Andrew Lambert
Well-Known Member
Ok then.
Critiques from a few weeks ago taken on board. Hopefully less telling, more showing and now keeping the narrative moving...
Birjjikk strode into the subterranean arena, stopped in the centre and glared up at the Elders.
She was last to go. Blood had already drenched the floor and walls, with chunks of bone and flesh still scattered around. Larger limbs and carcases already removed by the Grunz.
My academy comrades have been busy.
Birjjikk’s concentration sharpened as the Elders began taking their seats and a hush came over the arena.
She checked her weapons. Her left hand flicked up to just over her right shoulder, and her three taloned fingers lightly brushed the handle of her sword which was holstered diagonally to her back - wedged between the fourth and fifth protruding vertebrae. She had three sets of triple release throwing knives and in her right hand, she carried a Swinging Enscicer.
Today was the biggest day of her young life. Today would decide her future within the Zerot Collective. A poor performance and she would become a lower caste worker-warrior - a Grunz - destined for a life of service in the collective, only slightly above the slave caste.
She took a deep breath. She was ready.
With a clanking sound, that echoed around the underground cavern, all of the inner gates to the holding pens opened. Through the shadows, she could just make out a mixture of aliens and animals shapes. One outer gate opened to her left and into the light appeared a white beast - a Shantra Bear.
It moved back into the shadow cast by the perimeter wall and paced slowly around the perimeter of the arena; its jet black eyes fixed on Birjjikk. On all fours, it was the same height as her. A thick glistening coat more used to a cold climate forcing it to conserve energy here in the oppressive heat generated by the planet's core. The beast stopped at an object, previously unseen by Birjjikk, and with its massive paw flicked it from out of the shadows into the light of the arena.
It was the mutilated body of one of her Academy. Left there as a vivid reminder of the danger they faced in this place. The chest plate insignia identical to the one she was wearing, was now plain to see - a blight on her Academy’s performance today. Even decapitated she knew from his large frame it was Garkkikk. She looked across at what was left of him and sneered.
‘Turdgutter! Not even worthy of becoming a Grunz’.
Had the bear done this? Was it showing her the likelihood of her fate? Its mouth appeared big enough. Glistening blood was still evident on the fur around its mouth and long white fangs.
As Birjjikk pondered the best way to kill the bear a second gate opened to her right. Three, no four small feline animals entered the arena - Tagras! The lead animals burning red eyes locked on to her, yellow fangs bared. It began stalking her with the other following its lead, blue and orange striped fur looking magnificent and menacing against the dull granite walls. Birjjikk stepped back a few paces, exposing the line of sight of the bear to the Tagras. They paused momentarily, assessing the greater threat.
The pause was all Birjjikk needed.
She crouched, coiled her torso and then will the full force of her body released her Enscicer. A microscopic cable extending after it from the tiny retractable storage unit attached to her belt. It flew towards the lead Tagra, two double-sided curved blades flashing in the dull light. The blades alone were lethal, but there was a subtle and deadly skill to using this weapon - one at which Birjjikk excelled. As it reached the leading Tagra, she flicked the cable with her wrist and the curved blades flashed together, severing off it's leading lower leg.
Perfect, that will impress.
The Tagra crashed to the ground howling. She retracted the Enscicer, seamlessly catching it in her left hand and holstering it.
The remaining Tagras were stunned momentarily a the fall of their leader, but soon overcame their confusion and charged at Birjjikk. With her right hand, she reached for the knife set mounted on her left torso and in one smooth movement released them at the three advancing animals. The first blade tore into the throat of the left Tagra. The second, released a micro-moment later, sliced into the middle feline's chest. They both crumpled to the floor as the remaining Tagra continued moving forward; the third blade only grazing the fur on its right thigh. Birjjikk cursed at her sloppy technique and reached for her sword. The magnetic fastener released it almost immediately, allowing her to start the arc of her strike instantly. She needed both hands on the hilt to get the power she needed from her young body to set the sword sweeping down. Birjjikk fell to one side, as the Tagra leapt, giving her the room to initiate a fatal strike. The blade cut deep, almost severing its head and shoulder off.
Birjjikk spun to the ground, crouching low, looking for the bear. It was about to make a blindside move on her, but seeing her turn, it hesitated. Clever it’s thinking. This beast had been too smart for Garkkikk: see could see that now. As they stalked each other, she tried probing it's mind; speculative, as animals typically didn't respond, but, to her was surprised, it did. The bear stopped pacing and was facing her, eyes wide open as if waiting for something. Instructions? She attempted a simple one, concentrating hard on tone perception; ‘get down’, her head and eyes lower to the floor to expand the instruction. It started to crouch but stopped, unsure. She tried again more forcefully ’Get Down!’ This time, it did, and its eyes remained intensely trained on her. She gave it two more simple commands: to approach her and then ‘down’ again. It performed them both well.
