Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard.
Where anything goes.
-//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7
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Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard. Where anything goes. -//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7 |
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Thursday, February 12, 2004 - War of Words, Part V.ii - 16. My magic will destroy you! Honestly, I had no idea that I would be getting into trouble of this magnitude. After casually sweeping me right into the swiping range of the polearm-wielding guards, Pwyns Xjrmynq had well and truly scarpered, leaving poor little me to fend for myself while carrying a nonsensically heavy sword that I couldn't even carry, let alone swing. The adrenaline that surged through my blood did give me strength enough to actually run with that thing, but I didn't know how long I could hold out in the painful pattern of alternately running like a plucked chicken and glancing back to look out for the next thrust of the left guard's fearsome spear. Some royalty, some leader, some cavalier, seeing how quickly he had abandoned me to a grisly fate of being served as Sunday roast. Or at least looking like one ... I'm not so conceited like him to consider myself all that tasty. Speaking of chivalry ... "Why in good heavens' name ... watch that thing, damn it! ... are you trying to kill a defenseless little girl? Do I look like ... whoa ... I actually want to cut you to pieces, let alone be able to?" "..." The guard remained disturbingly silent as he raised his spear for yet another attempt to add another hole to my skull. "I don't think this really defines chivalry, you know ..." I whined as, rolling on the ground to avoid the thrust, the spear nearly nicked the hem of my dress flailing in the tumult. It's a good thing that he never thought of actually throwing the spear, possibly because he didn't really desire a stuffed and preserved little girl with stitches all over her front strung up and mounted in a glass cabinet in his living room. "Chivalry is following one's orders unwaveringly," intoned the left guard in his deep and dark voice as he struck the ground where I was just standing with his spear, "Our mission is to eradicate all enemies of the state, and that includes all traitors, without exception! Now comply and accept your punishment!" "Mercy is granting you the privilege of a swift death," philosophised the right guard in a gruff and husky tone, as he struck the ground with the handle of his halberd, "Kindliness compels us to bring you death with one stroke, and concentrate all your pain into a single second. Now ... where did that skinny guy go?" It wasn't the best thing to do to consider the utterings of a pair of scholarly, proselytising guards who spoke in tandem while a sharp object was continually being sent toward one of your vital body parts, chosen at random. Thank goodness for the fact that while they spoke together, they certainly didn't attack together. Not yet, at least. But the situation was becoming increasingly bleak as while the little speed left in me did help me dodge the deadly spear thrusts, the guard was quick enough to prevent from dashing out on one of the roads leading out of town, and might soon have me cornered against the wall of a building if my fatigue didn't slow me down enough for a killing blow. It was a vicious circle, and the only way to avoid certain death was to do something drastic to break out of it, something like ... Pwyns Xjrmynq always told me to take "most exceedingly good" care of that blasted sword of his, even though it didn't do much other than serve as a very large paperweight. Considering that I couldn't swing it, there seriously wasn't much point lugging it around, without him here to tell me off (if only he was, so that he would draw their attention ...) and with a furious guard hot on my heels. I hadn't thought of this so far, but now that I did, perhaps I could give it a try ... I nearly ran straight into the pole of the spear as the guard put a thrust that was slightly too quick just in front of me. As he swung it to try and catch me in the side with the pole, I knew that this was the perfect opportunity for my surprise attack ... because any later and I might have been left sprawled and skewered on the ground. "Take this!" I yelled, as with all my might I raised the worthless artifact I carried with me and hurled it with all my might at the guard, defenseless beyond layers upon layers of armour plating, as I deliberately fell to avoid being hit with the pole. Striking true (well, as much as an artillery shell would ...), the flying sword smacked him full in the chest as he was unable to dodge or knock it aside in time. Barreled over onto the ground in a heap of armour with a heavy sword over his legs, and the spear still in his hand, it looked as if he had been rendered temporarily immobile. Now was my chance ... "Partner!" wheezed the left guard, as with his free arm he tried valiantly to swat the blade off his chest, "Assist me!" "Comrade!" called the right guard as, finding the search for the other man futile, he lunged for me instead, "Here I come!" Freedom! Or so I thought, before the mercilessly sharp blade of a halberd sent itself crashing just inches in front of my chest. Great. Now they were both after me. And I just realised another reason why Pwyns Xjrmynq told me never to throw the sword away ... because like it or not, it was the only real weapon I had. Besides ... The noise of a heavy metal object clattering to the floor emanated from just a little to my left, and hopping backwards I noticed that the spearman had once again regained his position, having effortlessly shoved the metal monstrosity off his chest. Perhaps it was not so much the weight of the object himself that stunned him, but the fact that a shrivelled, scrawny little girl was carrying (made to carry, rather) the infernal object, and was actually able to. It took him a few seconds to steady himself before he, like his compatriot with the halberd, made another lunge for me. "Traitorous rebel!" roared the left guard, apparently deciding to offer me a free frontal lobotomy, "All treachery shall be punished by death, no matter who the perpetrator or the extent of their crime!" "But ..." I stammered as I ducked and dodged, avoiding the blow. "Worthless vermin!" growled the right guard, helpfully attempting an incision as an aid to my autopsy, "There is no use in talking! The only words we seek are your dying onese!" "Er ..." I stuttered as I deftly leapt away from the descending blade. For starters, who were the ones