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Chasing the Unknown (Open)

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Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby Shin on Fri Apr 29, 2011 11:34 am

“Oh, wow. This is…this is nice.” Davlamin muttered to himself as he shifted through the rubble of a structure he figured was destroyed during ‘The End’. When Dav had first gotten here three days ago he had surveyed the area and determined that despite all of the worked stone that the base of the building wasn’t very large, which lead him to believe it had been some sort of tower. A tower for what though, he hadn’t the slightest clue.

He had entertained thoughts when he first got here of it being a wizards tower, of finding lost magical items or maybe even a spell book, but after a little digging he didn’t know what to think. Other than the small satchel he held in his hands he hadn’t found a single thing. Davlamin cleared a spot to sit and emptied the contents of the bag out on to the ground.

Several perfectly cut diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds rolled into the dirt, their brilliant facets catching the light and showering Dav in colored light.

Davlamins eyes went wide and his jaw went slack, he had never seen such riches before. Instinctively he looked around to make sure no one was watching him, though who would be he told himself, he was in the middle of a forest with not a living soul around as far as he knew.

He grabbed his walking staff off the ground and gazed through tree tops into the sky. It was somewhere around mid-day he decided, time for lunch. He collected the dozen gems back in the bag and tied it off on his belt inside his cloak and then pushed himself off the ground.

In no particular hurry Davlamin picked his way through the rubble to the copse of trees he had set up camp around. It was time to eat, he had skipped breakfast this morning to get straight to work and now he regretted it.
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby Shin on Mon May 02, 2011 7:25 am

Davlamin wished he had been more prepared than what he was and the thought of a warm meal was more appealing with every bite he took of his dried beef. He had to remind himself that even if he had brought out the gear he wouldn’t have had the slightest idea where to start. He had never cooked a day in his life, but he told himself it was good to day dream.

His appetite sated he tossed his food back in his pack and looked back at the crumbled tower once again trying to piece together what little facts he had, it was like trying to complete a puzzle that somebody had removed the edges too. It was possible, but not nearly as easy.

Nearly an hour passed and Dav was sifting through the rubble again, systematically moving through areas he had squared off with rope to make sure he didn’t check the same area twice. Davlamin was too engrossed in his work to notice the shadows that moved inside the tree line, just outside the area of the Alarm spell he had made sure to place around the camp every day and night.
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby Shin on Wed May 04, 2011 10:18 pm

Davlamin took a quick respite, leaning back to watch progress of the sun for a moment. There was still several hours left in the day, plenty of time to…


To…

…..huh…

Dav looked down a the stone in front of him, the bolt of a crossbow lay snapped into where he had just been sitting.

Odd

Davlamins body drooped to the left and he had to consciously pull his hands away from his side. They were covered in blood. Blood? BLOOD!!

The information was pieced together but a moment too late, it was at that time he was aware of that annoying screeching sound, the sound of his alarm going off, alerting everything near by to his presence. Now someone would find….someone DID find him!

Davlamins body slid to the side and slapped against the rubble, Davlamin was briefly thankful that he landed on the side that wasn’t bleeding. Though as the darkness began to creep into his vision he was aware of three other stabbing pains all along his left side and arm.

Two more bolts protruded from his side and another stuck into his arm. Vainly Dav reached for a pouch on his belt. His mind in a panic he mentally searched for a spell that could save him, anything that would ease the pain or whisk him away.

Nothing came to mind, for all of the spells he knew not a single one would help him. What good was magic if you couldn’t use it when it mattered? Dav asked himself as he sank into the darkness, the cold and wet darkness.
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby luciandevine on Sat May 07, 2011 7:12 am

Leaves slapped against Tastol's face and arms as he ran. He cursed for the hundredth time the forest that was around him, but knew even still that it was his only chance of finding those he sought. The wound just below Tastol's shoulder still throbbed with a dull ache, but it was far better than it could have been.

