Elven Warrior

Author: admin
© Pentix.net

My dears, believe me, it’s a terrible life being an elf. Not only do you have to fight off the mighty forces of evil armed with only the most twee weapons, but you never seem to be able to find a hairdresser when you need one.

Take this Elven Warrior affair. It was the usual tedious business: I had to find four potion bottles and return them to the cauldrons form whence they came (“From whence” – that’s the way elves are supposed to talk. In fact, we talk just like anyone else, my dears.)

Anyway, these pansy potions. According to Him Upstairs, the idea was to find them all and gain the Book of Immortality (and you can buy that at any branch of W.H. Dwarfs, as any fool knows.) But along the way there were the usual oh-so-dreary hazards to contend with: zombies, flying eyes, black knights, lizard men, deadly spikes and pits of water. My dears, my hair was simply RUINED! I suppose there was some excitement when secret doors opened and the landscapes changed each time I returned to a cauldron, but one has simply seen it all, too too often…

There were some consolations. The scenery was nice. You know, rolling hills, quaint cottages, vines to climb from level to level (when I could find them), broken-down crucifixes, dank caverns, sinister dungeons… wlll, those bits weren’t so charming. The background music was perfectly sweet, though. But the intellectual level of these zombies! I’m not sure not one of them would know Jean-Paul Gaultier from his sit-upon. I genuinely believe I was doing them a favor putting them out of their misery – shooting them with my meager supply of arrows, then swapping to more stylish weapons such as staffes and stealth axes which dispose of a handful of them without making an unsightly mess on the carpet.

Well, I might not have been able to find a hairdresser, but there were plenty of arrows, food packages and treasures along the way, and apart from tearing my tights leaping from plateau to plateau and dodging those flying eyes, mad skulls and energy balls, things could have been a lot worse.

But there must be more to life than this endless repetitious adventuring, so my friend and I are planning to run away to east-bourne and open a little tea-room. It should be a lot safer than this Elven Warrior malarkey, and about as exciting.




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