I don't own Starcraft.
I'm returning to the beginning of the situation, just so you can understand what was going on.
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I was walking home from school. Nothing unusual, I guess, except for the weight of my backpack as I went. It felt like wearing a tank on my back. Homework was plentiful, so I guessed I'd have no time to chat with my friends on the net. I sighed.
Passing behind the stone church, I gazed momentarily upon the cross, which stood atop the tall steeple. It was, at least to me, the loveliest sight as it graced the afternoon sky. It would be the last good thing I saw before giving up my recreation and slumber to homework and study.
"Sleep is for the weak." My mind recalled this memory of my brother.
As I turned my head from the cross to the path I would take to my house, I blinked. I fell, suddenly. Through the ground it seemed, but I didn't really know, as I feared to open my eyes from their blinked state. Once I hit the ground, I slowly reopened them.
Fate had taken my existence and flung it into the wind.
It was a jungle, vast and thick. Vines were strung about, trees stood as cage bars, and leaves existed that were bigger than people. A noise of a bird, or some such creature, called from the hidden branches of a faraway tree.
My first word of thought, "Dang."
My second thought was of what I should do with my backpack. It weighed me down, and it carried nothing particularly useful, so leaving it would be best, so that others would know I was there. But I didn't want to leave behind three things: my collection of LOTR books, my new testament, and my German dictionary, taking everything else out of my pack. Thus my school books remained in the foilage, and my valued would go with me.
But where could I go? Looking about, I saw no resemblance of a path. I recalled the old bit of advice, to stay where you are so that people can find you. That wouldn't work in this case, as no one would know where I was. It was frightening to think of, never going home again. So I didn't think of it.
I walked along. It was slow, as I had to constantly dodge vines, but I managed. The walk was not remarkable, just boring, unbelievably hot, and humid. I gasped to breathe in this insane environment. As I looked at the clouds, they revealed that there would be a downpour, sometime later that evening.
Then I suddenly came upon the most hideous of smells: death. It seemed to come from my right, so thus I turned. A clearing of the trees was ahead. I went toward it.
"...Dang..."
A valley opened at my feet as I found the clearing. It was filled with dead zerg and Protoss, strewn about as if fresh from battle. The decay in the bodies varied, as if battle had been held in that one spot for some time. At least the zerg bodies anyway; the older dead Protoss were likely already converted to dragoons.
I wandered into the valley, looking at the dead for no apparent reason. I peered at the sad, empty eyes of a High Templar, who had fallen surrounded by zerglings. I could imagine his last struggle, as he summoned his last psi storm, dying with his enemies in battle, the way the Protoss do.
Then I began to think. If the zerg had won the battle, why wasn't the ground covered in creep? And if the Protoss had won, how come they were not taking away the dead? Only one possible solution came to mind.
"Dang..."
The battle was still going on, this was just a pause in its duration. Immediately grabbing a severed zerg claw, I ran as fast as I could out of the clearing.
Too late. The sounds of charging zerg filled the air. My voice struggled not to add a scream into the noise. Those things were much faster than me, so I only got about one hundred feet in the opposite direction before they caught up. I had to defend myself.
But I couldn't fight. So I just swung that claw like mad, striking the eyes of a zergling. Fortunately, it was blinded, and few other zerg paid me attention, but just zoomed by. I was too busy trying to dodge hydralisks spines to see where they were going. One got me in the foot, and I fell. But for only a moment. I could stand a little pain if it meant I'd have a chance to live. For sure, a small chance, but better than nothing.
I ran wildly, trying to escape the evil roaches of Zerus. But they were everywhere, so I decided I had no choice but to try and climb a tree. Maybe it wasn't the best thing to do, but you try being surrounded by zerg and think clearly. I barely managed to swing onto one of the trees, climbing as high as possible to escape.
Pausing, I had enough time and height to see what the zerg were fighting for. A Protoss city, apparently, stood over the line of trees.
