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6/25/2019 1:50:01 AM
1
Hit in the head
But still not quite dead
I use my ace in the hole
I pull out my sax, and blow
And it sends a wave, turning some to coal
I put the sax away, and shoot the rest as the glow
English
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The remaining ones stop for a moment in confusion before resuming with combat. [spoiler]I don't understand a thing you said near the end there.[/spoiler]
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Modifié par Lord Dublin : 6/25/2019 2:08:41 AM[quote]An explanation then: the sax plays the soul, turning those without into coal. But if you have one you’ll hear, a ballad of something near to homely[/quote] Fighting me they seek But altogether a little too weak For the bard in his prime And so long as he can rhyme The battle continues, And as it goes on The bard has begun to use each one like a pawn Moving about fighting each one Until at the end the range is almost done
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With better understanding they turn to coal, unable to move. More battllysts move in and open fire.
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Returning fire, I lead them to the pyre Of burning coal now ablaze That’s sure to cause quite the craze. Backtracking now as he empties his clip He continues on, until the slip Out of ammo he is, the bard it seems Although this time he’s ready for this theme Drawing his sword, Äeger it’s called He rushes to the first one and leaves it mauled
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The blade cuts deep but it's difficult to pull out. A conculyst moves in to punish your aggression.
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The bard laughs And the with his mighty calves He sends a side kick out And the shotgun on his boot Sends a scatter of pellets to route His enemies on the advance
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The shot blasts its face apart but continues its approach.
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Head blown away It continues its way forward But the bard doesn’t dismay As he pulls a pin and puts the EMP down He takes a bow and pulls his sword To detonate the magnetic blast, activating his crown It begins to glow, like a neon light board He throws it down And out comes his gun once more Picking it up he shoots it away Dragons breathe rounds entering the fray
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The EMP disables the conculyst permanently but other ones begin to have glowing orbs hover above them that then project deadly lasers.
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The lasers a fast But I’m taken aback By the fact that I have another blast Of my gun one again, shooting the stack I press the attack The lasers you see, Simply bounce off of me Because of the energy field I think to myself “they should just yield” But onwards I shoot fiery shots from my rifle They are no mere trifle
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The lasers quickly adapt to your protection and make the barrier burst.
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All going as planed With my barrier burst In under a second it spanned The time of my breaking, and the opening of the cursed Granted I’m shaking As I’m full of the souls Of those killed while making I send out my own laser like poles That slices and dices, making quite the mess As I vanish from sight nevertheless
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The conculysts die and battllysts try to keep their distance and lob explosive shots at you.
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Passing right through Where I stood moments ago The bard has reached a level anew I spin the lasers at my foe Granted behind it I go With an energy beam Sending it into the bright space And a visage out of a dream A cloak of light and shadow with a mace A spray of bullets erupts from this being In such a way to make most enemies start fleeing But robots are not affected by fear and so get hit A visage of death, borrowed from another And yet feels much like a brother
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A conculyst appears out of nowhere and punches you in the face and disables your active abilities. [spoiler]you're getting a little OP. Please tone it down a bit.[/spoiler]
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[quote]dont worry, an illusion[/quote] Awake in a start from the battle To see that I fell asleep on a rock The robots confused and punching a pile of cattle I decide this time to go for a walk And pick up my rifle, Though maybe it seems a bit trifle I check the robots, and see They all think the cattle is me! I shoot each one twice and start this once more And aim this time: for the core
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They go down. The battllysts quickly adapt to the trick and open fire on you.
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Taking cover behind a fallen enemy I hide And make a phone call, To the bartender of sorts “Hey grandad, I tried But a bit more robots it seems, too tall Even for me” Then silence a moment as he contemplates “Mk32B” A small hand gun he creates, Then the call ends And I begin to think of friends And grab the gun And start the new fun, Pulling the trigger, aiming straight true Another bullet flew Hitting not one but two It then proceeded to make them explode The shrapnel it flies, making me rethink my code
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The shot manages to kill 2 at once. A conculyst starts spinning wildly and starts to pull you in.
