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Arc One: Death of a Militiaman
GIANTSLAYER Book One: The Battle of Bloodmarch Hill Last edited by Ziether; 06-15-2017 at 05:43 PM. |
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Last edited by Insacrum; 06-19-2017 at 03:52 PM. Reason: Fixed some grammar issues. |
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__________________
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![]() I dream nightly to follow the- A taste of flowers and razor blades and dung and epiphany sears across his tongue like fresh acid. In its wake a calm quiet descends. The furtive mind unravels, coiling outwards tentatively like a tongue prodding the space where a tooth once resided. For a brief, brief moment he finds himself alone and void, a being of pure matter forgotten in a dead universe. Brief beyond measure the respite, as soon the crowded street will assault his senses again. Trunau isn't the largest city he's visited in his shortvenerabletoolong existence, but it is dense with life. A hard, desperate life, often enough. It and its people have served him well these last few years, in both wealth and resources. The desperate often fall for desperate solutions - a fact he is discerning enough to capitalize on. The cowled robe shadowing his weathered face is of far finer make than the one he'd arrived in. In all likelihood, there are more than a few old men in this crowd, despite the average life expectancy of a Trunau native. Rose's piping voice could be calling near anyone, yet he knows instinctively that he's being addressed. The front of his cowl swings upward, the corners of his mouth chewing nervously on the bushy grey nest of his mustache. He has no choice but to answer the charge, though the thought of all that attention sets his mind to skittering. His gait as he wades through the crowd is awkward though hardly hindered. Despite his height he seems to dwindle between revelers until the clear space before the platform looms large. Then he is out in front, a gangly figure in disfiguring black, soon mounting the stair at a young woman's behest. Furtively, his fingers rise to peel back his hood, revealing a rictus grin courting a wild light in his deep black eyes. The lines on his face grow even more pronounced under the strain, yet he takes his place at the rope with narry a grumble.
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You merely adopted fantasy; I was born to it, molde- yadda yadda yadda. You get it. I'm far too old for comics and video games...
...Which ones did you say you had again? Last edited by Icereach; 06-19-2017 at 02:42 AM. |
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__________________
Swear upon the oath, and may your adventures be fruitful Update 07/05/18: Quick update on my situation; TL;DR: I'll be back soon DM Death Count: 20 and counting Last edited by Ziether; 06-21-2017 at 11:41 AM. |
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__________________
Status (2/8/19): "Eh..." Condition I talk about my games and gags on the Unofficial RPGXing Discord! Last edited by Maskain; 06-20-2017 at 01:05 AM. |
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We are winning!
We are losing! We are winning! We won! Simple thoughts, these, but at least they are his own. What began as an exercise in keeping with local customs, and perforce keeping local customers, soon blossoms into something delightful and exciting. The spindly arms that scrabble at the woven strand move freely and solely of his own conviction. The frowning brow is his own expression, not that of a man thrice his age. His jaws unlock and spare further grinding of his teeth, displaying a smile near beatific with peace. Strange all around, considering his circumstances. His apparent age playing no part in his recovery, he waves away Rodrik's aid with seeming good-natured grace, clasping hands only after regaining his dignity. The earnest congratulations touch a soft space within his chest for a time, though it will fast begin to fade. Indeed between the roaring crowd and the directed attention he begins to feel the edges fraying on the outermost territories. While his mental expanses are great, it is only a matter of time before the nothing devours the very heart of him once again. He welcomes the idea of getting away with relish. He is less enthused when he realizes such getaways still include company. How far was he willing to go, really, to satisfy public decorum? A little further, he realizes instantly, as the prospect of attempting to flee the brothers strikes a chord of unwarranted terror hard enough to cause a stumble. The feeling persists even as a sausage is pressed into his hand. It mostly hangs there, limp as the fixed smile on his many creased lips, while he listens to Rodrik say his piece. What is it? He knows its there, a niggling piece of something just tickling the back of his brain. He is not a man to ask questions of the living, preferring instead paper and ink and silence and flesh. The others are allowed their say; those answers are freely gleaned by all. What is it? Subversive... Attention sparks his attention. He realizes with a start that his hood is still draped across his back, revealing every twist of his mind across the lunatic folds engulfing his features. He stares the aspiring Bard! in his eyes for a panicked moment, then coughs out a single, unsettling excuse. "Mental instability!" The laugh that follows, of course, could only further serve to prove his point. It isn't the mirthless cackle of one lost forever to madness, however. The discerning ear notes instead the forced tones of a man laughing at his own poor joke, arguably an even worse offense.
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You merely adopted fantasy; I was born to it, molde- yadda yadda yadda. You get it. I'm far too old for comics and video games...
...Which ones did you say you had again? Last edited by Icereach; 06-23-2017 at 03:08 AM. |
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__________________
Swear upon the oath, and may your adventures be fruitful Update 07/05/18: Quick update on my situation; TL;DR: I'll be back soon DM Death Count: 20 and counting |
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"Sword and shield....?" The quizzical tone trails off as he looks away, apparently lost in thought. "No no, never touch the stuff, I'm sure of it."
__________________
You merely adopted fantasy; I was born to it, molde- yadda yadda yadda. You get it. I'm far too old for comics and video games...
...Which ones did you say you had again? |
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__________________
Status (2/8/19): "Eh..." Condition I talk about my games and gags on the Unofficial RPGXing Discord! Last edited by Maskain; 07-01-2017 at 01:37 AM. Reason: image side |
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__________________
Swear upon the oath, and may your adventures be fruitful Update 07/05/18: Quick update on my situation; TL;DR: I'll be back soon DM Death Count: 20 and counting |
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