Better luck next time, irony

Okay, so maybe backup isn’t such a bad idea.  That was big ol’ pain in the ass.

So I climbed down the mountain a ways and watched the gnoll camp for more signs of Skarr.  At this point he was pretty visible, so I climbed down a little more, jumped off from a ledge, and then pulled one of my favorite moves EVAR – the cannonball mid-air falling CHARGE!  Jump, falling, whoosh, WHAM right up in your face, and stunned to boot (probably in more ways than one)!  Only pro warriors need apply.

And so, I don’t know why this would surprise me, but turns out, yeah, Skarr is about as batshit crazy as all the other Twilight people we’ve come across.  As in, FUCKING COMPLETELY.  The whole time I was fighting him he kept ranting and raving, and referring to himself in the third person – “Skarr” this, “Skarr” that – and so yeah, that settled the question of whether this was the right ogre, in case there ever was one.  (And okay, let’s be fair, I guess it’s POSSIBLE he might not have been, and hoo boy, if it turned out he wasn’t, and I had charged and slammed him anyway, would my face have been red.)  (No, wait, it wouldn’t.  EXCEPT FROM THE BLOOD.)  Anyway, he kept yammering on while we got to fighting, word salad half the time.  We hacked away at each other, and he was hanging in there but really not posing much of a threat, when who should show up but the damn giant chimaera again.  Swooped on in and starting breathing this freakish blue fire at me.  Which really only sort of tickled a little, but it was annoying as hell.

Thing is, though, even that didn’t last too long.  Because, you see, as it happens, Skarr wasn’t the only one with friends flying around the area, and, well, let me just put it this way:

Wyvern > Chimaera.

(Seriously, you should have seen Mortimer go to town on that thing.  As a matter of fact, remind me to go into more detail about it later.  You’ll thank me.)

So, it was back to me and Skarr, which being as it was a one-on-one fight now, really kind of left the fucking ogre outnumbered basically.  I had him backed up to one of the ratty tents and was pretty obviously wearing him down, and at that point it was just a question of how to beat him without actually killing him, when all of a sudden I started feeling kind of weak in the legs.  I stumbled a little, got my balance back, then went back to swinging at him…only my arms were feeling weaker now too.  I damn near missed a parry on that huge fucking axe of his – and I NEVER have close calls like that.  A couple more inches and he would have gotten my head.  As I was pushing his axe back again – taking more effort that I should have needed, mind you – it hit me: the blade was poisoned.  He hadn’t gotten a good hit on me the whole fight, but there had been a few glancing blows, just minor cuts really…but that would have been enough for the poison to take hold.

I took a second to reset my footing again, and you could tell he’d noticed I was off my game now, and he started pressing back more, and pushing me toward the hillside.  I was still holding my own at this point, but it was taking more and more effort, and I could feel the poison kicking in and weakening me more.  And I have to admit, as much as I know you have to stay focused in combat, I couldn’t help thinking how familiar it was.

So this is what it’s like to be on the other end of it.

Maybe I’ve had this coming.  Maybe this is what balances the scales.

And right when I’m about ready to come out on the losing end of this one, cause of death: poetic justice, Skarr suddenly seizes up, locked in place with his head jerking up, then a second later splats down onto the ground unconscious, with Garona standing there behind him looking all proud of herself.  Rogues and their sap-stun-kidney-shot-gouge-cheap-shot bullshit.  Well, hey, I fucking wore him down for her first, so, you know.

We’ve just finished carrying him back to Stonemaul Hold.  (And thank the spirits for that camel – that ogre was one HEAVY motherfucker.)  We’ve got him detained in the main cave there, and we’ll be questioning him as soon as he comes to, and the camp apothecary hooks me up with a poultice to take care of the damn poison.  Based on the word salad he was spouting out before, this should be interesting.

About these ads

2 Responses to “Better luck next time, irony”

  1. Charles Jenkins Says:

    Dear Warchief:
    Reference my last epic verse.

    The end.

    Your welcome.

    Your humble / completely satisfied that I’m right servant , CJ

    • Wait, wait, hold on a second.

      The hell?

      You know, to the outside observer, I still had that fight pretty well under control, so from Garona’s vantage point she was pretty much stealthing and and kill-stealing. (Which SHE HAS A HISTORY OF DOING in Twilight Highlands, I’m told.) And that’s proof of what? Kill-stealing is a show of romance?

      In that case, what would it be if she undercut me at the auction house, a marriage proposal?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,034 other followers

%d bloggers like this: