Solo Battle of Titians

[Lo'campo]

80th Spring 516 A.V Sunberth

He wasn't afraid, but for some odd reason the scream of an orphan sent a bone chilling shock down his spine. It threw him off being something that he had never experienced in life before. Still the screams meant that it was time to do what he did best. Giving a combined stretch as he rolled out of bed he quickly prepared himself for what was to come. Feet burrowing themselves into boots as hands tied his ground dragging hair up into a sloppy bun. The quick pinch as the needle nipped his finger bringing a droplet of blood running from the tip. He paused for a moment looking at the red speck in disbelief before another scream pulled him back to the task at hand. A quick suck of his finger his hand working his pants buckle. "Lo'campo!" A voice cried out. Damn. He kicked the door open with one foot as his feet thundered through the orphanage.

Down the hall and turning onto another. Why were these halls so petching long? Finishing his top and tightening his sash his robed armor was complete granting him use of his hands. Coming to the stairs he deemed that it would take too long walking down them. Large blue hands gripped the railing. A strong pull and legs were swinging across out into the air as gravity pulled the Akalak down to the ground floor with a thud and roll. Regaining his footing his lakan found his hand. He could hear laughter coming from outside. It wasn't the orphans though, nor any of the adults that came to the building to give the children companionship. This laughter was dark, evil, even murderous. The light surrounding the edge of the doorway quickly became a flood of brightness as he rammed into it with his shoulder sending it flying open. "There's the bastard! Get em!"

There was a figure out in the courtyard. He couldn't tell who or what it was because he was soon met with a large club that appeared out of the corner of his eye. He barely saw it coming as his hands went up to catch the weapon. It had a lot of force behind it. If he hand not tried to block it his chest probably would have been cracked open. The force though did knock him back into the orphanage and onto his back. Petch he was vulnerable. His attempts to try and get up were soon halted by a foot the stomped down onto his chest nearly bringing all of the air out of him. "I told ya that he wasn't that hard to beat! Look at em on the ground ready to meet his maker!" He then came face to face with a crossbow bolt set and aimed right between his eyes.

"Hold of there mate! I say we put him into slavery. Dope em up on drugs break his will." There was a second man though the sunlight made it impossible to see the man behind the voice. "Are ye' foolish boy? This one here is a wild one. He'd never heel. Too violent. Besides we're getting revenge here for Slappy not to make coin. Though we could sell that fancy dagger of his for sometin." His lakan. While the men conversed over what to do with him, Lo'campo reached for his dagger. It had fallen out of his hand when he hit the floor but was just in arms reach. He struggled for it, not wanting to move too much thus gaining attention of the crossbow wielder. The crossbow wiggled a bit which made him freeze up thinking that the weapon was about to go off only to see that it was the man's arm moving in gestures. He gave a stretch first stroking the blade with his fingers before pulling it into his hand that gripped it in anger and vengeance.

"Exactly and that's why we are going to kill-" The man's words were cut off by the sharp pain of Lo'campo's lakan into his calf. A wail was let out as his foot lifted off the Akalak's chest. Lo'campo rolled as the crossbow fired sending a bolt into the floorboard where his head would be. Quickly standing he rushed the man still stumbling trying to gather himself. A flick of the wrist twisted the lakan facing forward for a direct hit into the man's gut. He saw another crossbow being loaded and aimed from outside. Gripping the dying man's shoulder he spun the man around whilst kneeling, using the body as a shield while moving towards the exit. There was the "ping" of crossbows releasing as the man's body shook with each bold entering his back. Blood ran from his mouth dripping onto the Akalak's face as the light began to leave his eyes. The bolts stopped as he stepped outside standing up and tossing the dead body aside like the trash it was.

"Billy!" Another voice called out to his left. It was a younger male if he had to put an age on him he had to be around 15 years of age if not younger. He ran at the blue giant head on with a small knife used for carving. His form was terrible, he was slow, his feet were off balanced, he left himself wide open in many areas that would bring nothing but death, and his weapon of choice was dull as well as a horrible choice in terms of head on combat. This was a joke, but a challenge was a challenge. Turning to face the boy he raised his lakan in acceptance. The boy came in close his arm wide and slow with the carving knife pointed at him. In a movement Lo'campo sent his arm out opposite of the boy's blocking the attack before setting his foot behind his opponents and giving a push. A simple maneuver to put one on their backs. Something that could have been easily countered if the boy knew how to fight. But he didn't which is why he was now looking up at the tip of the Akalaks dagger.

"Theo!" An older female called out running to his aide before stopping short of Lo'campo. A quick look of his surroundings showed that he was surrounded in fact by a number of people. "You're obviously here for a reason. Gang members? Bandits? Assasins?...Stupid?" He began naming things to figure out who exactly these people where and their reason of being. They all wore different apparel some, amour others regular clothing. They were too unorganized to be assassins and with all the weird tattoos he doubted that they were a solid gang. "Sailors. More specifically pirates." A deep voice bellowed. out. Lo'campo turned around to meet the owner of the voice. It was another Akalak. The second one that he'd ran into since arriving in Sunberth. "Though stupid is close enough for some of these fools." He said shifting his eyes to the one known as Billy laying face down now in a pool of his own blood. "You are a skilled warrior. My name is Gartora. And yourself?" The man spoke in Tukant. Was he from Riverfall? Was he sent here to kill Lo'campo?

With a look he dismissed the boy as he scurried away like a rat to the woman that called out his name. "Pleasure to meet you Gatora. My name is Loxudeianis. What is your business here?" He responded back in his native tongue. "I've been hunting you down for a time now Loxudeianis. You see you've killed two of our crew members one being an Akalak and the other a drunken bard that fashions the ale here. We've come for compensation. More specifically your head." Figures. He looked around once more. There was 7 of them plus Gatora making 8. Most of them looked to be easy to defeat but still they had size in numbers as well as that Akalak. Standing stright up he gave a look showing that he was ready. "What? can't take me on alone so you had to bring help? I'm flattered." There was a moment of silence as everyone looked to Gatora as if waiting for a comeback.

"Everyone leave. Go back to the ship. You two give up your weapons and stand outside the gates. I may need assistance carrying his corpse back to the docks."

"But Gator-"

"That was a command not a suggestion."

"But what about Billy we can't-"

"Petch Billy! Billy's dead now leave before you join him!" Gatora boomed over the court yard. "I'd leave if I were you. You wouldn't want two pissed off Akalaks wanting to kill you." Lo'campo input gaining him a look. Gatora gave a nod signalling Lo'campo to prepare himself.

"Tell everyone to get inside and lock the door. Stay away from the windows and DO NOT open the door until i'm the only one standing. Oh, and start digging a grave in the back. Right next to the other Akalak." He added as an insult. All was quiet as people moved and doors were locked. It took a chime before the two giants were the only ones left outside.

[Lo'campo]

Now facing his next victim, he removed his robe top leaving his sash and bottoms being the only thing covering his body. His top half exposed showing the scars and marks that told their story across his blue skin. He folded the garment and gently placed it onto the ground then hooked his lakan onto his sash so he could have full use of both his hands. He raised his fist in front of his face, a quick loosing of his hand from the pain of his pricked finger. He did nothing but glance at it. Why did that hurt all of a sudden? He quickly shook the thought from his mind. He liked the pain. It helped him focus but still something so small.

"I take it that you are ready?" Gatora spoke out in their native tongue now having prepared himself for the battle sporting his own lakan. Though the two didn't say anything about it, they just knew that this was going to be a formal fight. Two powerful Akalak's going at it as if they were back in Riverfall. Lo'campo moved first, his feet pushing him from his current position charging straight for the bluish green man. A strong leap as he lunged forward his arm raised ready to come down in a powerful punch. It looked as if he were making a foolish attack but he just wanted to get close. To be under estimated so that he could find a weak spot, an opening that would allow him to punish this man.

