Ready ~~ Fight!

[Gorath the Strong]

Round 1

"Gorath no like this place."

The massive man who had spoken shifted slightly on his feet, his voice rumbling like a far off avalanche, and looked around cautiously at everyone standing around him. A stout dwarf, skin the color of pale cream, craned his head to look up at the massive figure and frowned.

"We've gone over this before Gorath, you said you wanted to see the world. Well, here we are seeing it and while we're at it, we might as well get a few coins for the road."

The massive man shifted again and rubbed his stomach with one of his four hands.

"Gorath hungry."

The dwarf grunted and slapped the hand away from Gorath's stomach. "You'll eat when we're finished here lad, now pay attention." The hand fell away, only to be replaced by another of the four from the other side, but the dwarf had already moved on. It was of no use really, he would still complain about being hungry but he would do what he was asked just the same. The dwarf looked over his shoulder at the small stage like arena behind him. Ringed with three elastic ropes on four sides, with four white cement filled metal tubes padded with blue and orange foam at the corners holding the rope, the thing reminding the dwarf of the old wrestling rings back home. Two huge dome lights, suspended a good twenty feet above the ring, gave very good lighting of the ring but obscured the mass of people sitting in the rows of seats surrounding the ring. Out there would either be Gorath's rise to fame, or his fall before he had even begun to climb the ladder. The dwarf returned his attention to the massive man in front of him and began speaking.

"Out there, in that ring there, you're going to find a stool. I want to enter the ring, sit on the stool and stay there until I say otherwise. Is this understood?"

"Gorath understand."

"Good. Now, put on this robe and hug yourself with your bottom arms. No no, put those arms through here. Yes, yes. Just like that. No, dammit! Gorath put your arms. . .Okay, good. Now, tie the robe up in front and - Dammit, keep those arms in! We don't want anyone seeing them until its too late. Right. Good. Now keep them there."

~~~~

In the same instant the dwarf finishing prepping his fighter, a man dressed in a well tailored white and black suit approached from the ring and bowed formally to the dwarf and his fighter.

"If you will follow me Master Lighthammer, the ring master is nearly ready to commence."

The dwarf gave his fighter a real quick once over then turned to the man in the suit, nodding his consent. The man bowed again, motioning the two to follow him.

The three walked from their wide hall and entered into the light from the ring, and the roaring of the crowd. The massive man cringed slightly at hearing this but was calmed when the dwarf shouted something in his ear, as whispering would have been drowned out by the noise of the crowd.

The man in the suit led them to one of the four padded corners and bowed them to it, staying only long enough to see that they had seen it before turning and striding off toward one of the many halls that ringed the ring. The dwarf watched him go for a moment then turned to his fighter and motioned him to get into the ring and sit on the stool. The fighter looked at him for a moment, seeming confused, before nodding slowly and moving toward the ring. As he entered the ring, in the traditional stretching and stepping through the ropes, something in his massive robe writhed and moved but finally settled when he took his seat. It could have just been his robe shifting.

The crowd quieted after a moment, but this only lasted for a few seconds, as they took it up again when the dwarf's fighter's opponent entered to stadium and approached the ring.


Closed to Ghoti.

[Ghoti]

Ghoti caught the odd glance the ring master had given him when it came time for him to be fetched, and was left wondering just what he had gotten himself into this time. I need the money, was his mantra. I need to get myself back on my feet. Okay, so entering a match such as this may not have been the wisest thing in the world, considering his current strength -- or lack thereof -- but he seriously needed to quit brooding and start formulating his game plan. Besides, any and all experience in these matters would be good for him.

For the impending fight he had selected his usual and most familiar projection, that of a slender albeit built human male resembling the body he once possessed, donning a black robe and simpe grey sweatpants. If anything, Ghoti's agility would be his saving grace.

...He had no idea just how much he'd be relying on this in the struggle to come.

They approached the ring, its lights effectively casting the spectators into shadow. Ghoti stepped forward, trying to quench the growing feeling of unease stirred in his chest upon seeing his opponent (Good god, I don't remember him being that incredibly huge!), and ducked nimbly between the ropes. Unlike the behemoth stationed opposite of him, Ghoti hadn't a trainer. He did have knowledge, however, but its application in this instance would be limited. Besides, it wasn't as if they had ever had him fighting against mountains on Earth.

The smaller, bare-footed man shrugged from his robe, throwing it in a corner where it dissolved into nothingness shortly after parting his lithe frame. This went unnoticed by the majority of those seated close, who were too busy betting among themselves (mostly in Gorath's favour, he noted miserably) to give a hoot. Ghoti started rolling his shoulders and limbering up as the ring master began talking, never taking his calculating blue gaze from the hulking orange-bearded monster he was supposed to beat.

You need the money.

I apologise for the shortness. As I get back into the swing of writing again my posts should lengthen. :]

[Gorath the Strong]

"All right lad, listen up." The dwarf leaned in close to Gorath, so that he could shout with out having to really scream to get over the buzz of the crowd behind, in front and to the left and right of them. "This snot looks like he hasn't fought more than three or four fights in his last nine lives but he does look quick. That could work against you. You need to corner him, or at least get him in a tight spot, then pummel him into the ground!"

Gorath nodded. A slow, jerky nod, almost like he was drunk and not simply thick. He would still listen to the dwarf though, just as he had for the last forty years, and he would take the advice to heart by either completing the task or getting knocked out trying. The dwarf had a feeling however, that this snot that Gorath was going to fight, wouldn't put up much of a fight at all.

"Right, the ringmaster is about to speak. Get ready to get that robe off, you'll not want to leave all those people bummed about a bad show."

The massive mans face drew back into a broad smile beneath his red-orange beard and the dwarf could see the robe shifting a bit as he readied his other two arms for their grand entrance. The ringmaster got into the ring and stood near the center, lifting to his lips a massive megaphone and the crowd went from loud and buzzing to mute and still in two seconds flat. It was amazing what power one could wield with a megaphone and an audience.

