“Despicable me.”
That was Grinch last words he gave to cause I, a poor man to tremble before his mighty foot slept upon the table. No doubt he wanted me to lick it. The stare prolong within the quietness. I almost can see his eyes behind the goggle glasses. Sharp and stimulated with the inexplicable twitch on the scrag. What’s not to like? The master of the ship did his most inferior sanely. A motivation Grinch produced, nicely was it given to me. A copy and paste of the old realm. The previous words he wanted me to beg for. Bark like a dog. Walk on all fours like a pig. Call me YOUR MASTER like a slave. Then shall ye be saved. How could I? With what the world had done ill to me, why should I? Oh, a hymn of my last breath.
The lives of men comes in a variety. Whether they be sinners or alike, a poor man like I who sitteth beside and converse with, because we are of that world if one knows any better as is of now. ‘Tis not wise to detach yourself, from those whom one deem unworthy of their cliques. Unless beating the clique deemer to a pulp mentally then that could be arrange for the better man. Many aren’t. Though Grinch wasn’t neither of them.
Ahem. A tangent story might not be so bad.
It was the beginning of a late summer’s breeze. Fox is detained. Has the fisherman awoken from his torment. Hang in chains above ground in sweats and defilement. The sludge of waters drip from the ceiling onto his skin. The clothes torn and ripped, a major pulled out of placement. Residue of whip lashes and flesh plucks from a Roman scourge in a rusted, congested, night lit wet room. The scent of blood scatters in the sodden air. The wonder of boots tap outside the door.
Yea, the echo bounced in the cell. Of honor did the tinkle of droplets filled the veil. Noises came positive in competition with man-hold groans. Above him, there is an arrangement of pipes and degraded canopies placed to collect leaks. Was the fisher’s eyes closed as a warm dew came short.
A whisper he listened. Of what this fisherman heard was of his father. “Quit worrying about that stupid fox, Takasu!” Had the dream woke him. It made him analyze where his life is marked. To rent his father’s boat given to him to Peter’s guild to make fast cash from a vagabond’s livelihood.
The memories.
It was on the day of his birthday that his father gave him a boat. Just an ordinary wooden boat that had been add on. Thirteen years of age wanting to be a great fisherman like the group his father is with. Young and adventurous to seek the milks and crannies of all backyards.
Was it till a month past that the boy return from fishing out on the boat. The afternoon was long gone. A fulfilling catch that made Takasu yawn. He discover a dying fox upon the bank in hunger and decide to feed it with the biggest fish he caught.
“Surely they grant wishes.” Takasu was amazed. But Foxes don’t eat fishes! His dad said so.
He never seen one committed to gobble down a freshly live specimen thinking it must be an ancient deity. A child like he, sojourned in the Valley of Himes in the hinterlands so carefree. It took a couple of days before they’ve become good friends but his father did not like foxes.
And so the day arrive that the father spot Takasu feeding the fox again near the bank. “Quit worrying about that stupid fox, Takasu!” The yell spook the boy and the animal ran into the forest. His father was angry. Have he been noticing that a couple of hens and chicks were missing from the hatchery. The boy was scolded. The mother gently laugh etiquettely when having breakfast. A firmly smile that calms down her husband’s demeanor.
The household was consist of his parent, a guard dog named Po-Sama, and an old household cat named Maid-Ki. Takasu’s father was similar to a western man looking for a Japanese wife on the internet. His mother was an actual gaijin hunter. Serious to be wed to a westerner. Of course, there is no such country in this fantasy world; but is it a good example for two different countries in fantasy finding intimate relationship.
One night, a random thought came to his head. He wonder where their old lazy cat went. The cat s’been missing for a year ever since the fox started showing up at the door. His father slam the hammer at the dinner table, which the son brought up the topic, that it was the fox who ate the cat. He gave Takasu another good scolding. A lesson to teach him merely about the cunning memories of foxes. It was likely that Maid-Ki attacked the vagabond fox when the reynard was in her territory. Takasu didn’t believe one bit of it since he learned that foxes do eat fishes and his father was wrong. Even with many other of his examples. A joke that made his father awkward.
“Son, I am going to tell you a secret.” The father said to correct his image. “You should never marry Yuonese woman.”
“You meant like mom?”
“Yes, yes. They might be beautiful and cute but after marriage . . .” On the father went comparing Yuonese women as Japanese wives being comedic comparing the boss to other oddities that the son should avoid them. Nine helpful advice he had learned on his journey after finding love as a man searching for companionship from the Queendom of the west. “We are not rule by evil organizations nor deep states, but . . . desperate housewives. That means son, a husband is regarded as the wife’s property. Don’t become a wallet.”
“. . . . . . .” Takasu did not know how to respond to this mentality. After all, he is just a boy.
“Your mother is sick. She won’t know.”
“. . . . . . .” A stump face before his father.
The rain came pouring down the early morning. The meek mother is weak, was sick for two weeks. The father went to work at a shipyard. Being alone in the home did it bore Takasu. There is nothing to do. No video games. No hand-made games. What, no shame? An outburst of rhyme is not lame. To ease the mind with chores? Only there are the fishes he collected yesterday being salted. Rocking the feet on the chair was no enjoyment.
It was unusual for Po to be whimpering, hiding under the chabudai looking at the welcoming door. Later, a look into the mother’s chamber. “What’s the matter?” Takasu plays peek-a-boo on the family dog. There was no response. “You’re no fun.”
The friendly fox visit the abode and the kid believes yet again, that the beast have appear to see him notably wanting free fishes. But today, the fox was abnormal. Jumping one after another in front of the welcoming door. The shine on it’s coat too have dull. Though had the boy allow the fox to enter, it would not dare.
“Wow, Tod. Did you become a one-tail fox?” It amused Takasu. A blue fire was burnt upon the tip of it’s tail. The beast ignores his question and unchanged. “You want to play in the rain then?” Young Takasu wanted no more but to cure his boredom. As he went to get his rain shoes and a yellow worker squam, a cough presumably upset in the mother’s chamber. He decided to check on his mom before heading outside to play with the fox, or she will be worry sick to her death bed.
It turns out what Takasu saw from the slit opening was not his mom. Though was the room dark because of the covering, and because of the storm clouds, the silhouette was askew. The boy didn’t know how to respond seeing his mother’s back sitting upright in her long night dress cover in blankets gnawing at a bone, which Takasu presume it was from the chicken meal his father gave to his wife before leaving.
A feint cry came from the dark. It sounded not like any mother would make when about to throw-up. Was it enough to creep the boy from not entering a sicken mother’s bed. The sharp and long howl of a stretched throat a woman creates while suffocating. The bone was thrown nearby, revealing was it much larger than the chicken they’ve killed for dinner last night. Takasu is frighten. He move away from the opening of his mother’s chamber.
