Sir Harold was waiting for his ultimate hour. He moved backwards and forwards on the chilled ground, periodically tapping iron armoring of his shield with a sword, but even he, who has passed through tens of tournaments with live contenders, was feeling like a fish out of water. Once again he checked up his equipment, tightly pulled down his helmet, already fairly well sitting on his head, reexamined mobility of forearms plates and armor joints, silently sworn to himself under a nose, unsuccessfully trying to fix up a slipped right steel boot, and, at the long last, as if having become happy with a recent audit, stopped, raised a prepared shield higher on a shoulder and pinned the ground with his sword with all possible strength, having leant the elbows on a similarity of newly made armrest. Sir Harold was left with little options left, except for waiting - because this place, thought consecrated, yet nevertheless keeping some ominous silence, could brag with nothing else, except for a pair hundreds of tombs, stretched through its territory in rows.
His beloved, fine maiden Angelina, could show her face in any minute …
* * *
Today sir William was in an excellent spiritual mood, caused not even by those two liters of fine red wine, which he, excited with contemplation of bared female legs, has had to consume for the sake of both heart, mind and liver shortly after the beginning of a ball, by mainly by the comprehension, which has already become slightly vague, that today, in this blessed by the monarch day, his luck at last has smiled upon him. The daughter of a local count, who has organized this oh-so-hot (e-e-c!) celebration, fine maiden Angelina, after would-to-be-seem totally unsuccessful month of courting, wheezing of serenades and painfully senseless standing under the windows at last has given her consent to their personal meeting, which she unambiguously named as appointment. And almost everything would be plainly remarkable, if (e-e-c!) she had not chosen rather strange place for aforementioned meeting, being inspired by that mysterious female wisdom of sorts. No, most certainly fearless sir William wasn’t afraid of any dead persons, dead men, deceased ones, zombies, skeletons and all their ilk, especially this very moment of time, greatly encouraged by a third finished bottle, but, nevertheless, to choose a cemetery of local small town was rather a … m-m-m … exotic option for such appointments.
All these thoughts had been swirling in sir William’s head, while he was unsuccessfully trying to escape from two evils at once - red one and female one. They, these two harms, two devilishly pleasant temptations, were still doing their best to try to tempt him, while he, now having remembered of that very meeting and almost instantly having sobered up, smoothly, trying not to make any superfluous noise in a hall, maneuvering on a move between heaps of iron accessories, scattered by newly coming visitors in an absolutely senseless and chaotic manner, was making his way up to a place of a disposition of own metal inventory’s stock.
Still trying to operate accurately, which has become quite a difficult and time-consuming task after the fourth started bottle of wine, sir William at last managed to remove his helmet from a previously created own iron heap, and rashly pulled it down on his head, which has somehow become fairly gray-haired. But to put on a breast armor seemed as almost impossible mission - for even wine, especially red one, was capable from time to time to make one look fat somehow unexpectedly, mercilessly and frankly unscrupulously, - however, after just twenty more minutes of curses and crawling he managed to perform this peculiar task as well. The problem in a form of two steel boots suddenly came out of nowhere. Having tried all imaginable combinations (presumably right boot - on a left foot, obviously left boot - on a presumably right foot, etc.) he at last was forced to drop that devilishly pointless job, having doomed own feet to travel in a new, yet somewhat little grease drawers. The last in today’s menu (after a red Burgundian wine, that’s it) were plate gauntlets and a faithful sword, which has already become a little bit blunted after his last five years old tournament. Finally, almost after half an hour from the beginning of own regimentals, having taken a sword in a right hand, and a bouquet of roses, scarlet as blood or Burgundian wine, in a left one, sir William slowly and yet somehow firmly started moving in the memorized direction to places so much more peaceful and silent then the castle of the father of his beloved one …
* * *
Sir Harold was starting to lose his patience. Enough time has passed already since that moment when Angelina should appear, but her trace still didn’t appear at all, not to mention becoming cold. And it was an easiest task to catch a cold here - a dank north wind started to blow by midnight, and clouds began to mass highly in a sky, apparently indenting to water the sinner Earth with a long-held tears. Over the earth, paying its last tribute of heat to a night air, a fog started condensing out of nowhere. Sir Harold, who began patting his armor with steel gauntlets and tapping with heels of feet on the hardened ground in a vain hope to be warmed, was almost ready to abandon this useless, judging from the point of place, deed, as suddenly unpredicted, inexplicable, bewitching and frightening phenomenon has appeared.
