From: lordgunthr@aol.com (LordGunthr)
Date: 25 Aug 1999 20:58:16 EDT
Early in the afternoon, Gunthar headed to the arena checking up on the daily events and future happenings. One post quickly caught his eye, he read it over, then over once more. As his anger envelops him, his eyes flash a deep crimson. The muscles through out his body begin to spasm, his mind almost losing control, almost. He turns, sprinting from the board and into the damp night's air. The moon hidden behind dark clouds,
only a faint glimmer shows every few moments from between. He headed home, forcing himself to act natural in front of Skye. He gathered a few things, and kissed her farewell, speaking for her to not wait up for him this night.
He began his search for the man who crossed the thin line with his actions in his eyes. A short time into his ride, it began to rain heavily, the air turned to a bone chilling temperature. Though this does not deter him, his determination to find this man drives him forward. What he will do when finding this man he knows not.
He rode late into the night, searching for the man, though finding nothing. Exhaustion began to slow him, as well as the horse, however he continued to ride. He was determined to find this man before he escaped the area, or even RhyDin for that matter. Finally, as he reached the outermost skirts of town, he spotted a dark figure in the distance. As he neared he tried to make out the facial features, though in the dim light it was to hard to tell.
Finally, only feet away, he knew... It was Methous. He dismounted from his horse, his eyes flaring up once more into a deep crimson, the soft hazel being drowned out. As he hit the ground the sound of his sword bit through the moist air. He dropped the tip low, stepping forward. He tried to find his voice several times, but couldn't. He turned his back momentarily, gathering his thoughts before once more facing the man.
TBC
To live or Die (SL, Not a post!!!!!)
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From: lordgunthr@aol.com (LordGunthr)
Date: 25 Aug 1999 21:01:05 EDT
Methous's face was calm, showing no emotion, no hint of sorrow, nor contentment. He stood in a simple black cloak, his sword resting at his side. His boots and bottom hem of his cloak quite muddy, as he must have walked this great distance. His breathing was soft as he peered at Gunthar, no words, still no emotions. Stepping forward he spoke in a soft tone.
"Gunthar..."
Before he could continue, Gunthar's blade flashed through the air, the steel glinting off in the dwindling light. Though the blade finds itself wide of the mark, perhaps intentionally. The man does not even flinch, holding his ground, no return blow is offered. Again he continued, speaking in a bit louder tone now.
"Gunthar, let me speak."
Gunthar's breath was choppy, his eyes seemingly radiating out the deep crimson color. Gunthar did not reply, though his step back spoke that he wished Methous to speak. His blade still held in a threatening position, though no offense was taken.
"Gunthar, I had to. What you asked of me is something I cannot give. Jonalyn is a wench, you can't ask me to apologize for something I am not sorry for."
Gunthar's face contorts slightly, his nose wrinkles as a copper toned brow lifts. A raspy voice bites through the air, the tone cold as the night's air. A soft sprinkle of water once more begins to fall from the sky, drenching each man.
"NO! I will not hear it! What you did...was like slapping me in the face, you could have simply held your tongue, but instead you took my letter that was written in all honesty, including the threats, and used it to further insult Jonalyn!"
Methous's face now shows a hint of anger, Gunthar's harsh words digging into his short fused mind. He now speaks between grit teeth, his eyes filling with anger as he speaks.
"You betrayed me Gunthar, we were friends, and you stabbed me in the back. You wrote words rubbing my name in the dirt, all the while claiming to be my friend."
As Methous's anger shows, it ignites Gunthar's once more, he steps forward, bringing the blade's tip up to waist high, speaking in a tone of rage. The bitterness of his words clearly noticed.
"Damn it Methous! You betrayed yourself by destroying the ring. The one nobody felt you deserved. The one, though I was upset with the challenge, that I told you that you earned. The one that I said if worn with honor, could ignite the last chance to reclaim dignity in others eyes, but no, you had to destroy it. Again you let that pitiful man's words control you!"