He remember. A small wood ax his father made for him to practice chopping woods. The tool was near and Takasu sneak away to grab the ax. Was he scare alright yet skeptical. Tod continuously jumping. “What is it?” whisper he.
Takasu didn’t know what the beast was implying. When he ignore the fox to focus on his mother from the slit crevice, the bed sheet wrapped around has fallen. It turns out that the thing was at the bottom laying face-up with the arched vertebra. The tainted yellow eyes were most profound. The mouth was darker than obsidian nights. Screeches and moans devastate the poor boy. It force him no choice but to chop the monster relentlessly. He couldn’t look at what he was doing. The dog ran outside. The fox stop jumping. There is blood on his hands.
An hour of a frightful stare, the fox was gone, the dog waited at the welcoming door, and Takasu’s mother deform into what he couldn’t believe. What was reveal from the lightning was Maid-Ki. Larger is the female.
The boy cry for murdering his pet assuming the cat have came back holding on dearly. But what was notice was an additional prop in the cat’s paws that forces Takasu to jump, falling on his behind against the wall. It was a hand half-eaten with a homemade flower ring. Takasu knew immediately it was his mother’s.
“M-mom! Where are you?” cried out wondering where she could be. Rain came pouring thicker.
Observe he where Maid-Ki had perished. Along the mother’s long night dress, a loose end was tuck under the mat. Surprisingly a trap door is reveal beneath. There is nothing in the shallow escape route. Not even a corpse was laid or disassemble. A light on the wick of an oil lamp he brought flicked. Realize a week ago what his mother had said, “Sweetheart, don’t touch your mother’s heirloom. It’s precious.”
He knew he have to disobey. His mom would never put restriction on what he could do in the house, lest it was something that can be quite dramatic. A peek in the heirloom surely will do no harm. So the boy head to the corner of the master bedroom. Takasu opens the wardrobe heirloom.
And there it is. His mother laid deceased finding her skeleton, three-quarter of it gnawed clean of all flesh. The eyeballs was eaten. The tongue was taken. No wonder the rotten flesh was not smelled. The body was dried along with his mother’s perfume bottles. The faint smells of dried fishes did deceive his father’s nose.
Takasu paused. The fear retaliated when he saw his mother’s face running for his life into the rain with the ax in hand. The oil lamp spew on stepping rocks. The rain boots came loose in a panic. The squam flew off.
It so happen the youth bump into his father a few distant from the abode. The strange death of the mother was not the only thing to haunt Takasu. In the hand of his father was the carcass of a fox.
The father is worried, questioning his boy of his peculiar habits. Especially with an ax in his hand this late afternoon. Until scanning his son’s fingers, a trace of blood being cleaned from the pouring rain. It alerted him moving his son aside and ran straight into the home. The carcass, the umbrella and the medicine bag were let go. Takasu believes he would be accuse, traumatized of the slaughter he committed. The sight of the ax was unbearable. The poor boy drop the tool beside the medicine bag.
The foul stench of the corpse polluted the home. The father was expose to the findings. The trap door was wrecked with hacked marks. The skeleton in the wife’s heirloom placed the highest bid in fear. Pieces of her loose bones trickle down the heirloom and folded mats.
“A man-eater bakeneko.”
The father excruciatingly out of breath holding on his stature. Little does his son know he knew of the creature that ate his wife. Takasu had already left the scene when the father return in haste. He is concerned believing his son may had misunderstood. Po tag along barking loudly. Yell after yell, the rain muffle the vocals. A misfortune plunders him as the ax impales the meat.
Present time.
Fox waited patiently. About how long a reader would take to read this chapter before this sentence. The footsteps from outside the corroded gate had quiet down. Did the man look around for anything that could be of use. The chains were thin and outdated. A slight chance to break though there is nothing with reasonable hardness to match the tempered mineral.
It was a struggle for the arms hanged for the long hours. The nerves are becoming numb. A few selected methods did little to no avail until Fox realizes the pipe from where he is hung is coming undone. A scuffle with the wrapped chains to the corner of the old pipe line. Gradually successful that he gotten close as possible to dislodge it with forced weights. A clank notify a freebooter nearby.
Behind the locked gate was the fisherman. The only inmate. In a couple of minutes, have he escape. The blunt force trauma knocked the guard to sleep from his own curiosity. There were no finding of keys for the locks on his wrists. Oh is the fox smart alright. Hide the sleepy body in a janitor’s locker with a twist.
Time wast wasted searching in the underground facility. A likely stowaway in a company ship of cartels. Have he stumble upon a map of melded metal onto the wall. One of the maintenance roads leads to the upper deck.
“Who goes there-”
A pawn is surprised when raising the flag. Our Fox’s bad luck dealt with the pirate. Being quiet as a mouse will alert the cat so he must act fast. Though the bakeneko trailed.
The maintenance stair is stocked with boxes yet was the travel bearable. From the side, arisen into the third level. The walkway filled with noise muffled and odd machinery smote against metals. Sharp clanks would echo in the alley. The long rhythmic clashes tagged with low pitches of breaths and steams.
There were ammunition on the ground. An assortment of bullet-likes hidden under pipes and elevated flooring. Random apparatus placed on the side of this darkening alley way. Glitching from the light. Oily from lubricated engines. A variety of stacked corrugated boxes and trunks too brushed down to the boiler room from his right crammed with medical supplies.
Fox choose the left road but it is hit with an obstacle later. The alley is sealed at the far opposite end by a substance made of some sort of cement. By chance, must it be termite spit and dirt provided. Much organic too in the composition. Of building structures which wise build on. The fisherman was stump because of this masonry. The pirate ship was larger than depicted when the guild saw perched at the dock in Lasting Autumn.
The air is quiet. Too quiet to his surprise that the fisherman notice a large ruffian in another hall, perpendicular in likeness of the new travel route; whom our Fox suspected that a chubby baddy was rewiring some wires on a hidden electrical box powered by static crystals, where it leads to an advance DNA finger print scanner, a no-good electrician. O the quality of work. A bit of dirty sci-fi with the Metroid vibes. The interstellar drama to crack a code of a momentous door historically forsaken.
“Of mice and men. Which art thou?” The sumo pirate asked aloud. A soft confident chucked, chucked, chucked without the turn back. Had he perceive Fox sneaking pass.
There is no choice but for our fisherman to confront this single sky pirate in the area strangely. Could’ve went for a blind knockout like the trendies. Unfortunately something was wrong. Mister Sumo’s aura is most sinister. So our Fox brandish the chains in defense. The only use of a weapon available. A combat in a congested low-lighted travel way will be hectic.