Directly to his dislocation, slowly and inevitably, being unsteady here and there, slicing a disobedient gray fog with feet and muttering something ominously muffled under own nose, a walking dead was moving. He was being approached by a revived dead man - the very embodiment of these infernal places, where traitorous Angelina has finally persuaded him to come!
Sir Harold had no more doubt - the hours, spent in this ground crypt, were a great acknowledgment to that feeling. A fear of the enemy, which has suddenly came out of nowhere; a curiosity, which it has born; anger on the eccentrical daughter of a foolish count; awe before her as well - all this has now mixed up in a heart of knight Harold into one indescribable and explosive mix, so much stronger than the one, knight William was capable of making from a red Burgundian wine. Without a second thought and realization of what he is aspiring to make, sir Harold rushed forward in a direction of those midnight tombs’ spawn, swinging his sword and instinctively closing his head with a shield, shouting something unrecognizable in the process.
Only the god of the dead probably knows, what exactly sir Harold was yelling during those instants of time. Perhaps, these were last words of a warrior, who suddenly realized the approach of his death and first and last time in his lifespan dared to look into its eyes without fear … Or, possibly, these were words of a lover, rushing to face the enemy and protect his beloved one … Or, maybe, these were mutual agonal damnations of former friends, who have gone into their hatred far too far. Heck, who really knows what he was screaming! It’s truly difficult to notice that in minutes like that. Anyway, but in that very instant of time, when he at last reached oh-so-dead-one and with all possible force smashed him with a sword into armored chest, his last words sounded approximately like : “ … ie, beast !”
Oh-m-m-m-m-y-y-y-y-y-y! Ouch, it hurts! Now I’m gonna make you, assh … ! - the almost-dead-one started to yell, and, having dumped a helmet from a left hand, which has unknowingly taken a place there, and having bared his feet (or were initially like those ?), jumped out forward, violently swinging his sword in turn. - Now I’ll make ye! Like that! And that way! Y-e-a-a-h-h! Take that, you! W-w-h-h-h-o-o-o-h-h-h! - he continued screaming, turning around over his feet and sending new blows to the unknown foe.
Finally, either having been inspired with a made progress, or having definitely lost all battle heat, it suddenly ceased swirling and stupidly stared ahead.
- Harold! - William! - William! - Harold! - suddenly shouted both died one, as well as nearly died one.
- What are you doing here?! You have nearly killed me, you iron fool!
- Just look at yourself, dressed up like a walking dead and roam the nights dead one knows where!
- Boys! - approaching female voice suddenly broke the chill darkness. - Boys, don’t even dare to quarrel!
And, having that said, just like a werewolf from a night, maiden Angelina, or Anzhelina, or even Angelica, or just even Angela for members of her family only, or pretty simply “my beloved”, appeared, covered in a bit disarranged from a fast running plaid.
- I’ll explain it all to you right now! - she promised, smiling. - Well, here … it’s … a timeframe accident, yes, - she admitted confusedly.
- You! - sir Harold exhaled.
- You! - sir William repeated just the same.
- How dared you! - Harold croaked.
- How you dared! - William paraphrased.
It seemed as if former friends, who have now almost come to senses from a previous shock of their meeting, are now ready to seize each other once more.
- Duel! - sir William shouted.
- Duel!- sir Harold confirmed his fears.
- Up to the first blood! - sir William tried to be more specific.
- You bet! - sir Harold encouraged him.
- Let’s do it! - sir William allowed.
- To battle! - sir Harold ascertained.
- K-k-k-i-i-i-i-l-l-l-l him! - Angelina screamed suddenly.
And a fight, which has almost taken place, still remained insolvent.
- So you … - sir Harold tried to begin.
- Has made us meet together for purpose … - sir William tried to continue.
- For you it was … - sir Harold assumed.
- Entertainment! - sir William was terrified.
- You … - sir Harold almost went angry.
- Inutile so-to-be-writer … - sir William almost calmed down.
- So-to-be-count-daughter, - sir Harold corrected him a bit.
- Count-yet-another-useless-night, - sir William uttered with a braided language.
- Let’s get out of here, - sir Harold offered.
- Sounds reasonable, - sir William summed it up.
