[Flashback] Pit Out of Luck (Solo)

by **Kro** on September 21st, 2010, 3:32 am

Music:

Time Stamp: 25th day, Spring , 504 AV
Location: The Blood Pits

Deep within the confines of the most gruesome, sinful, heartless place in all of Sunberth, the tall Eypharian stood strong on the blood spattered surface of the dirt arena. His eyes gleamed as his looked over his opponent. Facing him was a rather gaunt male Zith, called Bones by the locals. The creature was nearly as tall as Kro himself, holding a large scythe in his hands. His mouth curled into a devilish grin, his yellow eyes glaring at Kro, before slashing towards the him with the long weapon. The Eypharian's right tiger hook sword swung beneath the scythe, a loud clang ringing through the room, mixing with the blood curdling screams of the crowd.

Kro then caught just beneath the blade, along the wooden staff with each hook of his of his swords, trapping it in position, as his other hands began to slam 4 hands slammed forward, each crashing into the ribs and waist of the creature, a rush of relieve running through Kro's body. The Zith screamed out in pain, feeling the power of Krysus, pain surging through him, causing him to let go of the weapon, before spreading his wings, swiftly flying backwards, escaping Kro's reach. The Zith then removed a pair of daggers from the hosters of his belt, before charging forward towards the six armed creature.

Kro rolled to his right, just barely missing the feel of a sharp jagged blade against his back. The Eypharian stood ready with his Tiger Claw Swords firmly in hand, waiting for the Zith's next move. The Zith looked down to crow menacingly, as he flew above, calling downward, "This isn't a place for you, pretty boy, but I am more than happy to make it your tomb!" the creature, Bones called out. Kro was barely able to hear the Zith above the roaring crowds, but heard enough. He scowled at the Zith, before speaking out in his low raspy tone. "Do you plan on fighting me, or do you just wish to flutter in the sky like a coward?" He said, with an equally exaggerated grin, his brows arching, as his grip tightened on his weapons. He grinded his teeth in anticipation.

Finally the creature zoomed downwards, slashing towards Kro in a wild frenzy. The Zith stabbed towards him, only to have 2 hands beneath grab up against the wrists of the creature, squeezing, as his bottom hands continuously slammed towards the torso of the winged killer once more, as his upper hands slashed wildly at the Zith's neck, leaving cut after cut against it's blue furred flesh, small droplets of blood decorating the already red ground. Kro let out a loud merciless laugh, as surges of unbearable pain flowed through Bones. With one swift move he then cut off the creatures wings, causing blood to spurt out like fireworks. "Try flying away now coward," Kro said as he glared down to the creature, before tossing him against the ground, narrowing his eyes, ready to strike the opponent once more, the crowd screaming his name now, "Kro! Kro! Kro!"

by **Kro** on September 21st, 2010, 4:53 am

The Zith rose up to his feet, wincing in absolute pain. the blood covered stubs against his back throbbed in complete agony. He dashed over towards the scythe, picking it up once more, before slashing towards Kro once more, this time slicing the Eypharian's flesh, leaving a moderate wound between his his top and middle abdomen muscles. Blood rolled down Kro's stomach, coating his bottom abs in the gooey red substance. He cringed, knowing that the strike would definitely leave a scar on his otherwise well maintained skin. The Zith swung for another hit, only to have this strike blocked by the steel of his right hook sword, as he sent a hard elbow into his guts, causing the creature to fall backwards several feet. Kro then lunged forward, before pressing his foot against the Bones chest, looking down to him with a sinister stare, as if to say "you are doomed."

The creature managed to swing his right foot upwards, giving a swift kick to Kro's back, making him fall forward. The Zith slipped out from under the six armed beast, before taking a combat stance, his hands in ready position. Kro slid his weapons back into their holsters, taking his brawling stance, as he eyed down the Zith once more, looking him over, his heart beat racing, as that same feeling of anticipation returned, the hairs at the back of his neck slowly raising up. The now wingless creature charged forward to attack, but the incredible pain that was amplified by the blessing of Krysus herself weighed down the Zith, giving Kro the advantage. His top forearm soon found it's place slamming against the blue gaunt face.

