Violence is drawing nearer with each sunset. I welcome the war cries that echo over the Rockies to the Himalyas. I will soon have the stains of war upon my hands...again.
I remember when I was young, the boars fed me, the magnatheres fed me. The rocs even provided me with a little meat now and then if nothing else they gave me something to trade to those stupid trolls. Poor pathetic miscreants worshiping those silly trees. Point is, food was easy to come by. I could enter any trade post, lay my gold on a table and walk out with a belly full.
I lived oblivious to the economy of the world. Lulled into contentment of the weekly wood chopping chores, the nightly collecting of minerals that my well trained golems harvested from old Mother earth. As my axe got dull and my belly got fat. I waxed in the glory of my own arm... but not now. Food is scarce.
Now I stand ashamed; exiled from my warrior clan for my participating in such non warrior skills as pet grooming. Hell I even joined a poker tournament or two just to try and gamble some coin for a little extra food.
What can I say? I was desperate for food. The boars, the mags, the gyronts, nautaloids; Even the daily slaying of the toothless troodants that seem to appear out of nowhere every six hours for a bit of coin wasn't enough to supply my family, let alone myself the food needed to grow and advance in such a writhing world as this. I imagine my days as a fear inspiring warrior will soon come to an end as customers turn their heads in silent mockery of my new trade.... pet grooming... gambling.. I had no choice...*sobs*... Don't you understand? I had no choice? But be warned... my training in bows is not kept merely to the peasant's pets. I will draw blood on those that mocked me. I will find food. I will live! Muahahahahahahaha
Exiled Warrior, Future Pet Groomer Extraordinaire-- But still deadly and mean
No really I swear. I'm bloody mean... oh why are they laughing at me?
Last edited by CørvisCorvâx on Fri Feb 24, 2012 11:48 am, edited 1 time in total.
It's amazing what one learns in the gossiping halls of a pet beauty salon. I never thought it would come in any use....just boring banter from angered people with nothing better to do....
This morning as I left my beauty shop, I over heard two mobs shrieking at each other. I can only assume it was another turf war between the Troodants and the Trolls probably over who got to stand outside my stone cave or something stupid as usual. If they'd just let Maria move in with Tony maybe the gang riots would stop in this neighborhood. But no, this generation is filled with hatred and violence, which I'm sure, is due to the education systems... I know you haven't seen a school house in this world... and that's my point. These kids should be in school not loitering causing trouble in front of my store.
As I stood watching in anxious boredom, a troll had the nerve to comment on my new found trade (What men can work in beauty salons, just ask Paul Mitchel). The natural warrior spirit told me to crush his skull and send it home to his mother with a bill for his father for carrying out the job he should have done years ago. But the twerp was so far away and I had been standing all day bathing dogs and boars. I hardly felt like running madly into the chaos. I craved for his head on a pike though and so I shouted a few things about his mother, a troll hut, and the mysterious magnathere that seemed to reside within. The trolls' eyes lit red with anger and stalked toward me swinging their Elvis hair cuts. The young troodants laughed, so I put them in their place with a little more gossip I had learned from the salon. They quickly joined the fray that was now hurrying toward me.
I grimaced, "This is going to be a lot more fun than bathing stinky dogs."
With a single swing, I cleaved through the necks of 3 trolls who foolishly charged into my axe. Carrying through on my swing, I let my shield smash into an overconfident troodant. He sat down dazed and confused(but without the dope and silly school party cause there weren't any schools, we covered that). I came back around and proceeded to take out the rest of the mob, hacking through the horde limb by limb. A troll attempted to flee, but I caught him in the back with a bolt of my crossbow. Then there was silence.
I closed my eyes as I wiped the entrails from my brow. I remembered back to better days and found myself at peace as though this blood bath had not just decorated my store front. I needed a new career one with less brutality.
My axe dripping, I sauntered down the road with a smile and a delight never to return to the forsaken pet salon. I waved to the mayor as if it mattered very little that he had just witnessed the slaughter. All for a taunt...and yet I felt void of anger. What sweet serenity comes with insight to the soul. I wondered how this would affect business tomorrow but then acknowledged that I didn't really like that job anyway and admitted I would not be back.
Food was still scarce though. Perhaps tonight I'll prepare my territories for farming. Nothing earns food like growing it yourself. Right?
--- Just then the world went dark and everyone fell into a coma... except those guys wearing the black opal rings. Somehow they managed to walk out of the stadium. Be advised, if you see dead rocs falling by the flock, you may be near a testing facility. Wrap your head in aluminum foil and relocate pronto.
But wasn't the blackout only 2 minutes and 14 seconds? We're almost at 18 hours here. We're all going to be Veggetables when the world opens up again.
Auto corrupt gets me all the time... Just Sunday I meant to answer a question regarding Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail...
The question: What floats?
A few people cast out silly answers like really small rocks, leaves, and such.
While I confidently shouted... well.. It should have read DUCK....
And now a message to you stupid Android Auto Corrupt hopefully this shout reaches the ends of your etherspace.
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