The ultimate battle. The honor. No greater evil than this beast, the tyrant. He stood ten feet tall, a mighty club in his right hand. Steel sprouted in a cluster from its bulging knots to inflict the utmost pain. In his left hand a gnarled iron blade was held close. Upon an enormous plateau of stone and blood he stood with furs and jewels swinging in the sweltering, salty gale. Green lips peeled back to reveal marble teeth. Evil black tattoos swirled across the scabbed, bald scalp. The goblin king was truly terrifying.
But his valiant foe was not afraid. Gleaming white armor adorned the hero. Spectacular uncovered muscles protruded in all directions. Standing opposite the goblin king, he flourished his sword with elegant expertise.
For hours they had sparred, striking back and forth with fierce blows only to finally arrive here upon the plateau: the ultimate battle.
A mighty roar filled the skies as the king stampeded forward, swinging both arms dangerously from side to side. Air gasped as the weapons passed slickly through it. The hero dove fluidly to the side, rolled upright, and lunged. But there would be no surprising the monster before him.
The ugly black blade struck forward, narrowly missing the hero as he dove again. Twice more the hero had to avoid assaults. The edge of the plateau was fast approaching behind him. Thinking quickly as the goblin king raised both arms for a rain of stabs, the mighty hero sprang between the monster’s legs, slicing upwards along the way.
Furious bellows reverberated around the surrounding peaks as the terrible creature’s tail fell to the rocky terrain. The hero just managed to stumble to his feet, now drenched in coal-black blood, when the flat of the goblin’s blade came hurtling into his chest-plate. Next thing the hero knew, he was on his back many yards away. He could not breathe. He immediately began slashing as the straps tying the armor to him. The plate had been crushed, and was now only constricting. It was no longer of use.
Free of the burden, he hopped up and nimbly balanced on his toes, ready for another strike. Sure enough, the goblin was barreling forward, eyeing the target. The hero’s varnished muscles bulged as he leapt to safety. But the hero was exhausted. He could not keep this up much longer. He would have to make his next attack count.
Sweeping upward, his silver broadsword sliced through the monster’s left arm at the elbow. Blood dampened the hero’s sunny hair. More anguished cries arose as the goblin tyrant raised his stumped armed. Blind rage bled into the alien eyes as he thrust his deadly club at the hero’s throat with the remaining arm. The hero parried the attack, but his sword slipped from his grasp under such force and buried itself in the soil far out of reach.
The goblin king, dropping his club, fell upon the hero with an impossibly powerful arm. A vice grip closed around the hero’s throat. It was now or never. Thrusting his pelvis forward as hard as he could, the hero pushed the goblin king overhead, off the edge and down, down, down to the jagged rocks below.
After reacquiring his sword, the hero brandished it above his head as he called to his armies, signaling triumph. For centuries he would be known as Peace-bringer, Lord of the Free, The White King, Blessed Knight, The Laborer for Rest. He would live in the glory and the honor for all eternity, and would be immortalized as the perfect being: the hero who won the war; the noble soldier who could not be killed.
And so Isaac ran around in his green yard avoiding the flowerbeds. He swung a twisted stick and jumped off the old rickety picnic table. He roared and cheered in the glory of his kill, and was happy. He was happy to be the savior of the world, if only an imaginary one. He had fought gallantly for his new honor and pride.
Meanwhile, his mother was in the house. She stared out of the dusty windows at him, her son, her little hero, with fresh tears in her eyes. And in her shaking hands was a newly opened letter, smudged, reading: “I regret very much to inform you that your husband Isaac Preston Sr., No. 15443 of this Company was killed in action on the night of September 24th. He died honorably…”