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When confronted with superior enemy numbers, a heroic adventuring roque
quester has but one choice: with nervers of steel he'll firmly grip his
weapon, let loose a thunderous war cry, turn around and run out through
the door that the AI limitations keep the little guys from coming
through. And then hurl rocks from a safe distance. If cowardice had an
antonym, it would be Drake
The sharga relents under Drake's predatory gaze and flinches. Also he was hit in the face with a rock.
Two foes met today in an epic clash of chivalry and honor, and our hero stands victorious.
Time to carry on spreading the good word our Lord, Khull Khum. Oh wait,
that's right, we didn't convert in time and got sunk to the bottom of
the sea. Worst deity ever! And that includes both Shiva and Brahma!
Here's a fine young chap who may be receptive to the idea of killing
himself instead of fighting me in the name of Thera, the soul stealing
whore with the conversational skills of a half eaten ballsack
Seems this cantankerous little piston is intent on me being the one who
gets stabbed. As the guy getting stabbed, I have to say I take issue
with his stance
Having completed the successful "dropping moon winds crotch slashing
attack" he reverts to the more conventional attack of the dim, the
slobbery bear hug
Bit of an anti-climax, but I killed that last guy and then hit this guy
in the face once. He now appears to be trying to pull off a combat
movie that I, in my infinite heroicness, am unfamiliar with. Let's watch
Ah, it's the patented "drop all of your equipment at you feet, evacuate
your bowels and bury your face in your hands" attack. Around here we
call that doozy the Sissy Ostrich. Although it is a fairly simple
maneuver to pull off, it also has a very low success rate, as it does
weaken ones defense capabilities a little.
Maybe it's the years of menacing helpless animals with swords finally
taking their toll on me, but I just don't have it in me to crush this
little scamp in cold blood. I'll take your stuff of course, because I
have a reputation to maintain, but so long as you spend the remainder
of the game cowering in that doorway you and I shouldn't have any more
problems.
Granting mercy does make me feel all warm and tingly inside my ghost
body. Maybe this is how AxeHandle Jackson felt on days when he let
Elizabeth by with just a mild tongue lashing
Moving on. Another door, another sharga. But this guy seems larger
somehow, perhaps more important. There's something exciting going on
here, I can feel it. Perhaps I have finally met my intellectual match
here in the glorified anthill. Maybe that last little guy surrendering
signals a change in the sharga community, a new era of co-operation may
be at hand
I'll deploy my peace beacon and see how the sharga envoy reacts
Conversely, it could be argued that this is my home given that my
people inhabited it before yours. I believe precedence in this case
would favor me. Luckily, I am not a petty man, and I believe that the
Sharga and the...just me, I guess...until I find Elizabeth and begin
re-populating....can learn to live in peaceful coexistence. There is
more than enough space and juicy ant carcass to go around, I see no
need for us to continue fighting. Let's each take a stab from the peace
dagger and begin our lives anew. You first!
The peace process broke down and left me with no choice but to put away
the Dagger of Peace and brandish instead the Dagger of Sharga Murder,
which are very similar daggers just one is lower on the scroll than the
other. Oh well, what is this rectangular, book-esque item sitting on
top of this olt-timey bed-and-breakfast stand?
Who's that handsome devil? It's that crazy fucker from my mirror, how
did he find me here? And how has he gotten so strong! This will need
further investigation
Praise Stone-Jesus, it's a map! Now the random assortment of boxes will
become slightly less random and slightly more navigable. Excelsior!
Excelciorre? Excelsorie...
Sweet, not only can I use that finger for pointing dissapprovingly at
ugly harlots on the street, now I can also use it to indicate where I
am on the map. Looks like the center of this map is where all the cool
kids hung out. Man, this would be a lot easier to navigate right now if
I had been cool back then. Oh well, fuck those other kids, none of them
got a magical trip to safety in a strangers pants!
Enough reading, this isn't the library. That's one floor down, and
filled with rum and book ashes. Time to heroically storm the shit out
of those Chuddies and cleave them limb from limb in brutal, violent,
bloodthirsty combat. Or chuck rocks at them through the door, whichever
gets more (hopefully not dead or sharga) chicks
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