It was said, “For intelligent cleaveth unto intelligent; wisdom recieveth wisdom; truth embraceth truth; virtue loveth virtue; light cleaveth unto light; mercy hath compassion on mercy and claimeth her own; justice continueth its course and claimeth its own.”
Whether one enjoys school and follow the trends, I blame you not. But to the few that who don’t, for whatever reason one may hone against the trials of youth. May thou find peace in thine doings. The good things indeed that the less fortunate would perceive to make merry. Surely your kind will cling upon another of your ilk, to the place one is willing to receive, because they were not willing to enjoy that which they might have received.
Graduation. A representation of an old beggar at the door to say: “Welcome to reality. Someone else’s reality.” How far would one learn to better their soul?
The dispute had ended. They had pass judgment, ratify with the shown of hands and evidence of his innocent. The night magistrate held sway the argument and settle down the event. Though, it had seem like an odd accident to be ploy by Bryce’s spies. The Red-Umbrellas wasn’t fully convince and did they convey no signs of remorse. It so happen that their arrival at the scene was too late. For they were on another trail of strange stolen goods.
Under some circumstances, the glorified knights brought Seneth to their guild hall where it was open for the public. And from where the stained glass sleeps, laid the crescent table and sat at the back was Florge, moon lighted with natural colors, profile of a maiden and her two brothers holding a fire in the form of misshaped flowers. In the flame, the symbol of delta and the number fourteen in their language.
The Brotherhood of Knights has two guildmasters. They are brothers. The older is named Teb. The younger is named Florge. Stood he, Florge, to greet the newest celebrity but, Seneth was never one to begin with. Recruiters had tried to make him feel special more than that of a long waited guest. Strange as it were, the young brother made a deal with the man to join with their entourage. Happily he attend with gestures of salutes. They needed man as talent as he was facing against odd threats.
Hyruno oppose however. It was right for her to disagree with the arrangement being made, and Seneth was in check with the gallant woman. She did not expect the hobo would agree with her. The lord was suspicious of their hidden motives. To gain the status of power guilds? Their wealth, their halls, their riches, their members were not bound to two digits. No, it was over three hundred members. And did he played along being not sure of why they would want him. It was courteous for the guildmaster of knights to let him sojourn for a couple of eves.
It was said that a servant cannot have two masters. Either he will hate one and love the other. That was the mind of Nuj. Knowingly that the guild this Joshual guy is employed with could intervene. The bracelet they wore determine not only their guild emblems yet it was also their hierarchy and pledges gain within. This pledge will I leave alone though may you possibly guess.
Nuj’s club, “The Treasure Hunting Guild”, was more important than one’s invite. Yet, was willing to take some good intention request from the mighty guilds themselves. If they would let it be.
Oh, Zelos interrupt the meeting unannounced. And was the hobo right. The guildmaster of the Scarlett Alliance kicked and busted through the side door, “Objection!!!” he yelled. It startled the members in the hall more than his oriental Irish kelt.
“Guildmaster, you’re embarrassing us.” said one of his attendee.
“Quite, Yanaezawa! Florge it has been a while. My people claimed him first! Your guild is already too big! The court will reign upon you with a mother load of taxes!”
“Huhh! Who says?! Did I hear a flamingo in a pink skirt! Oh, was it you?!”
“Why I otta, it’s red, It is red! You know it’s red!” He had the accent of an old eastern Assyrian speaking broken “Engrish.” The two guildmasters argued like a married old couple.
Three hours had passed and Hyruno show Nuj to his room within the knight guild. The moon is bright. The owls hoot.
“I am sorry for you to see that. My most apology. Master Zelos and Master Florge are old friend and idiotic rivals going on about creating the best guilds in the states.”
“No worries. I seen my bit fair. Two tigers cannot live on the same mountain. Life is full of surprises. Including taxes . . . I just want to find my own peace.” said Seneth.
“A wiseman such as yourself would make home with the scholars than with a den of knights.” Hyruno was sure she heard him spoke something about taxes as well but was more worry about the embarrassing itch of hers.
“Nothing, nothing. Pay no attention to it. Just an old human thinking.” The tour took them through a couple of study rooms and halls and there was a mortician that had came by.
“Hardly both guilds stays quite to mourn for their loss. The nature of business, I guess. But don’t let it fool you, there is empathy.” Hyruno’s talk bypassed their inner ward and all that passed away laid there. The little magic knight girl was there, accepted the perfume.
Seneth stood for the seconds then left with the valiant knightress who she had not slow down. He speak not. Them both arrive at the inner housing community.
“Here we are, this room will keep you warm for tonight. It is accommodated with a bath and the laundry pantry is across from your stay. The bathroom is, unfortunately, down stair.” Hyruno opens the door.
“Phew, thank goodness! I won’t freeze for a couple of nights staying with this guild.” He said in his head and then, “No need. Thank you for the hospitality. . . most considerate.”
An old wound of hers was never fully healed. It itched her. The hobo gave her a simple remedy in this dwfn, knew what she needed from her complaints.
“A boiled patch of eldergrass with mashed snowymints will do the trick. Good night Miss Hyruno.”
The door closed. Hyruno left wandering if his class-type was that of an apothecary. But it was uncertain. Other times, Seneth was a Ranger, a Ghostsmiter, a Faery Lancer, a Nautilus Gearsmith, a Harvester Priest, an Astramancer and even a Piko Scribe. Yet, she ponder from his moves, techniques and skills unleashed during the horrific event.
