08-02-2011, 02:48 PM
Spoiler:
An Addiction to Life
"Marius. You're up."
Scaeva turned his head, old bones croaking as he looked to his side at the Forsaken who called his name. Without speaking Scaeva nodded, standing up from his seat. A pile of armor was in front of him, old in mismatched browns and grays. Scaeva slid each piece on his rotten exterior with care. He pushed money fingers into mail gloves and a half skeletal stomach into his dull browned chest-piece. Finally he picked up the helmet that sat on the floor. Once it shone in the light with two fine white horns on either side. Now it was grim and worn, the only remaining horn dirtied.
Without much care Scaeva walked past the other Forsaken towards an open archway. There, leaning against the wall were his sword and shield. The shield was round and hard steel, emblazoned with bronze skull. There were scratches over the shield but it still looked strong as ever, ready to weather whatever punishment was to come. And the blade... Simple, black hilt lacking jewels or beauty, just a leather binding. Blade of good iron, sharpened to a fine point. Scaeva picked these tools up, sliding the shield over his left hand and grasping the blade with his right.
"Make your last fight a good one Marius." The Forsaken nodded at Scaeva before motioning towards the archway "Enjoy it."
Scaeva returned the nod before walking through, into a shallow pit. Around him were a small group of stands filled with Forsaken. Some stared down with grim expressions while others cheered. Scaeva turned his head around. In front of him was a human, tattered and broken. Yet, when he gazed at Scaeva a rage came about him, a rage mixed with a glimmer of hope.
Scaeva returned the human's look with an expressionless face. The hollowed out pits in his head that were once eyes looked at the human blankly as if devoid of any emotion at all. Despite this, the Forsaken's mind was alight with thought. Does he really still think he will find freedom, Scaeva wondered.
Even if he were to defeat me... him broken as he is. The thought! Does he really think he would be released, allowed to run home? I suppose it is left for me to crush this weakling and again show my might.
With that Scaeva rushed at the human, sword poised to aim at his stomach. For the living it would have been adrenaline that took over at this moment, pushing through the blood and delivering energy that one could not know without action. But for someone dead like Scaeva it was different, almost like the feeling was simply the remembrance of adrenaline...
The human waved his hands in the air and fire bursted out from his palm, a great wave flowing outward. Scaeva stopped mid-run, raising up his shield to meet the flames. It was then when the fire collided with his shield that vibration pulsed through Scaeva's body. His chest heaved and his mouth opened, as if there was some sort of necessity to take a breath of air. The vibrations continued to... almost tingle through his body as Scaeva slowly advanced, flames pouring over his shield in an unending onslaught.
Scaeva became focused, his chest now heaving in and out regularly. He felt sweat running down his head as the heat intensified. Suddenly Scaeva's entire body felt moist. He let out another breath.
The sensation of of wind as it blew against the hairs on his body...
Breathe.
Moist skin as the sweat drenched him...
Breathe.
Heart pounding as his breathing accelerated, shaking his chest...
Breathe.
The repulsive smell of burning flesh...
Scaeva suddenly launched forward, lunging off his back foot until his blade made contact with the human's neck, making a quick diagonal strike. The human's spell stopped and blood gushed from his neck and mouth before he fell to the ground. Scaeva turned to face the cheering. His hand instinctively went up to wipe his brow of the sweat but dry dead flesh just rubbed against dry dead flesh, no moisture to be found. Scaeva's chest ceased to move, his breathing at end.
He turned, and exited the archway for the last time.
On its opposite side a different Forsaken stood, dressed in green cloths and holding a blue-green staff. "Well done Scaeva. Now, its time we go..." The Forsaken eyed Scaeva silently for a second more before turning on his heels and walking off, "There is work to be done."