Lordt, The Chivalry Chronicles. “You…Bastard”

The Mason Order thought that we would just roll over without a word and that they could pass through without so much as a “by your leave”. And to be fair, they were nearly right save for the might of my sword arm matched with that of my companion’s.

A small team of elite knights stood assembled at our command. The task, simple; to drive thee enemy back.

They would not take the Dark Forest. Not today, nor ever, for our blades were keen and hair and chests well oiled.

My companion strode out in front with a huge battle cry as the enemy made their way up the small hill. Claymore in hand he began to cut a path through the Mason ranks. I stepped up beside him wielding a huge double headed axe or war. Much blood was shed.

Proud knights all around screamed in pain as lifeblood fountained around us like cheap champagne.

But the battle as turning, we had them on the ropes and their ranks were thinning. That was, until the reinforcements came.

Heavily outnumbered my companion called back to rally what troops we had left, and I summoned upon strength from deep within and began a frenzy of maiming and back-chatting. My huge axe worked in unison with my companion’s claymore and as our own ranks dwindled we brought the fight to the enemy.

Limbs lay about like so many spent matches, and the rain poured as though the heavens themselves had it against us.

The final wave approached.

A quick look to my left saw us being flanked as the last of our command was hacked to pieces. Those damn archers had been picking men off piecemeal.

Well, no longer.

We ran head-on into the remaining strength of the enemy, swinging left to right. Archers, surprised by our charge, choked as weasands were flayed open and skulls were duly stoved.

I took point, carving huge swathes as I swung large strokes with my axe. I cheered in wild exhilaration as my steel met the last of the enemies number, a wounding blow no less, and as I swung back to wind up for the coup de grace I shouted to mine companion in triumph and felt a sudden resistance.

“You…bastard”…I heard him gargle in response. A strange comment considering our victory, I thought.

However, as it turned out, the backstroke of my over-sized double headed broad-axe had unknowingly embedded itself into the chest cavity of my age old companion. And in a heap he lay.

And still the rain came down.

~Lordt

November 3, 2013 0

Lordt, The Minecraft Chronicles. “Nobody touch anything, step on anything or even move”

The three of us had decided to investigate an intriguing temple in the middle of a typical desert.

Upon entry it was apparent the structure was old, yet not untouched. Marks in the dust indicated that others had been here, recently, perhaps…though we will never know.

As we entered my eyes were immediately drawn to an intricate coloured pattern on the flooring. Without thought I went in for a closer look.

Only by the grace of my colleague did I avoid disaster and an untimely end as he shouted “Nobody touch anything, step on anything or even move!”, as I stood with one foot above a blue coloured block which began to crumble away. Beneath was drop of about a hundred feet or so. It had been a narrow escape.

I tried to concentrate on not doing anything else stupid, but I couldn’t help but stare further into the gloom of the abyss and…and…yes…a chest!

“Hey guys…come have a look!” I waved them over and we each to a turn to salivate forthwith.

Moments later my companions went to work trying to find a safe way down.

Meanwhile I decided to walk around and check out stuff of my own. It was then I noticed the window. Outside I could see dozens of zombies and skeletons filing towards the temple. The sun had gone down.

How long had we been here?

“Guys!” They rushed over and we decided to barricade ourselves into the temple, sealing all exits and buying us as much time as we needed to figure out the puzzle before daylight arrived to polish off the bad guys.

Now where to begin…

As my companions ferreted around trying to find clues as to a way down into the temple I had other ideas, and they came in the form of a chest. My chief concern was that I wanted to get to the chest first and take everything before either of my companions got a look in. What self respecting lewtocalypse wouldn’t?

I removed some barricades from the door and then backed away into a corner. The zombies piled in by the droves.

My companions noticed and drew swords, hacking and slashing to stay alive. It was all the distraction I needed.

Pickaxe out. Dig straight down. And away we go…chest, come to papa.

Now this is when things get a little vague, if not predictable.

