The gamer's name is "Lavion", which means in french : The Plane. (texte en français juste après ce texte-ci)
writtin by Tibardaga, the reporter/healer.
My 170 horses engine are trampling nervously at the exit of the tarmac. The control tower has just refused my access to the track "silver 15". Gnawing my brakes, I eagerly wait for the voice of the air traffic controller.
Finally, a "grrr .... grrr ...." in my old headset announces the expected message:
- "Control tower to Lima Alpha Victor 97400. Track Silver 16. Your buddies are already on site."
Releasing my brakes with relief, I head for the Silver 16 track. The windsock shows 5 knots west wind, so, crosswind. No big deal, the rage in my stomach can stand every devilish wind and nothing can make me turn away from my goal. Just for curiosity, I inquire the control tower :
"Lima Alpha Victor to Control Tower: The landing site's weather?"
"Control tower to Lima Alpha Victor : Fairly clear sky, low ashy ceiling, no precipitation except fire intermittently, temperature = 1800 ° C in the surround. The center is not measurable.
" Not even afraid. The City of Ashes is not available in silver mode. Indeed, landing softly, no crosswind, no need to "decrab", or even play bearings. Flying quite regular, only few sweats for the "fun".
Light and joyful takeoff with a most pleasant crew. We run through the map with facility and ended up the game within 15 minutes. Back to our airbase without any wound, ready for another adventure.
Everything is allright, until Tilbardaga, the reporter, asks innocently: - "Lavion, are you coming in gold level with us?"
But she does not know, Tilbar, that Lavion has no gold level experience and only the word "Gold" sounds like a mirage?
I hesitate ... proclaiming the fact that my skills cannot afford the gold color. She insists on, the naughty one : - "Come on, Lavion, don't let us down!"
Bingo! Right argument : I hate to let down a team. I come to the unbeatable fact : A training is a training. A plane missing and the whole battle can be lost. I then agree to try the gold stage with my Buddies... My first one, indeed.
On the tarmac, everyone is pampering, caring, screwing bolts and oiling engines. For my part, I figure out a checklist as complete as possible:
"The bow, coated with a booster product (recipe unknown, but good Lord it stinks, must be some berseker's hormones), a good bunch of arrows (be sure the rubber's tip is removed), the brand new leather armor the sexiest possible (Tilbardaga said she might take pictures), food, potions ... Ah, soulstones (sixty of them, you never know what happen.) Not to mention the pair of knives forged by a friend dwarf of mine. "
- "Control Tower in Lima Alpha Victor 97400. Gold Track 13. Take-off immediately."
Hands a little bit sweaty, legs a little bit jelly, I let go of the brakes, grabbed the stick and headed for the track Gold 13 ... Damn, hope I'll survive. Take off in crosswind but it's through my throat that I feel like a cross. Landing on site without an inch of stress, my companions rather relaxed and happy, which helps me regain some confidence ... until the "reporter / healer" says: - "Well then, if you are dying without being healed, it is because I'm taking pictures, don't you worry. "
I feel my oil turning soot and my propeller twists with apprehension. But "Black Dragon", the leader, laughs. So it's ok ... Although the presence of my former flight instructor, "Black Dragon", reassures me greatly, the fact that "Wahya" (another companion), is missing most of the steps and "Tilbardaga" taking pictures instead of healing, does not generate a 100% trust. Or maybe, having great faith in the Divine would help.
The Divine, oh yes! I take a moment of recollection and pray hard... Anyway, this can't hurt.
Has my faith blow a blessing wind or the Divine ear heard me? I could not say, but the walk through the "Elden Hollow" is playful as varied: The bosses resisted, but not that hard and in front of our super united crew, none was able to hold on for more than few minutes ... Eventhough "Wahya" repeatedly went off in the wrong direction of progression, "Tilbardaga" grabbed her camera more than her healing staff, we went out brilliantly! So greatly that I wondered if we were in a real "gold stage".