As Tastol ran, he replayed in his mind the events of what had happened barely a few days ago. He'd been traveling with his friends and family, all of them students of the sublime way under his father and mother. They'd been traveling by horse, relaxed and unafraid with the large number of them that there were..

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tastol had let his eyes glaze over, not really paying attention to the road in front of him, or the trees around him. He was simply watching the path. Tastol heard a sound that he didn't comprehend, not in time anyway. The force of a crossbow landing solidly just below his left shoulder knocked him from his seat, tumbling off the horse and landing hard on his stomach. The rough landing knocked the wind from him, and he lay there stunned for a few moments. Though he couldn't move, he could still hear, and the sounds of the slaughter were all around him. He heard the click of crossbows, and then the sound of sword being drawn, and a brief battle being had.

As much as Tastol wanted to rise and help those around him, he could do nothing but lay where he'd fallen. The battle that sounded around him was a brief one, though the screams of the fallen would haunt him forever. Tastol remember hearing the sounds of footsteps approaching him, how he'd frozen up, almost waiting for the blade to fall and end his life, and yet it didn't happen.

How long Tastol remained there, waiting to die, he didn't know. Eventually though, he heard the sounds of booted footsteps, moving here and there, taking what few valuables they'd had before moving back into the forest. Even after they were gone though, Tastol was still afraid to move, afraid to lift his head, lest he be killed as well. When at last he had done it though, he looked around at the slaughter, everybody he'd cared about, lying dead around him. He'd cried of course, but when the tears had run out, he'd risen, moving to the single carriage. He saw that it had been rifled through, the men clearly taking everything of value they could find.

Tastol's moved to the head of the carriage, his hands lifting the false lid, revealing what his father kept hidden there. He reached down to lift the sheathed katana from it's resting place.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Tastol was no tracker, not by a long shot, but one didn't need to be to follow these guys. They seemed to be unaware that they were being followed, or simply not care. He didn't know however, exactly how many he followed, but truthfully, he didn't care. He was going to try to avenge his family and friends, even if he risked or lost his own life in the process.

A screeching sound ahead of Tastol caught his attention. He didn't know if it was his target or something else, but it was the only true lead he had, so he quickly headed in that direction.

Tastol was still going on pure adrenaline when he came to a clearing. He saw the remains of a tower of sort, but more importantly, he saw four men advancing towards the tower, crossbows down. He had no idea who or what the men were stalking, but in his mind, Tastol saw these crossbow holding men as his enemies. His parents and friends had been killed, many by crossbows, and that these men also held crossbows, so soon and close to that event, was good enough for him.

A hand slid to the handle of the katana sheathed at his side. Tastol slowly crept forward , his eyes measuring the length of the mithril blade he held. It was an heirloom, passed down to his father by his grandfather, and so on back. Tastol's breathing was slow as he crept forward, moving only slightly faster than the men he stalked, his eyes watching their backs, wondering if he could catch them before they had a chance to turn. Already though, he'd begun readying the maneuvers he'd use, the order, and most importantly, the targets.
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby Shin on Sun May 08, 2011 2:26 pm

Dav fought against the pain, he gritted his teeth and reached somewhere deep inside. The wounds weren’t instantly lethal, but they hurt like hell and if left unattended he would certainly die from blood loss. Above the ringing of his own ears and the screeching of his alarm he could hear the men who shot him making their way through the rubble.

Fear was the first emotion that laced through Davlamin but he fought vainly to use that fear as a fuel. He tried to calm his breathing and focus on what was at hand, he could survive this, he wasn’t dead yet. His hand continued to fish in one of the pouches on his belt, he needed something, anything to help.

----

Tastol would come from the east, moving to the same tree line the bandits had just came from. There were six of them in all, only a quarter of the size that had attacked his caravan. As he approached them they began to walk from the clearing all reloading their crossbows and carefully approaching a cleared pile of ground, though Tastol would not be able to see what it was that was there.

As he stalked forward they would be caught unaware, at least for the moment. It wasn’t that Tastol was overly stealthy, but a combination of their own loud noises and Tastols attempt at remaining hidden.

