Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (round 2 judging)

Post by PSychotic » Fri May 24, 2013 9:11 am

All these entries are so good! The finals are going to be awesome.

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (round 2 judging)

Post by M0rtimer » Wed May 29, 2013 5:42 pm

Ladies and gentlemen, it is time... The finals are here- But first, of course, the winners of the half-finals. You guys were right, the scores were VERY close. Within a single point of difference the eventual winner was...

Half Finals winners
Vidius's The rasping suit defeats I'mBob's Mazugord!

Dusk9's Kane defeats AccursedBiscuit's Tibiscu!

Congratulations to the both of you- And sorry you didn't make it AccursedBiscuit. It would have been interesting to see you go up against The Rasping suit once more. But regardless. Let's move on to the...

Finals: matchup
Vidius's The rasping suit versus Dusk9's Kane
Location: The gauntlet
Finally the end of your journey is in sight. An enormous mountain. It looks ordinary- But yet you can feel it's presence deep within, guarded by everything the gods could conjure to protect it. But yet, as much as the gods themselves tried to bury it forever under endless rock they found themselves unable to- And as they flooded the hollow mountain with lava, ice, acid and everything else they could think of, a path- Albeit a dangerous one- to the stone remained. Itself not having moved an inch.

And yet, as hard as the gods themselves have tried. As hard as they try to plead, command you as their voices slowly start draining out as you get closer and closer to the stone... The greatest danger may come from one final challenger.

Once again there will be two weeks of time, entries due the 12th of June, 23.59pm. Good luck. And may the best writer win...

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by AccursedBiscuit » Wed May 29, 2013 8:46 pm

Awww. Oh well, Dusk's entry was really good. Can't wait to read the final fights! I even had a specific line picked out.

Tibiscu(upon seeing the Rasping Suit): We meet again...
Giratsu: Cliched dialogue is fun, sin't it?

But oh well. So, are we gonna get the judges feedback this time around? I worked prety hard on my entry and I'm kinda eager to see what they have to say about it
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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by Dusk9 » Thu May 30, 2013 12:32 am

Wait, I won?! o_O

I was honestly expecting to lose in the semi-finals, like I did last time.
Although, it seems like I certainly came close to that. 1 point difference? Really!? Wow......

Bad luck, Biscuit. I thought you did excellently. You're definitely the player who's shown the most improvement, comparing that entry to your first one.

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by vidius » Thu May 30, 2013 3:32 am

Dusk9 wrote:
Bad luck, Biscuit. I thought you did excellently. You're definitely the player who's shown the most improvement, comparing that entry to your first one.
This, a million times this.

You've been amazing in this Accursed. I was actually really looking forward to going up against you again.

Dusk, I was dreading facing you this entire contest...

Lets end with a bang.
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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by Dusk9 » Thu May 30, 2013 6:47 am

vidius wrote: Dusk, I was dreading facing you this entire contest...

Lets end with a bang.
Same here. Mind-Mage vs Fear-Monster is going to be so much fun!!! :roll:

Fortunately, I think I've figured out a good way to do this...... >:D

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by AccursedBiscuit » Thu May 30, 2013 12:42 pm

Thanks guys, the main reason I joined this was to improve my writing style, and having yours to read and draw inspiration from has helped a lot. Thanks for all the support! Can not wait to see you guys go head to head. This is gonna be a big one, I can feel it already. Show'em what you're made of, guys!
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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by M0rtimer » Sun Jun 09, 2013 4:54 am

Don't forget you two that this Wednesday is the deadline for this. Not that I'm expecting anything less than both of you to do a 24 hour caffeine-induced writing rage... :P

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by Arydra » Sun Jun 09, 2013 8:01 am

Can't wait to read both entries.
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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by vidius » Tue Jun 11, 2013 3:57 am

At almost 4500 words I've finished. Now to give it an acid bath of proof reading and editing.
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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by AccursedBiscuit » Tue Jun 11, 2013 8:41 am

I can't wait. These are gonna be so good!
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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by Dusk9 » Tue Jun 11, 2013 1:15 pm

How long to deadline?

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by M0rtimer » Tue Jun 11, 2013 1:20 pm

Let's see... 34 hours and 40 minutes as I'm posting this. :P

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by vidius » Tue Jun 11, 2013 2:32 pm

34 hours to deadline.. 20 hours until Dusk starts drinking coffee and writing :P
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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by Dusk9 » Tue Jun 11, 2013 2:45 pm

Only problem with that sentence is that I drink Irn Bru, not coffee :P

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by vidius » Wed Jun 12, 2013 1:11 am

Dusk9 wrote:Only problem with that sentence is that I drink Irn Bru, not coffee :P
Irn Bru is dead set one of the things I miss most about living in Scotland.. it's amazing.

Luck noble foe, our hour draws near.
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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by Dusk9 » Wed Jun 12, 2013 9:10 am

18 and a half hours after you made that post, and I'm about to start writing again. No Irn Bru, though - we've only got Coke on the fridge :(

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by M0rtimer » Wed Jun 12, 2013 9:18 am

Dusk9 wrote:18 and a half hours after you made that post, and I'm about to start writing again. No Irn Bru, though - we've only got Coke on the fridge :(

Welp, you're doomed.

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by vidius » Wed Jun 12, 2013 3:03 pm

M0rtimer wrote:
Dusk9 wrote:18 and a half hours after you made that post, and I'm about to start writing again. No Irn Bru, though - we've only got Coke on the fridge :(

Welp, you're doomed.
I've already submitted my entry... re edited.. then submitted again :P

But seriously, good luck Dusk!
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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by AccursedBiscuit » Wed Jun 12, 2013 10:05 pm

The suspense!
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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by Dusk9 » Wed Jun 12, 2013 10:46 pm

Submitted :D

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by M0rtimer » Thu Jun 13, 2013 2:29 am

Laaaaaaaadies and gentleman!

The moment we have all waited for. Now, let me not bore you with idle banter- Let us go straight to...

The finals
Vidius's The Rasping Suit versus Dusk9's Kane

The Rasping Suit
Here are some truths for you. Life is not fair. All things must end. IÔÇÖm going to win.

Expanding on the same truths, here is the darkest reality of them all. Life is not fair because I exist. All things must end, because I exist. And IÔÇÖm going to win, because I exist.

I exist. I am real. This is real.

ÔÇ£Mother, Father.ÔÇØ

That was real too. But not for much longer.

The mountain emerged on the horizon ÔÇô to the North ÔÇô just like I had always expected it to. Like I had always known it would. Eventually. I didnÔÇÖt have to wait for too long. Not in the grand scheme of things. After all, I could have waited an eternity. But youÔÇÖve given me this opportunity now. IÔÇÖd thank you if I didnÔÇÖt hate you. But now IÔÇÖm coming. Does that scare you? It should.

