From: shivblade@aol.com (SHIV BLADE)
Date: 14 Jul 1999 20:00:02 EDT
"Papa, tell me a bedtime story." The young boy was all tucked in, his head upon the soft pillow. His eyes already seemed as if they would drift off into a deep sleep, with or without a story. The old man smiled, his worn cheeks wrinkling up. He had been working all day, and would love nothing more than to spend these next few precious moments with his boy. A boy it seemed he never found the time to be with. He pulled
forward the chair that he always sat in, in times like these. The cushions soft to rest his old bones, the wood strong to hold his growing weight. He held no book as he looked to the kid, his eyes falling over the lad. He put his hands up behind his head, scratching the back of his neck as he thought of something.
"A story eh?... What shall I tell tonight? Perhaps of goblins and trolls and things of the past? Perhaps of witches and monster that run through the night?" The smile grew as he watched the kid, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of the story.
"Or I know, shall I tell you the next part of the warrior's life?" The kid sat up in the bed, all thoughts of sleep gone. He loved hearing tales of the warrior. They were full of action, suspense, and of late a bit of romance. That was perhaps the only part he didn't like. "So where were we," the man asked the young kid. He knew well enough where he left off, but knew the kid always loved recalling the last story.
"Well, Jarem, really Avery, Papa... he umm.. well he was wanting to become the best warrior of all the land. He lost the Arch... Archmage tournament though. He was sad wasn't he Papa? Yes he was, and so he vowed to become better, to uphold the promise he made to Dalamar. So he waited by the cork board. Waiting for the chance to challenge the new Overlord... the evil, horrible Agrenish. Except that guy back stabbed them all and threw away the crown."
The man gave a smile, and the kid laid back down. "Is that it," raising his brow slightly.
"The kid groaned a bit and said in a low hurried breath, "And he was engaged to Casey, soon to be married." The old man smiled, and leaned back, getting comfortable as he began the story. He broke into it as he always had, the same words he had spoken many a night before.
"Now this is a tale of ages past. A time when the greatest of folks would gather and meet to test the skills, and share the comfort of friends. And this tale is about a young kid, not to much older than you in fact. Avery was one of the best in the land for sure, yet his life was anything but easy......
The Cycle of Change ((Amnesia SL))
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From: shivblade@aol.com (SHIV BLADE)
Date: 14 Jul 1999 20:06:17 EDT
Jarem left the arena that night in a rush. He was upset, mad, pissed as hell. His blind rage tore through the streets, as he looked for a way to calm himself. He paused in the middle of one of the streets, his chest heaving in and out. He was so frustrated, that he had run out of breath. He bent over and just stared at the ground, thinking over the last couple days.
Jarem didn't understand any of this really. He was only the outlet for a frustration that stirred from deep within. And this frustration was Jarem, as Jarem was Avery. He stood up and threw his arms out, leaning back and staring up at the summer night. The yell came from deep within, the place where Avery was at. It lasted for hours, at least to him. In truth it was over within a short time. He had let it all out with the yell. He knew he couldn't
stop it. Again he had been shield from his promise.
He needed a drink, he needed to relax. He knew of a bar just around the corner, and quickly walked to it. The stares had stopped, for it wasn't everyday one saw a kid scream in the middle of the street. Jarem arrived at the Bloody Fist in a matter of moments. A local bar it was a little lower in class than the Red Dragon Inn. It was more for the underclass, but Jarem sure as hell wasn't going to the Red Dragon on this night. He had to get away from
that place.
He pushed through the doors, looking around. There wasn't a lot of people here this night, it was the middle of the week after all. A group of merchants, or so they looked were at one table, and some locals were scattered around. The kid walked in and moved over to one of the bar stools. Tossing his hood off, he sat down, lifting his feet up onto a foot rest connected to the bar. The scowl was still upon his face as he sat there head in hands.
Mumbling a bit as he tried to figure out what he had done to deserve this. Had he forsaken the gods? Had he pissed someone off? His whole life had been nothing but trouble. It followed him. His no longer knew his brother, he no longer had a family. He had trained his whole life. Trained for survival.
"Whatcha drinking tonight?"
His thoughts were interrupted by the soft voice. He looked up at the person who distracted him, not understanding the words. The young bar lass stood there waiting to get him a drink. Her round face in a smile as she looked upon Jarem. She was only a few years older if that. Probably in her lower twenties he would guess. Again she spoke.
