944: Fire Emblem: ReAwaken – Chapter Four, Part TwoPosted: January 24, 2015
[Hijacked by editor Book Specs. -Book Specs]
[Wait, what? -SC]
*The door to the riffing room is bumped open by Specs and SC’s backs as they drag a resistant Contacts by his ankles*
Get! Your ass! IN HERE!
Contacts: No! I don’t wanna deal with Kale! You can’t make me!
Specs: I’m… fairly… certain that we- *huff* -ARE!
Contacts: Isn’t Salem enough shit for me to deal with?!
You agreed that you’d help out with this riff too, now stop being a whiny little bitch and GET THE FUCK IN HERE!
*With one final heave, Specs and SC throw Contacts into his seat; gold coins spill out of his pockets from the impact*
Oh, so THAT’S why your ass was so god damn heavy!
Specs: Man, I did NOT need that bad of a workout, you asshole.
Contacts: Fuck both you shitlords! If I have to suffer, you’re going to suffer with me!
Yeah yeah, save it for the birds.
*SC and Specs take their seats*
*Whew!* Sorry about that, folks. After Specs and Contacts got back from their little adventure, Contacts tried to hide from his riffing obligations under a pile of loot. For such a scrawny little wimp, I did NOT expect him to put up such a fuss. It took Specs beaning him over the head with his sword just to get him to quit Dark Stepping all over the place, and then the ankle-dragging happened while he was unconscious. Then he woke up and started trying to grab tables and shit.
Anyhow, hello, and welcome back to Fire Emblem: ReAwaken, by MaesterDimentio! I’m your host, SC, and last time, Kale came up with an ass-backwards strategy to attack a fort full of bandits that Taco and I briefly debated in the comments section, but then decided that he suddenly had asthma with specific triggers that should have killed him several times previously for the sake of showing what a putz of a healer Krysta and advancing the hideously obvious romance plot between him and Myra, whose father happened to have asthma himself. Kale then tried to be a badass and fight in spite of it, and promptly conked out when the expected result happened.
Contacts: Wait, isn’t he a Myrmidon?
Contacts: And he has asthma.
Yep. I mentioned that it could possibly be a cool character twist – except for how Kale did it.
Contacts: You know, I don’t think I fought you hard enough.
Specs: Yes the hell you did.
Anyhow, we now join Kale in:
Specs: That is a kooky music video.
That’s the song’s point, buddy.
Is this… Heaven?
No, this is th Library, which many have compared to Gehenna.
“But, SC! What’s Gehenna?”
Ever played that game Skull Girls? Well, there’s a stage in that game that pretty well sums up what Gehenna is.
Did you get the idea? Gehenna is another way of saying Hell.
[He totally did that just so that he could use that video in a riff and creep everybody out. -Book Specs]
Looking around my current surroundings, it’s the only place that I can think of, though I thought it’d be more… filled.
Oh, so you’ve actually landed in the Void, then!
I’m simple floating in the middle of an empty white space.
Contacts: I thought the Void was more grey-ish?
The Void is [color].
[I don’t remember asking for that bit to be edited out. -SC]
[NOBODY MUST EVER KNOW. -Book Specs]
“Hello?” I call out, only for my voice to echo out indefinitely before fading away.
First of all: Infinitely. Second, if it faded, it wasn’t infinite. It just took a while.
“Well… that’s depressing…” I murmur as I lay down on my back, letting out weary sigh.
Or rather, he tried to lay down and just kind of kept spinning after that.
Contacts: *Kale* “Heeeeeeeeelp-BRUAGHLBKJFQWJKEGHHKRWHGLLKLTGJERGHLKWGFLRK!!!”
Specs: Ironically enough, barfing only served to increase the rotational momentum, which only served to make the barfing worse, all in a vicious cycle until Kale died.
Don’t I wish…
I raise my eyebrows as I look around my current abode, taking it all in. “You know, if this is Heaven, then God could really use some tips on design. Not that I’m questioning the Almighty, it’s just that-”
*God* “Listen, bitch, if you’re so smart, let’s see YOU craft an entire universe in seven days, hmm?”