“That is your answer. Verily well.” replied the strange ruffian with the shewn of the blunted teethes. An unusual corsair employed by his crew who stands up and faces the fisher without alerting the members of his coven. A fat flubber muscle man with a kerchief and the closed eyes rent in lines beneath felt menacing. The sumo pirate didn’t look threatening but how he presented himself, he was.
"Into The Night" by Prazkhanal
It was the ruffian that starts the tick of the clock. A fling of the closest leveled box of heavy object in his reach at Fox. A slap-grab throwing technique. And when our Fox was occupy for the sane seconds, the baddy urge a javelin’s throw of another metal volume from the blind spot in sequence. Rather aiming high, aim direct with unstoppable acceleration to the upmost a body can handle. Unique anime skill certainly that tarnish the hands of our fisher.
From distinctive wrestling to artistic deception. From unprecedented and unattainable infliction. These shenanigans are slalom across the alley way pushing Fox into troubled waters. The shuffling works of gambits. The haughty swinging of the rustic chains. The upside down 360 spin-back roundhouse kick? And anew, more fathomable phoey fights to entertain.
“Where art thou going.” A humorous act of mockery stopping our Fox from passing by the third time. He could see the exit sign far away illuminating. If only our fisher could get away from this bodybuilder precised hand-to-hand motion. The area were constricted. Very few rooms are present including some off shoot platform for maintenance work.
“Go and speaketh thy names of thine arts in vain. Show me that ego of yours that reign in thine domain.” chucked, chucked, chucked the sumo pirate. A commanding, daunting casual walk without a care. The camera focused from below.
It didn’t made any logical sense to Fox. Going around wasting breaths shouting a ridiculous naming convention of his aptitudes to the enemies. The ego? Fortunately it doesn’t endure well with the fisher. By all means, the people of the land probably won’t discern the gag. A sapient isekai man will, to not give the enemies a heads up of all trump cards. I hope.
“Neither applies to me.” spake the tireless reynard. In a battle likely that he wouldn’t win. A low battle front in a quarter above the baddy’s belly, dancing with the environment. The rusty chain wrap the ruffian’s left wrist from the finger tips. Oh, but the pain did not stop mister Sumo and pull the shackle and strip. A hunter’s skill that loosen the arms and give way to the enemy’s shuffle giant palm fist!
“Everlastly, I thank thee. Thou shalt meet the grandpa of lies!” The ruffian was full of pride as he chucked seamlessly.
The chains were severe against the concrete wall. Rugged indents were implanted. The remnants from the cuffs were little of concern. Of nuggets, three to five worth. The terrible weight was lifted. The ghost that sat on Fox’s shoulders proceeded to the light. The fisher made his progress but continue to struggle. The knee fights into peculiar acrobats. The flubber on the enemy was too much that the attack is soften.
“I’m unkillable. Continue that ego. Life’s contradiction is the game. I’ll send you to see a live ghost.”
What an oxymoron. Get it? What vainess the baddy spoke even unto himself. However, found he wise not blind regarding that the sumo pirate’s eyes are closed shut. Our Fox haven’t produce the ego. A misunderstanding perhaps. Seeing the pirate made way into a martial skill resembling a side prayer stance is most unusual through eye deception. Another artistic skill set lured Fox’s eyeballs away and had the pirate strike. Mister Sumo lunge forward the bear hug of doom! The scourged flesh sting. The back crackling from tumultuous pressure. The sumo squeeze. One. Two. Three. Fox couldn’t accept a seldom fate awaits from this trickery. A headbutt would likely untie the knot though was the belly great.
It wasn’t long until Fox found a way to escape hold. Being at the lower end of the spectrum, our fisher made a grab attempt to the groin. A squeeze til the eggs break. It was a leverage for him to control the fight. A shameful execution to one’s adversary. The pirate yank himself into pose. The battle stance said it all for revenge.
The ruffian yelled loudly and greasily was his voice portraying the animal instinct. A short run-up powered thrust kick into Fox, sending him into a misshapen seeping wall of poor men’s carpentry. Satisfaction held not in contempt. The wood breaks and fell our fisher into the armory. The stomach was bluntly stab by an edge from a height that sickens the bowel. The barrels drop and surprisingly Fox sees lately of the trunk bestowed upon him of a known item when puking.
It was the Mask of Unfortunate Blessings, chug away into the piles of useless junks. The broken lunaward too was in the trash which the barrel pour out from a distant. Mister Sumo enters the dusty room to assail his foe. Our little mischievous fox defend himself on the floor with the mask stuffed in rags. It was the closest item in his proximity. The damage wood was no good. He raise the mask. Use it as a covering against the hand ax coming down like a guillotine!
A speedy response believing the ornament may be wreck. It was a thought provoking instant of the past when the ruffian took the weapon hanged in the inner room and hacked. Now, Fox did not understand the properties of the covered mask. In four strike, the hand ax chipped. A chunk to blunt the blade.
The sumo pirate is furious in despite, wanting to flatten our fisher by the rally of his signature palm fists. In the manners of pancakes rather continually to rely on a broken utility. O was he lucky the weapon broke from the fourth hit and went hiding behind some oddities of latitude, of stationed equipment and see-through pipes. Just to get away from the too-fast and too-furious blows. But mister Sumo inevitably chase in.
“Fat chance!” The glass pipes brittle. The rusty pipes burst out steams follow in chain reaction by other assaults.
It was not long that a gimmick was present. For the fisherman to deflect one blow the ruffian produce. To use the mask as another shield raking the enemy’s skin for a newly newt of an uppercut. A guard attempt to relieve him of some strange networks of resonance emanating from the baddy’s arm. This power could not be seen but can it be felted. Not only was it successful, a strange occurrence was dealt to the pirate according to this gimmicky tactic.
A skeleton hand in similarity of the palm in gesture came pouring out. Smaller than the oversize hands both spectated. A slurp-out of the fat in a striking difference. The surprise did not constrict the pirate to a daze. For which he of all smarter ruffians, shuffle and retreat his arms quickly. Mister Sumo was hit. A space was made between them. And of course, the enemy has to spin into a pose ending with the head forward. Did it made Fox doubting this irregular that he may not be a pirate after all but a burglar.
Have the sumo pirate check his hands pull from behind his bod. The palms up front at the side of the belly. A quick scan of his irregulars for surety without the drop countenance. The bone returns into the palm. A slurp into the fat.
“OH, what black magic thou hast done?” undoubtedly mister Sumo questioned. The dried blood rag came off and knew the moment he saw. “Nay . . . Not black magic. One of seventeen veils.” chucked, chucked, chucked the sumo pirate.
Give unto my voice he said to the fisher. Loud and amusing. The conflict has ended. We no need to argue, to contend one with another. We are brethren of the trades. He wouldn’t dare suckerpunch our Fox, that the man is free to go aboard his ship. No words soak in the noggin and battle ready is the fisherman.
