Well, I thank you all for reviewing and reading my little story here.
I actually have a lot of fun writing this, so I will continue to post until
it starts to get boring, which shouldn't happen for awhile. Um, yeah, I'm
not very good at these new chapter introduction thingys, so here you go.
Enjoy!
They walked forward with stealth and silence; quietly and hiding in shadows, they darted toward the evil den of- well, evil.
The silence was broken by a loud bodily noise coming from Og. He grinned and blushed sheepishly.
"OOPS! FORGIVE ME!" bellowed Og as loud as he could.
"Strangling gas potion?" gasped Wimpelina, her eyes watering over.
"Shhhh!" silenced Chuckles, eyes livid with fear, anger, or some sort of other strange emotions only necromancers seem to have.
"Too late- "whined Insufferabilus. The hordes of red-faced demons came rushing at them with their cruel implements of torture waving evilly.
"They've got knives!" screeched Wimpelina. She was about to follow the example of her namesake had it not been for the beefy arm of Og blocking her way.
"They've got clubs!" sighed Chuckles, chuckling nervously.
"They got chainsaws!" moaned Og fearfully.
Sure enough, the red-skinned Fallens were shaking their knives, clubs and chainsaws menacingly toward the companions. The whish of swords, the clunk of clubs on rocks and overall blaring whirrs of high-octane gasoline powered chainsaws created the terrible sound of battle.
His barbarian blood rising in his veins, Og ran forward with the fearlessness (call it courage, or insanity) of his forefathers. "Og SMASH! NOW!" he roared as he flew into the fray like a big warrior-dude. His one- handed club knocked Fallen everywhere, their bodies squishing against the walls as they slid lifeless to the ground. His companions looked in awful (awe-full, as in full of awe, or the other kind, whichever you want) silence as they witnessed their burly friend's frenzy of fighting.
"Og BASH! Og SMASH! Og TRASH! Og CRASH! Og THRASH!"
Suddenly, their came a flash of light and another group of Fallen and Zombies came to wreak their revenge on Og for slaying their fallen Fallen companions. The companions ran to help Og, yelling their battle cries.
"By the light of- oh shoot, I forgot my battle cry," said Insufferabilus as he tried to hack Fallen and read his script at the same time.
"Ooh, I just HATE you evil sunburnt monkey things!" squealed Wimpelina, in a very un-Amazonish way.
"Taste death, foul creatures of hell!" creepily called Chuckles as he shot teeth and directed his skeletons into battle.
"Og SLASH! Og MASH! Og GASH! Og, uhh- GNASH?" Og yelled, running out of adjectives.
In remarkably quick time, the fallen were dead and lying in heaps upon the floor. The companions looked at the bodies, looked at each other, and then ran and began looting corpses.
"I call the sword!" yelled Chuckles.
"I rock your call!" yelled Insufferabilus.
"Dangit!"
"I call the bow, no rock!" called Wimpelina.
"Og STASH!" yelled Og pocketing as many items and gold, regardless of type.
"Allright, a sword!" Insufferabilus won the rock and got the sword. Chuckles contented himself with a small shield.
"Og SASH!" yelled Og gleefully as he found a sash and put it on admiring himself.
"This bow sucks," complained Wimpelina.
They looked around to find nothing on the ground worth grabbing and light coming from the ceiling.
"My work here is done," muttered Insufferabilus nobly.
"Perhaps now the rogues will trust us," sighed Wimpelina.
They stood for a while pondering their current situation when the spell was broken.
"CHICKEN!" yelled Og.
Immediately Insufferabilus opened a town portal and they went back to the Rogue Encampment.
They walked forward with stealth and silence; quietly and hiding in shadows, they darted toward the evil den of- well, evil.
The silence was broken by a loud bodily noise coming from Og. He grinned and blushed sheepishly.
"OOPS! FORGIVE ME!" bellowed Og as loud as he could.
"Strangling gas potion?" gasped Wimpelina, her eyes watering over.
"Shhhh!" silenced Chuckles, eyes livid with fear, anger, or some sort of other strange emotions only necromancers seem to have.
"Too late- "whined Insufferabilus. The hordes of red-faced demons came rushing at them with their cruel implements of torture waving evilly.
"They've got knives!" screeched Wimpelina. She was about to follow the example of her namesake had it not been for the beefy arm of Og blocking her way.
"They've got clubs!" sighed Chuckles, chuckling nervously.
"They got chainsaws!" moaned Og fearfully.
Sure enough, the red-skinned Fallens were shaking their knives, clubs and chainsaws menacingly toward the companions. The whish of swords, the clunk of clubs on rocks and overall blaring whirrs of high-octane gasoline powered chainsaws created the terrible sound of battle.
His barbarian blood rising in his veins, Og ran forward with the fearlessness (call it courage, or insanity) of his forefathers. "Og SMASH! NOW!" he roared as he flew into the fray like a big warrior-dude. His one- handed club knocked Fallen everywhere, their bodies squishing against the walls as they slid lifeless to the ground. His companions looked in awful (awe-full, as in full of awe, or the other kind, whichever you want) silence as they witnessed their burly friend's frenzy of fighting.
"Og BASH! Og SMASH! Og TRASH! Og CRASH! Og THRASH!"
Suddenly, their came a flash of light and another group of Fallen and Zombies came to wreak their revenge on Og for slaying their fallen Fallen companions. The companions ran to help Og, yelling their battle cries.
"By the light of- oh shoot, I forgot my battle cry," said Insufferabilus as he tried to hack Fallen and read his script at the same time.
"Ooh, I just HATE you evil sunburnt monkey things!" squealed Wimpelina, in a very un-Amazonish way.
"Taste death, foul creatures of hell!" creepily called Chuckles as he shot teeth and directed his skeletons into battle.
"Og SLASH! Og MASH! Og GASH! Og, uhh- GNASH?" Og yelled, running out of adjectives.
In remarkably quick time, the fallen were dead and lying in heaps upon the floor. The companions looked at the bodies, looked at each other, and then ran and began looting corpses.
"I call the sword!" yelled Chuckles.
"I rock your call!" yelled Insufferabilus.
"Dangit!"
"I call the bow, no rock!" called Wimpelina.
"Og STASH!" yelled Og pocketing as many items and gold, regardless of type.
"Allright, a sword!" Insufferabilus won the rock and got the sword. Chuckles contented himself with a small shield.
"Og SASH!" yelled Og gleefully as he found a sash and put it on admiring himself.
"This bow sucks," complained Wimpelina.
They looked around to find nothing on the ground worth grabbing and light coming from the ceiling.
"My work here is done," muttered Insufferabilus nobly.
"Perhaps now the rogues will trust us," sighed Wimpelina.
They stood for a while pondering their current situation when the spell was broken.
"CHICKEN!" yelled Og.
Immediately Insufferabilus opened a town portal and they went back to the Rogue Encampment.