I suddenly sit up as the voice rings out from nowhere,
Throwing himself in another infinite spiral in the opposite direction.
not realizing that I’m practically in a Zero-G environment. After I manage to stop myself from spinning around, and holding my lunch in, I look around for the source of the voice.
HOLY SHIT I WAS RIGHT!
“Hey, who said that? How am I meddling?” I shout, expecting a reply. “Answer me, will you!?” I shout again as there’s nothing but silence. I’m about to shout again when I realize it’ll be fruitless; if it didn’t respond the first time.
Specs: Well, I wouldn’t respond to you either if you were being rude like that!
Contacts: Really, have some decency.
“Fine, don’t answer, but at least have the decency to-”
“-send me back!” I shout. I hear someone next to me jump and as I open my eyes, I’m surprised to see Myra, of all people, sitting next to me.
Aight, wish granted sparky.
Oh, and right next to your favorite person and painfully obvious spiteful romantic tension buddy, too! You’re just a fount of good fortune, aren’t you, Kale?
I sit up slightly, rubbing my eyes. “Sorry if I spooked you. Had a bit of a nightmare. Anyway, how long have I been out?” I quickly ask, trying to keep her from asking me what I was shouting about. Thanks, mysterious asshole…
*God* “Fuck you say?!”
“Uh, less than an hour.” she replies, pointing up to the sky. Looking up, I’m relieved to see that the sun’s still at about noonish. Thank God… and Naga! I’m just glad I didn’t cause us too lose too much time.
Specs: I imagine one of them would’ve hit you with a water bucket after a while. My old captain made it habitual with me until I started waking up early on my own.
Contacts: Same. The Shadowstriders didn’t abide any laziness when they were teaching me their ways.
“So, I guess I’ll go tell Marco that you’re awake, alright?” She slowly stands up and brushes the dirt from her cloak.
Given that I speculated about Myra being a Dark Mage, and I once compared female Dark Mages to ancient Egyptian strippers, I imagine that the author wrote her brushing herself off slowly to try and evoke some provocative imagery.
Just letting you know now, bro: It didn’t work.
[Contacts and Specs’ immature minds explode in 3… 2… 1… -Book Specs]
Contacts: Yeah, Specs walked in on Shades half-naked once, and I’ve been subjected to accidental motorboating when Glasses fell off a ledge and landed boobs-first on my face during one of my goofier jobs. I doubt anything can impress either of us anymore.
Specs: By the way, don’t let Shades know I mentioned it because I don’t want to get shot, but she must wear ENORMOUS turtlenecks if she can make a D-cup look like a barrel chest.
You guys! This is a riff, not a sex talk show! God damn, remind me never to bring up strippers again…
“Don’t bother.” I mutter, rising to my own feet. “We’ve wasted enough time over me. If Marco finds out I’m awake, he’ll probably try and make us wait longer. Those people are more important than me, alright?” I snap as she starts to raise an objection, my heart sinking slightly as she winces at my words. Great, once again, I act like a jackass to her… How is it that even in another world, my skill at dealing with the opposite sex is still at -100?
That’s a pretty shitty Charisma stat, yo.
Contacts: If he ever has to charm a dragon into not eating him, he’s fucking history.
“Sorry, I just want to help those people out, alright?”
Specs: No shit, Sherlock. We gathered that without you telling us again.
So, I hear that Vesperia riff pissed you off?
Specs: If I ever meet Tai in person, I’m gonna wring his fucking neck.
“I understand. So do I.
SC #1: Me too!
SC #2: Totes, brah.
SC #3: I heartily concur!
SC #4: Quite!
Specs: Dude, what the fuck is happening right now.
Contacts: If we inch our way to the door, they might not notice we’re missing.
I’ll go let Marco that you’re ready to go. He’ll probably say no, but…” She shrugs slightly. “It’s not like he can say no if you’re this dead-set on it. You’ll just ignore him anyway, I’m sure.”
Like every other Stu in existence, right?
