Level 3 - (23/30) EXP Location: Lumbridge Word Count: 489
Agoston nodded. "Thank you, Guildarm." As he was about to leave, Kamek appeared and the two had a brief but effecient encounter. Centurion thanked the wizard koopa for his guidance and began quickly making his way over to join Tora, Poppi, and the rest of the Koopa Troop. Ingredients, getting food. That sounded all find and dandy. Resources like that were vital for an army's conquest, though Agoston never handled the logistics side of things. Usually, he did the plundering, stealing, and burning of enemy resources. All's fair in war, he supposed. Still, that was different.
Things on his...homeworld (is that the right term?) were different than they here here. Despite the fact that this placed was embroiled in almost constant conflict, it was clear it was unnatural. People were trying to put a stop to it. The Centurion was born and raised in a place of eternal conflict. Peace was a dirty word or an unattainable dream. At least here, once Galeem is destroyed, there can be a happy ending. His Emperor had tried his best, but not even the Empire could take over the entire world, at least not easily. They had been making steady progress over the last 200 years, but this Galeem took over entire universes in a single day! Really made one think. About the nature of power and how one uses it. The Centurion glanced down briefly at his enhanced form and summoned great heat from within. Made one think indeed. He wondered if would keep the power he had earned when he returned to his homeland. What could he do with it? He could smite a thousand enemies of the Emperor if he so wished.
Or perhaps he could do something different. No time for thoughts like these now- Agoston didn't even know if he was going to survive all this nonsense. Best to focus on the current war effort.
Taking the guild masters advice, the now slightly less armored man began to hurry, breaking into a light jog. The forests to the east, or the plains to the south of that. Centurion, with the help of Kamek's advice, oriented himself to the south east. He had travelled considerable distances in his time as a a centurion. Marches lasted for months, journeys in total could last years. It was fair to say he had spent most of his life outside the Empire he fought to protect.
His Gladius was thankfully a bit more graciously sized since his recent slight shrinkage. He didn't mind at all. Now it was more of a short sword than an annoyingly small dagger. Still, he felt more comfortable with his fists than ever before. Heating these suckers up and smacking them with his new skill? They would pack quite the wallop- as long as he could get in range.
Centurion was on his way to reunite with the crew of people gathering ingredients for the hungry.
Level 3 - (23/30) EXP Location: Lumbridge Word Count: 276
Agoston found a nearby stream and looked at himself in the rippling reflection. His buzzcut was now tinged with steel white, and his eyes had a striking white core within the flames. His form shrunk, and to be honest he was glad for it. It would probably make it easier to fly if he ever wanted too, and being so tall made him feel clunky. He still looked just as strong as he was, though, which was excellent. Physical strength was always important to the Centurion, though in many other worlds it seemed a variety of other skills were very highly valued as well.
One thing he noticed was an immediate uptick in martial skill, similar to his own military training, but with extra tricks. He felt like he could take on anyone in a hand to hand fight. Agoston stood from the stream and boxed the air, finding himself moving with startling fluidity and explosiveness in his movements. It felt good. Ryu, even in his corrupted state, had helped the righteous cause with this gift.
With a new freedom in his joints, Agoston took the short walk back to town. He realized that the party was getting a bit discombobulated when he had a hard time finding anyone. They weren't a formal unit, they were all just stragglers. He himself had contributed to the mess. Walking into the guild hall he asked the guild master a question. "Guild Master. Do you know where my friends went? In particular, how about the, uh..." He thought for a moment. "The big turtle one. Named Bowser, King of the Koopas, you couldn't have missed him."
Agoston frowned, thinking back on his home. It was good to know that not all places were like his own. Even though he missed it dearly, there were some things that needed to change that never would. ”It’s a sad state of affairs, my friend.” He agreed, nodding. Accepting Ryu’s challenge, he expertly threw his gladius into the ground, the blade embedding itself into the dirt. Centurion took a few steps to the side, distancing himself from the blade and getting into his unarmed battle stance. It was similar to that of a boxer or an MMA fighter, his hands by his head, body tilted to the side.