talking here? And wasn't it painfully obvious that talking was my only recourse, apart from banging on their thick armour with my bare fists? What would it take to convince these guys to leave me alone? In avoiding the halberd blow, I leapt backwards ... and promptly tripped over the pole of a spear which just happened to be there to destabilise me. I lost my balance, and, not being able to react in time, was sent rolling on the ground, with the scrolls in my pocket jabbing me painfully in the gut. Wait ... scrolls ... the scrolls ... magic? Since I obviously didn't come from a magical world, and even in this world I had no proof of the effectiveness of magical abilities of any kind, to resort to something untried and untested would seem the worst bet in the form sheet. But, like a desparate gambler, I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, and better to die murmuring something vaguely threatening than to be dismembered while weakly pleading for mercy and forgiveness. And so ... to resort to spells ... the only spell I knew. I raised my hands ... Come to think of it, what was the only spell I knew? What did it do? That positive-emotion thing? And ... how do you 'cast' it? I was reading the scroll when that strange feeling came over me ... was I actually reading it? Or was it something more than just words ... but senses as well? Or was I simply faking it all and it was just all in my head that I happened to break out in a happy mood? And there I was with not one but two angry guards trying to kill me. There was nothing more I could do ... except mumble something and look serious while inside, I was fervently trying to remember just what it was I had seen on that scroll. "Wait! Stop!" the right guard cried as he steadied his halberd which he was on the verge of sending crashing onto my head, "That girl ... what kind of deception is this? I've heard this procedure being mentioned in our soldier's manuals. Be on your guard!" "Be careful!" the left guard cautioned as he raised his spear to a defensive position instead of gearing up for another thrust, "That pose ... I remember it clearly! The tales speak of chosen Consonance able to wield mystical power. Look out for it!" "I ... er ... well ... mumble mumble ... hyah!" Was I supposed to utter some magic words or something? Not knowing whatever they were, my lips still moved involuntarily, and I thought it more effective, and more darkly humorous, to make a loud cry at the end and get the guards all alarmed. But ... just what did I do? And what really happened? The guards gazed at me warily as I crouched there, my hands to myself and watching them similarly with leery, paranoid eyes. And then they gazed at each other. And then they turned back to me again. "What just happened?" asked the left guard inquisitively, shrugging his shoulder plates, "I haven't a clue." "Got any ideas?" replied the right guard curiously, scratching his helm in surprise, "I don't know what that did." The worst fears crept up in me. Nothing happened ... and so I was to prepare for death. This is it, Charlotte. Your final moments, your swan song, and you didn't even have an opportunity to write a will or say some last words. This is the end. "But ..." considered the left guard as he leaned his spear against his shoulder, "I think it's funny how she frightened us with a loud noise that didn't do anything." "Yes ..." added the right guard as he leaned against his halberd with his shoulder, "In fact, I don't think I've ever been tricked by anything so hilarious in my life." Wha ... was something happening? "Heh ... hahaha!" snickered the left guard. "Hee ... hehehe!" sniggered the right guard. Eh ... so did it work? They started laughing stupidly, just as I had back there at the farm. Did that mean ... since they weren't injured ... they fell under the spell of happiness? So was I really a true sorceror? But the answers to those questions weren't what was really important right now ... what was more important is, escaping! Carefully watching to ensure that the two guards were still engaged in hysterics, I sneaked rightward, toward the path which I knew led out of town and back to the farm. "Ha ... hoohahahahaha!" guffawed the left guard, not noticing me slipping away from him. "Hee ... ehehehehehe!" chortled the right guard, not observing how I sidled just past him. Until ... "Hahahahaha ..." laughed the left guard as, in a cheerful, buddy-like manner, he knocked his shoulder against his partner's, not realising how his halberd was leaning precariously against it. As the left guard bumped him, the force, accentuated by the hearty laughter of the guard himself, was enough to knock the deadly weapon out of its delicate balance and send it plummeting down ... down ... on me. Whack! The full force of the pole of the halberd slammend itself against the back of my neck, knocking me over and pinning me to the floor while the axe head, with the aid of gravity, dug itself deeply into the gravelly ground, essentially trapping me between the pole and the floor. "Ow ... aah!" I wailed and screamed as I struggled and flailed but could not wrench myself out of the wooden vice the halberd made to trap me in, "I ... can't ... escape!" Noticing this rather unexpected turn of events, the two guards strode over, still laughing nonsensically like bewitched fiends, and gazed down at me as I lay trapped and immobile. "Hahaha ... she's trapped," remarked the left guard as, hoisting his spear, he glanced down at me, "Now that we've captured her, we don't have to kill her right away!" What? "Hehehe ... you're right," commented the right guard as he knelt down to address himself to me, "I'm sorry, kid, but you're now in the custody of the royal town guards." Really? So they didn't have to kill me all along? Or was it just a twist of fate which led them to realise how pathetic a fighter I really was? Or were they just in a good mood, as a result of my spell. Who knows? But perhaps this time, Charlotte the intrepid spellcaster would survive to fight some other day ... and hopefully with the knowledge of just what she was doing in battle. What splendour! What power! What flagrant exaggeration! Level up! Charlotte is now a Level 2 Priestess! Yipee! Wahey! Zip-a-dee-doo-dah! - Ereh dne t'nseod erutnevda ruoy. Because you must be dyslexic if you can't guess it yet - posted by Charlotte | 3:52 pm
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Disclaimer : The Slayers and Filia Ul Copt and all images thereof are the property of Hajime Kanzaka and Rui Araizumi. I don't own any of them, although if I had a choice I would want Filia ... ~//n_n\\7 |
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