“You know me too well.” I say with a smile. As she turns to leave, I stop her. “Hey, Myra, wait. I… I heard about you’re father and how he had something like I had, and, well…”
“I’m just glad to know that you were actually a bit worried about me.” I say, thinking back to how I’d heard her crying during my asthma attack.
She turns to face me, an annoyed look in her eyes. “I wasn’t worried about you, alright? Seeing someone with the same problems as my father just brought back a few painful memories. The only thing I was worried about was you dying before I got my revenge on you.” she says with a smirk, though I can see a hint of something else in her eyes. “Don’t think you’re out of the fire yet, pervert.” With that, she walks away to where Marco, Garrett, and Krysta are sitting a few yards away.
Oh, hello there, little miss Tsundere.
Contacts: The only way she could be more obvious is if she were wearing Bifocals’ clothing.
Specs: Bifocals is Tsundere? She seems too nice for that.
She’s a friendlier sort of Tsundere, but the hallmarks are still there. Try mentioning that she has a crush on you when she’s in the room and see if you don’t get yelled at in a feeble attempt to disprove your claims.
Specs: Oh come on, Bifocals and I are just good friends, and she’s a bit shy about it. There’s no crush going on, what are you talking about?
Contacts: …How is it possible for you to be so fucking clueless?
[I dunno, magic? -Book Specs]
I chuckle slightly as I pick up my scabbard, which had been placed on the ground next to me.
Specs: You wouldn’t put it somewhere where the blade wouldn’t risk getting all filthy or scratched up? Do you care at ALL about weapon maintenance?
It’s in a scabbard, how dirty could it get?
Specs: You might be surprised at how easily a sword can slip out of its case even when tightly secured. On many swords, the weight goes towards the hilt rather than the blade, so if you don’t have your sword properly secured, the blade will slip out. My old captain was forever buffing scratches out of the flat of the blade because its sheathe wasn’t snug-fitting. It’s why I don’t ever carry my sword with the hilt facing the ground – even though it IS snug-fitting, its sheathe is fur-lined on the inside, so the blade has like no friction to catch it unless I secure it up to the crossguard. Which, when I need to fight, I like to keep the blade somewhat loose so that I can draw it quickly.
Why would you fur-line a sheathe?
Specs: So that you can keep the blade oiled without having to constantly rag-wipe it. Fur is liquid-absorbent, and oil is a liquid, you see.
Specs: And in my mind, laying a blade on the ground in a sheathe may as well be as bad as laying the bare blade on the ground. Maybe I’m just paranoid, but that’s how I feel. I spent too many years as a blacksmith’s apprentice to not be a bit more tender with a sword than I perhaps have any reason to be.
Contacts: I would think being a smithy would make you LESS worried about a blade’s integrity.
Specs: Ah, no. Blacksmithing is a VERY precise art, and any small flaw can completely ruin whatever you’re trying to make. It’ll drive you mad over quality control.
Hence why Specs is currently going nuts over a sheathed sword being on the ground.
Specs: And I will continue to do so, even if my fears are proven to be groundless.
Contacts: …Wait, wasn’t this about a scabbard?
They’re the same damn thing, nimrod!
“Even when she’s conspiring to harm me, she’s still cute.” I mutter to myself. “Too bad she’d probably set fire to me if I told her that.” Could be worth it though… “Nah, I’ll keep my skin non-charred for now.”
Contacts: One of my old thieving buddies once tried hitting on an adorable fire mage that was hanging out at a bar we were at after a job.
Specs: How’d that go?
Contacts: I found him in the hospital a few days later, covered in bandages and barely alive. He told me it was worth it.
Contacts: A few days later, the doctors told me that the magic fire had kept burning after the actual flames had gone out, and he had been reduced to ashes. I met that fire mage at his funeral, and what she essentially told me was that the guy couldn’t handle the heat.
A regular comedian, that lady was.
Contacts: Oh, you have no idea. Half the guys at his funeral were drunk, and when she said that, they all laughed so hard that half of them left with some pretty bad sour-gut.
