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ParisParis Hilton, Death sighed dejectedly. Can you believe it? Paris fucking Hilton, shifting in his seat, he set the beer can on the arm of his lawn chair and slumped when Famine leaned toward him.
You goin to finish that beer? Death waved his hand at him absently and Famines skeletal fingers snatched the can from its resting place.
I cant believe it. I mean, of all the people. Paris Hilton, Christ, where did I go wrong with her? Death stared distantly out over his yellowed lawn, blocking out the sound of Wars son and Pestilences daughters fight over the last hot dog. The yearly B.B.Q just didnt seem the same now that most of the kids had grown up.
I dunno Death Famine up ended the beer greedily, slamming the empty beer can down after finishing it quickly. Yknow how kids are.
Yeah, I guess so. But man, of all the god damn people to look up to
ReflectionsVal's pursuit led him to the foul beast's domain. The hollowed-out cavern reeked of blood and rancid meat. The dim light he had seen as he charged through the tunnel after the monster could now be identified: torches. Rows of mysteriously lit torches lined the walls of the huge cave. At its center was a substantially large labyrinth of mirrors.
He spotted the beast entering.
He spun his silver broadsword in his hand and hurried in behind it.
His garb was a simple blue and white crusader's leather with thick armored pads and reinforcing steel studs. Lightweight and flexible, but quite effective defense against blunt blows and – in a pinch – the slashing claws of the unholy spawn of the earth. All monster-hunters wore a similar variety in Val's experience. It would serve him well in these close quarters of the mirrored maze.
Right, left, forward, left, right he turned, always catching a glimpse of the beast's tail as he wove his way through the corridors. Every so often he sp
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