The last thing the Centurion expected was for Ryu to jump and sail over him. He had to get used to fighting opponents of extraordinary ability. Infact, he was now one of those warriors with extraordinary ability himself. The kick landed between Agoston’s shoulder blades, and he stumbled forward. Whirling around he took the first punch to the jaw and just managed to block the second. Preparing to counter attack, Centurion was took off guard as Ryu exploded upwards. The Shoryuken made impact, and the bigger man was knocked into the air, off his feet. Landing with a thud on his back, Agoston growled in frustration, chastising himself. He was giving off a poor first impression! Getting to one knee he punched the ground to psych himself up, and pushed off in a lunge towards his opponent. He brought his boot up to kick Ryu in his center of mass to push him off balance. The kick was filled with power that made it difficult to catch or parry, most people simply had to get out of the way and Centurion was hoping that his opponent would dodge or get hit. These two outcomes were preferable, as he could quickly continue his offence in either outcome.
Agoston’s mighty kick surged forward, but it didn’t exactly take Ryu off guard. The world warrior did, after all, fight superhumans often. Inhaling deeply, he transitioned to a sidelong stance, leaning forward with most of his weight on his front leg with the back stuck straight out behind at an angle, like a support strut. Ryu bent his elbow, bringing bicep and tricep together to block, and he pressed his wrists together so that the off hand could support the former. The Centurion’s kick landed with a great smack, sending dust flying from Ryu’s gi and sliding him back along the ground, but the man did not budge. “Impressive.” After a moment the kick’s force came to a standstill, and Ryu pushed his arms to the side as he came around with a roundhouse kick.
The kick connected as the surprised Centurion spun, turning with the impact to disengage. He took a moment to collect himself, and raised one eyebrow. ”Apparently not that impressive.” He admitted. Ryu was powerful. Agoston would have to be smarter. This time around, he took the initiative. Lunging in, he made as if to do another kick, only this time he shifted his momentum hard and brought his foot down into a stomp against Ryu’s foot. Then he went to do a series of quick jabs against his opponents face.
Ryu’s face hardened as his opponent’s foot landed on his own, the intense impact fairly painful. Stepping backward, he tightened his focus, immediately internalizing the lesson. He stood ready as the Centurion jabbed three times in quick succession, blocking the first two. By the time the third of the series came out, however, he’d picked up on the timing. This time, he dropped as he whipped his forearm against Agoston’s knocking it to the side in a deft parry. Already tensed to move, Ryu launched off the ground into a spinning kick. “Tatsumak!” The force of his spin suspended him as he delivered two spinning kicks, the final impact knocking the Centurion away.
Centurion steadied himself, grinding his heels to halt. He was beginning to feel out his opponent, and it wasn’t looking to be an easy fight. Guard up, Agoston walked tensely towards Ryu. He threw a quick jab low towards Ryu’s abdomen, then brought his other hand to punch Ryu across the face. Centurion was hoping to get enough momentum going to lay on the assault, but his opponent was a wall, so far preventing him from gaining the advantage.
As Agoston approached with a high guard, Ryu waited half a second before preparing a low sweep. However, Agoston’s guard came down just then, and his quick strike landed on Ryu just as he started to attack. It flowed seamlessly into a the next, a strong cross. Recognizing his error, the fighter backed up, and without wasting a second brought his hands together to spark a mote of blue energy. “Hadoken!” He launched the fireball at Agoston with ease, and immediately jumped forward. If the Centurion blocked and then tried a counterattack, or tried to avoid the fireball by jumping himself, Ryu was ready.
As the warrior backed up, Centurion was ready, happy to finally have gotten some hits in without immediately taking some himself. His opponents next trick was a strange one, and a fireball was on his way, his opponent following behind it. This reminded him of a Shinobi who would harass him with ranged strikes and follow up swiftly behind him. The solution to that? Centurion lunged forward, his feet leaving the ground. He brute forced his way through the fireball with a grunt, taking the damage and emerging through the flames, delivering downwards punch to Ryu’s shoulder. Using the momentum from this he crouched a little low.
A flame started at his shoulder and trailed down his arm. ”Incredibilis!” He shouted, delivering a massive uppercut against his foe.
