((OOC: I had been meaning to put this up after the EC, but...I guess I really decided that I'd quit...and yeah. @_@; I probably mentioned a few things that I wasn't supposed to while writing this, so Zan, or whoever the grader is, please forgive me if I couldn't catch those. All that said, enjoy. I started this two months ago...so hopefully it's up to par. xD And it might not be finished...so I'm putting half of it up. =/ ))

Eternal. Everything in this small town was eternal, it seemed. The buildings, the sunset, the drifting, fluffy pink clouds, and the players that wandered around it all seemed to fit in that specific category. The fish were, of course also eternal because he was sure that CCCorporation was probably too lazy to touch the fish, whether they were all dead or not. Was that young boy fishing trying to make the corporation get off their butt and do something, or maybe he was just trying to have some fun? The boy was determined enough that he wanted to get all the fish out of the river, but that, of course, would take days upon days of endless fishing, which was boring to any teen or adult. Blue hair fell in his eyes as he held the rod tightly in his right hand, his left hanging at his side. He felt lazy that day; maybe it was that around a week ago he had gone on a quest that was probably the longest he’d been on. He felt a brief tug on the rod and pulled it up in an instant, a small fish hanging on the rod. He grabbed the flopping fish and thrust it back into the river, sighing. He slipped the rod back into his inventory and walked off, slightly bored. Should I go to a field or should I go see my Grunty…? He decided on the field, since he was in the mood for some action. With a straight face, he pushed through the small crowd and made his way to the Chaos Gate. He teleported himself off to the other server, a bit excited, a bit bored, but at least he could get a few levels while he was at it. Golden rings whisked him off in a second and he was in Mac Anu no more. At least, for a while he wouldn’t be.

Golden rings found their way in the middle of a new town, the Theta Server. He hadn’t bothered to come here a lot, because he hadn’t really felt the need to come to a high level server. He was tempted to go and get the field over with, but he knew that he’d forget afterward. His mind had changed in the last few seconds. It always did. He jogged through the streets, noticing fewer players. He jogged across a bridge, then another bridge, and another, before he made his way to the stables where his grunty walked around, making a few oinks as it walked around. He liked the little pigs, even if they were supposed to look slightly ugly. He walked into the stables, noticing a few other players with their grunties. Some were big, some were small, but he liked them small, where you could pick them up and enjoy time with them. He didn’t exactly need them for battle at the moment…not at the moment. Blue charged up to him and found himself being cradled in Shenmock’s hands. The Fist Fighter didn’t exactly have a fondness for cute things, but grunties were the exception. He looked at Blue and noticed that his eyes had closed. Night was almost upon them, so he might as well get to a field quickly before complete darkness came. He set the grunty gently on the ground and this time walked off.

He enjoyed the time spent alone. Maybe it was because he had spent a lot of time doing quests with other people. The Eventide Crescendo had been an exception, really, because if any one of them had gone alone, they’d of died quite quickly. He remembered the Swath, the High Templar, the dark field, and the darkness that had shrouded it. It actually made him afraid of what else there was in ‘The World’, but figuring it out would be a whole big story. He had to watch himself when he was around the Knights of War. Though with his different appearance, he thought he’d be fine. He crossed the last bridge and finally found himself staring at the same Chaos Gate that had been in Mac Anu. The Fist Fighter wasn’t sure what field to choose. He could either choose a field that was hard for him, or a field that was a bit easy at his field. Or maybe he could do one that was just right for him… He wondered. He chose easy. Chosen Grieving Prairie was his outcome. A nice little grassy plain in the afternoon with few monsters and a fine amount of buildings; that seemed…good enough, in his opinion. The Fist Fighter nodded, satisfied with his choice. He raised his hand and called out the keywords, letting the golden rings wisp him away for another time in ‘The World’. This should prove…fun.

~Chosen Grieving Prairie~

Golden rings descended, shattering the area with a great light. Birds chirped in the distance, a melodic sound to the Fist Fighter’s ears. The sun shining high didn’t surprise him at the slightest. Soft white clouds that resembled puffy white marshmallows drifted over the sky, providing Shenmock a tinge of shade as they covered the sun a bit. He let out a long sigh and stretched his arms and legs before falling back and looking at the field from the hill that he had been teleported to. The field gave him the sense that he wasn’t alone, maybe someone else was here. There was always someone else in a field he was in. He felt like his character was always being stalked. He put his head in his knees and thought for a moment. What I’ll aim to do in this quest is to get to the end of the dungeon. Yeah, that’ll be a good challenge for Shen, won’t it? Satisfied with his plan, the Fist Fighter walked down the hill, in no hurry to go off in search of a fight. He enjoyed the hot weather, especially when it was raining outside in his real life house. He was sure that most people liked to PK those who went in parties alone. If they picked the right person, they’d have some fun. If they didn’t, they’d get their ass handed to them with a roundhouse kick that would send them into la-la land for probably millennia.

“GOLDEN EGG!” something chirped from the side. Sitting on a small rock stood two Golden Eggs shaking around. He raised a brow. What the heck was that? He walked over to it, unsure of what it was at first before he realized that it was Grunty Food. He folded his arms and stared at it. White eyes bulging, it chirped again. “Golden egg!” The thing continued to bounce around, screaming its name out to him. He whirled around, threw a hand up, and started walking in the other direction, as he didn’t want to deal with the stupid thing. It was just…stupid.

Just bloody show up so I can beat the crap out of you… Maybe he was just going mad about this thing of having people stalk him. He heard laughter and at first he thought he was just laughing at his own thoughts. Maybe he was starting to hallucinate. That was definitely a bad thing, at least for him. He turned back and noticed that on the hill where he had just been was a player, though he wasn’t laughing. A massive blade stood wedged in the grass in front of him. He was near the trunk of a tree and any person would’ve looked up to the top of the tree. Shenmock did so and frowned.

A man stood at the top, brown hair billowing in the wind. He had shining gold eyes and two daggers at his sides. A black headband lay tied around his forehead, markings covered all over it. He didn’t wear any boots at all or gloves. He wore a regular brown shirt over a black long-sleeved jacket. He wore plad jeans, but nothing else that he recognized. He let out a laugh, an annoying one. He fidgeted and looked like he was about to jump, but instead flew down, his head slamming into a tree and his avatar flying to the ground. Overall, he looked like an idiot. His partner seemed like a smart one and probably wanted a bit of a surprise attack, but the Fist Fighter guessed not. Shenmock, just trying to make the two people angry, waved cheerfully, holding back laughter at the idiotic entrance they’d made. The Twin Blade shot up from where he was on the ground, his blades already out and ready to use. His partner sighed and pulled out his blade. The Heavy Blade wore a long trench coat and dull boots. He had black hair that went into his hair and red eyes that looked like that of blood. His appearance wasn’t so flashy, he kind of looked like he had a personality like…himself. The Fist Fighter didn’t flinch at all at the sight of the two, but only frowned. He felt that he might need all of his attention for this battle, so he slipped the cloak off and waited for them to run at him. The Twin Blade seemed as eager as ever, but the Heavy Blade waited. Then, with a nod from the Heavy Blade, his partner charged. The Heavy Blade, on the other hand, waited, probably thinking that his partner would die in the attempt even if the Heavy Blade helped a bit.

“Prepare to die!” he hissed, the metal glinting in the sunlight as he charged forward. The Fist Fighter didn’t very much care for this dud. He had gone through worse, so he was sure that he could handle them just as long as he paid attention to what they were doing. He took a step backward. Riiiiight…now! He leaped off the ground, hair whipping around his eyes. He started to spin and lashed out with his left foot, which was easily guarded by his opponent. His opponent laughed and raised his blades up to attack, but the Fist Fighter wasn’t finished yet. Still spinning, he lashed out with his right foot, jamming it into the Twin Blade’s cheek and sending him back into the grass, spinning a bit as he went. He let out a soft chuckle. He had learned a lot from practice. He dug his hands into his pockets and waited for another assault.

The Twin Blade got up, golden eyes a darker color than before. He twirled his blades around, took a deep breath, and charged at Shenmock, this time having a better plan of action. He gave the Fist Fighter a smile. Shenmock laughed and gave him a hearty wink, meaning ‘Have fun trying!’ The man charged at him, blades zinging as he twirled them around a bit more as he charged. The Twin Blade jumped and slid on the grass in front of him, both blades leaving his hands as he threw them. The Fist Fighter hadn’t been forced with the tactic before, but he was sure that he’d be able to handle it just as much as he had been with the last one. The daggers came at him at a flashy speed, but it gave him time and time was enough for him to dodge. He ducked, letting them fall in the grass instead of bothering to go through the trouble of trying to catch them. The blades disappeared once they hit the ground and a new set of daggers appeared in his opponent’s hand. He swung at him rapidly, his attacks being extremely quick. The Fist Fighter spun backwards and kicked up with his left foot, launching the blade out of his right hand. The Twin Blade switched the blade to his right and swung at him, even when he only had one blade. The Fist Fighter bended back, palm falling on the soft grass, and performed what everyone liked to call a back flip. Once his feet landed on the ground again, he jumped and swung his leg to the right, landing a roundhouse kick on the man’s cheek, sending him back a ways. His lost blade that he had lost lay dug in the ground next to him, seeming to scream to be picked up and used.

The Fist Fighter felt blood ooze down from where his opponent had scored hits on his arms. He knew that he was in a better position than his opponent, but he wanted to try and seem lively in the fight, not weak enough that his partner would bother to jump in and finish the job. He sighed, watching the Twin Blade as he got up and pulled out both his blades, spun them once around, tightened his grip, and once again charged at the Fist Fighter, yelling like a maniac or probably giving a battle cry. Shenmock sighed again. It seemed like a drag that he had to deal with more people trying to kill him. He was just plain annoyed. He knew he could handle him, but of course, he really just wanted to go and fight some monsters. They didn’t have any brains so it was much less work than fighting him. Well, maybe this guy was less, but he was bloody annoying, that much was for sure.

The Fist Fighter watched his opponent’s footwork. It was smooth as he made long strides. If he landed a hit on his kneecaps or at least his leg, the guy would go flying, leaving him with a perfect hit. Now the trouble was handling it. He frowned and prepared for a duck and quick strike with his foot. The Twin Blade started to slow his pace down a little as he came closer to the Fist Fighter. His long strides were still there, though. He raised his daggers and continued forward, his hands behind his back, prepared to lash out. The Fist Fighter shot forward, surprising the Twin Blade, and let his boot slam into his lower leg. The Twin Blade lost ground like a sumo wrestler had tackled him. The Fist Fighter raised his foot and slammed down on the Twin Blade’s back, sure that he was doing a lot more damage than his last few hits. He raised his other foot and brought it down on his head, pushing the Twin Blade into the ground. Shenmock sighed and jumped back, satisfied with what he was doing. The man instantly shot up from the ground, though he was a bit hunched over. He gulped a Health Drink down and smiled, green liquid escaping out from his lips. The Fist Fighter frowned in return at the crazed Twin Blade.

Maybe it was just him, but this guy seemed a bit weird to the head. Maybe he was a computer nerd with huge problems or something like that. His eyes bulged and he was always so perky. What the heck was wrong with this guy? He frowned and looked at his feet, as they were fidgeting around like he wanted to charge at him, but something was stopping him. Maybe it was a flash-mail to his friend for help, but he didn’t see his partner fidget it any way. Man, that guy sure had a lot of mystery shrouded around him. He really hated that kind of thing. The Twin Blade finally took a step forward and then…he charged.