"Cutie, I asked ya what ya wanted to drink." She could see he hadn't heard her the first time. She leaned back almost accenting her body, as she tried her best to show it off.
"Water. Water will be fine" Jarem never drank. A rule of his. Never let the body control the master. Always be in control. A lesson he valued in life. His eyes looked into hers for a moment as she parted her lips to speak.
"Ya sure Lisa...." a quick smile, " ya sure she cant... that ya don't want anything else... from .. me?" Yet, even as she finished the last word another voice came out. A louder voice, a demanding voice.
"Heya wench.. get the pretty ass of yours over here, and give me want I want." The girls smile turned into a slight frown, as the briefest of sighs came out. Jarem turned ever so slightly, as he looked over his shoulder to the voice. The whites in his eyes flashing over the black cloak as he looked out. It was the group of merchants at one of the tables. Well, some of them looked like farmers. Yet, he knew some where merchants by there clothes.
There was seven of them, and they had been here for a while. The empty glasses upon there table, and loud drunken voices were the true signs of that.
Jarem looked up briefly to the girl, and then twisted around in his chair. Leaning back he put his elbows on the bar and looked to the men. Cocking his head to one side as he often did, he just watched them. It wasn't to long before one of them noticed, and tapped the arm of the man next to him. Soon all fourteen eyes were on him, as one turned around to get up. The girl just slide of around the bar. She had seen this before, it happened all the
time around this bar. Although Jarem didn't notice, a young lad ran out of the bar, off to fetch some help for what was to come.
Date: 14 Jul 1999 20:06:17 EDT
Jarem left the arena that night in a rush. He was upset, mad, pissed as hell. His blind rage tore through the streets, as he looked for a way to calm himself. He paused in the middle of one of the streets, his chest heaving in and out. He was so frustrated, that he had run out of breath. He bent over and just stared at the ground, thinking over the last couple days.
Jarem didn't understand any of this really. He was only the outlet for a frustration that stirred from deep within. And this frustration was Jarem, as Jarem was Avery. He stood up and threw his arms out, leaning back and staring up at the summer night. The yell came from deep within, the place where Avery was at. It lasted for hours, at least to him. In truth it was over within a short time. He had let it all out with the yell. He knew he couldn't
stop it. Again he had been shield from his promise.
He needed a drink, he needed to relax. He knew of a bar just around the corner, and quickly walked to it. The stares had stopped, for it wasn't everyday one saw a kid scream in the middle of the street. Jarem arrived at the Bloody Fist in a matter of moments. A local bar it was a little lower in class than the Red Dragon Inn. It was more for the underclass, but Jarem sure as hell wasn't going to the Red Dragon on this night. He had to get away from
that place.
He pushed through the doors, looking around. There wasn't a lot of people here this night, it was the middle of the week after all. A group of merchants, or so they looked were at one table, and some locals were scattered around. The kid walked in and moved over to one of the bar stools. Tossing his hood off, he sat down, lifting his feet up onto a foot rest connected to the bar. The scowl was still upon his face as he sat there head in hands.
Mumbling a bit as he tried to figure out what he had done to deserve this. Had he forsaken the gods? Had he pissed someone off? His whole life had been nothing but trouble. It followed him. His no longer knew his brother, he no longer had a family. He had trained his whole life. Trained for survival.
"Whatcha drinking tonight?"
His thoughts were interrupted by the soft voice. He looked up at the person who distracted him, not understanding the words. The young bar lass stood there waiting to get him a drink. Her round face in a smile as she looked upon Jarem. She was only a few years older if that. Probably in her lower twenties he would guess. Again she spoke.
"Cutie, I asked ya what ya wanted to drink." She could see he hadn't heard her the first time. She leaned back almost accenting her body, as she tried her best to show it off.
"Water. Water will be fine" Jarem never drank. A rule of his. Never let the body control the master. Always be in control. A lesson he valued in life. His eyes looked into hers for a moment as she parted her lips to speak.
"Ya sure Lisa...." a quick smile, " ya sure she cant... that ya don't want anything else... from .. me?" Yet, even as she finished the last word another voice came out. A louder voice, a demanding voice.
"Heya wench.. get the pretty ass of yours over here, and give me want I want." The girls smile turned into a slight frown, as the briefest of sighs came out. Jarem turned ever so slightly, as he looked over his shoulder to the voice. The whites in his eyes flashing over the black cloak as he looked out. It was the group of merchants at one of the tables. Well, some of them looked like farmers. Yet, he knew some where merchants by there clothes.
