“Behold! The waterfall!” shouted the guide.
“Look, will you stop practicing your dramatic reveal!” said Magus, getting up from his patch of sand. “We’re trying to sleep! You’re loud enough to wake the dead!”
“Come on,” whined the guide. “It isn’t that bad!”
Suddenly, as it had been woken by the annoying whining of the side character, a giant desert scorpion unearthed itself from the sand.
“Told you so.”
“That was just a coincidi—ARGH!”
After impaling the guide on one of its claws, the vile beast turned his attention to Magus, who promptly ran and hid behind a rock.
“That was brave of you,” said Ærin.
“Honor is for suckers,” said Magus. “Besides, it’s not like you’re one to talk. You’re hiding too!”
“I’m not hiding, I retreated in order to loop around and flank the enemy.”
“Bah. Anyway, where’s Petrov?”
“Death to most tyrants!”
As Magus turned, he saw Petrov leaping out at the scorpion, shouting dwarvish curses all the while.
“Dammit Petrov!” shouted Magus. “Get away from that thing! You’ll get yourself killed!”
“The bigger they come, the harder they fall!” responded Petrov as he dodged a swipe of the scorpion’s tail.
“If that thing falls it’ll land on you!” shouted Magus quickly, hoping not to draw the beasts ire his way.
“All trees are felled at ground height!” said Petrov.
“Some trees are not meant to be felled!” responded Magus.
“Look, will you just help!” shouted Petrov.
“He’s right you know,” said Abda. “We can’t sneak past that thing and we’re going to need the guide’s map if we want to get out.”
“Very well,” said Magus. Then, he shouted “For death! For honor! For glory!” and with those words, the party rose out from behind the rock and attacked.
Well, most of it at any rate.
“Look,” said Magus. “I’m the mage! Never mind the giant scorpion; I would probably die if someone looked at me too hard!”
Bah! It’s just a giant desert scorpion. The worst it can do is poison you, grab your staff and then beat you to death with it.
“Why does that fail to reassure me? Anyway, how does the scorpion work?”
What do you mean, work? It has a blood and stuff, just like everything else.
“Yes,” said Magus, “but what about the square cube law?”
“When you square the size of something, you cube the stress on its materials. That scorpion’s legs should snap, and if they were large enough to hold it up, it wouldn’t be able to get enough oxygen to its legs and on.”
It’s magic. You travel around in the same group as a midget with a prehensile beard and you’re complaining about this!
“So you admit it’s magic?”
I hate you.
“Good for you. Start narrating!”
Fine then. Ahem.
As the giant desert scorpion collapsed into a pile of blood and gore, Magus smirked like the moronic asshole he was, knowing fully well that he had ruined the suspense, and that there would now be no chance of the narrator getting to use something cool like a dragon, as he had gone and found a cheap way to kill them. Bastard.
“Congratulations!” said the idiot. “You just managed to become more biased then Fox News.”
“Can you just leave the fourth wall alone?” said Petrov. “We’ve got the map, so let’s get going.”
“Behold!” shouted Petrov. “The waterfall!”
“Hooray,” said Magus. ”A waterfall. Can we enter now?”
As Magus entered, walking straight through the misty spray, he saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye, but it was probably nothing. Then, everything went black.