Arms flopping from one side to the other, the man charged, blades glinting. A cloud covered the sky, darkening the field a bit. The plan of action that the man had seemed random, but the Fist Fighter was sure there was some plan behind it. The man would have a bit more power, judging that swinging with floppy arms tended to be slightly more powerful and a bit speedier, but then again, the chance of hitting was absolutely random. Shenmock didn’t want to handle the guy in this state at all. What had brought this onto him? Had he been drinking in real life, hence the floppy arms and weird eyes…? Or was this some weird special skill that this guy had earned in an event? He frowned, digging his feet into the ground a bit more before raising his hand, ice already flowing around him with every passing second. He had a grim expression on his face and his tone was as if it had been dipped in deadly poison. It was a harsh look and expression that people got from the Fist Fighter…a lot.

“Rue Zot!”

A blue aura came out of nowhere, making the grass under him freeze like ice almost instantly. Frost came around him, ice following. The ice, frost, and water stopped flowing around him and shot into the ground below him. His character seemed like it had come from the north pole, but he didn’t look anything like one of Santa’s helpers…more like a demon’s helper to be exact. His emerald green eyes glowed as frost slowly jutted out of the ground. At first, it only sprinkled the grass and evaporated into water. Then, more came out, and more, and more, and more, until it came to three feet over the player’s height. He was in the middle of the snowstorm and thought it to be just a ‘Rue Kruz’ spell that he could easily deflect with his blades, but it wasn’t. The ground shook as the frost turned to ice in a second, freezing the man in the spell. The Fist Fighter smiled at the ice-cold face of his opponent. He pressed his palms together, preparing his next attack…

“Rue Rom!”

Eyes ablaze, an aura of water came and surrounded him. Again, water, ice, frost, and all the elements that represented Merrows seemed to flow around him. The power of Rue…it felt good to him. The Fist Fighter winced as he noticed blood leak from both of his hands. Preserving it was a little bit harder, of course, but it still felt to have cold air in your face (though James couldn’t exactly feel it, he only really imagined it). He let out a chuckle as tilted both his hands a tad bit and let go of his left hand, revealing a sphere of energy, crackling with ice and water inside. It still lashed out and cut at his hand, but he didn’t care. The impact of it was a bit more than the ‘Rue Rom’, but then again, if he had used it regularly, he’d have the chance to hit more people. Yet there was only one person he wanted to hit: the Twin Blade. He charged forward, right hand falling back behind him. He charged at the huge chunk of ice that jutted out of the ground. It was going to shatter in a few seconds. He had to shatter it first with his attack if he wanted a bit more of…what seemed like a finale. It wasn’t exactly a finale, but still, it worked. He leaped into the air and slid on the grass and thrust it forward. The sphere of energy slowly moved forward in the air and met the ice. A wind emitted from the insides of the sphere, making the Fist Fighter’s hair whip around his face. He frowned and watched as his opponent was hit back a ways from the attack. The man wasn’t dead, not close, to say the least, but he had been tackled, that much was for sure.

The man got up, wiping his T-shirt off before he prepared his two blades once again and charged at Shenmock. The boy dug his boots into the ground and prepared his fists for the next tangle with his opponent. The Twin Blade charged, his right hand coming out and swinging at his hand while he spun around, using his momentum to try and land a hit on the Fist Fighter. The Fist Fighter leaned back, the blade slicing off a single hair and was forced into a pickle at that moment. His hands bent back and propelled the boy off the ground and into the air. His body swung a bit backward, leaving him just enough room to spin himself back up and lash out with his right leg. The Twin Blade ducked and swung with his blades, twirling around with his blades at top speed, lashing out without leaving an open spot for Shenmock to get in. The boy was forced to dance back, blocking strikes with his gauntlets, having to duck out of the way, and sometimes even getting damaged by the blades. He ducked out of the way for yet another strike and swung his right leg at the man’s feet. The Twin Blade yelled out a cry and fell to the ground. Making quick use, the Fist Fighter grabbed the man’s legs and pulled with all his might, thrusting the man a few feet into the air with the help of a ‘Rue Rom’ spell.

The Fist Fighter leapt from the ground underneath him, his fists and legs lashing out and his lips curled back in a snarl. The man twirled his blades in the air before his fists collided with his flesh. The man lashed out with his own feet and lashed out with his blades before he fell back onto the ground, rolling back as to give them some space. The Fist Fighter landed on the ground and charged at the man, prepared to fight. With a yell, he leapt into the air, his right foot swinging at the man’s side. The man laughed his moronic laugh and grabbed his leg. Shenmock immediately swung his other leg, that leg only being grabbed by his other hand with ease despite the fact that it was coming so fast. The Fist Fighter grimaced, knowing that he was about to be flung into the air once again. As he suspected, he was flung into the air and the Twin Blade ran at him, trying to catch him in his blades once he reached the ground. Oh no you just didn’t!

“Rue Zot!”

The Fist Fighter landed safely on the ground, his legs buckling from the sudden landing to his feet. He watched as the Twin Blade rushed at him, blades flashing in the sunlight. Ice shot out of the ground, defending the Fist Fighter for the time being. The Twin Blade kept his pace up. His blades glowed a bright red before they were flames. He heard the words of the skill being activated and then there was the shatter of ice. He let out a yell of surprise at the sight of the man literally blowing the ice up to smithereens. The Fist Fighter could only stand up and prepare his fists for another tangle with the Twin Blade. He licked the blood from a cut on his cheek. He gave the man a glare and then charged, already thinking of what to do that would deal some damage against the man. He jumped as if to run on thin air, but instead, it was multiple kicks that were aimed at the Twin Blade. Three, four, no five times his legs lashed out at the man in his great leap at him. The man staggered back and twirled his blades around before yelling and charging at him.

The Fist Fighter could tell that the fight would drag out, but fought to his full extent nonetheless. No one would be seeing this except someone who actually challenged him in this manner when he was trying to just chill and go to a dungeon. He rushed forward and leapt into the air, his two legs flashing out, acting like the ‘Leaf Hurricane’ taijutsu skill that Rock Lee used. His first leg flashed out, only to be blocked, but his second leg flashed out of nowhere, hitting the man back so the man landed on the ground where the ice had melted. Shenmock sighed, watching the man get up from where he had fallen. The Twin Blade took out his blades and charged.

“Eat this! Rue Rom, Rue Rom!”

Eyes ablaze, his two hands flashed out, swinging in different directions. Wind burst through the area and two tornados of swirling wind conjured in front of him. His hand flashed out as if to command the whirling tornados of ice to charge forward at the man. The tornados zipped forward, catching the Twin Blade even though the man ran and jumped into one of the nearby trees. It was a good idea, seeing as it would be hard for the wind to get through, but it wasn’t enough for the ice and water to stop. They found their way into the thicket, leaving the man drenched and cursing. The Twin Blade was in the middle of the willow tree and with a few hefty lifts and jumps, he made his way to the edge of the branch. At the edge of the branch behind the brush, the man made a might leap that cleared the distance between him and the Fist Fighter. His blades were raised and his body came spinning toward him in a downward swirl. The Fist Fighter leapt back as the man landed on the ground in front of him and rushed him, his blades swinging down at the same time. The Fist Fighter jumped to the side and swung his right leg, giving it a bit more power after the sudden jump to the side. The foot collided with the man’s cheek, making the man swerve and stagger backwards.

The Fist Fighter dug his boots into the ground, one hand in front, the other behind him. The hand in front moved back and forth as to say ‘Come and get me!’. The man didn’t take it lightly. His opponent thrust himself forward, blades a dark color, a void seeming to be shrouding him. The Swirling Darkness skill was being used on him, as he recognized it from seeing Baron use it multiple times in battle. He pulled his arm back, roaring the words of one of the few skills he had for the Fist Fighter class. He sounded out the words as he yelled them. No mercy! It was as if his hands were taking over, as if he James didn’t have control of the character anymore. The Fist Fighter charged at him, his fingers already curling into his palm to form a fist.

“Kiwwwaaamii!”

His fist glowed a vibrant blue, the same color as his hair, as he thrust the fist forward. He couldn’t see anything at that moment, only a blur as blades and fist met each other in an explosion that blinded him and his opponent for the time being. Blades met his chest and hit him back, sending him onto the ground. His avatar lay sprawled on the grass, eyes opening and closing as if reality had just him. Scars lay on his back and chest. He felt tired all of a sudden and his HP had whittled down to a small amount. He mumbled two Repths and told himself not to use so much in the battle before pushing off the ground and facing the Twin Blade, who had his blades ready. The Fist Fighter faced him, faced his opponent, and motioned with his hand to come at him with his best ‘cool’ look. The Twin Blade charged at the Fist Fighter, his blades pulled behind him on opposite sides. His arms flashed out and let go of the blades, using them like throwing knives. The Fist Fighter frowned and ducked, dodging both blades with ease. The blades clattered to the grass behind him. His opponent frowned at his luck. The two blades disappeared in a golden flash as he pulled out a new set of blades that looked even deadlier than the last.

“Are you ready to diiie?!” he hissed. He was surprised at the man actually speaking at his opponent. He only frowned and raised his fists, staring at his opponent with one of his dull glares.

“I have a lot of things that I need to deal with before I let myself get taken up by an idiot…”

He made a face at him, just seeing how the Twin Blade would react to it. He let out a yell of rage and charged at the Fist Fighter. The Twin Blade went different this time and tossed one blade into the other hand as to double the attack of one hit if it hit. It was different, but handling what seemed like one blade might be easier for a few people. He stopped thinking and shifted his body weight so he could dodge the attack and grab the man’s arm. He pulled it over his shoulder with one hand, holding it with an iron grip before he made swift kicks at him from behind. It was like juggling a soccer ball, kind of, and it was a good tactic for a few hard hits then… Shenmock turned back, pulled the hand over so it was wrapped around his neck. His iron grip was still on, but now he could face the man and deal some damage with a might knee to the… The man let out a gasp of pain and crumbled to the ground, a tear trickling out of one eye at the pain of the attack. He turned back and cracked his knuckles, as if to taunt the man.

The Twin Blade got up, his eyes still blurry from the attack. The Twin Blade tossed a blade to his left hand and cleared the two-yard distance between them with a leap. The Fist Fighter frowned even more at the sight of a Repth spell. This fight, again, was going to drag out a while. He sidestepped twice, feeling cold steel skim off his cheek, leaving a small cut there. He licked the blood off and aimed a punch at the man’s gut. The man easily blocked with his arm and swung his own foot at Shenmock’s gut, as if to copy the boy’s move. The Fist Fighter grabbed his opponent’s leg in mid-air and swung it, but without the aid of a Rue Rom. The man fell to the ground on two feet, sliding back a bit. The boy’s blue hair swerved in front of his eyes. He felt that he’d have to settle the battle soon, or they’d be at this forever unless he made a miracle. With a quick plan lain in his head and his last move prepared, he gave a straight face. The Twin Blade charged, but the Fist Fighter himself didn’t. The man’s hands lashed out in two stabs at his ribs. The Fist Fighter grabbed the arms before the blades could sink in, pulled back one leg, and kicked the man back a ways. The man jumped right back up, his blades pulled up.

The Fist Fighter held up a hand, the palm outstretched as if to say ‘Stop’. “Yes, I know you want to fight, man, but we don’t have all day to fight it out. I’d like to make a deal with you for the fight…or rules, handicaps, whatever you’d like to call them, I’d assume. I make one, you make one, and then it’s even.”

The Twin Blade gave a quick nod.

“Okay, I say that there’s no more healing spells throughout the fight.” He waited until his opponent nodded again, pleased. “What do you want?” he asked.

His opponent thought for a moment, but came up with something simple. “No spells for both of us, I guess.”

Most players would’ve thought it idiotic, but both just wanted to finish the battle. He’d only have a few skills to guide him through this battle. “Okay, it’s settled, I guess. Let’s continue…”

The Fist Fighter charged, his fingers already digging into his palms, forming a fist. He let it fly, his gauntlets colliding with the man’s right blade. The Fist Fighter took immediate action as he was open for an attack, and raised his left hand, preparing a punch. He let it fly like the last one and it too collided with the man. In real life, this kind of thing was obviously not possible, as one slip of the angle would send both in weird directions. With a flick of both wrists, he took both the blades in his hands. His hands started to bleed from hitting the edges, but he didn’t care. He kneed the man in the chest multiple times, trying to make the man fall back, but the Twin Blade could only try and dodge them with whatever speed he had.