As I was about half way down the stonework of the drop and heard the battle above picking up pace, and it sounded like my companions were winning. They would soon no doubt wonder where I was, and that meant sharing the loot. I had to move quickly. Without further delay I made a beeline for the chest, and not only did I tunnel through stone, I tunneled through a carpet of TNT set as a trap.

KABOOM!!!

About 10 seconds passed and I stood in a chamber at least twice as big as before.

Nothing was left. No enemies, no temple and most importantly no God damn chest!

I slowly looked up at my companions above me as the stonework fell about them in dribs and drabs. Impressed, they looked not.

“Did you…Just try to open the chest?” one of them asked.

I had no response other than a shit eating grin as I tucked my chin into my neck and pretended I had merely been mining stone the whole time.

HOW WAS I EVEN STILL ALIVE?!

~Lordt

September 30, 2013 0

Lordt, The Splinter Cell Chronicles. “Breathing Lead”

My partner and I were holed up in a small compound overlooking the entrance to an opium den. Whichever way we looked guards milled about as though it was the annual meeting of guards anonymous. And to make matters worse, we had packed light, prepared for stealth, not all out war. Even I didn’t have my trusty grenades with me and I looked longingly at my bandoleer where they used to be. In their place sat a shitty EMP grenade…good for nothing right now. We had a hand gun each and a silenced snub nosed SMG; paltry fayre against what we faced.

Still…it was time.

We butted up against a barrier next to a nearby guard and my partner beat me to it as he leaned over and dragged the guy behind the cover, at which point we stamped him into the ground as though he were a spent cigarette. Not exactly stealthy, but it helped relieve some of the frustration at not having the proper gear.

My partner was convinced we could get through unnoticed, but I knew otherwise as I winged the chain holding a gas canister above a group of heavily armed guards. Seconds later the guards were vaporized and my companion and I were reamed from all angles by all and sundry as they promtly located our position.

Must try harder.

We approached the first guard and dragged him over the scenery again, this time slitting his throat to save on energy. Then we waited. Those guards under the canister weren’t going anywhere, though we could use a little distraction, but perhaps not in the form of enormous explosions.

My partner slipped off right and took down another guard, using his left hand to shoot a third who had spotted him. Good work.

I peeled off left and blundered into a room full of guys. My SMG was out quicker than a New York minute and I was hosing the area at hip height in a panic. I cleared the room only to peer outside at the pulp that was my partner since I had alerted the enemy.

Must try harder still.

Once again our olde chum was leaning up against the barrier nearby. I thought I’d save some time by shooting him in the back of the head, only I missed, clippingthe canister in the background again. The rest is history.

Must try harder…but not quite so hard.

“I’ll take the guy this time” suggested my partner. I let him.

He then went right and I followed as he took down the other two guards.

For no reason, I dropped a few electro-proximity mines for good measure. We rounded a barricade and hunkered down. 3 more guards waited. I shot one in the back of the head with my silenced pistol before moving on to choke out the second. The third however was a heavy and sadly, just as my partner was about to engage the guy he tripped my mine which shocked half a dozen men in the area, most of which were heavies who then responded with a hail of bullets so thick my partner described it as like “breathing lead”.

Sigh.

I’d had enough of this. I ran at the first guy who saw me instantly and shot me in the face.

Must try again…

This time, a tear gas grenade.

It served its purpose, that is, if its purpose was to annoy the fuck out of the guards and cause them to return fire with heavy machine guns and frag grenades. Two fresh bodies lay upon the ground . Our fresh bodies to be precise.

Sigh.

“Look”…said my partner. “Relax. We need to get around them, then take down the heavies and try to grab a shield or two”. I nodded in response, promptly ignoring the advice and running at the first guard who once again shot me in the face.

My partner looked at me in disbelief. “This must be the worst kind of groundhog day” he said.

I ignored him and tried once more, this time creeping in behind the barrier and slitting the throat of the first guard.

Perfect.

“Right, good” said my partner, before peeling right take out guards two and three. This time we were on a roll. I moved left, smoothly took out the guys in the building and then for no reason threw a tear gas grenade into the back of a truck where a guy had sat oblivious up until that point.