“Nah, the man must be of the Treasure Hunter class-type. I am sure of it.”
It sounded like a game for your entertainment. To know one’s class gives an edge in a fight, physically and mentally. Any form that a person learns and take will always follow a rhythm just like all jobs. Know thy rhythm, know thy work, know thy enemy. Why not know what these classes are, friend? Here:
APOTHECARY : Master crafters and book documenters of original medicines and rare blends. They are keen with a wide range of knowledge about plants. Foraging is less stressful for their kinds, for they gradually gain more experience from the most unexpected ventures. Apothecary are skilled in selecting more than just weeds to a common player, identified and pick samples of all matters of plant they could come into contact with and even make the most deadliest poisons.
RANGER : Ranger are wind riders; master of foretelling of winds and guidance. Trappers of games and enemies alike. They plan their moves three steps ahead. Hunting and tracking are their strong points on the great frontier. Bearer of swords, bows, rifles, and knowledge of natural remedies. Class comes in average stats with an abundance of skills when you needed most. The Ranger class are the underdogs. The lesser, the fewer, the impacts they leave are more deadlier.
GHOSTSMITER : The power of anticipation is their game. Shadow-boxers trained in the art of survival with their bare fists and fangs. Their moves are cunning and unpredictable, ever tricking the flight of fighters and cocky players, deceiver in the motion of actions. Moderate level of arts hard to mastered. This class is hard to be hit directly even against skilled players. Comes with average build but is granted to utilizes any weapons found or stolen at ease.
FAERY LANCER : A child-like class. Instead of looking for quests, quests tends to find them, seek them out of heart and earn a bit more including tangible items of interest. This class-type is not restricted to the kinds of weapons all character could hold except for cursed weapons. One is accustomed to a faery as their overseer, a hint giver, a supporter in battles and in riddles. They are masters of unleashing the secret abilities of fairy bugs.
NAUTILUS GEARSMITH : In the olden days, a Nautilus Gearsmith was feared for their unique ways to greet their enemies’ morale. And to this very day, it still does. Holder of blowback weapons and one shotters, Gear Chains. These fearless warriors harness the negative effects of weapons into their advantage whether for a blast jump, a tactical dodge or even a maneuver into a strategic position. Deadly plays against quick players. Mighty and potent game changing skills to slay even the most giant monsters of old.
HARVESTER PRIEST : A priest of the farmland who uses magics to nurture seeds for the coming seasons. Weaver of earthy magics and geo abilities, and easily get along with animals, has the good abilities to make friended animals into familiars. Gifted with a sacred tongue to converse with lore bears, wise owls and ancient nozmag beasts in all the four corners of the universe. A harvester priest preferred weapons are blunted.
ASTRAMANCER : In the beginning; astrology, science and mathematics were one. An astramancer hones the true power of the magicians, readers of the stars, not as the forefathers nor present. To think is to faltered; to believe is to do. They are mind warpers and after-image setters. Good and evil are in the hands of those who welst it. Silent is their prophet. A class that can predict the coming future from the lining of the heavens and could easily change the course of ones’ fate. In their eyes, their opponents’ skills are slowed.
PIKO SCRIBE : A detective class-type that gather intelligent to solve difficult riddling quests and crimes. They are also map drawers, calligraphers and information sellers. A player of this class will find the value of paper to be inflated in price including toilet papers and fresh clean underwear. Soiled underpants drops this class “Charisma” stat heavily into the red. The Piko Scribe is equipped with a handgun and a writing utensil. They have easy access to crime scenes if presented with a detective guild badge approved by the Court of Guilds. They are only allow breeds of chicken as a pet.
Lets leave the Treasure Hunter class-type alone for now.
A day and a half went by. Our hero’s body had took a toll. Oh the strain and muscle pain a fat man would endure for his first time labor. Or any man, if so let it lust, who’ve work after the long days of idleness. A good morning stretch will do finely.
The sun rises before the dew of the second day, Nuj was cleaning his dirty jacket from across the room. A laundry area for men only. I found that quite funny and reasonable. Was he greeted by a housekeeper, inform him of breakfast.
“Breakfast? Boy, your guild sure has everything.”
“Yes, your lordship. We are here to serve the guild. The pay is good and upper management deals with no gryphorse manure. Master Teb set an example.”
The early, daily fantasy routine of getting up was never a hassle to Seneth and went to join the breakfast hall. My goodness, it was high school all over again and their funny dramas. He line up with a tray and the smell of foods waft through the dining room. Merry and comfort foods were served. It was amusing to hear what young folks would talk about these days. Fat cheerleaders practicing near the halls giving out the letters K-N-I. What does it spell out?! Knights, of course. And then he gotten those looks from recruits. Yep, the smell of teenagers.
“What is an old man doing here?” They thought. Some where old themselves.
“Great. I hate high school. At least the food was actually free. Now, where to sit.”
Everyone was in groups of at least five members. It was tough to be the new face in town.
“May I sit with you fellow-S?” Seneth assumed that the newly ways to express yourself was to over exaggerate hand gestures to fit in. The smoker group ignored him and look around he did again. That group was nasty! Talk behind our hobo’s back to get a good day. No seats were available. The dine hall was pretty packed. Then there, he saw! A spare hand-carved slab-like table made from boulders. A lonely koboldian sitting near the window reading a torn book with his untouched tray and drink. A really young child at most.