She turned her back on the bear. Straightened her hard leather head guard hooked over the small horns above her forehead, subconsciously fingered the set of throwing knives to the right side of her neck and waited for the challenge to continue.
The final three gates opened together.
Giant celestial monoliths interspersed between the holding pens silently looked down on Birjjikk, as they had many others over the last one thousand years. She wondered about the carnage they had witnessed in this place and whether her illustrious ancestors would deem her worthy of being here.
Behind her to the left were three soldiers. Directly in front of her a large heavily armoured warrior. And behind her to the right what appeared to be a family - a male, a female and a juvenile - unremarkable except for the shock of purple hair they possessed, vividly contrasting their snowy white skin colour. The man was the only one armed and then only with a short sword.
Are the Elders testing me?
The rest of her colleagues would certainly struggle with this task. They wouldn’t have had the skills to survive; Garkkikk certainly didn't.
Birjjikk assumed the Elders were punishing her; her arrogance displayed during previous tests not lost on them. Or are they testing me? Either way, she decided, she was up to this challenge - no, she was going to enjoy this challenge.
The only sound in the arena was the whimpering of the Tagra with the missing foot - desperately licking at the wound just below the severed humerus.
The three soldiers and the warrior stepped forward. Any reasonable confidence born of having to battle a young girl now tempered by her display in the arena so far and the bear now appearing to be under her control. Two large Grunz herded the family with the purple hair through the outer gate then slammed shut behind them.
Birjjikk wasn’t going to give them time to formulate strategies or alliances; she would be the aggressor. She needed a strong performance to get into the next phase of training. Warrior caste would then be guaranteed, and her training would continue. The darker arts of killing and mental training would be on the syllabus - she desperately wanted this. And later maybe, she would complete her training and become a Searcher, like her natural parents. Or better yet, become a Player. Then and only then, would she enjoy the reals benefits of being a high caste Zerot: a longer life filled with estivation - prolonged dormancy - ensuring more time to plot and play the killing game.
The warrior was the closest to her. Large build, well armed and with a heavily armoured suit over black chainmail undergarments. Slow, but probably the most dangerous of this off world mix of creatures. Trophies brought back for the entertainment of the Zerot and to train their young. All that remained of long forgotten worlds raped and destroyed over the previous 2000 years. He would be neutralised first, out in the open where she would be able to access the only weak point she could see in his armour.
Critiques from a few weeks ago taken on board. Hopefully less telling, more showing and now keeping the narrative moving...
Birjjikk strode into the subterranean arena, stopped in the centre and glared up at the Elders.
She was last to go. Blood had already drenched the floor and walls, with chunks of bone and flesh still scattered around. Larger limbs and carcases already removed by the Grunz.
My academy comrades have been busy.
Birjjikk’s concentration sharpened as the Elders began taking their seats and a hush came over the arena.
She checked her weapons. Her left hand flicked up to just over her right shoulder, and her three taloned fingers lightly brushed the handle of her sword which was holstered diagonally to her back - wedged between the fourth and fifth protruding vertebrae. She had three sets of triple release throwing knives and in her right hand, she carried a Swinging Enscicer.
Today was the biggest day of her young life. Today would decide her future within the Zerot Collective. A poor performance and she would become a lower caste worker-warrior - a Grunz - destined for a life of service in the collective, only slightly above the slave caste.
She took a deep breath. She was ready.
With a clanking sound, that echoed around the underground cavern, all of the inner gates to the holding pens opened. Through the shadows, she could just make out a mixture of aliens and animals shapes. One outer gate opened to her left and into the light appeared a white beast - a Shantra Bear.
It moved back into the shadow cast by the perimeter wall and paced slowly around the perimeter of the arena; its jet black eyes fixed on Birjjikk. On all fours, it was the same height as her. A thick glistening coat more used to a cold climate forcing it to conserve energy here in the oppressive heat generated by the planet's core. The beast stopped at an object, previously unseen by Birjjikk, and with its massive paw flicked it from out of the shadows into the light of the arena.
It was the mutilated body of one of her Academy. Left there as a vivid reminder of the danger they faced in this place. The chest plate insignia identical to the one she was wearing, was now plain to see - a blight on her Academy’s performance today. Even decapitated she knew from his large frame it was Garkkikk. She looked across at what was left of him and sneered.
‘Turdgutter! Not even worthy of becoming a Grunz’.
Had the bear done this? Was it showing her the likelihood of her fate? Its mouth appeared big enough. Glistening blood was still evident on the fur around its mouth and long white fangs.