- Boys, boys, wait a moment, where are you going? What, are you not going to fight for me?! - maiden Anzhelina asked with astonishment and sacredly, having quickly glanced over both of them. - And for what damn reason have I then specifically asked you to put on those rusty cans, and what for did I constrain myself for more than a month, and for what unknown purpose did I ask my father to buy that red Burgundian wine, from which one of you have definitely lost his head along with a helmet and started crying with these ping Burgundian snivels?! - she was enraged.
- I don’t battle with my fellow countrymen! - sir Harold replied.
- Especially for ones such as you! - sir William welcomed his reply.
- Wait a minute, do you mean that you both know each other?! - Angelina was surprised, still trying to keep on herself a plaid, which has almost flied from her back.
- A bit … - sir Harold answered evasively.
- We battled once in a tournament, - sir William dispelled her doubts.
- A-a-a-n-n-d-d … who finally prevailed? - Angelina found nothing better but to ask exactly that way.
- Doesn’t matter … - a fellow countryman William answered evasively.
- Let’s leave, - fellow countryman Harold summed up.
- One Burgundian wine for each of us? - knight William made an offer.
- To end such an end, it will surely suffice! - knight William assured him.
And with these words being said, two fellow countryman, who have known each other for almost five years, two knights without a sign of fear or reproach, two admirers and subjugators of ladies and two fans of red Burgundian wine, slowly and continuing speaking and approvingly knocking each other with steel gauntlets on shoulders, were going away from a mournful place of bitterness, eternity and love, which has mournfully become a bitterness in the eternity.
They were departing - and the culprit of the future celebration, eccentrical maiden Angelina, or just Anzhelina, or even simply Angelica, was sitting on a free tombstone and crying.
What was she crying about that very day? Did she cry of the eternal and endless love, which she has always wanted to have, and which she always had to kill for the sake of social norms, accepted in a society? Did she cry of a proud and unshakable machismo, easily shaken by a red Burgundian wine? Did she cry of own powerlessness to solve something through power? Or of own unwillingness to solve something at all for now?
Who the dead man knows what was she crying about that dark and mourning night!
But anyway, even this seemingly eternal night ended once … and the very next morning from almost inconspicuous apartments of a count’s castle a painfully familiar voice cried out:
Heck, and where is my last saved bottle of Burgundian wine?!
Morals :
The less we know the woman - the easier we live,
The more we know the woman - together better thrive.
05.04.2011
1. Warrior
There is nothing easier for him than to defeat some unfledged flying lizard. Before entering the den of a dragon he triply loudly tries to challenge him on a “fair fight” and then, having received only silence in reply, barges into the lair himself. Feeling absolutely no confusion from a view of a heap of bones and skulls, scattered through the lair (he had to see much more intriguing things in battles, after all), finds a lurked dragon. Performs a short war-call speech, like “Into the battle !” to encourage himself, and straight off rushes into a fight. When the dragon tries to breath a fire on him, instinctively defends with a shield. After that the dragon needs only to have a supper from a next titbit of a roasted meat, spitting out indigestible iron trinkets in a process.
2. Thief
Waits for whole year to choose the longest and darkest night possible. This night creeps to a den exactly at midnight. Thoroughly searches for a secret door. Having found none, opens front entrance with a lock pick, and makes a way in a den on tiptoe, trying not to make much noise (who knows, maybe dragon suddenly does not sleep yet ?). Searches heaps of bones and skulls in a search of valuables. Finds a sleeping dragon. Accurately walk around, setting the traps he has brought with himself.
Hides in a shade behind a stone and throws a poisoned dagger from his cover. When a dragon, having awakened from something light, which has struck him and slid off his scales, half-asleep breathes a fire, illuminating at least half of his den, the thief tries to hide in a shade of the flashed fire. After that the dragon needs only to have a supper from a next titbit of a roasted meat, spitting out all those jewelry in a process, previously concealed by a dragon and then pocketed by a thief, which now have been returned to their lawful legal owner once again.
3. Priest
Before going to a campaign against a dragon, thoroughly prays to his gods for them to strengthen his belief and grant him their divine aid in a battle with winged demon. Going to a campaign, he stocks up with several liters of holy water. Having at last reached journey’s point of destination, he approaches a den and blesses himself. Being inspired by the made successes, he fearlessly enters the lair. Tries to revive the souls of living beings, sent into nonexistence by the winged demon previously, by casting Raise Read spell and splashing holy water on them. When a dragon, having noticed this obscenity, flies close to a priest, the priest blesses himself once again with a sacred sign, shouting : “I banish you, evil one !”. He has the time to cast Bless, Divine Favor, Prayer, Holy Word and Fire Resistance, before the dragon spits a stream of fire on him. Breathed fire heats up an armor of the priest to 50C and then in his last efforts the servant of gods tries to extinguish the fire around him with last remnants of holy water. After that the dragon needs only to breath a fire stream once more to have a supper from a next tidbit of a roasted meat, having satisfied his thirst with several liters of holy water, yet not splashed by faithless priest.