“Nah, I shouldn’t do that again.” he thought, readying hiself to the fractured wooden stools.
“May I sit with you?” Seneth said courteously.
“Mm” The beast-being’s voice was soft. Though the young one did said yes but didn’t once drop the book down.
“Hey, Pharoh, the new guy is sitting with smelly Korimi.” said the freckle baddy, sitting across the room near the opened exit way.
“You don’t say. Well-z gang, lets go double our pay.” The gang of young knights shown their colors and went to make trouble. They arrived at the lone table, all five of them. Here comes the nasty look of teenage grin, behavioral issue and their superior influence usually developed by certain parents. It is not most cased.
“I say that you could not sit here, boy. This table is for Korimi only. He is special. We’re his guards and I ask for you to MOVE. Or, to sit here, you must pay a protection fee. What will it be?” The other gangs were laughing except the sixth. Seneth ignores them while pretending to eat. He looked at Korimi. This poor kobold did not even let the book down, slowly pressing against the wall and shrug the tome closer to his face.
“A poor man like me has no coin to satisfy your thirst. If you want someone to move, why not say please?” Nuj said.
“Please . . . MOVE.” The power rangers returned the favor.
“To that I tell thee and would I say to thee. No thank you. There is no other available space in this place. Unless you want to give up your seat that is. You wouldn’t take an old man’s walking stick now would you?”
The leader of the pack was mad and threw the hobo’s water at his face and spit into his drink. The startle room became quiet. Many young rookie knights were looking at them.
“Damn you, boy. Move. Do you know who we are?”
“Should I care? The vile shall be no more called liberal, nor the churl said to be noble.” He thought than spoke with a satisfying test afterward. And went on he to say to the thugy boy louder in his voice. Not enough to yelled or a call to action. Simply to get his attention. This I said without a care:
“Please, I am a teacher, in fact. Why throw a fist and not a manly hug? A quick and fat lesson thereof. There are four kinds of temper in the world: he whom it is easy to provoke and easy to pacify, his loss disappears in his gain; he whom it is hard to provoke and hard to pacify, his gain disappears in his loss; he who is hard to provoke and easy to pacify is a saint; he who is easy to provoke and hard to pacify is a wicked man-”” The kid punched him. His buddies hold him back then I saith with a grin cleaning my forehead, “Which is thou?”
“Pharoh, enough! Just challenge him or how he will label us will only satisfy his thirst. We don’t won’t the knight captains to unrank us. Come on, think about it.” said the bandanna baddy. Pharoh grip and the cup crush slowly.
“Fine, I challenge you, kid, to a duel. Meet us in the training field. Korimi, don’t think you got it easy today.” The gang left and made a huge mess to show their superiority. The other rookies and trainees were gossiping except those that were in the volunteer search and rescue parties. They kept their silent to some extent looking around.
“K-kid? Aren’t they the one with the moustache and beards? Hormones in food? I hope not. These wisdom sayings only work in movies and books. But I had made the Tibetan good. The heart of Autumn, huh, Crow? A coward’s life is not fun. Fear is a bondage. Knowing that, I am still afraid of it at times. Will thou not come with me? I have no idea where I’m going. It will be good if you show me around.” Nuj contemplated to yawn. Korimi hesitate and spoke but it was very, very low and rudely I inject myself into his soft sentences.
“Hmmn, maybe not. Don’t like being the center of attention after all. Or, should I just promote my business?” Seneth picked his ears and Korimi raise his voice a bit more, “You m-muft accept their challenge. . . or . . . they will continue . . .” with the shrinking in his voice. There was a good pause.
“For your sake then. Would thou not meet me halfway?” I-I can’t believe I said that! Oh boy.
The scenery have change to the estate dorm room of knight captains, ladies hall. And in one of this room we focus on the lovely sisterly friends.
“You wet yourself, Hyruno? That’s hilarious coming from you. And to cover for it, thou had drench in the coldness of lake. Oh my. How will thou ever find a lover now, silly captain?” An enjoyment she made out of her shame. Faulty but womanly.
“Be quiet . . . It is already embarrassing that my unit may knew what I did. Arrggh, what am I going to do now. I will stain the honor of knights that Master Teb created.” She regretted showing off. Even the word “stain” she “spill out” had stabbed her in the “watery” heart.
“Hyruno, my dear. You and your puns aren’t up for the job. Covering your head in pillows and sobbing will not erase the past.”
“I might change school if it worsen.”
“Here, Saint Mykiel’s Academy of Knights and Scholars. I heard it is a good school in Mathis Telus.” Melony searched her alchemy bag, laid the catalog in front of the knightress.
“That’s no bad at all. The closest school would be in Zanestira. Oh wow.” said Hyruno skimming the catalog.
Melony sits besides her as miss captain highly grated a creak of the voice from the sting of medicine. Her friend, Melony, is a herbal alchemist but dressed more like a married wife with a bit of status. She took the patch off Hyruno’s shoulder blade. It was like a miracle! No remedy that the knight had could heal her wound. Mixtures of rare and helpful plants were no good. Two of the most common item weeds were more potent than potions and magics. Melony was astonished of a new finding, a new khem for her collection.
“Dearest me. Where did you learn this remedy? Your wound have fully closed! The bleeding have stopped.”
