This match-up will last until 8 P.M. E.S.T. on 2/16/07. Remember, if you finish your battle early, I can score you early - and finishing early is a good, good thing always.
Best of luck!
This match-up will last until 8 P.M. E.S.T. on 2/16/07. Remember, if you finish your battle early, I can score you early - and finishing early is a good, good thing always.
Best of luck!
-The Althanas Chief Administrator and Editor
Uukan took a deep breathe and held it without exhaling for an entire minute. From head to toe, he tried hard not to make the minutest of movements or noises. With newfound concentration, his heart beat steadily became apparent. Sounds, even when he was blind, grew inherently louder. After nearly dying in Alerar, Uukan and Wolfy would go to the forests of Radasanth to train and try overcoming his greatest weakness. Living life on knife's edge, he knew that he would need to fight stronger opponents, even if they were once friends.
"Snap," the sound of a branch collapsing under the weight of the snow.
Uukan's left hand hovered over the hilt of the katana, his back hunched and knees slightly bent. In a single fluid motion, he reacted to the noise from behind by twisting his hip and shifting his weight his right wooden sandal. The right thumb placed below the hilt, the young samurai steadied the blade until the moment he felt the timing was right because of his inability to see. Uukan swiftly lowered his hand to the hilt and thrust the blade while extending his leg until the tip of the sandal touched the icy ground and sliced the falling snow right before it hit the ground.
I should not of done that.
A river of red drained into a cavern of the snow that turned a light pink over time. Uukan could only twist his wrist in pain while letting the blood drip from the tip of his thumb and mix in patterns only Wolfy and others could see.
"That is enough training for today, Wolfy. I guess it is too early to try sword drawing with my left hand." The blind man winced while complaining to his Dire Wolf friend.
"Radasanth." Uukan raised his arms relief. "I missed getting drunk and messing with the wenches until sun rise."
Wolfy shirked lazily about in the fluffy snow that padded against each paw, while its owner rambled on.
The snow was not particulary deep but foot-prints were usually left behind in the drifts...this creature however left nothing, not a scrape of the claw, not a crunch on powder, it was almost as if he were gliding upon the top of the snow as he travelled onwards. Entirely wrapped in silence the Homonculous mime let his mask flit from one sight to the next, despite his constant marching he was reluctant to move from each foot-step..but the promise of even more fresh scenery compelled him to move. That soft black hair and his scarf billowing out lightly behind him, wind or not he didn't know this was just something that often happened to him, a traveller he had spoken to seemed to accuse him of having in-built dramatic effects but how a simple waving of the scarf be dramatic?
While one hand swept back and forth through the air beside him, his other kept its hold on the strap of his satchel, that small travelling bag which contained so very little, no weapon visible on the Mime apart from his claws and indeed he had no interest in them yet...father was no warrior, he was an academic and abhorred violence...why raise your prodigy in that kind of way?
Through the light snow-fall came meandering a figure of tall stature yet thin bearing, inhuman digits marring his otherwise gentle seeming nature...an air of foreboding creeping upon those who watched but it was not the intention of this being to cause unease it merely happened. His steps continued falling, no need for rest, nor for food, endlessly this being walked across the earth whatever attempted to cover it and experiance...that was his goal to experiance all he could...yes that would not make a bad passage for the journal, must note that down
His dangling arm raised itself up, elbow and wrist bending like no humans could to open up his satchel, plucking out from it a crisp, leather bound book and a pencil, its wooden surface marred by small dents and scratches that showed while he tried the Mime could not always be perfect precise in extracting his wares from that bag. If he had approached anyone the Mime had no idea, he was enthralled once again by his love of the written word, walking blindly on top of the snow, his pencil etching its mark upon the blank pages, filling them with memories, with knowledge...giving life to this book, it felt so...wonderful.
Profile of a Creation
If one cannot be vocal, does that make my voice any less powerful than those who can scream for all they are worth?
"What should we do now, Wolfy?" Uukan lowered a knee beside the lethargic dire wolf. With an uninjured left hand, he vigorously petted his furry friend between its ears.