Could’ve done without hearing that last part…
“Kale! What do you think you’re doing?” I hear Marco ask me. Standing up, I look to see the warrior- wow, he looks mad. Can fire explode out of peoples heads in this world like in an anime? That could be… interesting to watch, actually.
Contacts: I could supply the explosive force for you.
Put the bomb arrows away, Link.
“-to finish what I’ve started.” I say, drawing my sword and holding it up to my face.
Specs: Did he just rip off that scene from Mulan?
You mean the part where she’s all cool with her dad’s sword?
Specs: Yeah! Damn it, that was my favorite part!
Contacts: My condolences.
“Yeah, we told those people we’d help just so we’d get a place to rest for the night but that doesn’t mean we aren’t still supposed to help.
Contacts: Well, y’all could pretend like you’re dead so that the bandits are all, “They fucked up” when they attack the villagers again. That way you get free lodging, AND a hero’s sacrifice, and you didn’t even bite the big one!
You are a vile person.
Specs: I probably oughta stab you… but it would get blood all over my new Swurd.
Contacts: You mean that crazy bionic son of a bitch that used to be in one of Lyle’s badfics that you stole and had everybody work on to make not suck?
Specs: Yeah. It’s so shiny and polished, I kinda don’t want to get it dirty. But I should probably still stab you.
Contacts: I mean, take your pick, you’ve got a few thousand swords to choose from.
Specs: Actually, that might be a few million.
Contacts: I should be surprised, but I’m not.
The longer we stand around, twiddling our thumbs, the better chances we have of losing those people.
Specs: If your end goal is to rescue them, shouldn’t that be “the WORSE chances we have?”
I don’t want innocent people to die just because of me, alright? I feel fine enough to stand and fight, so let’s get going.”
Specs: Back in my old crew, just being good enough to stand was enough for the captain to chuck you back into the fight, even if you had fatal wounds that your body hadn’t registered yet.
I guess that comes with the territory when you’re the hardest of asses.
Specs: she’d have laughed hers off to hear you say that.
Wait, your old captain was a girl?
Specs: Disguised as a guy, but yes. When I was made the tactician of the company, she confided such to me. The reason she got away with her man act for so long is primarily to do with how she dressed, but also because her voice was deep enough and cracked frequently enough to fool most people into thinking she was a guy with a raspy voice. I don’t know if she was ever found out, because I had retired, and was killed long before word of the company’s new whereabouts ever reached me in any fashion.
“I said, let’s. Get. Going.”
Exaggerated. Pauses. Don’t. Make. You. Sound. Tough. Stop it.
I slowly say as I sheathe my blade
Specs: Why the fuck did you unsheathe it if you were just going to put it back again?!
Maybe he’s as paranoid as you about blade maintenance and wanted to make sure it wasn’t damaged?
Specs: Oh. Okay, then.
and start walking down towards the fort. “You and Myra get going to the forest. Garrett and I will go ahead and start our attack.”
Speaking of which, you should read back what Kale’s “brilliant” plan was.
*Specs and Contacts read the previous riff*
Specs: Oh, for the love of Christ…
Contacts: Wow, if this guy were a student of the Shadowstriders, they’d whoop his ass for being so stupid.
What about The Master?
Contacts: The Master would probably dump him on his ass like he did to me.
I pause momentarily before I continue walking. “Try not to die, alright? That goes for Myra, too. I can honestly say you two are the first friends I’ve made in a long time, so I don’t want to have to bury you two, got it?”
That… was actually kind of heartfelt.
Of course, it’d be a lot more so if he hadn’t basically signed the two of them over to their own deaths with his batshit strategy.
Specs: See, whenever my old captain said anything like that, she usually did so as a preemptive final send-off for anybody who fell in battle because she gave a shit about her people. And, you know, because she and I put some thought into our strategies. Hearing it from Kale is nice, but doesn’t evoke any warm fuzziness for me.
He grunts slightly before walking off and soon I hear Garrett and Krysta running up behind me. “You two, are you ready?”