Mid strike his free hand went to his side taking hold of his lakan. As planned Gatora moved away from the punch and began sending out his own counterattack. Using his lakan wielding arm, he pushed the man's arm away before bringing the blade back to slice his skin. There was a clash of steel before his arm was flung back and some from of force sent him back onto the ground. Breaking into a roll he came back to his feet bracing for any follow up strike that would come. None presented themselves though. Gatora only stood there his lakan in hand ready. "Please do not insult me with cheap tricks" Gatora spoke. "As you wish then, it shall be a true battle to the death." Lo'campo enjoyed speaking in Tukant. It was a strong language, noble. It was a shame that Gatora would have to die. He woulc have really enjoyed talking with the man in their native tongue.

That all being said, Gatora moved this time. Coming in fast like a crossbow bolt. He came with an open swing with some force behind it though it was still able to be blocked giving Lo'campo the chance to land a hard elbow to the man's jaw. There was a hard tug as his arm was gripped. His feet began to leave the ground and he soon found himself flipped over and on his back looking up at a boot that was set to crash down into his face. Dust and dirt threatened his eyes and mouth as the boot slammed into the ground where his head would have been if he'd not rolled away. Standing up he was soon rushed by the Akalak. A side step followed by a jab knocked Gatora off balance.

This was his chance. Aimed low, he rushed the man. Driving his shoulder into the Akalak's abdomen he went to lift. The man proved to be heavy and the pounding strikes raining down on his back didn't help. Before long he found himself leaving the ground once more this time sitting up straight in the air as if he were floating before crashing down into wooden barrels causing wood to splinter in different directions. Pain shot through his body giving him a energy boost. Did it hurt? Yes but he liked when it hurt. It meant that he was alive, and what didn't kill you made you stronger. He was dazed but not out. He could hear the orphans calling out to him. Begging him to get up. He could hear Jilene screaming his name telling him speak, to say something to let her know that he was alive at least. He was glad that she was blind, for this moment at least. he didn't want her to see him in this situation.

[Lo'campo]

"I'm ok-" His words were cut short by a kick to the midsection that sent him sliding across the ground. Coming back to his feet at a steady pace, he blocked an incoming fist and countering with an uppercut that knocked his opponent off balance. A side step to the left, jab with another step to the right followed with a jab then a hook to keep the man dazed. Gatora swung wildly a strong swing that cut the air but also a slow one as Lo'campo evaded the attack whilst landing two more punches. His time to shine was short lived as the man proved to be stronger, faster and more skilled in the art of combat than the orphanage's lovable blue giant.

His fist caught he felt Gatora's large hand push against his chest slamming him into the door of the orphanage with a force to break stone. Damn he was unable to regain his senses in time as another fist drilled it's way into his stomach almost causing him to vomit. Almost, if it wasn't for the mind rocking right that followed, he would have definitely blew chunks. He couldn't see much but he felt it all. He was spinning before coming to a stop. He felt large muscular arms wrap around his neck, tightening, squeezing the air from his body while his own large blue muscles struggled to break free. His eyes bulged from his face. He knew this style of attacking. Brutally strangling someone with your own arms took a good amount of strength to pull off. People struggle, fight back. That's what kills them though, the struggling. It helps the person choking you tighten their grip.

He tried to remain as calm as he could be. It was ironic in a sense. A murderer being murdered. Ha. He would bet anything that Krysus was laughing at him now. His lungs burned, his chest felt as if it were caving in with every attempted breath. Was this how it felt to die? To be without life? He knew he would have to think of something quick. It had been 30 ticks now. The average person died within a chime and a half IF they're struggling. That would mean that he had about less than 2 chimes left before he would begin to black out and even less time before the air to his brain would be completely shut off and his body would begin to shutdown. He threw an elbow back only to have it caught and wrung upwards behind his back. Petch.