I followed up the maneuver with a few clips from the ole’ SMG before running out of bullets and picking up an un-silenced AK47 from one of the dead guards, effectively having now “gone loud”.

The AK didn’t have much ammo left and after a couple of guys with shields blocked most of the spray I was boned. I spun, clipped a canister or two and ran pell-mell back to our start point, grabbing the limp body of my companion on the way. The place was like a fucking warzone yet again and it wasn’t long before the pair of us ended up resembling and matching set of human colanders.

———————–

GAME PAUSED.

———————–

My mate slowly, but surely turned toward me. I wondered what was coming. A few stern words, a punch perhaps, maybe even a two fingered salute.

He gestured to the bathroom next door.

“Get in there and GO AND HAVE A FUCKING WANK”

~lordt

September 14, 2013 0

Lordt, The Call of Duty Chronicles. “Don’t Draw Too Much Attention”

We had been sent in to deliver a payload to some enemy aircraft.

The visibility was shit, but conveniently someone had left us an array of weapons to choose from on a mat by our feet. Now that’s service.

A glare from my companion indicated that if I chose anything other than a sensible, silenced handgun or rifle, there would be trouble.

I lay down the RPG.

A harsh whisper in my ear… “It’s a fucking stealth mission you keeyaahnt”. He nodded to his own gun, which sported a sonar plotting device on it and a silencer the size of Bigfoot’s dick.

I nodded in recognition, reaching down and picking up a silenced handgun. As my partner edged forward into the compound I picked up a heavy machine gun with a shit eating grin. He’d never know until it was too late. Besides, it might come in handy. Whilst I was there I pocketed a few grenades as well. And then thought twice and replaced the handgun with a snub-nosed Uzi. I then went back and grabbed a second one.

As I waddled up to my companion, who was peering round a corner surveying the scene, a gruff Scottish voice came through our earpieces.

“THERE IS A REASON WE BROUGHT THE SILENCERS YOU KNOW”

My companion spun in place and looked in horror at the arsenal I was carrying.

“Busted”, he said.

I went back to the mat with my tail between my legs before rejoining my companion with a suitably silenced rifle and handgun. Boring.

I couldn’t see a lot in the blizzard and as I tromped round the corner he pulled me back by the scruff of the neck just in time for a guard to walk past us. I had almost blundered right into him…

I cleared my throat.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, reaching for my grenades.

“We need to get to those planes without drawing too much attention, and then deliver the payload.”

I stopped reaching for my grenades.

We took a moment to look at the sonar. The encampment was chock full of soldiers.

I began reaching for my grenades, but my companion was off and before I knew it the slumped body of the nearby guard was placed at my feet.

The snow was making everything unclear, and I couldn’t tell if my companion was walking into a trap or not, but I guessed his sonar would alert him. As he disappeared into the whiteout, I decided to take up residence with my sniper rifle and “Watch his back”.

Just then a Jeep rounded a corner in the direction he had gone…

“Don’t draw too much attention…don’t draw too much attention…there is a reason we brought the silencers”.

These thoughts kept crossing my mind.

But my partner…He was surrounded. I was surrounded. We were all surrounded!

Before I knew it I had pulled the pin, and what had once seemed to be a rather inconspicuous fuel truck near the runway soon became a great big fuel truck sized target.

Seconds later everyone was deaf, blind and burning. This included myself and my partner and a couple of plane spotters there for a peaceful day out.

Soap was shrieking down the earpiece as wave after wave of fresh guards turned on our position. I ran in with olde painless and pulled my companion from the flames. He reached up for support but unfortunately pulled on a small cluster of grenades dangling from my flak jacket.

I supposed you could say we had completed the mission, as no aircraft remained. On the other hand, the fact that this memoir is written from 6 feet under could possibly warrant a mission F.A.I.L.

Either way, I was just disappointed I didn’t get to use the dual snub-nosed Uzi’s.

