The Final Battle Part 1

The last time we saw our bearded adventurers, The Gunslinger, Distiller, and Barkeep took down the Witch Doctor and the Inventor knocked him out cold and the Wizard bound him. Meanwhile, the Marksman, Dr. Wolf, and the Hero sneak into the Franklin Inn, one of the most ornate buildings in Franklin. For this reason, the Enchantress covets this building for her palace. Instead, the heroes stealthily invade the building, searching for the best place to take the perfect shot…

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The Wizard leads his band of heroes into the town square, their weapons drawn. The Enchantresses’ guard allows them to pass, standing menacingly on either side as they pass. The Enchantress stands, recognizing the Wizard and company with a chilly smirk. 

“Well, well, well,” growls the Enchantress seductively, “you’ve finally given up this pathetic excuse for an insurrection and have come to bend your knee?”

“Not exactly,” comes the rugged reply from the Gunslinger, his eye focused on the crystal sitting atop her scepter, “you’ve got something I want, and I’m here to take it.” His hands grip his rifle even tighter.

“Not to mention you’re being a horrid visitor to this fine town,” interjects the Wizard diplomatically. “Your illegitimate rule of this town is at an end. You could lay down your scepter and leave without further incident.”

A wicked smile flashes across the Enchantress’ face. “I hold the supreme power of the realms Wizard. Your machiavellian revival is certainly a feat but your powers pale in comparison to the glorious power contained within the stone.”

The Wizard nods, “So be it.”

*FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTT*

The Enchantress flashes a jeering smile. She turns, facing one of the Marksman’s arrows suspended in mid-air, the broadhead just centimeters from her nose, stopped by her magic. Her grin grows devilish as the arrow explodes into a million splinters, still hanging suspended. She holds the arrow remnants in the air for several seconds, then allows it to fall to the ground.

Suddenly the Enchantress raises her scepter, sending a green tinted cosmic blast hurtling at the Franklin Inn’s middle spire. The energy blast smashes the spire, leaving a crater in the side of the hotel, mortar and metal being blown back in the building.

The Gunslinger snaps his rifle to his shoulder firing off several rounds in succession at the Enchantress, but just as she did with the Markman’s arrow, she freezes them in mid-air. She then walks over to one, and plucks it out of the air, like one might do with the most succulent grape from a bunch. She examines the 45 caliber bullet for a brief moment and then laughs, letting it fall to the ground. The bullet bounces once and then comes to a rest. Still laughing, the Enchantress makes a pushing motion with her hand, sending the bullets hurtling back at the heroes. The heroes dive and cover to evade the bullets but when they raise their heads they see the bullets frozen in place in front of them. The Wizard waves his staff and the bullets disappear as an orange cosmic sparkle. 

“You’re not the only one who can perform parlor tricks, Enchantress,” quips the Wizard derisively.

“It’s party time,” whispers the Barkeep as he cracks his knuckles, slipping on his knuckle dusters. 

“Indeed,” replies the Distiller, flexing his staff in his hands.

“Okay Wizard, that’s enough. I’ll enjoy destroying you and your collection of fools,” spits the Enchantress, sending a ray of green-tinted cosmic energy flying at the Wizard.

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In the Franklin Inn, what used to be one of the most exclusive rooms you could ever rent in the town of Franklin, now lies at the bottom of the stairwell, nothing but a pile of rubble. Dr. Wolf and the Hero are picking through the wreckage, looking for their compatriot. The pair had been thrown through the door leading into the stairwell when the Enchantress’ strike hit the building. They returned to try and find the Marksman, but they were unable to locate him.

Suddenly a faint cough can be heard. The Hero and Dr. Wolf dig through the rubble, removing heavy pieces of mortar and wood beams from the pile until finally they find the Marksman. Luckily a folding dressing screen had got blown between the Marksman and the rest of the rubble, preventing him from being injured from sharp or rough debris. His coughing intensifies as he blows mortar dust out of his throat, like a cloud of dust being pushed out of a dirty chimney. The Hero offers a hand, reaching down to help him up. The Marksman takes his hand, groaning as he finds his footing. 

“I guess it was kind of ridiculous to think that we could solve this with a single arrow,” says Dr. Wolf humorously to the Marksman, in part trying to provide some solace that the shot did not hit. 

“I suppose it was,” agrees the Marksman. “I just thought maybe if she didn’t know what was coming.”

“No worries,” replies the Hero, looking over the rubble into the town square, “It looks like you might still get your chance at her, but it’s going to be more difficult.”

“More difficult?” asks the Marksman incredulously, walking over to peek over the rubble.

The Marksman peers over the rubble and surveys the scene. The Wizard and the Enchantress were slinging spells back and forth at each other, each one blocking or dodging the spell and then answering in kind. The other heroes were focused on the large numbers of the Enchantress’ guard closing in to destroy them. 

“It’s about time we get down there,” says Dr. Wolf, he had walked up behind the Hero and the Marksman and was surveying the scene as well. The Hero nods in agreement, drawing his sword.

“Are you sure that we can’t just take a few more moments to rest,” complains the Marksman jokingly.

“Oh I wasn’t talking about all of us, but you can come if you want,” replies the Wolf, a wild look entering his eyes.

 

Narrated by Brandon Warner