linux_junkie
15-05-2004, 11:53
This is a short little piece I wrote up, as my way of poking fun at some of the sillier and more senseless things in Diablo 2. This is not meant to be a serious piece, or a very long piece. It's just a short blurb that I enjoyed writing, although I'm unsure whether it's any good or not. More than likely, I'll be my own biggest (and only) fan with this one.
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“Now, kids, pay attention!” Matron squeaked, “this is important information I’m covering, and it is of the utmost importance that you listen to me and that you understand your duties.”
The little ones scooted closer to Matron, so that they formed a semicircle around her.
A little one with particularly bright-colored skin spoke up. “When do we get to do growed-up things?”
“Soon enough, Stinshi. Now, who here can tell me the primary duties of a Fallen?”
A runt raised his hand nervously. “To act as a buffer between the adventurers and the Dark Lord?”
“Very good, Popo. Who can tell me what to do when you see an adventurer coming?”
The runt raised his hand again. “Join our comrades in a suicidal attack on our adversary.”
“Once again, Popo, you are correct. Our goal is not to kill the adventurer. No no no. It is merely to be a nuisance, and to slow him down. Also, it is a good idea to attack en masse whenever an adventurer begins fighting with a stronger enemy. The clutter should REALLY irritate them. But remember to leave the real fighting to our special fighters, Rakanishu be praised.”
“Rakanishu!” The class echoed back.
A little one raised his hand.
“Yes?”
“What if I don’t want to get killed by an adventurer?”
“What else would you do?”
“Well, I really wanted to herd animals. Maybe be a farmer.”
“A farmer!” Matron asked incredulously. “Why would you want to forsake the eternal glory of being a Fallen warrior?”
“Um... to, uh, live... longer.”
“Why live longer here, when you can spend a glorious eternal afterlife with our Lord? Enough with your foolish questions. Things have been done this way forever, and it’s not changing now.”
“But-”
“That’s just the way things are done. Moving along, I-”
An angry looking warrior hobbled into the tent. “Matron, a solo adventurer is headed this way. He should be here within five minutes time.”
“Okay, then. Good news, everybody, you get to fight today! Grab your weapons, and suit up. Also, don’t forget to grab a handful of random loot from the chest.”
“What’s the loot for again?”
The Matron rolled her bulbous eyes. “So that the adventurer can collect it when you die. Why else?”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. Why-”
“That’s just the way things are done, so don’t question it. Alright, everybody, exit the tent and get in the positions I showed you before! No mistakes!”
The little ones finished putting on their flimsy armor, and trotted outside. Matron grabbed one of them by the arm as he tried to leave, and pulled him aside.
“You fight like your supposed to, got it? None of this farming business. And if you decide to run like a coward, I swear by Diablo himself that I will hunt you down.”
The little one gulped and ran out. Matron followed, closing the tent flap behind her. Everyone stood there, nervous in anticipation. Eventually, a figure could be seen in the distance. As it got closer, it was revealed to be a lightly armored man, wielding a heavy club.
“Ready?” Matron called out.
The adventurer was right outside the camp now.
Matron raised her staff above her head. “Rakanishu!”
The Fallen charged the lone adventurer. Left and right, the adventurer swung his club, each hit crushing a Fallen skull. They continued to come at him, and eventually surround him. One warrior swung his sword, and slew the adventurer. The Fallen slowly inched away from the hero’s corpse, jaws hanging open in disbelief. They all turned to face the young warrior who slew him. Matron marched up to him.
“YOU! I should have known! You fool, your not supposed to kill the adventurer! Look what you did! You are hereby banished from the tribe, and will never know the eternal splendor of the Warrior’s Heaven! Go ‘farm’, or whatever it is you wanted to do. Leave us now, or die!”
The young Fallen smiled. He trotted off into the distance.
“Another one!” Someone squeaked.
“Positions! And let’s do it right, this time, now that our misfit warrior is gone. Rakanishu!” Matron bellowed.
A woman in billowing white robes approached, and stopped about twenty yards from camp. Her staff began to glow a vivid red hue. She smiled. The Fallens smiled. Time to do it the right way. The Fallens charged. A bright flash burst from the lady‘s staff, accompanied by searing heat. The Fallens smiled even more.
