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[Troika]

OK, this thread will contain any and all stories that are posted on the geocities site and labelled as edited. These babies we don't have to worry about until it actually comes time to stick em in the game.

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[Troika]

Section: Stories

Written by Unknown (niceguy5)

The Black Everest: Part I

Lessons Of Life

“Before you fight, find out what you're fighting for.”

This was a common thing said around the temple. The monks lived by this. "When I was a child I always had a feeling that I was suppose to be fighting for something, but what was I fighting for?" This quote has driven my life, to find a purpose
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My back was against the wall, and it was the biggest mistake of my life. Gangsarr boxed me in, western style but when you pin someone to the wall all you want to do (in order to win) is beat the living hell out of ‘em. But I didn’t blame him. There were no rules in this fight. I tried to keep my guard up but I was getting weary. Left right left right.
My arms were numb now from the hits. I felt pain all over my body; it was as if I was being attacked by a pack of wolves on all sides. I was. I thought I was going to die, to be honest. Beat up to death in this arena…by my best friend too. What a great way to die. There was nothing to do at this point. I threw my
body at him; another stupid mistake. We rolled on the ground. “Ahhhh!” I heard a popping noise. It was Gangsarr. He had dislocated his left arm.

We looked at each other, deep in the eyes. I expected to see a monster, a beast that had ripped out of my friend’s insides and taken control of him. Possessed him. But when I saw his eyes… oh, his soft, cool eyes, I knew he was still there and he was scared. The crowd was cheering; the arena was filled with noise. The monks were off their feet and cheering for us. I smiled. I had to make my final hit count; it had to be the killing blow. I saw Gangsarr’s stance, it was the Cycle of Blood; an old Redguard fighting style. Both my arms came up (symmetrically) to where I could see them, in front of my chest.

I took a deep breath and slowly opened both palms. I took a defensive position. The ancient Rain-of-Sand fighting styles of Elsweyr. Before a battle, Nords yell their best battle cry; they are famous for it. And so was Gangsarr. I was scared as hell and the arena was quiet. “Ahhhhargghh!!!” He was charging at me. My palms were still open. He was running so fast. My feet dug into the wet ground. Here he comes… And then, and then I wasn’t sure what happened next, it was all a blur.

But I found myself looking up into the terrace; the sky was so beautiful. “Dane…” It was Gangsarr’s soft low voice but it sounded so weak so…lost. “Yes?” “You fight like hell brother”. I smiled. All of the long years we shared together in this temple, I never realized we were brothers. From the blood and the sweat to the punches and kicks and from the broken bones and bruises we exchanged. We became brothers. The giant Nord and the skinny Breton. Perfect. I could hear a raucous going about in the stands. The monks were leaving the arena. “Bravo, bravo” Master Zhul knelt before us. “A very good match indeed” He smiled. His face was filled with energy and excitement. I felt so defeated so exhausted Gangsarr felt the same way too I bet. “Master, I –“He placed a finger on his wrinkled lips ‘Ssshhhh” he whispered. I couldn’t see what he was doing but I felt an aura inside and around my body. It was healing me, easing the pain. Did I hit him? Did I hit him? It didn’t matter anymore; it was over. A draw.