In Which Kylock Writes a Story, As He Reads a Story

“Dude, that’s a lot of demons.” said the soldier. He was tired. From the fighting, you see. He had been fighting, you see. Demons. He was fighting demons, and he was injured.

“Verily, my good ser from realms beyond the realm on which we currently reside.” said the freaky alien with tentacles attached to his face. Those tentacles gave him an air of authority, though. Plus, hey, they (the tentacles, mind, keep up here!) can also kill a dude- with sexiness.

There were a lot of dead demons in front of the two soldiers. Well, not in front of but more to the side and down about forty-five degrees, but we’re not here to be fucking engineers. Are we? No. The demons were also probably red and brown and black. Maybe some green. Lots of demon blood too, that’s black as well.

“Yo, freaky alien dude, why the hell are you fighting to protect this portal? I mean, it isn’t as if keeping a giant horde of demons whose only purpose is the complete destruction of all that is good and beautiful isn’t enough of a reason on its own.” said the soldier. The injured one. (The injured one we know about, okay? There’s a lot of injured soldiers just go with it.) The freaky alien dude, did he have a name?, looked at the soldier.

“Because. Some of my species left this plane and went to yours. Thus your home is now my home.” said the alien.

“Oh. Seems like a bit of a stretch to me. I mean, why would you want to protect the home of some people who left this plane and went to another as a giant swarm of demons was coming to destroy the last vestiges of your civiliz–” but the solider was interrupted by a wave of demons attacking. The scouts somehow missed their massive bulk cresting the horizon, but in the scout’s defense those demons aren’t much fun to look at.

Suddenly! Mages appeared! Which didn’t really surprise anyone, because mages are wont to do that. You know, with the magic and the bending of physical reality and ripping open portals in the fabric of space time. It’d be more surprising to see a mage just walk up to the front lines, actually, which is surely not something which these mages would do. Oh, and one of them had a really nice rack. Like, damn, you could cook pancakes on those titties. But, these mages are pretty much pointless anyway because they aren’t going to do anything. No, really. Watch.

“Shit, son! That’s a lot of demons!” said some soldier (some other soldier) to the freaky alien dude.

“Verily. But we must have faith that our allies will shut down the teleporters.” he replied.

“What teleporters? What allies? What the hell are you talking about?” the other soldier asked. The freaky alien dude simply crushed his skull with his mighty alien tentacles.

Then, before anyone could say anything, battle commenced! Wait, no. There were inane battle cries meant to inspire the defenders then the battle commenced. Demons are awfully nice to wait for them to finish, aren’t they? Apparently the battle droned, which means that the battle either made a low buzzing noise for quite some time (unlikely) or it turned into a drone inside a massive bee hive (equally unlikely). Apparently those mages did do something, as the laws of reality clearly broke down inside the battle lines for a while. The battle was looking bad for the defenders though, demons often do have that advantage of endless numbers that everyone always forgets about. Sheesh. You’d think after a few hundred years someone would have picked up on that.

But, wait. What could that be? Is it possible? Are the defenders saved? Yes! It is! Deus-Ex Machina! A superb usage, too, being barely past the introduction of the initial conflict of this story. Druids poured out of the portal, and they fucked some shit up for a while, so the leaders all decided it would be a great time to have a little chat.

“Yo. I’m Jabba the Hutt’s Majordomo.” said the leader of the druids.

“Verily, good druid ser. I am a freaky alien.” said the freaky alien.

“And I am a soldier.” said the soldier.

“And I am Sir Not Appearing in This Story” said Sir Not Appearing in This Story.

The battle commenced some more, some speeches were made, and some demons died. The defenders didn’t take any losses though, they were way too MANLY to die.

“Peons! There are like fifty portals here, and we can get one or two out of them at a time! You are doomed!” said some demon that we had, heretofore, neither seen nor head.

“That’s possibly hundreds of demons at a time! My god, we’re all doomed!” said the soldier.

“Verily.”

But, the defenders kept on defending. By definition that is what defenders do. So they did that. Defend, I mean. Not that. No one can do that, that action wouldn’t make any sense. (Though it does make grammatical sense.)

Suddenly! Deus-Ex Machina! Again!

An force of many varieties of  races and skill sets walked out from the portal, then they killed some demons. It was all very inspiring and MANLY. Then the leader of this new force of defenders spoke to the rest of the defenders. (The demons stopped attacking, if you must know. They’re polite, remember?)

“Hello MANLY men, we’re here to do MANLY things with our MANLY weapons so we can become more MANLY by drilling into the MANLY face of Elune and making her more MANLY!” said the leader.

“What’s drilling mean?” asked another injured soldier. The freaky alien smashed him with an errant tentacle.

“Verily. What does drilling mean?” asked the freaky alien.

The guild leader grabbed a small dwarf, who happened to be his brother, but was also of another race, which would make sense if the dwarf wasn’t full blooded, or if cross species breeding were possible, but, details, and tossed the dwarf into the leader of the demons, which apparently is the secret to killing demon leaders.

“Verily.” said the freaky alien.

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About kylock

Man, biographies are really hard to write because sometimes you just don't know what to write about and then you ramble on pointlessly for a while about your hobbies (video games, reading, programming) and end up boring your readers because they expect something witty and insightful (there are only two ways to save money, neither of which involves hookers) and then readership falls off and you cry yourself to sleep.
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