Kane was small, he was agile, and he was filled with adrenaline. But even still, this gauntlet leading to the Stone seemed unfair. HeÔÇÖd defeated everyone else in his way so far, surely the Stone should have been his by right now. After all, three other ÔÇÿchampionsÔÇÖ - if any of the pathetic creatures heÔÇÖd defeated could be called that - had already fallen before him. What could be left? A single image still gnawed at the back of his mind. The image heÔÇÖd stolen from Tibiscu, a knight dressed in black. Just the thought of it sent chills up his spine. But it was just a knight, what could be so scary about a knight? Knights in general, had weak wills that were easy to bend. Suppressing a shudder Kane continued along the gauntlet laid before him, nimbly jumping from one stone to another over the acid that hissed around it.

Acid, you think thatÔÇÖs going to stop me? ItÔÇÖs too late. IÔÇÖve already won. IÔÇÖm coming.

Up ahead the passage started to narrow. Kane reached his hands ahead of him and searched for a hand hold, careful to keep his feet wedged against the icy walls. He didnÔÇÖt want to slip and lose his footing or the chute he was in would turn into a slide leading to the pool of acid at the bottom. Not a nice way to go, especially when he was this close. He could almost taste the Stone and all its power. Bracing his fingers around the edge of the shaft Kane pulled himself through into a new chamber. This one was larger than all those that heÔÇÖd passed so far, better illuminated too. Although that was probably because it was filled with lava, the molten, red liquid casting unnatural light and shadows all along the walls. But it wasnÔÇÖt the moving shadows that caught his eyes, it was the single object nestled in the middle of the chamber, a simple dark stone, its surface pulsing in the lava light like something living. A winding pathway of stone lead to it, dipping into and diving out of the lava as it went. Small islands dotted the approach too, and it was evident that the only way to reach the Stone would be to follow the path, and use the islands as stepping stones wherever the path dove into the fiery depths. All Kane needed to do was make it over the pool of red, hot death and the Stone would be his. Piece of cake. A part of Kane thought that the Gods had a sick, twisted sense of humour. A more realistic part of him simply thought that the Gods were all assholes.

Mother, Father.

Kane stopped, had he heard something just now? A voice? No. That was impossible. He was the only person here. However better safe than sorry. Kane scanned the cavern to see where the voice could have come from, but he was alone. Just him and the fire.

Ice? Really? IÔÇÖm through playing your games. This ends today. IÔÇÖve waited for too long. You made me, but that ends today too. I am here, and you canÔÇÖt stop me. Nightmares were my sustenance, but now you feed me too. DidnÔÇÖt think I could taste your fear, did you?

Mother, Father

You canÔÇÖt stop me, no more than this rock wall can.

Crash This time Kane had definitely heard a noise. At first he thought the undisputable sound of rocks tumbling into lava had been caused by a tremor, shaking the cavern and leading some of the stalactites clinging to the roof to become loose and plunge into the fiery lake. Fortunately it wasnÔÇÖt anything so dangerous. Instead it was a hole being physically punched through one of the walls by a gauntleted fist of midnight black metal. A second later the wall started to collapse as a figure forced itself through the opening, jet black armour emerging from the crumbling rocky surface as though the earth itself was giving birth to a new challenge for Kane to face. But this wasnÔÇÖt a new challenge. No. This was a challenge that Kane knew about already. The knight in black. Kane knew he had seen that image for a reason. He smiled. HeÔÇÖd been thinking that this had been too easy. But this knight wouldnÔÇÖt be able to stop him, not when he was this close, not when heÔÇÖd already defeated so many others.

Another one? This is getting tiresome. Still, IÔÇÖve waited this long, another few minutes wont matter in the grand scheme of things, will they. He canÔÇÖt stop me. IÔÇÖve already won.

The knight looked like a beetle in his armour of black. And although bugs had made his skin crawl before, theyÔÇÖd never made it crawl quite like this. It wasnÔÇÖt just the memory of TibiscuÔÇÖs that set Kane on edge, it was something else. This knight reeked of power, power and fear. Its very presence seemed to sap the warmth from the room, irrespective of the heat that the lava generated. This knight was evil. Evil didnÔÇÖt scare Kane, but this knight; this knight came damn close to it.

Another human. But this one is different to Tibiscu, his eyes, yes, I know those eyes. I know that look. Those pale grey eyes tell me all I need to know. The hate, the anger, the sense of self righteous worth. ItÔÇÖs all there already. I know those eyes, and I know you Kane. You were mine before your birth. Welcome home.

It was how unnatural he was, which set Kane on edge about this knight. His armour seemed to drink the light from the room. And his sword Even from across the lava flow he could see that the blade was sharp. It shone from its edge - the only part of the knight that seemed to reflect light like the natural laws of the universe had intended. It shone with a promise of death, while the armour drank in the world around it, forcing the world into it, consuming it. And finally there was the speed of the knight. No man in full plate had the right to move that fast. Kane watched in disbelief as the knight vaulted onto a small islet, crouched, then vaulted again, all whilst its armour squealed like a slaughtered pig, heralding the knights approach.
Here I am, here comes death.

You do not run Kane; is it possible that your superiority complex has lulled you into a false sense of security? DonÔÇÖt make this too easy; after all, IÔÇÖll remember this last clash for the rest of my existence. Yes. Run.

And then the knight was on the path with him. The alignment of the islets had forced the knight to land behind him, but Kane hadnÔÇÖt stuck around to watch the knight coming, heÔÇÖd started running after the second leap. The only reason he knew the knight had landed was because heÔÇÖd felt the path shake as its titanic form had crashed onto the rock. Adrenaline shot through KaneÔÇÖs legs as he sprinted for the Stone, leaping to the next safe haven as the path again dipped into molten death.

Kane was just turning to leap back onto the path when his eyes caught a blur of motion to his right, and a second later that hell forged great sword was burying itself into the ground across the path that he was leaping towards. Kane fumbled his landing, rolled onto his shoulder, and before he could plummet over the ledge his staff was interposed between the blade of the sword ÔÇô now buried in stone ÔÇô and the hilt, creating a brace to stop Kane from falling.
Already Kane was correcting himself, getting to his feet and ready to fight, even as the black knight made the jump Kane himself had just missed, to come thumping into the ground beside him. Sweat beaded down the back of KaneÔÇÖs neck, which had nothing to do with the heat in the cavern.

ÔÇ£Kane.ÔÇØ That voice. It didnÔÇÖt just speak though him, it tore into him, like a dagger in his brain.
ÔÇ£Yes. But you have me at a disadvantage.ÔÇØ Kane replied. HeÔÇÖd managed to pull his staff out from under the sword, and he now stood defensively, waiting for the knight to move.