4. Paladin
He has been born to struggle against such evils that destroy settlements of innocent peasants and eat their virgin girls. Having not a slightest sign of hesitation and fear, wasting no unnecessary words (except for something like “For the sake of justice !”), goes on a campaign against the dragon. After many days of travelling and having reached a lair, enters it fearlessly. Having not a slightest sign of hesitation and fear, bravely walks over the heaps of bones and skulls through a den. Seeing a dragon, shouts : “Godless creature ! Today’s yours Doomsday !” and heads into the battle, swinging his sparkling sword Holy Avenger + 5. Has not a slightest sign of hesitation and fear when exhaled stream of fire comes near him. After that his armor, heated up to 120C, surpasses in the degree of brilliance even his sacred sword. After that the dragon needs only to have a supper from a next tidbit of a roasted meat, having carefully spat out (and having added to the already impressive list of his treasures) Holy Avenger +5 sword.
5. Mage
Before going on a campaign, for several years sits at reading of ancient books and manuscripts, concerning the history of dragons race, their arrival into this world, their classification, character traits and basic habits and, finally, their weak spots.
Having being armed with all that knowledge along with an ancient magic staff and several tens of spell scrolls, at last starts his voyage. Having passed some kilometers and having been tired of walking on foot, casts Fly and then overcomes all remained distance to a lair in several pitiful minutes.
Having noticed a den, casts Detect Magic on it. Becomes alerted when the spell displays the hugest fluctuations of magic force in a den. Carefully surveys den’s vicinities, trying to digest unrecorded magical fluctuations. Before entering a lair casts on himself all that magic stuff like Haste, Minor Globe Of Invulnerability, Major Globe Of Invulnerability, Greater Globe Of Invulnerability, Lesser Magic Reflection, Greater Magic Reflection, Protection From Elements, Protection From Evil, Protection From Alignment, Stoneskin, Greater Stoneskin, Spell Immunity, Total Immunity, and only then accurately enters it. Takes breath when he determines that the source of detected earlier magical fluctuations are, in fact, artifacts, scattered together with heaps of bones and skulls. Overcomes the desire to be engaged in their immediate studying, having decided to postpone this sort of business for later attention. Trying not to lose too much time, moves through a den and notices a lying dragon at last. When the dragon flies up to him, intending to engulf him in flames, mage casts Time Stop and then beholds the dragon, frozen in air, unable to look away from its strong as a steel red scales, and trying to remember, for what powerful magic component this scaly ingredient was required. Having regained one’s senses, casts a Fireball on a hovering dragon. Having noticed, that it has not affected the dragon as it was supposed to do, finally remembers the descriptions, read earlier in manuscripts, of representatives of his kind and (in particular) their total and complete invulnerability to fire. Still have some time to cast Chain Lightning, which, along with hitting the dragon, as a side effect destroys practically all artifacts, stocked up by the dragon, after that the dragon come away from period of time-nonexistence, and spits out a fire stream on a dire magician. The mage observes with surprise his magical staff, which has become an analogue of a torch in Christmas night, and only then on the edges of his consciousness realizes, that all effects of his magic protections have had just enough time to already vanish. After that the dragon needs only to have a supper from a next tidbit of a roasted meat, having replenished his magical supplies from a heap of rings, necklaces and other jewelry, spat out from the chewed magician.
6. Barbarian
Having learnt that somewhere in his vicinities lives some ancient, and, moreover, red dragon, screams with a loud war-call and runs in the direction, where (presumably) the dragon should dwell. Having been running for several days, at the long last comes by some sort of miracle across a dragon’s den. Emits a war cry once again, calling a dragon on a fight. When a dragon, woken up by this inhuman roar, claws out of his cave, the barbarian enters a berserker mode and tries to chop a dragon into pieces. After that the dragon needs only to observe a fairly fire-bathed and still violently twitching muscular body of a former dragon’s bane.