“Melony, you mean it?”
“What was the name of this patched medicine?”
“. . . He didn’t say.”
“He? Oh yaaa, finally getting in touch with your womanly side? The blind dates are sure going well.”
“I-it is not like t-that, Melony! Seneth was kind to share knowledge-.”
“Seneth?! . . . Kind?! He he, Oh my--.”
“You’re missing the point, Melony!” said the stuttering Hyruno. A female guard came to inform the lovi-dovi friends.
“Knight Captain! The junior and varsity knights had challenge a guest of Master Florge!”
“Guest? . . . Seneth.” She got dress in her frilly pajama, tumbling down the circle bed. The knight captain and Melony went out to the balcony and look down onto the training field.
“What is the reason to challenge him?!” Hyruno commanded.
“T-there was a dispute in the dining hall, madam!”
“Inform Florge right this moment!”
“Yes ma’am!!”
“I seee, so that’s SENETH.” said Melony. The little koboldian show Seneth the way to the field and he tripped from a rake while having an interest in fantasy animal transportation. Their were many kinds as well as the cliché beasts.
“Will you stop that, Melony! It’s a misunderstanding!” She blush.
Some of the recruits were spreading rumors. Mainly by those who were in the event about the hobo’s strengths and possible weaknesses. Information had reached the famous’t guilds of Autumn. The Scarlett Alliance was among them. The news was reported to the guildmaster and Zelos led out a joke. If this work ever become popular in other regions, it would be the opposite. That is, “Oh My God!” Using it very vainly.
“Naa-Ni!!” yelled Zelos, “Now is my chance!” And forth, the guildmaster ran. He went to observe the match being held prolonging his very duties.
Back at the Brotherhood of Knights’ estate, the young guard delivered Hyruno’s message.
“As you were. Tell Hyruno not to worry. Let the duel commence.” said Florge. The messenger left.
“Brother, it will be good for you to collect this man’s odd abilities. He may in fact, help us with one of our long on-hold request.”
“And who would this man be Florge that peak your curiosity?” Master Teb was busy dealing with a merchant and his rare furs for the coming festivals. It was the third merchant. A total of three.
“I can’t say. This vagrant appeared out of nowhere. His aura was suppressed. Zargov assumed he was a monster at first but help took down the snake. The very one quest that was never clear since two years ago.”
“Be wary of your words. It will kill the good priest.” Knightmaster paid the peddlers a handful of coins for their goods he selected.
“I did not meant it literally, Teb.”
“Observe him for me then since you have so much cycles at hand. I have no time to jolly around. The Council of Five expect me to be one of their honor guest to greet the leader of Talania tomorrow. He and others will be visiting this country to build future interest within the states.” Master Teb was a no-joking attitude man.
“Your no fun.”
“You’ll understand when you’re older, Florge. In the meantime, the cooking club is busy hosting the other major guilds. Mayor Nobi requested our chefs for Baron Sharlamange’s night barbecue. Assemble the staff when you have the time from your fun before the first moon.”
“Hnnn, understood.” Florge was disappointed. Time had passed and in front of the joined scholar hall with the knights’ play field, Zelos joined him on the balcony with a large bowl of rice chips and dragon pepper sauce, fighting their ways to get first seat. An old miss kept them company to keep the peace.
It was midday. Clear skies and an aurora baffle the northern mountains. Light winds gushes through the hall and chambers. It was the luke warm wind of the ending of summer. Seneth rises to face a snobbish boy. And at the end, three of five power rangers stood with their steroid body builds. All were children except the sixth. He was quiet as a mouse and in his mid thirties. A bodyguard perhaps?
It was a rage! Recruits, young and old, came to speculate; to see the five stooges to be completely dismantle. News had reached many of the knight captains and upper ranks. Knight General Chriss, Knight General Hagnard and High Brigadier General Marlow was among them encase things went wrong.
“One, I cannot back away now. What is more effective?”
“We will defeat you through the power of friendship. Choose your darned weapon!” Pharoh yelled, degraded the word, “friendship” like lazy men who degrades the phrase, “Work Smart.”
“You meant cheating.” said Seneth scratching above his nose, flick the thumb at three O’clock, “This weapon will do nicely. It’s pretty light.” The five rangers laugh but Seneth did not know what was so funny. The recruits were confuse. Some assume the hobo was going to humiliate the steroid morphers with an unpopular kind of weapon.
“Ohh, a broken lunaward. This otta be a novus duel.” said Marlow holding unto his butt chin.
“Not good.” Hyruno lean over the balcony.
“Oh my, what is not good about your sweetheart?” Melony questioned.
“Melony, please stop joking! H-his will to kill is---“
“Is what?”
“That blunt sword had deceived me. I was there, in the moment of losing my head in despair.” The fear strike her, “His will to kill is . . . otherworldly.” Hyruno could feel the cold shoulders, holding herself just to keep warm. The goosebumps started to surface. Melony was worried and stopped the lovely jokes, comforts her like a good mother. For the cold feeling she felt was that of the demon Champity Champ, Charles.
Then begin the dark tones of loneliness; the dark lifting fantasy suspense. And so it bears those gritting silent moments.
“Are you trying make me laugh to death?! If it is, you’re doing a good job. Here are the rules, little boy, so listen up! I will not repeat myself. Each contestant will be allowed a weapon, an item and a potion. Given your state, we’ll happily give you medicines. Try not to use them all up in the first half of the fight.” He had laid more rules down that will only benefit them that Seneth knows not.