“Your ship? Stabbing is what criminals does best.” Not a single henchmen show up from the loud displayed.
“What am I? Nearly yet wisely am I predictable. Little boy, ‘tis my motto.”
So the sumo pirate turn his back first to convince the fisher. Retreat from the armory and head down the road where he was cracking a code of wires. Fox was lost in logic. It would be something an isekai man would do. They all carried that same trait to let people go and later joins them. Has it became a mark to define a freely isekai man. But is the thought distracting. Fox nearly forget my weapon beside his foot of an early plan of his.
The armory has another door. It is a double-wide door conjoined into a maze dungeon that leads up to place the guild had been before. And after it, was the quarterdeck with a multitude of hiding spots. Foots were in hurries. The foreign pirate activists chug Colonel Sanders into the sky river. The area was on alert. It turns out that the man was not the only one breaking out of jail. Some of the travelers revolted their sentences.
All the dramas were heated. The cunning fox closed his distance and hides behind them, the three that were the most talkative of the spread out groups. Hardly seeing our fisher poking his head slightly beyond to catch a glimpse of the actions. A good amount of information leaked concerning other important subjects. Was the fisherman spare good hints.
And what of many would that be?
“G-G-Grinch. G-Grinch is a freaken f-freak, man!” A skinny human scallywag huffing and puffing from a desperate run panicking of some event. The two G.I. and a dwarfven were most confused by the babble. What on Torah is he talking about? Grinch is Grinch. There is no need to worry.
One of the G.I. respond with his arms folded because he couldn’t believe the nonsense, “Are you on drugs?!”
“No! Go check for yourself!” The three men were lost, looking at each other with the frown eye lashes.
A foreboding episode. A disturb mist float above their heads as a change of scene to what happens to yours truly. Because am I a main character in this satire story, that those three will leave their post to meet. To the room of flashes that has given many pirates the crow’s feet.
Not only was the band of buccaneers in fear but also my guilders of what was reveal to them, hearing another looter further behind rushing out of the human trafficking cell. A terror engulf within the heavy atmosphere. I couldn’t believe the toughest seamen who wouldn’t complain about their despicable duties to wheeze uncontrollable. Truly that some were having asthma attacks from the slow clicks of flash.
“Indeed. We are legions.” answered Grinch. “You know, Seneth. The most painful weapon dealt isn’t with a sword . . . or the bullets that ravished the fleshes . . . nor a pen. But a camera.”
The master of the ship pulls down the stolen object. A cynical, eerie performance that Grinch bares with his teethes and tongue strangely of a swaying hiss without the S. Was Grinch a formidable actor. Gone beyond representation of kabuki theater. Had it echo in the cell. A third pirate ran out screaming hysterically.
“. . . Of what memory did you accrued?” I had to be sure from my paused. It’s gotta be from that movie. How?
Many would call him the scaly small-horn devil of the dragon. But I see Grinch as a nobody. Like men who are greater. To they who would say to him, “This is he, that made the world shook in fear?!” Implying simply as found out, “This is the tiny nerd, who shook fear of us all in the land of all-muscle man?!”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
Oh, does it says much about the world of the one who is behind the carpet. Clearly not the nerds nor yours truly and was I mentally stabbed. For the sake of entertaining, I’ll just called Grinch an anime-demon-midget-dwarf-with-thick-abs. What scary face he has. Oh grandpa, what sharp teethes you have. Did the creature smile creepily prying the camera. The he he he, he progresses. I must think of something quick but what?
“Come now. Don’t tell me thou art afraid of I. I am me. Me as in the flesh skin deep.” and so he scoffed and a continuation of giggles. The jacket came undone from the bouncing shoulders. The hides of old Grinch peeled off. The pirates in the room wasn’t sure if the demon was their employer. His talks. His manners. His natures are of. Now, I can reenact useless priest crafts, to throw a cross idol with holy water onto the anime-demon-midget-dwarf-with-thick-abs, and surely will Grinch melt like the wicked witch of the west. A possible solution though there is a slight problem. We, O children, are in fantasy reality.
“Dare thee, you know me not. So I’m persecuted.” spake I.
Seeing Dorthy and Toto are worn out, I have to think of something. The pain I’m in was too much for first time experience. The cowardly lion Thorg may help if I act discretely and fast. The good yankee witch may not with the damage leg. Scarecrow Fox is locked up somewhere so there is no other helpful advice. What does that leave me with? The isekai child in me playing the tin man with my tinfoil hat. Oh boy, an irony in avarice just to sing.
“How heartless can thy be to insult your benefactor? Roll the dies and lets finish the game for me have my needs.”
You are no benefactor of mine. Why must the demon mentally stabbed me of my recent thoughts too. Heartless tin man huh. Better to quote honorably now then waste it forever holding my impending gloom. “The land is of lawyers and of merchants. To bride their way for security and powers. Your bad deeds have gone too far. I can’t let you continue with this.”
Wow, does it sound embarrassing. I must be getting old. If wooing a beautiful good virgin woman is harder than getting a fine country, then I don’t know what to say after; but if getting a defiled woman is easy as defiling in a corrupt country, then I might just go astray and find another path.
“You son of a wicked witch! What blabbering buffoon are you saying?” Grinch reply most pathetically and was it iconic that the anime-demon-midget-dwarf-with-thick-abs is even paraphrasing a quote of one of my favorite films. It did made me think. I must be in dreamland. Continue the demon, “You can’t kill us. We are legions of cameras. We’ll maim and steal thy soul. A fatling of me precious. Lovingly liberty are we. We love dramas but never our own thou seest. Your suffering made us glad to be alive.”
So it is another battle of words. You could say it was more sophisticated afterward. Leaching off each other’s ideas to soften the impact. Grinch wounds me and I anger him in return. Wasn’t long that this stand-off wears down.
“Incel am I?” The master of the ship was cornered when I spout of a slang word he never knew. And of this strangeness that I have acquired, to invoke the mouth and tongue piece of the Mask of Unfortunate Blessings. “They laughed ashamedly. I robber asked for my underwear and I humbly gave it. People spit into my food for fun and I humbly ate it. The world had done ill to me and I humbly take it. In due, will they be mark.”
Call me an anime crazy in predation. Whatever it takes. Bring on the edgelords because I need their strength right as of now.
“I’ll sip you like wheat! You worthless prawns and pecks. Thou hath no rules nor laws. Me doest what me pleases. I’ll end the speeches!” Grinch magnify his hate. The clicks of flash hasten.
“I won’t let the evil that comes from you scatter like the leaves of the sakura.” Yea, I gave him, the true normie or normies other than Narbodci the best one-liner from one of my favorite film, Uzumasa Limelight. Truly was it Uzumasa Limelight production studios verses Hollywood production studios. Have you been deceived by The Wizard of Oz?