There was seven of them, and they had been here for a while. The empty glasses upon there table, and loud drunken voices were the true signs of that.
Jarem looked up briefly to the girl, and then twisted around in his chair. Leaning back he put his elbows on the bar and looked to the men. Cocking his head to one side as he often did, he just watched them. It wasn't to long before one of them noticed, and tapped the arm of the man next to him. Soon all fourteen eyes were on him, as one turned around to get up. The girl just slide of around the bar. She had seen this before, it happened all the
time around this bar. Although Jarem didn't notice, a young lad ran out of the bar, off to fetch some help for what was to come.
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From: shivblade@aol.com (SHIV BLADE)
Date: 14 Jul 1999 20:10:00 EDT
"You looking at something Junior?" The other men just roared in laughter, slapping the table. The man moved forward a bit more. He wasn't to big, one of the merchants. He was taller than Jarem, but then again many were. Jarem stood up as the man approach closer. His eyes flashing a bit. In his soft voice he spoke out.
"I find it amazing how you call this young girl a wench." Rubbing his chin a bit, he looked down, and then back up to the man. "Ya see, it makes me curious. What do you call your Mother?" The men at the table just broke out again laughing. Other patrons moved closer to the confrontation.
"You should watch your mouth kid. Ya wouldn' want a big guy like me to bust it open for you." The man folded his hands over his chest. He was now standing right in front of Jarem, he just stood there watching. Had this man known who Jarem was, he probably wouldn't have said those words. Had Jarem of thought out the situation a bit he probably would have sat back down.
As it is, he was young, and his downfall was his pride. He was always quick to react, always quick to beat the opposition. This is what made him one of the best. He had proven himself in the Arenas. He was one of the best with the Swords. The bright future laid before him. He was one of the best fist fighters this town knew. The Opal around his neck was proof of that. His house mate Jesse, had taught him a lot. Just being able to watch him. His
other house mate Jeff, the man who took him in, had taught him with the sword. But perhaps his best part was his ability to think. That is what lead him to being one of the best at battle magic. He paid his dues upon the island, and for them, had become one of the best. Yes, Jarem was one of the best fighters this town had ever seen. He had proved his worth. For many have bragged, and many have talked. Jarem just walked.. he let his actions do the
talking. There were few who had achieved what he had. Yet, he wasn't invincible. He had his flaws. He was young, and stubborn. He was still nieve to the world. Yet Jarem was the warrior essence of Avery. He was the graceful power behind the moves. He was the fighter within. Nothing more. And as he stood there, the smile came to his lips. The fun was about to begin....
Date: 14 Jul 1999 20:10:00 EDT
"You looking at something Junior?" The other men just roared in laughter, slapping the table. The man moved forward a bit more. He wasn't to big, one of the merchants. He was taller than Jarem, but then again many were. Jarem stood up as the man approach closer. His eyes flashing a bit. In his soft voice he spoke out.
"I find it amazing how you call this young girl a wench." Rubbing his chin a bit, he looked down, and then back up to the man. "Ya see, it makes me curious. What do you call your Mother?" The men at the table just broke out again laughing. Other patrons moved closer to the confrontation.
"You should watch your mouth kid. Ya wouldn' want a big guy like me to bust it open for you." The man folded his hands over his chest. He was now standing right in front of Jarem, he just stood there watching. Had this man known who Jarem was, he probably wouldn't have said those words. Had Jarem of thought out the situation a bit he probably would have sat back down.
As it is, he was young, and his downfall was his pride. He was always quick to react, always quick to beat the opposition. This is what made him one of the best. He had proven himself in the Arenas. He was one of the best with the Swords. The bright future laid before him. He was one of the best fist fighters this town knew. The Opal around his neck was proof of that. His house mate Jesse, had taught him a lot. Just being able to watch him. His
other house mate Jeff, the man who took him in, had taught him with the sword. But perhaps his best part was his ability to think. That is what lead him to being one of the best at battle magic. He paid his dues upon the island, and for them, had become one of the best. Yes, Jarem was one of the best fighters this town had ever seen. He had proved his worth. For many have bragged, and many have talked. Jarem just walked.. he let his actions do the
talking. There were few who had achieved what he had. Yet, he wasn't invincible. He had his flaws. He was young, and stubborn. He was still nieve to the world. Yet Jarem was the warrior essence of Avery. He was the graceful power behind the moves. He was the fighter within. Nothing more. And as he stood there, the smile came to his lips. The fun was about to begin....
