Munich. DEAMERICA killing me. Sure it will come for others. HELP
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🎉👏One Year Anniversary👏🎉 of an amazing thread!
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The object pulsed a light blue light as Alfred brought it up to his face. It was rectangular in structure, a near perfect cube. Across its surface was a latticework of grooves forming seemingly random patterns of circles and lines, and out of these grooves a strange light was emanated. It seemed to pulse in rhythm with the king's own heartbeat. "How strange, he muttered to himself, putting the object back on the floor of the wreckage, seeing it go dark again. The area was littered with hundreds of such objects. Alfred and a dozen of his trusted bodyguard were searching the twisted, charred metal remains at the foot of the Red Mountain. He squeezed through a tight passageway and found himself in the ruins of a small room containing sets of strangely light yet resistant armor. The major difference of this armor, though, was that it was made for someone with four arms.
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Grabbik looked around at his eight companions, feeling terribly insecure despite the company. They had come probing deep into Elkrite forest on orders from Myron, the brutish, unmerciful orc. Grabbik hadn't questioned the orders at all, not even to his fellow goblins, thinking that whatever danger awaited them in the thick wood could not match the sure doom of Myron's wrath! Now Grabbik wasn't so sure. They had seen nothing, heard nothing, but every member of the goblin scouting party knew that they were not alone. They crossed one sandy ridge and came into a deep patch of tall grass ferns growing in the shadows of wide-spreading elms.
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"What was that?" one goblin croaked, dipping into a defensive crouch and trying to visually follow an elusive, darting figure through the deepening shadows. All in the group danced about nervously, sensing they were vulnerable. "Quiets!" Grabbik scolded, fearing the noise more than any suspected spies.
"What was-?" one goblin tried to ask again, but his words were cut short as an arrow pierced it throat. The eight remaining goblins scrambled for cover, dropping under the ferns and crawled for the elms. Grabbik heard a noise like a snapping stick, the the goblin closest to him soared into the air, kicking and gasping, as a vine noose tightened about its neck. -
That proved too much for two of the others. They jumped up and broke into a run for the trees. Neither got more than a few short strides before arrows took them down. "Where was they?" Grabbik called to his companions. "Left!" cried one goblin. "Right!" screamed another. There came a flurry of bow shots, arrows slicing through the ferns and knocking into trees, then all went quiet. The goblin in the air stopped its thrashing and began turning slowly in the wind. Grabbik crawled to one of his companions, lying still in the ferns. "Five of usses left," Grabbik reasoned. When the other didn't answer, Grabbik turned him about.
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A black arrow shaft protruded from one of the goblins eyes. The other stared blankly ahead. Grabbik dropped the corpse and scrambled wildly away, drawing several bow shots in his noisy wake. Somewhere to the side, another goblin tried to run and was cut down with brutal efficiency. "There remain no more than four of you" said a deep voice in goblin tongue, but with the unmistakable accent of an elf."Perhaps three. Do you wish to come out and fight me fairly?" "Me?" Grabbik quietly echoed, confused. "Only one elf?"
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Grabbik peeked his head out from the ferns to see a dark elf standing in the open, his bow leaning against a tree several meters away. Grabbik looked down to his crude spear and wondered if he could make the throw. Apparently another goblin entertained similar thoughts, for a goblin leaped the ferns and threw his spear. The dark elf easily ducked under the high throw an exploded into action. Faster than Grabbik could follow, the drow fell to his knees. The drow picked up his bow and fired two shots. The first arrow burrowed into the goblins' chest and into his heart, instantly killing him. The second arrow hit the exact same spot as the first, splitting the first arrow in half.
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Grabbik looked to his spear again, glad he was shown his folly. By his count only two remained - two against one if they could get close to the drow warrior. "Grabbik!" he heard a call, and recognized the voice to be Drelkin, a fine fighter. "How many of usses?"
"Two!" he answered, then he called out to the drow. "Two of usses, elf! Will you puts down your nasty bow and fights usses fair?" The drow laid down his bow. "Come on then," he said. "Yous is ready, Drelkin?" Grabbik cried. "Ready!" Drelkin called eagerly. Grabbik licked his dirty lips and set his floppy feet feet for a good start.
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He'd send Drelkin into action against the dark elf, and use the diversion to flee into the forest. "Ready?" He asked again. "Ready!" Drelkin assured him. "Charge!" Grabbik cried, and he heard Drelkin burst from the ferns to his right. Grabbik also leaped up, but ran far to the left, away from the elf. He looked back, thinking himself clever, but saw Drelkin similarly running to the right. The drow, with an amused smile, took up the chase. Grabbik heard a cry of agony far behind him, and turned to see Drelkin cleaved in half by the drow's slender red blade. Glad that the dark elf hadn't come for him first, he ran faster.
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Suddenly a sharp pain in his ankle caused him to crash into the mud, and he looked down to see a black arrow shaft protruding from his leg. Then the drow was upon him. His red eyes stared into Grabbik's soul, his fine black mail mocking Grabbik's dusty leather tunic. The drow's red cape and long white hair blew in the breeze. "Who is yous?" Grabbik asked. "My name is Vallyn. It shall be the last you ever hear." Suddenly the drow's blade was out of its scabbard and into the goblins' heart. Did you have to do this? Goblin blood is among the worst things I have tasted, said Vallyn's sentient sword. "Maybe next should kill a tribe of hillgiants," came Vallyn's reply. Maybe I should destroy you and find a new wielder, the sword said. "If only you could," laughed Vallyn.
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Alik blinked and slowly rose from the cold stone floor to see the faces of Hectatimus and an adolescent farm boy. "So they caught you too, Hectatimus?" He nodded in response. "Luckily for us," continued Alik, "I've already thought of an escape plan." "And what would that be?" "Well, remember the time we were imprisoned by the Archmage of Angermeier?" asked Alik of Hectatimus. The latter laughed and replied, "you had your magic lock pick then." Alik made a flicking motion with his wrist and produced a silver rod about six inches in length. Hectatimus gaped. "I thought you gave it to..." "Well, I didn't. Now we just have to wait for an overcast night to escape in complete darkness." Yohan spoke for the first time since Alik woke up. "I was talking to the villagers and a storm looks like it's on it's way, and will be here an hour or two after dusk." "Perfect, we'll just have to wait until tonight," said Alik.
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Gooooood Bless Deamericaaaaaa. THREAD THAT I LoOOOOOoooOOOoOve!
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I can't believe I wasted 10 minutes reading this
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Well that escalated quickly
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Then a agitated guard shot a lead-dipped arrow, seakong vengence on the man who slew his brother Rhaegar. A fellow prisoner, Bareeth, a kindly man with a friendly approach tomlofe, dived in front of the shot momenta before it landed. Friends and enemies alike stood shocked at Bareeths corpse, and soon, the guard joined him.
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