Seneth threw back the gourd vials, “. . . An item doest just and the stench of great weapons is ever great.” And he put on the Mask of Unfortunate Blessings. It was an odd looking mask to the roman fanatics.
“Damn bastard showoff! You will regret insulting us varsity knights. With a capital V. Don’t think you can hide that shameful face when you loose, bast-of-a-turd! No magic mask will save you runt sniffer when I wield the ring of dispelling! We ain’t afraid of you.” Truly spoken like a child whom enjoys meddling in peoples’ affairs. The false sense of security that the ego commanded one to not be afraid. Oh boy, developed by their useless parents who mrr of others as long as no one knows about the skeletons in their own closet. In most case.
Kiddo don’t know what it means to be a knight. An adage the hobo spoke, “The smallest dogs always bark the loudest. If one is very wise, shall he not shut?” Again, silence is golden. Indeed it is until evil reign. Is as to say, if one spout that silence is not golden, is not the land tainted as well as to how beautiful the land can be? Because of things that are in ruled.
“Duck you, you little prick!” The mind set of millennial teenagers or adults in their late 30’s? The foul languages? The smarter people make their own words to insult, to defamed a catered minority. Like me writing this light novel.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Watch the rock in front. The kettle pot is talking back to me . . . Horray.” said the hobo.
When one is to have advantages over the one they hate, to curse, to curse, to curse, out their filthy mouths, and followed their egos who are strike with brilliance, to have smartness, will it accompany with their foul mouth to prove their intelligence. But my brothers and sisters of the faith, those weak of hearts, those shy in hearts, they are a rare delicacy. Once the facade of brilliance is lifted, so will they continue their “smartness.” Less self-awared, to curse, to curse, to curse upon the toadstool of conviction.
I hope I am wrong and this is the mind set of young adults, ages between 19 to 27 year old, who couldn’t have their cakes nor the world to themselves. Must the good man throw raspberries? And did our main commence a quiet one. An entertaining joshing. The battle had already begun and he ignored the rest of their incoming trash talk. Multiply the chances to rage our fellow hobo.
A mix of onlookers siding with both parties came to watch.
No warning. Pharoh attacked showing his awesome flashy sword skills. Now the kid wanted to be an anime protagonist who gets all the ladies. Also active in sports. Hand balls perhaps. Judging from the iconic sports medal on their appeals.
In return of that cringed awesomeness, Nuj was cut at the elbow and slipped on a banana peel. A cunning stylized power he did away from the generics. In many eyes, it was hardly a dance move. Pharoh was furious to be mocked and hasn’t end his attacks. Like all anime protagonist, hyper movements, sharp noises and appearing from behind readying to swing the mighty guillotine.
“This is worse than an anime nerd!” said Nuj, did his best to out maneuver him that led to some potentially threatening wrestling moves. Only grab once he did, “Conrad, lets break a leg. Just a trial, Ka. Oh please, do let me see the highest truth.”
Seneth believes this fight should’ve been for Korimi. Instead, our hobo auctor jumped to conclusion and took up arm to defend from the degenerates of societies. Korimi was afraid, not doing his best; not wanting to be involve with their maker. The words the hobo spoke in the dining hall walked in his beastly brain. It gave him not courage. Not resentment to the choices in life. No, not even striding to become a man. In this case, a fledge beastian. For these stories, don’t let the word fool you, children. Man means for all beings. Oh, Korimi feared the harley stooges. The hyenas laughed and the duel continues for a good amount of sequence. Somehow Nuj’s right knee was not hurting?
“The fell judges the living? Darest thou played a lord? For spake I in threes.” The mask’s eyes widen; the world felt cloaked under earth; differently; worldly vibe; fantasy darkened; meshed and bounced. It wasn’t waifu entertainment time, then I said, mayhaps, misuse, “Arbiter elegantiae de gustibus non est disputandum corpus vile thou’t shall be.” pointed the index finger at the brain, tap it thrice.
Out of the ordinary happen! The mask randomly reveals their status without consuming backgrounds. Most simplistic it is. This time, there was no level caps nor limited numbers of their forte. Along it follows with some status, descriptions, hidden traits, crests and yes, symbologies. To find their weaknesses using some efforts.
The power of detective work is in my hands. You would assume this veil would open up with a digital voice: Head Action Now!!! And everything would pause as if a player was checking the option menu. Nope, it was live action, all at once. A cheat that cheats against cheaters. Oh my. It had exploded in difficulty. Fighting against children is bad for a resume.
A secretary had arrived from the distance, passed the rolling hills and a village of free roaming pheasants. An introduction was given with the senators and court officials. Along the secretary was the noble factions of the citizens of Bezoari. The King of Beast and Mage Lorthor here to discuss of future relations, re-dealing of Bryce’s intervention and the peace treaty with the Queendom of the west. The battle from across the rolling plains caught the hands-of-the-state’s attention, Talania. They were not in the hurry and observed the sparring. One of the magistrate under the work of the baron, excuses hiself from the political crowd.
I kid you not from third to first.
There, we commence our duel for which I have my thoughts and dreams of scenes. Surely you can dream of exciting battle scenes as well. Guess not me thoughts. With such a portion of a music design for sparring was in the background suspended, then this happen.
