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06/03/2007 10:53 PM
Inside an old looking ware house stood Soul, blood thirsty and ready for a fight. Aiden is being held tightly in his right hand while his eyes focus on the front door, waiting for somebody to enter. Though he had just issued the challange there would be little chance of anybody coming for some time, but Soul continued to look at the door and stand in the middle of the ring he had made without moving. The arena he decided on had just been made to the standard where Soul liked what he had, even though it could be better. Around the fifty meter in diameter ring gates stood with barbed wire ontop. There was only one entrance which was through the main doors of the warehouse, which had a one way path towards the ring. Blood splatters covered the metal walls, like they were placed their conveniantly. Most likely they were.
The failure of nobody turning up at all for the time Soul had been waiting for had really gotten to his head. And that wasn't the only thing that got to his head.
"Come on, Soul. Nobodies going to come here any time soon, just go out into the world and kill something. By the Time you get back nobody would of came and you can wait for somebody to come." That voice was the one and only Aiden, Souls' cursed sword.
"No, I have to wait. Strong people will come, and I will fight them and get stronger and stronger." Soul replies alloud, not even caring if anybody heard him. Since Aiden spoke to Soul via telepathic thoughts, Soul had to reply verbally, not knowing the loverly secret of how to mind speak.
"No, you don't. Nobody will come, they are scared. If you just go down the street you will find somebody to kill." Aiden replied, now getting slightly angry at Soul for disobeying his orders.
"Or I could wait, Waiting is easier. And I can kill legally." Soul rebuts. Aiden didn't speak for a long while after that.
06/14/2007 4:50 PM
Rowan was having a gloomy day. The sky was grey and cloudy, and a slight chill was in the air. As he walked down the brown cobble stones he noticed a sign lashed to an aged wooden pole and crudly written on it in a seemingly dark red was, "Arena." Rowan contemplated if he should go home to his wife and child empty handed, or fight one fight, to provide his family with what they really needed. He shook his broad shoulders, checked his sword and began towards the stone, brick building. As he approached the long, thick, wooden doors, he stopped one last time to give himself another opritunity to turn back. He didn't.
[Edited by Monkeybo1 on Thursday, June 14, 2007 4:53 PM]
06/25/2007 7:44 PM
Jacok came down the road about a minute later and noticed the same sign. Normally, arena's meant fun fights with people who actually knew what they were doing. That was good, because lately, he had been growing bored of the same menial bunch of thugs he eliminated all the time. Someone as gifted in two handed swordplay as himself deserved better figts. Which is why Jacok walked up to the stone building without hesitation. Stopping just before the double doors, he checked to make sure his shoulder hilts were attached before he opned the doors. 'Hello?" he called.
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