~Lordt

September 5, 2013 1

Lordt, the Splinter Cell Chronicles. “DO. YOU. MIND. NOT. USING. INCENDIARY. GRENADES. AROUND. THE. NUCLEAR. DEVICE?”

Sam and I had been assigned to thwart a smuggling operation on the Pakistani border. The word was that someone was moving a nuke.

Orders were to gain Intel and progress when/if required, with obvious due caution.

Another stipulation, one that would prove difficult, was to avoid detection at all costs.

After taking out the perimeter guards we could see the smugglers encampment at the foot of the cliffs we stood upon.

Sam and I wasted no time in our approach as we shimmied across the rock face from a stomach churning height. It was best not to think of it, really. Besides, there was only one way in, and this was it.

Since this was primarily a stealth operation we had packed light. However, I still couldn’t help bringing a few “small arms” in the form of my fully tricked out, un-silenced, assault rifle and brimming bandoleer of assorted grenades and accompanying gadgets.

As Sam began his descent I decided to continue on around the cliff face to quarter the area. There were guards below; lots of guards.

I saw Sam drop abruptly in my peripheral vision and knew that he had most likely landed on some poor sod who was taking a piss or some such activity.

I began my descent too, in case he needed backup.

I dropped behind a truck and saw Sam disappear into he shadows to my right. I’d go left, and together we could survey the area, providing we weren’t noticed.

Five minutes must have passed, slowly creeping forwards at the correct intervals. I’d gone round about 8 guards by now, all talking utter bollocks. If we could just get to the other end of the compound…

I’d nearly made it when I turned to see how Sam was progressing. He was in the centre of the area, hunkered down to avoid detection from a cluster of men. But as I waited I saw it…

About 40 feet away from where I crouched I noticed a small canister propped up against a vehicle. And I don’t know why I shot it, but I shot it.

The whole encampment erupted in flames and gunfire as the canister blew up with surprising aplomb.

I remained crouched with my jaw open as suddenly Sam was lit up like a Christmas tree and riddled with bullets. I honestly believe that had the canister not engulfed so many of the smugglers in flames Sam would have bought it.

Regaining myself I pulled out old painless and laid into the smugglers. They were unarmoured and the bullets went through them like curry through a week old baby.

I grabbed Sam and administered adrenaline. I think he was still choking someone out even as I did this…

As the smoke settled we realized the element of surprise was beyond us. Voron would be onto us now.

We sprinted for the compound and I was horrified at the shrieking noise the shutter made on the side of the building as we entered. I let Sam do the heavy lifting since he was weak and full of bullets.

Inside we took a moment. Sam looked at me with a severe expression.

“Did you shoot a canister?”

My lack of response was telling.

“Why?” he asked.

“I just wanted to see what it would do…” was all I could think of saying, since it was the truth.

He sighed, but the moment took a sinister turn.

Before us lay a nuke; we had to disable it.

A few rag-tag- dog-on-a-bone type guards barred our way, soon choked out by Sam, and before long the pass codes were ours and the nuke deactivated forthwith, that was, until Voron hoved into view.

“Voron!” cried Sam and we bolted, but we didn’t get far.

It had come to this, a firefight against elite operatives in a confined space occupied by an exposed nuclear warhead.

Naturally, I threw a few grenades.

The room filled with fire, shrapnel, smoke and body parts, then more fire and bullets.

Somewhere underneath it all I could hear Sam shouting down my earpiece through gritted teeth.

“DO. YOU. MIND. NOT. USING. INCENDIARY. GRENADES. AROUND. THE. NUCLEAR. DEVICE?”

He was very polite.

Voron, on the other hand, were dead.

~Lordt

August 28, 2013 0

Lordt, The Skyrim Chronicles. “I Know That Shape”

I’d come through the back door of the East Empire Trading Company Warehouse. That is not a euphemism.

For once I’d been quiet. Lucien Lachance, however, had other ideas.

After entering through the grotto and dispatching a few paltry spiders, Lachance and I “chanced” upon a secret warehouse choc-full of chests and various other crates and wares. I had hoped for some cigars, but it was not to be.

