Hail friends,
I make my rounds and accidentally hit a rune to one of my old hunting grounds... and one of my old failures. I enter the cave and with no one around, I turn to leave.
...but fate stops me at the door, grabs me by the balls, and throws me into the fire.Draid Steelheart, the Mith Quessir Yaaraer himself!
(The worst kind of Yaaraer!)
The blackrock mongering Yaaraer. The legendary recalling Yaaraer. He goes by many names. I call him Mr. Thirty-Six. (Some call him the man who eats juicy steaks marinated in my tears.)
...
(Or so I've been told.)
...
He recalls in, near the cave's opening......and he mines the spot clean and recalls again.
And this time, to the other side of the cave. Mr. Thirty-Six was busy today. He was in a routine. And he'd be busy for a while.
::excellent::
If I was going to do this, I had to do it right. No need for "Number Thirty-Seven" staining my good name. I do this right and my past failures are wiped clean.
The pressure was rising, my fingers were twitching, and the game was afoot!
No complicated pre-murder stealing ploy. No disarming, no bleeding, and no slow acting death strikes. Just cold blooded murder.
...but first, I needed some equipment for what I had in mind.
(I learn from my mistakes.)(I learn from my past triumphs.)
(And I sprinkle a little something extra for style points.)
::excellent::
Today it was all or nothing. Eternal glory or a bottom-less pit of shame and despair. A failure would reserve me a special place in the most embarassing circles of hell. A victory would ensure that my solid gold throne in the afterlife would be polished by very beautiful women daily.
Him or me! Me or him!
One thing was for certain... blood would be split this day.
I return the hunting grounds......and I wait.
He returns moments later... and I realize that through all my excitment, I've forgotten one important detail!
What if he wasn't carrying any blackrock at all??
...
I pop open his pack and find it filled with ore. I scan what I could... with nothing to be seen.
He recalls out and I wait.He recalls back with his pack completely empty.
*looking*
...
*looking*
...
*...and I spot something poking it's small head out from under a runebook!*
(!!!)He recalls again, I wait, and I prepare my poison.
(I live for these moments.)--and he recalls back and I throw everything I've learned and everything I've failed to do back in his face.
A deadly piosonous dagger, new skills in Tactics and Anatomy, 90% damage increase, 50% harm, 38% hit lower defense, and thirty-six violations of my ego, I throw it all back at my enemy.
The battle was swift, it was bloody, and he didn't even have time to let out a peep.
I look down at my blade and see blood. I look up again and he's already down.VICTORY! A VICTORY OF VICTORIES!
I search his body and take the rock that was promised to me so long ago.I scatter his remains to make sure there are no other nuggets of joy hiding in the cracks.
I take out a jar and collect what tears he has left. Maybe not enough for a juicy steak, but perhaps a nice herbal tea.
I take one last look my bloody mess, pat myself on the back, and take a bow.(I thank thee and goodnight!)
'Til next time!