Though the music had died out just to draw the audience in, I had a feeling it wasn’t going well and all the unwanted stares have me did the most unexpected. I stole a large dark towel from a naked man nearby, spin in the moment to rest the blade then pretended to be, yes, . . . a vampire. Why a blood hoarder in broad daylight you asked? Who knows. With the acting skills of Bela Lugosi under my belt, what could possibly go wrong.
Withering assaults from a poor man does not state that he is a “Crouching Moron, Hidden Badass.” Shall I present, to beat up a highly toxic jerk in high school is the fan’s motto. Though little do boys and girls dream of this, so let it be written for your sake.
I kicked the poor bastard who tried to score a dirty knockout and went on acting like a frenzy kung-fu vampire who is hungry for blood pudding! The sounds of echoing vocals enhanced. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, arm windmills to draping the cape over the face. It was hard work. Kung-fu means hard work in doing things that progresses in skills.
My veil was not scary and hid me face to put on two rip pieces of folded paper into the mouth. Lodge the fangs into the mask then pop I to a pose befitting of a renegade corpse. My new version of a rugged individualist. The power rangers saw the teethes as I yank the cape from my vision. It was a ludicrous act I must admit.
“Take Off” by Rarefolk, please.
Red ranger hasn’t lost his confidence. With all these fighting gestures and arm movements and body movements and teleportation, yea, I was a convincing Mister Vampire, to fight a bunch of their bull dung varsity teamwork. It wasn’t later till I went after green ranger and his teenage beer belly.
Green ranger had the nerve of a rodent. Splinted I, green’s legs from my skills, drop him down from a range of hand combats with the elbow; and from these sets of strains, outed in maneuvering him, slamming my palm unto his head from behind, holding the scalp with this almighty grip and dust shewed. I drag him backward as he screaming to be save from this bloody carnage!
O relentless was I torturing the poor high school student from this old man’s theatrical kabuki. The mouth open wide, the zealous tongue did its magic and the head tut with the open left hand.
In the re-wording words of a legendary hobo, “I’m a blackanese that eerily tut the form of eastern horrors.” All the evilness of vampires from the east that meets the west. The strenuous sound effects did its labour.
Lastly, from this epic run of scene 1988, stretch away the knight’s hood and neck vest, spread it away from the delicious neck, howl at the sunny sky with the quivering head alongside those bloody gargles, then came I for this strange meat!
Pharoh and the nut banging yellow ranger attack, rescue the scared to death puppy. Yellow went straight for me mask. So did the ax flaunt against me, hurdling to drop my upper body down with the right foot of justice to graze the back of his arm. The leg hooked and hold.
The boy went on the offense and tore my tomato juice hidden in the jacket. Had it leak down to the neck and unto the mouth and spit I a spiteful amount. A make believe of the super-effective strike cheating yellow ranger. But in due, the tomato can was wasted. Such an effort made for the special effects did not go according to plan. I broke contact.
I come quickly into the breakdancer move known as “The Bridge.” How low the matrix did I went unto the other side. With the legs wind-up from what onlookers may called it, a helicopter flare.
The dirty right foot of justice burst out from under the bridge and hook behind the enemy’s bent knee. Oh despite how hard I had hold the foot in place to break my fall, yellow ranger did all he could to loose the webbing and stickiness of my satirical arts.
Was I doing my best to lever myself from the drop. The right arm, push, and push, and push of this humor I had made to avoid his butchering fatalities. When the moment was right, it was time to revoke the bridge matrix. Return I to see the troll under the bridge accumulating the speed of gravity. Because of this, had I regain footings and enter into the lowly pose of a fugitive drunken gorilla with the bottles ready in the hands.
This canning motion stun the yellow ranger of his fluid momentum. It was all close and personal as my shoulder and head slightly touching the hairy chest of this boy then nugget the ranger with a light unorthodox gorilla tackle. He flinched. It was payback.
If one would forgive, forgive seventy-fold times seven. Yes I could. But I would like a bit of fun for the moment and came out four shots of suckerpunches from hiding. The yellow boy did much to defend his self from this awkward battle pose, the drunken gorilla fist have I improvised and made up.
And so, was it distributed. Two strangely martial attacks, strangely it is to the world but not so to fellow disciples of the arts, to the chin grab and then a great finally of a slap? Why slap his left cheek, Nuj, if I do say so myself? The combo hasn’t stop nor deserve an applaud. The yellow ranger raise the ax from above. His clever hack wasn’t dangerous but was an effort to stop me from attacking because a sharp object was pin in the place of the flesh. Foolery is in the both of us and did I proceed.
A ninety degree spin to his right side. I was in a very bad placement with the ax grating the back of this finest hobo attire. To reused a new-age liberal term, “AWESOME” it is, came out me spinning fist of doom! His “SAFE-PLACE” was destroyed. My acumen came along undisturbed. A soft but firm back end of the fist flank both of the cheeks redder than a man who couldn’t even hide his love letters, splatter with some leftover tomato juice for the adobe after effects.
Yes, it made the ranger twirl from his drop. The gravity pulled hard but did he hold his position as he change his pace and regain the ground. The boy did not waste any minutes and came before I. This ax of his swirled, broke into three sections and fastly reassign in shapes. A mischievous device it was and me being unaware had gotten myself cut. Goodness, it had to be my bad leg. Yellow boy was tough. I will need to use the broken sword.