~~~~~

"Ladies and Gentlemen! It is with great pleasure that we here, at the Citadel Boxing Arena, bring to you tonight, a once in a life time show between two very lucky, ifnotsoquiteskilled, contestants tonight! In a one round, fight until the Knockout fight, these two contestants will exchange blows for a prize of one hundred and seventy five gold pieces!"

He waited for the crowd, who had one again begin to cheer not two words into his speech, to quiet enough for him to continue.

"In the left corner I present to your tonights challenger to our favorite here. Standing at a grand height of six feet and weighing at close to one hundred and seventy-five pounds, I present to you the man with only nine lives to live, Ghoti!"

The crowds cheer intensified then, shaking the very foundations of the stadium. Overhead the lining around the glow-bulbs began to rattle, a din that was lost in the steady roar of the crowd. It took some seconds for the roar to subside and the ringmaster continued.

"In the right corner I present to you a fighter from the dwarven mountain mines of Kachuck! Standing at a towering height of seven feet eight inches tall, and weighing in at three hundred pounds of pure, unearthly muscle, I give to you, the self proclaimed Four Fisted Hammer of Fury, Gorath the Strong!"

If the stadium had shook before, this time it nearly fell apart at the seams. People jumped up from their seats, some waved their hats, others threw them. Women waved handkerchiefs, others fainted. All in all, it was a mighty display of who the people saw as the favorite to win tonights match.

~~~~~

"All right kid, get ready to show your stuff."

~~~~~

"Ladies and Gentlemen, one final message before I depart the stage and let these two have at it tonight. Please remember to check your seats and clean up your mess, emergency exits are to the north and south, and you will also find concession and drink stands to your east and west."

With that the ringmaster dropped his megaphone over the side of the ring and hoped down off the pad and disappeared into the crowd.

~~~~~

"Right, must be something along the lines of policy and covering their ass in case something stupid or bad happens."

At that time a referee stepped to center of the ring and raised his arms into the air to get a little silence from the crowd.

"Since this is not a federated or controlled boxing match, the rules have changed slightly. There will be only one round, and one round only. That one round will conclude when one fighter has been deemed knocked unconscious. We have professionals standing by to confirm that it is indeed a knock out. If the combatants would please remove their robes at this time."

"Do it lad," the dwarf said quietly beside the massive man.

~~~~~

Gorath grunted and stood slowly. He could never understand why Balor always wanted him to hide his other two arms. Of course, he still couldn't understand why people screamed and ran in terror when they saw him. He never really wanted to hurt no one, but they always seemed to want to hurt him. He just didn't know. He was so confused.

His hands moved of their own accord and slowly began working the knot that tied the front of his robe together. As his fingers worked he flexed his other two arms, checking to make sure that they weren't too cramped, hugging him as tightly as they were. Balor had told him to do that, saying that he was going to surprise everyone. Gorath like surprises, they always made him feel happy. The two strings on the front of his robe parted and he let the thing fall from his back to land in a crumpled heap at his feet.

He then stretched.

~~~~~

Someone screamed, then everyone screamed. Everyone could see now. Everyone understood his name, Four Fisted Hammer of Fury. They saw that he had not two arms like any other human would have, but four. Four complete and independent arms, with fully developed and equally independent hands. His top two were joined to his torso like any other humans, his shoulders a whole three feet across and his back rippling as his muscles flexed. His bottom two arms also had a pair or shoulders, but these were small and stunted, only protruding far enough for his joints to move and flex freely. Both pairs of arms were exactly the same length, if they were laid side by side, but the bottom, because of their slightly protruded position, stretched a tiny bit farther than did the top two.

Everyone, at the same time and with same collective gasp of horror and confusion, understood now why he had kept his robe on for so long. Before anyone could scream, shout or faint a second time, a tiny gong sounded, filling the air with its vibrating ring.

The fight, had begun.

You may start the fight, :P

[Ghoti]

The close air of the stadium ruptured into assorted roars and applause as the announcer guy began the introductions, starting with Ghoti himself. The projection continued his warm up, allowing his chest to swell with pride at the unexpected salvo he had been given. If anything, the notion that at least a portion of the crowd stood behind his back was comforting, for all the good it would do him. Invigorated by the concept, Ghoti bounced lightly on his heals, a small smile creeping around the taught line of his lips. Yeah. He could do this. It didn't matter that his opponent out-weighed him by about two-hundred pounds...

Then came Gorath's intro. The accompanying cacophony was enough to send an aftershock of sharp tinnitus ringing through Ghoti's sensitive ear canals. Someone's bowler hat came flying from the crowd and thwacked him on the side of his head, and the pale-skinned man grabbed it and sent it roughly on its way back into the writhing mass of anticipating bodies. Okay...so he wasn't the favourite. By far. But he already knew that. The confirmation of the fact made little difference at this point. His mood dampened, Ghoti finally closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing.

***

"Since this is not a federated or controlled boxing match, the rules have changed slightly. There will be only one round, and one round only. That one round will conclude when one fighter has been deemed knocked unconscious. We have professionals standing by to confirm that it is indeed a knock out. If the combatants would please remove their robes at this time."

***

Having already removed his robe, Ghoti stood back and watched the titan, remaining motionless for the first time since entering the ring. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't...

Bloody hell.

One arm slid from the confines of the fabric, then another. And another. And another. Someone screamed. A lot of people screamed, were screaming...four arms??! Oh...no, no, no, no, NO!

Shit. As if it wasn't bad enough that he could probably lift a semi truck with his little finger, now there's extra appendages added to the mix!

Ghoti was toast. Buttered toast. Buttered toast with strawberry preserves and a tuft of cat fur sticking to it, because it would have been dropped on the floor...and pummeled...and kicked...and stepped on. And that's all that would remain -- a small red smear and some bread crumbs.

You really do like getting the crap kicked out of you, don't ya?

There was a tug on his left pant leg, and he looked down to see a kind grandmotherly figure, her face hardly visible through the mask of wrinkly folds. "Good luck, kid," she rasped, grinning toothlessly at him. "Yer gonna need it."

"Er...thanks."

I hate this planet.

There was a ringing sound, and it wasn't the tinnitus.

No.

Oh god no.

Background noise melted into a weird silence in which all he could hear was the tumultuous pounding of the blood through his veins.

His move.

***

Breath. Find his weaknesses. You're not going to get him right away.

Ghoti bounced around in his corner, fists loosely contorted into claw-like contrivances held up close to his jaw as he tried not to focus on how the overpowering smell of burnt chili dogs (or what he guessed smelled like burnt chili dogs) and under-cleaned johnny-on-the-spots was steadily making him sick. The crowd was roaring again, a few (or more than a few) yelling out their own tips and cat-calls, impatient for the bloodbath. Gorath's hulking fleshy mass reared before him, complete with the glistening slabs of muscle and the insectile, infuriatingly distracting multiple arms.

Invulnerable.

No. He has to have a soft spot somewhere. Every living thing does. It's just a matter of finding it.

Without further adieu, Ghoti sprang forward, sending two punches to where he presumed the giant's kidneys might reside before taking a quick side-step to the left.

Never stop moving.

[Gorath the Strong]

The dwarf couldn't help but to laugh as the skinny mans fists bounced off the massive mans chest without so much as a dent in the skin. Gorath certainly hadn't shown any sign of getting hit; he was still ogling at the crowd!

"You've got'em good Gorath! Finish this so we can claim our prize!"

His laughter, loud and rich, was drowned completely out by the next wave of roars from the crowd.

~~~~~

Gorath smirked, and dropped his head to watch the dancing little man.

"Puny man is fast," he said slowly. He turned his lumbering mass to follow the quick man, flexing his four massive fists, one after another. "Very fast." He abruptly threw back his head and bark a laugh that nearly echoed the ferocity of the cheering crowd. "Gorath enjoy this already," he shouted. "And Gorath not even throw punch yet!" He then barked another laugh, and took a step towards the man.

