The end of Valentine

There was a noticable chill in the air as Vince slowly made his way through the woods of spirituality.
He would rather have been warming his hands beside the fireplace in the Goblin, but duty called, and he was never one to turn down a bit of action. Every step he took resulted in a loud crunch, the snow compacting beneath his feet, no matter how carefully he tried to walk.
His mission, on this snowy eve, was to infiltrate the village of the meer, and determine how much of a threat they posed, if any. Normally this would have been handled by the scouts, but it had been a while since Vince had seen any action, and he was getting restless sitting in his office buried in paperwork.
Alone, he stalked closer to his target, the Village of the Meer. His hastily put together disguise, which consisted of a grey robe and a shabby cloak, were suddenly pulled tight around his body, as a sharp gust of icy wind blew over him.
Oh, Vince had been in more comfortable situations alright, but as he so often says, all part of the job and all...

All was quiet as he entered the village. Lights burned brightly in a few of the windows,
Giving the road outside an eerie glow. Suddenly, he heard a violent yell!
Almost stumbling, he steadied himself against one of the houses and scanned the darkness, searching for the owner of the rather angry voice. Two red robed figures, standing at least ten foot tall, lurched into view. If he was caught spying, and found to be Covian, it could make things very uncomoftable for the town he called home.
Vince ran....

Thick branches and thorny thickets tore at his face and arms as he dashed through the forest. He could hear his pursuers, only now there were more of them. Six voices....seven?....it didn't matter. They were closing in fast, and when they finally caught him it would all be over. Suddenly his feet fell out from beneath him, sending him sprawling to the floor.
He winced as he wriggled his foot free from the mighty tree root that had halted his grand escape. It was all over.....

No! A Grenadier never gives up!

He dragged himself to his feet and continued his desperate sprint, albeit with a little more limping. He'd never outrun them like this, he had to hide! He knew little of the surrounding area, with only one possible hiding place springing to mind.
The ratman caves. Certainly not the safest choice, but Vince was out of options. He lunged himself forward as quickly as his body would allow, until the entrance was in sight...

Vince practically fell into the caves, panting heavily and praying that the inhabitants were asleep. Thankfully, there were no signs of anything nasty and he made his way in, desperatly searching for a place to conceal himself. Exhausted, he settled for an abandoned cart, which he clambered into. Taking the weight off of his injured leg seemed to bring new levels of pain. His eyes rolled back as he desperatley rubbed it, attempting to sooth at least a tiny portion of the pain. That's when he passed out....

How long was he out? two hours? Three? Quite a while longer it seemed, as it was much lighter, and the formerly slumbering ratmen were now awake and armed.
Vince cursed himself. How could he have been so foolish!? Trapped, in the middle of a horde of merciless animals, he knew it wouldn't be long before he was discovered. He had to make his move now, whilst he still had at least a tiny chance of survival.
It seems he'd escaped the meer people only to be put into the hands of a much more dangerous foe.
If he could just clear a path to the cave entrance, he should be okay...
He unshouldered his bow, and steeled himself.....
Suddenly, his world was moving in slow motion, and he found himself heading towrds the dusty ground. He tried to turn his head, but couldn't. The huge ratperson had his neck secured under his immense foot and Vince gasped for breath, his face half buried in the dusty earth.
The tribe of ratmen roared, speaking in their strange language, and Vince knew it wasn't looking good. The huge beast eased his foot, allowing Vince a gasp of much needed breath, before skewering Vinces left hand with his immense spear.
Vince roared in pain, scrambling into the corner of the cave, holding his mutilated hand under his right armpit. His eyes darted left to right, and he began counting how many Rats were in the nest. He got to twenty six when an immense pain in his leg interrupted his counting. He looked down to see the the handle of a large axe, the head buried deep within his left thigh. Another roar escaped his lips, promting cheers from the large tribe....

Vinces vision was getting blurred. His throat was dry, his head pounded. One thing left to do. He mustered what was left of his strength and struck his backpack with all of his might! Again, he struck it, and again, until he heard the faint sound of breaking glass....
Rummaging desperatly, cutting his hand several times on the glass, he pulled out his torch.

Bleeding....It doesn't matter.....

The small book of matches tucked into his battered old torch fell clumsily, and vince scooped them up as quickly as he could. The liquid escaping his pack was settling into a thick puddle about a foot away from him, just behind the ratman bastard with the spear. The purple liquid bubbled, and Vince was vaguely aware of the smell of sulphor as he lit one of the matches...

The last thing Vince Valentine, Grenadier Sergeant saw was the huge axe coming towards his face as he dropped the match to where the highly explosive liquid had leaked. He saw the face of his sweet Kelly, that of the Baron, and his brother grenadiers. He saw the face of his old friend, Kal Shadowhand.

The cave was filled with a blinding light, and an explosion that seemed to echo the heavens themselves, and Vince Valentine, Grenadier Sergeant of Cove, was no more.

	Welcome, Guest. Please login or register. July 04, 2024, 07:13:47 pm

News: Join us on Discord! If you're having trouble with the invite link, contact Armitage Shanks#7063