No rest for weary

"I think because no mic?" the newcomer was saying in his strange prosthetic voice.

Vader paid the oddling little mind. Instead he stepped away from the group and imitated those movements that the elf had performed earlier. If NPCs treated him as a player, perhaps he had the power to call up the same 'menus' as one.

And to his surprise, a white text on black background panel appeared before him. 'Log off' was greyed out, of course. He tapped 'character description'.

'The dread knight is a former hero or knight, who fell in battle before he could repent for some heinous act he committed. His tortured soul has been brought back from beyond the grave to wander the earth as a creature of darkness and servant to the god of corruption.

A dread knight is as terrifying in battle as he is skilled in it. He's capable of surrounding himself with an impenetrable cloak of darkness, which fills his enemies with fear and despair while boosting his own attributes.'

It was all fairly stock; a standard description for a standard game monster. He kept looking. 'Settings' and 'help' were fairly unhelpful. Before banishing the whole menu, he took a peek at his inventory.

Armor, cloak, sword, and... an individually wrapped twinkie??? What in the name of Corruptus??? That was definitely not part of a Dread Knight's standard kit. He tapped on it to view the description.

'If kept in inventory, grants character the following ability: Orb of fear- ranged attack which causes minor damage with a 30% chance to cause Fear or Paralysis.

Try not to eat it!'

That... somebody put that there. But, why?

He closed the menu and looked around, as if the answers he sought would be floating in midair about him or something. That's when he noticed that they were not alone. What at first looked to be misshapen trees on the edge of the clearing were ambling out into the open. Apparently these woods were infested with spriggan. The vile creatures hissed and chattered to eachother as their bodies creaked and groaned like old timbers on a windy day. Eyes glowed a sickly green. Though evil, these faithless creatures were no friends to the agents of Corruptus.

He drew his sword once more, wrapping one hand around the ricasso and the other around the bottom most section of the handle.

"I suggest you dispense with the pleasantries and draw your weapons," he advised his new comerades.

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