7. Ranger
Becomes very disappointed, having learnt that the ancient red dragon does not dwell in woods. Then, having loaded himself with several quivers of arrows, starts the voyage. Carefully investigates all traces, found on the road, trying to identify, which of them can possibly belong to a dragon. After many days of travelling finally reaches a den. Compares traces around a den with earlier taken samples to become convinced that it’s the valid den of a valid dragon. Before entering a lair, summons Black Bear from the nearest forest. Creeps into the lair together with a bear. Observes with astonishment, how this very hungry bear eats remains of unlucky adventurers, slaughtered by a dragon. Having noticed a dragon from afar, fires several tens of arrows, which lay down accurately on a circle around the paws of a sleeping dragon, thus calling him for a fight.
When the dragon wakes up and flies up to him, sets on his summoned bear. With edge of his eye observes, how a bear, already stuffed up with food, instead of eating a dragon sits down near him and starts licking own paws. With edge of another eye observes, how all quivers of arrows on his back flash in a fire. Has some time left to feel a heat, coming somewhere from all directions, and to see dragon claws just before his face. After that the dragon needs only to feel the charm of the torn and roasted meat of not only the hero himself, but his not less unlucky forest companion.
8. Bard
Before going to a campaign, composes a ballad Of The Great And Mighty Red Dragon, Covering The Half Of Firmament On A Flight. Becomes greatly inspired when a half of local small town comes to attend to this concert. Then composes a ballad Of The Fearless Hero Who Went On A Campaign Against The Bane Of The Heavens. After having received a thousand question of who is this fearless hero, decides that time for a campaign has probably finally come. Moves into adventuring, composing new and new ballads on the way Of The Battle With Red Wyrm, Of The Red Plague Of Heavens and on, and on, thereby constantly gathering around him crowds of local gapers. When he reaches dragon’s den at last, discovers that all that public has been blown off like by the fire. Enters a lair, singing a ballad Of The Young Bard, Fearlessly Stepping Into A Lair Of The Ancient Beast. Having entered the lair and come across remains of your adventurers, composes on the fly a tearful song Of The Heroes, Who Disgracefully Died In The Dark Cave, trying to encourage himself. When a dragon, awakened by some hoarse singing voice, flies up to him, tries to compose a lullaby ballade Of How The Dragon Went Into Eternal Rest. The dragon, however, completely unimpressed with such melodies, exhales a burst of flame, and after that event all the remaining crowd have to compose in joint efforts a new (in last in this season) ballade Of How The Hero Over Here Was Lost In The Den Over There.
9. Monk
Before going into a campaign, diligently meditates for some days, trying to dive into Nirvana. Having left this blissful state, finds out that that time for campaign has already come a long time ago – and then finally moves on. Having passed several kilometers and having been tired of such slow way of movement, starts running and thus surpasses all remaining distance in mere several hours. Having run to a den, sits down in a pose of lotus and plunges himself into meditation once again. Having left this blissful state after several days, finds out that he’s just in the time borders of his journey. Runs into a lair. On the fly diligently maneuvers across heaps of bones and skulls, trying not to bash any of them. Having not noticed a dragon on the move, bashes into him – and then sits down near its paws and plunges himself into deepest meditation. The woken up dragon breathes a stream of fire, which does not cause the hero any harm, for he has already made his body absolutely immune to pain. By that time the monk, who has left meditation, notices that the dragon has already woken up, and enters a fistfight with him. After that the dragon needs only to regale on a body and (separately) head of the hero, which have now been made totally and absolutely immune to any sorts of pain.
21.10.2010
1. Fighter
Constantly holds an impressive bastard sword in his hands before the eyes of his listeners, sometimes swinging it clockwise in hands for the sake of impression. When some listener tries to object him, moves his sword closer to that impudent one and put it on his shoulder, unambiguously looking in his eyes. After that the objecting one immediately loses all desires to object.
2. Thief
While everyone argue with each other, has enough time to empty pockets of ten gapers, to steal pair of mugs of ale from local barman and to expropriate a necklace from a neck of his daughter, - and then hides in shadows and waits until everyone becomes bothered enough to be still engaged in this phrase-mongering. After dispute comes to an end and loss is being detected and the alarm starts to reign in the tavern, thief has enough time to cut even more purses of the traders, who have so inopportunely appeared here, and even to relief pockets of one of guards, who has come to pacify commoners, from his recent pay. After that he safely slips away from a tavern into darkness of night and disappears in it without the court.