The screams of the orphans began to drown. His sound was leaving him. "Lo'campo!" He heard Jilene's voice. "Papa Campo!" The sound of a little child's voice calling out. He couldn't pinpoint where the child was coming from but he was sure that the little was out in the open. There was a small struggle as Gatora's grip loosened. Using his strength he slid from his grip falling down to his knees to catch his breath. "Leave Papa alone!" He turned to see the child that came to his aide. It was a little girl who looked to be no older than 6 years of age. Her hair short and black as coal her eyes green with skin white as snow. She was tugging on Gatora's trousers as the man looked at her with those eyes

He went to move quickly as his feet would allow him for those eyes were hateful eyes, vengeful eyes. Eyes that had lost someone that they cared for dearly, eyes that were afraid of nothing. Eyes that he had seen every waking morning that he awakened from his slumber, the eyes of a cold blooded heartless killer. The glimmer of steel cut through the air. He moved fast his feet digging into the ground kicking up dirt and rock with each thunderous step. They weren't far, but seemed to be yards away. His heart pounded in his ears as his blood raced through his veins "Leave papa alon-" His eyes widened as the blade came down in full force that wasn't needed for the deed. The bastard did it to be flashy, to make the pain more than physical. Shit he would have done the same thing if it were he. The warmth of the child's blood splashed against his face. Her head rolling across the yard with an expression of shock from the blade as it connected with her neck. Her body squirting red liquid upon the gravel as it fell in a heap.

"You son of a bitch!" Lo'campo roared as he tackled Gatora slamming him into the side of the building. Done wasting time he landed two solid blows to the stomach and finished with a hook to the jaw. A swing came as he pivoted around it pushing the arm in it's direction to cause the Akalak to spin. Back to back Lo' continued with his pivot giving a loud slap across the man's face with a power punch behind it. He was angry now fighting of instinct instead of technique. His next strike was countered as blood filled his mouth from the attack sending his head back but he didn't let that stop him.

It was more than just a fight now he was fighting for that little girl who saved him. The two locked up struggling to overwhelm the other before he found himself being rammed with a barrage of knees. He braced for each attack though it proved to be wearing him down. Another knee to the ribs and there was a snap as he gasped for air and coughed up blood in the process. His grip loosened and another bone shattering punch landed on his injured side making him fold sideways, leaving his face open for a hammer fist that took him down.

[Lo'campo]

He gurgled on blood as the large foot of Gatora weighed upon his chest. Pain shot through his right side as it burned vigorously. It was his ribs that were surely to be broken if not cracked to the very least. "Is this the so called Sunset Quarter Monster" that I caught rumor of in this petching city? I heard that you were a vicious man, merciless, a force to be reckoned with ha! Pethetic" Anger burned in his chest as his muscles rippled trying to remove the heavy foot from atop of him. He wanted to kill now, he needed to kill.

"Let me rip his head through his ass" The voice of Oumoc sounded of calm and collect in their shared mind. This was a very odd one for the personality to speaking in, usually blurting out inappropriate and robust comments if not mocking Lo'campo himself .This was definitely not the Oumoc that he was used to listening to. Gatora began to apply pressure to his foot as the downed Akalak felt sharp poking pains to his injured side. Yep definitely broken ribs for sure. Let me kill him Lo'campo" Oumoc spoke out again this time calling him by his actual name. It seemed crazy, but Lo' actually trusted the darker side for a moment. Giving a mental nod he closed his eyes trying to concentrate.

He took a mental breath, lowering his willpower as Oumoc raised his. He could feel their level changing, lowering and rising, even the point where they passed each other. This was a brief moment in the body where the two would mentally pass each other. He watched as Oumoc stepped out into the light and turned to face the vastness of their mind. What ever Oumoc had planned he sure as hell hoped it worked.

He opened his eyes looking at Gatora with a murderous look upon his face. "Ah, thought you were dead." Gatora now speaking in common language taunted Oumoc. He winced as the pain began to set in, their body had taken well on a lot of damage, but the urge to kill was greater than some feeble pain that would be in the past. Using his massive hands he gripped his opponents leg in an attempt to remove the foot from his person. Gatora simply smiled watching the Akalak struggle. Oumoc pushed hard his muscles bulging looking as if they were to burst. He himself was fully energized, but his body was not. Parts of his stung and it hurt to breathe. Things would've been going different if he were fully functional, but he would have to make do with these standards.