"So that's what's going on." I thought. "This is when the zerg are trying to take over Aiur."
Suddenly overhead, a flight of scouts began to pour ammo over the below zerg. Many carriers followed. It soon became an air fight, as the mutalisks arrived. Many zealots entered, destroying the zerg they came across as the Templars sent psi storms about them, skillfully missing the zealots they were protecting.
An ultralisk entered the scene, charging for the Protoss lines. It came under my tree, intending to destroy a Templar. It mowed down several zealots and a dragoon on its way.
Something inside me changed. It seemed I could not tolerate the death of that Templar, for some reason. I didn't want the zerg to win. So I, likely foolishly, jumped from my branch onto the back of the ultralisk, holding down the claw. It pierced the thick carapace at the neck of the beast, and it reared. I held on, forcing the claw lower and lower into the ultralisk's head. It struggled, but eventually let go of its life, and fell to the ground.
I pulled out the claw and ran out to find more zerg to destroy. Never before had I felt such bloodlust. Though I had no battle experience, I found myself almost expertly dodging blows and dealing death. It was interesting to kill zerg, even....fun. My claw had no rest.
Suddenly my fight ended. As I struck the death blow to a hydralisk, a zergling stabbed me through the back. I fell with a loud cry, first to my knees, then to the jungle ground. It felt like it took twenty minutes to hit the dirt. The zergling, convinced of my demise, ran to find more to fight. I leaned on the trunk of a fallen tree, coughing up blood.
"Dang," I thought. "one of my lungs is punctured."
A lack of mobility on my right side revealed spinal damage. This didn't help me any, as I struggled to breathe already. I observed that were I to faint, I would likely not be able to breathe at all, and therefore die. I tried to groan, but it came out as more of a whimper. My last strength was spent hurling the claw at a zerg queen.
So I lay on the ground, hoping to think of some suitable last words. Before my conciousness was spent, I observed that the line of Protoss had charged beyond my position. They seemed to be winning.
My vision failed.
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I'm returning to the beginning of the situation, just so you can understand what was going on.
--------
I was walking home from school. Nothing unusual, I guess, except for the weight of my backpack as I went. It felt like wearing a tank on my back. Homework was plentiful, so I guessed I'd have no time to chat with my friends on the net. I sighed.
Passing behind the stone church, I gazed momentarily upon the cross, which stood atop the tall steeple. It was, at least to me, the loveliest sight as it graced the afternoon sky. It would be the last good thing I saw before giving up my recreation and slumber to homework and study.
"Sleep is for the weak." My mind recalled this memory of my brother.
As I turned my head from the cross to the path I would take to my house, I blinked. I fell, suddenly. Through the ground it seemed, but I didn't really know, as I feared to open my eyes from their blinked state. Once I hit the ground, I slowly reopened them.
Fate had taken my existence and flung it into the wind.
It was a jungle, vast and thick. Vines were strung about, trees stood as cage bars, and leaves existed that were bigger than people. A noise of a bird, or some such creature, called from the hidden branches of a faraway tree.
My first word of thought, "Dang."
My second thought was of what I should do with my backpack. It weighed me down, and it carried nothing particularly useful, so leaving it would be best, so that others would know I was there. But I didn't want to leave behind three things: my collection of LOTR books, my new testament, and my German dictionary, taking everything else out of my pack. Thus my school books remained in the foilage, and my valued would go with me.
But where could I go? Looking about, I saw no resemblance of a path. I recalled the old bit of advice, to stay where you are so that people can find you. That wouldn't work in this case, as no one would know where I was. It was frightening to think of, never going home again. So I didn't think of it.
I walked along. It was slow, as I had to constantly dodge vines, but I managed. The walk was not remarkable, just boring, unbelievably hot, and humid. I gasped to breathe in this insane environment. As I looked at the clouds, they revealed that there would be a downpour, sometime later that evening.
