[b]LOCATION: [i]The Footpits, Rosskaya[/i][/b]
[b]As Kai, Shift, and I approach the Pits, I go through the Fighters entrance, while they head towards the audience stands.
I now stand on one side of the arena, awaiting my first opponent.[/b]
English
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[spoiler]Ok, I'm back, can you catch me up?[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]I entered the Pits and fought a gladiator. I beat him, then tried to leave, but I was told I had to kill him to leave, so I did.[/spoiler]
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You have been equipped with a short, studded baton to fight with. Just as you enter the arena, the gate at the opposite end of the Pit slides open, and a fit young man with a studded baton similar to yours charges out, screaming as he sprints towards you with his weapon raised.
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Lol this is TOTALLY the pit from Fallout 3...
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Edited by Bardo XCIX: 7/30/2015 12:48:34 AM[b]I rush towards the man, and attempt to strike his side with my baton.[/b]
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Telepathically [b]-did you skip the stick fighting lesson?-[/b]
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[b]-I believe I was in custody for that one.-[/b]
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Edited by DesertX963: 7/30/2015 12:57:48 AM[b]I telepathically read your opponents mind[/b] [b]-Sidestep then swing diagonally down. He'll charge back and you need to perform a back swing on his knee cap-[/b]
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[b]-Alright, I'll try.-[/b]
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He manages to leap sideways, out of the wake of your swing, and strikes you on the shoulder, jumping back just in case of a back lash. Your shoulder is damp with blood.
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[b]I sidestep then swing diagonally down. I then do aback swing on his knee cap-[/b][/quote]
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Edited by DesertX963: 7/30/2015 1:21:39 AM[b]-Ok I just cheated for you. The rest is up to you-[/b]
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The gladiator blocks the first strike, but is hit by the next move. He lumbers down on one knee, the other broken and bloody.
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[b]I knew him in his chin sending him backwards. I hold my baton over his face as he lays on the ground.[/b] Do you yield? [b]The air seems chilly.[/b]
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He lies on his back, his nose broken and bleeding. He narrows his eyes at you, his eyebrows angled in a confused expression. He then swipes his baton across your face in a blur, sending you tumbling off of him. You face is covered in blood, and your cheek is scratched open.
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[b]I wipe my face off. I glare at him. The air becomes colder.[/b] That wasn't very nice now, was it? [b]I rush back at him, catching his arm and throw in him over my shoulder.[/b]
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He lands heavily on the ground in front of you. His arm is broken along with his knee now, and he yowls in pain. The audience cheers and screams at you to put him out of his misery.
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[spoiler]I stand over him, and bring my baton up. Then I slam it down. It hits the ground next to his head, leaving a crater.[/spoiler] Maybe now, you'll get the chance of being one those you worship. [b]I drop down the baton and walk to the exit. The baton strangely has frost on the handle, but it seems nobody notices.[/b]
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The gates don't open. The crowd boos at you. You have to kill him.
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[b]I sigh and go pick up the baton. I look at the man one more time before I bring it down on his head. The air is now as cold as the outside.[/b] Are you people happy? [b]I look down at the baton and see that the handle is frosted over. I walk towards the exit, looking straight.[/b]
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There are small cheers from the audience, but it quickly fades into whispers and murmurs of your "cowardice." A smaller gate opens on another side of the Pit, releasing a tailless, ravenous-looking, shaggy-haired grey dog, its hackles raised to bare its bloody fangs which drool with saliva as it trots over to the dead gladiator's corpse. It glares at you with piercing amber eyes before sinking its teeth into the body's neck and dragging it away back into its cave inside the Pit wall. "[i]Do you wish to continue fighting, coward? Or leave with 1,000 Credits?[/i]" a voice asks from cheap speakers connected to the surrounding fencing.
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[b]I stop in my tracks and glare into the crowd.[/b] Heh. Fine. Bring on the next kill.
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"[i]Okay, coward.[/i]" the announcer says, before switching off comms. As you wait for the next opponent to enter, your baton is warped out of your hand and replaced with a short, steel sword. It takes a little while before the next gladiator enters the scene. It is a middle-aged man with sunglasses, a greasy tank-top, and cargo shorts. A rough stubble covers his otherwise bald face. He must not care about the cold. He carries the same weapon as you. "Come at me, bitch!" he shouts at you, shifting into a defensive position as he inches closer to you.
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[b]I cautiously circle him, moving closer slowly. [/b] You a Gear Head?
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"Gear Head? What the fuçk ye be talkin' about?" he growls as he gets closer to you.