by Sir Henry Morgan » Sat Jun 29, 2013 5:39 am
Now ye stepped in it, mate - many distilleries I have, all throughout Avonmora, however, the thought of one bein' destroyed turns me stomach! I walks me way to the top of the hill where DoomIris has assembled 'is glorified technology.
I looks at at - it's shiny, cold and flashin' lights that be a true mystery to me. All's I know is they be his defense. Grrrrrrrr....
My guts rumble in anger - I takes a slug of rum from me bottle, which does nothin' fer me mood...... it could only lead to disaster.
BRRRRAAAAAAAAP! I belch and instantly, the massive wall of modern gadgetry and widgets explodes, mushrooming into a cloud of smoke, leavin' a crater the size of Rolando's Man of War fleet in the top o' that hill.
Technology has no defenses against the powers of nature.
As debris and dirt begin to settle, I sees DoomIris, smoldering, sitting in what be left of his throne, now a meer smoking milkin' stool, all set upon the desolate wasteland of the hill.
"Hrmpf. Ye can keeps it." I mutter, relinquishing me conquered prize back to the conquered. I saunter back down the hill to the tavern to further explore the powers of nature.