His two lower arms then snaked suddenly forward, and he went as though to grab the man then stopped abruptly and sweeping his arms to the right, missed the man completely. At the same instant his other two arms leapt forward, right to the spot where his bottom two arms would eventually come to, and then they switched paths just as abruptly as the top two had and went straight for the mans chest. They weren't curled into fists, oh no, not yet. Gorath, despite his dwarven friends earnest calling to end it quickly, wanted to toy with this man. He wanted to have some fun for a change. And what better fun then to get paid to fight? He certainly didn't know of any.

Beats hauling stupid carts all day!

He laughed again as his hands moved, and the crowd roared even louder.

[Ghoti]

Unperturbed, he ceased not his barrage, clinging to a desperate and rather pathetic hope that somehow he could punch through the giant's barrier. This probably wasn't the best of strategies, but Ghoti was determined to find his opponent's soft spot(s) while he had the chance. For the moment, Gorath...wasn't paying him the slightest amount of attention, it would seem, and for some reason this made the 'puny man' more angry than scared, as he rightly should have been. Why, back at the academy, his lightning-quick jabs and razor-edged upper-cuts were the stuff of legend. But this wasn't the academy. This wasn't even Earth.

And he was screwed.

Two hands came flying at him, and Ghoti dodged quickly, only to back-step a couple of paces as the first attack ceased only to be resumed by another pair.

Retreat! Retreat!

It was so damned hard to keep an eye on all four at once. He only had two eyes! Pictures of hairy toast fluttered randomly into his mind. Then -- WHAM!

The impact hadn't been as painful as he had expected it to be (hell, it had been Ghoti's intention to not get hit), but the force of Gorath's strike had done a thorough job of winding him. Ghoti stumbled back, gasping, wondering why he wasn't on his ass.

Oh...

He had been hit with open palms. It had been like a push, not an actual strike. Yet the smaller man was only distracted for a second. He danced back to the opposite side of the ring, putting as much distance between him and that...thing as possible. Time for Plan B. (Had there even been a Plan A?)

"Is that...the best you can do, Dumbo?" he snorted, having to reflect on his choice of insults. Dumbo? Where the hell did that come from? "Please. I thought this was supposed to be a fight!"

Of course, he had no way of knowing whether or not Gorath was easily insulted, but it was worth a try. "Come on, you great punctilious pig!! Give me your best shot! I dare ya." He had stopped moving about at this point and was standing still, arms hanging by his sides, posture relaxed. "Or are you man enough? Or...uh...dwarf enough...uh...YOUR MOM DRINKS BUD!"

Okay, so he wasn't the most adept at this sort of thing.

Take the bait...come on...

Ghoti crossed his arms defiantly and carefully watched the behemoth for any signs of the exact thing any sane person would prefer not to see -- anger.

Bwahaha.

[Gorath the Strong]

What in the bloody hell is this blok talking about?

The dwarfs mind raced furiously. Gorath may not be able to understand what was going on here, but he knew an insult when he heard one, despite his not being able to understand it. The lad was a gifted fighter sure, but when the lad became angry, not even a dwarven seer could predict what would happen next.

This was from personal experience, and one Balor did not want to relive. His mind churned its mental gears and he cupped his hands over his mouth.

"Dun ya listen to his gibberish lad! He be pullin on yer legs! Give him a good what for, right on the knocker!"

*~~~~~*

"Aheah aheah aheah," the massive man laughed, his massive tea cup brown eyes focusing hard on the scrawny man.. "Puny man haff try harder than dat, Gorath not fall for stoopid words." He laughed again and moved forward toward the man.

Again he swung his lower set of hands toward the man, moving to grab him but unlike the last time, did not follow through with his upper set. Instead he waiting, for all of a second, before spreading his arms wide behind him, palms out, fingers stretched to their maximum width. Then, just as his arms were reaching their farthest bending point possible, brought them hard together right next to where the mans right ear should be.

The resulting thunder clap of a clap was enough to cause the massive mans own ears to ring. Behind, in front and beyond him the crowd groaned, gasped, cheered and screamed as one. Those nearest to the elevated platform (possibly four feet) just to the massive mans front screamed the loudest, their hands cupping their ears as they hunched over in pain. Even Balor, the dwarf who had heard explosions twice as loud, from not even half the distance, was slightly dazed but he only for a moment.

The massive mans vision cleared, his hearing returned and he backed away a few steps, fists balled and all arms at the ready. His eyes remained fixated on the puny man before him and as he stopped moving a small smile crept onto his face.

Gorath was really starting to enjoy this.

[Taskmienster]

This thread has been waiting for over a year. If you would like to complete it, or work on it further, you can PM myself or another staff member and ask for it to be moved. However, till that time, it will be resting in the Citadel Archive forum.

Thanks,
~Task