Article: 17446 of alt.games.mk Newsgroups: alt.games.mk Path: senator-bedfellow.mit.edu!bloom-beacon.mit.edu!spool.mu.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!news.sprintlink.net!sunserver.insinc.net!cuugnet!bowens From: bowens@cuug.ab.ca (Scott Bowen.) Subject: FANFIC (2/2) Sender: usenet@cuug.ab.ca Message-ID: Date: Sat, 5 Nov 1994 02:42:59 GMT Organization: Calgary UNIX User's Group Lines: 100 The Kahn fought Concealer the next day, and crushed him. I feel sorry for him. I know not his cause, but his virtue was good. He escapes somehow, too, and is gone now. Perhaps this is better. * * * I saw one more fight before the day was out. One of the Kahn's warriors, Masked-Force, fought an oddly garbed man who summoned the powers of the storm at will. One bystander tells me that this man is a God. His soul lies plain and open for me to read, though, unlike the Kahn's. Even the Kahn is not as powerful as a God. I think on this while the fight progresses, and vow to look at the Kahn when he fights again. The Kahn dwells only partly on this world, and so makes it difficult for me to see his soul. Perhaps, though, he must be fully here to fight properly. I will look when I have a chance. Now I turn my attention to the fight again, in time to see the God grab Masked-Force and lift her up. She begins to glow blue, and screams in pain loudly... the courtyard echoes with her cry. The God drops her to the ground now, and with a flash of lightning, removes himself from the arena. Though the Kahn makes much show of having Masked-Force brought in to be healed, none doubt that she is dead where she lies. I look at the Kahn now, and see bloodlust beginning to take more power over him. This worries me, for though it is not an evil trait, he loses more and more of his virtue to it each day. I will protect him, I know that without doubt. But I wait. This man teaches me the virtues, surely he protects his own. * * * The Kahn tells me that his puny body-stealing minion turns into a copy of me to slaughter his opponents. I find this funny, the thought of such a small man with his greedy soul turning into me. He tells me this while I am on my way to the courtyard again. The God has annoyed the Kahn now beyond all hope. There will be no mercy when I fight now. The Kahn is so consumed by his desires that he may have me killed if I fail again. I walk up the stone hallway for the third time, and am face to face with the God. A tingle fills the air all around me now. I have never been this close to him before. He stands ready, glowing with electric sparks. I feel the Kahn's eyes in my back, watching my every move. For the first time in many years I am nervous. The fight begins, and I find myself against an opponent who comes and goes like a breeze. Always I find myself just within reach of him, only to be struck and find him behind me. He flies and moves as if unbound to the earth. I catch him a few times, and smash him with all my might, yet once again the Kahn sees what he longs for. A massacre. I have failed my lord. Will there be any more second chances for me, or will I become an example to his subjects? I am afraid even more now. * * * The Kahn fights the God almost immediately. A crowd is gathered, watching every move they make. The Kahn's blows strike hard and fast, yet he is often caught unaware, like me. The God strikes quietly, swiftly, and often. It is not enough. The Kahn all but cripples him with a few deadly strokes. The God lies on the ground, disgraced, and the Kahn advances slowly. Every step of the way, he hurls insults and threats. I suddenly remember to look at the Kahn now, and see a soul clearly in him for the first time. He is fully here, and fully in bloodlust. His virtues are gone. I cannot risk waiting to see if they return. My life is lost if I do. I must save the Kahn somehow, must show him that he has gone too far. I know how. Quickly, I step from the shadows of the courtyard. The Kahn does not hear me, is too intent upon the God. The crowd waits quietly for the next move. I walk up behind the Kahn, and reach out to grab him with two hands. Now he notices me, and yells for his guards. I have caught him, though, and will not be stopped. With one swift tug, I wrench his neck around until it looks at me. A soft gurgle escapes the Kahn's throat, and he falls forward, head still grotesquely facing up. The guards stop, and stare at me. Everyone stares at me. Nobody speaks. I tear my attention away from them, and carefully pick the Kahn's body up. All eyes continue to watch as I walk away, still carrying it. * * * Some of the tournament fighters who live approach me, but I turn them all away. I want nothing from them. This palace is still my home, and shall always be. Now, everyone is gone. The palace is quiet but for my footsteps, and the sound of the wind blowing from the Wastelands. My lord Kahn's body rests on his throne, now looking as he did in life. I make sure so. The Kahn understood. He must have. He taught me my virtues. And so, I serve him still. I keep watch over him, and the palace, and shall do so forever. For if the Kahn returns to his body, if he sees me he may remember again. He may remember loyalty. He may remember the most important virtue of all. (scrawled signature) KINTARO. -- Disclaimer. Criticism welcome. Comments welcome. Flames ignored. This is a totally independent work, and not concurrent with anything else out there. (Thpt!) -- "We made it, Tim! Tim? ...Tim? Anybody seen Tim?"