Assault on Darkshire [Staging]

[Dave Strider]

Shit, he was gonna be late for this fight too. Then again, when did the cool guys ever show up on time. It was unheard of, unless, that is, they wanted to be on time ironically. Dave, however, wanted to get to this place before anything big happened. He never figured himself to be much of a mercenary, but then again, he never figured he would have to be running his ass off cross a useless empty white landscape that echoed his every footstep. For the occasion, Strider had dressed up a bit, taking on his white bowtie on his blood red tux, complete with pants of a darker shade. Damn these undies giving him a major wedgie, making it all the more uncomfortable to try to haul ass.

Fortunately, Dave jogged at a decent enough pace to get through the portal to the Pale Moors within an hour or so, stopping for a moment to catch his breath and stretch before heading in. He was starting to feel better, but he had felt quite light headed after respawning, but it was fading quickly. He had to be prepared. Who knows what hellhole is breaking lose, like whether or not the armed forces of satan's ass had gone up to battle across his taint to castrate him once and for all. On the other hand, it could just end up like some bar fight where two guys were gawking and hitting on some dude that happened to have long and luscious hair, trying to win over a nonexistent heart. 

But enough of that. Now, the vast dead and gloomy landscape of the Moors laid itself out in front of Dave, the large moon reflecting off of his dark sunglasses. It was times like these that Dave wished he could just jump forward in time and not have to deal with this shit, but as far as he can tell, any kind of timeline in this place was beyond fucked up, lost within the deep confined of Lucifer's well-guarded bellybutton. Dave couldn't exactly pinpoint why his mind was making so many satan comparisons today, might just be the aura of this place.

A long trek followed as Dave found and lost roads, eventually hearing the roar of battle in the far distance, beyond the trees and paths. He wasted no time making his way to the assaulting side, which he assumed was the one with all the spooky fuckers. Why do bad guys always gotta be so fucking creepy? At least he would look good, even though he was kinda fighting with the bad guys. But it wasn't like this was that big of a battle, right? Dave checked his iShades, scrolling through data until he found the news about recent events. Well shit. Too late to change sides now. If he is lucky, he might find one of the many douches from the Nexus there. Either way, who knows, so long as he doesn't go full grimdark or anything he'll be fine. Mostly.

Dave dashed around the field, heading towards the center, attempting to find the primes, leading their army of ghouls and ghosts out to the front of the battle He could've sworn he walked through a few ghosts, sending chills down his spine. Arrows blotted the sky above him as he strayed from the frontlines, he could look ahead to see the arrows flying towards him, but falling short to hit those unfortunate enough to be within the range of the attack. It was pretty chill seeing all these weird fuckers. So this is how it is on the other side. Not too pretty, but chill nonetheless. Now if only he could find another damn Prime. If they are as ugly as their minions, Dave would be better off finding Waldo. 

"Alright, I'm looking for the dudes or chicks that are running this shit, you know where they are?"

Most of the minions ignored him, treading forth into battle, a few looking at him and shaking their heads with grunts, this one dude with bat wings just cackeld and flew off. Little shit. Where was everyone?