3. Priest
When he is displeased with something or huffs seriously, he calls the debater as “daemon” and casts Exorcism on him. The spell, as a rule of the thumb, does not make any actual effect, but, nevertheless, is accompanied by such grandiose illuminations, that inspired public immediately falls on knees altogether and start singing prayers to the priest. And the priest, well, starts singing them to his deity.
4. Paladin
Having noticed a crowd of drunk gapers in a tavern, organizes a discussion along with brainwashing, concerning just and pure life. Then preaches a sermon to the local barman, his daughter and even the tavern itself. After all local tavern brotherhood, not really impressed with such talks, approaches him in a crowd, he removes his sparkling sword Holy Avenger + 5 from sheath, and after that all commoners get stricken with temporarily blindness (basically because of the sight of jewels, inlaying the sword) and immediately become paladin’s best friends. Being proud of such transformation of dark human soul and bearing his head highly, he leaves a tavern to amaze new evils in any form possible.
5. Mage
After some local mortal idler dares to name him as “maggie puppy” and another local mortal fool doubts his great magic abilities, casts Demon Gate and summons a Balor King from the Abyss. After Balor devours all tavern of local mortal brotherhood and is banished back to the Underworld, the devastated tavern appears to be totally in no condition to dispute with local conjurer.
6. Barbarian
The time someone starts to argue in style “to be or not to be”, from misunderstanding of these foolish high substances he becomes enraged, and, having entered a berserker condition, emits such roar that all local inhabitants immediately become deaf. After that they have only to silently observe, how mad barbarian crashes into pieces all local tavern furniture, like in a mute cinema.
7. Ranger
Bashes into a tavern along with his Ancient Brown Bear and then, having set up on a table, orders drink (for himself) and meal (for his forest friend). While everyone amazingly whispers with each other and cautiously look at the bear, who has taken a sit near a table as well, devastates ordered glass of drink and inquires, where is it possible to hunt nearby. Calms down the rest of local rascals, who have not fallen unconscious already, having specified, that he hunts exclusively in woods. Having learnt approximate coordinates and interrupted further specifications with words “I’ll find it myself !”, leaves a tavern. Notices, that the bear has grown too fat from the recent meal, and thus cannot pass through doors, - and then takes out arrow from a quiver and ends his tortures. Then summons a new bear (this time from the outer side of a tavern) – and finally goes on wood hunting.
8. Bard
Becomes the best story-teller in all local districts, so all tavern patrons of ten more nearby villages come to listen to him. Indefatigably composes new and new ballads and songs until he dies from old age. After that yet another bard comes on his funeral and starts to compose new ballads and songs about this singer, who have decided to rest in peace so untimely.
9. Monk
Silently enters a tavern, silently sits down on a floor and silently dives into Nirvana. After that all attempts of local gapers to help him come to his senses end up with no result visible, and so they finally decide to leave him alone. Having returned back into this world several days after, he finds out that some dancing is being performed around him, and then leaves this world once again. Having returned to it some months after, finds out that instead of local tavern only its burns ashes are around him and he sits almost on open air. Makes a mind note to himself, that this is a very quiet place and it would be necessary to return to it afterwards, and decides to return back to his monastery for now.
21.10.2010
1. Warrior
Pushes an installation disk into the drive with the help of steel gauntlet. Moves nearby, while installation process is being performed, practicing swords swinging and shaking, and sometimes bashing his shield for greater frightening effect. When the installation is finally completed and during the first boot Windows hangs up, he smashes thrice-damned device into an incalculable number of small slices in his mighty rage.
2. Thief
Acquires a pirated copy of the latest beta-version of Windows for just 2 silver coins, silently opens a drive with a lock pick, puts a disk there and then even more silently closes the drive and launches installation process. When the message popups : “A new device has been detected : Windows disk”, - shouts “Hell, we’ve been spotted !” and runs away with such a speed that only his heels sparkle.
3. Priest
Before begging the installation process, blesses Windows media disk and splashes holy water on it, and only after those important procedures inserts it into a drive. When the drive cannot read seriously watered disk and a message popups : “Unable to read from device. Abort ? Retry ? Ignore ?” he overshadows himself in horror, shouting “I banish thee, unholy one !” and starts moving around the computer, singing holy prayers. After two hours of travelling (during which the disk has just enough time to completely dry up) tries to repeat the process once again. After the installation process completes successfully, kneels and performs yet another three-hour praise to the gods that they have heard his modest prayers and have aided him in his struggle against the evil.