Needless to say I took a moment to examine each chest thoroughly as Lachance proceeded to ask me for the fiftieth time if I’d heard the tale of Mathieu Bellamont.

As it happens, I had.

Walking became difficult as my pockets began to bulge with coin and gems recently acquired from said chests. I had considered putting some of the coins back to aid my stealth…and that’s when I woke up.

The East Empire Trading Company’s warehouse was decidedly quiet, and I wondered if we were about to be ambushed, so I took things slow.

Lanchance on the other hand strode right on out into the open announcing clearly that he “Lived again”.

Seconds later, steel was drawn and what had so far been a smooth operation turned into a somewhat boring, yet familiar situation. Namely one in which Lachance became riddled with arrows and I employed my best Linford Christie impersonation.

As I burst through the main doors of the warehouse onto the decking of the Solitude docks a character I had come to know as Deeja blocked my way.

No questions asked I shot her in the knee and ran past as if my life depended on it. As it happened, it did.

I was mildly miffed as I sprinted due to a few coins spilling across the decking. I skidded to a stop to collect them up but was nearly pinned to the spot by bow fire.

Deeja had regained herself and made her way towards me. Soiling myself I turned and ran again as a hail of arrows dropped out of the sky towards me.

Without thought I executed a perfect swan dive into the water and let my momentum and angle take me down. I heard the muffled impact arrows as they struck the water around me, but I was safe, though I couldn’t see a thing.

BUMP.

I’d hit the bottom of the riverbed.

Or had I?

I know that shape…I thought to myself.

As it turned out, my “Lewt-dar” was obviously turned up to 11 as I ran my fingers across the familiar shape and texture of an olde oaken chest.

What luck.

Despite running short on breath I prized the lid open and retrieved a tidy sum from within before fucking off up the other side of the river bank.

Next time, though, I’ll wear a less tight fitting codpiece.

~Lordt

July 30, 2013 0

Lordt, The Minecraft Chronicles. “Now, Use This Wisely”

We woke up in the middle of nowhere. To be more precise it was more of a grassy knoll in the middle of nowhere.

There were trees in every direction and mountains on the horizon. Lush streams formed crystalline lakes and animals roamed free. The world was our oyster.

Taking a look around I began to notice the sun slowly set in the background and the hilltops began to glow in the twilight.

It was at this point I also noticed a throng of armed skeletons heading our way.

“Run!” I cried. But running did no good as they had bows and arrows and were using them liberally in our general direction.

“Hide!” I cried, but there was nowhere to hide…

“Dig!” I cried, but our efforts only lead to a cavern full of yet more skeletons.

This was beginning to develop into a really tedious situation.

“Build!” my companion suggested.

And thus, our first night on this virgin world was spent huddled on a 1 by 1 metre squared chunk of earth about 60 or so feet in the air.

It began to rain.

I’m glad it rained, as due to the skeletons that loomed in the darkness, I had once again soiled myself with particular vigour.

It was a long night.

As the rain eased I wrung out my trousers and eagerly awaited the arrival of the sun, which wasted no time in presenting itself fully to the host of beasts below. They combusted forthwith.

We had survived our first night.

Next on the menu was to set up home. We couldn’t risk another night trapped in the wilderness and so we dug into the side of a rock face overlooking a large pool. I suppose in our minds this created some form of natural moat. The reality being it merely blocked our escape.

As my partner chiselled away I began arranging area of the crude rooms he had carved. We got into an argument, however, after I boxed him in with some granite be accident, nearly suffocating him in the process.

Later that night we saw the creatures return, except this time we had the last laugh due to our well-constructed abode. The laughter was short-lived as whilst trying to open the door to take a look outside I accidently managed to destroy it, using up the last of our wood resources in the process.

Another night was spent in fear huddled around a crude torch we had fashioned from some sticks and coal. The creatures didn’t seem to enjoy light, and it did the trick until morning where I received specific instructions to never touch anything ever again.

