Solo Testing, One, Two, Three.

[Morvale Barrows]

It seemed as if an eternity had passed by in those few lingering moments as Morvale hobbled his way away from another imminent beat down. Of course the thoughts of re-applying as an apprentice next season loomed in the back of his mind as he tried to avoid the hang mans noose. But that little fantasy had come to an end when he heard some shifting movements in the background that were heading his way, he turned to try and get a glance and and just a glance was what he got as the serpentine horror bolted forward and twisted around him.

He loomed over his head suspended by a seemingly never-ending abdomen his muscles bulged inflamed with vulgar power, was this guy serious? Lock himself in melee combat with a guy that's biceps were like three of him rolled into one? A guy that could just throw him into vivid hallucinations of unreal torment.

Again he was assaulted by a meaty backhand that uprooted him and caused him to flail back. The impact of his arm sucked, and the secondary impact of his back to dirt was even worse. The only thing to dampen the impact was a combination of rocks dirt and grass. If he had his body he might have attempted a graceful acrobatic fall, but as it stood his back was injured his throat was injured his left hand was injured his chest was injured and most important of all his pride and confidence had been injured.

But as he lay on the ground something sparked In him, something arose to the challenge. His words fell upon him, about his intentions was he afraid of more apprentices in the citadel? It seemed as if Riyanna had set him up, he'd gotten the real shyk end of the stick since he stepped foot on this rock. It seemed as if fear and inhibition turned to rage as he clamored from the ground back to his feet his acrobatic balance the only thing keeping him on his feet.

His hand went for a dagger he adjusted to its weight in some shape or form becoming familiar with its balance.

As he drew in flux energy he could feel the hairs on his neck stand to attention. As he concentrated his energy he could feel the erratic sensation across the matrix of his nerve fibers before releasing the energy from his foot the transfer of kinetic energy was as fast as the crack of a whip, he did not tense his bruised and beaten muscles to allow the energy to surged unresisted through his tendons as it screamed through him collecting and balling energy through every point in his body as it flowed into his arms through his fingers and channeled it through the knife as his hand dropped and released letting it flail forward as if shot from a crossbow. The power of the flux was now propelling towards the Dhanis chest as it sang in the air like an arrow, how could morvale miss if his target was the size of the broad side of a barn? Was there enough depth in the dagger to penetrate vitals?

His hands fidgeted for another dagger, his mind going back to the techniques he'd worked on over the season. He was ready to fall into acrobatic maneuvering to thwart his assailants attempts to grab at him, ever ready with flux as he was allowing it rebalance within him to re-harness in a moments notice.

He was tired of being knocked around, although the promise of being his initiate was not the reason for this. So far he hated Gresshal if made a mistake Morvale would kill him him. The impression he left was your mine or you die, was he scared? Intimidated? It didn't matter this mess was Riyannas fault, she sent him here so this guy could pummel him the mixed blood would repay the favor.

They'd pay all of them

[Mirage]

The dagger sailed through the air, flying straight and true directly toward the center of Gresshal's chest. The Dhani was large, bulky, and obviously heavy as the earth rumbled with each impact of his tail upon the ground. Thus what happened next became all the more magnificent. As the dagger approached the Warden flicked his tail, tilting his upper body to the side just enough that the dagger flew harmlessly by his shoulder. As the weapon flew past a large scaley hand moved faster than should have been possible, snatching the dagger from the air and flipping it between his fingers. Time seemed to slow, and Gresshal's eyes found Morvale's and from his expression all the smug disdain the Warden felt was written clearly upon his features.

That large body twisted, tail whipping around and kicking up dust and dirt directly at Morvale, possibly blinding him. In that same motion Gresshal used his momentum to swing his arm around, sending the dagger back to its owner with equal speed and force. Enough to pierce the man through if he were caught by it. Hissing loudly the Warden followed this with another charge, drawing in closer and opening his arms with clear intent to wrap Morvale in a death embrace. The entire encounter happened in less than two ticks. The dust was kicked up, the dagger thrown and the second charge following one after another with speed faster than should have been possible for a creature his size. The dust had not yet settled, and Gresshal could not be certain of Morvale's exactly location. Instead he was relying on his larger size to give him the advantage in this situation.

