| From: | Erik Jameson <erikj@****.COM> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | A lesson in magic |
| Date: | Wed, 17 Jun 1998 20:28:45 -0400 |
don’t know the answers.
+++++begin video
A moderately sized, nearly empty warehouse. Several spotlights have been
hung from the metal crossbeams in the roof, creating a bright pool of light
in the middle of the gray concrete floor.
In this middle of this circle of light is a large troll. His skin is a
deep chocolate brown and muscles ripple across his exposed arms. He wears
a plain white tank top and baggy jeans; a vast green athlete’s jacket lies
just on the edge of the light. On his right hand is a mass of gold and
diamonds; a football championship ring. His large left shoulder sports a
similarly large green and yellow “G” that is the symbol of the Green Bay
Packers, winners of the 2054 football Super Bowl. His other equally
massive shoulder sports several scars, what look like deliberate slashes,
done neat and even. Probably intentional. A long scar runs down his back
from this shoulder to the bottom of his rib cage. Probably not
intentional. What is most noticeable about this troll however is the
unique set of horns atop his plain head. The two normal horns have grown
mostly straight upwards, almost like a minotaur’s. But what is most
strange is the central, third horn that rises almost like a unicorn’s horn,
projecting nearly straight out from just above his forehead.
This odd and frightening troll paces like a caged beast within the pool of
light.
From out of the darkness, a voice wafts it’s way to the troll and the camera.
“You wouldn’t happen to be waiting for me, would you BigDaddy?”
The troll, who must be BigDaddy, freezes in his tracks and turns with a
deep throaty growl to face the voice. “You’re a half-hour late Stranger.
Fuckin’ get lost, pinkie?”
You can hear a light chuckling from the darkness. “Actually I’ve been here
watching you for several hours now. Your little dwarf mage setting up a
little ward, you busy checking the doors and flexing your muscles. And me,
watching the whole time. Quite amusing. Please, why don’t you hit that
‘most muscular’ pose for me one more time?” The arrogance is obvious in
the voice.
BigDaddy growls, a deep guttural sound. “Come on dickless. I can still
see you in the dark you little shit. Or didn’t you know that about trolls?”
He backs up to allow the Dark Stranger entry into the lit circle.
Underneath the charcoal gray overcoat you see his usual attire of custom
tailored business suits. His normally attractive face is marred by a feral
grin.
“Of course not. I thought it might make a more dramatic appearance for the
camera you placed in the steel girders above us.” He looks right at the
camera. “I suppose I’ll have to wait until the replay to see if it worked,
won’t I?”
Hoping that he is distracted by speaking to the camera, BigDaddy launches
into a silent bull rush, like a linebacker barreling right at an
unprotected quarterback. With a blur, the Dark Stranger ducks and rolls
out of the way, standing up and in a combat stance before BigDaddy is able
to stop and return to the circle of light.
There’s hatred in the Dark Stranger’s eyes. “Well now, look. You’ve
gotten my coat dirty. I don’t like dirty clothes.”
BigDaddy starts another bull rush, then thinks better of it and cautiously
moves forward towards the well dressed human. With an obvious *snick!* a
long spur pops out of it’s hiding place along BigDaddy’s right forearm.
“Got something for ya, breeder. Time for pop goes the pinkie!”
Taking advantage of his naturally longer limbs, BigDaddy quickly closes the
gap and swings at the air where the Dark Stranger once was. Another duck
and roll sent him off to the side this time, into the shadows at the edge
of the light. Quickly he stands and begins to back away, opening distance
between him and the troll. A feral look of sheer hatred and ferocity has
destroyed his handsome features and turned him into something ugly,
something terrible.
His lips begin to move, mumbling something. BigDaddy’s eyes open wide,
realizing what must be coming. He breaks into a rush, attempting to close
the gap and hit the Dark Stranger before the spell can go off.
Too late.
The Dark Stranger’s head contorts like he is vomiting and pure blackness
erupts from his open mouth, streaking forward faster than the unaugmented
eye can track, slamming into the black troll, wrapping it’s inky tentacles
around BigDaddy. A yellow glow goes off beneath his white shirt. It
appears as if the tentacles are being absorbed by a glowing charm beneath
his white shirt, which burns away as the spell washes over his body.
Then as quickly as it came, it is gone. BigDaddy has been halted in his
tracks and numerous blisters have erupted all across his exposed skin and
blood trickles freely down his nose. The Dark Stranger’s feral face is now
glistening with sweat.
Despite his wounds, BigDaddy doesn’t seem to be as slowed by them as much
as he should. In fact, it takes only a moment for the nose bleed to stop.
Still twitching, BigDaddy replies "Thought I wasn't comin prepared for your
Mojo-crap, eh breeder?"
The troll grins. “Is that the best you can do breeder? I felt worse after
training camp.”
You’re honestly not sure if that’s pure bravado or if that’s the truth.
But the Dark Stranger never wavers, never takes his eyes off the well
muscled troll. “No it wasn’t trog. Must give the camera a good fight you
know. Otherwise you’d have been dead before you had a chance to hang it,”
he sneers.
Quickly they both close the distance between each other, the Dark Stranger
ducking and weaving and rolling with the blows as they are rained down by
BigDaddy. After nearly a minute of this, it become obvious that the Dark
Stranger is merely toying with the troll. His offense is nothing more than
slapping at the troll, light taps that serve only to remind BigDaddy how
open he is.
Finally the arrogance costs the Dark Stranger and BigDaddy catches his left
arm with the cyberspur, slicing through the overcoat and the jacket,
cutting into the human’s arm. For barely a moment, the Dark Stranger wears
a mask of disbelief, then the pure hatred replaces it. Several long
exchanges of blows ensue, with the Dark Stranger drawing himself ever
closer to the troll, until he has finally worked his way well inside
BigDaddy’s considerable reach. Just as the troll is about to capitalize on
this opportunity, the Dark Stranger drops to one knee and his head again
contorts as if vomiting. A blackness like a pure void erupts and splashes
over the mass of the troll, inky flames licking and tearing at deep
chocolate skin. The yellow glow from the charm around his neck suddenly
pops as the blackness devours the yellow light. The troll looks down at
the smaller human, confused as to what is happening to him as the black
flames vanish.
His body is covered with open bleeding blisters and blood oozes from his
very pores. As he collapses to his knees, the human mage steps up and
away, kicking at the spur that swings lazily in his direction. With a loud
crack, BigDaddy falls backward onto the bare concrete, life only flickering
in his eyes.
The Dark Stranger dusts himself off, and grimaces as he examines the
bleeding wound that the troll gave him. With a few mumbled words, the
wound closes and fresh pink skin is in it’s place. But the coat and suit
are still stained with more blood and his skin is pale.
He walks over to his fallen foe and picks up the right hand and wrestles
the Super Bowl ring off BigDaddy’s large fingers. Almost as an
afterthought he rips the now broken charm from the troll’s neck. For a
moment he looks at it, then tosses it casually into the darkness of the
warehouse.
Only barely can the Dark Stranger be heard as he disappears into the darkness.
“I’ll never forgive your kind for what you did to my family.”
+++++end video]<<<<<
-- Tridiot <05:23:42/06-18-59>