His voice, so strong, so clear. And his eyes that is not bravado, that is self certainty. His faith in himself will make him delicious.
ÔÇ£Yes. I do. But youÔÇÖve never fought fair in your life, have you Eldred?ÔÇØ

What? He hadnt been called Eldred in fifteen years. The name had taken him back, but only briefly. In the lapse the knight had reached to retrieve its blade, however Kanes staff shot out like an arrow, cracking the gauntleted fingers. Normally the blow would have done serious damage, maybe even broken the fingers beneath the armour, however if it had discomforted this knight at all it didnt show. His retrieval of the blade was one swift motion, ending with the blade coming in a sweeping back hand. Kane wasnt going to give him the chance to make another move. Focusing, Kane made ready to enter into the knights mind. He was so experienced at it; it came to him as naturally as putting on a pair of shoes


Welcome to my domain.

The minds, so many minds! Everywhere he sought inside the cavernous psyche of the knight Kane found another intelligence, and they screamed at him, raged at him, begged him, and wept for him. So many minds. What was this creature?

It is The Rasping Suit
We are The Rasping Suit
You are The Rasping Suit
I am Fear
We are Fear
You are Fear

Kane ripped his mind away from the Suit, only to find that a cold sweat had broken out over his body and his hands were clammy and trembling. The connection had lasted maybe a second but Kane could see this knight for what it truly was. It was a monster. It was The Rasping Suit.

If only you could see your face now Kane. ItÔÇÖs beautiful. No one in their life has ever grasped the reality of what is about to happen as wholly and completely as you do. Kane, you are delicious. Feed me, so I can end this existence well sated.

The blade came whistling at Kane before he even had a chance to realise what was happening. He was so used to being able to rely on knowing his opponentsÔÇÖ intentions that without his capacity to interpret his opponentsÔÇÖ moves, he was already at a heavy disadvantage. He peddled backwards from the massive swing, then lunged with his staff, only to retreat again as the blade moved lightning fast into a reverse slash. Without his opponentÔÇÖs mind open to him like a book, there was only one way this fight was going to end. Kane had no martial prowess, not really. And this nightmare he was facing, it moved so fluidly it would have almost been graceful ÔÇô had the movements not being perpetrated by a suit of nightmare fuelled armour. Kane was going to die here, unless he could do something drastic. But what? He dared not try entering the SuitÔÇÖs mind again, the second heÔÇÖd already spent in there had left him shaken, he shuddered to think what would happen if he dove deeper.

Fear, it is the child of hopelessness. I can see it in your eyes already. There is no way you can defeat me. Your trickery is born of the mind, and I am the terror that lurks behind every psyche. You can do nothing to me. You are already defeated. Now bleed your life into me Kane. Feed me. Fuel me. Let me feel one last time.

Kane barely checked a swipe, side stepped a lunge, then to avoid being buffeted into the lava to his right hand side, lunged past the Suit, rolling into a crouch. He lashed at the SuitÔÇÖs legs with his staff, felt the reverberation of wood on metal up his arm, then rolled again to create more distance between himself and The Rasping Suit as the monsterÔÇÖs free arm lashed out with a savage backhand.

ÔÇ£You fight with desperation Kane. But desperation wont save you, no more than it has saved any of my opponents. Desperation doesnÔÇÖt suit you Kane. You are a schemer, a plotter. You excel when you can devise a strategy and manipulate the environment to suit you. But there is nothing to manipulate here Kane. Only you and I. You have no natural advantages against me. Does that scare you? I hope it does. Fear for me Kane.ÔÇØ

Run, cower from me. I could decapitate you with a stroke if I wanted, but I enjoy this game. You are so delicious. So filling. I strike here and you block, I follow up and you retreat, but soon you will be cornered with nowhere to go. Soon you will be all mine ÔÇô wait what?

The Suit was right, Kane was desperate. And desperate times call for desperate measures. At best Kane estimated he could retreat from maybe two more attacks; he needed to create space and fast. So Kane had had fallen back on his ace in the hole ÔÇô or sleeve if you will. Unloading both volleys of darts from his sleeve mounted launchers at the same time had caught The Rasping Suit off guard, and the momentary respite had renewed KaneÔÇÖs courage It had also let him glimpse just how he might yet win this fight.
The Rasping Suit had raised its hand to shield only one part of its body, the visor. It must be a weakness; he just needed to strike it. However, that of course meant getting close enough to strike the monster of metal and fear.

Your eyes Kane, they are almost beautiful, you know that? So full of possibility. Always calculating, always thinking. I canÔÇÖt wait to see the moment they break. Break for me Kane.

ÔÇ£I can see you thinking Kane, calculating. I calculate too, but instead of calculating a plan, I calculate a personÔÇÖs worth. I know you Kane. I know what you are. You could have been Eldred, do you know that Kane? Had you worked for that church you could have saved lives, thousands of them. But instead of helping people find light and solace you chose to be your own selfish creature. You let humans die so you could live a life of freedom. A life of freedom which youÔÇÖve spent making others suffer.ÔÇØ

Get out of my head! snarled Kane. He tried to think of a plan to get close, but the creatures voice kept invading his mind, and its sword kept pressing him. Kane had to focus all his physical and mental energies into just staying alive. He felt tears of frustration building up. This was not fair. Nothing about this was fair. He couldnt even use his powers his powers Kane may not have been able to enter The Rasping Suits mind to implant an image, but that didnt mean he couldnt use The Rasping Suits own psychological attack against it.

ÔÇ£Samuel didnÔÇÖt think it was fair either, did you know that Kane? Have you ever stopped to think about how your actions have affected others? Those brigades you had him boast to, they murdered him so he could tell no one of whom heÔÇÖd spoken to that night. His last thought was of how unfair it was that he should die, when all heÔÇÖd wanted was a son, and all that his wife had given him were daughters.
He had a wife, and three daughters. And you murdered him. You murdered them all. Without a husband to provide for them all the girls had to work. The youngest died of a pox; she may have lived had her family been able to pay for a healer. But youÔÇÖd already seen to the impossibility of that by murdering their father. The middle girl was raped and murdered working in a large city ÔÇô the only place an uneducated peasant girl could get work. And the oldest died in child birth, she was pregnant to a man sheÔÇÖd prostituted herself too, a necessity she had to engage in to make enough coin to try and feed her starving mother. The mother died less than a week after her eldest daughter. She starved. You killed them all Kane, all so that you could be free to treat the world however you wanted.ÔÇØ

ÔÇ£Who are you to judge me about suffering? You are filled with terror and nightmares, what have you done with all those minds trapped inside you?ÔÇØ Retorted Kane, but he was shaking from head to toe now, the last of his courage leaving him in a stream down his leg. This creatureÔÇÖs words, they struck too close to home. And as the words struck his mind the sword continued to lash at his body.
ÔÇÿSee with your eyes what I want you to see.ÔÇÖ thought Kane. ÔÇÿI know how these mind games work, IÔÇÖll let you believe what I want you to believe.ÔÇÖ

ÔÇ£ÔÇÿDonÔÇÖt do what they didÔÇÖ Kane, that was meant to be your motto. But how quickly did it become ÔÇÿDo as you pleaseÔÇÖ? When did you start enjoying it? After taking one hundred minds? One thousand? Or did you enjoy it from the start? YouÔÇÖre right Kane, I am a monster, but at least I donÔÇÖt pretend to be anything else. You however, you are the worst sort of monster Kane; you are a wolf hiding as a sheep. Bert, you killed him too. You ripped him of what he deserved, then turned him into a shield of meat, let him die for you so you could live, and after he was dead you robbed him. All he wanted to do was make a living, just like Samuel.