"Enough!" Gatora barked, his opposite foot going back before connecting with Oumocs jaw. His neck flung to the side almost instantly, sending his body into a roll as he lay slump and motionless. "Hmph. Is this the only person you have to defend your home? Pitiful. I should burn this old shack into the ground! Ha." He listened as Gatora insulted the orphanage, his words making him angrier by the ticks. His plan had worked though. He knew that if Gatora had kicked him he could roll over to his lakan that was now under him. He pulled all his willpower to subdue his anger and keep quiet, to keep still for he only had one shot at this.

He held his breath as the stronger Akalak walked over to his supposedly dead body proud of his deed. A nudge of his foot to see if the defeated man would move or show any sign of life. Oumoc held his breath so his chest would not rise or fall, he relaxed his body so it would look as natural as possibly. If he wasn't able to fool Gatora it would only take a few stomps to the head and back to end him for good. A short time passed before Gatora deemed him dead and went to deal with the orphanage.

Good, his back was now turned meaning hat he wouldn't see Oumoc rise up from behind. In a quick motion and as fast as his damaged body would allow him he went to stand up using his legs, slashing out at the calves of Gatora creating a large lash across one and a lighter cut across the other. The man turned and stumbled surprised at the resurrection of the Akalak. Standing up the two injured men stared each other down. "I have to say, you do not dissapoint." Gatora spoke wincing as he put pressure on his leg. "Krysus, I give the death of this man to you as an offering. Please be pleased with my actions and bless me with the strength to bring pain and torment to his soul." That being said, the crooked standing Oumoc faced his opponent. He was down an arm and up a leg. This fight would prove to be interesting.

[Lo'campo]

He looked at Gatora with a sense of pride. He was the predator, Gatora the prey. This was him home, these orphans were his victims to be. He silently swore by the power in his body that he would make this man suffer for his disrespectful deeds. There was a moment of quietness though the battlefield screamed with internal madness from both fighters.

A quick step forward followed with a straight that was blocked and attempted to be countered with a failed strike. This was an advantage that he had now. With an injured leg it was hard for Gatora to be as mobile as he was. This also meant that he wouldn't be able to grapple Oumoc with his leg not being able to support both their weight. Oumoc moved in once more faking a swing with his injured arm and following up with his stronger one. A good strategy it was but effective it was not. Gatora leaning away from the punch and made him pay for the attempt with a lip splitting elbow. Oumoc stumbled, a swipe made by Gatora gave him nothing but air allowing Oumoc to take his hand and pull him forward.

It was like a puppet on a string, Oumo pulling the Akalak who was trying to stay on his feet while being pummeled by a fist raining down in a fit of rage. A strong tug freed the pirate leaving him wide open for an attack. That was it, Oumoc saw his chance to end this and was more than ready to take it. A lift of his foot before sending it down fast, hard, not holding back anything as his foot connected and went through Gatora injured leg at the knee causing the limb to crack and fold rendered broken. There was a scream from the man as pain clearly shot through his lower body. Not wasting any time, Oumoc picked up his lakan giving it a twirl to position the blade. A flick of the wrist, a flash of steel as he lunged onto the broken man who was moving to defend himself before....

The two men sat still upon the ground. Gatora on his knees and Oumoc in a kneeling position both watching as blood began to run down the blade's edge and spill onto the dirt. "You are a skilled warrior indeed. Both you and your lighter personality Gatora whispered Tukant into the ear of the blue Akalak. Oumoc's brow raised in surprise to the comment. "Oh, you didn't think I noticed the change in personality and fighting style? The recklessness yet anger and hatred in your attacks. You're definitely the alpha male. The stronger one and you know it." A significant amount of blood was now pooling in between the two giants. "You'd be an excellent addition to my crew. That is if you live at least."