The two of them broke away, each sliding back on the grass. He noticed that his opponent’s friend was now watching intently on the battle. The Fist Fighter wasn’t sure what the Heavy Blade was looking for in the battle, but he knew that if he won, he’d have to fight just one more… He turned to the Twin Blade and watched as the man rushed forward at him, eyes ablaze with anger from depleting his hit points a ways. The man rushed at him with a new set of blades, this type water. Shenmock smiled. Big mistake. The Twin Blade leapt into the air, screaming like an idiot, and brought his blades down. The Fist Fighter rolled forward, dodging the blades by mere inches. He whirled around and jumped into the air, his leg already in a spinning position as it came around to collide with the Twin Blade’s face. The man staggered back to the ground, but picked himself up, blades at the ready.

“Your move,” the man muttered under his breath, only barely loud enough for Shenmock to make out.

The Fist Fighter frowned, but rushed at the man nonetheless. He let out a battle cry and pulled his leg up, only to be caught. Again. The man held it firmly and prepared to swing it around, but the Fist Fighter was the quicker one. Shenmock dropped his body to the ground, like in a push-up position, and spun, letting his other foot lash out at the man. The Twin Blade was hit away. As the Twin Blade flew back, he threw both blades in the brief millisecond he had. The Fist Fighter lifted a leg, kicking one out of the way so it spun behind him, but the other caught him in the side of the chest. He muttered a curse and pulled the blade out, blood leaking from the wound in his chest. He grimaced and threw the blade back at the man.

The man got up and sidestepped, dodging his own blade. He picked it up off the ground, wiping the blood on the grass. The Twin Blade let out a roar of laughter and charged. He didn’t know what he was laughing at, maybe the position he was in for a plan. The Fist Fighter didn’t see anything, but it was probably just a roar of laughter at the battle. The Fist Fighter’s frown deepened as he charged forward and aimed a kick at his legs to trip him. If he could do that, it’d bring the battle to an end. He never said he couldn’t use skills to finish off things. The Twin Blade did a quick jump over it, continuing to move forward to grab his other blade. His opponent snatched it down from the ground and laughed again.

“You are done boy,” he said, slipping his blades out once again and pulling out blades that were already being enveloped with crackling flames. The Fist Fighter stared at the blades and started to switch his armor. The man came at him.

“We will see…” Shenmock answered, running at the man. It was a stupid idea, but if he could get the plan right, he’d be fine.

“Fool, you will meet your demise to me!” the man said through muffled laughter.

“We shall see who is smart and who is the idiot in this predicament!” Shenmock yelled, his pace growing quicker as he ran at him. “Kiwami,” he mumbled as he charged. His right hand glowed a bright blue color as he ran and he couldn’t help but only smile at the man. If this came out well, it would be the end.

The two men came closer to each other until they were a mere two yards away. The man let out laughter as the crackling flames were swung at Shenmock’s face. The Fist Fighter, at that moment, slid down under the man’s two legs. The plan came completely by surprise and with the help of Shenmock’s skill, he made the man face plant on the ground. The man spit out the grass and frowned and thought he was okay, but he was wrong. “This is the end!” Shenmock spat and with the last few seconds of his spell at hand, he pulled his fist back and punched the man straight into the man’s spine. The man let out a scream of pain as Shenmock broke multiple bones with the fatal punch.

Shenmock stepped back a ways and watched the body fade away into the darkness of the field. No ghost came up, no nothing. He frowned, having expected a ghost, but there was none. The Twin Blade had been idiotic enough to not form a party with his friend, huh? Well, that was stupid. The Fist Fighter crouched down, watching the last of the gray fade away before he turned to the Heavy Blade. He dug his hands into his pockets, muttering a few Repths and finishing off the rest of his SP. The Heavy Blade in front of him stood up and stretched, though he didn’t pull out his blade. The boy folded his arms and stared at him, wondering when the fight would start. The man didn’t make a move to fight, but only stood, watching the boy fidget as he started to walk forward toward the man. In seconds they stood face to face, only a few mere feet away from each other. The Fist Fighter’s arms were still folded, his eyes forming a cold glare at the man.

“I see you’re quite the fighter, boy. I’d love to fight you right now, but I have things to handle in the field. You probably know what I’m talking…” His voice trailed off, leaving Shenmock to wonder what exactly he was talking about.

“What are you talking about?” the Fist Fighter questioned.

“You don’t know? You must be joking!”

“But I’m not. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The Fist Fighter frowned at the man, still wondering what the man was talking about. “What is it, anyways? I just came to the field to chill, not have to handle with a nasty PKer or two.”

“My boy, the man was truly a nasty PKer that wanted to kill you. He only accompanied me here and I never bothered to give him my member address. The thing that’s here is quite attractive and…” His voice trailed off. “We wanted to get rid of other people who were trying to get it.”

“Big waste of time, at least for you. I’m not looking for any item… Wait, you avoided my question. What is the item that everyone wants?” He folded his arms and gave him a glare, as if to tell him ‘Tell me or I’ll punch you in the face’.

The man shrugged. “Nothing too big…” Another glare from Shenmock made him frown. “It’s called a Dark Shard.” There was a questioning look from the Fist Fighter. “Anyone who’s read the BBS recently should know that the item is quite rare and…yeah, I just know that it’s quite rare and pricey if you get your hands on it. No one knows the capabilities of what it does, but I’m sure it grants some kind of power.”

The Fist Fighter fidgeted, a bit interested in the item. A Dark Shard, huh? He surely hadn’t heard of such an item, but it sounded interesting enough. But then again, a Dark Shard was obviously meant for power. Hacker’s item or something. It’s not a good thing to mess with. Even though his mind told him otherwise, he was determined to find out what it was. He wasn’t sure why his mind told him that, but he knew that he was the one to get it. “It sounds interesting enough to look for and I doubt I have time to get it, more or less even get past the people who are searching for it.” He turned to the Heavy Blade. “Are you ready to find this thing or not?” he asked, a look in his eye that told the man that they actually had a chance at getting the item.

The Heavy Blade nodded. “What’s your name, boy, anyways?” he questioned.

“Shenmock… Yours?” He was hesitant about telling his name to a total and complete stranger. He had never seen this guy hanging about in Mac Anu before, so he expected that he was experienced, but hadn’t played the game all that much.

“Mikoto. I’d suggest we get going now before we miss out on the…treasure.” He said it in a strange tone, one that made him suspicious about whatever the treasure was. For all he knew, it could be an atomic bomb waiting for someone to trigger it. Then again, it could also be something that was insanely rare…or something else. He didn’t exactly know, but all he did was shrug his shoulders, as if he really could care less. He’d find out…eventually.

With that, both men started running in the direction of the dungeon and the darkness. It was along trek ahead of them. They’d have to be prepared for anything…anything.

((OOC: This part was weird... >_> Sorry if it's confusing...it is to me too. @_@; ))

A Heavy Blade and Fist Fighter were an unlikely pair. Powerful, weak, slow, and fast. Their best skills were completely opposite from each other. They both ran through the field of grass, trying to reach the dungeon. The two were surprised to not see any portals in the field. Most had already been taken care of from the parties who had been looking. Some of them had fallen to the ground and died by other people looking for the item, others not getting there in time. The unlikely pair of two charged off in the direction of the dungeon, hopes up to find the item, whatever it did. Maybe it was for the contest of getting it, maybe it was just because the two players were bored, but it was mainly for the reason of Shenmock. The Fist Fighter had been intrigued in the Dark Shard the moment he heard of it. He knew that it would grant some kind of power to the player, but he knew that it was some kind of item from a hacker or something that wasn’t from CyberConnect. He could care less about them. The Knights of War were already looking for people like him, so it wouldn’t make much of a difference. The two of them climbed up a hill, their maps saying that the dungeon was just beyond it.

Both came to the top in seconds, the dungeon already appearing in front of the two. The Heavy Blade pulled the Fist Fighter back at the sight of a party of three coming into the dungeon. They looked just as strong as each of them, but still, they’d get attacked and that would only stall them. The Fist Fighter fell to the ground, a hand over his mouth after he tried to yell a complaint. The hand came off and the Heavy Blade started to slowly crawl up the hill. The Fist Fighter followed suit and found that there was no one there. The Heavy Blade motioned to go and the two darted down the hill, hoping that no one had noticed them. He had a good partner, at least for precautions. If he had been alone, he would’ve been dead. The two found themselves at the edges of the steps leading down into the dungeon. The Fist Fighter frowned at it, but the Heavy Blade didn’t seem quite so afraid or paranoid at the darkness of the dungeon. The Fist Fighter hadn’t taken a liking to dungeons, ever since his last quest…

The Fist Fighter went after him and the two found themselves staring at the entrance, though Shenmock seemed to be the only one hesitant going in. Mikoto went into the entrance and Shenmock followed, still wondering if what lay in the next room was a trap or something. The two of them found themselves staring at a long, narrow hallway, dead and decayed bodies scattered about, blood here and there, and maybe the lasts of a goblin or two. Mikoto ran forward, his boots being soundless as he ran. I don’t remember that… The Fist Fighter followed, his boots too being soundless against the stone. This is strange… Shenmock slid to a stop at the end of the hallway, the Heavy Blade too doing so. They waited for a moment, waited for signs of something on the other side, but found nothing. The two walked in, finding themselves in a square, empty room. This too, had decayed bodies, but barrels and crates, too, were scattered about the area. Three pathways, left, right, and center.

“Which way?” Mikoto asked him, a bit uneasy.

“Got any Fairy’s Orbs on you?” Shenmock questioned. The man shook his head. The Fist Fighter didn’t bother to look in his inventory, because he was almost sure that he hadn’t bothered to buy any.

Shenmock nodded toward the right direction, and with that, they ran towards the entrance. The Fist Fighter peered into the darkness and went in, the Heavy Blade following him in. The two found themselves in a room that had a single portal. It was square, but had no doors except for the one they came through. Shenmock turned, about to grab the door and try to squeeze through with the Heavy Blade, but it was no use. They were stuck in the room. The Fist Fightered sighed and stepped forward, glistening golden light coming around and spreading across the dusty floor before the portal dematerialized, revealing an Armor Shogun.

Dual swords were pulled from its sides, each steel and looking very sharp. The monster was probably twice as tall as Shenmock and the amount of HP it held was quite a lot. The Fist Fighter prepared his hands for battle and the Heavy Blade pulled out a powerful-looking blade that had Ani marks all over it. The Armor Shogun let out a roar and took a powerful step forward, approaching them. The Fist Fighter was about to charge at him, but Mikoto stopped him.

“This one’s a big guy, so I suggest you use speed to your advantage. I’ll attack from the front and keep him distracted. You attack from its week points.” He turned to the uneasy-looking Fist Fighter. “Don’t worry, I have strong armor. I’ll be fine…”

With a quick mutter of ‘I’ve heard that more than once’ from none other than Shenmock, both charged, the Fist Fighter starting to run around the Armor Shogun while the Heavy Blade charged the monster, eyes ablaze. The Heavy Blade jumped into the air, dodging one of the slices from the Armor Shogun, and swung his blade, darkness enveloping it. The blade collided with the monster, making it stagger back a ways. The Heavy Blade spun around once more, bringing the Ani blade down through the monster, though it had only done a bit of damage overall. The Heavy Blade grunted at the sight of two blades being swung at him. The Fist Fighter took action and rushed at one of the blades, using one of them as leverage to clear a jump to the monster’s face. His hair in his face, he spun around, his leg meeting its armor. Gravity brought him back down the ground, his legs a bit shaky from hitting the steel. Mikoto only had to deal with one blade, as Shenmock had dealt with the first by getting it off balance with his jump. The Fist Fighter stood in front of it, his eyes forming a glare. The Heavy Blade rolled his eyes and charged the monster. A sword came down at the Fist Fighter, forcing him to back step until he found himself about ten yards from the monster.

