Death of The Moon
Chapter 1 – The Loot
"So Hollow," Rage said, peering over Hollow's shoulder, "Are we nearly there yet?"
Hollow, with a sigh, replied, "No we are not "Nearly there yet", Josh, we've been on the wagon for 30 minutes."
For 3 minutes Rage said squat until, finally, he repeated, "Are we nearly there yet?"
Hollow turned around getting ready to slap Rage, while shouting "Shut. The fuck. Up, Josh. Blighttown is 3 god damn hours away. If you don't stop whining, I will make you walk."
Rage grumbled inaudibly, "What god?"
"Oh for fuck's sake, can you please let it go? It's a saying. Don't take it out of –"
"Look out!" Yelled Rage in a melodramatic tone.
"What...? There's nothing there, is there? If you can't for one second - Oh noooooo!" Shouted Hollow as the horse keeled over as by some magical force as he was knocked into oblivion.
"Hear me, mortals." Boomed a strange yet familiar voice once they had recovered, "Another age of dark is approaching. I have chosen you, Hollow of the SunPraisers to lead the force to stop it. It is also kind of convenient that this filthy casual is with you for he will also be useful cannon fodder."
"Hey!" Shouted Rage in protest.
"SILENCE!1!1!one" bellowed the voice in anger, "If you wish to live you will refer to me as Master Bootykins for all eternity."
"But I don't want tooo."
"Zap zap zap," the voice summoned three bolts of golden electricity down from the sky forcing Rage to dance in a primal fashion.
Hollow, who has been silent until now, spoke up, "Would you be so kind as to tell us your real name, Master Bootykins?"
"You need not call me master, Hollow. However you may refer to me as Solaire The Finally So Grossly Incandescent. I will now present you to the general of the army. Hold on to your butts." The voice announced but before anyone could argue told the magic words, "zapo zap zappity zappy zap!"
Falling flat on their faces, Rage and Hollow found themselves in a new environment contained in a courtyard open to the elements. The bright, brilliant sun shined dangerously low overhead. A tall man with a smiling face depicted on a yellow and orange star insignia drawn onto his chest in Sharpy marker pens. His modest but oddly shiny helmet could barely contain his ginger locks.
"Gubiak, is that you?" Hollow asked. Surprised but happy, "I thought the order died out when the first age of dark began."
"Aye, most of us did. Luckily I - … Why is that darkmoon filth here?" His helmet concealing his face but Hollow could tell that it would be twisted in disgust.
"I don't like it either but Solaire told me to bring him along."
"Fuck you guys, I like me."
"Well anyways I have kit for you to choose from." Gubiak picked up a small yellow bell from a silver platter and ringed it merrily. 4 sunburnt men wearing brilliant but sun-bleached orange suits came out carrying piles of clothes and weapons. "The first set: The sorcerer. Built for carry space and looking holy-like, carrying a shortsword and staff. I don't recommend it. You'll look like a wus and it's very squishy."
"That would be for me… look, we all know that magic is over-powered."
"Eugh. Filthy casual." Gubiak and Hollow said in unison.
With a sigh of contempt for Rage Gubiak announced the second class, "The second set: The swordsman. Lightly armoured with a lot of dexterity and mobility. Carries two rapiers built mainly for parrying and dodging. I definitely -"
"Yoink." Hollow interrupted snatching the kit with lightning speed.
"Well then. I'll show you to your rooms." Gubiak said, dismissing the men that were now staring at the sun with a strange lust.