Untitled David Adler

Glocklot forced the Darkrider’s Blade away from his skull, using a crude dagger that he grasped tightly in his vice-like grip as a makeshift barrier between steel and an untimely death. A curious creature, he was known to be a skilled warrior when it came to using his wits and cunning, and this was the result of many years of intense training and bloody skirmishes. Intentionally, he gave way to the driving force behind his enemy’s blade, and swiftly ducked and dove out of the way. The Darkrider flew forward over the edge of the chasm that the he had gradually been forcing the Gremlin into.

The roll down the steep hill that resided behind him had momentarily scrambled his senses. He stood up to his full four foot height after a few minutes of steady panting, and took in the vast landscape that lay before him. Beyond the sharp drop of the precipice, craggy mountain peaks pierced the moonlit sky. And far below the cliff’s jutting edge lay a vast, seemingly never ending expanse of jungle.

This was it. This is where he needed to be. Stowing the dagger in his leather pack,he withdrew a small, spherical device, and pressed a button that made the small screen flicker to life. He raised his long arm high in the air, and brought it swiftly down on the ground beneath his feet. The device shattered, and after a few seconds he let out a long sigh of relief, and started to make his way towards the edge of the cliff overlooking the jungle. The shards then started to hiss and melt, an acidic smell reached his nostrils.

Without looking back and with no more than split-seconds hesitation, he dropped and activated his suit, quickly uttering the word “lock”. The whoosh of the air being rendered apart by the black fragments did not stop, even when a large fragment grazed his stomach, and he let out a shriek of pain. Several smaller shards went into his sides, piercing his unactivated black suit. As quick as he could, he began rolling towards the chasm; he barely even registered the movement. A combination of both training and instinct took over.

He was rolling faster and faster by the second; debris was being propelled everywhere behind him, effectively blocking the black darts built in homing devices. Glocklot immediately realized that this earthly cloaking device would not last forever, and effectively lunged at a rock jutting out of the semi vertical cliff, his short stubby fingers latching onto the rough sides.

This, in the end, effectively attributed to his unpleasant fall, and the gravel that surrounded the rock made it nearly impossible to grasp, andf he plunged into the leafy abyss that lay below him.