Each fist of and arm found place after place to fully impact the body of the Bones. The fact this Zith was still standing was amazing, but Kro had no time to ponder miracles. Finally Bones fell against the floor, heaving his body was now nothing but a bloody mess. The crowd cheered for death, as the Zith kept trying to get up to his feet, only to fall back down into the crimson puddle beneath him. Kro answered their cries, sliding his right Tiger Hook Sword from it's sheath before lower it down to Bones neck, pulling his head up by his hair, before whispering into his ear, "My tomb is yours, Zith," before sliding the metal against the soft neck, breaking through the windpipe and jugular vein, the slimy red liquid gushing out, giving the floors of the pit yet another coat of red paint, leaving a brutal masacre of a mess, which was quite a regularity here.

An air of relieve washed over Kro, as all of his pain faded away, except for the wound on his waist. He grumbled, aggravated more by the definite future of scaring, than the current pain... He could handle this pain, for it was nothing compared to what he often felt. The most comforting thought was that he bought himself more time. He cracked his neck, as the cheering washed over him. He pushed his way through the crowd, ready to rest, knowing that he would have to fight again all too soon. He had become a regular at the pits, and has had luck.... so far. As arrogant as Kro could be, he was not delusional. He knew that every time he walked into that horrid place it was just another gamble, but it was a gamble he needed to take, and he had long since decided that even as horrible a death as the pits could offer, it was nothing compared to the misery he would suffer if he failed in his duties to Goddess, Krysus.

by **Kro** on September 21st, 2010, 2:35 pm

Location: Kro's Tent, Just Outside of Sunberth

That night Kro stirred in his tent. His body twisting and turning, as old memories haunted his dreams. His mind flashed back to when he was but a boy in Ahnatep, living among the society of Eypharians. "Look at this little rat," Kro recalled one boy saying, as he moved in closer. "You're father might have been a jackal, but your mother is nothing but a whore." another boy shouted out to a young Kro. The young Eypharian's blood began to boil at the comments of his own kind. He closed his eyes, biting down on his bottom lip, as the mockery surrounded him. How vicious youth could be. Like wild wolves, he thought, but then he thought that was not very fair to wolves.

"Don't talk that way about my mother," the young Kro grumbled. In his tent, he was now thrashing back and forth, entirely submerged in this nightmare. His mind recalling the event in it's entirely. How the boys beat him down that day, the pain of hit after hit. If only he had known then how much pain he would have in his future. He was left in the sand, crying, humiliated, his body rolling back and forth, as he gasped for air. Kro let out a great roar of anguish in mid sleep, shaking his own tent, as the memories took their merciless toll once more. How he use to want to track down them both, and make them pay. However he could not at the time. He was below them in status, and would have been shunned if had done such a thing.

Finally Kro awoke, flailing wildly, still consumed with an old hidden hatred that burned inside of him. It was still late in the night, and he heard a rustling outside of the tent. He slowly made his way up to his feet, stealthily making his way outside of the tent to inspect the disturbance. He spotted a human rummaging through his possessions. The Eypharian gradually crept forward, unarmed and unarmored. He moved in behind the thief, before speaking, "Leave it, or die, fool" The bandit turned his head to Kro with a wicked scowl, and with one quick move, the bandit lunged forward at Kro with dagger in hand, the blade pointed to his wound. Kro just barely caught the thief's arm in time, gripping it with 2 of his bottom hand, slowly twisting it as his the four fists above began to mercilessly strike against the human. Each hit hurting more than even the thief's blade could, the power of vexation amplifying the pain over and over again.

