Mithrandir

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10/12/2021 01:29 PM 

C l a s h . [Writing Entry.]
Category: Stories

 

O n w a r d   t o   f a c e   e v i l !

Stride on, lusty limbs! Soles are stomping the ground whilst on a smooth gallop—dirt left to spring alive! Wide leaps and great haste are made. Nerves twitch with strain. Lungs burn for breath to exchange the old with the new. Now is not the time to be a statue. Instead, be a comet on its way to a mighty impact! Frayed ends of a tattered grey cloak are at the mercy of the stinging winds brought upon by this spirited promenade.

Pernicious purpose is not simply out of the unyielding need for slaughter. To ward off the wicked wave, even if it may later seem hopeless should it all goes quite ill, is a damn noble goal. So few bears the steel heart to brave this mass of malice, all armed to the teeth and ready to conquer a banquet of civilization behind the lone hasty voyager.

In hand, the grip is tight upon the trusted sharpest prophet whose gospels are enunciated, extravagant, elegant, and epic in execution. Its girth gleams a bit even at the muddy malady of the heavens. The sun does at its best to shine through the miserable murky cloud-roaming canvas. Several long lean ribbons of hissing mist gather around the now luminous lacerating length; their choir song, only the coming of a twister can perhaps produce it.

Yards become inches and—darkest tidings upon the wicked!

Upon a pronounced pause of foot-flight, the ferocious fang danced in a wide vigorous sweep, right to left. F l a s h ! It brought with it the cruel crackling of thunder and divine fury disguised as a moment of blinding radiance and the air looking quite like a slender beam of glass so soon for eyes to catch as a hummingbird flapped its swings only a few times. The twelve nearest armored atrocities are knocked back and off their feet! Tossed like boulders to then fumbling away, they were! The ranks behind them and the ones after are left to unconditionally commit to a horrible pile-on. Evil eyes widened in shock from this surprise of inconvenience that would surely bring them searing pain and great disadvantage.

Rage is but a few vices boiling within the man in grey whose latest act was quite the sight to see. The valiant fellow with a corpse-like visage, he was once decent-looking. But belay even the faintest consideration of vanity. Duty is alive and antagonistic upon who this lone swordsman is up against, so damn many of them ahead.

But alone, oh heavens, no, he is not. Seconds after the sword concluded drawing first blood, allies with their own steel, stone, and skill follow as a long row of riveting ruthlessness. Dirt and scars on their faces, young and old, either barely bathed in battle before this momentous present or perhaps too many. They were behind him, brewing many musings not limited to just concern for the good folks who this terrible tide they must hold back from. They ache to sink their wrath upon the horde. Give them a thrashing of a lifetime that if some do survive this drastic debacle, a twitch of thought from this savage skirmish will make their nerves cuddle with the bitter bite of a sudden winter.

Slash, slam, stab, even stray forth several arrows, the rest soon do! Crisp the thuds are of battering limbs, whether flesh or steel or stone. Give kindness no quarter! Snarls of the mad are met with bold roars of voices who can fathom and even wield reason. Iron and steel, even rock and bone-craft, all bring together a rich symphony in deathly duets and barbaric bands!

Swords sing and scorn! Daggers dash, dive and dig! Warhammers wail and wallop! Halberds hurl and hack! Spears sweep and skewer! Arrows advance, airborne and agile! Shields shun short-tempered showmanships! Snatch a limb away from a blundering bulk of the next available cretinous foul-folk but the latter does rebut in terrible kind! Aim for where the armor is thin or none at all. Heads may roll, some already do! Give grief to what poor footing is brought the misfortune of being caught by each lifeless tumbling. Pluck out those pearls for peering ahead and around.

The man in grey waltzes with his gospel-bringing friend against the island of sprightly evil around him and his comrades. Take heavy heed upon an ally in a moment of great bother, so close for their lovely eyes in being gouged by something ill and perhaps fatal. Swing up with some discipline! Release another glass-like wind to fly forth towards the foe who has the friend near the brink of being escorted away by the Reaper.

S l a m ! Its helmet rings with a harsh thud. The assault was swiftly interrupted. Eyes swing left and right like a pair of little pendulum balls. Even cretins behind it got hurled away from leftover trauma of divine aggression. The friend is free and soon delivers a lethal stab to the neck with her sharp steel shorter than what the man in grey is carrying with him. Nod quickly a gratitude. Celebrations can wait. Duty must be satiated.

Rage on, great battle. Rage far past birth. Fill these foul fields with fury, out of wrath or mirth. Each pernicious party must prove its worth. Clash proudly like two storms, predators and protectors of the earth!

 
 

 

 

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