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Snippet #2483588

located in Valderia, a part of The Magic Hunters of Valderia, one of the many universes on RPG.

Valderia

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Spotface
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Being honest, the puppet show really hadn't been all that interesting to him the first time. He'd seen a Harlequinn sister of his do some similar tricks with, as far as Spotface was concerned, a little more flair... but as they worked with him to distract and fight these monsters, he plainly appreciated this second performance. "I have to hand it to you... Thomas, was it? These puppets are damned-" he stopped to leap just out of the arc of a wicked looking cleaver, "-wonderful devices, and you move them masterfully!" Considering how taxing it was getting to duck and weave out of the rapid blows and savage swipes raining down from the cultists, especially as he discovered how tireless the hoard of them seemed to be, Spotface was dimly aware that he was wasting valuable effort and concentration on chatting with his new-found ally, when the action could probably be saved for some other, decisively less dire situation. Something about the gravity of the situation compelled him to talk and laugh as though being surrounded by giant, angry, murderous madmen out to stomp him into paste was an everyday chore. Come to think of it, though, that does sound about right... But he was a little too woozy and tired to know better at this point. Dying for being too nice and cheerful isn't such a bad way to go, right? I can't let a silly little thing like massively painful bodily injury stop me from having some fun... Gods, what am I even thinking? What a wreck of a day. I need to get out of here.

Somersaulting backward from a pair of nasty-looking behemoths, he barely had enough time to duck and roll as another one swung wide with a long knife. Bounding from spot to spot, pain suddenly radiated out from his left ear; he discovered, by reaching up squeamishly, that one of them had managed to cut off the tip, and now it hurt like hell as blood splattered out in weak but constant trickle.

It was then that the puppets moved in, sweeping the goblin away in their arms and up to the rooftops, saving him just as a cultist had snuck up on him. Though the puppet struggled to hold his weight as its arm started to rip, the puppet had lifted Spotface out of the tight mob of cultists, which not only meant that he had the time and space to breathe, but could shoot his grappling shots without it landing in a tall pillar of flesh and ugly. He wasn't sure if he should thank Thomas or the puppet (the way they moved, it was creepily real), so he gave the puppet a reassuring pat on the back as he shakily dropped onto his feet, and gave Thomas a wave before grappling over in his direction. "I'd say it's time we ran for our lives to the station, no?" Spotface yelled down to him from the roofs.