The Eypharian then took the bandit by his throat into is top left hand, slowly raising him upward, squeezing against the soft neck, as Kro gave a fearsome roar, causing the bandit to drop his dagger in pure fear. He gulped, before pleading for mercy. "My apologies, Sir... I am just so desperate for food and miza. I have not eaten in days." A soft expression slowly came across Kro's face, giving a gentle smile to the strange, before whispering in a low tone, "Well then.... allow me to put you out of your misery, bandit," before applying full force against the neck, causing a loud pop of the windpipe, a gritty crack of the vertebrae, and an ear splitting scream. "I spare no food or miza on armed bandits." he said, before dragging the corpse into the wilderness for the wolves to feast upon. There was nothing Kro despised more than a thief. He had no use for the cowards.

by **Kro** on September 21st, 2010, 5:04 pm

When Kro got back to the tent, he needed to burn off the frustration caused by the thief, so he dealt with it the same way he usually dealt with it, by working his body. He placed his body against the ground, first using his top two arms to hold himself up, before letting his torso lower downwards, holding position, and then pushing himself ups. He continued to do these "push-ups," one after the next, counting them out each time, "1.... 2..... 3.... 4..." He continued until he reached 50, and then switched to his middle arms, which proved to be slightly more difficult do to weight distribution. Once he was finished with the middle arms, he finally got to the bottom arms, which was the most difficult of all, pushing upward with all of his might each time, his arms flaring with pain, as he worked them to their maximum potential.

Once Kro was finished he moved on to a new exercise, which involved him laying on his back, and continuously sitting upwards, while keeping form, each time proving to be slightly more challenging than the last, feeling his abdomen muscles contract and tighten with each one. His wound burned with pain now more than ever at the pulling and crunching motion. He gasped out in pain, but continued to work his body, letting no muscle go untended. Kro believed that proper fitness was the difference between a fighter and a warrior. Anyone can fight, but not anyone can truly craft their bodies for war, if the need were to arise. Kro thought of himself as a warrior, though many saw him as more of a killer. In all honesty, Kro really didn't see the difference. He believed that killing was killing no matter the purpose.

After his exercise, Kro scouted out for a flat rock. About half an hour later he found the perfect one. He brought it back to his tent, before taking his swords in hand, sharpening the edge with the rock, letting it scrape against the surface, shaping the edge, until it was sharp enough to remove a pick pockets neck in a single strike. He ran a single finger tip along the edge of the blade, causing a small droplet of blood to drop outwards, splashing against the soil of the ground beneath. He gave a self-satisfied smirk, and whispered out "Perfect," before moving on to the next one. He made sure to sharpen both of the hooks and the outer handles as-well. The Eypharian then grabbed his gear, bringing it inside of the tent, where it would be safer.

Kro finally laid back down on his bedding, pulling his blanket up over his wounded torso. He was hoping that the wound would heal quickly, because he knew that he would most likely have to fight in the pits the next day. Risking his life night after night, only to get his daily kill. He understood that it could just as easily be him dead on that floor someday, but he was willing to take that chance. He would rather wind up as pit decoration than he would as a victim of Krysus herself. He wrapped himself up tight, letting his body slowly fade back into sleep. His eyes fluttering shut, and his every muscle beginning to relax. His two freshly sharpened hook swords set next to him, by his bedding. He felt more comfortable this way. Especially after his run in with the thief. He was mostly concerned with his possessions and miza. He wasn't entirely sure if he truly valued his life anymore, or if he was just trying to escape the horrible pain that could very well catch up to him in time. All he knew was that if he wanted to be able to continue to fight, he would need his rest, so he let night's embrace whisk him back into slumber.

by **Kro** on September 24th, 2010, 3:42 am

Time Stamp: 26th day, Spring , 504 AV
Location: The Drunken Fish

The next day, as the sun began to go down, Kro was in a boisterous bar on the far side of the city, which seemed to cater to crew men of the sea. Kro was sipping on a cheap ail, letting the taste resinate within his mouth. He was already beginning to feel the chest pains caused by his strange mark. He looked to his right hand, staring at the beat red veins along it, as he slowly shook his head. Why did he have to be chosen? He loved his power, but hated the curse that came with it. Why of all people, was he chosen. He had no idea what would have possessed the goddess, Krysus to choose him. He gripped all the tighter on the handle of his pint, knowing that he would soon have to go to the pits again, as he did most nights. It was a dangerous life, but it was his life, and he knew that in the end he would never be the powerful warrior he desired to be without some risk.

