It's here!
Armour: Molten Armour (Vanity - Standard)
Weapon: Uzi (High-Velocity Bullet); Molten Bow (Ichor Arrows); Arkhalis
Acc(12/12): Charm of Myths, Ankh Shield, Terraspark Boots, Luxor's Gift, Deific Amulet, Counter Scarf, Crown Jewel, MOAB, Harpy Ring, Aero Stone, Skyline Wings, Warrior Emblem, Sniper Scope
Health: (400/400)
*Drop...drop...drop*
Time was slow.
Ticking slowly in time with damp moldy drippings.
In time with the slow crawl of pale smattering lichen, and sour water and the singular fly that wandered drunkenly upon the thick, humid air. In time with the rumble of stress and strain that filled the chamber from end to end - so grating it pierced his head and filled his skull with thorns. It stirred betwixt his eyes. It stretched and stretched until at any moment, The Terrarian swore the very fabric of reality would shred and crumble to pieces. It felt as if the air and the bricks and the waterstained walls would be brushed aside like a curtain over a window and reveal some lurking, awful existence glimmering in the dark.
...
He heard his heartbeat loud, beating in tandem with the billowing rush of air in his lungs. Electricity zipped in his veins as he stood there, heels planted to the floor and neck craned painfully to stare at the ground between his feet. Despite that he was now far away from The Stone Golem, his blood still screamed at him. It boiled and frothed, causing him to shiver and drool in a way he so greatly despised, he could scarcely bear to remove his helmet. Whereas in the past this violent abberant nature had warned him of dangers and granted him an advantage over his foes - today it had been proven a detriment. He fought against his blood. He suppressed it. And despite everything in him begging that he draw his blade and prepare for battle, he refrained...
He scolded himself. He filled his head with meaningless encouragements. He wrestled with the anxiety that boiled in his guts and he did he best not to tremble so terribly. What a wretched creature he was... not only must he fight the whole world, but even his own body saw fit to rebel against him.
(*rumble*)
The ground trembled... then went still. The Terrarian did not look up. Per his instructions, he kept his eyes keenly focused on the inscription on the floor. The portal had de-activated almost immediately after he came through, the mystical shimmering surface reverting to nothing more than a ring of papers arranged on dilapidated cobblestone. The Guide had warned him of this. The Terrarian took the warning to heart and simply remained where he was. For although he wasn't physically tired (he very rarely was) some part of him was absolutely overwhelmed. He was emotionally exhausted. He understood the desire to lay down and shut one's eyes and simply let time slip by. He yearned to be back in his garden, trimming his lawn and tending his flowers. To feel the gentle heat of the sun on the back of his neck. To feel the breeze tousle his hair and thread his eyelashes. Then, when the sun sank in the sky and the air became cool, the cooking pot would begin to emit all manner of aromas that he had slowly grown to enjoy. The smell of rabbit stew. The scent of dizzyingly strong liquor. The crackling of the roaring fire and The Guide's endless chatter of...
The Terrarian blinked.
The image faded from him.
He dipped his head and re-focused on the worn cobblestones.
...
Because everything had gone still.
As still and as silent as death. The air scarcely moved. The wandering fly had fled. The walls were leaning in upon him, curving high over his head as if leering down to witness some grotesque execution. His blood was stirring up once more. The thorns in his brain were tearing up against his skull. The air seemed far too heavy a burden for his frame to bear. Once more, The Terrarian was filled with a gnawing sense that something was coming. But even so, he did not draw his blade. Perhaps he was stupid. Perhaps he was naive. Perhaps he was emotionally defective... but at the very least, he would establish mastery over his own bodily urges. He had been brought low - but he wouldn't delve into the dregs.
...
Ah. It was time.
With a gentle hum, The Portal flickered to life.
The Terrarian spread his wings to steady himself as he leaned over the glassy pool. He wanted to get this over with. Once he retrieved The Beetle Shell casings, they could leave this terrible place and return to the surface. Perhaps, when this was over, he could find some garden to sit in, or a place to watch the sun for a while. With how chaotic his life has been recently, and with how terrible his blood was making him feel, he longed for the boredom of meaningless rest.
(*rumble... creak*)
Silence once more.
The Terrarian stared into the shimmering surface and counted his breaths.
One... Two...Th-
*CRACK*
Suddenly he was... flying?
No, he'd been struck. He'd been thrown.
By what?! A cannonball? A mace? He scarcely got a glimpse of it before struck him in the chin with such a great noise that his teeth went loose at the roots and his vision went white. He felt the vertebrae in his neck fracture as he, despite all of frantic flapping, collided against the opposite wall and collapsed in a confused heap on the ground. What happened?! What was that? The Terrarian groaned as he scrabbled to his elbows, then to his knees. He raised his eyes.
...
And there it was.
The Blood Steeped Golem.
It was alive! No, it had been activated! The tremendous stone statue creaked as it moved, every motion jerky and locking in at right angles. The ground boomed as the heavy steps slowly approached his struggling form until it loomed high over him. It was tall and wide and heavy - so large and indomitable that The Terrarian could scarcely imagine himself defeating such a thing. On it's right knee were the marks of his efforts. Several long scratches and the crumbling in the armour was all he was able to accomplish in the three hours he had labored over the dormant idol.