The Heavy Blade, meanwhile, was in the air, his blade tearing into the armor. Blood spilled to the ground as he tore into its flesh, but after going a little too far, the monster swung its blade and sent him flying back. The monster let out a grunt and took giant steps forward toward the Heavy Blade. Shenmock charged at the monster even when Mikoto yelled at him to stop. The Fist Fighter dodged one of the blades as it smashed into the ground and dodged the next one. With the help of a Rue Rom spell, he was sent off to meet the monster’s armor-clad face. He held a fist back, prepared to smash it into pure oblivion, but the monster had a plan of its own. It swung its head back, then swung it forward, hitting the boy away like he was nothing but a bee trying to sting him. He yelled in pain and was sent spinning back into the wall from the impact of the hit. That thing has some pretty powerful moves…

The boy stood up and watched as his partner rushed it again. All they could do was charge, hit the monster, then get smashed back by one of its swords. He actually took the Heavy Blade’s advice this time and started in a sprint to get behind it. He slid behind it and stared at the most vulnerable spot of the monster. If he hit it hard in the back, it would immediately just, well, collapse, or something. Maybe, but its hit points were still too high. He walked up to the monster’s back, aware that Mikoto was fighting for his life at the moment. Shenmock sighed and pulled back his fist, a sapphire-like glowing emitting from his hand. He muttered the words of ‘Kiwami’ under his breath before he pulled back his fist, jumped, aimed for the spine, and let the fist collide with the monster.

The sapphire glow erupted like a volcano as it met the monster’s back. He heard the monster let out a roar of pain, its legs swinging a bit together, but not so much. He went in with his other fist, landing another dent in its armor. The back wasn’t quite as powerful as the front and he was satisfied. He landed on the ground and watched as the monster turned back and swung both of its blades at him. The way it swung was meant for chopping off his head, but either way, ducking would save him. In seconds he was on the ground, blades hissing as they made their way over his head, only a mere foot away from landing a hit. He rolled back as a blade followed down and was forced to jump back as another came, but he realized that it was only a distraction. The Armor Shogun swung its other blade down, letting it collide with his head. He let out a scream of pain as he hit the ground instantly after the collision. His vision was a blur for a moment, blood leaking from his head. He got up, his vision still a blur. His hand clutched at his head as he looked up, wondering when the monster would strike next. The Armor Shogun was still staring at him, its two blades raised, but a blade stood through it, the critical hit sign over the monster. Mikoto pulled his blade from the monster and let it fall to the ground face first. He slipped his blade away in the pockets and cast a quick Repth on Shenmock. The blood dematerialized and the wound was healed. It had been quite the hit on the Fist Fighter, but at least they had won the fight.

“Well, let’s get going, Shenmock, that fight brought our time, so we’ll have to move quicker than before. Come on.”

With that, they both ran through the door and found themselves in the same room. Mikoto made the quick choice of going to the center room. They found themselves staring at a long hallway with multiple skeletons, spiders, and everything that you’d meet in a dungeon. Mikoto ignored everything that surrounded him and burst off in a sprint. The Fist Fighter was right after him, but was still looking at the blood that was still on the floor. He still saw the chains of the skeletons that were still there. The two of them rushed through the door and found themselves in another square room, but this time, they found another party at the very end of the room. Both of them froze as the party turned around at hearing the footsteps. It was a party of two: they were two Heavy Axe men, each looking extremely powerful with huge axes. The two of them took a step back, as if to run back, but knew the battle was inevitable.

“I’d suggest you get away from here now, boys, or else we’ll just have to make you leave.” The man readied his axe. Shenmock took a step forward and stared at the man with his best glare. The Heavy Blade behind him sighed at the stupidity of standing up to someone twice as powerful as you, at least in terms of strength.

I’d like to see you even attempt to try and make us leave. We just came here to get an item, not deal with people who are full of themselves. If you’re just going to charge me and swing your axe at me like a little mean boy, go ahead and try, but if you’re trying to pick a fight with people just because they’re after something that seems to complete them, fine!” He prepared himself for the man to charge him. “If you want to, I’m ready.”

The man only grunted. “A little newbie like you isn’t going to stand against a guy who’s played this game longer than anyone here, kid.” The man prepared his axe. “Little boy, I’d be glad to tear into your flesh. This battle will be done in one minute flat.”

Shenmock raised a brow. “Stop calling me kid, man. For all I know, you could be some four year old computer genius sitting at your computer munching on chocolate chip cookies to keep you awake.” His eyes formed a glare. “And if you want, I’m ready for you…kid.”

The Heavy Axe grumbled and prepared his axe. “You don’t even have a weapon, kid! How do you expect to win without a weapon! Ha! This will only make things easier.”

There was a glint in Shenmock’s eye. “Come at me, see if you can take me down then.” He crossed his arms and waited for the man to come charging at him.

The Heavy Axe charged at him as he expected, his pure black eyes glowing with anger at the boy. Shenmock continued to stand there, his arms still crossed. The man was pretty dang slow with the axe, so he didn’t think he’d have much trouble with the man at all. Even if he had high defense and attack, he’d be fine. The boy jumped as the man swung in a sideways swing, landing on the other side of the man. He laughed as the man swung at him multiple times, trying to land a hit on the boy. Multiple times, the man grazed off of his cheeks or arms, but other than that, the boy was having a grand old time. The man swung again, but the boy had already jumped back. The man let out a roar of rage and swung at him again. Shenmock ducked and finally took action. His arms were a flash as he swung his fist up into the air, fist colliding with chin. Following up, he kneed the man in the gut and whirled around, his foot swinging around and smashing into the man’s chest.

The Heavy Axe was sent staggering back. The few attacks that he had done hadn’t taken a whole lot of damage, but the boy knew that the Heavy Axe hadn’t been trying his hardest. It felt a little too easy and he couldn’t get comfortable with this guy. No underestimating people. ”Come on, sweating already, big guy? I could run a marathon by the time you actually started running!” The Fist Fighter chuckled a bit, stepping back to lean against the wall. Come at me, man. I’m ready to feel pain…

The Heavy Axe charged at him, his axe being dragged behind him. His partner was behind him, charging at the boy who had his eyes closed, smiling. Mikoto charged at the second man, his blade pulled out and ready. He heard the collision of sword and axe. Steel grinded against each other, then broke away and clashed again. He opened one eye to find the Heavy Axe only a mere three yards away from where he was leaning against the wall. He rolled away to the side, watching as the battleaxe made a dent in the wall where he had just been standing. His eyes widened at the sight of it. He had quite the powerful weapon. Maybe this guy wasn’t a little kid munching on chocolate chip cookies while playing this game after all…

He roared and spun around, charging at the boy. Shenmock jumped as the axe came at his feet, but was left with nothing to move around with. The man grinned and laughed as he brought up his axe at full power, letting Shenmock go flying back into the wall. The boy crumbled to the ground, his hit points down a bit more than he wanted them to be. He was still at a safe point, but the impact had totally knocked the breath out of him. He had fought a Heavy Axe like this before, so he could do it again! Hopefully I’ve learned enough to beat this guy.

He charged at the man, his knee coming up to hit him like before. The man grabbed his leg and swung him the other way, making him yell in surprise at the strength. He landed on the ground in a crouch, finding the Heavy Axe in front of him, his battleaxe being brought down. He leapt back, his body doing multiple spins before landing on the ground again. He slid back, his palm on the ground as to slow him down. He looked up and watched as the man ran at him, his eyes seeming like a void of darkness. He frowned and started to think, but forced himself to snap out of it. He dodged to the side as the man swung his axe down before he pulled his axe out of the ground and swung at him. He ducked and rammed his body into the man, making him stagger. Now’s my chance!

The Fist Fighter went into a flurry of punches, hitting the man in the rib cage, chin, arms, and everywhere he could hit. It was enough that the armor that had been there was a bit worn out from the quick assault the Fist Fighter had made. Shenmock pulled his fist back for the final time, calling out into the air. ”Kiwami!” His fist glowed sapphire as he dug his fist into the man’s armor. The smallest dent was made, but it was a dent nonetheless. The attack blew the Heavy Axe off his feet from the mere power of the attack. He frowned and crossed his arms at the sight of the man getting up, dragging his axe up with two hands from the ground. He prepared himself, the clash of steel still ringing in his ears. He charged.

The Heavy Axe pulled his axe back, grunted, and swung at the boy. The axe came so quick that it was a blur. The man roared a mix of words that he couldn’t make out, the axe already having collided with his chest. He let out a gasp as the breath was knocked out of him. His avatar was sent spinning out of the way, only to hit a wall, breathless. He winced at the sight of blood leaking from the wound. It hurt; it hurt so much. With another rasped breath, he got up and muttered a ‘Repth’ under his breath. A blue aura surrounded him, the aura digging into the wound that had been left by the axe, but he found that it didn’t do a whole lot for it. He looked to his opponent, who took a step forward and rushed at him, axe pulled back.

Shenmock sprinted at him and leapt off the ground, his feet already pointed at the man. Using his arms, he swung himself around, his legs drilling into the man’s arms. He landed on the ground after the failed attack, only to be hit with the axe again. He fell back to the ground, cursed under his breath, and got back up. Come on, boy, you can do better than that, come on, come on, land a few hits on him. Don’t fall down, just keep rushing at him, come on, come on, come on! He told himself over and over, over and over, over and over, but his legs were heavy and his breaths were deep.

Come on!

It was a voice of anger in his head. It was of darkness and he refused to think of it. Don’t be afraid, boy! Fight him, fight him, fight him! He kept on wanting to refuse, but he couldn’t. The part of him that had power, that had bravery, and that had darkness…was where he would win. You are afraid of him!? Afraid?! Come on, boy, you know that you can do better! It was like a demon urging him to kill his best friend. He closed his eyes, opened them, and charged, a dark force urging him forward to fight, fight until he had nothing left, nothing left at all.

The Heavy Axe grinned at the boy and prepared his axe for another swing at the boy’s chest. Jump, boy, jump! Aim for a kill! He frowned and jumped, the axe coming under him. He brought his foot down on the man’s head, making him face plant on the ground. Good, good, good! Now aim for a kill, aim for a kill! The voice urged in his head to murder the man right now, but Shenmock didn’t let the darkness control him. He played as his opponent did, whether he got killed or not. The voice hissed at him in disapproval as he let the man get up from the ground. He stepped back and prepared his fists.

”You got lucky, boy! This is only the beginning.” The man swung the axe at the boy with a thrust to the head. The boy stepped back, the axe skimming off his nose.

He means to kill you, boy! Fight him like you’d fight a murderer! Fight like them and you’ll come out with a win! It let out a laugh and hissed at him again.

I’m not a murderer, never will be. I’ll fight my way and that’s it. I might’ve needed your help, but right now, you’re just being an annoyance. He tried to clear it out of his head, but it kept on coming, hissing back at him to fight harder, to kill the man whenever he had an opening. He preferred not to fight cheap and that was how it would be, even if his opponent wanted to just kill him. The axe was brought heavily down at his head once again. The Fist Fighter was forced to jump back, the edge of the axe making a drop of blood drip from his cheek. He slid back, his fists prepared. He charged at him, aiming for a punch to the face, but only found his opponent’s fist digging into his chest. He crumbled to the ground in a heap and with that the man raised the axe. For a moment, it seemed that time stopped. It seemed to go slow…

See, boy! He is going to kill you and it’s your fault. You were the one who let him get past you. You are too soft! Let the darkness take over and win! The voice it had was one of both anger and greed. There was something behind it that he caught, something that he wanted to know.