The armored move caught Ryu off-guard, smacking him out of his jumping attack. It left him off the ground just enough for the Centurion’s incindiary uppercut to cannon squarely into his gut. Ryu flew a short distance with a hefty gasp and tumbled along the ground. No stranger to brutal blows, he ended up on one foot and one knee, but the strike left him rattled. Immediately he set about restoring his breathing, and to do that he needed a little space. “Hadoken! Hadoken!” One after another, more fireballs flew Agoston’s way.
Centurion cracked his knuckles. As the fireballs came his way, he dodged one and blocked the other, crossing his arms infront of him, the flames colliding and dissipating across his form. Usually, he was able to follow that punch with a pounce attack, but Ryu was no usual foe. Clear of the fireballs, Centurion ran towards his opponent, trying not to let him regain his footing. Seeing the crouching Ryu, Agoston raised his foot and attempted to boot Ryu directly in the face.
Just what Ryu was waiting for. From his crouch, he executed a neutral jump, soaring over Agoston’s boot. As he fell, he let loose a weighty straight punch at his adversary’s head, then combo’d into another dragon punch. This time he landed before the Centurion, and he couched his palms to summon a brighter azure flare. He threw the EX hadoken into his foe’s path.
Centurion had planted himself on the ground after the missed kick. the fist hitting his bald head with a thwack. Turning around, he barely blocked the dragon punch and stumbled back. At the last moment, he charged, aiming to crash his fist down upon the crashing Ryu. Only then there was a massive ball of shining energy that filled his entire vision. His momentum was cancelled and he realized he was off his feet, the ball collided with his abdomen and pushed him backwards. The air was knocked out of him and the EX hadoken exploded, sending him flying through the air. ”Wooooaaaaahhhh!” He cried out in surprise as he crashed down on the ground onto his back. For a moment he stared up at the sky, blinking. After a moment, breathing heavily, he propped himself on his elbows and looked over at Ryu.
”Wow! Bene pugna!” He exclaimed heartily after a moment, struggling to his feet. His whole body hurt, but he felt rejuvenated. Eventually he wobbled upright, rolling his neck and shoulders, trying to squeeze out some of the aching.
Seeing this, Ryu relaxed. He crossed his arms, gave a smile, and said. “You fought well. I was honored.” Though his eyes bore Galeem’s red irises, the world warrior did not fight on. He approached, and offered Agoston a clap on the back. “After a bout like that, you’ve more than earned your reward. I have two spirits in my bag, but the other is for another challenger. Or, if you want another round later.” For his part, Ryu appeared to have broken a sweat, though he did not seem to be tired or in bad shape. A life of constant battle, at the expense of all else, truly did breed results.
From his bag, resting beside the shade tree on the hilltop, Ryu retrieved three spirits. Inside one’s core was a young woman with sparkling blue hair. Another harbored a burly man with a shock of blonde hair, rising like a pillar atop his head. Whichever one Agoston wanted was his for the taking. The last held a lithe man with brawling mitts and a cape.
Agoston smiled sadly, seeing the man’s red eyes and realizing his condition. All Ryu strived for was a good battle, and even now he continued on his journey, but despite that his will was not wholly his own. It wouldn’t be, not until this war was over. Still, in a way he was helping the good fight by offering his reward, even though Agoston lost the fight. Somewhere inside, there was a flare of indignity, as if him losing this fight was somehow wrong. That the Centurion deserved to win. But those thoughts were inappropriate, and Agoston had been in many fights like this before, and new how to act properly. ”Thank you, warrior. May our paths cross again.” That being said, three people were available to lend their strength to the Centurion. He did not recognize any of them, so he had to judge on their appearance whether or not they would be particularly useful to him. The blue haired woman he had no idea what powers she possessed, but the two men looked like strong fighter types. Gingerly, he reached out his hand to the Spirit that contained the man who was sensible enough to wear a fashionable cape. Palming it, he nodded gratefully at Ryu. Turning his back with a habitual flourish, he stalked back down the hill and towards Lumbridge, seamlessly removing his gladius from the dirt and placing it back in its sheathe.