“Check him for goods.” Barked a towering and bulky figure that was farthest from Tastol, a large wavy great sword strapped to his back. “I’m bettin he found some real nice things in this here tower rubble. Magic things even.”

All the man chuckled at that and two of them stalked forward, one replacing his crossbow with a short sword while the other moved to keep a clear shot of the man that laid on the ground. With Tastols training he would be able to tell that these men weren’t simple bandits and at one point in their lives had been trained as soldiers though they wore no insignia, other than molted gray cloaks all trimmed in white.

--

Dav grasped the familiar components of the spell between two fingers and mouthed the words to a spell, it wouldn’t do much he knew but at the moment it was all he would be able to do. The needed energy for the spell began to form and the power built and rose. All he needed was a few more moments and he would at least be able to complete the spell, though how much good it would do he didn’t really know.
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby luciandevine on Mon May 09, 2011 1:49 pm

As Tastol crept forward, step by step, he studied the men he stalked. He could count six of them, all dressed similarly, and moving with coordinated precision, precision similar to that that had been used when his family had been ambushed. Of all these things, only the fact that he had the right target made him feeling anything even close to grateful. He knew that he only had one chance, and that chance was surprise.

Luckily enough for Tastol though, the men seemed confident in whatever they were doing. They were making a lot of noise, making his task at sneaking up on them possible. His breathing was slow and steady, and his steps were as fast as he dared. He had to reach them before he was seen, or he was dead.

Tastol was worried that he wasn't going to get a truly good opportunity to attack, but was thankful when he was presented with such an opportunity. Two of the men broke off, heading towards whatever it was they were all looking at. Tastol's eye's saw the leader, now the man on the far right. He wanted to go for him first, but didn't want to risk being flanked so quickly. With that in mind, he took a couple of steps to his left as he continued forward, putting himself effectively between the man on the far left, and the man on his right.

Tastol's muscles bunched as he prepared to attack, his entire body anticipating it now. He studied his target, watching the way the man moved. His efforts were made easier by the fact that the man couldn't see him. When at last he was ready, he surged forward, closing the last bit of distance between him and the man. "Sapphire Nightmare Blade!" The words came from Tastol's lips as he unsheathed his blade, his previous efforts lending power to the strike as he struck at his foes back, using a rising diagonal slash.

Regardless of whether or not he hit his previous target, His blade lashed out at the man beside his previous target, his voice sounding once more. "Emerald Razor!" Just as he'd done before, his gaze had studied his foe, seeing the armor he wore, studying the man's movements. and picking his spot. His blade came straight down aiming for man's neck, just above where his armor covered.
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby Shin on Wed May 11, 2011 7:24 am

The first man, the one closest to Tastol had only the brief moment when the words of the attack were shouted to react. To his credit he managed to turn and get his crossbow in-between himself and Tastols deadly katana. It offered only the slightest amount of protection from the War Blades attacked, which cleanly slice both weapon and him in two.

The second man abandoned his crossbow all together and with surprising agility got his blade up to deflect Tastols second attack, leaving a large gash across his left side and with that left side unusable he held the long sword tightly in one hand. With Tastols momentum played out, and with the attention of the four uninjured bandits, three of which holding crossbows he would find himself in a tight situation.

--

Davlamin had managed to fight back the initial wave of agony and concentrate heavily on the spell. He heard something in the background, someone yelling, but what exactly he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that his time had to be almost over, he had seen the two men stalking towards him and angled the spell accordingly.

By the time Tastol squared off against his second target Davlamin unleashed his spell. A cone of prismatic color sprayed forth from an outstretched hand, angled in such a way that it would pass over both of the men that had been stalking towards him, Tastol and the injured man he was facing.

--

The man presenting his long sword to Tastol would fall over unconscious the moment the rainbow colored spell washed over him. The two nearest Davlamin would both have their vision and hearing subdued for several minutes, long enough to end the fight.