Why do you urge me?! Why? You could always urge someone else, but why me? I haven’t had any of these problems. I had troubles in the Juk Prison, but so what? The problems seem big, something that you’re worried about. Is it that shard, the shard that you want?! Is it so very important that I, Shenmock, have to get and let it take over me? Well let me tell you this. If you really want it that bad, go mess with someone else’s mind!

The voice was silent for a moment. The boy had given his speech and wasn’t the least bit satisfied with the voice inside of him. It was starting to piss him off, even if it granted him power and all the wishes that he’d want! You are strong, boy, as is. But your mind is weak; you cannot resist the darkness and always call out for it like it’s going to save you from something…you’ve done it ever since you were a toddler and I think it’s about time you made a choice: let the darkness encroach you, let it help you through your life, or let it leave and let you die. The choice is yours. The voice faded and left his mind, making him think clearly again. Reality came back to him and at the sight of the axe coming down on him made him think again.

Stay weak or become strong… I’ve avoided the question my whole life, but now, now I have to l-let it… The voice of Mikoto came to his ears. He heard a startled yell from his opponent as he was hit back by the blade.

“-are you doing, Shenmock?! Get up before you get us both killed!” The Fist Fighter was confused at what was happening. He looked up and saw his opponent panting a few yards away. He prepared himself for what was coming. He closed his eyes, looked down, and called the help of darkness to aid him in his battle. He wanted to scream at himself for making such a stupid decision, but it was the choice he had to make. The Heavy Axe came at him, the loud clanging of armor coming to his ears. A strange essence seemed to be inside of him. A demon, it seemed, that lurked inside of him.

Power, power, power, power, power, power…

He kept a straight face, stared at the man, and rushed forward at the Heavy Axe. The man swung his axe sideways, as there was nowhere else to go, but found only thin air. The Fist Fighter had actually leapt over the man’s head and landed on the other side of him. It was a maneuver that any player could do, but the risk of being off guard in the middle of the air was huge. The Fist Fighter pulled his fist back and punched the man in the face as the Heavy Axe whirled around. His eyes darkened as he followed up by kneeing the man in the chest. He grabbed the man’s shoulders and kept on doing the same maneuver before letting go, landing on the ground, then jumping and landing a spin kick to the man’s face. He landed on the ground, watching the man stagger back, but watched as the man got up to laugh once again.

That was hardly enough, boy, even if it was better than the other few attacks. Shenmock frowned at the voice. He still had a bit of control over himself, but just a little. It seemed stupid that something like this could take over him, but it was only the truth. He still hated the name boy. It still felt strange to have it inside of him, but it truly did feel different. He had seen strange differences with people before; maybe other people had a voice inside of their head that said ’You’re not strong enough, keep killing people and you will get stronger, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah…’. He doubted they said that, but he was sure that some people had some kind of…essence inside of them that made them make…different choices, to say. He charged at the Heavy Axe again and muttered a spell under his breath. A cool aura surrounded him and he watched as an ice pillar slowly rose from the ground in front of the Heavy Axe.

It was an actual tactic from the oncoming Fist Fighter. Shenmock leapt up from the ground and landed on the slanted ice pillar. He pushed off the ice pillar and shot up into the air, his body slanted so he’d still be facing the Heavy Axe. He didn’t care if he was copying his opponent, Centrus. He hoped that Cent wouldn’t mind him using it. He brought his fist down along with his body. The Heavy Axe looked up and let out a yell of surprise as the boy descended. The fist collided with the man’s head, bringing the Heavy Axe down to the ground. Shenmock frowned and ignored the voice in his head that yelled at him to finish the man off. The man got up and grunted at him.

”Boy, you are too easy. You’ve had so many times to kill me and yet you stop at the final moment. You show mercy to your opponents and that will net you the loss in everything! Learn it and use it!”

The man laughed and pulled his axe back, a white aura coming around him. The Fist Fighter sighed and started to back step, as there was nothing better to do, but run. The Heavy Axe came charging, yelling like a maniac. The Fist Fighter jumped and let out a spin kick. It hit him, but he was hit worse. The axe came around and collided with his side, sending him spinning. He slid past Mikoto and into the wall, blood leaking from the deep gash in his side. He grimaced and got up, not caring about the amount of hit points he had left. He looked up and glared at the oncoming opponent. Darkness glinted in his eyes as he sprinted forward at the man. He leapt into the air, both legs lashing out at the man. One of them collided with his chest, while the other was flung aside by the man’s flailing axe. Taking advantage of the space, the boy went into a flurry of punches, trying to get some serious damage on the man. His fists beat against its armor six times before the man brought his axe down, forcing the boy back. He slid back and got up into an upright position. Both men looked over to the fight of their comrades. It was just as close.

Mikoto brought his blade up, eyes ablaze. The blade connected with the man’s chin and sent the Heavy Axe sprawling back. The Heavy Blade panted and pulled his blade back again, preparing it for another block or hit. The Heavy Axe wiped the blood off his cheek and got up, his battleaxe pulled back like Mikoto’s. Both were considerably low on hit points, but they still fought like demons. The Heavy Blade charged forward and leapt into the air, his blade whirling about. His opponent frowned and stepped forward, swinging his axe forward to hit the blade away. Sparks flew and Mikoto was forced back. The man slid back on the ground and got up, his blade already pulled back and ready for more. Both men charged forward again, axe and sword twisting and clashing.

The boy flinched at the sight of Mikoto being hit back. He knew the man wouldn’t let him, though. The Heavy Blade got up and raised his blade, ready for more. His opponent grunted and charged, long gray hair flowing behind him. He swung his axe in an accurate downwards swing. Mikoto stepped to the side and whirled around, his blade coming with him to deal an upward swing to the man. The Heavy Blade twisted around, his leg swinging into the man’s armor to bring him down. He whirled around and swung down on the man’s head, making the Heavy Axe scream in pain. Shenmock’s opponent looked pained to see his partner dying. The Heavy Blade pulled his blade down and brought it down, gouging into flesh and bone.

The Heavy Axe let out another pained scream and this time Shenmock’s opponent sprinted forward, his axe headed to deal an earth-shattering blow to Mikoto’s head. The Fist Fighter grumbled and charged at him, leaping into the air and swinging himself around to deal a roundhouse kick to the man’s cheek that sent him a few feet back. He looked to Mikoto, a tint in his eye saying that he was okay. The Heavy Blade nodded in his direction before deflecting a swing from his opponent’s axe. He looked over to the man, who was rubbing his cheek, his other hand on the axe. The Fist Fighter stepped forward and prepared himself, his blue jacket whirling in the wind. His cloak was off and right now, he didn’t need it. There were all kinds of straps around him. He pulled out what looked like two small poles. There was a soft click before chains appeared in the middle. The boy spun them around swiftly in his hand, his fingers moving fast enough with them to make them look actually lethal to the man. He held one in each hand and prepared himself for the man. He had gotten it from Kiwi and he planned to use it well. He smiled and watched as the Heavy Axe came at him, a poleax in his hand.

The Heavy Axe grunted and leapt into the air, the axe coming down. The boy took a nippy step forward and raised his left hand, the pole colliding with a half of his first nunchaku. With a swift flick of his wrist, he wrapped it around the pole and brought it around so two fingers could wrap around it. With a yell, he brought it violently down, released it, and swung both at them in a whirl, dealing six hits to the mans cheek before he kneed him and sent him staggering back towards the wall. His index and middle fingers on both nunchucks caught the chain and spun it around in his hands before his fist clenched around them, leaving him to frown and look to the Heavy Axe, who was preparing his axe for the fight.

”Are you done yet? We’re both wasting our time and there are probably more people out there who’ve already gotten their grubby hands on whatever that Dark Orb, crystal thing is.” He frowned, his nunchucks still prepared for battle if the man came at him. ”If either of us wants to get it, we’ll have to end this quickly…” He flipped the weapons up and there was another soft click before the boy slipped them into one of his many pockets. He prepared his fists again, determined to finish it quickly. The man pulled out another axe, this time it being short.

The man grunted. ”I’d like to see you try, chump. It’s called the Dark Shard, for your information, and it’s the last shard for…forget it, kid, I’m not telling you anything until you’re lying on the ground rotting away as a corpse. Come at me! See if you can defeat me!” The man laughed and braced himself, his eyes glimmering with the slightest tint of fear.

He fears that he will lose. Fight ferociously, take him down, kill him! the voice hissed in his head. The Fist Fighter flinched at it, but ignored its comments about being afraid of the darkness, giving into the darkness, being the darkness. That sounded like Faust and how he made the monsters suffer by killing them slowly. How bland.

The Fist Fighter tore forward, his feet literally bouncing off the ground. ”One of us will live…and one of us will die…my fate lies here,” the boy murmured. With that, the Fist Fighter leapt into the air, his eyes ablaze. He switched his weapons out once again for the nunchucks and the click came again, followed by a roar from the oncoming Fist Fighter. ”Double…Mortal Scorcher!” His nunchucks became ablaze with fire, making his character’s heart warm. He brought both nunchucks down on the man’s head, coming down on his axe. The man’s axe was glowing red, too, and his face was grim. ”This is the end…

Both weapons collided, flames licking at each other’s arms and the like. The Heavy Axe let out a bellow of pain, the Fist Fighter following suit as the flames were burning his cold skin, leaving burn marks everywhere. Smoke rose, making both go into a coughing fit despite their weapons still locked together. The Fist Fighter closed his watering eyes and wrapped the nunchucks around the pole. Swinging himself forward, he let go of the nunchucks, a light following after because of his switching of weapons. He pulled his fist back and there was a second where the smoke cleared and both could see each other’s expression. The Heavy Axe let out a yell of surprise as the Fist Fighter’s clenched knuckles connected with his cheek, ending his life once and for all. The man was sent sprawling back to the ground, his body already turning gray. The boy took a rasped breath, inhaling some of the smoke and making him cough even more. He stumbled for a moment, trying to fall the wall for a hold, but crumbled down to the ground before he could get a handhold.

He heard another yell from his dead opponent’s partner, signifying that he was just about dead too. He heard Mikoto yell something. It sounded like a skill, as it resounded through the room. The boy pushed off the ground, the burns searing through his skin and making him fall down to the ground again, his eyes weary. He heard the rumble of electricity and another scream from the Heavy Blade’s opponent. He heard a shrill thud and listened to the axe clattering to the ground. He mumbled a quick La Repth under his breath before pushing himself off the ground, most of the burns that had covered his arms and legs gone, but some still there. He stood up straight and muttered another Repth under his breath before turning to the Heavy Blade, who stood with his boot on the corpse, his blade heaved onto his shoulder, a smile protruding on his face. The man laughed and watched as the man’s corpse dematerialized, leaving only small signs of blood.

”Nice job out there, Shen, looked like you were having a bit of a…tough time, but at least we pulled out. My opponent wasn’t really that hard, because he was so slow to react whenever I swung at him…” The rest of what Mikoto was saying got lost in a sea of wonder as both of them approached the black passageway in front of them. The Fist Fighter stepped forward and through the room and looked to the end of the passageway, noticing a long stairwell in front of them. He looked to Mikoto who was still talking about his great battle. ”…and he kept on stumbling whenever I attacked, he hardly got a hit on me…Shenmock, why are you looking at me like that? Oh, wait, oh, the stairs, that’s cool. Anyways…”

So the two went on, both trying to enjoy themselves as they traversed through the dungeon into the darkness, a tint of fear in their heart, but reality still clutching on.