The weeks passed much as the previous days. I learnt a few skills and managed not to destroy our first home, but as time passed we decided that home just wasn’t home unless it was a fucking castle.

We built high, strong and long until our castle was a fortress to behold. No creatures of the night would dare threaten our might now and soon, with the right gear, we would take the fight to them.

It was some time before my partner stumbled upon a metal seam. How we rejoiced. Real weapons and armour at last! If only there was more of it…

“Now, use this wisely” my companion explained as he smelted down another piece of ore into a fine ingot.

I nodded, though I’m not sure why.

As the days wore on we amassed enough metal to fully arm ourselves against the foes without, but then something caught my eye…

We were mining deep, stocking up on spare ore in case we needed repairs on our gear, when a golden glint formed a smirk on my lips.

Sadly, it didn’t take long for my partner to notice too and he gasped, realising we were stood on top of a seam of purest gold.

Together we mined the precious ore until we had amassed a small amount to lead riches to our cause.

Around the fire that night, my companion spoke.

“Gold. We can do so much with it. Circuitry, tracks, ornaments. There is the wealth too…” He looked up to the stars as he imagined we might create, if not today, then tomorrow.

How sad for him to awake the next morning to an empty stash.

The door to my chamber opened. More specifically, it flew of the hinges.

“All right, where is the…!?”

In the doorway stood my companion, agape.

In the centre of my chamber, stood I, clad head to foot in golden armour. The ensemble was set off by my gold broadsword with a few ingots strewn around the room for good measure.

There was a moment’s pause before my companion spoke.

“You’re an anus”.

~Lordt

July 23, 2013 0

Lordt, The Skyrim Chronicles. “Poor Olde Titus Mede II”

Poor olde Titus Mede II.

I had learnt of his whereabouts via Amaund Motierre, the spineless goon. For some tiresome reason or another, the fellow wanted the Emperor dead. I merely replied that if the price was right, not only would I kill the Emperor (As I did his cousin Vittoria – But that’s another story), I would also perform the task wearing a gimp mask and matching leather briefs.

As it turned out, the latter was not required but the coin was good enough for me to accept the contract.

I knew it wouldn’t be easy, so I took my best man, Marcurio. When I say best man, I mean, only man. Stenvar, my previous companion had bought it during another adventure after proving he was indeed the buffoon we all had him down to be. Lydia I left in the kitchen still trying to make a decent broth.

On a side note, not only will I mention that Lydia is incapable of preparing a simple stew, but she insists on standing unerring close whilst trying to have a conversation. One of these days I’m sorely tempted to throw her into a deep ravine or perhaps even off the top of High Hrothgar.

I digress…

After a wet start to the campaign I reached the ship and proceeded up the anchor chain into the stern, brutalizing any guards that happened to be in my way.

I decided the only decent thing to do was to strip them naked and piled them high.

I made my way below deck with Marcurio in tow, clunking around like the Tin Man on acid. Honestly, I don’t know why I bothered trying to remain quiet.

I saw something up ahead and told Marcurio to hold fast whilst I went to investigate. A rogue sailor was moving from bunk to bunk slitting the throats of innocent guardsmen whilst they slept. I stood back and admired the spectacle wondering on how he reminded me of a young me back in the day.

I crept low and quiet behind the sailor, lifting a coin purse from each of the dead guards. Once he had finished his rounds I simply turned the knife on the man himself, catching him before he fell and then deciding to let him fall.

The sound surprised Marcurio and he bowled into the room, spilling bedpans all over the show. I decided to move on as loitering in a room slick with faeces and blood was not my idea of a good time.

The men on the next deck were wise to us and the second I moved up the stairs I received a haircut.

A short back and sides wasn’t exactly what I was going for but it’s what I got. After that Marcurio nearly burnt the ship down setting the Penitus Oculatus soldiers on fire.

After rolling the dead corpses around on the floor for a few minutes to douse the flames I warned Macrurio that any more of his shenanigans and I would be bunging up the latrine with his scrotum forthwith.

