Life in the Game

13th warrior_03

They were lying in wait for me outside the Mermaid Fish Bar this time – wet-brains, somewhere in the region of thirty to forty of them, I estimated. They jumped me on the way out and my cod and chips went flying from my grasp. I must admit they had the advantage of surprise there alright. It wasn’t exactly what you’d call a coordinated attack but there was a certain brutal efficiency in it all the same. Despite the initial surprise element however my highly trained reflexes took over and my broadsword was there in my hand, leaping in a graceful arc from the leather scabbard on my back. I didn’t even have to think about it. I must have dispatched at least six of the wet-brains with that initial stroke. People quibble about the value of the broadsword in close-quarter combat I know, counting it as cumbersome and awkward to wield, but I swear by it. It is heavy and hard to get going I know but for a real master of the weapon – and I grant that they are rare – a broadsword is in my book the ultimate weapon. A true master can make it sing, make it howl, make it dance, and it will cut through bone like butter. The wet-brains kept on coming, not because they are particularly brave but more because they are too stupid to adapt quickly to disadvantageous situations. They can’t think quickly enough – in fact they can’t think at all! That’s pretty much the thing about being a wet-brain. There was a moment there alright when I thought I might go down through sheer force of numbers. As I said, there must have been at least thirty to forty of them. But I had my epic armour on and my legendary broadsword was singing and howling like a demon in my hand and pretty soon it was all over. The mess on the pavement was appalling. The stench alone was enough to make you gag. My cod and chips had been thrown well clear of the carnage but at this stage I had quite lost my appetite. Anyway, it wasn’t real – it was a only a game after all so I wasn’t really going to go hungry…

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