Melkor, The Elder King (2)

ImTired

Alpha Sokeyr walked out of the way when Lorm came rushing towards him. He then ducked when the club was swung at him. He kept circling Lorm, without a weapon in sight.

"Come on, Lorm be nimble, Lorm be quick!"

G4L4XY

Country Jabba materializes in the rook, alongside a rockswivelreclining chair. He loudly slurps from the soda helmet, spitting out the wheat in his mouth for once.

"Yippikayay! Gettem' cowboy!"

ImTired

G4L4XY (This is ridiculous... this isn't even a major battle lol... Come back when Sokeyr fights Melkor or something...)

ImTired

G4L4XY "What de Hell you just done said to me? I ain't some cowboy."

G4L4XY

ImTired

"Woah dere cowboy, is' just that I Coun'ry Jabba, ain't meaning to call yeh a cowboy. Jus' that I be speakin like this all me' life, the'fore I forced to call ery'one cowboys. Dagnabbit! Fetch me s'more soder, cowboys!"

Country Jabba's Southern Servants run to fetch some more soda for the drinking hat.

thebuilder

ImTired "Can't I have some entertainment?"

ImTired

thebuilder "I suppose."

Alpha

ImTired While Sokeyr was busy talking to the crowd, Lorm had been sneaking up to him, he decides to do his trademark-move. He grabs Sokeyr by his troat, and holds him in the air. After a couple seconds he throws him across the arena.

"Focus on the fight, cap-tain, you aint gonna win if you keep getting distracted!"

thebuilder

Alpha "Whoever wins this match, will fight me" shouts Devan

ImTired

Alpha Sokeyr, surprised, realized that he had weakened his powers before he arrived on the station. He needed a bit more concentration.

His body begins to glow a bit red, but not enough to give any warning signals to Lorm. His body temperature reaches 95° Celcius. He gets up off the ground and pats off some dust on his shoulders. Instead of walking around Lorm, Sokeyr begins walking slowly towards Lorm.

"Impressive. You are powerful, boy. But I will outlast you."

Gladiaxa

thebuilder The fight is over, new match?

Alpha

ImTired
"Getting sweaty already, huh? I can see the heat glow from you. Didn't know you puny pinkskins needed so little to get a fever."

He runs towards Sokeyr, but contrary to the first time he slides at the final moment and aims for Sokeyr's legs.

ImTired

Alpha Sokeyr jumps over the sliding orc, then he grabs the landed orc with his burning hands and holds him up in the air for a few moments. Then Sokeyr begins squeezing his grip upon Lorm's arms.

"Sweating ain't so bad if it makes you sweat too."

Sokeyr then drops Lorm on the ground and punches him in his gut.

Alpha

ImTired
Ignoring the pain for a moment, Lorm performs a headbutt on Sokeyr, driving him back. He screams in rage and pain.

"Tricks! I will make you pay for that you little glob!"

He decides to run again towards Sokeyr, but just before he reaches him he throws a smake grenade on the ground, obscuring his location. He pops up behind Sokeyr, and aims for the head.

ImTired

Alpha Sokeyr's glowing body creates a small light through the smoke. He turns around surprised to see Lorm about the swing. He ducks, but the club hits Sokeyr's head. Sokeyr gives out a painful shreek. Blood begins dripping from his head, but Lorm's club completely melts. Sokeyr pulls out a small dagger, only a couple of centimeters long. He plunges it into Lorm's arm, covered in Sokeyr's own blood.

"Dangerous little fella aren't you?"

Alpha

ImTired
"THIS, IS, MORDOR!"

Mad with rage, Lorm does a perfect Spartan-kick on Sokeyr, kicking him over three meters far.

ImTired

Alpha Landing on his stomach, Sokeyr begins to feel hatred boiling within him. His temperature begins to steadily increase about 2° Celcius a second. He stands up, finding a new strength. He shakes his dagger once violently, and the blade becomes longer until it reaches the length of an average sword. Sokeyr begins to walk forwards in the smoke, his eyes shut tight, listening to the heavy footsteps of Lorm.

Alpha

ImTired

Holding a small knife, Lorm is looking for Sokeyr. Contrary to his opponent he uses his nose and tries to smell the unexplainable aroma of charcoal that lingers around Sokeyr.

Sniff... Sniff...

ImTired

Alpha The smell of burning and blood is a few meters away, Lorm could make it out just slightly. Meanwhile, Sokey begins to hear the slight but powerful footsteps of his opponent. He starts walking to the sound with his eyes still completely shut.

Alpha

ImTired
The smoke slowly starts to clear up, but yet it is very difficult to see anything
Lorm knows he's closing in, the smell gets stronger.

Sniff... Sniff...
He keeps walking into the direction of the smell...
Sniff... Sniff...

But then he makes a fatal mistake:
"I smell you, you dirty piece of shrakh!"

ImTired

Alpha The voice was all too clear. Sokeyr rushed towards the target, but before he arrived, moved just behind him. He swung his sword straight through the smoke, guessing that is where Lorm would be located... he felt something on the end of his sword, but wasn't sure if it was Lorm or not.

Alpha

ImTired
A direct hit! Lorm fell to the ground, not fatally wounded, but with a serious cut on his chest.
The smoke cleared up. Lorm and Sokeyr look eachother in the eyes.

"Seems like I was wrong, captain." He coughs up a little bit of blood.
For the first time he said captain on a normal and respecful way.

"You have proven yourself worthy to be an orc captain, my orc captain. Guide us to victory, and we shall follow."

He kneels before Sokeyr, holding his dagger in front of him, offering it to Sokeyr.