I had some success down the next corridor where I found Lieutenant Salvarus aimlessly studying an olde map. Someone should have told him it was a tea towel covered in urine.

Needless to say I slit his throat before he could raise the alarm.

Sadly, Marcurio had raised the alarm and the place filled with men at arms, including Captain Avidius himself. The captain turned out to be one hard bastard so I left him to Marcurio whilst I mopped up the lewt from Salvarus. It turned out he had the key I needed to the Emperors quarters. I say needed, but I could probably have picked it if I could have been bothered, which I couldn’t.

With everyone dead and a coin purse bulging with, well, coin, my spirits were high. Marcurio’s shit-eating grin on the other hand soured my mood and I made him knock on the door to the Emperors’ quarters. I wanted any traps that might be set off aimed at him and him only.

No response was forthcoming from the room, but a swift peek through the ‘ol keyhole afforded me a clear view of the Emperor quivering in his throne.

I considered a number of possibilities on how to approach the situation, including diplomacy. Perhaps he would offer me a bribe…

I kicked open the door and before Emperor Titus Mead II could even fully inhale to begin to speak an arrow shaft protruded from his eye socket.

Seconds later I was wearing his robes and spending his gold Solitude.

What a pleasant afternoon.

And Marcurio? My warning was duly noted and his scrotum remains stretched over the ships second deck shitter to this day.

~Lordt

July 15, 2013 0

Lordt, The Conflict: Denied Ops Chronicles. “Communication Issues”.

General Ramirez had led his reign of terror for too long.

This time, Lang and I had him like an animal in a cage.

The problem was that about a cool half century of your typical stock men-at-arms and a few heavies stood in our way.

We’d been fighting all day to get this far and I wasn’t sure we’d make it due to Lang taking more than his fair share of damage from some of my frags. Well, he just got in the way…

I broke out olde painless and let rip. I then began to fire the gun.

Graves took up a decent position to begin his sniping work, but I made a mockery of that as I filled the area with smoke grenades and yet more frags.

I then relieved a few corpses of their grenades before adding them to the mix.

I looked up to see Lang staring at me.

“WOULD you stop?” he asked behind gritted teeth.

I was out of grenades anyway.

By now half the army were dead, but half our cover was also gone thanks to your truly.

Lang hit the deck as an RPG flew overhead.

“RPG!” I called out after the event.

We began mowing the area as a solid team; Three to four head shots on one man for Lang to take them down, occasional spray and pray winging hits from myself murdering anything I looked at.

Ramirez was here somewhere.

A tank burst through the gates to our right, and I’ll be honest, I touched cloth.

I looked over at Lang and saw him flick last night’s curry out the bottom of his combat trousers.

In a fit of hysterics I blew up every canister I could see, taking away any potential collateral damage in seconds.

The look on Lang’s face led me to believe he had banked on using some of those canisters to take down said approaching tank.

The wall next to me exploded and more men hoved round the corner.

I welded my finger to the trigger.

As I cut through the enemy, Lang shouted my way.

“One thing…gotta remember…when we reach Ramirez…kill him”

“Yeh yeh, I got it!” I replied over the noise of my machine gun and mounted grenade launcher. I smirked as I noticed Lang wonder where thee fuck I got those extra ‘nades from. I hope he didn’t check his pack…

Besides, the tank was on to us now and I ran for a rocket launcher conveniently propped up by a nearby wall. Nobody seemed to care about Lang at this point and I was summarily reamed by all and sundry.

Scrambling to my feet Lang cleared the area with some well place head shots and I loosed rockets at the tank.

As luck would have it, it exploded.

The remaining soldiers lost their courage and we bolted through the courtyard, keen to catch up with Ramirez. He couldn’t be far…

“He went in there!” cried Lang, pointing towards a nearby villa.

We burst in like movie stars, hosing the area at will and clearing each mantelpiece of all chinaware and priceless ornaments. I noticed a sidelong glance from Lang as he waited to see if I was about to produce another grenade.

I didn’t.