Tastol would be left to defend against the spell, Prismatic Spray, with naught but his own willpower. Failing to do so would likely result in the loss of his sight or hearing and perhaps even both if he was truly unlucky.
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby luciandevine on Thu May 12, 2011 11:28 am

Tastol watched as the four other men turned to face him, three bearing crossbows, with the leader of them drawing his great sword. He steeled his mind for what was about to happen, knowing full well that the odds were against him.

It was actually Tastol's concentration that saved him. He both saw and felt the spell as it hit him. He didn't have much experience with magic, but thankfully his mind was able to react faster than his body was. The maneuver was expended almost before he realized it, but it was still well spent in his own mind, especially when he saw the injured man in front of him drop unconscious.

With two of his opponents down, and a spell coming from an unknown source, one that he could only assume wasn't meant solely for him, Tastol decided the best thing to do was bluff, or appear to. He lifted his eyes to lock with the larger man. He then brought his katana up and around, swinging it briefly in front of him before flicking it back to the side, flicking the blood of his fallen foes from it. "Do you feel the doubt clouding your mind?" He asked confidently as he adopted the stance that could best take advantage of such doubts. He didn't attack though, didn't need to, not just yet anyway. With every miss, their own doubt would eat away at their resolve, it simply remained for him to ensure that they missed.
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby Shin on Thu May 12, 2011 12:51 pm

Davlamin pushed himself off the ground with his good arm, the bolts dug into his flesh sending waves of pain coursing through him every time he moved. He looked on with satisfaction at the work his spell did, the two men that had been stalking near him were now stopped in their tracks, arms out stretched in front of them as they panicked because of their loss of sight and vision.

However, there were still three men standing, one of which that wasn’t wearing a molted gray cloak. Body posture alone alerted the ever vigilant Gish to as where everyone stood, and while Dav didn’t consider Tastol an ally he was sure he wasn’t an enemy, at least not yet.

--

Two bolts were fired at Tastol, the large man then dropped the crossbow (which seemed puny in his large hands) and pulled forth the giant wavy looking great sword, a flamberge. The entire length of the weapon neared six feet in length and yet he hefted it with little effort in one hand, stalking towards Tastol.

The other man, much smaller then his counterpart, pulled forth a thin bladed rapier and darted towards Tastol as well, only to change his course once Davlamin rose from the ground.

“Eh boss, dis one isn’t deed.” He screeched and came rushing in tip first two skewer the barely standing Dav.

--

Tastol would face an entirely different problem all together, a large mountain of a man closed the distance with great strides, his weapon rushing forward in a great swing from right to left that promised death to anything it hit.
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby luciandevine on Sat May 14, 2011 3:18 am

Tastol's knees were bunched, ready to move. His eyes watched his opponents. As ready as he was though, crossbow bolts moved fast. He did his best dodge them, and managed to evade one. He gave an audible grunt though, as one landed solidly just below his left shoulder. Despite the pain though, he saw the large man coming at him, and knew there was no room for weakness, not here, and certainly not now. The only real saving grace that he could see, was the fact that it was just the big man with the bigger sword, as opposed to the both of them.

The man closed the distance in a hurry, and Tastol was not happy to see that he wasn't nearly as clumsy as he could have been, given his stature and the size of the weapon he wielded.

The horizontal slash that came, full of the man's momentum and strength, was well telegraphed and easy to predict, but Tastol was already flinching at what he was going to do.He adjusted his stance, trying to brace for the blow as he took his katana in two hands.

The ring that sounded from the contact of the two blades was almost deafening. Sparks flew, and Tastol was sent staggering backwards before the strength of the man before him. The katana he held vibrated so violently from that contact, that he almost dropped it. He actually had to let go with his left hand to stop the vibrations from working up his arm towards his injured shoulder.