[Morvale Barrows]

Was it magnificent? Or heart wrenching to watch his entire attack fail so miserably. There was really no time to gawk, or be stupefied by Gresshals maneuvers. They were fast, but Morvale was horrified that the serpentine creature merely flicked its tail and woosh what should have been the attack of attacks caused the dagger to spiral off course. But it happened so fast, he did not or could not have expected it. His timing and execution were perfect his balance and were beyond him worlds away.

A shroud of dust billowed over as the nightmarish creature lashed out its tail with a thunderous boom that resonated in the air. He couldn't see it coming, he only glimpsed what happened nothing would prepare him for the shot in the dark.

He felt hit hit his chest he couldn't react quick on his feet, a bulky slow moving Dhani yes but to something moving at him in a blurr as it whistled towards him at a devilish pace? No he could his feet tried to react his body tried to move but it came far to quickly. Morvale felt like he'd been zapped, the pain screeched through him his nerves tingling in a shrill cacophony of dismay. He'd been momentarily stupefied as blood drizzled from his chest, lost in a moment his heart beat rang out louder then a cannonade drowning out all other sounds. His hand dropped his dagger, and wrapped around the handle he was in shock now the intense pain mellowed as he pulled it free looking at the bloodied steel. As the hole was unplugged what started off as a drizzle began pouring out like an avalanche, he could hardly breath his right lung filling with blood that was choking him out far worse then Gresshals hands. Morvale was drowning in his own blood how could he continue?

It was only hate that fueled him forward, Ill kill you was all he could muster in his mind. His Vision was blurring and dizzying like a state of vertigo as he felt like he was falling. Anything, he'd resort to anything to kill Gresshal. Of course what remained of the mixed blood was fading fast. He only wished he'd been like that animated dog that took his arm, he could feel the warmth of blood soaking his cloths and becoming cold as the air hit his saturated attire.

All he had left was his right hand, he dropped the dagger and raised it up. He tried to mutter something as scarlet liquid pushed its way through his mouth as his broken lung overflowed. All he could do was raise his middle finger towards Gresshal in defiance. His last stand.

[Mirage]

Coils wrapped around Morvale, engulfing him completely until only his head poked out the top. Two large hands gripped him on either side of his skull as the serpent head leaned down to stare him in the eyes with an unblinking, pitying gaze, "Thisss iss ass far asss you go hatchling. I thought you were sstronger... but even Riyanna can make a misstake. You are brave, but foolisssh. Learn your lesson well for your next life."

The coils suddenly unwound, releasing Morvale and letting him fall to the ground flat upon his back. The dhani simply slithered around him, moving out of site as numbness consumed Morvale's limbs. He felt so heavy, his life blood flowing freely now and spilling upon the ground staining it crimson. What little air he could get tasted of iron, and his body would not respond to any motions he made. Darkness encroached upon his vision, consuming the world as Death came for him...

*****

"What would you give...? What is your revenge worth to you?" A voice spoke through the darkness, piercing the veil of the other side like a knife through flesh. The world was still dark, but now a shape appeared within the emptiness. A tall man, long locks of black falling on either side of his morbid face. His dress was formal, like he was preparing for a funeral, and tears of blood fell over each of his sunk cheeks. He looked down at Morvale with dark and empty eyes, sorry and misery hanging about him like a cloak. He repeated his question, leaning over Morvale's corpse as he did, "What would you give to live? Your body? Your soul? I can give it to you, the strength you desire. I can give power to your hatred, will to your revenge. Purpose to your pathetic life. What is your revenge worth to you?"

[Morvale Barrows]

It was over as Gresshals gargantuan coils wrapped around his form, thick and heavy they taxed his breathing. He was waiting for it, that sickening snap crackle pop of bones busting and caving in. Morvale was defeated now caught in his cold and scaly death grip, but nothing happened. As he spoke he mentioned Riyanna once again, this was her fault he was going to die here because she had lured him out. His whole life was over now because of that snake, he should have known better. He would leave this world with regret and anguish, his only desire to take everything away from Gresshal before watching the life bleed from his serpentine eyes.

