08-07-2015, 11:43 AM
He doubted the knight was much of a threat (his armor didn’t look ball-proof, and though he carried a large spear—at least six turcas—with a sharp tip, his ball had trumped worse), but this was a new world. Eileen had proven that much; just as she was a good scripture wrapped in an eerie cover, the knight could be more powerful than the beast he mounted.
Wakka took heed, nodding as Eileen pulled away from him.
The blitzballer just wanted answers (as many as possible without actually having to inquire)—what was this new dimension, or who was the figure? All in good time, he supposed.
For now, the two would follow the knight.
The journey to Camelot was long. Wakka occasionally glanced over towards Eileen; she walked with a posture much greater than his own, and the beak of her mask never teetered from its position. A few times his sights caught her own, and even fewer times, he could almost see her eyes, but her mask did a helluva job concealing them.
Then his mind wandered (it was better than viewing the empty landscape, or gazing forward, into the large ass of the knight’s beast). Camelots, stormtroopers, and versus—what did it all mean? Versus involved fighting, but Wakka doubted the knight meant it in that context. Stormtroopers sound liked some sort of mage soldier . . . preposterous; those two classes together definitely clashed with traditional teachings. And Camelot . . . Wakka would learn soon enough.
“The portal be not far from here,” the knight proclaimed, and pulled his spear to a horizontal position; the sharp tip pointed ahead. “Only a furlong or two.”
Wakka leaned his head to look around the beast’s ass. In the distance, he could see an oblong object. It seemed to be an arch, comprised of stones so smooth they glistened.
Wakka took heed, nodding as Eileen pulled away from him.
The blitzballer just wanted answers (as many as possible without actually having to inquire)—what was this new dimension, or who was the figure? All in good time, he supposed.
For now, the two would follow the knight.
The journey to Camelot was long. Wakka occasionally glanced over towards Eileen; she walked with a posture much greater than his own, and the beak of her mask never teetered from its position. A few times his sights caught her own, and even fewer times, he could almost see her eyes, but her mask did a helluva job concealing them.
Then his mind wandered (it was better than viewing the empty landscape, or gazing forward, into the large ass of the knight’s beast). Camelots, stormtroopers, and versus—what did it all mean? Versus involved fighting, but Wakka doubted the knight meant it in that context. Stormtroopers sound liked some sort of mage soldier . . . preposterous; those two classes together definitely clashed with traditional teachings. And Camelot . . . Wakka would learn soon enough.
“The portal be not far from here,” the knight proclaimed, and pulled his spear to a horizontal position; the sharp tip pointed ahead. “Only a furlong or two.”
Wakka leaned his head to look around the beast’s ass. In the distance, he could see an oblong object. It seemed to be an arch, comprised of stones so smooth they glistened.