However, during our acrobatic skirmish with one of the last bosses, "Black Dragon" inquires, in an extremely considerate and diplomatic tone:
- "Say, Lavion ... What are you shooting with?"
Weirdo question ... To which, lacking spontaneous imagination, I naively answer :
"But ... With my bow, what else ?!"
"Ah ..."
This onomatopoeia could have been interpreted in many different ways, until "Tilbardaga" the reptile's tongue (normal, she is an argonian) whistles :
- "And do you load arrows in your bow? Hi! Hi!"
Arggh, these Argonians! Their sense of humor is sometime out of reach ... but her mark questioned me however : What ? My arrows are not keen enough? I check my ammo ... But do not quote anything unusual: Good little arrows out of rosewood made with love by my own elven hands.
Well, the message is clear: I am not efficient in my fighting skills.
" Come on, Lavion, you can do it. At the next boss, I hit the turbo and will show them, what is a Caribbean airplane is capable of!"
We stomp the bodies of our enemies and land, proud and sure of us, in the room of the last boss. Beautiful in its dim lights and scents of lava. The "appetizer" passes very quickly ... And ... emerging from a daedric gate, a hideous Dragon as big as an Airbus 380, roaring like a nuclear engine, its atrocious teeth ruffling a mouth exhaling hell. The room gains a few tens of degrees Celsius as it exhales.
And there it's : I have the shaking sheet metal syndrom and the bolts are starting to unscrew.
"Courage, Lavion ... You are a war machine, don't you forget!"
The "fire" is ignited. After a few minutes, the boss floods his demoniac fire platform and calls his troop: His own healers, as well as the awful "mental vampires" crew. We heat, burn, sizzle and melt. Back to back, "Black Dragon" changes tactics again and again without gaining a slight of victory. Nothing happens ... Then I heard it, always in a very diplomatic tone but this time, somewhat tired:
- "Lavion..."
- "Yes ?"
- "How about fighting with your daggers and give up on your bow?"
- "Ah, yes ... Of course, of course ..."
I draw my blades, trying to be as steady as "Wahya" the warrior.
But ... if I have chosen a bow, it is because of my extreme shyness and any relational promiscuity scares me to death. Especially of this kind, passionately hot. With so much ardor, I lost my mind, I melt, I liquefy before being able to slice out any piece of dragon's leather with my poor daggers.
Everyone is preparing for an eighth and new attack. "Black Dragon" explains to "Tilbardaga" that she should try to give a little blow to the dragon's healers with her fire staff, just to interrupt them a bit ... Like this: He shows it.
Tilbardaga answers : - "Like this?" and stroke a fireball right on the waiting boss, triggering hostilities. Everyone went crazy ... I make a desperate assault on the boss with his fire breath ready to blow and I hit deafly without knowing nothing else. Somewhere far, I heard : "Lavion, where are you?" to which, I answer that I don't damn know. I can't see where I am amongst all this burning fire. I can't even aware what I really am in all this mess... except the fact that I'm hitting, hitting, hitting on the bamboo trees. And this makes me feel good.
Alas... All at the rebirth oratory, we landed. Once again.
We headed for a new offensive when I heard, somewhere far away in the headset :
"Hello Tango Papa Charly ... Hello Tango Papa Charly ... We are looking for you everywhere ..."
This identification recalls me something, very vaguely ... like a "beyond life's memory". The call became more and more insistent and attracted me like a magnet. I just had time to tell my companions:
- "I'm sorry, my friends, I have to leave ..."
And hardly realising it, my engine turned to the maximum, take-off speed. The rotation was like a dream ... I see a triangle and ... looking down at my body that I feel less and less, I see that my armor has been replaced by a simple ... Bermuda! The Triangle ... the bermuda, it evokes something, somehow ...
Who tailored me that costume?
Where am I ?
Wait ... a moment ... I'm back.
Let me land.
Thank you Lads for this adventure !