“Roll!! I wanna finish you in style.”
We argue like kids who wants to get the last words. The frustrated Hollywood creature ordered the men who surrounded the cell line to puppet my left hand, but the fear they ingested was enormous holding their composure. In a groggily voice Grinch telling me to roll the dices once more. This time, I wouldn’t listen and discern for myself.
For the shadow people surrounding Grinch from behind, they were most upbeat. Still giggling, wearing a bandanna with the logo, “This Is You” upon their forehead. I never expect some of the shadows wore tinfoil hats themselves. Oh goodness. What’s wrong with this picture? Does not those sheep know they’re being guided into the slaughter house? What big mouths they have. Oh my. Here and there again, have the shadow swallow the fly.
“That does it!” The master of the ship pulls a like-gun hidden under his mercenary jacket. The same weapon he murdered the Phoeni in Russian roulette and without a thought, bang! The trigger clicks and the cliques of evil triggered.
My hearts beats quick of this unforgiving scene behind the ever wintergreen. Of a slight sweaty straight face. That first nervous moment when a lucky person ‘bout to go down the roller coaster. Was Grinch mad alright; that his gun is emptied from a gameplay of Russian roulette with the Phoeni in the early hours. My face was disgusting to him. The thought that an isekai will insatiably ruin his fun in torturing. And for me to be staring at him, he threw the weapon. It bruise the side of my head.
The only thing continuously engrossing were the shadow people. A continual girly-men giggles into laughs of all degrees which a sane person would find wickedness in them. They’ve cursed themselves. By all means, could I be a comedian? Is it not funny to the anime-demon-midget-dwarf-with-thick-abs. It wasn’t long until Grinch shows it. A like-shotgun is grab from the table’s leg. Much larger than he is was the killing instrument. Load the weapon with two glowing purple round ores.
“Fatality!” commanded Grinch. The weapon snap together then suddenly. Ka-Boom!!!
The company ship exploded. The room shook intensely. We all flew.
The near impact was devastating. Desperately I took the chance. Grinch glide before me and I headbutt the creature with the help of the sprites. To harden my forehead as my last resolve. It wasn’t the smartest I figure but beats doing nothing. It was the right move to transfer my tinfoil hat over to the Hollywood demon. Bird Man had release his hold of Baima and finish the blow with a smite to the captain’s cheek. The master of the ship flew to the corner damaging a shack of items.
I fell to the floor past my chair, couldn’t move much because of the pain but it did not stop me from searching. A remembrance that the sprites had the power to heal. Have I insist the three lights to enter the wounds believing some miracle will abrupt, and contain this dis-pleasurable agony that had creep unto my limbs. The flesh did not recover. But was the pain somewhat subtle down where the sprites filled the gap. The veins are restore, aligned with the untouched muscles. Something is amiss that is affecting the regeneration process though I know not of the science.
For a chicken and a hobo, us duo weren’t aware of the confusion. Walking off the plank into the mouths of hungry gators will make anyone’s day. Oh the unpreparedness; the mind is occupied.
A slight glance from Odessa’s reaction. The two tall pirate twins drawn their cutlasses and went after the kids. The guild raise their voices. Odessa and Korimi worked together falling over and working through obstacles to free themselves from the hands of men slobs. Calling them a slob is too vague. It might have sounded as a direct insult onto our toy mechanic, Baima.
“How dare you bite me ye little peck!” The twin handler was out of patience dealing with the beastian from the early morning. He wants to scalp Korimi’s head. The sword raise from the side. Though had one pirate laying on the floor got up to stop him, telling him not to destroy the goods or they’ll face the wrath of Grinch. The twin did not care and retorted. He made way angered.
Korimi trip the baddy who plea. Very soon, a second handler, the brother of the one who is impatient got hold of the beastian’s foot. It was about the same time that Baima too tripped another pirate who also fell down to the floor damaging his head, pushing away the fainted man whom pounced her. She move her prosthetic leg from an uncomfortable pose figiting on some implanted device in a hurry. It was not a standard button. More like solving a pop-up jig-saw puzzle follow by a press to trigger an activation. Simple to the karakuri house the battle teens and I were in one previous. With one hand stretch outward, Baima wrap around Korimi’s chest and Odessa help pull the little beast boy away. The cutlass is stuck in wood.
The kids turn when Baima exclaimed. The jig-saw located at the heel of her prosthetic leg was reconfigured and pressed. Came down Baima’s battle gadget from a room above. A thick, simple, chubby, mecha machine no larger than she, squashed the rotten veggies! The dust shewn. Had the dirt blown to our direction. I couldn’t see much and came another power shot that shook the cell and made a large aperture.
For me to be carry around like a lady in distress, it is nerve wrecking to admit it. My feet went flying and assault a teenager, literally a gang member who brought his father’s katanas with him everywhere he has gone. The fight didn’t last nor did his bling sheen. The teenage mutant ninja was bleeding awfully bad in the head. The copious blood dripping all over the face and uniform but it did not stop him to return the favor as he curse out loud. It is unforgivable he said to end the life of Thorg who slap him crazily from the top of the nob.
Yelling loudly was the teenager’s war cry. It is ridiculous hearing the buffalo boy. A couple of slices unto Thorg’s furry shoulders were misses that alert Bird Man to let me go for us to do our on fathomable details. The blade drop before his face. The two hands slap together holding the katana. A cheap shot this cabin boy probably learned from the best of their ilk. It was a back-to-back style of fight once again with Big Bird. I can’t say it was like the time we fought the warm welcoming of guilds in the forest of Lasting Autumn. Thorg was at fault.
A dodge of spears and swords moving one’s behind push me into a death scene. Another act of his attacking, a weapon shelf came falling down on my right hand. Has it exacerbate the sting. And finally, the grand pose of a battle stance with the stomping of the feet. Big Bird step on my right foot with intense showoff causing me more pain than help. I grab my right leg hopping to stop the anguish. What is up with him?!
I was surprise that the teenager pull out another blade. The boy went straight to dual-wield his katanas to show his father’s ultimate skill. “Unlimited Black Flame!” he said that ended all talks.
Either that was the cringiest set of illegitimate moves or just the naming, your pick. It would’ve been more awkward if it was a stereotypical anti-social guy trying to improve his life, inherently taking on traits to be socially active.
Thorg did not respond directly at me giving the teenager a slap to the head once more when re-entering striking distant. The cabin boy finally fainted most humorously. However, it was not attended from my perspective. Big Bird telegraph a piece of his intelligent, “Seneth, we need to get out. The coop is too compact.”