We saw Ramirez run into the next room And gave chase. Lang was just behind; reloading his gun with the calm confidence of a man who knows his quarry is going nowhere.

As he walked into the next room I saw anger flare in his eyes, as opposed to the raised high five and/pr fist bump I had been expecting.

Ramirez lay slumped in the corner of the room with a bullet through his head.

Lang left me hanging.

“I said DON’T kill him”.

~Lordt

July 14, 2013 0

Lordt, The Skyrim Chronicles. “Lightning the Coinpurse”

It was any ordinary day in Whiterun, except things were about to get a little odd.

I recently had lunch with the Greybeards up on High, and they had taught me a thing or two about fucking shit up, one way or another.

Their first mistake was assuming that I would use such powers responsibly. Their second mistake was actually going so far as to teach me said powers. Their third mistake was leaving me alive.

After blasting Lydia off the top balcony on High Hrothgar, I felt much better about myself without that nagging cook following me around all day without so much as a moment’s slap and tickle.

So I made my own way to Whiterun in search of a new henchman, and perhaps drain an ale or two whilst I was there. If my luck was really in I’d find a few coin purses to empty as well, including my own.

It was a bright afternoon and I was bored of waiting around for a likely henchman to present himself, and I was also sick and tired of the olde man in the corner of the tavern presenting himself.

I stepped outside and my eyes turned to pinpricks as the sun blinded me after being indoors for so long. Somewhere between then and my retinas becoming normal again, I heard a few screams followed by the impression of a large shadow across the ground in front of me.

I looked up, squinting, and realized we were all boned. A dragon loomed large as life above the City and had decided that we were all on the afternoon’s menu.

I deftly stepped inside a shop to conduct some last minute, pressing business hoping that by the time I reemerged the dragon would be long gone and I could finish my ale.

No such luck.

After lingering in the shop for twenty minutes the shopkeeper insisted I leave and at the very least help mop up the body parts in the town square.

Outside I received quite a shock. The local militia had massed and was giving the dragon a run for its money. Perhaps I would stick around after all…the dragon bones could fetch a pretty penny in the next town and if I could get in there quick…

A cry went up. A small child was torn in half and half again. This caused the militia to disperse in fright and I was left standing in the courtyard on my own.

My training.

What the Greybeards had taught me was sacred lore entrusted to only best. I was privy to this knowledge. I was amoung the best.

I thought hard. What incantation to use?

As I looked up I realized what I had to do. I squinted again thanks to that damn Sun. Yet it was my inspiration.

I called a storm so powerful and so fierce that the dragon would flee before me as I commanded the elements of wind and water, with a healthy dose of lighting wagered into the bargain for good measure.

I was on song with the incantation and soon the clouds rolled in and the Sun finally fucked off.

A fork of lightning played across the sky, dazzling mine eyes and distracting the dragon as it struggled to hover against the rising wind.

My clothes became drenched, my hair became mussed. I cared not.

And then I heard the screams.

Confused, I assumed they were shrieks of joy as I clearly had the upper hand against the dragon. But I was wrong, so wrong.

All those outside who were gawking at the spectacle now stood as rigid skeletons whilst lightning played about the courtyard. Fork after fork jumped from shopkeeper, to townsfolk, to soldier…women and children alike. The Greybeards had not taught me how to stop the spell…Twats.

I can see the conversation now. “What if someone wants to stop the spell?” “Oh, why would anyone want to do that? Uhohohaha. More Brandy?”…

The water just made it worse…so much worse. I covered my nose as the smell of charred flesh wafted across the courtyard. I backed away under the canopy of the smithy and waited out the remnants of the storm.

Before long the skies reverted back to the clear summer’s day they had been only minutes before.

The dragon was gone. Everybody was dead.

I looked around at the bodies, many with jackets and trousers sundered open.

Seeing no survivors I concluded that not only had I repelled the dragon, but I had inadvertently just made some tidy coin as well.

Not bad.

~Lordt

July 5, 2013 2

The Resplendent Chest – Lewtocalypse Garb