As Birjjikk pondered the best way to kill the bear a second gate opened to her right. Three, no four small feline animals entered the arena - Tagras! The lead animals burning red eyes locked on to her, yellow fangs bared. It began stalking her with the other following its lead, blue and orange striped fur looking magnificent and menacing against the dull granite walls. Birjjikk stepped back a few paces, exposing the line of sight of the bear to the Tagras. They paused momentarily, assessing the greater threat.
The pause was all Birjjikk needed.
She crouched, coiled her torso and then will the full force of her body released her Enscicer. A microscopic cable extending after it from the tiny retractable storage unit attached to her belt. It flew towards the lead Tagra, two double-sided curved blades flashing in the dull light. The blades alone were lethal, but there was a subtle and deadly skill to using this weapon - one at which Birjjikk excelled. As it reached the leading Tagra, she flicked the cable with her wrist and the curved blades flashed together, severing off it's leading lower leg.
Perfect, that will impress.
The Tagra crashed to the ground howling. She retracted the Enscicer, seamlessly catching it in her left hand and holstering it.
The remaining Tagras were stunned momentarily a the fall of their leader, but soon overcame their confusion and charged at Birjjikk. With her right hand, she reached for the knife set mounted on her left torso and in one smooth movement released them at the three advancing animals. The first blade tore into the throat of the left Tagra. The second, released a micro-moment later, sliced into the middle feline's chest. They both crumpled to the floor as the remaining Tagra continued moving forward; the third blade only grazing the fur on its right thigh. Birjjikk cursed at her sloppy technique and reached for her sword. The magnetic fastener released it almost immediately, allowing her to start the arc of her strike instantly. She needed both hands on the hilt to get the power she needed from her young body to set the sword sweeping down. Birjjikk fell to one side, as the Tagra leapt, giving her the room to initiate a fatal strike. The blade cut deep, almost severing its head and shoulder off.
Birjjikk spun to the ground, crouching low, looking for the bear. It was about to make a blindside move on her, but seeing her turn, it hesitated. Clever it’s thinking. This beast had been too smart for Garkkikk: see could see that now. As they stalked each other, she tried probing it's mind; speculative, as animals typically didn't respond, but, to her was surprised, it did. The bear stopped pacing and was facing her, eyes wide open as if waiting for something. Instructions? She attempted a simple one, concentrating hard on tone perception; ‘get down’, her head and eyes lower to the floor to expand the instruction. It started to crouch but stopped, unsure. She tried again more forcefully ’Get Down!’ This time, it did, and its eyes remained intensely trained on her. She gave it two more simple commands: to approach her and then ‘down’ again. It performed them both well.
She turned her back on the bear. Straightened her hard leather head guard hooked over the small horns above her forehead, subconsciously fingered the set of throwing knives to the right side of her neck and waited for the challenge to continue.
The final three gates opened together.
Giant celestial monoliths interspersed between the holding pens silently looked down on Birjjikk, as they had many others over the last one thousand years. She wondered about the carnage they had witnessed in this place and whether her illustrious ancestors would deem her worthy of being here.
Behind her to the left were three soldiers. Directly in front of her a large heavily armoured warrior. And behind her to the right what appeared to be a family - a male, a female and a juvenile - unremarkable except for the shock of purple hair they possessed, vividly contrasting their snowy white skin colour. The man was the only one armed and then only with a short sword.
Are the Elders testing me?
The rest of her colleagues would certainly struggle with this task. They wouldn’t have had the skills to survive; Garkkikk certainly didn't.
Birjjikk assumed the Elders were punishing her; her arrogance displayed during previous tests not lost on them. Or are they testing me? Either way, she decided, she was up to this challenge - no, she was going to enjoy this challenge.
The only sound in the arena was the whimpering of the Tagra with the missing foot - desperately licking at the wound just below the severed humerus.
The three soldiers and the warrior stepped forward. Any reasonable confidence born of having to battle a young girl now tempered by her display in the arena so far and the bear now appearing to be under her control. Two large Grunz herded the family with the purple hair through the outer gate then slammed shut behind them.
Birjjikk wasn’t going to give them time to formulate strategies or alliances; she would be the aggressor. She needed a strong performance to get into the next phase of training. Warrior caste would then be guaranteed, and her training would continue. The darker arts of killing and mental training would be on the syllabus - she desperately wanted this. And later maybe, she would complete her training and become a Searcher, like her natural parents. Or better yet, become a Player. Then and only then, would she enjoy the reals benefits of being a high caste Zerot: a longer life filled with estivation - prolonged dormancy - ensuring more time to plot and play the killing game.
The warrior was the closest to her. Large build, well armed and with a heavily armoured suit over black chainmail undergarments. Slow, but probably the most dangerous of this off world mix of creatures. Trophies brought back for the entertainment of the Zerot and to train their young. All that remained of long forgotten worlds raped and destroyed over the previous 2000 years. He would be neutralised first, out in the open where she would be able to access the only weak point she could see in his armour.
