:: Dear Diary… I never thought of myself as a dangerous person… No. I meant as in someone who doesn’t live a dangerous life—So stop avoiding me and record my voice properly!! Geez. As I was saying I’m not the type of person who would jump off a building just to post my actions onto the Ethereal Messaging system for everyone to see to get a lot of views. Neither am I that slutty to wear showy clothing with ridiculous cuts low enough to show even the most intimate shapes of my breasts so I could get more... what was it called? Followers?...Anyway, the point is: I'm not a daring person... yet I don't know why I took a job that involves me fighting wolves… worse, it was mating season---GET BACK HERE DIARY, IT'S NOT LIKE I'M ASKING YOU TO BE MY MEAT SHIELD!! STOP - RUNNIIIIIING! ::
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<< You have entered the Forest of Arizonafall. Location recorded to your Map. >> << WARNING: You are surrounded by 20+ Enemy Units. What do you do?? >> << You have Disadvantage in Attack Checks, Dodge Checks, and Persuasion Checks. >>
"…Nello…If any one of these f**kers move so much as a tail, you shoot him.”
“… Um… Big Sis, I can’t shoot a dog. And look! They’re so talented, they can stand up like a person!”
“THERE NOT DOGS! YOU’RE FROM THAT ALTERNATE WORLD CALLED EARTH, SURELY YOU MUST HAVE HEARD OF SOMETHING LIKE A WEREWOLF!”
“…What’s a Werewolf?”
Nello the T-34 Tank turned his turrent head left and right. Even when he was asked to arm a high-velocity artillery shell into his 76 mm cannon, he did not fire. Regardless if they were surrounded by enemies in a 3 meter radius or even 10 meter radius, he didn’t have the heart to shoot.
Instead, he felt conflicted. Because he somehow admired the humanoid creatures covered in silver and grey fur, bulking with thick muscles.
If Magic Mike were a casting for fantasy creature based performance – these guys would get the roles, hands down… sorry ladies, was that too much?
These Werewolves were interesting… that is why Nello was confused as to why the Half-Elf Girl Pastrache had armed her Mosin-Nagant Rifle and was rapidly pointing at each of them in a random circle. Eyes wide like deers in a head light… or, sheep to a butcher house… which ever sells the point across.
“Big Sis, why are you sweating? They’re not going to bite. Look, the one that looks like a girl is waving at me.”
“No! D-don’t be tricked by their innocent nature! Th-they may look like big fluffy dogs that would roll over on their backs to let you scratch their bellies – but once you lower your guard, they will grab you, rip your clothes off and mess with your body in so many unworldly positions that no girl could ever recover!!”
“……………….What?”
“SHOOT THE FLUFFY F**KERS!”
Pastrache said those words with the ferocity of a lab rat. This narrator would often compare such pathetic attempts of intimidation with an angry hamster, but the Half-Elf took the whole ‘scared sh*tless* up to eleven+1.
With a finger shivering on the trigger harder than a caterpillar climbing up a pipe, eyes as beady as an octopus ready to vomit black ink to escape, and knees chattering harder than a Vickers Machine gun, she was screwed.
“OH GOD! TH-THAT GIRL WOLF JUST LOOKED MY CROTCH WHILE LICKING HER LIPS! SH-SHE’S GOING TO EAT ME IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE!!”
“…Dogs don’t eat people. They eat dog food. It’s safe that way.”
“NELLO! HOW MESSED UP IS YOUR WORLD TO NOT UNDERSTAND THE MEANING OF DOG EAT DOG WORLD!?”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“…Ah. I’ve heard of that phrase… But what does it mean, Big Sis??”
“SHOOT THEM! TURN THEM INTO BEE HIVES! A-AND ESPECIALLY PUMP HOLES INTO THAT LECHEROUS WOLF WOMAN WHO WON'T STOP SOLICITING ME!!”
“…….But that would be very mean.”
“NELLOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
The T-34 flinched his cannon when the Half-Elf squealed like a Jellyfish… how is that possible or how does it even sound like was simple.
Touch the jellyfish's tentalces with barehands, and you will automatically scream for it. Viola, math helps.
The Soviet Tank would rotate its turret head. Even when they were in a dense forest with hundreds of trees painted with moss and vines in every direction, he still could see clearly through small slithers of light peeking through the cracks of the overhead coverage.
He counted about 20 Werewolves, maybe even another 10 more if the shadows in the background weren’t tree stumps or rocks placed in strategic locations. The DT Machine gun in his turret head wiggled to look left and right, ‘staring’ at each of these Werewolves like an eye would.
"...Um... Hello, little girl...Oh? You want to touch my nose...Um...J-just d-don't pull on it, okay?"
"NELLO! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT TALKING TO STRANGERS! ESPECIALLY IF THEY'RE OF LYCAN BLOOD! THAT PUPPY GIRL MAY BE SMILING LIKE A CHILD, BUT SHE WILL TEAR OPEN YOUR GUTS AND SPILL YOUR BLACK BLOOD ALL OVER THE GROUND!!"
"... But I'm made of iron... won't that hurt her hands?"
"NELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! (TxT)..."
The anti-infantry weapon onboard the T-34 Tank had a maximum of 60 rounds per clip (per recharge for Nello’s new body). A maximum effective range of 800 meters and capable of shooting 550 rpm with a muzzle velocity of 840 meter / second, there was no way even hardy (read: ripped) Werewolves could survive this one sided massacre.
Yet the Tank named Nello did not open fire as ordered by his friend, the frantic Half-Elf. Instead, he used a more direct approach. He rolled over to them... his pace not even close to ramming speed.
“Oh! Is that for me!? I-it’s so lovely! Uwaaah! And it smells nice too!”
“D*MN IT, NELLO! THEY’RE THE ENEMY! NOT NATIVES WELCOMING A TOURIST ON A PARADISE ISLAND! GET THAT FLOWER FLAUREL AWAY FROM YOUR NOSE! NOW!”
No, Nello wasn’t cruel and bulldozed everyone over under his tracks. Nyet, nyet, nyet.
Instead, he just rolled his wheels up close to one excited looking Werewolf girl who had been waving and staring at him in awe the entire time. When he came up close, she offered up this lovely ring of colorful orchid, with a snow white body that cascaed into a myriad of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and pink.
Almost like a Rainbow-colored Aloha Flower.
"Th-thank you so much, little girl! I-it's so prett--"
<< You used SLAP on the Ring of Flowers. You knocked it Prone, you have Advantage over its body. >> << WARNING: Your Alignment went from Chaotic Messed-Up to Chaotic 'D***mn Girl' >> << Werewolf Girl Level 5 is stricken with God-Fearing Horror. Please seriously seek counselling. >>
Just as this ‘lei’ of flowers made by the Werewolf Girl hung up around Nello’s cannon – Pastrache darted to intercept the exchange and slapped it off. It was as if she was trying to knock an arrow out of the air from hurting her precious friend.
“YOU! WOLF GIRL! DON’T YOU EVER, EVER, EVEEEEEER SEDUCE MY NELLO! GET OUT!”
“…Um…She wasn’t seducing me, Big Sis…What’s seducing?”
The Half-Elf stood her ground against the enemy, forcing one opponent to flee crying. She wasn’t proud, rather she felt like she should shoot something to make sure everyone understood not to mess with her.
If legends were true, Werewolves were territorial and they would automatically consider any intruders as enemies. If the legends were even more true, men were gut and hung from the trees by their entrails. Women were………………. well, were solutions to solve their declining birth rates.
That was the kind of ending Pastrache wanted to avoid.
“………..Big Sis they look like nice people, could I play with them?”
“NO!”
<< You used HARPY SCREECH. The Defence of all Units around you sharply fell >> << You are still surrounded by 20+ Enemies. What do you do?? >>