Tastol cursed silently to himself when he finally stopped staggering backwards and stood strong once more. The man's strength was incredible, and the blade he held was strong. Tastol was truly thankful for the weapon he held then, knowing that both the design of the katana itself, and the metal it was made of were about all that had stood between him and certain death.
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby Shin on Thu May 19, 2011 1:22 pm

The large man, Altas, let out a hearty laugh as Tastol was tossed back by the sheer force of his swing, had the swing connected Altas knew his opponent would be in two. He smiled fiercely and continued his assault, stepping forward with that mammoth wavy greatsword.

As he stepped in to attack he brought his weapon above his right shoulder and slashed diagonally and down at Tastol. Again, the attack was a kill shot, to be hit by hit would certainly cleave any normal man in half.

Altas was preparing something special for his comparatively small opponent should he avoid the attack. He would let go of the blade part way through the swing with one hand, and unless the attack was blocked to prevent him from reaching out Altas would try to wrap one of those large paws around the scruff of Tastols neck and toss him to the side.
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby luciandevine on Sun May 22, 2011 12:34 pm

Tastol heard his opponent laugh, and that didn't do much for his own confidence. The man was clearly confident, and likely had a reason to be. Men such as this didn't often get overpowered, outmatched, or defeated.

As the large man stepped forward, Tastol did something that could be seen as strange, he sheathed his blade. Even still though, there was a certain determination in Tastol's blue eyes. He watched the man come forward, but didn't give any ground himself, but rather fell back into a fighting stance, his right hand still resting on the hilt of his still-sheathed katana.

The way the man held his sword telegraphed what he was going to do, and Tastol was going to be ready for it. No sooner did the man step forward with his right foot and start that swing, than Tastol took a step of his own, stepping forward and to his left. As he stepped, he had already started to loose his blade from it's home. "Insightful Strike!" The blade leaped from it's sheath, wielded now by more than just the wiry arm that gripped it, rising in a diagonal slash from left to right, striking with the full force of his concentration, rather than the limited strength of his own arm.
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby Shin on Wed May 25, 2011 9:37 pm

Being much larger then Tastol, using gravity to his advantage and having a much larger weapon one would think Tastols movements were sound and sure, and they would have been, except that Altas was anything but normal.

As Tastol stepped to the side and struck Altas also shifted and brought his blade down to meet the Katana. The move while simple in nature showed Altas’s true agility and swordsmanship with his large weapon.. The weapons met with a thunderous clap and for a moment Tastols sword pushed Altas’s back even with all his advantages but the technique behind Tastols attack could only support him for so long before superior strength, weight and gravity would press down on him.

“You will die, scum. And I will devour you..” The large barbaric man said behind gritted teeth and let go of his blade with one hand, stepping to the side guiding Tastols blade to the side and striking out with a punch at the smaller mans face.

“DIE!!”
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby luciandevine on Thu Jun 16, 2011 10:28 am

Tastol couldn't help but be amazed at the speed and skill the large man possessed. He wouldn't have thought that a man so large would have been able to get such a big weapon down in time to block his attack. Despite that though, there was naught for him to do but carry through with it and hope he had enough to break through.

When Tastol felt the large man's arms start to give, even that little bit, he became hopeful, putting even more power into his arms, trying to force his attack through. The very second he felt that momentum stop though, he knew the recognized the vulnerability of his position and chose a different path. He used the large man's own strength, letting himself get pushed backwards as he stepped back, trying to put some distance now between himself and his larger opponent.

Despite the fact that he gave up that small bit of ground though, Tastol's eyes still burned red with his fiery determination, showing anything but defeat as he held his blade straight out, the bottom of the hilt just a bit in front of him, and centered on his body. He still had a plan, but it was not one he was looking forward to against such a powerful opponent, but he didn't have much choice. "Pearl of Black Doubt." He said once more, refreshing in his own mind the stance that he hoped would help him evade his opponents attacks, and hopefully benefit from it.
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Re: Chasing the Unknown (Open)

Postby Herald_of_Fate on Fri Jun 17, 2011 4:16 pm

Where am I...? Why is it so bright here all of a sudden?

