The New Guys

When Setoth and Kal said we should ask for outside support, I was against the idea. Who out there was going to come and help us? We’re planning a suicidal, desperate attack against an untouchable god. No one else is going to be mad enough to want to join in.

Human race, I’m only going to say this once, so listen up. I am sorry, I was wrong. You have amazed me in a way I didn’t think possible.

Just look at all these people who came out to join our glorious battle! I don’t know what wonderful madness overtook them, but we’ve gotten several new members of the Operation Wintergreen crew, all ready for GLORIOUS BATTLE.

One of our very own regular commentors, Zabulon, was the first to arrive. Must have come straight from the airport. Seemed a bit disorientated when he came through that mirror gate thing which Setoth set up; I guess passing through that thing is even less pleasant than it looks. Or mayhaps it was the broken rib he had. I must give the man credit for traveling cross country with an injury like that.

Between him and Setoth, we now have two guys who look like girls in this group. I’d make a joke about that, but I feel I really don’t need to.

Dante arrived shortly afterwards, driving up from Corpus Christi. Having visited Corpus once, I can understand why she would choose to want to be in an eldritch dimension which defies all natural laws instead of staying.

But that isn’t the wonderful part. Oh no, the wonderful part is this: Dante brought a shotgun. That’s right, for the first time in any of our blogs’ history, we’ve met someone who had the forethought to bring some genuine firepower! What’re you going to do now, Javert? Oh, sure, you’ve got that little pistol thing, but we have A FRIGGIN SHOTGUN! Cannot wait to see it in action.

Course, we couldn’t stop at just two people joining in. That would have been reasonable, which is a thing we are attempting to avoid. Two more showed up roughly twenty minutes after Dante’s arrival; one Jared Brookover, and an Alan Hartford. Neither of them have blogger accounts, but they claim to have been following us. They’re the oldest here; both in mid-late twenties. Seem to be of the experienced runner variety, so I’m surprised they decided to drop the running now and join in the fight. Looks like we’re being INSPIRATIONAL here.

Sadly neither of them brought a shotgun. Which means that Dante essentially has more firepower than all the rest of us combined.

But that’s our little rag tag group of freedom fighters. All nine of us. None of us have even hit 30 years yet (hell, JD’s 12), none have any formal training in fighting, only one of us has a weapon worth a damn, our plan is one of the most suicidal I’ve ever heard (and that’s saying something), and we’re fighting an immortal god which could kill us all in an instant. Because we’re the mad ones, the ones who choose to stand above the herd of pathetic apes, and challenge the unchallengeable. Oh, many of us will die. It would take a miracle for even a single one to make it out alive. But when we die, it will be in such a way that none shall ever forget our story. The stars shall quake as we tear down the heavens themselves, and blaze ourselves a burning path of glory. There is a special seat prepared for each one of us in Valhalla, and I intend to finally claim mine.

Time to smite some gods.

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