Garrett chuckles darkly. “If by ready, you mean ready to get my ass handed to me, then hell yeah… You honestly think we’re gonna survive this? I mean, I know there are at least fifty guys there at the moment. It’s a pretty small band, but still.”
One of the big confusions from the previous riff for mine and Taco’s two strategies was how many guys were in the fort. We now have a solid “at least fifty,” with still room for more, so I wonder how this would alter things, if at all?
And kudos to Garrett for voicing the same level of “you’re fucked” that Taco and I both expressed last time.
“If we die, we die and if we live, we live. That’s the way the world works.” I say flatly.
Contacts: Whoa, slow up on the Shadowstrider-isms, yo.
Were they really that blunt?
Contacts: To quote one guy: “So long as two people exist in the world, age regardless, one wishes death upon the other. This is inevitable.”
Holy shit, those guys were pessimists.
Contacts: They were paranoid of anything that moved, including their own ranks. You would be dead of old age before you ever saw one who didn’t have his hand on his sword. The only reason they didn’t outright destroy each other was because they analyzed the hell out of each other on a regular basis to confirm that it would be a colossal waste of time to try because nobody would come out of it alive.
Specs: Shit, at least my old captain could pretend to trust the people she commanded.
Uh… I just quoted the AxeMan…
AxeMan is the worst Megaman boss.
the first guy I… killed… And I’m about to be killing more people… I can feel my stomach starting to turn over slightly, though I shake my head to rid it of these thoughts. “No time for killer’s remorse. Fight now, feel bad later.” I mutter under my breath, making sure neither of them can hear me.
Specs: Or, you know, how about rationalize it? They’re bandits. Even if they joined up because there weren’t many other options, they still voted to do harm and steal from other innocent people, who may be in similar positions themselves, rather than maybe try and find another solution. They’ve decided that criminal activity is the only way to get by in the world, and to that end, the suffering of others is meaningless. In my mind, that takes away any reason to feel bad for them.
Contacts: What if it’s literally their only option because life was a total bitch to them?
Specs: You can usually tell when that’s the case. The guys like that always have some look of disgust about what they’re doing. At least, in my experience, they do.
Krysta picks up her pace slightly and falls into step beside me. “Okay, so while you and Garrett are fighting, what should I be doing?” Right, she’s never been in battle before.
Probably because CLERICS CAN’T FIGHT.
[Oi. -Book Specs]
“Just stay out of the way, alright? If possible, stay behind both of us. We’ll keep the bandits off of you and you just patch us up if we suddenly get a gaping wound in us, alright?”
Oh, if only it were that easy in the game…
Specs: “Oh, you’re hiding your cleric behind a wall of bodies? That’s cool, I’ma just arc this arrow over your heads, m’kay?”
She gives me a quick, determined nod before falling back slightly behind me. There’s a nervous air around the three of us as we approach the front gate of- wait, we’re here already? I-I thought it was a lot further away… Guess time flies when you’re prepping for battle.
Specs: Yeah, the minutes tend to fly when you’re stressing about how bad the fight’s gonna go. I’ve been caught off-guard more than a few times because I was off in my head trying to figure out if I nailed down all the loose ends in my strategy.
Stepping out in front of the two of them, I cup my hands to my mouth. “Hey, assorted assholes and bastards!
Specs: You did not.
If any of you are smart enough to hear me, get your sorry selves down here and face the judgement that you- What’s in my foot?” I look down as I feel a sharp pain in my right foot. There’s an arrow there… in my foot… MY FOOT!
Specs: WAY THE FUCK TO GO, SHITLORD! WOW, LOOK HOW GOOD YOUR PLAN IS WORKING, YOU HAVEN’T EVEN BREACHED THE MOTHERFUCKING GATES AND YOU’RE ALREADY INJURED! YOU STUPID FUCK, YOU DESERVED EVERY SINGLE OUNCE OF PAIN FROM THAT! I HOPE LIKE A HUNDRED MORE PEPPER YOUR SORRY ASS!
Contacts: He’s actually pissed, isn’t he?
