──╥─╖ ╥─╖ ╓──╖╓╖ ──╥── ╖ ╖
║ ║ ║ ╙╖ ║ ║║ ║ ║ ║
║ ╟╖╓╖ ║ ║╓╖╓╓ ║ ║╟ ║╥╖╖╖╟ ╟╖
║ ║║╟╜ ║ ╓╜╓╢║║ ║ ║║ ║║ ║║║ ║║
╨ ╜╜╙╜ ╨─╜ ╙╜╙╢ ╙──╜╜ ╨╜ ╙╜╙╜╜╜
a short story by Liam the lemming
The first round was over. The battleground was strewn with wounded and
dying trackers. Silence filled the air as they all contemplated their
Leviathan had prepared himself well. He had fought well, after a long hard
period of preparation. His defeat had shocked many; even many of those
seasoned trackers that had made it into the final round were taken by
surprise. The fall of one of the Knights of Kosmic wasn't anticipated by
Blackwolf, hailing from the far lands of Mystique, was another of those
who, despite faring well previously, had fallen by the wayside. Lemm
looked across and sighed. He used the same weapons, the ones he always
practised with. They were old and rusty now; he needed new ones.
Lemm himself had made that mistake. He felt confident that, despite the
simplicity and age of the weapons he used, he had enough technical skill
and practice in battle to achieve big things with them.
Only now, in contemplation of his defeat, did he see how foolish he had
been. When he brandished the mystic SaWsYnThS, his opponents just laughed.
He gave as good as he got with the saxen, however. His percussive shield,
however, was chopped to bits by the mighty judges, relentlessly tearing
his defence to shreds.
And now he lay, helplessly, on the battlefield... dying.
- The Day Of Truth, Liam the lemming 1996
The Day Of Truth
by Liam the lemming
by Mick Rippon