Was the chicken right for not crossing the road. Any further fight prolonged in this cell line will only trap us with more pirates entering. So the best case scenario you may have not guess would be to steal the teenage gang member’s wooden katana. This is a beneficial acquirement just like in an JRPG video game. If you defeat an enemy, they must drop a rare item. Have I taken this to a new level and dramatically have lost some logic. There is nothing wrong with that. Finders keeper. A cult-like thinking of gamers. Another way of presenting nicely that I stole his stuff with the plausible deniability of being call the King of The Hill, company edition. Yes, never returning what was borrowed. The katana will be put to well use my friend.
With the wooden weapon in my right hand sheathed, the moment was right to impersonate. Grinch brought up many old memories. Why not Hiroki Matsukata? I will not let the evil that comes from you scatter like the leaves of the sakura was what I had said, right? Right? Next thing me knew, I was in a rehearsal fighting pirates as a samurai in confined spaces, surrounded not only with cells, bars and quarter rooms but also disdained paper walls. Mayhaps a plebeian warrior seeking glories during the Sengoku era. All the chuckling and cool and famous flashy sword swings mimicking Hiroki Matsukata’s days of drama; might it as well be his father with the actors who are great at being killed with a twist of my fate.
Key in the western outbacks for me, in fusion as I hone down the killer baddies. For a dull knife is so more dangerous I reminded once again. A perfect disaster to change character classes to become an edgelord of darklords only in title lest it was for fame. Though it is really an affront because a portion my finest hobo clothing are variation of black. Dangit.
Exiting the ship with the guild would be a wiser choice. The younglings were already escorted into another area. Seem like the pirates didn’t want to loose the goods just yet. We can’t really do much with our current problem. That is, to go into the heart of the lion’s den. The outer deck is our objective. So me guild found a route and took the path not knowing were it leads. Korimi insist that it is the right path.
Grinch came thrashing out from the corner. The three men whom left the post stumbling into the cell line near Grinch shocked of what they saw. The seaman that Baima pushed away awaken at the giant hole noticing rumbling sounds bellow the wide abaft.
“The Bagitha clan!!!” The pirate exerted. An effort to warn those who are conscious of a fearless platoon made way to scene, hooking not just the two G.I. and a dwarfven but the Hollywood superstar Grinch himself.
“Don’t just stand there yol blubber heads! Get moving!” Until the order was given from this strange demon, the three men snapped back together, wiping away their sweats that it was probably Grinch from the tone. They left with some of the men. Grinch waste no time seeing glimpse of us leaving and came after we or should I say me instead traveling on all four legs. So who is the pig?
Oh was Grinch less valuable than a pig. But a creature twitching and baffled wailing of a demonic witch in torn corrupted white. A bleeping portal entity re-chasing a subjected meal. Why must he have the cracking joints of The Grudge? Very little to hover above ground as ghosts. The master of the ship launch for me guild.
“Me precious!” Grinch’s shout is distorted. The pirates in the way engulf in unreal fear. It turns out the dwarfven was a skinwalker. Bodily changes made could not be apprehend by the pirates. No more was the master of the ship recognizable. Had he morph strangely larger coming after us like a glitch in the matrix. The body of old Grinch was reconfigured. Stretched and a dirty white torso that is long enough to creepily install the fear for grown men when they least expect. Surrealism have pay the toll. The shadow people follows him from behind with their phone cameras wanting part of the actions.
From the hall running for our lives, we all saw this creature that once was the anime-demon-midget-dwarf-with-thick-abs rampaging for our souls. The upper body and features were disturbing. A few turns to other constricted hallways did not stop him even as a majority of it’s body fill the route, stampeding into different position even unto the walls and pipelines and electrical devices. A strange pound of indents made unseen and seen, of cracked and bent, of distort and shrinking. The sounds produces were distinct enough of a submarine getting implode by the pressure in deep water.
Thorg bump over what it looks like a pirate maintenance worker coming down from a staircase. They were glad getting out of the warped dungeon. This natural cave labyrinth that had it became would isekai men venture in. The mecha robot follows Korimi who led the charge sniffing the area to be sure. Odessa give Baima a hand though was it not enough that our mechanic would force her broken leg to act. Was I the last to make the turn onto the stairway believing that it was the route they had took. Yea, have I fallen behind because closing doors partially and knocking over large tooling would it ever slow down a large hunk of demon meat.
A battle was happening on the outer entrance from the staircase. The robot, Baima and Thorg confront pirates believing my guild were travelers that had escaped when the Bagitha clan commence their assault. I have no choice in those quick seconds when I made the turn and close the sliding metal door manually; since the auto-features and whatever other noticeable operations were damaged. A guess from pictures the door provided. If it is broken, do this and do that.
Oh it wasn’t long before Grinch shows up. The skinwalker pound the gate. The maintenance worker ran for his life in the hall with the monster. All that stressful effort to close the jamming door was for naught. The surprise caught me off guard flicking me one step above the footing, headbutting Baima’s little peaches. She assume right away a seaman may have done the unthinkable penetrating. The tingles went around her body turning around to inspect the perpetrator. I was being subjugated by the malformed creature. It is unclear what energy Grinch manifested. Akin to the force likely but evil in nature. Something that the body would reject or would be harmful in full amount.
I couldn’t believe what happens next.
The mutated demon roll his stuck head that look like the back of someone’s end, jerk the door slightly and appear below wasn’t mister Johnson. A degenerate face with a slit mouth in four equally distributed sections. Tentacles thwart out of it’s long gaping mouth within. The blueish-blacken tongue covers what is left of the split mandible. The appendages spiral up and around my finest pant instantly yanking me into it’s translucent cavity. The wooden katana was pin behind the broken iron rod. The only life saver stopping a poor man from entering the gaping mouth with every suck.
“Holy Moes!” Scared the crabs out of my feet. Grinch was also a glitching cthulhu werewolf! The slime descended from my waist secreting plentiful of goo. Very unpleasant for a man but probably not for Baima, an unsold woman who is searching for sexy studs. I have a feeling she is more of a non bloomed bud. I would consider this a favor.
“Trade places, Baima-!”
“Hell no!!” Well, that was too quick of a response. Baima didn’t have the strength to pull up a fat boy after realizing it was me who bumped her from behind when delivering a club to an enemy. One or two hauls wasn’t enough while telling me that am I too heavy. Her legs were shaking when stressing her muscles.
Odessa throwing miscellaneous scraps around the staircase at Grinch. The materials thrown is unidentifiable other than piles of broken metallic tiles. Perhaps a pole too past my vision. The demon did not falter. It’s eyes intensify and fixate on consuming my half-baked bacon. The master of the ship broke pass the barrier inch by inch. There must be a way to send the glitching demon back into the basement.