It had seemed the warden master of the Mudpools would not even afford him the luxury of a finishing blow. As his grip was released and he slithered back to whatever gods forsaken hole he'd come from. Ill kill you was the only thing that replayed over and over in his mind as Diras sweet embrace washed over him.

In the darkness of the other side there came a voice that penetrated through him, he brushed it aside the first time. That bastard lizard was petching with him, toying with him in his final moments.

But as he opened his eyes he saw a ghoulish figure, dressed in black with sanguine tears running from his eyes. He had this aura of woe, so very different then pity it was more like empathy, this misery lingered across his form like a shroud. He asked him again for a final time what was it worth?

"Anything.

Everything

Give me the power to kill them, kill them all. I want to take everything from greshal, his friends, his security his position his life. I want it all, they have to pay make this right and whatever you want it's yours. My soul, my body I don't care fuel my hatred so that I may burn them all."

Whatever it takes even if I must become a monster to do so, it will be worth it.


Tell me, tell me now before its to late

what is it you seek?

[Mirage]

The strange man smiled, but instead of lighting his face the slight tilt of his lips only seemed to darken it more. He crouched down beside Morvale, laying his hand upon the man's chest. Endlessly dark eyes gazed over the broken body before him, tears of red falling to land on the ground beside Morvale's arm. Plumes of dark smoke sprung from where those drops fell, leaving nothing living where they touched.

Suddenly pale, bony fingers dug into Morvale's flesh over the wound that still gushed blood. Each finger pierced deep into morvale's flesh up to the second white knuckle. Those crying eyes turned to Morvale's once more, "Then it shall be Morvale Barrows. Accept your hatred, let it burn within you. Let it empower you." he dug his fingers deeper into the living man's flesh, eyes never leaving Morvale's even as the failed apprentice was racked by waves of pain, "In exchange for your body, your soul, and your loyalty I grant you this gift of power fueled by your hatred. Know me Morvale, worship me and vengeance shall be yours. I am Uldr, God of the Undead, giver of true freedom. Hatred is my domain, so hate all. Despise the world, hate me for the curse I lay upon you, and use this hatred to bring this curse upon others. Say my name, and accept my power."

When Morvale spoke the God's name Uldr would clench his fist, pulling the wound closed as the flesh magically began to mend itself. The pain though was unbelievable. Every bone in his body shook and felt as if it were dissolving, is flesh was alight with energy and heat and felt as if it were about to be pulled free of his shattered bones. His mind was ablaze with fever, numbness in his body replaced with pain beyond anything he had ever experienced before. His lungs were fit to burnt as blood was forced from them, vomiting from his mouth in a crimson flow. Morvale's entire body shook, his heart beating wildly in its chest, and then all was still and his heart ceased to beat.

Uldr ripped his fingers from Morvale's body. Where the knife wound had been a large ugly scare remained tracing vertically three ribs in length. Five smaller scars surrounded the vertical one, reminders of where Uldr had touched Morvale to work this miracle.

Wiping his hands on Morvale's shirt the God of the Undead stood, looking down at Morvale, [/color]"You are bound by your hatred to live until every person marked for your vengeance has been cursed, either with death or with unlife. You will spread the freedom that hatred brings among all in this world, and should you ever lose your own your body will crumble to dust. Prove your usefulness, and I will meet you once more."

Darkness enveloped Morvale once more. His heart was still... No, not still. It just beat very slowly. He would find he did not have to breath, he did not feel tired or hungry, or thirsty at all. His body felt stronger than ever before, full of energy unlike anything he had ever felt before. There was something else as well, something in the back of his mind. A craving... but it was a distant shadow at the moment.

The entire exchange did not last but a few ticks. Morvale would quickly awaken to find his wounds sealed and replaced by scars. Something odd though remained. The knuckles of his left hand were larger than the ones of his right, and bone clearly pierced through the flesh. Jagged bits of white bone that gave his left hand an oddly deformed look, though he lost no movement in that hand. Similar protrusions were elsewhere on his body. Smaller bony protrusions lined his spine, as well as two minuscule ridges under his hairline, almost like horns but far too small and rounded. He would also find that his eyes now held a redish tint.

The sounds of slithering in the trees returned, and should Morvale choose he would find Gresshal only a short distance away, already back to his human form and taking up a large hammer that sat next to a tree.

