Probe:
I snap my Avatar’s head around to locate the source of the scream, and
note in passing that the face of the dwarf turned a shade whiter around
the very full and heavy beard that dwarves are famed for, in fiction and
in the reality of this world.
I note several things as I crouch down into a standard karate stance,
suitable for taking on a platoon of Enemy grunts with this unit (or, hopefully,
one crazed and homicidal dwarf). One is that a look of resignation on the
face of Tarin. The other is that the former were - jackal that I had coldcocked-and
temporarily broken his jaw in the process- out in the desert only a relatively
short time ago is nearest the mad Tarin analog…….
And is more than holding his own!
If nothing else, Natthias’ return to sanity and being cured of lycanthropy
has done wonders for his battle finesse!
I just wish I knew where he got the armor, shield, and sword!
***************************************************
Natthias:
The Lord shall be my Sword and Shield….and I shall not want,
I repeat to myself to himself again as his shield and sword either blocks
or attempts to strike the madly flailing dwarf. Each time the ax tried
to score, my shield was there to block it. With my Faith I have the
strength of ten……
Nor am I slow on my feet…..
Thirty minutes latter, after repeatedly refusing offers of aid from
the machine/man known as Probe (friendly enough fellow…but this is MY battle)!
My sword, being something more than of the ordinary blade flicks
out one last time and…..
THUNK!
Two dwarven faces, one wild eyed….the other just out and out surprised,
stare at the half a battle ax laying at our feet! What’s left is too awkward
to use effectivly in battle, and the crazed dwarf has spent all his daggers
on my shield.
The insane Tarin, reeling from dozens of cuts and slashes with his
battle with me, just shakes his head in disbelief.
I must admit, I’m a bit amazed myself.
I’ve sent out envoyes to the corners of the land (via slipgate….the
only means left of travel to my nation before the…..recent events) in search
for new things (trips to Nippon and the far East….especially the things
my daughter Alicia had learned from the workers of metal in Nipon….were
always interesting to my sons and daughters). Partly in the cause of pure
exchange of information (within reason), and partly in search of yet better
and faster ways at beating back the infidel Muslims (oh…yes…..there are
good Muslims out there….and there are bad Christians out there…..Ethiopia,
unfortunately, has to deal with the Muslims that want her riches….and her
people to be followers of Muhammad). Ethiopia would rather remain Christian,
and so…..
Excuse me, I digress. It must be the fact that after such a long
battle that I’m more than a bit fatigued. Battles usually are over
in a matter of seconds. The better ones are over in a matter of a minute
or so, being that the combatants soon tire (swinging a sword, even one
that is a Gift from God, is tiring)!
At the age of fourty five, I’m in excellent shape, and thus able
to maintain this pace (especially through my Faith).
It’s rare to find one who’s up to the task of fighting for approximately
a half hour (thirty one minutes, by my estimates).
The techique used by the dwarf had been frenzied, almost like he
was on some type of stimulating drug. His lack of acknowledgment to pain
speaks the truth of his rumored madness (as well as his eyes). If I had
no armor or shield, the few blows that had gotten past my sword would have
been the end of me!
It is a shame that this dwarf had not fought for Ethiopia, for his
fame in battle would have been renowned (that is….if we could harness his
berserker tendencies….point him in the right direction and let him at the
enemy). And, of course, his faith would have to be address beforehand……
Still, he is a foe worthy of respect.
”Do….you….Yeild?” I gasp out, lowering my sword as I try to recover
my breath.
This proves to be a mistake.
I may have been king, but this doesn’t prevent me from making mistakes.
You see….I’m merely human…..
**************************
The insane Tarin’s eyes grow wider in anger and disbelief as the
ebony skinned….Non-person asks him to yield.
The dwarf may have lost his marbles. He may even doubt that he is
truly a dwarf.
However, he still has his bigoted pride.
And his pride has been pushed to the breaking point by his opponents
asking him to surrender.
No Non-person has the bloody right to ASK him for his surrender.
Better for the animal to run him through than that!
-
 An animal like growl
of rage comes from his throat as he leaps at the startled Natthias, ready
to ring the older man's neck!
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