View Full Version : Nyrin vs. Emonalach [Auki vs. Kris]
Nyrin the Lernaean Hydra (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=9643&p=416745&viewfull=1#post416745) vs. Emonalach the Nephilim (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=28697&p=922386&viewfull=1#post922386)
The beacon in the centre of the Arena is one of hope for those watching,
a symbolic flame to guide their God's eyes towards the battle and gain his attention.
Two combatants thrown against each other,
the victorious set free and the defeated becoming a sacrifice for their deity's feast.
The shield around the area provides protection from the harsh rays of the sun.
Slowly, as the fight progresses, it will fade. In doing so, the air will grow hotter,
until it reaches a temperature that would bring any mortal to their knees.
The ground is merely a sand-filled expanse, covering a mile in diameter.
A fight to the death.
All nine heads lay flat against the ground, body slumped, flaring nostrils itched by sandy grains. Dull scales glinted in the sunlight, menacing, the beams far stronger than what he was used to. It irritated his water-nurtured skin, burned it in places he couldn’t scratch. One head, Gamma, twitched feebly in an attempt to raise itself, to gnaw on the flesh that persisted to sting. Nyrin did not like pain, not when he was the one to experience it. The situation was so rarely seen that it felt wrong, even to his slow-witted mind.
Jaws stretched, tongues laced with grit, yellowed teeth revealed to any that dared to watch.
Zeta was the first head to slither from the ground, rising above the rest to view their surroundings. It didn’t know how they got there. Their purpose, however, was clear.
A hiss escaped.
It saw a man opposite in the arena. He appeared almost a speck with the distance between.
A human by visage, not seeming a threat.
Hiss turned to growl as Nyrin struggled to lift himself onto four feet, the sand providing poor support for his clumsy steps. Instinctive curiosity became sudden rage. He roared, feeling the quake of the air as the sound left his jaw, a wave of anger that rippled the atmosphere.
They might think they were making him dance, a puppet to their whims, but that was foolish.
All they had done was provide his next meal.
Just like back then...
World of hope... world of new beginnings...
For him it was nothing but a far forgotten unreal utopia...
Into that huge wonderful crystal ball he entered by merging into it, his form, upon the touch of his palm into the sphere's outline, changed, de-morphed and slowly degenerated into what seemed to be black watery substance that was pulled inside, reappearing within as his liquid form took shape into his most recent known form.
Human like form.
The moment he walked inside he was stricken with the massive shadow of the beast before him, which covered his humble form without much of an effort.
This beast reminded him of another creature he fought with back when he was in the order... but that was long time ago... Still, he hoped this creature would not turn out to be as troublesome as her, the goddess of the sea...
Each head seemed to have its own personality and mind, a thing he would need to consider and tread carefully with.
As he took few steps ahead, his feet not leaving a single mark upon the sand, he carefully gazed, study, and took notes of the massive wonderful beast he was to face now. Under his lips he started to enchant something as they parted and sway, moving according to words in language known only to his kin.... or what used to be his kin...
"I am Emonalach", he announced with a deep husky voice that shouldn't have fitted this human looking male, the echo of his heralding voice carried over by the walls of the glass, "I am pleased to fight such magnificent creature... "
He grinned as he looked up.
Deserves only a matching beautiful death.
"I am Emonalach. I am pleased to fight such magnificent creature..."
Useless words, human words.
Any potential respect for his prey was washed away as such primitive syllables filled the air. To Nyrin, it sounded little more than a pig’s squeal before it was torn apart. A begging for mercy, a denial of fate, a foolish belief that there was hope to avoid the death impending. The Hydra could speak, true. Arrogant, he did not lower himself to using such talent, not wishing to be placed on the same level as his food.
Heads writhed, snapping at the sand, swallowing grains and choking as they scratched each throat. Feet already sunk under his heaving weight, the sand wrapped around his toes and claws. Zeta paid no mind, eyes only on the meal before.
Other heads were not so patient. Alpha…Beta…both thirsting for blood, lurching into movement without a moment’s warn. They rocketed across the sand – one in front, one to the left – trying to build momentum as they sped towards their weakling target. Jaws clamped shut, but they were ready. Taste buds lusted – blood-filled, succulent - never sated, always waiting.
It was almost cute.
The way the creature panted and breathed and gasped and seized him with such greedy lustful eyes. The beast wanted to make a meal out of him, thinking of him as nothing more than a tool, a meat, a mean to satisfy his primary needs of hunger.
That beast wanted him...
And Emonalach wanted for this creature to want him so... Maybe even more than what the beast sought to have of him. Emonalach couldn't help but think of all the possible things the beast could do with what appeared to be a human body... Emonalach smiled softly to himself, his eyes flashing for a moment with victory as he wanted to fill this beast senses... He wanted his image to fill that creature's mind... He wanted it to want him so badly...
So badly... That it'll wish to absorb and feed off him so to the point of no self control...
Just a beast and a need...
Emonalach's smile grew bigger. He waved his hands to the side before spreading them wide, declaring of himself ready to be consumed, willing, waiting for it to come for him. He wanted that with every huffing, sniffing, smelling that the desire to devour him would only increase.
And then it charged, not a moment too soon as two heads so eager, so hungry, so needy, were already heading for his direction.
The smile was inhuman now, too big for the cheeks to contain.
However, the spell was complete.
And yet... Something was pulling him far from there.
Feeling fangs digging into his body, Emonalach watched as his fire, streams of three foul orbs of flames, was tossed around, as he was carried over the field, his dark boots kicking trail into the sand as he was sent away.
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