ÔÇ£Shut up, stop it!ÔÇØ Kane let the tears come now, salty and hot down his cheeks, a physical sign of the emotional onslaught. This pretending business was fun.
ÔÇÿKeep up the show, I almost have you.ÔÇÖ He though, with an inward smirk.

ÔÇ£And Tibiscu, if only he had made it this far. He was a better man than you Kane, and you killed him too.ÔÇØ

That one caught Kane off guard.
ÔÇ£No, youÔÇÖre lying. He lived, he was alive.ÔÇØ Kane had to make the monster stop. He couldnÔÇÖt let his games actually work. He had made it this far. He deserved to win. The Stone was his by right.

ÔÇ£He may have been alive when you left him, and he may have lived too, but you sheared his skin off to remove those tattoos, and you deprived him of the only healing tonic he had. He died of blood loss Kane. Your cold calculated victory meant that he died. You are a murderer Kane, and these are just a few of your stories. I know you Kane, I know your worth. You are a selfish, power hungry, pathetic human. You manipulate others, and sow death and destruction in your wake. None of your actions shall ever bear fruit to help the world, only ash will lie in your path. I know you Kane. You are rotten to the core, and now you are mine.ÔÇØ

That was a lie, and Kane would kill him for it. He could do it too; The Rasping SuitÔÇÖs attack was a pattern. Taunt, left, right, lunge. If he checked the left, blocked the right, then interposed himself on the inside of the lunge he could get into The Rasping SuitÔÇÖs helm. HeÔÇÖd only get once chance at this. Here goes nothing.

Yes, you think youÔÇÖve won. This will be beautiful. This is over. I have you.

Kane checked the left hand stroke, and then raised his staff to block the reverse cut from the right, but the one thing Kane hadnÔÇÖt calculated on happened. His staff was torn asunder by the savage two handed blow. And although heÔÇÖd placed his body as far back from the strike as he possibly could he still felt the cold steel bite across his flesh. Funny, the coolness of the blade didnÔÇÖt seem anywhere near as terrifying now that it had sliced open his chest. It just felt unfair. No sword had a right to be that sharp.

Kane staggered backwards a step, then another. His hands clutched at the wound and came back red and sticky. Tibiscu had bled this much as heÔÇÖd carved away the tattoos, but heÔÇÖd lived, hadnÔÇÖt he? The Rasping Suit was lying. Kane could still live.
And then The Rasping Suit was before him, and Kane knew the truth, he was going to die. The revelation was so cruel, so unfair. All heÔÇÖd wanted was the Stone. It was his right. He deserved it. The Stone. His mind grasped on the concept of it with all its will, and as he thought about it he could only think one thing. Why?

ItÔÇÖs over Kane. There is nothing left in you now. Not even fear. Give it up. DonÔÇÖt stare at me with that defiance. You are dead. IÔÇÖve killed you. How. Dare. You. Look at me like that. You. Have. No. Right.

ÔÇ£Why...ÔÇØ spluttered Kane through blood and spittle. ÔÇ£Why do you want the Stone...?ÔÇØ

You want to know the truth Kane? You want to know the reality of the world? Fine. Let me show you the reality of the world. Maybe you do deserve to die knowing what truly awaits you.

ÔÇ£Why do I want the Stone? I want the Stone, because. I. Exist.ÔÇØ The voice of The Rasping Suit screamed through Kane, raping his mind like he had raped so many others. It shredded his broken psyche, tearing him apart via his damaged body and shattered mind. The cruelty of the voice alone would have made Kane weep, had he not already been crying from the pain of his wound, and the injustice of his defeat. But through all the suffering and hurt a single flame shimmered into existence ÔÇô through the screaming of The Rasping Suits voice, and the aching and bleeding of his body ÔÇô a single idea flickered to life. Because. I. Exist. The Rasping Suit existed, and apparently, it hated its existence. It wanted to die. It was a long shot, but it was his only shot.

ÔÇ£We can both win.ÔÇØ Kane managed to cough.

ÔÇ£You are pathetic.ÔÇØ

ÔÇ£I can end you. Please. I can end you. Just let me have the Stone. IÔÇÖll kill you here, and you wonÔÇÖt need to be remembered anymore.ÔÇØ
The Rasping Suit picked Kane up by his throat, rasing him to gaze into the void that was its helmet. Terror peered our from behind the empty slits, it stripped Kane naked, but he could not flinch now. He would have the Stone. He had to have the Stone.

ÔÇ£Kane. Eldred. Or what ever else you call yourself, you cannot deceive me. I know you. I know you because you are weak, craven, and pathetic. You seek to armour yourself in the suffering of others, and think that because you suffered and were exploited at the hands of others it is your right to do the same. You want one thing Kane, to further yourself until the world is your subject. You are rotten to the core. You are also a pathetic, snivelling runt, and you have carved your destiny in the suffering of others. Your word is worthless Kane, and so are you. Even if I did believe you, I can still get what I want by taking the Stone. What makes you think IÔÇÖd let you claim the Stone on the off chance that you, a self centred wretch, would give me what I want anyway?ÔÇØ

ÔÇ£Because you just got distracted by your monologue, and now youÔÇÖre dead!ÔÇØ All heÔÇÖd needed was to be this close to The Rasping Suit; The Suit itself has shown Kane its weakness. The helmet. Behind that empty space lurked something that could be killed. It had been killed before, and now he would kill it again. You may not be able to kill an idea, but you could kill a body.

In the time that the suit had taken to speak, Kane had managed to curl his toes around the broken shaft of his staff, and slowly, carefully, he had brought it up to his hands. Now the end of the staff protruded from the socket of The Rasping SuitÔÇÖs helm.