Click-clack went the shoes as two men walked slowly into a corridor that begun the second floor of an immense dungeon. One seemed more excited than the other to get a move on and one really didn’t like the dungeon all too much. Pillars were lined against the walls, each craggy and splashed with blood that sunk into multiple cracks that had plastered the wall. The blood was dry, the red color almost having faded into it. Mosquitoes covered the wall, some examining the blood while others avoided the other dangerous predators that lurked through the small area of space that they called home. A crack in the ceiling gave way to an area where bits of dirt sunk back down and into. It hit the ground softly and separated further, dust forming in its midst. The blue-haired boy stepped on the dust, bringing it up into the air to make him cough slightly. The man looked to him with concern, but smiled before patting him on the back, making him laugh as the two walked through the next dark passageway and into the next room, where more monsters would lurk.

They came into a long, narrow passageway, probably only five yards apart. The end split into two different directions, one leading to treasure or monsters, the other leading to their destination. The two let out a sigh at the same time, laughed again, and continued forward, their expressions a bit grave as they came forward towards the decision point. The blue-haired boy was the first to stop and look both ways, each serving as two different destinations to death or life. The boy nodded his head in the right direction, the other man nodding and following him to the next passageway. They passed skeleton upon skeleton, each more rotting than the other, some not even having any flesh on them, the bugs having eaten away at it and leaving nothing in their midst. No leftovers, as some people would say, but not the party of two, not them. There were cages above them too that were high, near the ceiling, where more rotted away, making the stench unbearable, though Shenmock couldn’t smell it. He was happy that ‘The World’ didn’t make them go through torture, though he knew he already had.

The two walked through the passageway, finding bad luck once again. A portal spun around in the middle, awaiting them as the two approached slowly. Mikoto slowly drew his blade, the blade echoing as it was drawn out of its sheath. There was a snap of fingers and two small poles found themselves in Shenmock’s hands. There was a click and chains whipped up in the middle, making the second half go limp, free to be lashed about. The boy swung them up and prepared himself, watching as Mikoto looked over his blade, checking for any scratches before the battle started. The Fist Fighter frowned and approached first, his fingers curling tighter around the middle. He walked slowly up to it and waited, watching as the golden rings whirled around. He twirled them in his hands, watching as the monsters formed in front of him. It was time for battle again. This would be fun.

The monsters resembled that of a plant, almost looking like a simple Mad Grass, though it was much bigger and saliva dripped down from its mouth in large chunks. There were four in all, but they had a considerably low amount of hit points and defense. It was the reason they came in quadruple pairs or even more. They were grass type, so they would be obviously weak against earth type attacks. He hated earth type attacks, but he had a few up his sleeve. He even had a few scrolls for it, but he would save those for later. Wait, maybe he didn’t. He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t bother to check in his inventory. He looked up at the monsters, twirled the nunchucks around in his hands, and charged forward at one of the Snappy Grass (as he had seen on its status screen), the red nunchucks being enveloped in dark flames.

With a yell, he swung them down, the words being roared from his lips. ”Ensatsu!” The weapons came down on one of them, the weapons coming down in a whirl of activity, hitting it this way and that and finishing off with a final swing, leaving most of its stems to burn away. He watched as it cried out in pain, leaving him to twirl his weapons around and prepare another assault on it. He twirled them around in his head, watching as the Snappy Grass reared its head back and scuttled forward, its sharp teeth coming out in quick flashes that would most certainly do some damage to the boy. He leapt back, his weapons being swung out. The first one came from his right hand, the nunchuck coming around to hit it in the side of his head. The boy did a full three sixty, swinging his left one to hit it away. He smiled slyly and watched as it reared its head back again, the plant approaching its doom.

The weapons disappeared in a flash of sparks, revealing Shenmock, his hand raised and the air above him seemed heavy. To the monsters it smelt of rock and soil. That was just what was about to happen. ”…Gan Don…” the boy whispered under his breath, watching as the boulder came spinning down toward the now-alarmed monster. It scuttled back, trying to escape the boulder, but the monster couldn’t escape. The boy watched with grim satisfaction as the monster was crushed under the weight of the boulder, the element proving too much for it. The gray corpse came over it and hovered up into the air, its body fading into nothingness. He looked to Mikoto, who had yelled a word of a skill.

The Snappy Grass looked up and let out a roar of surprise as the man came down, his blade enveloped with rock and soil. ”Gan Smash!” the man called as the blade crushed the monster under his weight. He heard one last peep from the Snappy Grass before it too fell to the ground, its gray corpse fading into the depths of the dungeon. There were two left, each relatively two yards away from each other, both looking to their new opponents, gunk-filled teeth ready for action. Mikoto looked to him, a scratch on his cheek from a cut the monster had managed to deal. It didn’t look like anything at all and that was what he ended his thoughts with.

The Snappy Grass charged forward on its wee little feet (were they feet, Shenmock didn’t know), its head snapping forward and sinking into the boy’s flesh. The boy let out a yell, his knee snapping forward and kneeing it right in the chin. It was flung back onto the ground, where it shot right back up. It bared its teeth again like it was trying to be a vampire and all the while failing at its impersonation. The boy took a heavy step back, dug his feet into the ground, and leapt into the air, his feet lashing out into a roundhouse kick. It connected with the monster and sent it spinning back into the wall. He frowned, watching it as it slowly got up, revealing no signs of fear against the Fist Fighter. The boy charged forward, his legs heavy as he pulled his fist back and punched it clear in the face, though its nose was only slits and its eyes were nowhere to be found. It flew back into the wall again, leaving him to knee it three times in the stem, his eyes ablaze. The voice came back in his head, urging him on, urging him to keep on kneeing it.

He pulled his left fist back, Rue energy coming forth from it. A raging wind came around him, blowing his spiky blue hair to the right. He held it with his fist, ignoring the thorns that were gouging into his flesh. He winced once as blood dripped to the ground, staining its stubby feet. He pulled it back, the wind forming a sphere of ice and water. The monster snapped its teeth forward, but it couldn’t get to the boy. He pulled his fist back and thrust it forward with two words erupting from his throat. ”…Rue Rom!” He shoved the sphere into the monsters head, blasting out its sharp teeth and even slicing off its uvula, making it roar even more. The ice shards sunk into the back of its throat, leaving him to only pull his bloody hand back. A few teeth had sunk into it, but it was more the blood that had come from its mouth. He watched as it crumbled to the ground, already dematerializing.

He heard Mikoto laugh, making the boy turn to look at him. He was already done with his battle, but he seemed to like the inventive way that the boy had used. ”Where’d you learn that from? It’s a pretty impressive way to use, but then again, it’s just interesting to watch. Doesn’t do more damage or anything, I don’t think.” He looked to the blue-haired boy, who was now frowning.

Shenmock looked up. ”I figured it out on my own. Thought it would be a cool way to make battles more interesting, I guess. But other than that, just decided to make it like that…nothing big.” He stretched and relaxed, walking forward to the passageway that was in front of the two. The Heavy Blade yawned like it was nothing, walking with him, pondering what to talk about as they came to the next room.

”So, why’d you join ‘The World’, Shen? It’s a question that party members typically ask, but really, I don’t know why you joined. You’re kind of a mystery, but then again, I myself am a mystery too.” He looked with a questioning eye. The Fist Fighter kicked a skeleton out of his way and watched it shatter at impact.

He rolled his eyes. ”I’ve had to answer this question dozens upon dozens of times. I was interested in the game and everyone talked about it. Well, not everybody, but you get my point. I’ve gotten myself into a lot of situations and the like, but I’ve usually gotten out alive and all that fun stuff. Every time I solo, something weird happens, but…yeah.” He looked to Mikoto. ”What’s your story, Mikoto?”

The Heavy Blade shrugged. ”Same as you, really. Everyone was bugging me to get into the game. I don’t have much of a background story behind myself, but…I’m thinking you’ll learn soon enough.” He winked at Shenmock and jogged off through the passageway. The Fist Fighter stopped for a second, thinking over the words. He shook his head and raced back behind him, through the darkness and out into the next hallway. The Heavy Blade was already halfway through the V shaped hallway. The boy raced after him, catching up with ease from the speed. The two decided on turning left through the first entrance. The Heavy Blade went first, followed by the Fist Fighter. A gate slid shut behind the two, making both give each other looks of disgust. A portal came up in front of them, letting out a splash of golden light. The Heavy Blade slowly drew out a long blade. The boy stuffed his hands in his pockets, sighing deeply and looking up at the portal, which was already dematerializing.

The boy slowly approached as a monster clad in steel armor came up. The boy looked up at the intimidating monster, his heart not bothering to skip any beats but pump up. The Heavy Blade rolled his eyes at the Fist Fighter, who felt fearless at the moment. He had gone through worse, of course. He charged at it slowly and leapt up into the air, his foot flashing out as a roundhouse kick. It collided, but nearly bounced off when it connected with its armor. He landed on the ground and looked up the monster, who had a ball and chain ready to smash into him. It let out a roar and pulled it back, swinging it down. He let out a yell of surprise and stumbled out of the way as it made a dent in the ground. Mikoto charged at it, eyes ablaze as he pulled up his blade and swung at the monster.

He yelled, ”Danku!” before he let his blade drop. There was a loud crack as the monster’s armor cracked under the strike. Rock and dirt flew ubiquitously, making the Fist Fighter cover his face as rocks pelted his body. The final rock that came, he managed to smash with his knuckles, letting it split into two pieces under the strength of the punch. He looked up at the monster. It was a strong monster, that much was for sure, but how strong? The Fist Fighter warily hurried, trying to make his way around the monster without attracting its attention. The Heavy Blade stood not two yards from it, his blade held high, ready to dodge or strike. Mikoto crouched down and leapt, his blade swinging in a full 360, dealing another cut, managing to whittle down the monsters’ hit points down a little lower. The boy slid to a stop, making dust rise above him. He looked up at its back and smiled slyly. He loved climbing and climbing something like this sounded easier than anything else…or maybe it wasn’t.

The boy rushed forward and did his best to leap into the air onto it. He grabbed at its plate of armor and pulled himself up in a long jump to grab on the next available handhold. His fingers slipped onto the handhold, dug themselves in until they felt comfortable for his character, pulled his feet up so they could dig themselves into the crevice, pulled himself back out of the cramped position, and pulled himself up in a mighty leap to its neck. The whole process had taken just about five seconds and it was well worth it. The boy wrapped his arms around its neck, trying to pull it back, but it wouldn’t budge. Its hit points whittled away one by one, but it had almost two thousand of them. He frowned as it reared its head back, trying to throw him back. He wrapped one arm around him and shoved his hand into his pocket to reveal one nunchuk. He spun it around once before it was enveloped in flames.

He pulled it back. ”Double Mortal Scorcher!” he called, swinging the one nunchuk down onto the monster’s head as it reared back again. It wasn’t as much, due that he could only hold one of them, but it was enough to do some damage. The monster let out a roar, pulled its head forward, and swung back. His fingers were sweaty and they slipped off like he was holding onto ice. He flew back and spun into the wall that was right behind him. The monster whirled around, bringing its ball and chain towards him, despite the swing from Mikoto. He swung it back and pulled it forward, letting it literally smash into the Fist Fighter. Three, no four cracks made themselves in the wall under the power that the monster had given to it. The boy let out a gasp as his hit points were wiped out…almost. Three hit points remained after the powerful shot.

The boy crumbled to the ground in a heap, multiple ribs cracked and his arms crushed under the weight of the attack. He was the one who had pushed himself against the wall. It was the worst way to take a hit. On feet that hardly held him up, he prepared himself, mumbled healing spells coming up not seconds afterward. He kept up mumbling one after the other, one after the other, even after his hit points were clearly full. He looked up, his eyes a bit of a blur. His character wanted to fall to the ground, but his will told him to fight. It was mere determination that moved his character forward at the monster. Mikoto swung at the monster’s leg again and watched as dark blood oozed out of the wound before swinging at the wound, making it split into something more serious.