"You are not your usual frisky self, boy." Uukan asked quizitively only to receive a whimpering response, as the wolf pawed at the snow with velocity.
That reminds me.
Uukan's hands retreated within his kimono to find his satchel that he hide properly beneath the silk clothe. He revealed a piece of paper that was given by those in charge of the Althanaversary tournament, yet the samurai was unable to read it himself. Wolfy suddenly worked himself into a frantic starring at the weird figure in the distance, while his owner tried to remember what he was told about his opponent.
"Is something wrong?" The blind man announced because he was worried about the sudden shaking of Wolfy.
In fear, there are several instincts in humans and animals that they share. They can flee from the cause of their fear and survive to live another day or in Wolfy's case decide to fight this supposed monstrous creature. Wolfy bared its fangs and claws as it ripped through the snow like a tiger locked on its prey.
“Stop it, Wolfy. You might hurt someone.” Uukan yelled at the sprinting dire wolf.
Why did I enter this...a tournament draws warriors...father did not state that I was one, though I have been able to fight...still too little to second guess myself, a tad too late...this is where the opponent is meant to be...
It took some doing but the Homonculous Mime finally lifted his head from his eloquently written diary,easing it and the pencil back into his small satchel, the thing would be even smaller if it weren't for his violin. If only he had somewhere safe to store it...still there was something odd about that-...oh dear.
That black dog is...approaching rather,oh my..
As the imaginatively named pet tore towards the Mime he slowly lowered himself down, it was not an unusual assumption that wild beasts would take an unliking to him, nor for domesticated ones...just that this was one of the few times it had happened. Perhaps this was his opponent?...could a regular four legged canine fill out an application form?...he could at least sign it with an X, that would have been rather suprising, or perhaps signed by paw...curious. Shaken from his thoughts by the loud growling the unborn being managed to spy through the white spray it churned up to see the crouched figure.
Ah...he is my opponent, I see a kimono and most likely one of those blades designed for one hit victories...I wonder how easy it could cleave through me...
With Wolfy finally drawing up The Mime hopped silently and cleanly from the white powder covering the ground and managed to land a claw upon the canines nose, using that to throw his other foot forth onto its back just in time to remove his previous leg before the hound snapped and attempted to bite and then hopped forth, closing...well a rather meagre distance between he and the opponent but at the least it was progress, it was only at that moment when the Mime went over the events and recalled the voice of the possible opponent.
...Maybe he isn't my quarry, this could just be a hermit and his protector...umm...how should I apologize..
Profile of a Creation
If one cannot be vocal, does that make my voice any less powerful than those who can scream for all they are worth?
"Wolfy, get back here," Uukan commanded with authority.
The dire wolf reeled in pain, when a finger nail dissected its right nasal passage. In distress, the wolf covered its snout in snow and paws. Uukan, unable to do anything, stood up and listened to the onslaught of assorted sounds emitted by his companion. The pair of sandals he wore unable to grip the slick snow, as he tried to balance his weight while jogging toward the source of the wolf's yelping.
"Is everything all right? I hope no one is hurt."
Uukan skidded to a halt, when he tried to arch the sandal. The samurai knelt to the cold snow and waded around through it with his left hand, until he felt the fur of his friend. Before he petted the wolf once more, the young samurai reached for a piece of clothe that wrapped the hilt and sheathe. Because of his injured thumb he could hardly care for the soaked dire wolf without hurting himself further.
"I wish you could answer, Wolfy. How am supposed to take care of you, if you cannot speak?"
The paper that Uukan reveived for the Althanaversary tournament became garbage, as he tossed it aside and began wrapping his thumb.
How am I supposed to challenge you if I cannot speak!...oh dear...I, really didn't mean for that umm...Wolfie?...Wolfie it is then
Slowly stepping back to the whining pet and its owner the Mime seemed to cringe, his claw must have slipped...or not taken into account how fast the animal could move, he had only meant to jump over it in two steps rather than give it the makings for a rather curious story to tell its pack-mates with high exaggeration. The overly tall Homonculous stepping around the two, unsure of what to do really...maybe attempting a tournament was a bad idea, or else someone with a rather twisted sense of humour arranged this one.