[Morvale Barrows]

Where to begin?

So many things were happening, droplets of blood fell from his eyes leaving nothing living in there wake. The plumes of smoke left lofting odors, a morbid stench that assaulted his senses. It was a rancid stench, the metallic taste in his mouth did little to mask the overbearing flavor he swore he could taste. But then his black eyes that appraised him were darker then the void, as if when his brown eyes met his he was looking through to the other side.

He had no time to dwell on this, it wasn't a feeling or a sensation there were no words to accurately describe this less then friendly experience. It was a thought that loomed in the back of his mind, why couldn't anything be pleasant? And sure enough Uldrs healing touch gripped him as his fingers sank into the meat of his chest as his fingers penetrated bone. He was struck by an unimaginable amount of pain the only thing that kept him from screaming was the fact that his collapsed lung emptied causing him to regurgitate blood and mucus as it overflowed from his mouth like a swelling spring.

Uldr, he gasped Uldr

Just when Morvale thought things were going to get better they suddenly got worse as Uldr himself clenched his hand sealing the wound. His mind went astray as the vibration in his bones echoed with sweet whispers as his mind retreated from the ghastly nightmare that was currently his life at the moment. The sensation was like he was being cooked alive burning in some demented realm of the Ukalas. It felt like he was literally melting, like his skin and flesh would be oozing off the bone

His heart had stopped and all was silent

He felt the dark gods fingers pull free from his wound, and for the moment everything became surreally tranquile. Morvale thought he had crossed over that he'd been duped again. The emptiness and quietness just nothing, and nothing more. He was bound by his hatred, and he felt the darkness wash across his form. But then from the stillness he remembered Riyanna, Remembered Gresshal they were the reasons he had somehow manage to pull through this fiendish torment and suddenly his heart once more pulsed with life. His thoughts and hatred consumed his core the very fibers of his being intertwined with hatred. He felt energized stronger and faster then ever before,

As he got up he looked down to witness the miracle, five gingers sprawled across a gaping scar. A hideous thing, a memento for those cold long nights of who it was that saved him and who it was that caused this. Riyanna that bitch, he scrambled to his feet no mirror to notice the changes he did pause as he did take notice of his hand. Something was different unique his knuckles had bony protrusions.

As he got up he remembered something the Maledictor was always in search of bones or items of power. Had the tears of Uldr remained in the grass next to his arm? He searched if it could be harvested he would take them, if not then he would waste no time to exact his revenge.

Although the thought loomed in his mind what Uldr had spoken, he could kill them or make them undead. A decision from his pantheon, would he serve himself? Or would he serve Uldr? The thought was fleeting as he followed the sounds of slithering.

His hatred sparked the moment he saw him, he could feel the adrenaline kicking through his veins.it was an intense moment how would react to Morvale suddenly returning? Certainly he must have used up lots of Djed, but had he taxed himself enough for Morvale to overthrow him? So many thoughts rushed through his mind as he grabbed for his dagger and just launched it Gresshal, no flux no enhancement just a regular blade toss.

He kept his distance to force him to use flux and valuable energy to get to him.

[Mirage]

The dagger flew true, burying itself deep into Gresshal's shoulder. The Dhani cursed, staggering back and looking up, utter surprise and bafflement filling his eyes as he saw a dead man living once more. His eyes flicked to the scar on Morvale's chest, wonder quickly giving way curiosity, and something close to excitement. He grinned, large and wide as he ripped the dagger free of his shoulder, burring it deep into the tree beside him. He set his hammer down once more, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck, "Sso your not asss weak asss you lead me to believe. You've got a good look in your eye. Hatred, I ssee it. You hate me, you want to kill me yesss?" He cracked his knuckles and started forward, "Well letss ssee if you can hatchling. No more gamesss. Don't hold back or I will kill you once and for all."

With that he started forward, quick as always as he closed the distance. One large fist raised, making a strike at the head. His other fist was already raised, prepared for a follow up of a counter attack. Morvale's muscles sung with power, vibrated with energy. What djed he had lost was not completely restored, all soreness and stiffness gone completely. This would be a straight one on one fight, and Gresshal was eager to see what Morvale could do.