This time it wasn't Gunthar who lashed out with steel, but Methous, Gunthar's blade lifting to meet the powerful attack which sent him back staggering. Though there was again no follow through as Methous stayed back. Methous voice again lifts a notch, now almost a full out shout.
"Don't ever insult me Gunthar! Or I promise you I will disembowel you before you even know what happened!"
With that Gunthar knew, only one of them would stand living after this encounter. He grit his teeth, speaking only once more, his tone barely able to be heard. Even in the quiet nights air.
"I am sorry Methous, may God take mercy on your soul."
Date: 25 Aug 1999 21:01:05 EDT
Methous's face was calm, showing no emotion, no hint of sorrow, nor contentment. He stood in a simple black cloak, his sword resting at his side. His boots and bottom hem of his cloak quite muddy, as he must have walked this great distance. His breathing was soft as he peered at Gunthar, no words, still no emotions. Stepping forward he spoke in a soft tone.
"Gunthar..."
Before he could continue, Gunthar's blade flashed through the air, the steel glinting off in the dwindling light. Though the blade finds itself wide of the mark, perhaps intentionally. The man does not even flinch, holding his ground, no return blow is offered. Again he continued, speaking in a bit louder tone now.
"Gunthar, let me speak."
Gunthar's breath was choppy, his eyes seemingly radiating out the deep crimson color. Gunthar did not reply, though his step back spoke that he wished Methous to speak. His blade still held in a threatening position, though no offense was taken.
"Gunthar, I had to. What you asked of me is something I cannot give. Jonalyn is a wench, you can't ask me to apologize for something I am not sorry for."
Gunthar's face contorts slightly, his nose wrinkles as a copper toned brow lifts. A raspy voice bites through the air, the tone cold as the night's air. A soft sprinkle of water once more begins to fall from the sky, drenching each man.
"NO! I will not hear it! What you did...was like slapping me in the face, you could have simply held your tongue, but instead you took my letter that was written in all honesty, including the threats, and used it to further insult Jonalyn!"
Methous's face now shows a hint of anger, Gunthar's harsh words digging into his short fused mind. He now speaks between grit teeth, his eyes filling with anger as he speaks.
"You betrayed me Gunthar, we were friends, and you stabbed me in the back. You wrote words rubbing my name in the dirt, all the while claiming to be my friend."
As Methous's anger shows, it ignites Gunthar's once more, he steps forward, bringing the blade's tip up to waist high, speaking in a tone of rage. The bitterness of his words clearly noticed.
"Damn it Methous! You betrayed yourself by destroying the ring. The one nobody felt you deserved. The one, though I was upset with the challenge, that I told you that you earned. The one that I said if worn with honor, could ignite the last chance to reclaim dignity in others eyes, but no, you had to destroy it. Again you let that pitiful man's words control you!"
This time it wasn't Gunthar who lashed out with steel, but Methous, Gunthar's blade lifting to meet the powerful attack which sent him back staggering. Though there was again no follow through as Methous stayed back. Methous voice again lifts a notch, now almost a full out shout.
"Don't ever insult me Gunthar! Or I promise you I will disembowel you before you even know what happened!"
With that Gunthar knew, only one of them would stand living after this encounter. He grit his teeth, speaking only once more, his tone barely able to be heard. Even in the quiet nights air.
"I am sorry Methous, may God take mercy on your soul."