The scream ÔÇô it was inhuman, and as it washed over Kane a chilling fear shook him to the core. The sound enveloped him, tormented him, and left him lying on the cold, rock floor ÔÇô shivering despite the heat bubbling around him from the lava. But he was alone now. The suit was gone. All that remained was the helm, lying on the ground, looking up at him. The light cast by the lava rifts seemed to drink into the consuming blackness of the helm. Everything seemed to travel into that helm. It was so dark, so cruel, and so powerful.

Kane reached out a hand towards it. He knew what it meant, but Kane couldnÔÇÖt help it. It called him, beckoned him, and invited him in. No one else could control it, but he was Kane, he was better than all the other people ÔÇô all the other sheep. He was Kane, he would not do what they expected; he would do what he wanted.

He was Kane, and like The Rasping Suit had predicted, he was rotten to the core. His hands grasped the helm, and before even KaneÔÇÖs advanced intellect could comprehend, the cold iron was over his head, his last terrified scream still stuck on his lips.

Your voice echoes through my head even now Kane. It is beautiful. Made all the more beautiful because you thought you could defeat me. You cannot defeat me. I am fear. Fear is eternal. I had already won when this world began. DonÔÇÖt worry though, there isnÔÇÖt much left. The nightmare is almost over.

The Rasping Suit flexed a gauntleted hand of lobster steel, then instinctively reclaimed paranoia ÔÇô now one name richer. With blade in hand The Rasping SuitÔÇÖs joints gave their last squeals as it moved to claim the Stone, and its victory right.

Mother. Father. IÔÇÖm coming.
The silence was....eery.

It wasn't the relaxing silence that accompanied a peaceful night's sleep.
Nor was it the awkward silence of a failed conversation.

No....it was the silence of anticipation. The calm before the storm. Peace before Chaos.

Sanity before Fear.

There were no birds to break the silence. No chirps or tweets to disperse the cloud of tension that draped itself over the wasteland. Nothing living had set foot on the barren mountain for centuries. For millennia. Devoid of plant life, the ground was dry and cracked, dust and gravel caking the rocky surface.

But nothing is permanent. All things must break eventually. All things must die.
And the silence of a mountain is no exception.

The crunch of boot on stone.
The scrape of metal on metal.

And nothing would ever be the same again.

His breathes came in short, sharp bursts. Stone splintered and slid, gravel giving way beneath his feet. Reaching up, he grasped the ledge above him and pulled, scrambling over the edge as the rocks below tumbled away.
Panting, Kane pulled himself up and slumped on the nearest boulder, hands on his knees. Raising his head, he surveyed the land before him, calculating how far he'd come.

Not far enough.

The mountain loomed above, each shadow threatening to collapse and crush him under a pile of rubble. The cloaked figure sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow. He should have chosen a better route. At the rate this was going, his current one would soon be too steep to follow safely.
But then, that was easy said than done. He had circumnavigated the mountain before beginning his ascent, and the simple fact of the matter was this - there was no easy path. At least, none that he could see. The mountain was identical on all sides, with enough steep cliffs and loose surfaces to challenge even the most skillful climber.
A warning from the gods, to discourage those foolish enough to seek the Stone.

Kane knew this. And yet, he continued to climb.
For glory? Wealth? Power?
Those things had meant little to him in the past. Why should they matter now?

He had always been content simply with the challenge his line of work brought him. The thrill of a successful heist. Taking precious secrets, both physical and mental, straight from under the noses of hapless fools.
The payment and infamy were added bonuses - nothing more.

If that same motivation applied here, then....then that trickster god had been truthful with him. Like Felix, he was a gambler, risking everything simply for the sake of it. There was no reason for his actions. No motivation, selfless or selfish.

With a start, he breaks out of his daydream. Something had changed. The mountain felt....different.

Jumping to his feet, Kane looked down over the ledge, searching. And then he heard it.

The crunch of boot on stone.
The scrape of metal on metal.

Twisting, he follows the sound up the side of the cliff face, until he finds the source - a lone figure, scaling the rocks slowly but with great determination. The pale sunlight, barely breaking through the thick cloud above, seems to disappear as it reaches him. Squinting, Kane makes out thick black metal - full body plate armour, it looks like.

Suddenly, memories flash through his head. Memories of a monster in metal. A black sword, dark as a starless night.
And an intense fear, more powerful than any he's ever sensed before.

The memories weren't his. They belonged to the monk, Tibiscu, and his imprisoned mentor.
But as that terror burrows it's way into the core of his being, a shiver races down Kane's spine.

He had to move. Now.

Mother, Father.

Stone cracks and splinters under the great mass of metal. A black gauntlet, covered in razor sharp knurls and knots, grasps the ledge tightly. The rock groans under the strain, but does not cave in, as the Rasping Suit pulls itself over the edge.

Mother, Father.

Pulling itself to it's feet, the Rasping Suit moves on. Never stopping. Never resting.
Fear does not sleep. Fear does not stop.

Mother, Father.

The steep ascent was nothing to the Rasping Suit. Just another stepping stone, on it's path to the Maker's Stone.

Mother, Fath-

The Rasping Suit stops.

There. Fear.
Like a beacon in the empty, barren mountainside, it stood out. The fear drew in the Rasping Suit. Like a moth to a flame.

The Rasping Suit recognised that fear. Recognised the terror.


The journey would end as it had begun.

With limbs like lead, Kane pulls himself up and onto the next ledge. Gasping, he doesn't stop to catch his breath, pushing on. The rapid beating of his heart was all he needed to tell that the armoured man was close behind him. Though naught but a memory, Tibiscu's fear was stronger than any he had felt before. And it told him to run, as fast as he could.
Pulling himself forward, Kane prepares for the next step of the climb....then stops.

There. A cave.
A way into the mountain.

Ignoring the fear, Kane grins. He was close. Luck was on his side.

But then he hears it. The crunch of boot on stone. The scrape of metal on metal.

Turning, he watches as a thick metal gauntlet, black as oblivion itself, grasps the ledge. Then, a second appears. And, with splintering stone and grating gravel, the Rasping Suit pulls itself up to it's full height.

Grim-faced, Kane reaches back and pulls his staff from it's bindings.
One more fight. One more, and the Stone would be his.

He attempts to calm himself for the fight, prepare his body and mind. But as hard as he tries, he cannot stop his legs from shaking, his fear screaming to run, as hard and fast as he can. No, not his fear. Tibiscu's.
Ignoring the monk's memories, Kane focuses on the task at hand. Almost casually, he mentally pushes forward, reaching towards the armoured man's mind. The fear tries to pull him back, but fails, as a narrow mental corridor opens up between the two minds.....

And instantly snaps shut.

The blood drains from Kane's face, eyes widening. His knuckles turn pure white as he clenches his staff, nails digging in so deep that they actually break the skin.

No longer was Tibiscu's fear the strongest he had felt.