I’m thinking he might be.
Specs: Amazing, isn’t it?! It’s like the bandits were on the ball because they were getting ready for a raid! It’s like Kale’s whole fucking stupid plan hinged on the element of surprise, which he JUST FUCKING BLEW RIGHT OUT OF THE MOTHERFUCKING WATER BECAUSE HE’S A STUPID BAG OF SHIT THAT I NEED TO STRANGLE UNTIL HE STOP BREATHING-
*Book Specs’ staff inexplicably flies into the room and slams into the back of Specs’ head*
Specs: Ow! Where’d that come from?
Feel better now?
Specs: Fucking no. That was the single most asinine move Kale could have possibly made in the process of launching his attack. He blew his entire team’s cover before it was supposed to happen, and now those bandits are gonna be charging them en masse because he had the nerve to draw attention to them. Whatever element of surprise he might have had is now gone in a puff of smoke, and to top it all off, rather than draw first blood on any of the bandits to get the killing spree rolling for his team, he’s the first blood in the water, so those bandits know he’s the weakest right now, and they’ll be trying to pick him off before the cleric can get to him and deal with the wound, and an arrow can travel faster than a person can, so it doesn’t even matter right now that Kayla’s right behind him. If he had ever done something like that in my old company, we would have left his stupid ass to get skewered by the rest of the arrows while we charged the fort. But I don’t want to get hit again, so I’m not gonna scream about it anymore.
[Specs is a liar in the next few paragraphs. -Book Specs]
[Hey! Quit making editor notes in my riff! -SC]
Contacts: Well, now I know that Specs does, indeed, have a berserk button.
I might need to end this riff sometime soon before the situation gets worse.
“Shit! My foot!” I yell as I grab it, jumping around like an idiot.
Nevermind, Kale just made the situation worse.
*An audible and very pissed-off growl is emitted by Specs*
Out of the corner of my eye, I swear as I see my two partners standing around, Krysta looking slightly confused and Garrett… trying to keep himself from laughing his ass off, from the looks of it. Thanks, Garrett. I’ll make sure to leave as many of the bandits to you. Still hopping around, I whirl around on our healer. “Krysta, this counts as one of those times where we have a gaping wound!”
Specs: No, I’m sorry, you don’t get to bitch at the healer. You don’t. You’re the fuck-up, not her. By rights, she should have smacked you one upside the head for your bullshit.
“But there’s not much blood and there’s no hole.”
I stop jumping around in pain long enough to give her the most confused look I can currently muster. Krysta… just… why?
Contacts: Is it weird that I can’t find it in me to be pissed at her right now?
Sitting down on the ground, I place both hands around the shaft of the arrow and pull it out, tears stinging my eyes as I did so.
Now, that is NOT the proper way to remove an arrow.
Contacts: Especially not considering that those bandits are probably using broadheads, and those things are like gigantic hooks once they go through your foot in one direction, meaning Kale just probably ripped out some of his bones and tore open an artery or two.
Specs: Good, let’s hope he dies.
…Wow, you are really mad right now.
Specs: Was it that obvious.
“Krysta. Blood. Hole. Foot. Fix this!” I say to her, motioning at my now bleeding foot.
Specs: Let the bitch rot, Kayla.
I let out a sigh as she places the staff near my foot. There’s immediately a- very, very painful sensation burning in my foot! “Son of a- Krysta, what’d you do? I asked for healing, not making my foot prefer impalement!”
Specs: I hereby absolve Krysta of any bad thoughts we may have had about her previously, because at least she’s a doofus that isn’t a whiny bitch who blows strategies at the first excuse.
I can agree with that.
Contacts: Sounds good to me.
“Quit your whining!” Garrett shouts as he lowers his axe in front of him. “She’s having to fix bone, muscle, and flesh. Stitching that all together isn’t gonna feel nice, now is it?” …point, Garrett. “It’s your own damned fault for calling them out like that, now isn’t it? Be glad our archers can’t aim for their lives, otherwise, we’d all be pincushions!”
Contacts: I dunno, that one guy had a pretty good eagle eye on him.