Kro pondered what his life might be like if he had never been born with this mark. He would most likely still be in Ahnatep he thought. Maybe he would have been married by now, he wondered. He could not picture himself with a wife and child. No, not this Kro. Maybe another from another world, but not this Kro, he thought. Beside Kro sat a woman, crying into her mug. She wore a black cloak, with her hood up, and had long dark chestnut hair that almost covered her face entirely. He turned his head to her, raising a brow. Sadness was not a foreign thing to Kro. He saw it often growing up, as did he see from a fair amount of his victims through the years, but for some reason he could not help but feel some pity for this human. He narrowed his eyes, as he observed her. She was holding a locket in her hands, as she leaned over her drink, trying her best to hide her crying.

Finally the otherwise insensitive Eypharian felt himself pulled in towards the bait. He leaned over towards her, before whispering in his deep raspy voice, "Is something wrong, human?" He could not quite believe his own words as they came from his mouth. Was this truly him? He was having trouble believing it himself. He cleared his throat, as she looked to him with her glistening emerald eyes. She held the locket tight to her heart, seeming almost unable to speak, tears rolling down her cheeks. She slowly pushed the locket towards Kro. He took it with his left hand, hiding his right from vision, before opening it up, to see an oddly familiar face. Inside the locket was the picture of the thief he had killed the night before. He could not believe it. He felt somewhat guilty. This too was a new feeling for him. He cleared his throat. "This is your husband," he asked.

She gave a slow nod, as a single tear dropped into her drink. "He has gone missing, hasn't he?" Kro asked, as he tilted his head to the right. She nodded once more, seeming unable to speak. Perhaps she was too depressed to even speak. "If he is gone, he is in a far better world than this dirt filled city, human," he said, trying to comfort her. He could not help but find all of this odd. She gave Kro a soft smile before wiping away her tears from a small tissue she grasped from beneath her cloak. Kro bit down on his bottom lip before whispering to her, "What is your name, human?" The woman reached into her cloak, before revealing a quill, and a small jar of ink. She dipped the ink into the jar and wrote out onto the tissue, "Kalana." She then handed the tissue to the Eypharian. He read it over, and then looked back to her. "Greetings Kalana. I am Kro," he said with a small smile.

by **Kro** on September 24th, 2010, 6:15 pm

Kalana looked into Kro's eyes, returning the soft smile. Kro was perplexed. Why would such a beautiful human choose such a cowardly thief for a mate? Perhaps she did not know of his mischievous past time, or perhaps they had children to feed, but whatever the reason, Kro could not bring himself to regret his decision to kill him. If Kro desired something he would just kill the target, and take the valuables, and in this case it seemed to be a beautiful woman named Kalana. A small strand of hair draped over the sparkling green iris of her left eye. He moved out his top right hand to move the hair from her face, but as he did, his markings were revealed. Her face filled with fright, before jumping back off her stool. Kro knew that if she could scream she would have. The woman imedately ran from out of the bar, running through the drunken crowd, and out into the city streets.

Kro tried to chase after her, but lost her before she even made it out of the bar. He clenched his fists, looking toward his pulp red hand, before letting out a horrible scream, his face and body reddening with anger. His chest now pounded with agonizing pains. He knew that he would never have someone to call his own. Perhaps this was the great balance coming back to him. He grabbed his right hand with his two middle hands, pressing the hand against the outer wall of the tavern. He slowly slid out one of his twin tiger hook swords with his left hand, readying it as he looked at the beat red veins. "What have I become?" he asked himself. How he wanted to chop off that hand, but he couldn't. Not for pain's sake, but he was unable to part with the power. It meant too much to him, and had driven him to the point he was at today. Good or bad, he knew that the essence of Krysus herself burned deep within his soul.

