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