Epilogue:
The young outcast Fallen, Weewee, did indeed take up his life-long dream of being a farmer. He has successfully bred a large number of cows, whom he then trained to wield axes. He is currently retired, and spends his days playing droughts with his prized Cow King, on his large plot of land, successfully hidden away in the mountains, away from those pesky adventurers.
================================================== =====
“Now, kids, pay attention!” Matron squeaked, “this is important information I’m covering, and it is of the utmost importance that you listen to me and that you understand your duties.”
The little ones scooted closer to Matron, so that they formed a semicircle around her.
A little one with particularly bright-colored skin spoke up. “When do we get to do growed-up things?”
“Soon enough, Stinshi. Now, who here can tell me the primary duties of a Fallen?”
A runt raised his hand nervously. “To act as a buffer between the adventurers and the Dark Lord?”
“Very good, Popo. Who can tell me what to do when you see an adventurer coming?”
The runt raised his hand again. “Join our comrades in a suicidal attack on our adversary.”
“Once again, Popo, you are correct. Our goal is not to kill the adventurer. No no no. It is merely to be a nuisance, and to slow him down. Also, it is a good idea to attack en masse whenever an adventurer begins fighting with a stronger enemy. The clutter should REALLY irritate them. But remember to leave the real fighting to our special fighters, Rakanishu be praised.”
“Rakanishu!” The class echoed back.
A little one raised his hand.
“Yes?”
“What if I don’t want to get killed by an adventurer?”
“What else would you do?”
“Well, I really wanted to herd animals. Maybe be a farmer.”
“A farmer!” Matron asked incredulously. “Why would you want to forsake the eternal glory of being a Fallen warrior?”
“Um... to, uh, live... longer.”
“Why live longer here, when you can spend a glorious eternal afterlife with our Lord? Enough with your foolish questions. Things have been done this way forever, and it’s not changing now.”
“But-”
“That’s just the way things are done. Moving along, I-”
An angry looking warrior hobbled into the tent. “Matron, a solo adventurer is headed this way. He should be here within five minutes time.”
“Okay, then. Good news, everybody, you get to fight today! Grab your weapons, and suit up. Also, don’t forget to grab a handful of random loot from the chest.”
“What’s the loot for again?”
The Matron rolled her bulbous eyes. “So that the adventurer can collect it when you die. Why else?”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. Why-”
“That’s just the way things are done, so don’t question it. Alright, everybody, exit the tent and get in the positions I showed you before! No mistakes!”
The little ones finished putting on their flimsy armor, and trotted outside. Matron grabbed one of them by the arm as he tried to leave, and pulled him aside.
“You fight like your supposed to, got it? None of this farming business. And if you decide to run like a coward, I swear by Diablo himself that I will hunt you down.”
The little one gulped and ran out. Matron followed, closing the tent flap behind her. Everyone stood there, nervous in anticipation. Eventually, a figure could be seen in the distance. As it got closer, it was revealed to be a lightly armored man, wielding a heavy club.
“Ready?” Matron called out.
The adventurer was right outside the camp now.
Matron raised her staff above her head. “Rakanishu!”
The Fallen charged the lone adventurer. Left and right, the adventurer swung his club, each hit crushing a Fallen skull. They continued to come at him, and eventually surround him. One warrior swung his sword, and slew the adventurer. The Fallen slowly inched away from the hero’s corpse, jaws hanging open in disbelief. They all turned to face the young warrior who slew him. Matron marched up to him.
“YOU! I should have known! You fool, your not supposed to kill the adventurer! Look what you did! You are hereby banished from the tribe, and will never know the eternal splendor of the Warrior’s Heaven! Go ‘farm’, or whatever it is you wanted to do. Leave us now, or die!”
The young Fallen smiled. He trotted off into the distance.
“Another one!” Someone squeaked.
“Positions! And let’s do it right, this time, now that our misfit warrior is gone. Rakanishu!” Matron bellowed.
A woman in billowing white robes approached, and stopped about twenty yards from camp. Her staff began to glow a vivid red hue. She smiled. The Fallens smiled. Time to do it the right way. The Fallens charged. A bright flash burst from the lady‘s staff, accompanied by searing heat. The Fallens smiled even more.
Epilogue:
The young outcast Fallen, Weewee, did indeed take up his life-long dream of being a farmer. He has successfully bred a large number of cows, whom he then trained to wield axes. He is currently retired, and spends his days playing droughts with his prized Cow King, on his large plot of land, successfully hidden away in the mountains, away from those pesky adventurers.