From The Average Person

Had an adventure you want to share? A near miss or simply the story of your life!

From The Average Person

Postby Erill » Mon Feb 21, 2005 10:04 pm

From The Hands of A Mime

The sky was the blood black of a fresh bruise as the Mime walked away from the bloody body of an old man, wiping his dagger on a silk square of cloth. He walked through the dark, empty streets, a series of images flashing through his mind. The visions, the voices.....and the murders.

It had started a few weeks back. He was just a novice coming to the large town to apply his art. Things were slow at first, but as his skill advanced...well...the crowds diminished. He was down to his last few coppers when the voices had come.

After a few ales in a quiet tavern they had come, the voices. They promised power, fame, wealth and...something he longed for...his voice.

So strange something should manifest its self with the aid of something he didn't use. He had lost his voice when a band of goblins had raided his home farm. He was hit in the neck by a stray arrow. He would have died if not for a passing cleric. Becoming a Mime was the perfect choice of job.

He had woken up the next day, the night's activities a fuzzy blur, but the memory of the voices crisp in his mind. He checked his pocket, hoping not to have been robbed. He was staggered when he pulled out gold! Where had it come from? Did that matter? Not to him, he stood up and something fell to the cobbled street with a clatter. A dagger.

Everytime he woke he found more gold, the dagger and a fuzzy memory getting clearer. As the weeks passed his crowds grew and grew, bringing in more and more gold. There was something else though. If he concentrated enough, he could feel his hands grow warmer. After a few days, the warmth become a flickering flame, then a small ball of fire. He kept this secret close, no-one would know, not know until it was too late!

One day, he woke, and he knew something was wrong. He checked himself over. He had his dagger, more gold...what was it then? It struck him, the memories. No longer were they fuzzy, but clear, like the finest diamond.

The memories flooded through his mind, each night, in turn. Every night, the voices. Every night, the dagger. Every night, a murder...

He strolled toward his usual spot on the corner of the street and started his act.

As he was going through his act, the voices started. They were telling him of danger, his downfall, to be ready. As he looked up a Paladin lowered his sword, this would be a battle of magic, and he knew he would win...

From The Mouth of A Peasant

"'ere, i heard he killed him, just like that!" the tipsy peasant said while snapping his fingers with the sound a footfall on a bone exposed to many seasons of the elements.

"Heard? Heard?! I saws that murdering bastard do it i did" replied his equally tipsy friend.

"Well he is a Paladin like, he musta had 'is reasons" another put in while quaffing a beer.

"That don't give 'im the right to run around bloody murdering people though" said the first peasant.

"If he hads a reason....." the second started,

"I was bloody there i tell ya!" the first peasant replies, cutting across his friend.

"Look, all i'm a saying is....."

"You think that Mime cares what your saying? Its 'im that the streetsweepers will be cleaning up out the gutter, not you!"

"Aye, he has a point there like."

"Tis true as an ale on Sunday" says a fourth joining in on the conversation.

"Go on then, if you is so sure of yerself, tell us then"

"Tell yers what?"

"What bloody well happened"

"Oh, oh, well....thats not a nice thing.....speaking of another man's death an' ol"

"Yer next ale will come frem me then, now, out with it!"

Licking his lips at the sound of a free ale the man rubs his hands together and decided to make sure his tale is worth an ale or maybe two.....

"Well i was just standin there like, watching that Mime, you know 'im, the one with that scar an' ol. Well, he was doing his rope bit, and Erill just walks up, with his shiny armour and sword and shield an' ol! Anyway, he raises his sword and i thinks to meself, i thinks "Theres gonna be blood spilt today." And just like that he lowers his sword again" The peasant takes a long draft of his newly acquired ale and continues.

"And then he mumbles something...and theres this wind...."

"I told you not to eat the stuff that hawker sells" one of the other peasants puts in.

"Not that type a wind, idiot, the magic sort, and then...the most 'orrible thing I has ever seen, 'is head, it just....it just...."