Then I suddenly came upon the most hideous of smells: death. It seemed to come from my right, so thus I turned. A clearing of the trees was ahead. I went toward it.
"...Dang..."
A valley opened at my feet as I found the clearing. It was filled with dead zerg and Protoss, strewn about as if fresh from battle. The decay in the bodies varied, as if battle had been held in that one spot for some time. At least the zerg bodies anyway; the older dead Protoss were likely already converted to dragoons.
I wandered into the valley, looking at the dead for no apparent reason. I peered at the sad, empty eyes of a High Templar, who had fallen surrounded by zerglings. I could imagine his last struggle, as he summoned his last psi storm, dying with his enemies in battle, the way the Protoss do.
Then I began to think. If the zerg had won the battle, why wasn't the ground covered in creep? And if the Protoss had won, how come they were not taking away the dead? Only one possible solution came to mind.
"Dang..."
The battle was still going on, this was just a pause in its duration. Immediately grabbing a severed zerg claw, I ran as fast as I could out of the clearing.
Too late. The sounds of charging zerg filled the air. My voice struggled not to add a scream into the noise. Those things were much faster than me, so I only got about one hundred feet in the opposite direction before they caught up. I had to defend myself.
But I couldn't fight. So I just swung that claw like mad, striking the eyes of a zergling. Fortunately, it was blinded, and few other zerg paid me attention, but just zoomed by. I was too busy trying to dodge hydralisks spines to see where they were going. One got me in the foot, and I fell. But for only a moment. I could stand a little pain if it meant I'd have a chance to live. For sure, a small chance, but better than nothing.
I ran wildly, trying to escape the evil roaches of Zerus. But they were everywhere, so I decided I had no choice but to try and climb a tree. Maybe it wasn't the best thing to do, but you try being surrounded by zerg and think clearly. I barely managed to swing onto one of the trees, climbing as high as possible to escape.
Pausing, I had enough time and height to see what the zerg were fighting for. A Protoss city, apparently, stood over the line of trees.
"So that's what's going on." I thought. "This is when the zerg are trying to take over Aiur."
Suddenly overhead, a flight of scouts began to pour ammo over the below zerg. Many carriers followed. It soon became an air fight, as the mutalisks arrived. Many zealots entered, destroying the zerg they came across as the Templars sent psi storms about them, skillfully missing the zealots they were protecting.
An ultralisk entered the scene, charging for the Protoss lines. It came under my tree, intending to destroy a Templar. It mowed down several zealots and a dragoon on its way.
Something inside me changed. It seemed I could not tolerate the death of that Templar, for some reason. I didn't want the zerg to win. So I, likely foolishly, jumped from my branch onto the back of the ultralisk, holding down the claw. It pierced the thick carapace at the neck of the beast, and it reared. I held on, forcing the claw lower and lower into the ultralisk's head. It struggled, but eventually let go of its life, and fell to the ground.
I pulled out the claw and ran out to find more zerg to destroy. Never before had I felt such bloodlust. Though I had no battle experience, I found myself almost expertly dodging blows and dealing death. It was interesting to kill zerg, even....fun. My claw had no rest.
Suddenly my fight ended. As I struck the death blow to a hydralisk, a zergling stabbed me through the back. I fell with a loud cry, first to my knees, then to the jungle ground. It felt like it took twenty minutes to hit the dirt. The zergling, convinced of my demise, ran to find more to fight. I leaned on the trunk of a fallen tree, coughing up blood.
"Dang," I thought. "one of my lungs is punctured."
A lack of mobility on my right side revealed spinal damage. This didn't help me any, as I struggled to breathe already. I observed that were I to faint, I would likely not be able to breathe at all, and therefore die. I tried to groan, but it came out as more of a whimper. My last strength was spent hurling the claw at a zerg queen.
So I lay on the ground, hoping to think of some suitable last words. Before my conciousness was spent, I observed that the line of Protoss had charged beyond my position. They seemed to be winning.
My vision failed.
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