The arms shimmer that old dull light at the end of a choreograph. The weapon ghastly drawn from the back. A breakers’ unorthodox battle ninja, “Half-Steps” taken out of “6-Steps.” Performing it is more like one-and-a-quarter steps with the flash spins of the weapon and had I strike him. The weapon clashes and transition from many personal forms.
Did his moment shine greatly, pushing me to the floor when my back was expose from an attack. Had he caught and throw me like a barbarian. My movement from the early sequential works of mine was unstable. Did I not profit from the action but prolonged it. To hear metals and hard object clanked several times against the deadly ax was a nervous breakdown. Not sure if sunny boy would give up from almost chopping my thigh. To end it, I thought, must I locked the weapon from a trick clash? A designated push against the profile of the ax. Return it ten-fold to yellow ranger and flashy out-of-guess weapon fight sequences. The only simple operation one could think of in the heat.
The battle wasn’t in favor for the leader who’ve join the bootlicker. To apprehend the highly toxic kids is indeed a self lesson one could teach but should I, knowing they in their own awful rights wanted me dead. The use of the sparring field as a cover? Therefore, without any further punches, I pulled away not knowing what yellow boy will do when Pharoh intervene with the startling tool of his. And so I played the battle of wit and technical speed for good paces.
In this moment, did blue ranger try to intervene as well and somehow the three of us literately destroy him in the middle of our fight. Knowing had I the Trick Stance from the active stat signature shown on the upper right screen, I dispatch the trait against blue ranger. From trials and error have I found that the trait was designed to be verily prerogative. My fighting abilities I skewed to the enemies’ interpretation. And sure did this trick the yellow man of my powdery footwork battle against him.
With of the all indictment of dust crazily showered from a turned, martial arm movements to throw off the viewers, followed the animated noise effects and sword clanks to turn-a-rounds, came the engagement of all 1980s African American favorite martial art. The remnant of “The Crane!” Crane!! Me sober bootleg version.
His punishment saw fit and did I knock this fellow sunny boy under the chin. Spit spout in the air about high as my waist, doing his only best to sever the ankle from a bunch of his techniques. Too bad. I had raise his only target into his chin and shewn again the itchy sand, flipped, crumbly and tumbling away. A half one-eighty turn fall. This cheapstake was a tough kid to beat. Pharoh attack in the midst. Big Red’s Lightning Dragon gave him distant but had consumed him with the ailment, Psycho Paralysis for a couple of seconds. I flash spin and sheathed the weapon from a strange pose before rest. That is good for me. I have time to breath.
Out of nowhere again, blue ranger appear, pulled out the cross from behind me and I played along. He show much content with the object right into my face. It shine and I coward away from the cross with hands and all hovering and sealing over the mask, “Earrrghhhhhh,” I cried.
“I can’t believe it’s working?!” Blue said.
I repeated two more times. This sorry excuse of a theater is not progressing. So I decided to attack the boy by the power of a vampire resisting a shining object. The bling will now bling no more and with this zombie power of persuasion, grab and threw the cross out of his hand.
This angry vampire attack!
In the matters of humor punches, in the act of a hobo’s martial mayhem that force blue boy to open his mouth wide, the candy gum of egos hopping out. The neck reveals. I attack with the fangs of ridicule! One would say, big blue would run but no. Threw he a clove of garlic into my mouth. I did not expect that of course and ate them me did.
Raw garlic is good for the blood! The horrendous scene of the mask eating the vegetables was enough to make him plead. I heed him not for his bullion remark. It was back to the frenzy vampire mode. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh. A diagonally downward punch led to the magnificent uppercut to the strange footwork and things cannot be fathom just with written descriptions as red ranger, yellow and pink interfered. Continue with odd accounts did this adolescent man and others fell to my jesting insanity! A shew off dust.
Me beating up blue boy was fair but because a man like me playing the wild card so soon, it given these steroid body builds too much cheap shots. And did another two came, pink again then green. Green ranger was fairly done. Did I similarity to his first nightmare. From like the matrix-string hold to my wild carnage again and pink ranger call upon the holy lightning sword. Lightning spew in a flux pattern.
It had pull this hobo here from his meal. Boy, have I been sounding like Fajita Carlos? Green was about to crash when I lost my grab of his scalp, kick him from the back, upward he twirl and I went after pinky. This ranger was at arms length. The Trick Stance came to good use as Tulip help me reached the blinded sided of his armor. Lock I the leg with mine of this pink ranger and with the powerful ability of glaring from a good short combat. Yes you heard it. The power of mystifying paralysis.
Thus said me, “Let there be carnage!!”
Rip off the upper portion of the raiment and tilted the neck. Me elbow braise and tore portion of the fake moustache. It turns out he was a she as her breast “boing boing” from the loosen bandages? Did I not detect womanly assets until now. But if me did earlier, her sentence would’ve been lighter. Having femoral hair seen majorly on men have greatly persuade this useless protagonist here until it was rub burned.
I’ll bet the Tokyo Tower; within two years given, senorita could lick a whole regiment. That is, given the fact on how the young women fought, acted, her motion and that specific carnal mouth. Though boys, she would be a very poor bedroom master. Or is she an strange women already, the bedroom master of high school?
Ah, a fat lesson students . . .