The boy stumbled forward and started in a series of punches at its leg, aware that as he hit it harder, his knuckles started to bleed. Relentless, he kept on swinging his arms, whether it was flailing around or actually going into a combo followed by something fancy like a front-flip, followed by a kick down to do a bit more damage to the momentum. He looked up at the monster as it swung its ball and chain before bringing it down on the boy. Eyes glimmering, he shot out under its legs and slid, the weapon grazing off the back of his head. ”Come and catch me!” the boy yelled as he got up and sprinted off towards the wall, the monster obviously giving chase. He made a face at it as it threw its ball and chain at him.

”Ap Corv,” Shenmock mumbled under his breath. He brought two fans out, resembling the Dragon Fans. He flashed them out and jumped, letting his foot fly out at the monster.

”Hayai Kick,” he muttered under his breath, watching as his body was surrounded with another aura. He let his foot fly out at the side. His shoe caught it and with the previous spell and the skill, he managed to swing it out of the way just enough for it to fly harmlessly into the wall inches from his location. He rushed forward, seeing as the monster didn’t have any defenses. He threw the fans up in the air, replacing them with his Nunchuks. He leapt into the air and let out a mighty roundhouse kick to its chest. The monster let out a roar and fell back to the ground, leaving him to dust off his costume and prepare himself for the oncoming fight.

Mikoto, meanwhile, had still been hacking at its legs, making it harder for it to move up. The Heavy Blade pulled his blade up again and swung down at it, dealing yet another hard hit, digging deeper into the wound he had dealt not ten seconds before. Blood trickled from the wound again. ”Calamity!” the man called and swung down again, his blade digging into his leg and making the monster let out another groan as its hit points dug a little bit down into the deep end. That was definitely an up for the two boys, but a down for the monster. The monster let out a roar and got up, its hands clearing out the area and its feet trying to kick away the two. It stood up again, its head coming close to the ceiling as it loomed over them. The blue-haired Fist Fighter glared at it and charged, the Heavy Blade following behind.

”Rue Rom,” the Fist Fighter called, his hand held low. Hoarfrost formed in front of the boy and sped off in a whirlwind of the elements. ”Good luck with that,” he muttered with a cold smirk on his face. Ice ripped and tore into its armor, water following (though not as successful as the dart-like shards) before the wind started its toll on the armor. Though it was incoherent from where he was, he knew that small cuts were laying themselves on the monster’s armor.

He continued to rush at the monster, his stride never ceasing and his eyes no longer wavering like before. He pulled his fist back and let it connect with the leg. He followed up by ducking to the ground and bringing his foot around his body. The attack hit and his fist that was already pulled behind his character followed it. He swung it and punched it again before doing a full front flip and swinging his foot down to finish the short, but powerful combo. He looked up at it as it swung its ball and chain back behind its shoulder and swung down on him. He let out a yell of surprise and bounded back, Mikoto silently following him as the steel ball hit the ground, making the ground shudder under its weight.

The Heavy Blade stopped short and turned to the monster, his blade upraised and ready. A rigorous aura surrounded him, blowing his hair back as he charged at the monster. The Fist Fighter stood there, watching as the Heavy Blade ducked to the side, evading the ball and chain before jumping into the air and shoving his spear through the monster’s chest and out through its spine. It let out a roar of pain as its heart came to a halt. Mikoto ripped the blade out of its chest and stood down, watching it as it crumbled to the ground in a heap. Shenmock gawked at the scene, his eyes wide at what had just happened. He had just…cleared the monster in a single stab. Daaaaaaaaaang. He frowned and crossed his arms, staring at his partner with a questioning eye.

Mikoto shrugged. ”Probably a critical hit; don’t worry, I’m not superman, not even close.” The man winked at him and walked out through the passageway, leaving Shenmock in a daze. He turned and raced back through the passageway, not liking the eerie feeling in the room. They walked back into the room and continued on, silent except for the echo of their footsteps ringing in their ears.

Shenmock frowned and pulled his hands back so they were pulled back to hang around his head. ”What next?” he asked with a frown. He expected only two more battles in the dungeon, but what did he know? The Fist Fighter and the Heavy Blade walked through the next passageway, only to find that they stood in the room leading to the next floor. They both felt like yelling and cheering for their success, but there was one obstacle in their way.

Another party.

Three girls stood with their backs turned to the two boys. The boy scowled at the party of three. It’d make things much harder to deal with one extra player, not to mention a girl. He crossed his arms and looked to the party, glaring at them as they turned back. The girl held what looked like a whip. He hadn’t seen many whipmasters before, but he guessed now was the time for him to meet one. He looked at her with a dull expression. She crossed her arms like him, watching the two.

She grumbled. ”What do you want, chump?” she asked with a venomous tone. The boy almost recoiled at it, but stood his ground, his fists struggling to contain themselves. The boy almost retorted with his own comment, but Mikoto put a hand in front of him. He looked over to him as if to say ‘Let me do the talking’.

The man smiled. ”We’re just passing through, ladies. It’s mere coincidence that we met her, I’m thinking, so we better be on our way.” He moved forward, but the three girls held their ground. One of them, one who held a long, curved blade, was the one to talk.

”I’m sure. We came here for a reason and it’s obvious that you did too. Now…” She held her blade up, as if to threaten them. ”It’s fate that led us here and it is fate who will decide the fight. If you are to get past us, draw your weapons. I dare you.”

The blue-haired Fist Fighter gladly drew his gauntlets and prepared himself for battle, his eyes forming a glare and his lips shaping a deep frown. The Heavy Blade sighed at how fast the boy had gotten ready. Shenmock looked up at him with an innocent look. Mikoto didn’t look pleased at the situation, but drew his sword nonetheless. The last girl drew a bow, making the boy flinch. He hated fighting girls. It was such a drag to do it. He’d of rather just fought someone fifty levels higher. So, a whipmaster, an archer, and a blademaster. He’d have to go for the whipmaster, judging that if he got in close, her whip would be useless.

”Rue Zot. Rue Rom.” The words were uttered rapidly under his breath so they wouldn’t see it coming. He heard a terrified yell as an ice thorn shot up from the ground, enveloping the girl and freezing her in place. A tornado of damp water and shredded ice wisped forward, connecting with the thorn of ice to increase the damage dealt. There was an explosion as shards of ice whizzed past everyone in the room. The boy covered his eyes with his arms, watching as ice crashed into the wall, sticking there for a few seconds before they evaporated. He looked up to the crumbled heap of the girl. She was laying on the ground, face down. Her partners let out a yell. The archer cast a Repth on her, not quite making up for the whole spell, but making up for the vast majority of it all. The boy frowned. The healer seemed to be the archer. That was just great.

The girl cracked her whip on the ground, cracking an ice shard right in half. Her eyes were an icy blue, almost threatening. She brushed a hand through her blonde hair and smiled maliciously. She rushed forward and jumped into the air, her whip rotating around her body in an elegant manner. The boy pulled out his nunchuks and bounded forward, his nunchuks already enveloped in flames. ”Double Mortal Scorcher!” he roared. She let out a giddy laugh and came spinning down to the ground, an aura already surrounding her. He did a full three sixty and hurled the two weapons up into the air. He braced himself for what was to come. The flames licked at her skin, making her let out a grunt before she brought her twelve foot whip down. It came down on his cheek, slapping him away before it came at his side. She spun around and brought it down on his head, making him stagger back and let out a yell of pain. Blood leaked down from the wound on his head. He licked it away and pulled out his gauntlets, preparing himself for her.

”Come on, little boy, scared of the big girls?” she seethed, her whip lashing out. He ducked and rammed his body forward, smashing into the girl and sending her rolling back to the ground.

”Girls are fragile things. I’ve broken one already and I’m not quite ready to break one again.” The memory came back to him. He flinched and held up his hands, letting the whip lash against his arms. He rushed forward, letting his foot slice the air. Her feet were hit out from under her. She let out a cry of pain and hit the ground. He brought his foot up and around towards her back. She let out another howl of pain. An arrow whizzed past his head, making him look to see another girl aiming at him.

”Quaking Arrow of Fissure!” she called, her arrow glowing sapphire. The arrow whizzed out, catching the boy in the side. He caught a glimpse of Mikoto. He brought his blade down on the girl’s head, knocking her down to the floor. He staggered back into the wall. The whip lashed out again. It was a blur as it came down, at least to his eyes. He yanked the arrow out of his side and threw it away, blood leaking again from the wound.

An aura surrounded him, making him frown and look to Mikoto, who had his left hand upraised. The blonde-haired girl threw her hand back and swung down, the whip doing all sorts of curves before it hit the bare ground in front of the boy. ”Don’t you ignore me!” she yelled, the whip cracking on the ground not inches from his feet. He bounced back towards the wall, his eyes locked onto her as she sprinted forward. He pulled his fans out and did a quick jump. She had come way too close. His foot rammed into her cheek, sending her spinning back into a pillar.

She let out a scream and a curse that reached everybody’s ears. His fingers slid over the side of both fans before slipping them into his inventory. He put his hands on his sides, sighing and stepping forward, eyeing the girl. She was moving forward, moving with unsteady feet, moving forward at him. ”What is with this?” he muttered under his breath. The girl switched out whips once and sent it forward, the coil wrapping around his body. Electricity jolted from its base, coming forward to shock the boy. He let out a scream of pain and crumbled to the ground, his body feeling fried. His controller vibrated and his hit points seemed at a small rate. There seemed to be nothing left…she was going to win over him…maybe not, but this battle seemed to be a short one, unlike the last one.

The boy got up, only to see an arrow come into his arm. He whirled around, revealing his back to the whip once again. It lashed and he let out another scream of agony, falling down to the ground, his character’s back burning with pain. His cheek hit the ground, his body heavy. His eyes were weary, its usual bright emerald color a bit duller than it usually was. The surroundings seemed to be so dull, the game’s meaning of ‘fun’ growing farther and farther away, almost gone, almost dead. The girl stood over him and kicked him in the side, laughing as if he was nothing. He heard Mikoto yell and the girl was smashed back. Hard. He was in a trance for a moment, memories flooding back in. I’ve broken a girl before.

People would find that James Shakehard was a dull kid. Yes, he was obviously dull and hadn’t had the best life in the world. No, he hadn’t, it had been more of a life without a lot of fun. If it had been fun, it might’ve been kind of a nice life. His lack of luck caused him to do some stupid things. It was hard, oh-so very hard for him. He had a few friends, but there wasn’t a lot to think about. There was a girl who he usually hung with. She stuck with him even when he yelled at her, screamed at her, tried to push her away. He had stopped a while ago and if he had done it one more time, or in the future, she’d likely break. Shatter. Be destroyed. It was like a hard piece of glass…

It was another night. It was probably ten o’clock or so, maybe ten thirty, somewhere around there. The stars were a bit dull, as the lampposts that lit their way seemed to conceal them from any gazing. She held his hand tightly. It was cold, a bit pale from the cold. It had started to snow; it was Christmas eve, just by coincidence. The snow rained down, making the ground under them slippery. She slipped and yelped, but he caught her. He didn’t smile, but he gave his best wink to her. She laughed and so they went on, into the night, he walking her home from a nice restaurant and a movie. It was one of James’ good nights. That was definite.

They stopped, still on the sidewalk. She started talking to him, in a low voice, just about stuff. They were there for minutes, just talking casually. Minutes later, James started to lean forward. His body seemed to move for him, he not even realizing what he was doing. She smiled and that was the night where he got his first kiss. It was mesmerizing, like a love story, almost as if a fairy tale had just occurred. Both leaned back and looked the other way. She was blushing, while the young man was smiling. He was sixteen; somewhere around there. He turned back, his black hair dotted with white snow. She had blonde hair, golden, as if the stars had cast their light on it. They started talking, this time into a bit serious. It was weird for James. He was feeling uneasy at that moment. He started to deny some of the things she said. It was weird, but it was the truth. He hated living in lies; he’d never do it. She frowned and continued to talk, hoping to get on a better notch. It didn’t get better. She started talking about something. James felt beyond weird. She started to yell. It was all a haze to him…without knowing it he shoved her away into the snow. It was harsh reality, it was him doing it, it was something that he hadn’t even seen coming. He had just…pushed out with his hands. She fell back on the snow, that little twinkle in her eye. He ran off.