"It just.....?" all the other peasants coax him on.

"Explodes"

"Explodes?"

"Yes, bloody well explodes, bits of 'ead and brain all over, ruined me ale an' ol, bloody huge bit lands right in....but never mind that.....theres more"

"Go on, what ye waiting for?"

"Another ale o' course" replied the peasant with a toothy grin.

"Dwar! Get this man an ale!" the man then remembers the size of Dwar, "Please."

After taking a good tug on his new ale the man continues his story.

"Then, quick as a *hic* flash, he turns around a skewers that dustman, you know the one, always around that corner, the one with the game leg."

"Old Bill, God no, I never even knew"

"You know 'im? Well....not 'im, the other one...."

"The other one?"

"Yeah, 'im, anyway, skewers the poor bugger. Then he whips around a' grabs the sword that the sword swallowa was a swollowin' and twists it!"

"Oh, he didn't"

"Bloody did, anyways, tha's when i got the hell outta there, good and fast an' ol"

"What do we do about Erill then? We cana let 'im get away with this like"

"What can we do?"

"We's could go to the Mayor, or, or them Knights down a' the White Castle"

The Paladin

He was lead through the street by a pair of large guards, bound, shackled, and badly beaten.

He had been at his room in Dwar's, going through his trunks when there was a hammering on his door. He gripped his sword and, keeping his distance, flipped the latch.

Dwar came running in and knocked the sword aside

"There coming fer ye lad, get yer stuff and run" said Dwar moving over to the window

"Who are coming, Dwar?" the stunned Paladin replied

"The Guard lad, the Guard..."

"The Guard, they're not coming for me!" the Paladin chuckled

"They are...they think you murdered a bunch a' people"

"What!?! I'm a Paladin, I'd never..."

"I believe ya lad, that why I'm telling ya. Go! The Guard sure as hell won't believe ya" said Dwar, turning to face the Paladin.

"They...they can't do this! I'm a Paladin!" replied the Paladin, rasing to his full height.

"They can an' will, they know it's against your believes to fight 'em, they'll beat you down"

"I won't run, Dwar, I won't! Not from the Guard, not from anyone", replied the Paladin, removing his armour and sword, "Let them take me if they will."

"Yer making a bad choice lad, they'll give you a good beating. They're honest men, but they don't like thieves or murders..."

"Thats why I'll be fine, i'm not a murderer or a thief." stated the Paladin flashing Dwar a dazzling smile.

"I hope yer right lad, I hope yer right" replied Dwar, placing a hand on the Paladin's shoulder.

They walked side by side down the stairs and into the bar.

"Think I have time for an ale before they come?" Asked the Paladin

"I'll make sure you do lad" grinned Dwar.

The guards ran in just as the Paladin was downing the last few drops of the sweet ale. He stood up, walked forward and offered his hands to the nearest guard. He sunk to his knees unconscious, the guard behind him wearing a pained grimace.

"Murder a buncha people in our city eh?" shouted the guard, and kicked the Paladin in the side.

It was a few seconds before the other guards joined in. It was a few minutes before they stopped.

"Lets get this pile a rat !&$# to the cells!" said a panting guard

They bound and shackled him, lifted him and dragged him away.

It was a few hours before the Paladin awoke. He ached all over, one eye swollen so much he could hardly open it. A few teeth were loose, and he could feel at lest three cracked ribs. He sat up and spat some blood onto the floor.

"Bas'ards" the Paladin mumbled wincing in pain as his jaw moved.
Erill
 
Posts: 58
Joined: Mon Jun 21, 2004 10:59 pm
Location: Glasgow, Scotland

Postby Qoith » Tue Feb 22, 2005 2:15 am

*turns the page* but the page is empty :(

ok - you got me hooked ... what heppened next ...

and you better not have some ELF doing a good deed in the story coz I would lose interest real fast :p
Qoith
 
Posts: 66
Joined: Wed Jul 07, 2004 10:02 am
Location: Lost under a pile of half completed LOS maps


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