The mind is occupied that made I to realize too late. A sharp, rough-looking, scaly, threaded, zombie dragon head in resemblance digitize, conjure out from an odd shoulder. No similarity with the dwarfven’s skin textures. Horrendous blurbs and choke vocals ensue. Hearing it in the middle of dead nights would spook anyone more than an anger howling cat. The new investment covers in what it can be made out, a thick spike coat of armors grafted onto the neck moving in one direction. The great lizard is alive with a brain of it’s own. Though was the meat of the hostile beast fairly new, it was having difficulty maneuvering, shaking with every action, shrieking terribly and horrifying unlike any medieval fantasy one heard of.
The gaze was upon Odessa in hunger drooling of poisonous fountain gases. It span it’s sludge one could call it; all around the vicinity of the stair case within the derelict cavern space system. A space mine you may imagine. Odessa lose the will to attack. I’m losing grip with the wooden katana from sweat accumulated in the hand, causing me to resort into using the sprites. Little Lily was the closest to the enemy nurturing the bullet hole of my right foot.
The demon spake of strange reasons. Short stop of many reasons concerning about the good dark. I wasn’t paying attention though have heard only of “joining them” and “become a whole entity.” Whatever that means. If it is similar to the bio insect, Fajita Carlos, the biker gang whose named is Charles lecturing about the dark wisdom to consume strange flesh, then there is no point of joining by consumption. It is diffidently a no to consent with a cannibalism. So I work up an effort to say some randomness in return.
“Ode to a hobo. With my heart is as black as the night, you’ll be conceal in the darkness of unlimited blades work; of heaven and earth-born reversal.” Cringe? Who would be. It can be. With my dark finest hobo clothes, it fits purely. Has it add insult to my physical injuries. Lily gleam into the werewolf’s eyes leaving my wound. The pain swell.
“M-me eyes!” Grinch cried out his inner chunibyo but the dragon was alright.
The hostile beast swung the shaking neck after me from the side. After it, another hone strike. A good chomp misses me damaging the wall and parts of the iron rod because Grinch have change the elevation of his newly acquired body. Odessa and Korimi ascend to avoid being eaten, bumping into Thorg who is gank by the ninja pirates tipping over from the courtesy of the kids. Over Bird Man, the seamen saw the creature scaring the living days out of them scrubs. They retreat.
I have to let go of the katana to turn over on the stair enfolding Baima with me. The threaded dragon attack the third time taking snippets of the stair with it. Black blood drips from the wildly whip. Baima lost her balance and fell towards the bottom floor closest to the jammed door behind the great neck of the lizard, holding her breath thinking the fountain of heavy gorging gases could be poisonous. Her prosthetic leg is dislocated.
The shaking movement is unpredictable. The dragon must be claustrophobic. Grinch did not have full control. Quickly came something we all did not expect. The lunaward spin and pierce into the demon’s spongy skin. Good, the weapon is nearby.
I took the broken sword and stab the monster countless times until he or “it” may had it been, to discharge the strong grips from the octopus-like tentacles. The lunaward also served as a place holder encase the captain would try another suck that would devastate my lower portion. I wasn’t prepare for trouble.
And make it double! A serious double trouble losing not only my legs but virginity. Bodily liquids from inside the mutated demon, stomach acid presumably was purging from the translucent cavity. It could be lethal to dissolve my flesh in matters of minutes.
Our fisher arrive. Like all heroes would proclaim their bad-butt moments. Quick with speed, flashing and lightning accuracy, slash the captain deadly with a fancy, flexible, straight scabbard you wouldn’t find a ninja pirate to wield. It is called Tsukasaya, meaning a scabbard handle.
Fox pin out the weapon from below to cut off the thick hide. One tentacle was loosely incapacitate. The wound weaken the tough arms for me to escape the purging stomach acid. The lunaward pull out and head me to obtain the wooden katana tucked behind the iron rod. More weapons, the better. Fox carry Baima verily romantic causing her to blush. Our group left the scene.
What do we do now? Travelers are fighting the space pirates. Even a bimbo joins in the fun was odd enough to disregard. The Bagitha clan is in chase of the ship from below. The battle rigs are heated. Some rigs are equip with fantasy dinosaurs while others are on wheels, exiting the petrified state of a small wasteland into a more greenery plain. I’m sure I saw a butterfly net too for catching dinosaurs. The clan fighting the pirates’ fantasy carriers of at least three to five men onboard coming down from the craft. Wicked long hook shots from the clan enters the hull and keel where the impact bellow a huge strange bubble to force entrance. You could bet all the action awing one could get through a chase development. I have my own witness.
From below:
“Bagitha! Bagitha!” said the driver.
“Bagitha!”
“Bagitha! Bagitha! Bagitha!”
“Bagitha?!” answered the driver. A space pirate carrier came crashing down immolate in projectiles. The black magician swish the hand in the movement of a conductor, high and mighty he raise his magic wand and a spell ignite deflecting the space machinery. The echo spell of horrors call out in tongue: Ha Brakha Dabra. The blessing has spoken.
“Get to that sail, Wurcmire. We ride into Mordred’s Field.” Calsufur refine his senses. Always did stand up on the battle rig riding shotgun. A meteor dropping from the sky did not even phase the man.
“Bagithaaaaaa!” again replied the driver. Bagitha is the official language of the post-apocalyptic punks in military suits. Arrive strong are these punks.
A hobo looking down from the ship is amusing.
“Oh boy. Where is Ken when you need him.” That was what this hobo here thought. A really crazy military battle goin’ on down there. Interception, confrontation to barrages of arsenals. Rigs and carriers being destroy and flip over. I can’t even imagine the quote on their insurance if they were in the our old world. Like would they even care?
Ahem . . .
How the heck do one summon a pet?! A jingle dance? Skimming earlier of my fortunate hours in Lasting Autumn, not one bit of my solitude spent did I research on how pet summoning work. Am too, afraid of the scrubs who’ll shoot the poor mammal down the sky. Our current placement defies the safe rule. It must be done.
“. . . We’ll ride my pet cloud whale.” Bring on the music. I’m gonna smirk.
“H-huh?!! You have a pet cloud whale?!!” The guild was shock.
“We can’t leave the people alone, Seneth. The taste is bad afterward.” Odessa mustered up. Baima and Korimi agrees much to the idea.
The thinking cap. Saving my own skin or the guild will only drop their morale. Being in a guild, ‘tis in the leader to insure the survival of his members. This stinks to be put into a moral issue. Gee, morals eh? Tell it to a soldier who is in the middle of war with their opposition; both faction in contact, fighting with their last weapon for survival. A combat knife. Or the men in quick reaction to put down an innocent child who is wired with a known active bomb running scare toward a large group of innocents. No one wants to but has to.