Beware the strange women and men who dig their own pit and draw you into them with lubricious words and honeys; the tattering heart selleth his folly; an unclean mouth breathes before a young flower, tainted its petals; and sing the strange women; how many asses have thou took to lay in the night?
And so forth, pearly is thine jewel thou hast put in thine cup of sin for their sake.
As Reading Rainbow, a child’s show would said, “You don’t have to take my words for it.” It is from the flesh of man’s wisdom.
Literally, are you easily persuade to destroy your soul when others shame you that you haven’t slept with a “manboy” or a “womangirl” for keeping your virginity? It is thine glory; thine innocence. Peer pressures I seen nowadays in high school and as well as . . . middle school.
The gorgeous and fine, the fresh meats are in colleges or pursuing life’s hurt. Campus campers are the naughty worst. Take a tour through extended rooms. Surely will thou find reasons to bloom.
Getting close to the neck, the paper teethes had fell out. It aesthetic workmanship trickle down her bosom and she notice. I was too well occupied in rehearsed Nosferatu suckling the blood of varsity virgins with that scary mosaic face. The mask randomly moving and talking as I have talked; the adding of len filters and simple effects; the slow stillness of the mask looking at the camera from the forehead foreshadowing; all for the most effective shots.
“W-what happened to your fang?” she said.
I stop from proceeding Bela Lugosi’s fun, “Fang?” Lick I around me lips, moving the mouth around assuming it was stuck above the gum line, then came I with my right hand feeling around.
“Y-you’re not a vampire?!” The pink ranger blushes. Though she was cute with the looks of a Prussian, I straightly punch her as she flip over and hit the ground with my yell of a vampiric martial artist, “A-Witch-Kkweehhh!!” She had fallen flat face. Wanting to be a boy, will be beaten up like a boy.
And before long, blue ranger came to save his she-man lover, I tear open three pockets of ketchup had I stolen from the cafeteria. Smear her I did on her neck in the moment of my maleficent punch against the girl.
“Kkweehhhhh!” I brought out my exceeding horrify face toward this Catholic alike.
Words cannot be describe nor can it be fully depicted in animations. Bones had run chills, the creepy slow-pace turn and Daisy as my controlled blue light shining under the towel cape. It lifted a good atmosphere to scare these striplings.
The second set of paper fangs was water by the blood of ketchup. And to believe ketchup was real blood. My, will thou ever find love? Judging from his excitement, must be unrequited love. The textures were quite different. I was astonished he was this arrogant to claim to be a real man when he coward before the play. What an askew thought for not being faithful to his own art. As it was did to the green ranger, I went swoosh, swoosh, swoosh with the sided acrobatic of arm movements and the power of vampire teleportation to grab his shoulders. Yea, the play-stop-play edits. Me frenzy soul-blooded thirst scared his pants off knowing the cross, his idol, would probably not save the poor boy’s soul.
Let it be known, “Take Off” by Rarefolk, of three minutes and forty seconds was I into the song of this field test. It was to get real in the battle of the flute. Pharoh and Yellow do not mrr. From the camera showing my face from within the veil, alert was I of the shine of their weapons and was my eyes focus on them. We fought in insecure positions where one must bring out the blade. So did I quickdraw the weapon once more where the metal clank and bang in unexpected spots. Readers’ imaginations follow through. Though mine is better. Raspberries.
“Trick Stance?!” There was one move I have done that gotten the brigadier to notice. Not sure why he was amazed when I’ve been using this ability of the heart for quite a while. The name is a cringe worth praising but not as much as the substitute battle pose I acquired from somewhere else. It is called: Beastial Prism Martial Field Rugged Individualist Old Fighter Charred Stance Maximum Ten. Must’ve been a game dev’s awful joke in bad naming. Broken used of English? Let’s just call it: Charred Beastial Prism.
I had to admit. The stance was very cool. But for an adult to grab his inner childhood unto the scene, it is kind of embarrassing. The carry of the lunaward is present in the stance. At time, is it swung in the manner of remade nun-chuck works, no hold under the armpit nor kiddish spin, the ring around the rosey, and at times, the body is thirty degree hunched over. The movement mimic a beast in bound chains. With light footwork and mixtures of due heavy sets. The “umph” in special occasions with the heavy weight of swings. Jumps are indescribable. The rest are no more than fathom descriptions. Call me a Gary Stew now.
Without realizing, had the knee gave about from the set strains. The pain begins to swell and was the socket of bones and of ligaments felt out of place. A felted sensation that would off-guess anyone of the situation. Had the illness that one would defined, a nomenclature, had stop me from my strangely performances.
The cost of a reputation to keep, to up hold, was severe. Help, I fallen and I can’t get up from the right knee in the process of techniques. A good amount of strength in the arms and hands were lost. Similar to a man who was shocked in hunger from nowhere and the fleshly appendages weakens to great length. What will become of I that Pharoh came forth? Here, I’m done with useless commentating.
High Brigadier Marlow laughed but had tried to contained until spooked. Seneth was impaled. His weapon lost hold and flew. The soundtrack ended, five minutes and ten seconds.
“Pharoh, we did it. Finally slain that wicked spirit.” The yellow ranger losing his breath.
“You illiterate donkeys! He’s not a vampire!” Pharoh’s sword went threw the hobo’s face, and Seneth flew back, landed on his back. There was no movement. The hobo is particularly sweep to heaven’s acre.