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The King looks at Lots42. "You'll handle the dragon? You and the dog?" "Yes we will." "I see. It's obvious there is no hope for you to survive and it's obvious you've had no training and it's obvious you haven't even shaved in a while. You'll be killed in seconds. Here, take my sword. Maybe this'll be entertaining. I'll be in my quarters, watching." "Uh..." said Lots42. "Your liege, this is a medevial fantasy. Computers don't exsist." "Oh and I suppose sneakers do?" said the king, pointing at Lots42's feet. "Fine." Lots42 takes the sword. The king places two pinkies in his mouth and whistles hard. A horse drawn carriage pulls up. From the back, a tall man in black tosses a crate. "Supplies." said the king, then leapt up into the carriage. The horses galloped away, kicking up an unholy amount of dust. By the time it settled, Lots42 had equipped himself. He had a scabbard, spare daggers, a torch, a backpack, food and some more items that would probably be useful in the caves. Eddie got some doggie armor that covered him from back to paws. Lots42 gave a few expiriemental swings with the sword, then headed into the caves. He soon came to the paticular expected spot. Right, lights, left running water. If the caves were anything like before, like he had mostly written, right would be machinery, left would be a chest floating over a river. Dangerous creatures usually appeared if one messed with the chest. So Lots42 wouldn't touch it if he went that way.
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7/31/1999 8:15:39 PM
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