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From: shivblade@aol.com (SHIV BLADE)
Date: 14 Jul 1999 20:19:03 EDT
His fist flew up quickly not allowing the man to react. His arms were folded, and even as he tried to move them he was to slow. For he was not a fighter, he was only a drunk merchant. His friends were only drunk farmers, and friends. There power was within there numbers. Yet only one stood here now. The fist hammered into the man's nose, bringing with it the power of a brick crashing into a glass
window. The crush sent the man back, the white lights flashing in his eyes, as he fought back the sting. He went crashing into one of the tables, falling back onto his back. His gang was quick to react, and soon they started coming.
The first man threw a punch forward, but in his drunken shape it had nothing to it. It was easy for Jarem to arch his back, almost as if to limbo, and catch the arm. He spun with the body, using the torque, and momentum to throw him into the bar. The man hit hard, and flipped right up and over, landing with a crush behind it. Jarem kept the spin up as he lifted into the spinkick. His right foot snapped around at the ribs of the next man. Pulling his
leg through the hook kick caught him squarely, and doubled him over. The timing was just right to catch him, but his spin was off. It sent him a bit off balance as he moved to set his foot down. Perhaps it was good, as the blow that came would have been a lot worse.
He set the foot, down and had to lean over to catch himself. The man flew in from his blind side, the chair raised up over the shoulder. He swung it hard, aiming for Jarem's head, and as it was, because he had to bend over the chair smashed into his upper arm. The pieces of wood shattered all around them, as the sting ran straight down his left side. He stumbled back from the blow, not having time to brace, and just spun around swinging out to catch
the man. The hit landed into the mans solar plexus, as he pulled back. Ignoring the pain, as he had to do ever day within the ring, he brought the left elbow around in a strike. The elbow chop crashed right across the mans jaw, spinning him around like a top. He fell to the ground instantly, and just slumped over.
The next blow came from below. The man had literally thrown himself into Jarem's legs, knocking him down. His hands went out to brace the fall, but he still ended up landing hard. His legs were tied up by the mans arms, as he fought to move. It was the quick thought that saved him. For all that Jarem needed to cast the most simple of spells was just a thought. As the foot came down from another man, it went straight at his head. And then it went
straight into the ground, as he kicked the floor with a loud thud. Jarem had simply displaced away. A trick done ever day upon the island. As, he reappeared he was on top of the bar. The man who tried to kick him, had little time to look up at him. Jarem's foot flew out, and the round kick crushed into the mans temple, as he dropped to the floor.
Jarem sat and watched the others for a moment. He saw the first guy stand back up from the broken table. He watched the other guy who tackled him get up quickly too. The others had stood up already, but something was odd. Just as he figured it out, it hit him. The man grabbed his leg from behind, holding onto the ankle. He had forgotten about the one behind the bar, the one he had flipped over. This was the moment they all needed to rush forward.
Jarem never panicked though. Again the thought came, and the spell was cast. The fear touch ran through his body, and though his leg. And in a moment of sheer terror the man let go. He clutched his head, and just stared out. The nightmares of the inner heart came forth to attack him, as he fell back onto the ground. The shrieking scream rang out as he fought to control his mind.
Jarem tumbled off the bar rolling quickly, as he side stepped over to the edge, and then onto the ground. His moves were graceful, and were the result of years of practice. There were only four left, and they stepped forward slowly. It would have been so easy to let loose the awesome power of the nether ray, but he would surely destroy the building. One man moved out a bit closer, and quickly withdrew a knife. Holding it out, still ten yards away.
He pulled his arm back, and flipped the knife over to grab the blade. He was about to throw it, as Jarem just watched. He called forth the first spell he could think off. With his back to the door, he said the quick word, and slashed his finger out. The Artic wind blew straight through the door, shattering it into a thousand pieces. It rushed forward even as the knife flew at him, the wind blew past Jarem, going straight around his body, as if he
were a rock in a stream. When it met the thrown knife it pushed past. The knife stayed there suspended in the air, frozen in time. Much like with the wizard blades, the cold wind had stopped the knife dead. The wind carried on and blew straight out one of the far windows. The glass exploded, and with that it left.