With heavy limbs, Kane turns and rushes for the cave, disappearing into the dark shadows. But he knows they won't hide him.
Nothing will hide him. Not from that.

He cannot hide. Nothing can hide. Not from fear itself.

The Rasping Suit walks on, into the mountain depths. The lack of light is meaningless to it - a minor inconvenience, nothing more. It can sense the terror of the mind-walker, shining brightly ahead of it. The trail left behind is like a beacon, drawing the Rasping Suit on, deeper into the pitch black caverns.

The human would tire, while the Rasping Suit would not. The human would fail, while the Rasping Suit would not. The human would stop, while the Rasping Suit would not.

And then the Rasping Suit would feast upon the fear of one that had foolishly tried to touch it's mind directly. And Paranoia would cleave the broken shell that remained in two. And the Rasping Suit would claim the Stone of the Maker for itself.

Mother, Father.

Kane was blind.

Without a light source, he was forced to scramble desperately, following the walls of the tunnel as it weaved through the mountain, deeper and deeper into the unknown. The last shreds of common sense told him to thrust his staff out ahead, tapping the ground like a blind man to check for pits and inclines. But that was the most complex thought his panicking brain could handle.

And unfortunately, it doesn't help him notice when the ground turns to ice.
Slipping onto his back with a smack, Kane is unable to stop his now much faster descent into the mountain. Quickly picking up speed, he snatches desperately at the wall and floor, trying to slow down. His fingers meet nothing but freezing cold ice, slipping off easily on the smooth surface.
The tunnel - now more like a slide from hell - begins to twist and turn, slamming Kane into the walls repeatedly and painfully. By now, he's given up on slowing himself down, and is just trying to avoid the pain as much as possible. Curling up into a ball, he whimpers pitifully with each hit, silently begging for the nightmare to stop.

After what could have been ten minutes or ten hours, the torture finally ends. Slippery ice gives way to solid rock, and the bruised and battered Kane climbs gingerly to his feet. His mind is a mess - a bundle of nerves that feel nothing but pain and humiliation. And fear.

A small part of him notes that the ground is smooth and stable under his feet, yet rough like sandpaper to his fingers. It also notes how peculiar the stone is, unlike any he's encountered before.
But that part is ignored, as the once confident Kane is mindlessly pushed forward by the terror that grips his heart. The air becomes stuffy and warm as the coolness from the icy tunnel diminishes. And suddenly, the temperature and humidity ramp up sharply to near tropical levels. Again, a part of him subconscious comments on the oddness of this.
Kane doesn't care. He just wants to keep moving. To escape.
Up ahead, a faint light appears - not enough to see by, but nevertheless a beacon for the increasingly desperate Kane. He starts towards it, fear of the dark and what might lurk within driving him to ignore the pain and keep moving forward.

Practically running now, Kane moves out of the dark tunnel....and is immediately hit by a wall of scorching heat far greater than any he had ever experienced before in his short lifetime.
Gasping for breath, he doubles over, eyes stinging in pain at the thermal assault on his senses. After a couple of seconds his body begins the grow accustomed to the abnormally high temperatures, and his skin stops screaming in pain. Blinking heavily, Kane stands up and opens his eyes, trying to observer his surroundings through the blur of tears.

He was standing on a rock ledge. No, a bridge. The cavern was huge - easily large enough to fit an entire city within - and made of a pitch black stone. It wasn't a type that Kane had ever seen before, but that wasn't what concerned him.
He was more interested in the source of the rich red and yellow light which was illuminating the cavern, and allowing him to see the rock in the first place.
Leaning over the side of the ledge, Kane is greeted by an intense blast of heat that threatens to remove his eyebrows. Coughing and spluttering, he backs away from the edge, one word burning in his mind.


Though he had never encountered it directly, he had heard tales from those who had. And seen their memories of it.
Molten rock. Hot enough to melt through steel and iron, capable of destroying entire villages within a few hours. And that was just small rivers of it. Below his feet now, was an ocean of the stuff.

Sighing heavily, Kane tries to put images of himself burning alive out of his head, and focus on the path forward.

The bridge he was on was long, narrow, and lead towards the centre of the cavern. Another quick check below confirmed that it was supported by pillars of that odd black rock, which seemed to be immune to the magma's heat. Hopefully, at least.
But the bridge wasn't straight. Far from it - after a hundred metres or so, it split and twisted multiple times, creating a maze of bridges that stretched out and filled virtually the entire cavern.

And with the scorching heat came lucidity. Kane's mind was clearer now - no longer clouded by the grip of fear. It was still there, of course. Eating away at his insides. But he could hold it back now. He could fight it.


The sudden sound makes Kane jump, his frayed nerves close to breaking point. It came from behind him.


Footsteps. Metal on stone.


The fear intensifies, freezing his heart.




Tearing his eyes away from the shadowy tunnel, Kane runs, feet flying over the black stone bridge.

The eyes. Aim for the eyes.

Gasping, Kane raises his arms to fire. But the fear is overwhelming now, his limbs shaking madly with terror. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot get his aim to be true - the bolts flying wildly, hitting stone and metal, but missing their target by a mile.

And then the Rasping Suit is upon him.

He had tried to run. He had sprinted harder and faster than ever before. And as he had closed in on the centre of the chamber, navigating the maze of rock and lava, he had realised something.

This was it. His goal.
The resting place of the Maker's Stone.

And with that knowledge, came a plan. If the Stone could make things, then perhaps it could also unmake.

But as fast as he moved, getting closer and closer to the Stone through blind luck more than anything else, he couldn't outrun the Rasping Suit.

And now, barely a hundred metres from the pedestal which holds the Maker's Stone, the Rasping Suit was upon him.

The dark blade descends like an executioners axe, missing his neck by centimetres. He doesn't escape unscathed, however.
With a wooden clatter, the quarterstaff hits the ground. And with a wet thump, the hand that recently held it soon follows. Kane stares in horror at the stump on his arm, bile rising in his throat. Blood flows freely from the fresh wound, sizzling as it pools on the scorching rock below.
As he kneels there in shock, a cold metal hand reaches down and grasps his throat. Desperately, Kane's remaining hand scrabbles at that of the Rasping Suit, trying to pry the fingers free. But the Rasping Suit has no problems lifting him into the air, legs dangling uselessly below. Kane can do nothing but stare. Stare into abyss that was the Rasping Suit's eyes.

"It is over. You cannot escape fear. It is eternal. I am eternal."
"I. Am. Fear."

"The Stone is mine. You have lost a pointless battle, to a foe you never had a chance of defeating. But before you die - before the last drop of blood falls from your cooling corpse, and the last spark of intelligent thought flickers out of existence - allow me to show you what I truly am. What true fear is."