It was possible that Krysus herself was playing with his mind, making him truly love and hate his fate. The large Eypharian cried out once more, before putting his blade back in his sheath. He could not bring himself from departing with the power, or falling from the favor of Krysus. He knew that a life with his Goddess as an enemy would be even more of a suffering torment than this life with her as his worshiped deity. He knew that he must serve her admirably if he were to ever truly reach his goal of power, despite this horrible curse. He turned his body, leaning his back against the building, looking out at the docks, as he let out a slow sigh. He pressed his hands against his chest, clinging tightly to the overly familiar pain. This was the path he had chosen, and it was the path he knew could lead him to greatness. "I pray to my Goddess, Krysus. May pain and misery wash over this land. I am your vessel of destruction, and from these six hands of mine, hatred shall flow," he spoke lowly to himself.

The Eypharian knew exactly where he had to go next. He had to return to the most ruthless of places. He had to go back to the pit. Filled by his rage and the pain that drove him, he felt more than confident in tonight's kill. He would make the death of the Zith look like a tea party compared to his plans for tonight. He did not care who he would meet in the pit. He was ready for blood. His body pulsed with anger, letting it fuel him, along with the burning pain in his chest. He could not let today's events distract him from his overall mission. He had sacrificed too much to be stopped by his emotions. He knew he could overcome his own emotions, as he knew he could overcome the pain. He finally stood back up from leaning against the wall, before cracking his neck, and letting out a dark chuck, thinking to himself, "I'm ready."

by **Kro** on September 26th, 2010, 3:11 am

Location: The Blood Pits

Kro heard the family screaming and cheering for blood, as he entered the hot chaos death arena known as the blood pits. He gritted his teeth, before stretching out his body at the ready for whatever might come his way... So he thought. It was at that moment a strange figure came out from the crowd, dressed head from toe in white, holding what looked to be a thin bone-crafted short bow. It's skin was an ashy white, and it's claws were a dark hopeless black. From beneath it's hood glowed two bright blood red irises. It let out a deathly laugh. and as Kro charged forward, the figure disappeared from sight. A confused Eypharian twisted and turned, looking around for his opponent, but could not spot it in view, until finally his gaze caught the vision of a white blur.An angry Kro sliced toward the blur, only to miss. Then he felt a sharp pain against his thigh. He reached down, gripping an arrow,as he stumbled.

He grunted as he pulled out the arrow. Whatever this creature was, it was faster than anyone the Eypharian had ever crossed paths with before. This strange being was beginning to make the Zith seem like killing a mere rodent. Suddenly he felt another arrow strike him, in his shoulder, causing a searing pain to embrace him. Between his new wounds and the pain caused by his own mark, Kro was in pure agony, and became all the more angry as the pain grew within him. He narrowed his eyes, slashing in a frenzy through the blur that surrounded him. He bit down on his bottom lip, until small trickles of blood leaked from it. He slashed as fast as he could, throwing his fists every which way, but still the blur out-maneuvered him, and sent yet another arrow into him, reopening the wound from his battle the previous night. He roared out in pain, yanking out a third arrow. This was far from his usual challenge, but Kro could not lose faith in his power, and his abilities.

The Eypharian needed to execute one of the greatest Tiger Hook Sword techniques. He let out a loud laugh, hooking the swords together by their hooks, doubling his range, before lashing out, spinning the sword in an inescapable tornado of blades. Finally Kro heard a wild shriek. The creature laid on the ground, holding it's bloody chest. The figure of white was now drenched in the red of it's own blood. Kro stepped on both arms of the fallen creature, easily breaking them in half. "You are brittle," the Eypharian noted. He leaned down, removing it's mask, to show the pail humanoid face of the man. The creature was yelping in pain, but it had not given up. Kro did not realize that this man had one last trick up his sleeve. As Kro looked down into his eyes, he began to lose himself in a sense. Soon he saw flashes of his own blade.... inside of him. Kro's right hand began to move down towards his right hook sword, gripping the weapon tightly, as the image continued to flash in his mind, each more persuasive than the last, feeling somewhat drawn to this... to end his own life, to rid himself of the curse of Krysus once and for all. He moved the sword up to his chest, as the pail creature let out a deep laugh.