He didn't remember anything...only found himself lying in a patch of sun-dried grass, struggling with an inexplicable sense of vertigo. His hands raised to his shaved head, knocking the metallic goggles there to the ground as he rose unsteadily to his knees, his obsidian armor glistening in the sunlight. The man opened his eyes slowly, testing the waters of his vision. Suddenly seeming panicked, he reached to his neck, where nothing but a greasy circular stain encircling his throat remained. His eyes adjusted and he craned his neck down to look expectantly. It was gone and with it, the Voice.

I no longer am connected to the Ministers. My pulse limiter is gone. I must have shifted...

That prospect was terrifying...Eight had to struggle against the surge of nightmarish scenarios playing through his head. Something he knew wasn't even possible without his 'collar' being lost. He knelt and retrieved his goggles, fitting the eyepieces over his translucent gray eyes. The image that met his sight, filtered by the goggles' HUD program, was one that puzzled him. The fact he'd shifted was confirmed in the style and cut of the clothing of the three men some 50 yards distant,in the ruins that rose behind them, and in the color and hue of the sun overhead. He'd shifted to across the plane, a feat no one else had accomplished with direction from the Ministers in nearly an age. It wasn't one he recognized from his programming, still accessible only because it had been pumped into his cerebrum since birth, but different from the one he'd left...whose name he didn't even know.

Two of the men were locked in battle, seemingly unaware of his presence. And he didn't need a full combat analysis to see that that the youth was physically outmatched. It seemed, however, that the young man wasn't relying on strength, but skill and precision to decide. Voices that he heard from ruins spoke of at least three other men present and the one stumbling about away from the battle wore the same colors as the huge warrior fighting the boy. It appeared the younger man was outnumbered, which didn't sit well with Eight. Still he didn't move. Was it his place? He was a Xelion Legionnaire, the mainstay of the Ministers' all-conquering armies, a brutal monster sent to subdue and subjugate the entirety of life to the sum total of the Ministers' will. Though he'd killed hundreds of time without remorse, it was by the unbreakable mental command of the Ministers' through the limiter around his neck. Left to his own choice, a situation unique in its infrequency, he had little idea what to do. Logic was his fallback, where he went when all else seemed lost. The large barbarians and his cohorts formed the largest threat, both numerically and morally in choosing to attack a youth. Should they succeed in killing the boy, it was reasonable to anticipate them trying to do the same to Eight for having witnessed it. The boy, while still a threat, would be less apt to attack one who'd just helped him out of a certain death scenario. And if he did, he posed a far lower risk than six armed men.

Reaching to his belt, Eight drew out a thin rod of metal, perhaps 12 inches long and an inch wide. It weighed far more than it would look to, but its weight was familiar to Eight, his lithe frame bolstered by the experimentation and innovations of the Ministers' scientific division. "Gram, Ten-No-Ryu..." he whispered, drawing himself into a combat stance. The rod vibrated in his hand as it expanded, flowing into the command's shape, that of an ornate gold hilted nodachi. The rod, known as Gram, was a veritable arsenal of weaponry, condensed into the rod's simple shape. Eight rushed forward as soon as the transformation was complete, his powerful legs carrying him quickly enough to produce quite a dustcloud behind him. A bit faster than he'd anticipated, even. The gravity here seemed significantly less than his home plane. As he closed the distance to the youth and his opponent, the Legionnaire aimed a vicious diagonal stroke, moving upward, right to left at the larger man, aimed to cleave his punching arm off just behind the elbow, continue past the shoulder, the long blade enough to cleave through his stout neck and possibly sever his head. Even if blocked somehow, the blade was made of a metal known as Harmonium, its properties rendering it capable of producing harmonic resonance when it impacted an object and transferring the impact's energy into whatever it struck. In most things, it produced at the least grievious amounts of internal damage, if not a shattering effect. Trained by countless battles across a multitude of worlds, his strike's precision, speed, and technique would be near flawless. The huge barbarian would be injured greatly, if not killed by this type of attack connecting.
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