Still in shock from the loss of his hand, Kane is unable to resist the dark cloud that slowly descends upon his mind.

"You are a being of chaos, Kane. Ruled by nothing but your own whims, you seek to shape the world in such a way as to suit only yourself. And yet, you fear the decisions of others. You fear that they will attempt to shape you to their whims. That they will take away your freedom."
"You are what you fear, Kane. And that fear is the sweet nectar that fuels my very existence."

"I am the Rasping Suit, and you are just another meal."

Slowly, the cloud spreads, consuming Kane's thoughts. All hope of escape, of survival, is extinguished.

Not all.
One last sliver remains.
A fragment of thought, clinging desperately to a single concept.


The Rasping Suit hungers.
Hungers for the fear of the mortal, Kane.
So it consumes, devouring the terror that emanates from his all but broken mind. The Rasping Suit pushes forward, stripping thought and reason indiscriminately, destroying all traces of Kane's psyche.

At least, that was the plan. But as the Rasping Suit begins it's meal, Kane's mind....vanishes.
No, not vanishes....shrinks. The mental essence retreats, hiding away from the all-consuming force of the Rasping Suit. And the fear which it craves goes to, deep into the darkest corners of Kane's mental landscape.

With a quick breath, Kane opens his eyes. It's dark. Very dark.
Pitch black, in fact.

Even as he thinks this, light steadily floods the small room, originating from an unseen source. White walls, made of a smooth, flawless marble. No doors, windows, or other obvious ways in or out of the room.

It had been a while since he'd been down here.

Sighing heavily, he pulls himself to his feet, dusting off his cloak. He brings his hands - two of them, both intact - to his face, smiling wistfully. At least he would always be whole within his dreamscapes. Not that it mattered much. Even if this plan of his did succeed, chances are he would never wake up again......

Focus. Remember the plan.

Closing his eyes, Kane focuses hard. When he opens them again, his surroundings have changed.
The white room is larger. Much larger. So large that the most accurate way to describe it would not be 'huge' or 'gigantic', but 'infinite'. It also isn't empty anymore, with towers of crates and boxes filling the room. Piled on top of each other in rows, the boxes form aisles that stretch far into the distance.

Not pausing to think, Kane rushes off down the aisle ahead of him. Dust swirls past as he runs, forming ethereal shapes in the still air. The particles get everywhere - his eyes, ears, and throat. But he ignores them, focused on his goal.

Emotions pulse within Kane as he runs past each row of boxes, seemingly at random - joy, hurt, regret, courage, pity, despair, and many more. Memories form as well - his first sight, first smell, first word. He ignores them all.

Eventually, he reaches his destination. At first glance, this aisle is much like the others. However, it has something they do not. An aura of terror. Kane's terror. Fear of the past. Fear of the future. All of it, condensed into a single row of seemingly ordinary boxes and crates.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, he begins to step forward, fists clenched. But as he does so, the roof of the warehouse is wrenched away, bathing the area in ethereal light. The walls crumble, revealing an open expanse of seemingly infinite size. The light is caused by large star-like balls of pale-green energy, all interconnected by strands of light that loop across the sky like the silk of a spider.

But in the middle of it all, a pulsing mass of nightmarish black energy. Massive tentacles stretching through the air, tearing the globes of light to shreds in a single touch. Kane can feel himself slipping away with each star that dies, falling deeper and deeper into despair. Knowing he doesnÔÇÖt have long, he turns and strides down the aisle, overcoming his terror. Each box he passes disintegrates, the energy released flowing into him, fuelling his fear.

He stumbles. Falls. Trembling, he pulls himself up, fighting the fear. His heart is beating so hard and fast it feels like it could really burst from his chest at the slightest chance. But he keeps going, letting the terror grow, letting it consume him.
And just when it feels too much.
Just as he feels on the verge of collapsing and never getting back up.
He reaches the end.

There, on a pedestal, he finds a simple wooden box. Black as night, it shines with an unholy light, vibrating slightly under his fingertips.

His worst nightmare. His greatest fear.

Grasping the terror within, he channels it along his arm, until it coalesces in his right hand. The one which had been chopped off by the Rasping Suit, back in the real world. Then, he lifts the lid, and forces the pure fear he has collected into the box, focusing it, merging it. To an observer, it looks like he is trying to seal it away. To hide it from the rapidly approaching monster. And it seems the Rasping Suit believes this too, as it speeds up, unwilling to let its feast escape it.

But then, there is a noticeable shift in the air. The chilling fear vanishes, replaced by a white hot burning sensation, more fierce than the heat of a thousand suns. The box shatters into ashes, a bright light bursting forth from the pedestal, blinding both Kane and the cloud of terror that is the Rasping Suit.

After what could have easily been seconds, minutes, or even hours, the light dims. In the boxÔÇÖs place is a staff.
At first glance, it appears to be much like KaneÔÇÖs quarterstaff. ItÔÇÖs the same length, the same thickness, the same shape. The only differences are that this staff is topped with a blade, glows bright white, and gives off an aura of pure, undiluted rage.

Kane grasps the spear-staff, turning to face the dark mass above. Virtually the entire sky of lights has been consumed, lost forever. Teeth gritted, and eyes flaming, he begins to speak.

"You are the embodiment of the nightmares which stalk the dark. Terror did not exist before you."
"The chilling emotion. The paralyzing pain."
"Fear has a name, and that name is The Rasping Suit."

"This is the embodiment of the strength that fuels menÔÇÖs hearts. Life did not exist before it."
"The burning desire. The invigorating hate."

"Rage does not have a name......but then, it has never needed one."

With that, he pulls back his arm and throws with all his might. The bolt of hatred flies true, arcing directly into the monstrous, writhing mass of black with a flash of light more powerful than that of a dying star.
And a million times as deadly.

Pain flows through Kane's neurons, shocking him into consciousness. Coughing heavily, he gingerly pulls himself up from the ground, using his good left hand.
His right still lies on the smoking ground, less than a metre away.

But despite the pain, he feels oddly.....calm.


The sudden noise breaks him out of his reverie. Slowly, he raises his head, looking towards the sound.
The Rasping Suit looks much less imposing now, struggling to rise up from one knee. White smoke seeps from the gaps in it's armour, flowing over the ground and off the nearby edge like water. Or blood....

Do not mistake this for a victory. You have not killed me. You cannot kill me. I am fear. I am terror. All creatures feel it. All fear it. All will fall beneath it and the dark blade of Paranoia.

Groaning, Kane pulls himself upright, ignoring the pain of his bruised and battered body.
And then, he laughs - a short chuckle, out of place in the hellish landscape.

"....my arms arenÔÇÖt shaking."