*Aoooooo- fwoooosh!*
There was a spark from within in the ceiling's dark shadow. The noise of flint being struck against explosive tinder... then a roaring flame. A heat that stank of venom and kerosene burst forth from the golem's stone mouth with such violence, the stones glowed like molten metal. The Terrarian barely managed to leap away to avoid incineration, but his cloak and one of his wings were not spared the explosive flames. A roar emitted from deep within that artificial gullet as another explosion chased him to the other end of the room, erstwhile the slow clinking of chain links rang out as the massive fist was dragged from beside him back into its position - ready to launch once more.
And as The Golem slowly turned to face him, those shimmering yellow eyes burning with malice... The Portal beside it quietly deactivated.
...
And as he watched the shimmer vanish, and the runes that papered its borders shrivel in the flames, all the assurances and reassurances The Guide had showered him with just minutes ago rang hollowly through his head. All the promises had been lies. The solemn vows were naught but trickery. The guarantees were merely to manipulate him, and the affirmations were deceit.
Hadn't he been here before? Hadn't he learned anything? Perhaps such a thing could happen to him once...
But today, it happened again.
He'd been betrayed by The Guide, again.
...
He didn't feel the pain.
He wanted to laugh.
Some part of this was so ridiculous that it was amusing. He was the joke. He was the poor wretched idiot that had grown so soft and pathetic a mere man could lead him like a goat to the slaughter. What was wrong with him? Was he not a warrior? Did they not call him 'The Monster Knight'? Yet he was behaving more like livestock than a monster; more like a child than a knight.
He wanted to scream.
Wrathful blood was bubbling over in his veins. Deadly adrenaline was once more washing through his ragged nerves. He climbed to his feet and drew his blade, but another fist shot out and smashed through his elbow before he could guard. There was a tearing noise so terrible, The Terrarian was scarcely surprised to see his sword hand was attached by a mere sinew. He gave it a shake, detaching it entirely to twitch weakly on the ground.
Right now, he didn't care about his amputated arm.
Right now, he a man-shaped vessel filled to overflowing with hate.
He cast his gaze upon Jungle Temple's entrance and - without a single backwards glance - sprinted into its labyrinthine depths.
The noises were getting louder by the second. Howlings and crashings, the screeches of fleeing creatures. The roar of crackling flames. A cacophany echoed from the single dark corridor that led into The Jungle Temple's sacrificial chamber, and the crescendo of sound filled him with so much anxiety that The Guide's hands shook visibly as he paced nervous circles about the altar.
Did it work? He couldn't still be fighting it. Why hasn't he died yet?! Surely he must be dead by now...
The Guide was sure of his plan.
All the pieces were perfect.
On one hand, he had access to The Temple Golem - a being of stone and clay that would attack and kill any which did not bear the ancient Lihzard's protective sigils. On the other, he had a target which was something of a battle addict, and would surely devote himself wholeheartedly to bashing himself to pieces trying to destroy The Temple Guardian. The Monster Knight was unable to defeat The Golem, and The Guide had dropped it on his head, so The Knight should have died by now... so why were the noises getting louder?
Why is it coming here?!
The Guide gritted his teeth and quickly strode over to ring of enchantments that surrounded The Golem's Altar, scrambling to pick them all up and re-arrange them in a much smaller circle in the corner. As he crouched there, placing the portal's borders, he kept his ears peeled in an attempt to judge the distance of the battle. The sister portal was still outside The Temple's entrance... should he try to escape now? Teleport away and avoid whatever was coming for him? Was The Monster Knight fighting The Golem at all?! Maybe he was already dead, and the Temple Guardian had simply malfunctioned - and was fighting the lizard people and the flying snakes. Even if The Golem would not target him, it would still be dangerous for him to stay...
(*Crash...Thunk...Crack*)
On the other hand, if The Knight had somehow managed to survive or hide from The Golem's onslaught, then he could easily dispatch The Guide the moment he teleported to the surface! Choices... Choice-
*CRACK*
He startled. There was now light emitting from the mouth tunnel. The sound of flickering flames. The sound of stone ringing against metal. In the distance, The Guide could hear the faint noise of a blade ringing in it's sheath. The Golem didn't weild a sword... Could it be The Monster Knight?! The Guide wasn't going to stay to find out. Quickly, he placed down the last insignia and intitated the portal's activation.
...
The shimmering surface did not materialize. The portal did not activate. The Guide didn't panic. The stakes were too high for panicking. He took a deep breath. He checked and re-checked the angles. He re-confirmed the correct order of the runes.
He re-initiated The Portal's activation.
...
nothing.
The portal outside must have been destroyed. Perhaps The Golem accidentally shifted the runes, or - more terrifyingly - perhaps The Monster Knight had destroyed his escape plan? Now, The Guide was beginning to panic. His breath came fast. His hands shook. Within the thundering noise, a dull, metallic thudding of footsteps accelerated against the cobblestone floors. The Guide raised his head just in time to see their source hurl itself across the chamber, straight for him.
*crackle*
And in that moment, time slowed.
The flames undulated gently upon The Monster Knight's back. They blackened his armour in some places; they burned feathers and flesh in others. He was missing one arm. He wielded a blade in the other, which wrapped across his chest in preparation for a horizontal slash. His helmet had been crushed and blood spilled freely from his temple, yet despite what must have been a prodigious concussion, The Monster Knight's pale eyes were keenly focused. His expression warped with wide-eyed hate.
There was no reason behind those eyes.
Just frenzied violence.
Madness.
And before The Guide could form a single word of protest, he was nose to nose with The Monster Knight.
The blade flashed.
And the world disappeared.
When you're in a 'Daddy Issues' Competition and your opponent is MK
Rip Guide2.