Jarem sat with his head cocked to the side. The men paused. They knew to stop, but couldn't. This was a kid after all. A kid was kicking them around. The three men in the back all withdrew swords. They were fed up. Had, had enough. They didn't care anymore. They would kill. The other man just rushed forward as he did so, throwing his body behind the punch. Jarem took this all in at once, and thought of an answer. He needed a weapon. Anything. And he
found what he needed off to the side. In a move of delicate grace, he spun into a twirl. His cloak sliding off as he did. In the blinding twirl, he moved the cloak to wrap around the guys thrown out arm. Twisting and catching, he snared the man, and removed his cloak at the same time. He continued the spin, which brought the man off balance, and threw him into the wall. His arm had snapped, from the hard spin, as he fell to the floor.
Jarem's twist ended by what he needed. With a quick flip of the foot, he kicked the broom up into his hands. It was a large push broom, and with a quick movement he broke the brush part of it off. He held the self made staff in his arms as the rest of the men came rushing forward.
He easily dropped below the first cut. He knew from experience that people who don't know how to fight go for the head. So the duck was far below the overhead swing. He shuffled up and forward quickly, jamming the staff into the man's gut. As he doubled over, Jarem brought the other end up in a fast twirl and just took it straight into the head. It sent the man flying backwards, and to the floor. With a fast twirl he parried the fast jab of the next
attack. Sliding to the side he watched the last two men. He feinted several advances and got some room to move around. Throwing out the staff, one man fell back to avoided it. Jarem quickly said the words, and before the man could react he was on the ground. His head was burning. Not physically, but mentally. The mind whip was a dangerous spell, but when it found its way through could be deadly. He twitched on the ground, just holding onto his head.
Jarem's eyes strayed a bit to long though to cast the spell, as the last guy slammed an elbow into Jarem's head. It sent him straight into the wall where he hit it hard, head first. Jarem was winded from the tough battle, and the blow caught him good. Yet, it was the wall that knocked him out. And his body fell straight to the floor. The man spat on him, and raised his blade to finish the work.
Yet, the work was never finished. For the lad that ran out before this all started returned now. And with him were the town guards. The filed in through the now non existent door. They arrived just in time to halt the man, and grab him to keep him from him from the kill. Jarem knew nothing of this... nothing of what was to come.
Date: 14 Jul 1999 20:19:03 EDT
His fist flew up quickly not allowing the man to react. His arms were folded, and even as he tried to move them he was to slow. For he was not a fighter, he was only a drunk merchant. His friends were only drunk farmers, and friends. There power was within there numbers. Yet only one stood here now. The fist hammered into the man's nose, bringing with it the power of a brick crashing into a glass
window. The crush sent the man back, the white lights flashing in his eyes, as he fought back the sting. He went crashing into one of the tables, falling back onto his back. His gang was quick to react, and soon they started coming.
The first man threw a punch forward, but in his drunken shape it had nothing to it. It was easy for Jarem to arch his back, almost as if to limbo, and catch the arm. He spun with the body, using the torque, and momentum to throw him into the bar. The man hit hard, and flipped right up and over, landing with a crush behind it. Jarem kept the spin up as he lifted into the spinkick. His right foot snapped around at the ribs of the next man. Pulling his
leg through the hook kick caught him squarely, and doubled him over. The timing was just right to catch him, but his spin was off. It sent him a bit off balance as he moved to set his foot down. Perhaps it was good, as the blow that came would have been a lot worse.
He set the foot, down and had to lean over to catch himself. The man flew in from his blind side, the chair raised up over the shoulder. He swung it hard, aiming for Jarem's head, and as it was, because he had to bend over the chair smashed into his upper arm. The pieces of wood shattered all around them, as the sting ran straight down his left side. He stumbled back from the blow, not having time to brace, and just spun around swinging out to catch
the man. The hit landed into the mans solar plexus, as he pulled back. Ignoring the pain, as he had to do ever day within the ring, he brought the left elbow around in a strike. The elbow chop crashed right across the mans jaw, spinning him around like a top. He fell to the ground instantly, and just slumped over.