A while later, he came to a stop, sitting on a stump in a clearing. He rolled the core between his hands after a little bit, hesitant. He still hadn’t gotten quite used to his new dragon based abilities, and he was already going to modify himself further? Were these changes permanent? Sighing, he decided it didn’t matter. There was a war to be one, and he wasn’t strong enough to win it as the Centurion he once was. Adapting to new circumstances was the key to victory. Resolved, he took the Spirit between his two palms and placed it carefully against his forehead, and pushed the mote into his head.
The reaction was immediate. Another surge of iridescent power filled him, altering his being, though not as wildly as it had the first time when he absorbed megadragonbowser. Agoston’s hair shortened, becoming interspersed flame red and sharp silver. Growing a touch paler, he decreased in size just a little, though not in terms of musculature. A stone-gray core appeared in his eyes within the brilliant orange. Turning bright red, his cape got larger and more elaborate, and his metal gauntlets turned to metal-studded red boxing gloves. Expertise flooded him; suddenly, boxing prowess was etched into his muscles. Adaptable, punishing, high-speed hand-to-hand combat felt like a part of him, as if it had always been there.
Rare spirit devoured: Akihito Sanada Slightly affecting his overall physique as well as the appearance of his hair and eyes (adding steely gray to the burning orange of his hair and eyes), this spirit contains lithe strength. It makes the host a little more serious, sarcastic, and cool-headed under normal circumstances but more aggressive against monsters. Confers the Strength Boxing Prodigy, making its host thoroughly well-versed in the boxing style. Also confers the Weakness Zoner’s Delight, decreasing his ability to avoid deal with projectile-reliant opponents
Level 3 - (17/30) EXP Location: Lumbridge Word Count: 264
"Thank you, guild master." The big man said as he inhaled. He gave a nod to the others in his company as he left, mainly Linkle, Din, and the Koopa King. Giving them a half of a salute he trotted out of town.
It was a relatively short treck to Ryu, certainly nothing compared to the marches of his past. The meditating man looked like he came right out of a storybook. Approaching, Agoston was about to clear his throat when Ryu noticed him anyway. Immediately the Centurion took a liking to the man on the hill. Someone he could respect. While their paths were not identical, they both followed the path of the warrior. His seemed more spiritual and self-perpetuating. From the sounds of it, Ryu fought for the sake of fighting, while Agoston served a greater cause. Still, it was no shame on the man in white's part.
"I suppose I am. I'm always looking for a good fight." He said, smirking up the hill at Ryu, looking him and down and sizing him up. The levity left Agoston's face and he glanced down at the gladius that was a bit too small for his hands. "Perhaps not, if this is a fight to the death. Too many comrades have thrown themselves to their deaths for honor. A callous waste of blood in my opinion- a life is best spent on other things. So, is this a fight to the death or submission?" Agoston asked. He looked back up at Ryu, his eyes glinting brightly in the midday light.
Level 3 - (17/30) EXP Location: Lumbridge Word Count: 262
Agoston had been listening intently to the Guild Masters offer. There were quest to embark on, rewards to be had. Like Agoston was some kind of...common mercenary! Pouting silently in the corner as yet another individual joined them on their quest to save the entire universe, this time a white-haired elderly man in remarkable shape...hardly the most remarkable thing in the room. The scale of this conflict was hard to grasp. Each one of these individuals came from a place so alien to Agoston's own. If anyone back home believed him, the bards would have enough material to write a hundred thousand ballads.
Begrudgingly, Centurion stalked up and began silently flitting between different quest cards. One in particular caught his eye. Something he could understand, something that wasn't even really mercenary work. A travelling warrior named Ryu was looking for a fight. The Centurion had run into many types like him before. Infact, it was a common thing on his world. Most of the time, it did not result in the death of either party, but sometimes the warrior was disgraced or simply looking for extremely high stakes dueling. This Ryu wanted to give a reward, so it seemed death was off the table. That was good. Fights like this should be fun and carefree. Rematching an opponent that previously bested oneself, and then besting that warrior in return was a truly remarkable feeling.
"This Ryu," Agoston began, clearing his throat and leaning toward the guild master. "Is he nearby? I am interested in accepting his challenge." He asked.