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[PK] A Light, Pierced

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OST

Spoiler

 



Flames roared as Kit-Kat Gardner threw a brief glance behind her to face the incoming onslaught of demonic insects. She’d seen her fair share of swarms of bugs before, but this...was something else entirely. They were the size of dwarves--stingers and wings bigger than her own weapon that her father had passed down to her. As she ran towards the shore where the remains of ships lay floating in the water, she noticed the buzzing of one of the inferi creatures growing louder behind her--soon that stinger would be making contact if she did nothing about it.

 

The girl heard a loud rumbling followed by the KRAK of some unfortunate soul’s skeleton as the ground shook beneath her; something, although she didn’t know what, had crashed down behind her. She turned her head and realized she was face-to-face with one of those accursed insects she had seen. The horrifying creature shot forward, and the halfling hopped backwards and swung her shovel-axe at the creature, parrying the blow as she steadied herself and continued to run.

 

The sounds of battle had become deafening, yet unnoticeable. Screams of pain, leaders shouting orders on both sides, the ear-piercing buzzing of the demon-bugs, and so much more flooded her ears. Nevertheless she kept running, veering to the left as a group of five inferi bugs aimed their stingers towards her.

 

Kit heard a loud clink as the stinger of one of these inferi struck her pauldron--followed by another tearing through her cape, two attacking her torso and upper left arm respectively, and one last creature had yet to strike. Pain quickly shot through the girl’s nerves as her armor and dress were pierced by the stingers, as these unholy abominations ate through her flesh and bone. The halfling screamed in agony as she collapsed on the ground--still fighting despite the skin of her right arm having fallen onto the ground beside her.

 

According to those who saw the hellish battle’s end, that’s how Kit-Kat Gardner died. Fighting.

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Armilas Draconis watched in horror as Kit-Kat was consumed by the swarm, Boris Oceantoe screaming at the top of his lungs. He could do nothing anymore but get Boris out of there. Get to safety.

Edited by VWebb
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”Yeh know, maybeh goin’ ter figh’ Demons as ah bunch o’ wee fellas was ah BAD idea.” Thinks Filibert as he stands inside of a sea of fire with his wife.

2020-09-26_16.46.55.png

”Ain’ doin’ t’is crud again...”

He’d eventually leave the battlefield along with his wife, escaping along the coastline and sailing back to Brandybrook on a canoe. Their medical supplies weren’t of much use when everybody who got hurt either died instantly or never left the front line for assistance.

 

It was a horrible day to be a halfling.

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Andon lets out a blood curling scream of pure misery as he now knows hes truly alone. No more being for each other when times got rough. No more day brightening smiles to be shared with one another. No more memories to be created or shared. He now knows he is truly and utterly alone.

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Anne sits on the beach after learning of her sister death. Anne isn’t crying nor is she filled with anger. The halfling girl simply looks drained, empty, and hopeless. She sits in silence watching the waves as her word one again crumbles around her. “Alone...” Anne whispers, “take care Ki’ find Polo and uncle keep em safe. Oi’ll see yeh real soon.”

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Greta laid awake next to Filibert, her eyes staring into the darkness above. She could not sleep, not after everything that had happened. The battle alone had already drained her of any happiness she had felt in the past few days, she could not sit in silence without hearing the screams, nor close her eyes without seeing the writhing victims of malflame. She still could not believe it; another halfling had perished, and a village elder no less! She thought about Andon; he had already been depressed by the wretched state of the world; and now he had lost the love of his life. She thought about Isalie, how she had insulted the poor lady over petty political reasons; now the thain had lost two of her children. Finally, Greta thought about Anne, the brightest and kindest soul Greta had ever encountered, now torn by the death of both of her siblings; the youngest of three reduced to an only child. How was this worth it? The camp was burned, the battle was lost, what did Fred and Kit-Kat die for? If the demons can be stopped then they’ll have to be stopped without Brandybrook’s aid. And if they can’t be stopped; it is better to die together than to die separately. Filibert knew it. Greta knew it. “This war isn’t worth the cost. How many more have to die before everyone realizes that?”