OOCJust a reminder please add quotations around your speach

[Morvale Barrows]

Morvale smiled grimly in a state of jubilation as his dagger flew to its mark and made contact. He'd finally made a significant blow to the snake man menace, his hatred was gloating in satisfaction as he looked at Gresshals bewildered state of being. Uldr had given him a gift to return, and here he stood back from his death bed better then ever. It was a dark and twisted miracle, an abomination to the natural balance.

As more useless words poured from his mouth like vile vomit, he gritted his teeth in anticipation. It wasn't enough, he watched Gresshal bleed but his off beat red eyes never wavered. Every word out of his mouth, brought him back to the vivid hallucinations and cheap parlor tricks he used to pummel him. Every time it came back his heart thumped but once in loathing, Morvale could feel it resonate through him like a war drum.

He sat his hammer down to the ground there were no doubts in his mind that the Master of the mudpools had access to enchanted weapons. Was it due to his injury? Was it do to some archaic principal of honor and valor, that they were equals on the island? The truth was he wasn't worthy to be an apprentice on the citadel, and he hadnt been worthy to be Gresshals apprentice either. He was nobody on the island, discarded like garbage and he had the audacity to expect honorifics like a game with set rules? Did he expect a fist fight ? When he shape changed and threw himself at the stifling and exhausted Morvale had it been fair then? The thought enraged h, gave purpose to his next movement.

As Gresshal closed the distance Morvales hand gripped the handle of his dagger, as the shifted serpent drew in for a strong blow to his head Morvales drew his dagger free from his belt and swung upwards in a diagonal stroke. His left hand raced for assistance to grip and push on his right wrist wielding the dagger just below the thumb. Two sets of motion to meet that hand, the initial swipe and then the added thrust of his left arm combined with a freshly sharpened edge. The concept was to hit his hand and blow his fingers asunder from the knuckles up, as his momentum would prevent him from reeling back.

Perhaps if he was lucky Gresshal might lose his ring finger and whatever enchantments came with it.

It would also line him up to shield himself as the left hand could scrunch in to protect his head from the inevitable counterattack. Or he could throw his shoulder into it, he had some versatility from that position in which to work.

" Your words are wasted Dhani you cannot kill that which is already dead"

[Mirage]

A grin plastered upon Gresshal's lips as he watched Morvale position himself into a very advantageous position. Advantageous if he were fighting any other opponent that is. Twisting the arm that he was using to punch with the Warden unclenched his fist. The sudden motion moved his hand out of the way of the blade at the last second, and just as his hand few by Morvale's fingers, large hands would grasp both of Morvale's wrists in a large meaty grip. With a fierce tug that was meant to off balance Morvale, Gresshal slid his body around to his left, Morvale's right, quickly gaining his opponents back while at the same time twisting the boy's arms over themselves and pushing his center of balance off. Then the man's left arm wrapped around Morvale's neck, and with his lips close to Morvale's ear he would whisper, "The petch I can't."

Gresshal would kick Morvale's leg from under him, turning his body into the boy's already off centered position and causing them both to fall to the ground hard. As they landed Gresshal would disentangle himself, freeing his right hand to land a powerful blow into Morvale's side. He would feel several ribs shatter, one even piercing his lungs. Finally with another feat of fllexibility that seemed to not fit the Dhani's large size, Gresshal twisted his whole body over, leveraging with his legs and the left arm still wrapped around Morvale's neck to toss him off and into the dirt. Following the momentum Gresshal rolled to his feet, dusting off his shirt as he did so, "I don't know what changed in you, but it's not enough. You're not strong enough to kill me, and you never will. This is as far as you go." he said, turning to walk back to the tree line for what he assumed was the final time.

Morvale would hear a small voice as Gresshal turned his back and began walking away, so soft he might have imagined it, but still it brought with it a burning hate and a sense of forlorn misery, "Two chimes you have... Convince him to take you as his initiate. Let him foster your hatred and make you stronger, and then let your hatred consume him and the rest of the world..."

Morvale's ribs were already snapping back into place, the bruise on his skin vanishing as blood was forced out of his throat from his mouth. The damage was repaired, and Morvale was given two chimes to prove his worth to convince Gresshal to take him as his Initiate.