"Do it," commanded the symenestra. Kro gave a slow nod, before finally thrusting his blade against soft flesh... into the pail creature's neck, as it let out an ear splitting scream, slitting the neck from right to left until the man had no head to speak of. The strange white figure now laid dead and defeated at his feet. Kro leaned down, before whispering out, "You are out of luck, you pathetic thing." The crowed cheered as the bloody, pain-filled victor held the loser's head high in the air, like a trophy of death. He then threw it to the ground, as he stormed out from the pit. He made it out, feeling the crisp air of the dirty city, brush against his blood soaked skin. He walked, feeling the pain of his curse leaving him once more. However the pain of his wounds throbbed mercilessly, as he neared the drunken fish once more. He felt his body slowly losing strength, before falling to the ground, against the stone of the building, his eyes slowly shutting, all going dark around him. There he lied, battered and bruised in one of the most dangerous cities in the Sylira's region. Perhaps he was the one truly out of luck...

by **Kro** on September 26th, 2010, 11:42 pm

Time Stamp: 27th day, Spring , 504 AV
Location: Unknown Residence in Sunberth

An old memory slowly moved it's way into Kro's dreams, as he faded into darkness. He remembered the Jackal captain screaming out to the troops of Eypharians, all ready with arms. He had a glint in his eye that day, ready to prove to all of his race what he was more than just the strange scarred child. That he was more than his bazaar markings. Little did he know at the time that the marking would help him in his long term goal to prove himself. He wanted to be the best Jackal warrior Ahnatep had ever seen, and he was ready. The Jackal Captain called his name out. Little did the Captain know that Kro's body was wrenched in pain, his every limb aching, as he readied his the two swords he held. In the back of Kro's mind he heard a familiar cheering, "Kro, Kro, Kro, Kro," like the cheering from the pits he would visit in time.

As the dreaming Kro lunged forward in his mind, he felt a shaking, as a voice came out louder, "Kro, Kro, Kro!" The Eypharian finally snapped awake to see a stranger hovering over him. It was a human man, who dressed in greens and browns from head to toe, with long white hair to his mid-back. "Hello, Kro. I am Kalana's friend, Doctor Zebadiah Heart. She found you outside the Drunken Fish, and quickly got me. Do you understand? You are lucky to know such a gracious woman as her. Getting you here certainly was not an easy task. It took myself, and my 3 sons just to get you here. You must rest Kro. These wounds need time to heal. I have done what I can do for them, but they just need time." The man said, obviously wanting to explain all to the large six armed man before he might think he was kidnapped. Last thing this Doctor Heart needed was this large creature rampaging through his home.

"Time!" Kro shouted out. "I don't have time, human! Once these wounds have healed, more shall break, unless I continue to fight. I need to cause pain. I need to kill." Then a figure entered from the adjacent room. The Eypharian immediately recognized the person... "Kalana," he spoke, as his eyes looked to her, giving an unusual slight smile to her. His body began to relax, as he felt a slight headache, rubbing his head. "It's already begun," he said to the doctor, rubbing his head, as he gave a groan. Kalana moved forward, her bright emerald eyes looking down to him, as she returned the smile. She moved her hands to his large top right hand, slowly bringing it up to her lips, kissing the red veined hand softly, as if to say she was no longer afraid. Maybe Kro was not out of luck after all, he thought to himself. He then moved the hand to her right cheek, moving it against the soft flesh, knowing that he could never reveal the true reason for his husbands death.