Oumoc could do nothing as his bun came undone and his long silver hair fell around him. He could feel the blood seeping out of his body. Gatora's lakan burrowed into his abdomen. It was a minor wound though the position that they were in could turn it fatal if the Akalak wished it. Petch. "How would you like that? To travel all of Mizahar doing as you pleased. Bedding women of many races and bringing in all types of coin. To live the life." His breath began to quicken as his body reacted to all the blood loss. If he was going to die, he was going to die with honor.

Taking a painful breath, he leaned forward onto the blade as the entire of it slipped into him. The pain called for him to black out, but he pushed forward. He'd black out afterwards, after he killed him. Due to their size and his injury, Gatora couldn't move away quick enough. He was trapped just as Oumoc was. The half dead Oumoc lifted his lakan as he fell onto the pirate, aiming for the chest a loud crunch as the two collided. All was still. Neither of them moved. "Lo'campo!" He heard Jilene's voice call out though it sounded as if he was under water. It felt like it too as his back and other parts of his body felt wet as if soaked in some liquid.

Fuck. He looked down to see the hilt of the lakan protruding out from his abdomen covered in red. He slowly turned his head to see Gatora being pulled away slowly by his crew mates. The bastard was leaving his lakan. He wanted to call out to him. To call him back to finish their fight but no sound came from his mouth. It felt as if all the energy was being pulled from his body, sort of like a switch of personalities, but he didn't feel Lo's energy this time. There was only his. He even tried calling out to the lighter personality gaining no answer or sign if any. There was the soft touch of a warm hand, the sweetness of tears rolling from his face and across his mouth. His eyes were swollen shut so he couldn't tell who it was that mourned over his body by sight. It wasn't until he felt the hands moving across him is when he realized who it was.

It was her. Jilene. She couldn't see so she usually felt over things to get a mental picture of them. She ran her hands across his hair first checking to see if it were still long. That's what she liked most about him...Or rather Lo'campo. The sobbing didn't really start until she got past the forehead and touched his bruised face. More wetness fell from above as her hands continued down past his shoulders , his chest, his broken side until finally reaching the real damage. "Oh my-" She lightly touched the hilt of the blade to see how deep it was. "Lo'campo? Lo'campo! Answer me damnit! Lo'campo answer me right now or..or you are fired and will no longer be allowed here." There was a silence. He couldn't see anything anymore but he could still hear the tiny footsteps of the orphans crowding around him.

"Papa Campo?" An orphan tugged on his arm letting go as it fell back to the ground in a heap. "Mama Jilene why is he not answering?" Jilene could do nothing but sob as she tried to answer through the tears. "He's...alright. He's juts res- resting is all. You know how pap- pa- papa Campo needs his sleep. I'm sure he'd be up in no time." It hurt her to tell the lie but she couldn't bear telling them the truth. To tell them that their papa is dead. She sent them away while she stayed holding his head in her lap, stroking his hair. "Remember when we first met? How rude I was towards you? Look at us now. We've grown so much. Or that time that you took me out for a walk on the beach? You have a way of bringing out the good things out of bad places. The light that lives in darkness. Like this place. It was so miserable before you showed up. Now the orphans can't stop smiling and I can't remember the last time I heard a sad orphan's cry."

She sat with him reminiscing over the time that they spent together, well her and Lo'campo. Is this what it felt like to be loved? To have someone that cared? He hated it. There was a coolness of a shadow before he felt her lips lock with his. It was a long sentimental kiss, as if she was saying hello and goodbye at the same time. There was a spark of energy inside him. It was low but still there. Was that Lo'campo? The bastard didn't die after all. And to think he would have had the body for himself. This meant that their agreement still stood. As long as they both lived coexistent in this body Oumoc wouldn't kill senselessly and Lo'campo would have him locked away inside their body like a prisoner. He felt a pocket of air rise up from inside as his chest heaved, coughing up blood and clearing his airway as fresh air poured in and out of his lungs. There was a scream for help and time passed before he felt himself being moved before everything finally went black.