The next blow came from below. The man had literally thrown himself into Jarem's legs, knocking him down. His hands went out to brace the fall, but he still ended up landing hard. His legs were tied up by the mans arms, as he fought to move. It was the quick thought that saved him. For all that Jarem needed to cast the most simple of spells was just a thought. As the foot came down from another man, it went straight at his head. And then it went
straight into the ground, as he kicked the floor with a loud thud. Jarem had simply displaced away. A trick done ever day upon the island. As, he reappeared he was on top of the bar. The man who tried to kick him, had little time to look up at him. Jarem's foot flew out, and the round kick crushed into the mans temple, as he dropped to the floor.
Jarem sat and watched the others for a moment. He saw the first guy stand back up from the broken table. He watched the other guy who tackled him get up quickly too. The others had stood up already, but something was odd. Just as he figured it out, it hit him. The man grabbed his leg from behind, holding onto the ankle. He had forgotten about the one behind the bar, the one he had flipped over. This was the moment they all needed to rush forward.
Jarem never panicked though. Again the thought came, and the spell was cast. The fear touch ran through his body, and though his leg. And in a moment of sheer terror the man let go. He clutched his head, and just stared out. The nightmares of the inner heart came forth to attack him, as he fell back onto the ground. The shrieking scream rang out as he fought to control his mind.
Jarem tumbled off the bar rolling quickly, as he side stepped over to the edge, and then onto the ground. His moves were graceful, and were the result of years of practice. There were only four left, and they stepped forward slowly. It would have been so easy to let loose the awesome power of the nether ray, but he would surely destroy the building. One man moved out a bit closer, and quickly withdrew a knife. Holding it out, still ten yards away.
He pulled his arm back, and flipped the knife over to grab the blade. He was about to throw it, as Jarem just watched. He called forth the first spell he could think off. With his back to the door, he said the quick word, and slashed his finger out. The Artic wind blew straight through the door, shattering it into a thousand pieces. It rushed forward even as the knife flew at him, the wind blew past Jarem, going straight around his body, as if he
were a rock in a stream. When it met the thrown knife it pushed past. The knife stayed there suspended in the air, frozen in time. Much like with the wizard blades, the cold wind had stopped the knife dead. The wind carried on and blew straight out one of the far windows. The glass exploded, and with that it left.
Jarem sat with his head cocked to the side. The men paused. They knew to stop, but couldn't. This was a kid after all. A kid was kicking them around. The three men in the back all withdrew swords. They were fed up. Had, had enough. They didn't care anymore. They would kill. The other man just rushed forward as he did so, throwing his body behind the punch. Jarem took this all in at once, and thought of an answer. He needed a weapon. Anything. And he
found what he needed off to the side. In a move of delicate grace, he spun into a twirl. His cloak sliding off as he did. In the blinding twirl, he moved the cloak to wrap around the guys thrown out arm. Twisting and catching, he snared the man, and removed his cloak at the same time. He continued the spin, which brought the man off balance, and threw him into the wall. His arm had snapped, from the hard spin, as he fell to the floor.
Jarem's twist ended by what he needed. With a quick flip of the foot, he kicked the broom up into his hands. It was a large push broom, and with a quick movement he broke the brush part of it off. He held the self made staff in his arms as the rest of the men came rushing forward.
He easily dropped below the first cut. He knew from experience that people who don't know how to fight go for the head. So the duck was far below the overhead swing. He shuffled up and forward quickly, jamming the staff into the man's gut. As he doubled over, Jarem brought the other end up in a fast twirl and just took it straight into the head. It sent the man flying backwards, and to the floor. With a fast twirl he parried the fast jab of the next
attack. Sliding to the side he watched the last two men. He feinted several advances and got some room to move around. Throwing out the staff, one man fell back to avoided it. Jarem quickly said the words, and before the man could react he was on the ground. His head was burning. Not physically, but mentally. The mind whip was a dangerous spell, but when it found its way through could be deadly. He twitched on the ground, just holding onto his head.
Jarem's eyes strayed a bit to long though to cast the spell, as the last guy slammed an elbow into Jarem's head. It sent him straight into the wall where he hit it hard, head first. Jarem was winded from the tough battle, and the blow caught him good. Yet, it was the wall that knocked him out. And his body fell straight to the floor. The man spat on him, and raised his blade to finish the work.
Yet, the work was never finished. For the lad that ran out before this all started returned now. And with him were the town guards. The filed in through the now non existent door. They arrived just in time to halt the man, and grab him to keep him from him from the kill. Jarem knew nothing of this... nothing of what was to come.
