Tuesday, June 16, 2015

From slightly before dusk till slightly after dawn - Part Two



Happy E3 all my fellow gamers! Feast upon the glorious trove of delicious trailers, gorge on the hype! Before we return to our story, I’ll quickly go over a quick list of things I’m squealing like a child on Christmas about:
-          -New Doom
-         -The Last Guardian lives
-        - Final Fantasy VII Remake (mixed feelings of terror and euphoria)
-          Dishonored 2
-          Uncharted 4
-          Metal Gear 5
-          There are turning out to be way too many things to list
Needless to say things are finally looking up with such a bountiful harvest of games on the horizon. As I recall, however, I think we were in the middle of something.


Part 2

                “Scimitars are such bad-guy weapons.” Fenwick said, flipping through the pages of his spell-book. “You never see a nice guy with a scimitar, just saying.” The four adventurers, now no longer enjoying a nice rest at a tavern, faced a group of (scimitar wielding) skeletons. The nearest of the rattling fiends stepped into scimitar-ing range of Kinanar. If the skeleton could have raised an eyebrow it would have, lacking the capacity to do so it raised its notched blade into the air and took a swing at the strangely calm Paladin. The scimitar bit into the steel plate, the dwarf did not budge. The blade clattered off, leaving a scratch on the plate – nothing more.
                “My turn.” Kinanar said, his war-hammer whistled through the air and crashed into the skull of the skeleton. The dusty bone disintegrated under the weight of the blow – the rest of the skeleton’s body cartwheeled to the left and landed in a noisy pile of armor and bones. Kinanar smiled in satisfaction.
                “Really?” Chest said from across the room. The Halfling had somehow managed to make his way around the entire group of skeletons without being noticed. He now stood behind the farthest away of their enemies, his daggers were in his hands – it had been too late for his target long ago. The skeleton’s chest exploded as two small hands holding daggers exploded through it, the rest of the fiend toppled to the ground. “My turn?” Chest slid his daggers back into his hand, he reached to a nearby tower and seized the nearest tankard – he took a cautionary sniff but took a deep drink. “You talk like someone is following you around recording everything you say.” Kinanar grumbled and definitely did not blush. “Has Scrambles…oh wait nevermind he’s working on it already.” Chest dropped into the nearest seat, content to let his friends finish off the remaining enemies.
                “My skinless friend – it need not be this way.” The huge man had his arms wrapped around another of the skeletons. The demon struggled weakly in the gigantic man’s grasp – its scimitar pressed firmly to its side by the man’s arms. “Shhhhhhhh.” The big man whispered.
                “Someone should really take care of the other guy.” Chest said. “Hey Trailmix, that’s you.” Fenwick’s mouth dropped open.
                “Did you seriously just call me Trailmix?” The elf said, aghast. Chest shrugged and continued nursing his new drink. Fenwick shouted in an arcane language, three bolts of light shrieked across the room. The final skeleton paused, looked at the glowing lights slowly approaching it, and did its best to sigh. The bolts connected, the skeleton exploded into bits of ash and charred bone. “Next time you’re hungry you can find your own snacks.” Fenwick murmured, annoyed.
                “I’m trying to watch this if you don’t mind.” Kinanar said, the dwarf had pulled a chair from nearby and sat watching Scrambles attempt to calm the wriggling skeleton. “I could watch this all day, I don’t know how he does it.” The skeleton’s thrashing had become less dramatic, less panicked. Scrambles continually whispered soft words into where the skeleton’s ear would be…if it had ears…and was alive. The rusty scimitar it held dropped to the ground, it stopped fighting altogether. Scrambles lifted his head out of the crook of the skeleton’s neck and shoulder, his eyes pooling with moisture.
                “That’s right.” Scrambles said. “Suffer no more.” The skeleton’s head bowed forward.
                “How does that even work on a skeleton?” Kinanar said, not hiding his awe. The skeleton was completely still, having found some sort of peace in the scarred arms of Scrambles. In a flash, the arms flexed and pulled inward – the skeleton exploded in a gout of dust and vicious crunching. Scrambles made no loud boasts, his eyes were far away – twin trails of tears carving valleys through the dust on his face. Chest, meanwhile, he stepped out of his chair – moving toward the still ajar doors of the tavern, someone had to close them after all.  “Wait.” Kinanar said, Chest stopped – he could hear it too.
                “Seriously?” Fenwick sighed. “Do skeletons actually kill people?” He glanced around the room at the terrified bar patrons. “Oh right, normal people – they kill you guys sometimes.” He took a step toward the door, his keen ears picking up the sound of metal armor, and the smell of heat was on the air. “These are different.” Chest was no longer at the door, in fact he was no longer in sight at all. Kinanar stood up from his chair and swung his war-hammer back into his hands. Scrambles was still recovering from his latest emotional encounter, his big hands wiping away the dust covering his face.
                Four more skeletons entered the bar, the adventurers groaned. These were not your garden variety, throw 500 at them, garbage type skeleton. These were different, the air around them bent and shifted as if a great heat radiated from their bones. Armor hid most of their rattling bones, it too seemed as though it would be hot to the touch. They held long wicked blades that dragged on the ground, cutting ruts into the wooden floor of the tavern. Kinanar frowned.
                “Everyone stay down, once we clear these out we need to get those doors closed as soon as possible.” Kinanar said, he felt something stir outside in the tenebrous dark. The first skeleton was already on him. “Faster than your friends?” Kinanar said, still holding his ground.” The skeleton did not hesitate, its blade flashed through the air. Noticing the strength behind his opponent’s blow, Kinanar attempted to step out of the way – but too late. The sword sliced through his armor, and bit into the skin beneath. Kinanar grimaced, only a flesh would – but the first blood their new attackers had spilled nonetheless.

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