(Originally posted by Rodge the Linkbot on Thu Aug 27, 2009)
Click swallowed. The instinct to run was a hard thing to fight off, especially if it's helped you over and over through your life. He felt his body trying to turn, his legs trying to move, but he forced himself to stay in place. His legs started shaking under him, his arms rattling the blades in his sleeves, you could see his shield vibrating. His face turned pale.
Kara would have noticed if she hadn't let go of him and slithered forward a little, enough to talk to the first Dark Lord. Everybody else was to focused on this ancient nightmare to even see him in pure terror.
He looked side to side, then stepped back some. Then a little more. A few more steps. The old saying was true, when a bear is chasing you don't try to outrun the beast, just trip your friend.
Before taking his last step he paused, that wasn't Click talking. It was Slate. He closed his eyes and took a deep breathe, letting both blades pop out of his sleeves, then got in stance. Yes, running was still a good option, and frankly, still sounded like a great idea. Then again, they were all staying. Assuming they survived, him running wouldn't come across as all that heroic, and maybe a part of him wans't willing to let them face this guy alone.
He wasn't going to be on the front-line, but he sure wasn't running either. Well, maybe if they don't have any other options left, but for now, he was going nowhere.
Click's eyes slid across the room, scanning each person. Thoughts ran through his mind, fight? Yeah right. But he could predict what this guy was going to do next, he could tell them where to dodge, where to attack, where to block. He wasn't a warrior, but, he was something. He hoped.