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From: shivblade@aol.com (SHIV BLADE)
Date: 14 Jul 1999 20:22:21 EDT
"Find out his name." The captain ordered the psionist over to the cell. It had taken them a couple hours to sort the bodies out, and now they had brought Jarem back to a cell. He was out cold still, his eye swollen shut as he laid upon the cold stone floor. The psionist main reason for being there was to reach within the mind to get the right information. As he moved forward he kneeled next to the body.
Going into his trace he laid a hand upon Jarem and just waited.
His mind became flooded with the most confusing thoughts... Avery.. Alex.. Jarem... All three names flashed through the mans head, and it was truly something he never experienced. Just then the body went into convulsions. Jarem started seizing up, as he fought for control. The man kept his hand there, just watching, not knowing what to do. Jarem was going through what he had only done twice before. Once when he transformed into Alex. Once when he
changed into Jarem. His eyes fluttered fast, and the battle within had begun. It was several minutes before it all stopped. His body laid still, his eyes shut. The man slumped over again and thought.
"Avery Shiv Blade. That is this young lads name." He paused as he stood up, and faced the captain. "He has been through much. It would seem he has a reaction to psionics. It had jumbled his brain up. suppressed his true form. As it happened this time it reversed around. His name is Avery Shiv Blade, and he is innocent of all charges. He only fought to protect a girl. It would seem he is part of the dueling arenas."
The captain paused, and thought it over a bit. "That's right! That's where I saw him. Hell I saw this kid at the last brawl I went to. It was that one Fist tournament to find a champion. Damn, as I recalled he was knocked out.. but hell, that was over three months ago. I'll have it checked out and if its true we will let him go when he comes to." With that both men left to go check on some others. Avery laid there, his mind now free from the cell
within. He knew nothing of the past three months. He had vague visions... of love, of a girl, and of Firestar. His body went into its healing mode as he slept. Yet, it would be a long time before his eye, or heart would heal.....
The old man had finished the story, and stood up. The boy had drifted off to sleep with the last of the words. He clutched the teddy bear tight, as a smile wrapped around his face. His dreams carried him off into the clouds, where he two was a warrior. The man moves silently out of the room, and blew out the candle light. his last words were said in the softest of breaths...
"Sweet dreams, my little Warrior..."
Date: 14 Jul 1999 20:22:21 EDT
"Find out his name." The captain ordered the psionist over to the cell. It had taken them a couple hours to sort the bodies out, and now they had brought Jarem back to a cell. He was out cold still, his eye swollen shut as he laid upon the cold stone floor. The psionist main reason for being there was to reach within the mind to get the right information. As he moved forward he kneeled next to the body.
Going into his trace he laid a hand upon Jarem and just waited.
His mind became flooded with the most confusing thoughts... Avery.. Alex.. Jarem... All three names flashed through the mans head, and it was truly something he never experienced. Just then the body went into convulsions. Jarem started seizing up, as he fought for control. The man kept his hand there, just watching, not knowing what to do. Jarem was going through what he had only done twice before. Once when he transformed into Alex. Once when he
changed into Jarem. His eyes fluttered fast, and the battle within had begun. It was several minutes before it all stopped. His body laid still, his eyes shut. The man slumped over again and thought.
"Avery Shiv Blade. That is this young lads name." He paused as he stood up, and faced the captain. "He has been through much. It would seem he has a reaction to psionics. It had jumbled his brain up. suppressed his true form. As it happened this time it reversed around. His name is Avery Shiv Blade, and he is innocent of all charges. He only fought to protect a girl. It would seem he is part of the dueling arenas."
The captain paused, and thought it over a bit. "That's right! That's where I saw him. Hell I saw this kid at the last brawl I went to. It was that one Fist tournament to find a champion. Damn, as I recalled he was knocked out.. but hell, that was over three months ago. I'll have it checked out and if its true we will let him go when he comes to." With that both men left to go check on some others. Avery laid there, his mind now free from the cell
within. He knew nothing of the past three months. He had vague visions... of love, of a girl, and of Firestar. His body went into its healing mode as he slept. Yet, it would be a long time before his eye, or heart would heal.....
The old man had finished the story, and stood up. The boy had drifted off to sleep with the last of the words. He clutched the teddy bear tight, as a smile wrapped around his face. His dreams carried him off into the clouds, where he two was a warrior. The man moves silently out of the room, and blew out the candle light. his last words were said in the softest of breaths...
"Sweet dreams, my little Warrior..."