Surrounded by charged bolts the monster whose name read in glowing purple over its massive body, [Mary's Hope [Premature]],
Walked in a way that mimicked a freshly born deer. Born to battle, his eyes held those of youth, not of furry.
Its body is an imperfect representation of what Mary had hoped him to be. One arm was massive when compared to the other. This is the one he swung like a hammer, causing waves of damage across the battlefield.
His face was half complete.
One half is beautiful, the other half not.
He was the ultimate representation of what could have been. When you place all your hopes in one basket and aren't given the best result. You are left with a thing that looks sort of like the thing you imagined, but then it's not.
An ugly truth that reinforces the law that hard work does not always pay off.
That most times will and intent is no where near enough.
That blood, sweat, and tears are the prerequisites but not the guarantee.
The only words that came out from his mouth were unintelligible gibberish that almost had something to it.
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Like a child who is beginning to mimic speech but still doesn't have a firm grasp on conversation.
It was crude and ugly and perfect because of it.
Behind, Mary screamed her commands to a creature that had just been born and was now forced to fight against the mightiest warriors of the realm.
I pitied the creature.
The raid did not sit right in my soul.
On top of his head a bolt ran through one side and out the other.
Peering into the system, it read
[Shelly's Bolt]
The unique necromancer drop was one fight away. It being physically on the creature meant that the drop rate would be high if not guaranteed.
As his life bar began to crumble and reaching the halfway point, Mary began to scream enchantments that sounded every bit demonic and no part scientific.
Give him strength, Lord of Hell.
I offer everything for right now.
For the power to change.
For the strength to survive.
A red glow broke into the raid.
Arid winds and broken souls cursed out of a portal that appeared from out of nowhere.
Everyone stopped in their tracks.
Tanks laid down their taunts.
Wizards rested their spells.
Healers were allowed to breathe.
Its energy was hot and haunting.
A presence that weighed the air, that crushed souls, forcing our breathing to quicken, our hearts in our throats.
It smelled of doom.
The party was frozen in terror.
In that moment, I broke through.
Transcending my soul, I walked up towards the fiery red portal of hell.
A voice broke through.
Everything for nothing
I will take that deal
Young Faust.
Event Engaged
[Faustenstein's Birth]