Adventures of Bane. P1 The Duel

Written and Edited by Theodore Ramwell and Matthew Kong.

The Duel

 

By Ethan Remore

 

Each step forward dragged Bane further down as if the weakness of fear made each step of his foot a mile longer than it was. Each thought cut through into his brain creating fear in the dark crevasses of his mind, it was here he discovered a new found emotion.

Terror... 

For fear had affected him as if it had been plague, a plague of his wilting soul. May their souls be made of sand or iron it does not matter? Fear can corrupt any man. 

All at once his palms felt sweaty, his bladder felt ready to burst and his breathing became ragged and uncontrolled.

Then finally he was there and Lertane besides him tall and powerful, his spite freezing alongside him like a winter’s night.

“Ladies and Gents! Women and children! Rodents and Peasants!” The arena master screamed to the audience and they screamed back with sounds of rolling thunder. “Welcome to the Crimson fist Arena!” 

With that the crowd rose bellowing to their feet the peasants stamping their feet in union and shouting random things that only added to the tension that was so thick that even the sharpest sword would go blunt cutting it.

The higher class and more civilised classes merely nodded and clapped quietly trying to elitist their instincts. Not that the difference was clear enough with the fact they had cushioned seats and a separate seating area in the better position to the huge indoors arena. Although they thought themselves as great as a silver spoon freshly polished by one of their supreme stiff butlers- they of course didn’t mind watching two men cut each other to bits just as long as there wasn’t any blood on them...

The arena master smiled as the peasants stopped their screaming to instead start a chant.

 

“RIP, CLASH, BLOCK AND CUT!”

“PUNCH, BITE, KICK AND BUTT!”

 

 They carried this on for about two minutes until it faded as certain individuals confused others by shouting the wrong words until finally they went back to the simple stamp of their feet.

Amongst the crowd of common folk, poets stood amongst them. They were not greats but had always planned to be... Delicate and mild men of refined taste, they stretched their heads high and puffed their chests. In hollow voices, they spoke their prose, themed on the glory there was of a death in the arena. Their prose fell on deaf ears... 

There were ticket holders selling tickets to anyone stupid enough to spend the little money they had. Of course it didn’t matter because if they won the holders would accidently disappear when the fight had finished. So the old saying went well in the city of Mearnthas. “Gambling’s for idiots who have money to spend.”

Panic was running wild through Bane’s body as if it was a horse spooked by a loud Bang near its ears- only it could not bolt because it had each of its legs shackled to the floor making it clear they had no control of their own fate. Bane was a warrior and probably the best in a thousand miles.

He had tasted the awful sensations of fear before. It was like a bitter lemon to most people and that's what made Bane different to every other person. He liked lemons...

Terror was something entirely new to the young man during his twenty three years he had never felt the awful gut wrenching feelings of his mental shields protecting him from the fear been torn down so easily by sharp axes of burning daemons, turning him from a stone cold killer into a heap of nerves.

“This place...” Bane muttered so wearily. His words seemed to dribble out of his lips. “It’s a death factory...” He gave a long cold sigh. “And I plan not to die here today...” An icy talon crawled down his spine.

One of the men from the crowd hurled a rotten cabbage over the fence to land a mere ten foot from where bane stood. It reminded him of what death looked like and the exact reason that Bane would spit in death’s eye, once again...

A fire boiled in the young man’s heart and a sombre calm spread over him. 

A sudden new bolt of emotion began to strike at him. The baying of the crowds making his pounding of his heart grows loud.

The seed was planted.

His eyes narrowed.

His hand closed around his sword hilt.

Hate was reborn... 

 

 

Ethan Remore.

Theodore Ramwell, Matthew Kong.

Author's Note

Theo dreamed it then wrote it - Matt edited what was wrote then added more to the end. Then Theo edited the last bit. Hope you like please feel free to comment and rate as such... Also a great thanks to Serah who has kindly taken the time to help us with some grammar problems, Cheers!

Reviews

[bluessadmood]

Yes this was good ..i am sure you have planned a well plotted plan
i liked how you told about the deep feelings in him and the roll of his thoughts
this is the beginning ,and i always judge a writing from its beginning
i was expecting to turn to the next chapter but there was not
if you keep at the present pace and keep the tension building and other thoughts
that i expect to keep flowing with it..i think it will look great
as i said the start was good ,but you will have to keep the momentum
of this ..startle me and i am your fan to the end ,ha ha
lovely write..

[Pierce Bivens]

Pretty darn good. Check out my write. :)

[Pierce Bivens]

Pretty darn good. Check out my write. :)

[JelliFyshKissUs]

A great description of Bane and the racous arena, pining for bloody violence. There we a few grammatical eras and a few places that could use some tweaking. But all and all, an excellent piece.

[Nik Dendera]

No time is wasted jumping right in to the story. Which isn't always a bad thing, though no information is given to time line-when is it set, where? It doesn't hinder the piece per say, but would give it a bit of depth and allow the reader to connect with the story on another level.

Very well written, I'm not one for metaphors (I'm quite a direct person), but you use them well here and although parts of it seem a little over the top to me, for those who like this particular genre, I'm sure it is an excellent read based purely on the quality of writing.

I'll read the other parts as and when.

There are parts such as the audience and my use of metaphors for a good reason, creating contextual information is important, the crowd are hencefourth a context. There is no such thing as an unrealistic metaphor only a disimilar metaphor...

[Quaddeth]

Emotions immediately are the centrefold of the story this benefits you in a number of ways, initially capturing our perception from then onwards.

'Peasents' draws us to the presumption it is an archaric piece of prose, which serves as contextual information although more would have been a lot of interest to me personally

"trying to show they were above lower society" seems to be awkward, maybe change it to 'exclaiming their elitist instincts' just a suggestion though mate. I don't normally like or enjoy stories but this is a great write, well done to both of you.

[Coyote Poetry]

A very good chapter. To create anger and desire to fight must take time and effort. I like this story. A view into the mind and the thoughts of a man. A outstanding chapter. Thank you.
Coyote

[Matthews Reggie]

good start, creating an atmosphere of terror, i also liked the paras about high-low class division and gambling... a fine read.... gud job...

[Jas Alejandrino Ramos]

you have nice wide imagination to write this story.....i like it