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From: lordgunthr@aol.com (LordGunthr)
Date: 25 Aug 1999 21:03:18 EDT
With that he lunged forth, the tip of his blade on course with the man's midsection, though again the blade missed it's mark as Methous quickly stepped to the side. Gunthar's momentum carried him forward, landing him on his stomach on the wet, slippery, ground. Quickly he rolled and found his feet, the fight now stood, they slowly circled each other. BANG...lightning could be seen in the distance, light danced off of each
man's wet skin and clothes. Methous's muscles seemed to almost glow to Gunthar in the flash of light. Swallowing Gunthar again stepped forward, the steel blades meeting one another with a distinct ring in the night's air. Each man struggled against the other's strength, neither ever clearly having an advantage over the other. It was all happening so fast, as if in a dream... After what seemed ages Gunthar's body began to weaken. He began cramping and
could barely lift his blade to ward off the man's raining blows. Gunthar found himself growing weaker by each passing moment, finally a blow by Methous sent his sword from the grips of his hand, as he collapsed upon the wet ground. A soft pour of rain still falling from the sky. Blood washed over his face, his chest, his arms, his legs all bore the marks of the fight...and the end grew nearer. He knew he lost, this was the end, this was how he was to
die. As blackness began to fill his eyes, he could hear what he thought was the sound of an approaching horse. He strained himself to remain consciousness, but it was a losing battle. He could faintly here a voice in the distance, a familiar voice, the voice of whom some say to be his brother. He caught site of his eyes, and even in the distance the crimson eyes could be seen. At that moment is when it all went blank. Darkness filled his mind...his
last thoughts of his brother, and thinking it was all a dream, though he knew Methous would finish him...he knew in the back of his mind it was over.
Date: 25 Aug 1999 21:03:18 EDT
With that he lunged forth, the tip of his blade on course with the man's midsection, though again the blade missed it's mark as Methous quickly stepped to the side. Gunthar's momentum carried him forward, landing him on his stomach on the wet, slippery, ground. Quickly he rolled and found his feet, the fight now stood, they slowly circled each other. BANG...lightning could be seen in the distance, light danced off of each
man's wet skin and clothes. Methous's muscles seemed to almost glow to Gunthar in the flash of light. Swallowing Gunthar again stepped forward, the steel blades meeting one another with a distinct ring in the night's air. Each man struggled against the other's strength, neither ever clearly having an advantage over the other. It was all happening so fast, as if in a dream... After what seemed ages Gunthar's body began to weaken. He began cramping and
could barely lift his blade to ward off the man's raining blows. Gunthar found himself growing weaker by each passing moment, finally a blow by Methous sent his sword from the grips of his hand, as he collapsed upon the wet ground. A soft pour of rain still falling from the sky. Blood washed over his face, his chest, his arms, his legs all bore the marks of the fight...and the end grew nearer. He knew he lost, this was the end, this was how he was to
die. As blackness began to fill his eyes, he could hear what he thought was the sound of an approaching horse. He strained himself to remain consciousness, but it was a losing battle. He could faintly here a voice in the distance, a familiar voice, the voice of whom some say to be his brother. He caught site of his eyes, and even in the distance the crimson eyes could be seen. At that moment is when it all went blank. Darkness filled his mind...his
last thoughts of his brother, and thinking it was all a dream, though he knew Methous would finish him...he knew in the back of his mind it was over.
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From: lordgunthr@aol.com (LordGunthr)
Date: 25 Aug 1999 21:06:24 EDT
When he awoke, his head was pounding, he leaned forward, his body immediately feeling the results of the previous night's happenings. The sun was up, it was nearly noon. He felt himself over, still unsure if he was alive. No, he couldn't be... He was knocked out, Methous was about to finish him off. Who was that man who was approaching, could it have been his brother? He slowly stood, his clothes completely ruined. His
chest bore wounds, along with his shoulders and legs. Deep gashes they were, he was lucky he hadn't bled to death.