The twin bolts of metal strike like cobras, embedding themselves deep in the dark helmetÔÇÖs eye sockets. The Rasping Suit screams, in pain and rage, an unearthly blast of sound that echos off the cavern walls and violently bursts Kane's eardrums. The scream intensifies in pitch and volume, building and building and building, until finally, a shockwave of dark energy tears through the Rasping Suit, ripping it into pieces that tumble down into the molten rock far below.

And as his steaming blood pools on the ground, from both his stump of an arm and now destroyed ears, Kane does nothing but smile. A serene, joyous, ear-to-ear grin of pure, undiluted happiness.

The sun was bright, reflecting off the water and up into the traveller's eyes. Muttering under his breath, he holds up a hand over his eyes as he passes the pool, before turning his attention back to the gateway. Carved from two solid slabs of rock, and arranged into an archway, it marked the entrance to the monastery.
The journey had taken many weeks, but finally, he had made it.

As he crosses the threshold, the figure pulls back his hood and takes a deep breath, relishing the scents and sounds of the small community.
And then, he hears a familiar voice.

"Brother Tibiscu!? You have returned!"

With a broad grin on his face, the elemental monk turns to greet his fellow. White bandages can be seen covering his forearms, as he reaches up to grasp the other monk's hands tightly in his own.

"Brother Resferin! It is good to be back."
"Tell me, Brother, were you successful in your pilgrimage? Does Giratsu walk among us once more?"
Tibsicu's face falls, eyes filled with regret. Hastily, Resferin seeks to change the subject.
"I see. My sorrow goes out to the both of you."

"...however, I bring good news where you do not. We have a new initiate to the order. One that shows great promise."
"In fact, he says he knows you?"
Confused, Tibiscu tries to think of who it could be....quickly settling on an answer.
"....I met a violent rogue while crossing the great desert. After besting him in combat, I offered him sanctuary here, should he ever wish to seek enlightenment. That is most likely who you speak of."
"Very well. Follow me, I shall lead you to him."

Nodding, Tibiscu allows himself to be lead through the monastery grounds, to a great stone building that towers above the rest. Inside, they climb numerous flights of stairs, as Resferin fills him in on the developments he missed while travelling.

Well, it appears that this wasn't a complete failure after all.
Agreed. While a single initiate may not match the Stone in power, he should at least prove beneficial to our order.

Eventually, the pair of them reach a balcony, which overlooks the mountainous landscape. Sitting at the edge, legs crossed, is a man dressed in a brown cloak. Tibiscu opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, he hears a familiar voice. One that speaks to him not only verbally, but also resonates deep within his mind, each word a pulse of soothing thoughts and images.

"A gorgeous view, don't you think?"

He stands and stares, hardly believing his eyes, as the figure pulls himself to his feet and turns to face him him. In one smooth motion, he pulls back his hood, to reveal the face of the man who had denied him the Stone.


But, this Kane was...different, from the one he had faced at the Edge of the World. He eyes were softer, kinder, his face much more relaxed and open.
He looked....calm.

Smiling softly, Kane takes a deep bow, before addressing the monk.

"Hello again, Tibiscu. And Giratsu. It is good to see you again."
"I would like to start by apologizing for my actions back when we first met. Removing your strength from you like that was inexcusable, however, my mind was much more restricted back then. My vision narrowed by fear and anger."

Still stunned, Tibiscu can only stand and stare. Fortunately, Giratsu is more proactive, taking control of his voice momentarily.

"What of the Stone? And...and the Suit?"

Kane's smile widens.
"The Suit is gone. It will not harm anyone else. For now, at least...."
"As for the Stone....well, it is gone too."
Sighing, he turns to look out over the landscape.
"I am sorry, but it was simply too powerful too leave lying around. If I had kept it for myself, eventually I would have died, and someone with heart of evil would have obtained it. It was...inevitable."

With a heavy heart, Tibiscu nods in agreement.
I am sorry again, Giratsu. But I will find another way to bring you back. And I will not rest until it is done.

Tibiscu glances up, confused at Kane's change in tone.
"....that won't be necessary.

In one smooth motion, Kane raises his right hand, and snaps his fingers. The sound is louder than normal, resonating in the air, echoing off stone wall and rocky mountain. The wind shifts, changing direction. Slowly, wisps of cloud begin to race down from the sky above, one second a trickle, then a torrent of white mist. The cloud surrounds Tibiscu, blinding him in seconds.
And as he struggles to stand upright, to see through the wall of white, he feels something strange happening. Deep within his soul. He feels an emptiness he has not felt in years. He feels....alone.

Slowly, the mist begins to disperse. And as the whirlwind of white vanishes, Resferin sees not one, but two monks, staring at each other in shock and awe.

"Did you really believe that a lowly mortal like myself could destroy a piece of the Maker?"
Kane is smiling, beaming even, as Tibiscu and Giratsu both turn to stare at him.
"There was only one way for me to make sure that nobody could ever take the power from me. And that was to make it a part of me."
"And now, I am something much more than the weak human I was before. Like a god, but....different.

"I am everlasting."
"I am eternal."
"I am....hope."

"Hey, Adam! Wait up!"

The young boy races ahead, laughing as he flees from his younger brother.
They loved it here, down in the depths. Their parents always told them to stay away. That it was dangerous down there. But then, what did they have to fear?

After a couple more minutes of running, he slows to a jog, still laughing. But as he stops and looks behind, that laugh dies in his throat.

His brother had vanished. Dammit, the idiot must have gone down the wrong tunnel somewhere.
With a heavy sigh, Adam turns and begins to walk back. If he didn't find him before their parents found out, he'd be in so much trouble....


His voice echos off the walls, throughout the whole mountain. But there is no reply.
However, just as he's about to give up, he hears something. A voice.


"...Sam? Is that you?"

Ignoring the sudden dark feeling in the pit of his stomach, Adam follows the sound of the voice. What was his brother playing at now?


Soon, he reaches a small chamber. The voice is louder now, drawing him in. He's not sure he could stop, even if he wanted to.


He see's it now. A black piece of metal, shining with a dark light, half embedded in the rock. It comes out easily in his hands.

A helmet.

Two words resonate within his mind, pushing out all thoughts of his family. Of his brother, and his parents.

"Wear me....."

The crunch of boot on stone.
The scrape of metal on metal.

I am everlasting.
I am eternal.
I am fear.

I am the Rasping Suit.

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by thinkslogically » Thu Jun 13, 2013 2:58 am

Holy shit.

Those are just awesome.

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by Dusk9 » Thu Jun 13, 2013 3:00 am

....can we both be winners? :paranoia:

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Re: Rating wars II: Electric boogaloo (Finals)

Post by M0rtimer » Thu Jun 13, 2013 3:14 am

There can be only one.

Needless to say though, both were amazing entries. You both definitely deserved to get this far.

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