Who will Stand

Roleplay Roleplay by KORATH
On Thu, Feb01, 2018 5:30pm America/Phoenix
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Who will Stand
*Scene opens showing highlights from the attack last Ravage, ending with Korath being taken to the hospital. As the images continue they slowly begin turning a darkening shade of red that goes black cutting off the video feed.


???: "I'm really getting sick of hospital rooms."


Another scene begins, this time in a snowy glade lit up by moonlight. The area seems to be at peace, but the sounds of combat can be faintly heard within the trees. The cameras approach the sound but pull up short as a huge shape looms up in the darkness, the sounds coming from behind it. As the image focuses, we see that the object in front of the camera is a great bearskin cloak, giving us a hint of who is nearby. A moment later we see Korath, in the middle of one of his workouts. He his pounding away on an eight foot section of oak, the section his fists and feet connect with is worn and stained with the sweat and blood of unprotected skin. With a roar, we see him drive a hard right straight into the wood, a very audible crack follows as the log starts to split. As Korath continues the pounding a stream of curses begins fueling his strikes.


"ARROGANT LITTLE SH*T!"


*Crack


"ACID SPEWING CUR!"


*Crack


"SNIVELING SH*TBOOT!"


*Crack


"Jävla feg son till a svimning get!"


*Crack


*Crack


*Crash


The oaken strike target splits in two and falls to either side of the enraged Korath. He throws back his head and unleashes such a mighty yell that snow falls from the tree limbs surrounding him. Korath drops to his knees, his great shoulders heaving from his exertion and rising anger. Slowly his head turns to the side, not quite enough to see behind him, and he speaks.


"How long have you been there?"


(Off camera) "Långt nog Alecsandr, du förlorar kontakten med verkligheten."


Korath: (Swedish to English) "Min verklighet skiljer sig från din gamle man.... I should use my English, they need to understand me."


He nods in the direction of the camera crew.


Korath: We shall speak later, I need to address my guests.


Korath stands, brushing dirt and snow from his knees. He turns, looking feral with his hair and beard thrown askew from his workout, the look in his eyes enough to cow a weak man. he strides past the camera crew and retrieves his cloak. As he throws it around his shoulders and adjusts, he addresses the camera.


"Sometimes that's all I need, sometimes all I need to do is to unleash my rage into my workouts and that is all it takes for me to forget what has happened. Alas, tonight is not one of those nights. No, tonight I need more, tonight I need blood. That is for later, now I need to again address a pup...no Syndicate isn't a pup anymore. He's just a smug bastard in need of culling. I had every intention of leaving the arena last week without confrontation, but I guess the lesson given was received too well. You and Darkness, in an act of cowardice, attacked the messenger. You left while the medics looks over me, high fiving each other and being very American, as though what the two of you did was a major accomplishment. Well Sydney, I will say this..."


Korath pauses before continuing, staring up at the great moon hanging overhead, his face gone somber.


"No more lessons."


He looks back down, the anger slowly showing on his face.


"No more games."


He let's the bear hood fall from his head.


"No more restraints."


His next words explode out.


"NO MORE HOLDING BACK!"


Korath takes a moment, attempting to compose himself.


"This Ravage, neither side enters with regrets, this Ravage, I care not for what or for who the fans cheer. This Ravage I only care for one thing, ending your life. Since you gave your true name Syndicate I shall also use mine. I Alecsandr William Larsson, swear I will end you Sydney Maxwell Irving. I will paint the mat will your blood and display your broken body to the world. You and I will enter the ring as the final match this Ravage, and only one of us will leave upon his own feet. Those are my intentions, as you have declared yours, only one of us will be able to carry out our plans. Make your peace Syndicate, and fear The Nordic Nightmare."


Korath then walks past the camera towards the denser forest, picking up a large bow and quiver of arrows as he enters. The mystery voice from earlier greets him, and a glimpse of the man enters the camera lens, pale blond hair and a large forearm wrapped in bronze. the two walk off, chatting in a low voice, the scene fades out leaving behind the Nordic Nightmare logo

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