The mind is occupied. So . . . I reaffirm with an add-on that we’ll do something about the ninja pirates from space by using the cloud whale as air support. I put on the Mask of Unfortunate Blessings. Enter into the view of gamer’s mode swiping pass Menus, Party Infos, Guild Liaison, Collectibles, Friend List, Marriage Candidate, Spell System, Summons, Pets, Familiars, Biology, Key Items, Reference, Master Index and the list goes on.
Korimi didn’t understand what I was doing. A stewarding of a symphony within the air. Fox drop Baima down where her mecha robot repairs her prosthetic attachment. Soon the enemies assault the guild when saw us hiding.
“There is no time to mime-.” Thorg concluded it is a waste.
“Bingo.” The directory was I looking for is Tutorial. A specific kind of whistle is needed to summon the cloud whale. Horse manure!
However, don’t lose hope. Players can attempt summoning their battle pets too by whistling with their hand. A specific position hold in place on the mouth. Though it is not a guarantee one-hundred percent but is of fifty-fifty. I’m not a good whistler and the chance of failing is grave. Not like my lucky streak with the battle against the gyinosha. The specialize whistle, a player must provide a thumb and one finger at each end of the mouth spread wide. From there, contracting the tongue, lip muscles, and teeth to produce a unique low whistling resonant. I blow the trumpet. Hardly sounded like a fine tune. A red giant of Rraengold appears down from lightning from behind our backs, of a great, characteristic battle jump in the firmament beside the ship! Grinch blast through his hole looking for me on deck.
“What is a red giant doing in these lands?!” The seamen are surprised. The mutated cthulhu werewolf was an addition. Some of the men were killed by Grinch in the process who is in the captain’s way.
“Hoi, y-you summoned a giant?!” Fox was really concern.
“Oops.” I couldn’t respond.
Grinch has a present to give. He divided my guilders. Yea, to divide and conquer is probably the captain’s tactic. Fox and me were separated from the rest of our merry band of misfits. Unlucky had always been my make-believe middle name. The master of the ship swung a tentacle landing at the hand. I was pull away by the suction cups. The wrap gets tighter the more I resist. Thinking that it would work the second time, I ask Daisy, my light sprite in the right fore palm to blind the monster. Though it was not effective than the previous attempt from little Lily. The cthulhu werewolf is already semi-blind.
The red giant spout a braking lazer layer from the left eye, an actual mouth for vision. The short beam purge into Grinch damaging all of his oddly intestines. The tentacles severed. Right after, another shot but longer and more powerful, purges the slave trader to topple from the deck. Little Daisy was isolated from me. The sprite will hangout with the guild until our reunion.
"Keep them company, Daisy." spake I, raising the voice.
Bang! The monstrous behemoth immediately release a longer braking beam following after the second assault cutting off the sail leading to destroy any seen communication towers. Soon went the large hominoid in descent back into the land.
I am hanging on a thread with my wounded hand. Our fisher did try to help but it only drag him along. It was less than a minute that us fell and landed above a machinery ready to take off. It was humorous on our part to drop unannounced. Down we fall from the sky with no parachutes from a platform with them. Yea, a physical argument did sustain. We couldn’t feign our superiority. Fought the four men inside the vehicle hilariously. Not intended.
The red giant of Rraengold embrace and crash into the ground. The feet plunders the hills. No weakness shown. Getting up was no hassle to the hominoid. There is no defects in the foot. Two big foots out in the opening. “Like heck do we have that power.” I was jealous of the giant who survived. The shield carpet is my last resource. Fox believe I was a bloody joke that it would break our high altitude fall with the feisty dwarfvens onboard.
We literally have no choice. We have to make stuff up now. The dwarfvens passed out except for one. The main pilot is unaware of us doing his best for emergency landing in the middle of warfare. I throw my lunaward to Fox and grab inside the weapon by the power of the Parallax memoir with the good hand. The castrated hand suffers too much. I need the other two sprites in the feet to hold balance and footing.
Out roll the carpet of a scroll. I would not label myself as a brilliant meteor or you’ll just plummet quicker. Fox sees what was in the bag rift. An item I had all along that I never new what it’s for. He pulls the sack with the shield carpet. It was the first item given from the blacksmith. Necroplant dust.
“This should work. Animate the carpet.” said Fox. The fisherman smear the sparkling fairy dust onto the carpet and so did I. He said to me that the dust is limited in making inanimate objects alive with quirky abilities. It was design for other means but we can’t be picky. You don’t say? I finally got myself a flying carpet. A fusion of energies appear in the center of the shield carpet. Veins stretch around breathing it’s life for the first.
“Not a flying a carpet. It can only catches wind.” answered Fox suffering from his wound.
“Fine with me to catch my drift.” We duo prep as quick as possible. Finding any possible slip ins in the golem bamboo. We made sure us misfits will not fly away empty handed. While gathering our tools, a shift of the wind changes our direction. We turn our back toward the carpet holding it in place by the arms between the shaft. Cured threads of silk spiders minimize possible minor abrasion and cuts. The wind pick up fairly but not enough for a good glide.
And upon the next wind, we didn’t realize the pilot dwarfven within the cockpit was yelling. Instead of proceeding to land safely, he will honor the code of pirates by running his flying vehicle into the black magician. Score a win for the Sand Space Pirates. The midget is determine to complete a kamikaze. He found the black magician’s main rig and we did not know what to do other than to jump hoping the wind will blow. The dive becomes deeper and more riskier for us.
“Die! Die! Die! Die, Calsufur! You’ll never be great like the Forty Lords of Thieves! Unlike any of us!” A continue of wild screams. Fox was on edge listening of the dwarfven’s last words. I kept my silent from this shallow public utterance.
Calsufur swing out the mighty magic wand of dark cedar from under the sable cloak. Two twirls and a spell ignite. The echo spell of horrors call out in tongue: Ha Brakha Dabra. The blessing has spoken once more rolling the tongue with the letter R. Something was wrong. The machinery deflected but not the curious item from behind. Quickly alert the black magician to wave once more in reverse. Two twirls and a spell ignite. The mummer spell of horrors call out in tongue: Al Qasam. Oath is call forth.
“Tsek. A veil!” It is a nuisance to Calsufur that the darker magic did not work. He concluded it must’ve been a true veil have nullified his great works. Again, quickly devise a plan. Pinch the callus for a blood offer; The black magician slap the hands to together; weave three hand signs of the dark arts in episode; the exploding aircraft crashed beside the master rig; and when the carpet came upon him in speed with all leftovers of the craft, about three feet from him, pull the hands out to safeguard himself from the damage, pushing the cult leader far far away from the main battle rig of the last from behind. The sturdy carpet cave over Calsufur. The chariot of his flaunt and flip over with three other punks on board. An indirect hit.
The cloud went by. The morning is risen.