Guardian of Nekops
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In the stands overlooking Spike Arena, a big man in an even bigger suit of armor leaned on the great battle-axe that had served him so well the year prior. All around him, children watched in wonder as their mothers clutched them in fear. Although he was still missing his signature helmet, the man's giant frame and rock-golem armor were unmistakable; this was Roch the Crusher, last year's Champion for Earth. Part of him wanted to scream at these irresponsible parents; the Elemental Championships were no place for a child, and the gore they usually entailed was not healthy for a developing mind. However, it would not help to make a scene here, and what parents did with their children was really none of his affair.
Although glad to be back at the Arena Complex again, and particularly happy to see Spike Arena still going strong-- Oh, look! he thought, There's that section of wall that I half-impaled myself on last year!-- the real reason he had come was to watch the man who had bested him when he had journeyed to Stonerule earlier this year. Eccentric fellow, this John, calling him halfway across the world with promises of help, then ambushing him, and then helping him anyway, but he seemed a decent man regardless. The Crusher really couldn't complain, either; not after he had learned so much about alchemy and received that marvelous Forge to help his village.
Of course, the Ronin of Dreams was here, too. Roch had hoped to see his old sparring partner fight again and to be able to cheer him on, but apparently the man was running this place instead.
John seemed to be fighting well, up to the point where he fell for that snowball ruse and his sword shorted out. A pity, really; Roch had spent several months at the Guardian's tower, and every spare moment during that time the man had been working on that silly wiring, or obsessing over the much more complex device on his arm. Hopefully that other one would prove a good deal sturdier. And not kill him when he tried to activate it.
Then the Crusher's jaw dropped as John sent the anvil flying with his Current Magic. Never mind that the attack had missed his opponent and hit some other chap who appeared to have been dead already; the man he knew wouldn't do that! John was fond of battling to submission, or failing that, the clean kill, but that anvil attack would have merely crushed the other's legs, possibly for life! A far more... Johnish approach would be to knock his foe back with a lightning bolt, or to throw his hatchet, or simply duck behind the anvil again, but to risk permanent paralysis or collateral damage on such a huge scale was simply unlike him. And, come to think of it, his mocking tone and morbid rhetoric were also strange.
What could have brought such ruthlessness to a man who was the image of nobility only a month ago?
From the other side of the stands, a red-skinned woman in a bronze dress watched mutely as the Guardian fought. There was a hood over her head, the sort meant for keeping off the sun rather than protected her from any more inclement weather, and it hid most of her face. She knew it wouldn't really help as a disguise should Koori see her here, but she felt she out to at least make the effort. After all, Wind was fighting in this very arena complex, trying to find a new Unspoken of Fire, yet Zap was... here. Watching this man, fight, and praying to all the powers she knew that he'd make it through alive.
She remembered how he had talked of it, the Elemental Championship. He would win it, he said, regain all he had lost and use that power to help people, as he had done all his life in that other world. As he needed to do now, or die trying. He had claimed he would do anything to win, and Zap had always smiled to know that he was lying. He would give anything that was his for it, she knew, but would never have hurt another for his prize. There was something refreshing about a man who, when he said, "at all costs," meant only, "whatever it costs me."
That man was gone now, though, as evidenced by the torturous purpose to which he had used the last of his power. Even the wound he recieved, terrible as it was, could not match for her the pain he had inflicted, had known he was going to inflict, when he had used that horrible attack. The light, the radiance of the man who had kissed her months before, was gone.
Tears rolled down her face and her body was wracked in silent sobs as she watched John and his opponent lie there, motionless. What could have done such a thing to him?
A strange man in armor walked up to her, and awkwardly put an arm around her. Soon she was crying on the warrior's metal shoulder as he held her in is massive embrace, the giant battleaxe pressing into her back somehow not even a concern. "Don't you worry, lass," he whispered. "Our John, the real John, will pull through this alright. You just wait and see."
They watched together as the Guardian of Nekops rose shakily to his feet, fear and hope churning in their hearts.
< Message edited by Guardian of Nekops -- 9/23/2007 14:41:20 >
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