Then his eyes took in the surroundings, having to close them for a long moment to regain focus. The scene around him was horrid, blood coated the ground everywhere he looked, his stallion was seen a few hundred yards away, grazing over some grass. Then he took sight of the body...he approached, the man lay face down in the mud, covered in blood. The wounds he carried made Gunthar's seem like cat scratches. His body was thrashed, he turned him over,
his face was barely recognizable, but Methous it was. In his chest remained the strike that killed him, Wicked Death's dagger rested buried deep in his ribs. His face's expression not one of pain, as you might think, but rather one of relief. As if to say he was glad it was finished. Gunthar staggered back a few paces, he instinctively reached for his blade. It was resting in his shieth, his mind was in shambles, he didn't know what was happening. He
staggered back a few more steps, then again he lost consciousness as he slipped upon the still wet ground and his head landing sharp on a rock resting on the ground. Again he awoke, the sun nearly setting, he began to rub his head, a huge knot rose where his head had hit the rock. He stood, his stallion now only a few yards away, an anxious snort as it wished to depart. Again he looked for Methous's body, it was no longer to be found. What was to be
seen was a lump in the ground, covered in a heap of rocks. At the head rested a simple cross, bearing no words. He fell into a coughing fit as he moved to mount his stallion. He knew Death had returned, perhaps not to bury the man, rather to retake his dagger he left behind. As he headed back to his home, he could hardly think. All that crossed his mind was the thought of sleep. The thought of Skye worried at home. The thought of his brother
returning.... Would he? Perhaps not, though someday he would get a chance to thank him. Though he knew that Wicked would deny it...as he was just as stubborn as himself. He climbed upon his Stallion, galloping slowly home, once he reached his home he staggered to his door, taking one step inside. He collapsed upon the floor, he could hear Skye's steps and voice running near, though he knew it would all be fine, he was home...<FONT
COLOR="#000000">
Date: 25 Aug 1999 21:06:24 EDT
When he awoke, his head was pounding, he leaned forward, his body immediately feeling the results of the previous night's happenings. The sun was up, it was nearly noon. He felt himself over, still unsure if he was alive. No, he couldn't be... He was knocked out, Methous was about to finish him off. Who was that man who was approaching, could it have been his brother? He slowly stood, his clothes completely ruined. His
chest bore wounds, along with his shoulders and legs. Deep gashes they were, he was lucky he hadn't bled to death.
Then his eyes took in the surroundings, having to close them for a long moment to regain focus. The scene around him was horrid, blood coated the ground everywhere he looked, his stallion was seen a few hundred yards away, grazing over some grass. Then he took sight of the body...he approached, the man lay face down in the mud, covered in blood. The wounds he carried made Gunthar's seem like cat scratches. His body was thrashed, he turned him over,
his face was barely recognizable, but Methous it was. In his chest remained the strike that killed him, Wicked Death's dagger rested buried deep in his ribs. His face's expression not one of pain, as you might think, but rather one of relief. As if to say he was glad it was finished. Gunthar staggered back a few paces, he instinctively reached for his blade. It was resting in his shieth, his mind was in shambles, he didn't know what was happening. He
staggered back a few more steps, then again he lost consciousness as he slipped upon the still wet ground and his head landing sharp on a rock resting on the ground. Again he awoke, the sun nearly setting, he began to rub his head, a huge knot rose where his head had hit the rock. He stood, his stallion now only a few yards away, an anxious snort as it wished to depart. Again he looked for Methous's body, it was no longer to be found. What was to be
seen was a lump in the ground, covered in a heap of rocks. At the head rested a simple cross, bearing no words. He fell into a coughing fit as he moved to mount his stallion. He knew Death had returned, perhaps not to bury the man, rather to retake his dagger he left behind. As he headed back to his home, he could hardly think. All that crossed his mind was the thought of sleep. The thought of Skye worried at home. The thought of his brother
returning.... Would he? Perhaps not, though someday he would get a chance to thank him. Though he knew that Wicked would deny it...as he was just as stubborn as himself. He climbed upon his Stallion, galloping slowly home, once he reached his home he staggered to his door, taking one step inside. He collapsed upon the floor, he could hear Skye's steps and voice running near, though he knew it would all be fine, he was home...<FONT
COLOR="#000000">
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From: lordgunthr@aol.com (LordGunthr)
Date: 25 Aug 1999 21:19:28 EDT
((sorry about a few of the grammor errors, I didn't have time to go back over and check it all out, but the story is understandable. And this is a SL! Remember, no body IC knows of Meth's Death, Except for Gunthar, but he will likely deny any knowledge of it. Though he is a bit beat up.))
Date: 25 Aug 1999 21:19:28 EDT
((sorry about a few of the grammor errors, I didn't have time to go back over and check it all out, but the story is understandable. And this is a SL! Remember, no body IC knows of Meth's Death, Except for Gunthar, but he will likely deny any knowledge of it. Though he is a bit beat up.))