He remembered it all too faintly. He had barged into the empty house and slammed the door shut, then had gone into the living room, turned on a lamp, and started to cry to himself. He didn’t know he had done back there. Was it instinct? Was it fate? He had just kissed a girl, then five minutes later, he shoved her away and ran off. The faint sound of sirens wore on in the distance. His heart skipped a few beats and he heard doors open and close. His mom burst into the door, yelling random words. He burst past her, sprinting out the door. He slid on the ice and fell, but got back up immediately, not caring about the burning pain in his head. He ran and ran, for what seemed like forever, slipping and falling multiple times on the sidewalk, trying to find what the cause was. The sirens grew louder as he ran. There was a crowd up there. What kind of thing got that? The police were handling some people; one of them had a gun in his hand.

His heart skipped twenty more beats as he sprinted through the crowd, shoving through everybody. He heard curses and yells, but he didn’t care. He had to find out what the cause of this was. He knew she would’ve gone in the house. No, she wouldn’t have stayed. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. He shoved through a plump man, then ducked under another person. Police were blocking his path. He shoved past, hearing the yells as they tried to pull him back. He looked down, seeing golden locks on the ground. Blood leaked down out of a hole. Tears ran down his cheeks as he jumped and landed on the bare ground. His knee started to bleed as he leaned over her. She blinked and started to talk through a rasped breath. He was crying, tears coming over her body. He muttered sorry thousands of times in those minutes. She started to calm and smiled one last time. Her parents were there, screaming, yelling, trying to get past like him. He started to scream as he burst out of the crowd, shoving past people. Her eyes were still, pale, dead.

Reality burst back into Shenmock’s face. He let out a yelp as the whip lashed again, his hit points beeping again. He spun, his leg lashing out and sending the girl out of the way. He muttered multiple healing spells as he got up, listening to the multiple cracks as bones found their places in his body. He rolled his shoulder and gestured for her to come forward, a bit shaky, but still determined. The girl raced forward on light feet, her whip swinging forward and trying to wrap itself around him. He grabbed it.

It wasn’t impossible to grab it, no, but it was hard to grab it. It was like a snake, slithering around. Fortunately for him, he wrapped his fingers and formed an iron grip. His other hand grabbed on and pulled back. She let go, but not fast enough. Her body was launched forward right into the face of his knee. His head followed with a head butt, something that he had learned in the two years of soccer that he had played. He heard a smash, a scream, and then another smash, followed by yet another scream. He dared himself to turn his head. He did. What he saw was two girls, both in a corner, a man standing over them, his sword pointed at their bloody heads. Mikoto laughed as if it were just a game. It was, after all, but he seemed to take care of it like it was some chore like making his bed. Unless he was mentally challenged, that would obviously be quite an easy one.

The girl looked, frowning, her eyes weary from the battle. Mikoto shrugged and laughed. One of the girls attempted to get out of the corner, but a quick flick of the blade and she was smashed back. Shenmock frowned at his opponent. ”Well, guess it’s just you and me now? Ready to rumble?” He chuckled softly and prepared himself. The candles flickered on the sides, almost burned out. The girl pulled out a new whip and danced forward.

”More like ready to dance, boy,” she said with a laugh. His eye twitched. Yes, it literally twitched. He didn’t like being called boy; for all she knew, he was older than him! Not to mention taller than her in the game itself. She lashed out with her whip to the side. He sidestepped and pressed forward, not too fast, not too slow. She pulled the handle behind her back and tried to wrap it around him. It swung around his form and then he was gone, already in the air. Right foot forward, left foot back, he looked like some kind of…idiot. He came forward and met her cheek, a loud smack! following. She staggered back and was met with a series of a few fancy punches and kicks. She staggered back again as he followed up with a knee to the chin. Blood spilled. She fell back. Her hit points were red. He walked up and did a light kick. It was at minimal. A flick from a finger would kill her.

”Do you have the guts?” she snarled.

”It shows how fragile life can be.” He crouched down and set an arm on her leg, staring at her face. His fingers curled around the skin and squeezed it. She let out a yelp and she dissimilated. She was gone, just like that, gray dust swirling in her wake. He heard two unfriendly screams as the other two perished. He dusted his legs off and looked to Mikoto, who was wiping his blade against a pillar. He had an uneasy look on his face.

”Another fight and we’ll be on the third floor, I’m guessing.” He turned to Shenmock. ”Are you ready for what comes next?” he asked, a perilous look in his eye.

The Fist Fighter gave a firm nod. The man grinned, and so the two walked off. They were a good pair for fighting. They hadn’t gone very far, but it was still something. They had created a bond between each other. It wouldn’t break; not for a while. He’d be seeing Mikoto for a long time now. Their fates were intertwined. Mikoto was knowing; Shenmock was not. The test was almost done, Shenmock’s new fate decided. It wouldn’t be long before it would occur to the boy. Would he pull out or would it end as perilous as Mikoto’s gaze?

Fate.

((OOC: Just a small battle scene that I'm adding in...so yeah. I think this came up to 35 pages with the talking...whoa. o.0 Sorry for the OOC comments! D: Just thought it'd make it...less confusing.))

It was a perilous journey that Shenmock knew didn’t have a happy ending. After what he had seen in the Juk prison, nothing seemed to be having happy endings. The field hadn’t been something pleasant…he was glad to have gotten out of there. The Eventides’ perilous fight against the Wild Hunt was something that he recognized as not valiant, but rather a kind of slaughter that they knew they couldn’t avoid. He shuddered at the sight of the army and then later, the sight of Saol standing alone with his stead, Gaea without anything to back him up. He continued on through the passageway and into the next room, Mikoto at his side.

The portal spun slowly in front of them, casting off sparks into the gray floor under them. Skeletons lay scattered about, their remains dwindling as they came closer to the next floor. The boy put his hands on his hips, staring at the portal with an intense glare. Mikoto slowly pulled a katana up and flipped it up with his wrist, chuckling at the glare from Shenmock. ”No worries, we’ve got it handled,” he muttered in reassurance, moving forward, the katana in front of him held up, the end pointed at the patterns that were lain across the middle. He looked to Shenmock, who now had his hands stuffed in his pockets, a scowl on his face. ”I expect that you just want to get this over with…?” Mikoto asked thoughtfully, the slightest hint of a smile on his face. When there was silence between them, he sighed and stepped forward, planting his boot firmly on the ground and unleashing the monsters.

A dark force came from the depths of the portal. There was a knight on it, wearing dark armor. He rode on a dragon, resembling that of a rider that flew around. He wore duel swords on each side of him. His dragon roared, but not the kind of roar that someone of his level would be scared of. ”Did it really have to be something like this?” he asked, rolling his eyes before pulling out his gauntlets and dancing forward. The dragon roared again, making his character shake with sudden uneasiness. The monster roared again and the rider let his blades fly. The spell, BiAni Don, was activated by the swing of swords. The boy rose his arms as skulls and darkness rained down on him, making him wince at the pain that his character was feeling. His fingers twitched for a moment as the boy rose his arm to knock a skull away, although all it did was break a few fingers. The spell faded, giving off a dark mist that surrounded his character for a moment. His blue hair whirled about, his jacket whipping across his body.

Mikoto’s lips twitched as he muttered the spell. ”Repth,” the Heavy Blade muttered. The familiar white aura surrounded his character, seeping into his fingers and pulling the bones back together with painful cracks. He sighed and stretched, watching the Dark Rider with a close emerald eye. Mikoto stepped forward and asked a question that surprised him. ”So, what element are you aligned to, Shenmock? You took moderate damage on that, so I’m sure that you’re not Ani or Rai. So…?” The man pulled his blade back behind his back and moved forward, his katana swinging behind his back and up to the dragon’s torso, where he left a long and heavy wound there. The dragon whipped about, leaving the rider to pull two blades about. Shenmock rushed back in a whirl of Rue energy. The sudden cast of a Rue Zot should’ve answered the man’s question as the ice thorn shot up from the undergrowth, connecting with the swords. It managed to knock one out of his hand, but the other only bounced off.

”That should answer your question,” Shenmock answered, already dancing back at the sight of dark flames coming out of the dragon’s nostrils. The monster reared its head back, letting multiple black flames come forth, licking forth, though only reaching a few of his fingers. He patted them with a few flicks of his wrist and readied himself for more. The lost blade, in a flash of light, appeared back in the rider’s hand. He readied another spell, but instead, Shenmock pulled back his hand and muttered, ”Rue Kruz.” Ice crackled around his character before coming around his opponent and shooting forward. The spell, for once in his life, missed his opponent, generating a sigh from his partner. The boy frowned, the icy aura that had surrounded him moments before fading into the air. He glared at the rider, who was coming forward towards him, his blades whirling about, the dragon breathing fire, though it was only for looks at the moment.

”Let me show you how it’s done,” Mikoto said with a laugh. He came in front of the Fist Fighter, despite the flames, and rose one of his arms. ”GiRai Rom.” The spell activated instantly, a tornado of electricity crackling around the rider. The aura made the boy skid back, the level two spell’s aura seeming just about twice as strong as a level one. He grumbled and watched as the monster let out a roar as the energy swirled around them, though surprisingly enough, it didn’t land an elemental critical. Shenmock pushed off the ground and moved forward, his blue hair swirling about as he came to the side of Mikoto, watching the dragon screech one last time before it let out a burst of flames.

Both men ducked at the sight of the dark flames crackling about. The fires licked at his back, but didn’t close to burning him. He pushed himself off the ground, despite the flames that came at him, and charged forward, the nunchaku in hand. With a quiet click, the chains came and he whirled them around him, moving forward and swinging it about. Instead of going for the dragon, he moved for the rider, taking a quick jump and moving off the end of the dragon’s wings (though they were only for show). Mikoto charged at the dragon, slashing about with quick attacks, taking the dragon’s sudden distraction as an advantage for damage.

”Rai Smash!” Mikoto called, pulling his blade back and swinging it about, dealing Rai damage to the dragon. The dragon’s head whirled back to the front, roaring in pain as it spun around, smashing its body weight and bringing the Heavy Blade back into the wall. Shenmock shot forward, his fist connecting with the rider’s helmet, the nunchaku coming back and hitting at his back. The rider wasn’t blasted off the dragon, but rather, was left with a rather troubling dent in his armor. The Fist Fighter flipped forward and landed on the ground, only to find the dragon’s head in his face, inches away, nostrils flaring. Literally. The boy gave it a dull look, though was a tad terrified at its intense black eyes. The dragon pulled to the side, leaving the rider to pull his blades back in a quick motion. The boy rose his arms, but could do no more than that. The boy staggered back, his arms bleeding, though not too bad. The dragon let out a roar, only to be confronted with a violent aura, this one much stronger than many that Shenmock had seen.

The ground under the dragon seemed to burn, showing off a white circlet, one that seemed to match that of a monster portal, now that he thought about it. Runes were imprinted on the white, only to be concealed by the dragon’s body. ”Vulcan!” the man called, a scroll in hand, one that looked extremely pricey. A shape turned into the direction of the monster and fire rained down upon the monster. The spirit almost seemed to be some kind of monster, reaching out and calling upon the forces of fire. It dematerialized instants later and he was left to watch the dark rider burn away, burn to dust, dematerialize, and fall into darkness. The spell was a sight to see, one that he had actually seen before, when someone of even a higher level had cast it, though that person was barely a level higher than Mikoto.

Shenmock --> +2 Levels - +Iron Step - +Fire Dance Hat - +Firedrake Mail - +Smith's Gloves - +Fire Lizard