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-=-

Within the darkness of an olden hovel in the far reaches of the Arcasian landscape.. a simple young lad with an array of sharp teeth snickers as he runs into his abysmal ‘home’. The burrow could be describe as somewhat of a thrown together cave in relativity to that of a normal halfling hovel, though to the little lad it’s nothing more but a beautiful space for him to train his body, mind, and soul. 

 

The little kiddo pours himself a glass of milk into a oak cup... taking a sip before then nearly spit-taking all across the nearby counter and stonewall. “BLEGH... Mastah yeh cannae leave ‘his on ou’ yaknow!” The little fellah grumbles to himself, use to the incompetency of his own form of ‘lackluster’ guardian... though something feels much stranger today. As he onlooks the simple rocking chair of his darkskinned, one eyed master... he isn’t drunk but simply onlooking a picture proudly displayed in a frame. His unkept and callused finger rubs across the cloudy glass... as a strange huff leaves his throat, as if a hardship in being able to properly breathe. A cough goes along the room, and soonafter the fellow turns his head...

”Hrmmahg... Dango?” he asks outwards to the room... unsure if he’s being buglarized or if someone is actually there. It doesn’t truly matter to him either way, the sensation of the world around him leaves the olden boomer of a weefolk with nothing but a blur. “Yeh... yeh ‘here lad?” he grumbles.. the completely unshaven and scraggily beard of his own poking out in places as he onlooks the kid.

The small youngling just simply nods. “EhhhHhh.. Mastah yeh alroigh’ ‘here eh? Yah no’ yah usual ermmm.. ‘bubbleh’-self tahday?” asks the newly adult. He simply blinks his eyes together in question. He /expects/ to walk into a room where the ebony-man details a bunch of stuff in gibberish and teaches him the next lesson he requires, though yet the oddly almost macabre seriousness which bounces across the walls could be said to be so thick a knife could cut it apart.

 

“Dango? Can yeh do meh a favor kiddo?” eventually leaves the mentor’s lips. The skin chapped and eye twinged red as he speaks.. pointing to a girl along in the photo. “Yew see ‘his girleh ‘ere eh?”

The little one looks towards the picture, quite confused as he looks at someone whom is CERTAINLY not the man before him. Two cute little twins, one rambunctious and one struggling to see properly as her face is filled with nothing but nervousness and shock. “Ehhhh... yeh?”

”Go foind ‘er. Yeh wanna save people now dontcha, aye?”
the olden man simply coughs, forced to put the picture down for a moment as wet muckus rolls alongside his throat... a disgusting fit leaving him before he tacks on “You’ve got meh trainin’... an’ yer a special kid. Gottah fulfill ‘he form of legacy he daddeh an’ yah daddeh’s daddeh left roigh’?”

”Go foind them, an bring back the smile o’ dah Weefolk, one lass at a toime”

 

-=-

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Slumped over by a bush, head in hands, Falco could barely process the news that Kit-Kat was deceased. His overwhelming emotions were not helped by the traumatised elf Armilas nearby, who repeated, Limb by limb,” with a quivering voice, over, and over. He kicked himself for not being present at the siege. He wondered how Isalie would react, and what would happen to Brandybrook’s leadership. His racing mind only stopped when he heard the voice of Anne Gardner, asking him, “Is it really true?”

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Isalie learns of the tragedy long after its done. Another of her children are gone.  She weeps. She’s confused. Why was Kit out there? Why were ANY of her people out there? Hadnt the prince promised to protect her people? Her daughter is dead. She doesnt even think of the fact that the village has lost another Elder, her baby is gone. Later, much later when Isalie has had time to grieve and heal, she’ll think fondly that her daughter died fighting for her people. But now, she weeps. She screams. She punches a wall, uses her shovel to hack at the ground. The Prince PROMISED. Aegrothrond had failed them again. No more.

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