That night Kro spent close to Kalana, holding her with three of his arms on his right side, as she closed her eyes, pressing her head against his strong chest. He had never felt this way before. This was something entirely new. He was raised to see humans and all non-Eypharian races as lesser beings, but this was now how he felt about Kalana at all. Sadly he knew that he would have to leave soon, possibly later that night even. He knew that he would need to fight, or he would be dead in a matter of a couple days. His chest was now beginning to fill with pain as well, as if his body was nothing but a ticking clock entirely under the control of Krysus. He could not help but think to himself, "am I weak? Does this new feeling make me less of a warrior?" He closed his eyes, and slowly let his mind fall back into slumber, the medicinal power of Doctor Heart's handy work working through out the night. Kro did not know how well he would be the next day, but he knew he would have to cause pain sometime soon...

by **Kro** on September 27th, 2010, 2:14 am

Later into the night, the dreams returned to Kro. His body shook softly, with Kalana in his grasp. His mind flashed to his training once more. He recalled his blades slashing with those of the captain's. He remembered how the other Eypharian's watched as he sparred with Jackal Captain. He remembered how invigorating the first strike was, and how a deep hunger within him urged him to slash again and again. As if his urge had complete control over his body, he mercilessly stabbed and slashed the Captain until he was dead on the ground. Kro twisted and turned all the more in the bed now, Kalana stroking comfortably against his bare chest, trying to settle him down as much as she could. Kro recalled the glares he received from the shocked onlookers. The most surprising expression was that of Kro's only friend, Harskah who stood there with a lone smirk on his face. Kro could not understand at the time why Harskah would have such an expression. Little did he know that his so called friend was jealous of Kro's success, and wanted nothing more than for Kro to lose control.

That grin haunted Kro's mind. If he ever saw Harskah again, he would give him something to really smile about. Finally Kro awoke once more, his eyes looking around the room. It was still late in the night. Near his bed was a good meal of cooked rabbit and greens. Kro chowed down on the rabbit, eating every last bite. He did not realize how hungry he was. He savored the flavor, before attempting to eat the greens, but as often was the case for Kro, he simply could not bring himself to eat his vegetables. He slowly slid out of bed, being careful not to wake Kalana, or Doctor Heart who was most likely sleeping in an adjacent room. Kro slowly stretched out his body, before searching for his armor and weapons. The pain was already great, and the Eypharian really didn't want to wait until it was agonizing. He finally found his Tiger Hook Swords and Scale Mail tucked away in the corner. He put on the armor, cringing slightly as it brushed against the bandages that dressed his wounds. Kro then took his weapons in hand, holding them in front of himself, with a self satisfied smile. He then turned towards Kalana, leaning downward, giving a soft kiss to her lips as she slept. "Be well, beautiful Kalana," he whispered.

He made his way out of the dwelling, being careful not to shut the door too loudly. He then turned the corner, heading into the alley way. He then stretched his body out once more, before getting down on his back to do his sitting up exercises once more. He bit down on his lip each time, feeling the pain of his wound throb, only to be complimented by the strain of his chest pains, but he would not stop. He felt his body burn, as he heard the whispering of thieves and low lives all around him. He did not care. He had no fear of the alley rats, and was rather sure they had a good amount of fear of him. Finally he reached his 50th sit-up, with a grunt. He then turned his body over, holding out each arm, pushing as hard as he could to work his arms and chest. As always, the Eypharian was very focused with keeping a strong body, as well as bettering his skills every day. Kro truly was a creature of improvement, and he did everything he could to improve himself to his absolute peak. Finally he had finished his 50th push-up, and was more than ready to head to the pits. He had no idea might be waiting for him, but he was ready. Little did he know, however, that just around the corner stood an old familiar face.