“So it was LUCK that caused that guy to shoot me in the foot?!” I scream as Krysta’s healing finishes.
*Specs’ eye twitches, and he lets out a angry grunt*
Uh oh. You’d better duck, man.
Contacts: Under the desk we go!
[Hide yo kids, hide yo wives. -Book Specs]
[What did I say about editor’s notes?! -SC]
Specs: YOU SHOULD BE FUCKING GLAD THAT YOUR FOOT WAS ALL THAT GOT SHOT, YOU INSUFFERABLE BAG OF LIMP DICKS! YOU GOT OFF BETTER THAN YOUR RIGHTLY FUCKING DESERVED TO!
*Specs stands up, draws his Kewl Sward, and rips his glasses off and throws them to the floor; immediately, his eyes start glowing, and his now drawn Kewl Sward turns an ominous greenish hue*
Booky holy shit stop him before he goes Norman Bates on the screen!
Uber Mode!Specs: EAT SHIT AND DIE, MOTHERFU-
*Specs’ body slumps to the floor; Book Specs, standing behind him, procures duct tape from his book satchel and tapes the broken head of his staff back in place*
Thank GOD you showed up so fast, man. I don’t want to think about what might have happened if he had gotten a good shot in.
I should probably let the readers know that I’m not the only one who can become a monster when the glasses come off; the whole Specs and Co. are like this, too. In some respects, they might even be worse. In Specs’ case, when he takes his glasses off, his reflexes hone to the point where time slows down, and his sword magically sharpens to an atomic degree. Oh yeah, and he gets all of his smarts back for the duration of the time he’s in that mode. Hence, Uber Mode.
Contacts: Thank fuck Specs’ super-intelligence didn’t have a chance to kick in before Booky got to him, else we’d have been really screwed.
*Specs groggily stumbles to his feet*
Hey there, champ. Maybe don’t headbang so hard next time, huh?
Specs: I was headbanging? But my neck doesn’t even feel sore…
Contacts: Oh trust me, bro, you were headbanging like crazy.
Surprisingly, my foot feels as good as new; no pain or anything. Before Garrett can respond, the gates of the fort open up and a wave of humanity charges out at us. By a wave, I mean about fifteen guys waving around axes and shouting like drunken morons. Then again, they may actually be drunken morons.
Specs: Yeah, bandits do have a tendency to- wait a minute, they’re drunk before a raid? A raid that they’ve been actively preparing for?! OH, NOW I REMEMBER! I WASN’T HEADBANGING AT ALL!
Fuck. Kale, you couldn’t have given us like five minutes’ respite?
[I’m amazed you even got the thirty seconds that you did, with such a pathetic cover-up. -Book Specs]
[I’m gonna revoke your editing privileges in a second. -SC]
Never mind, one of them has good enough aim with an axe to throw it directly between my feet.
Contacts: I guess they’re just buzzed, then.
I draw my blade and run side-by-side with Garrett as we meet them head-on. Remember, remorse later, killing now! I run this thought through my mind numerous times as the battle ensues.
And this fight scene is gonna have to wait for next time, because I don’t want Specs to have another meltdown.
Thanks for reading, folks, and stay tuned for next time, where Kale’s strategy – now shot to hell on his end – goes into play, with some probably predictable results! And rejoice, for you’ve withstood another week of Kale’s motherfucking formatting! I probably won’t be finishing this chapter in just three parts, since MaesterDimentio is like me and writes long chapters, but we’ll worry about that at another time. In the meantime, I’m SC, and on behalf of Specs and Contacts, I’ll see you later!
…So, the riff’s over now, Specs.
…You can stop shaking with rage now.
*Contacts slowly reaches over to poke Specs*
*In one fluid motion, Specs rips his Kewl Sward out of his sheathe and cleanly decapitates Contacts*
Specs: A little bit, yeah.
[He got blood on my staff, by the way. -Book Specs]
[Alright, that’s it! Come here, you little bastard! -SC]
[Viva la Book Specs! -Book Specs]