Exactly how can I formulate my thoughts into a coherent and eloquent offering of words from the language of common and hence-forth clear up this mess and either give my heart-felt apology or begin combat in which I will...have to beat up a blind man...how to do that in silence...
He paced back and forth behind the two, lanky arms dangling by his side, rising up to fold, scratching at the fore-head of his mask...then back to dangling before finally he gave a long inaudible sigh, staring up at the sky as if to try and glean what kind of cruel god would pit him against such a morally...worrying fight. Finally he couldn't take this any longer and leant down giving a pointy clawed tap to Uukan.
....hello?
Profile of a Creation
If one cannot be vocal, does that make my voice any less powerful than those who can scream for all they are worth?
Uukan rubbed his freshly dressed thumb into the snowing cover, as he hoped to numb the throbbing pain that ensured once it was bandaged. While he tended to his companion, his mind traversed the memory that brought the two together. Ithy laid there on his death bed engulfed in a pillar of fire and all Uukan could do was stare helplessly while weeping for his vanishing friend, as he spoke of the will that bound the dire wolf and samurai together.
"I do not deserve you, Wolfy. I knew he had too much faith in me."
Uukan felt a soft tapping against his backside. His body taken over by instinct jutted left then right, as if he could tell by looking in those directions to where the source of the touches that interrupted his thought processes was.
What is it?
Uukan wrapped his hands around the fur of Wolfy and tried to calm the suddenly wild dire wolf down, as he continued to feel the sharp object dig into his back.
"What do you want?" The blind samurai stammered, as he turned to respond to whatever was behind him.
Despite not being human...well...he couldn't resist it, The Mimes arms waving in front of the strangers face, the Homonculous seeming to be performing an interpretive dance about the heart-ache inherent in the autumn months when your naught but a shoe-shining boy...or it was a brief spurt of hyperactivity,hard to say really. Finally the manifestation of an art style let his arms to the sides, shoulders dropping and just looking at his opponent...well he assumed this was his opponent, there was a sword handle poking free and that thing was a tad bit large to be a seeing eye dog.
If there is an after-life for me I know all to well that this incident will be brought up in precise detail as they sum up my influence on the world and what I had accomplished...I cannot see this being a favourable mention...what to do...
Taking a step back the homonculous pondered many avenues of making his presence...though sadly not his introduction clear. A simple snow-ball was often a declaration of hostile intent, however childish...perhaps a brief swatting of the vagrants nose using his long hair...or there is always the continued poking, maybe he won't be tempting hell if the blind man makes the first strike. It isn't all that viable to ask ones purpose with a blast of the harmonica however well you practice.
I do wonder what kind of malicious thoughts would enter my mind if I had been born a clown with impatience rather than a mime of peaceful nature...if only braile were as portable as the written word...oh well, on with the futile efforts
Rolling his head far too long and wide than any human could the Mime limply lifted up one of his long,thin arms and resumed poking at the blind-mans shoulder...trying not to be too hard of course but the temptation to shout out 'Oi Blindy!' was slowly growing hard to ignore.
Profile of a Creation
If one cannot be vocal, does that make my voice any less powerful than those who can scream for all they are worth?
What is this, charades? If so, the first word is poke. No, is it annoying? Second word must be really. Therefore, this must be really, annoying.
Uukan chuckled to himself, as his left hand retreated from the side of Wolfy and fell to the hilt of the katana at the samurai's waist. The blind man tried to use humor to calm himself and forget the jabbing at the trapezius muscle of his back. It boggled his mind on whether or not he could hit the bastard, when he remembered the real reason he trained here with the dire wolf in the first place and that was to gauge his attacks on the length of the sword coupled to his side.
Ever since Uukan suffered blindness at the hands of his opponent during the Magus Tournament, he had never felt the same. The very thought of being bludgeoned by a mace still haunts his dreams to the point he curses his own weaknesses. The samurai lost his pride and did not commit seppuku because he had been a rogue for almost five years next month.
"Is that what I think it is, Alex?"
"If you mean a mime poking a kneeling samurai, then yes, that is what you are thinking, Jenna." A man no older than twenty-five murmured.
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