Warrior's Test

Tirgran tossed aside his tremendous axe and tore off the leather armor on his chest. With powerful steps, he walked into the arena and was greeted by a chorus of yells and screams. The expression on his face was grim, however. There were many Gaea who did not make it out of this test alive, and there were even more who were injured horribly. He discarded the thought; these Gaea were weak and deserved the end they met. He heard roars and shrieks of rage as the other gates opened. He clenched his fists, ready for battle.

A group of ten Diras stepped into the arena, their weapons drawn and ready. "All Warmasters initiate the battle," he heard the voice of his father echo in his head as he charged with a mighty cry to match the crowd. He swung his right fist in a wide arc, smashing it into the side of one Dira's helmeted head. There was a satisfying crunch as the steel buckled under the pressure of Tirgran's massive fist. The Dira flew back and crashed into one of its allies as the other eight rushed him. His massive body moved quickly, narrowly dodging the blade of the first oncoming Dira. As the monstrosity stumbled, Tirgran lifted his knee, bringing it into the armored gut of the Dira. As the foolish Dira doubled over, Tirgran turned and put all his weight behind a full-bodied tackle. His victim fell quickly, and a rain of smashing blows ensured its death. He rose and brought his hand up over his head. He caught the swinging arm of a Dira attacking from behind and tossed the dishonorable beast over his shoulder easily. He stepped on its arm and pulled, easily separating the arm from the torso. Turning viciously, he slammed the grisly weapon into the face of another Dira. His momentum carried him into another Dira, who died moments after a deadly headbutt from Tirgran's thick skull. Two Dira charged his flanks and he gathered his weight underneath him. With a mighty leap, Tirgran's massive form took easily to the sky. The Dira, in awe, stared up at him and crashed into one another. When Tirgran fell, he barely noticed the crunching bones of his now-dead enemies. The last three stood well out of their foe's reach, wary of his every move. Tirgran, however, wasn't finished. Gathering his strength, he unleashed a massive punch toward one of his enemies. The beast flinched, then stood laughing as nothing struck him. Its face instantly froze in terror as the force of the sonic punch punctured its body mere seconds after its mockery of Tirgran. The final two turned to run, but found themselves trapped not by the walls of the arena, but by Tirgran's fighting prowess. The Wheel of War rose from the pedestal in the arena's center, causing Tirgran's heart to race. He hadn't broken a sweat during his battle with the Dira, but he knew as well as everyone else that in order for him to truly attain Warmaster status, he would have to face one final battle.

As he strapped on the Wheel of War, the crowd fell silent. The Dira were merely entertainment, but this was the real test. Drawing twin axes, he faced the massive east gate. As it opened, a great Primal stepped forth, its massive body covered in bone spikes. It roared, its Draconic mouth a mesh of teeth made for ripping open even the toughest bodies. Tirgran shook off the fear. He knew the Primal Dragon was young, but he knew the terror a Dragon brought even in its youngest years. And he also knew that he would have to use his bare hands to deal the final blow, otherwise, he would only be half a warrior.

Screaming his wrath to the sky, he rushed the Dragon in true Warmaster fashion. It swung its massive claw at him, knocking him into a wall. He barely managed to leap away in time as its spiked tail slammed into the spot he occupied moments before. He landed clumsily, still clearing his head from the ringing blow. He sheathed one axe and drew out a javelin, hefting it in his hand. Taking careful aim, he hurled the javelin at the beast. The weapon pierced the beast's skin far below Tirgran's intended mark, sinking into its shoulder rather than its eye. He drew out his other axe again as he rolled away from the powerful claws of the Dragon. His body glistened with sweat as he moved around quickly to avoid the beast's attacks. Fatigue was starting to tear at his judgment as he accidentally leaped into instead of away from one of its claws. He fell to the floor heavily, but rose despite the protests of his weary body. Blood poured from a wound in his shoulder, and suddenly, he felt madness taking him.

The Gaean Wrath took his pain, his fatigue, and his sanity away all at once. He rushed the monster with a howl of rage and power, dodging attacks that were, at first, tiring to avoid. He tore into the beast with his axes, slashing wildly at its legs. Leaping up, he landed on the beast's back. The Dragon shook wildly, trying to dislodge the desperate Tirgran, but wrath kept him in place. He hurled the axes at the monstrosity's head and watched them sink into its skull. He then pulled a glaive from the Wheel of War and stabbed it into the beast's back. The monster reared back, bellowing in pain, as Tirgran ran up its back dragging the glaive along. He reached the beast's head and hurled himself into the air, freeing the glaive as he did. He launched the glaive at the beast's head, its heavy blade piercing the beats right between the eyes. Tirgran raised his hands above his head and clasped them together. As he fell, he pounded both fists into the beast's muzzle and dragged it to the ground. A massive crunch told Tigran that the impact had broken the beast's jaw. He walked over to its eye, which was dull with stunned dazzlement and death. Gathering his strength again, Tirgran launched a massive punch at the beast's head. A few seconds later, the monster let out a final screech of pain as the pressure from the sonic punch splattered blood and brains all over. The crowd roared louder than the Dragon had as Tirgran lifted his hands in triumph.