Post by The Ray on Mar 4, 2012 0:41:54 GMT -5
The boggarts were coming. He wouldn't have enough time.
His fingers dance on the keyboards. One hand crossed the monitor long way to grab the Mountain Drink.
He unsheathed his blade and turned, pressing his back against the alter. They would not get the Necronomicon. Not this night. Not before him.
A double tapped the mouse, brought up the skill tree and began placing them to the hot-key. He had maybe thirty seconds to finish before they Es' respawned and if he didn't get his projection buffers up, he would have a time with the spellslingers.
A quick prayer was uttered. He felt his Pahlen's words strengthen his blade.
Ctrl-I brought up the inventory screen, a faux-parchment grided to fit all of his equipment. He scrolled down, hot-keyed his potions and elixers to the keys under his right hand and then closed the window.
He patted himself down, checking his equipment. He shifted his component pouch to his right side, feeling the familiar weight of vials and jars seated comfortably at his hip.
Next he brought up the map and checked his location in the dungeon. They were a few tunnels down to his left and right if he needed to make an escape. He could remember the track back to the Medicus in the antichamber, but it was good to remind himself less he get lost.
He could hear their footsteps now, closing in on the door. For a brief, fleeting moment, he imagined the exits to either side of him, thinking of the way back home thorough the large doors of Dwarf-Iron that sealed this place. Cowardice. He had thought himself long-since pass foolish musing.
The rundown clock gave him five more seconds. He adjusted his headset and turned on the game chat.
"Keystone Kid ninty-eight, where are you? You went AFFACK fifteen minutes ago. Are we gonna do this or what?"
His eyes turned toward the door. His stance remained steel. The foul spawn of the underlands would not move him. Not with his trusted blade on his side. Still, something inside him stirred. A fey longing for his companion. Where was that damned elf? What could he be doing? Why wasn't he here? He shook these thoughts off as the door before him came tumbling down and the boggarts flooded in. He gripped the pommel of his sword, took a single step forward and leap into them, screaming as he went.
" Leeeeeroooooooooooooy...!" Ray said before taking another drink of his Mountain Soda
His fingers dance on the keyboards. One hand crossed the monitor long way to grab the Mountain Drink.
He unsheathed his blade and turned, pressing his back against the alter. They would not get the Necronomicon. Not this night. Not before him.
A double tapped the mouse, brought up the skill tree and began placing them to the hot-key. He had maybe thirty seconds to finish before they Es' respawned and if he didn't get his projection buffers up, he would have a time with the spellslingers.
A quick prayer was uttered. He felt his Pahlen's words strengthen his blade.
Ctrl-I brought up the inventory screen, a faux-parchment grided to fit all of his equipment. He scrolled down, hot-keyed his potions and elixers to the keys under his right hand and then closed the window.
He patted himself down, checking his equipment. He shifted his component pouch to his right side, feeling the familiar weight of vials and jars seated comfortably at his hip.
Next he brought up the map and checked his location in the dungeon. They were a few tunnels down to his left and right if he needed to make an escape. He could remember the track back to the Medicus in the antichamber, but it was good to remind himself less he get lost.
He could hear their footsteps now, closing in on the door. For a brief, fleeting moment, he imagined the exits to either side of him, thinking of the way back home thorough the large doors of Dwarf-Iron that sealed this place. Cowardice. He had thought himself long-since pass foolish musing.
The rundown clock gave him five more seconds. He adjusted his headset and turned on the game chat.
"Keystone Kid ninty-eight, where are you? You went AFFACK fifteen minutes ago. Are we gonna do this or what?"
His eyes turned toward the door. His stance remained steel. The foul spawn of the underlands would not move him. Not with his trusted blade on his side. Still, something inside him stirred. A fey longing for his companion. Where was that damned elf? What could he be doing? Why wasn't he here? He shook these thoughts off as the door before him came tumbling down and the boggarts flooded in. He gripped the pommel of his sword, took a single step forward and leap into them, screaming as he went.
" Leeeeeroooooooooooooy...!" Ray said before taking another drink of his Mountain Soda