Kro had suddenly ran into a group of Eypharian's, all dressed in fine steel armor, each holding a medley of different weapons. The one that stood out the most, was the tallest, dressed in the best of threads. His eyes narrowed on Kro, as he spoke out. "It has been a long time, my old friend. That's right... It is I, Harskah, or as you can now call me, Captain. When I first heard the rumor of a great Eypharian Sunberth pit fighter with strange dark veins on his hand, I almost couldn't believe my ears, and decided this would be the perfect feather in my cap." He gave out a deep laugh, as he glared at Kro. "Ahhh what is the matter Kro? Are you a little speechless? Haven't you missed your old friend, Harskah?" He laughed all the more wildly, before a great silence passed over the alley. "Oh, you have nothing to say to me do you? Well... maybe this will get you talking..." He said as another Jackal soldier came around from the corner Kro had entered, with a dead figure slumped over his shoulder. The soldier dropped down the figure only to reveal a face that had Kro in shock... There lay a dead Kalana against the alley floor before Kro's feet. "You see we have been observing you for quite some time now Kro." The Eypharian was silent, as a great anger, unknown to him grew inside. He could barely hear the words of Harskah now, as he looked down to the fallen beauty.

by **Kro** on September 27th, 2010, 5:50 am

Kro screamed out, as anger fueled him now. The closest thing he ever knew to love was now lying dead on the floor. He lunged forward towards the guard who had carried Kalana, and with a single slash, separated him from his head, gaining all the more time from Krysus without even thinking. The other two Jackal soldiers grabbed a hold of Kro, pinning him against the nearest cobble stone wall, as Captain Harskah's laughs filled the alleyway. "You are just an animal, Kro. That's all you were and it's all you ever will be. You deserve to die like the wild beast you are." The captain slid his right scimitar from it's sheath, before aiming it towards his old 'friend's' throat. He slowly pressed forward, a small drop of blood exiting the neck, as the large Eypharian shook with pain.

Finally he screamed out, "I might be a beast, but you are a coward, Harskah. You know that if it wasn't for my strange mark I would be wearing that uniform instead of you. I was always a better warrior than you." The Captain's jaw dropped from such an insult. He took a step back, glaring at Kro, looking straight into his eyes. He slowly let down his weapon, before sliding it back into his sheath. He began to pace back and forth the alleyway, not taking his eyes off from Kro for a single moment. He gritted his teeth, as he considered the words. Finally the Captain cracked his neck and arms, as Kro often does, before turning his back. Then there was a breif moment of silence, as the jackals grip began to loosen. "What, Harskah? Does the truth hurt? You know every last word is true. I have always been a better fighter than you!"

"Enough!" the Captain yelled out. "You really think you could possibly defeat the Captain of the Jackals, the greatest warriors Eyktol has to offer? I think not!" He then looked to the two soldiers holding Kro, before calling out, "Let him go. I need to teach this beast his place!" The soldiers reluctantly did as they were commanded. As soon as they did, two of Kro's arms came around their head, before literally knocking them together, causing them both to fall to the ground. Harskah just shook his head, as he unsheathed both of his scimitars, before speaking in a sharp tone, "You remember how we used to play fighter in Ahnatep as youth? I just thought you should know one thing Kro... I always let you win." He then charged forward, slashing towards Kro's neck. Kro blocked with his hook swords, gripping each weapon beneath the hilt with the hooks, and with a firm yank causing the weapons to fling from the captain's hands through the alley.

Harskah just laughed before taking a Jackal issue combat stance, a combat that Kro was well familiar with. Kro slashed forward with his hook sword, only to have each strike miss, as the captain swurved and dodged, throwing low punches into his gut, right against the treated wound. Kro grunted in pain, before throwing a trip kick beneath Harskah, causing him to fall to the ground. Once he landed, Kro sent both of his blades down against the so called friend's neck, letting him die a slow agonizing bloody death. "Drown in your own blood, coward." The dying Eypharian grabbed at his own neck as he twisted and turned, knowing he was not long for this world. He tried to shriek own, but could only give a deathly gargle. Once the captain was dead, Kro moved towards Kalana's body. He knelt down, as a rare tear dropped from his left cheek. He held her up close to his body. This was always the way it seemed. If he let himself get close to anyone they would always suffer. His curse seemed to be their curse. He held her tight as he whispered into her ear, "I love you Kalana. In the end you were the one who ran out of luck, not me. I will remember you always." It was just another sad memory to always stick with Kro...

-The End-