No one knew why we were fighting. All we knew is that all at once we were alive and filled with Armok's burning fury. There were 30 of us, born of nothing, crammed in a tiny stone room.
I looked around as I hefted my mighty two handed godmetal blade and my azure helmet felt heavy on my crown as the scrape of my bluemetal boots echoed in the small space. Someone screamed an intelligible cry and sliced the dwarf next to him. All at once the room descended into an orgy of violence as blade met flesh and the grey floor quickly began to run with the blood of countless wounds. Bodyparts began to almost rain down as the dwarves savagely hewed away at each other like they were harvesting firewood.
For my part I neatly decapitated one dwarf, his body crashing lifelessly to the ground nearby and inflicted wounds on a few others, knowing nothing but the echoing voice in my head pushing me on and the fear in my opponent’s eyes as their anguished screams bounced off the walls. The clang of weapon on weapon was deafening.
Suddenly a horrible pain assaulted my chest. As if in slow motion I saw a huge blue blade protruding from my chest. As the dwarf who wielded the blade pulled it free along with a torrent of blood and a thin ribbon of, I struggled to breathe, as air whistled nosily into my chest from the gasping gash within it.
Ignoring the feeling I calmly aimed a cut at the neck of my attacker as I felt Armok had taught me to in my time before existence. I watched as his head flew off his now useless shoulders and landed on the wet floor with a dull splat.
Soon after I felt another blinding pain as my right hand was cut off, neatly at the wrist. One moment it was there as it always had been and then it was gone. I half stumbled half staggered away from the battle as the torn stump that had once been my right hand reddened the floor. A few twisted shreds were all that was left.
I stood there behind a wall nor far from the battle, where the din of metal on metal and dying dwarves was just as loud as ever as they slew each other at the behest of their god. In time my arm seemed to bleed its last and the pain that clouded my vision receded somewhat.
Hefting my sword with my one good hand I grimly returned to the fray as Armok screamed in my mind.
After little more melee and killing, a huge blade carved my leg nearly in twain. As I faltered and slipped to the floor a bloodied mess, the dwarf who did it glowered down at me. I could not stand the blow had left my leg hanging by a thread, so i struck upwards from the floor. I despaired as the dwarf easily blocked the clumsy attack and proceeded to aim a deadly slice right at my chest. The azure blade entered my chest unerringly and found my heart with a loud chopping sound, like someone had just driven a cleaver into a vegetable. My chest became soaked as my life blood began to gush onto the stone floor.
But I was not dead yet. As I ebbed, I struck upward at my merciless foe, trying desperately to cut him down while I still had time. I bought my side upward and bought it down with a sickening crack onto his back. The man froze as if he had ran into an invisible wall and crumpled, unconscious before he even reached the floor.
The room had grown quiet. Even the wheezing of dying dwarves had faded away as only a handful of fighters still lived. Bodies lay strewn around the room, easily visible in the dim light from my position in the floor. My vision was growing dimmer, I had to hurry.
Slowly, agonizingly I crossed the few meters to my killer's unconscious form. It was too easy. I smirked, despite the pain and my own approaching death, as I drew the heavy blade across his neck. A river of crimson issued forth from his neck as the blade bit into him.
I pulled the azure blade free and dragged my way to two other dwarves that were living in the room, unconscious and both with previous injuries. I cut both of their throats as I had with Dwarf 119, my killer and now my victim.
I saw one more dwarf in the distance, looking very pale. I staggered towards him, but suddenly the world lurched and turned a lifeless grey. As I slipped to the floor Armok complements echoing in my herd, somehow I was dimly aware of that dwarf gurgling his last as I prepared to meet my lord.
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Topic: M.A.D, arena style. (Read 1167 times)