C̢̓ͤ͑̅ͪ̎͆͗́̑́͆͂͏͜h̵̢̎̊ͨ̍̀ͫ̉̒a̓̓́ͯͣͭ̎͡͝͡͏p͛͗̌̿̀ͨ̐͋ͬ̅͑ͨͩ͊͗͒͢͡͞ţ͂͌̂̾ͣ̒̽̈ͭ̑ͧ̋̀̕e̛ͣͯͩ̀̑̚͘r̢̈ͧ̍̄͑ͫ̅̀ͭ͐ͮ̿́̕͟ ̢̢̛̀̏ͩ͊ͬ̃ͬ͢͡5̸̴̷̍̿̈́̑̽ͪ̉̂The rubble of the lab floated away above the Seat of Power. From a far window, the Emperor surveyed the damage, a bottle of wine in one hand, an empty glass in the other. His tie was loose, dangling from a slightly unbuttoned dress shirt. His gemstone cuff links were scuffed and scratched, resting on the now defunct remains of his desk chair.
In the far left corner of the room, Fortune clutched a freely bleeding wound. Standing over him was Sacha, a single arm stretching down onto the goblin's shoulder, hoping to help keep the wound sealed.
Breathing heavily near the remains of the emperor's desk sat Kanin. In his arms, breathing her last gasps, was Nyria, a spear of the purest ice covered in her blood. Kanin's pistol was pointed directly at the emperor's head, however much good it would do him.
The emperor took a sip of his wine, swished it in his mouth for a moment, and then spat it out onto the ground near him, the Clordin imported rug now stained permanently with yet another blotch of red. He smiled and continued to stare into the floating rubble of the secret lab hidden beneath a quaint bar in Poria. He hadn't expected the explosion to be so magnificent, but he certainly expected what he saw next.
Jumping from rubble to rubble, a rope wrapped around his waist, a tiny figure stared over dozens of miles into the eyes of the emperor. The two locked gazes, prepared for what was next.
Under Diarmuid's feet, a glowing, white glyph appeared. The halfling unslung the rope from around his waist, tying it about the floating rubble of his former place of employment, and then tied another end around his waist once more. He turned to face the woman, then nodded. He stared back towards the Seat of Power and felt a surge of energy take hold of his feet. The glyph flashed and propelled Diarmuid off of the rubble and into the air. The rope went taut and dragged the rubble with the halfling.
This was going to be one magical fucking missile.
The little creature's skin grew metallic, his arms instinctively moving over his eyes, as the speed he was now literally flying at would have torn him apart without his magic to save him. He and the rubble flew through the air and, at the last second, his and the emperor's eyes locking once again, cut the rope tying him to the rubble.
The missile collided with the emperor's window and
RECORD FAILED TO LOAD
"Let's try something different."