4. Paladin
Takes Windows installation disk and lay on hands on it. Waits for several minutes and then inserts a disk in a drive. As soon as installation starts, put his Ankh on a chassis for greater effect. When the installation process finishes and during the first boot Windows hangs up, proclaims : “Disbeliever ! Feel the wrath of Gods !” and smashes accursed device into a lot of tiny pieces.
5. Mage
Carefully takes Windows installation disk and casts Identify spell on it. After the spell determines the version of Windows on a disk, casts a Detect Magic spell on it. When his spell detects nothing unusual, breathes with a sign of relief and cast a Detect Alignment spell on it. Becomes wary after the spell detects Alignment : Chaotic Neutral. Casts a Purify spell on disk and only then finally launches installation process. Having fun with own familiar during the installation process. After the installation completes, repeatedly casts Detect Alignment spell on a computer. Becomes alerted even more, when a spell determines Alignment : Chaotic Evil. Casts Time Stop, trying to decipher, what magical streams have created such astounding alteration of disk’s alignment. Reboots the computer. When during the first boot Windows hangs up, becomes extremely angered, casting on himself Haste, Greater Globe Of Invulnerability, Greater Reflect Magic, Stoneskin, Ironskin, Total Immunity and then at last casts Improved Fireball on ill-fated device, enjoying a smell of burned rubber and wires.
6. Barbarian
Takes installation disk, plays with it, trying to understand, by what side it should be inserted into a drive. Puts a disk into a drive by the first found side. After that emits a heart-breaking war cry in order to start installation process. When Windows disk shutters into pieces from such vibrations, becomes extremely enraged and, having entered a berserker condition, smashes accursed device (and what is remained from a disk as well) into a thousand and one pieces.
7. Ranger
Shoots an arrow and opens a drive, having hit Eject button. Puts installation Windows disk on a second arrow and fires it in a drive. When a disk, having fallen from an arrow just in time just into a drive, starts installation process. While installation process goes on, summons Black Bear and discusses with him the delights of the wood hunting, which have allowed him to find an aforementioned disk in a belly of some unlucky wood troll together with even less lucky thief – the initial owner of the disk, - swallowed by the troll. When the installation processes comes to its end and during the first boot Windows hangs up, sets his Black Bear on a chassis, while making a pillow for needles from a monitor himself.
8. Bard
Before inserting a disk in a drive, takes it out for everyone to behold and starts singing a ballade of far kingdoms and treasures of Goddess-destiny, who have helped him to once find such a wonderful and admirable artifact. When somewhat about twenty gawks and gapers gather around him, sings not less heart-touching ballade of the terrifying black dragon, nicknamed Microsoft, whom he along with his comrades-in-arms have finally defeated in a bloody and just battle, and in whose lair such artifact has been found. When somewhat about fifty gawks and gapers gather around him, at last dares to insert this disk in a drive. When a message popups : “Unregistered Windows copy. To register, go to : www.microsoft.com” , makes a sad gesture and sings even more heart-touching ballade of a deceit, lie and insidiousness, reigning in the lands of Faerun.
9. Monk
Puts installation disk on the unremarkable stone shrine, and makes a holy circular detour. After that sits down in a pose of a lotus and begins his meditation. After ten-hour meditation comes to his senses, softly puts a disk in a drive and launches installation process. Dives into meditation again, while the installation process goes on. After fifteen-hour meditation comes to his senses and sees, that the system cannot continue the installation process because of a necessity to press Any Key for process’s continuation. Presses Any Key, and once again plunges himself into meditation. After three-hour meditation returns to this world once again, and sees, that system has hung up. Having overcome an internal impulse of anger of his essence, starts installation anew, and sits down to meditate. After fifteen-hours meditation sees, that the system asks him to press Any Key once again. Again presses Any Key and plunges himself into meditation. After three-hour meditation comes back to this world once more only to observe that the system has hung yet again. Repeatedly having overcome an internal impulse of anger of his essence, starts all process (including meditation) anew. After twentyfold repetition of a situation as last enrages and demonstrates finesse of kickboxing to a computer. Becomes satisfied only when there is not even a smallest object, which have a dent from his fists, left, - and then sits down to meditate once again, as always.
29.10.2010