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Notable fatalities: King Lear, Hamlet, MacBeth, the list goes (?) on.
Moral Crusaders vs Moral Terrorist(s), who shall come out victorious?
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~Erik, Lord of Berserkers
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A Ranger's Tale
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The skies were of
clearest blue with nary a cloud, the seagulls’ call being every seafarer’s
constant companion. Mayhap only the navigator keeping count of days passed by,
this was merely a voyage for many, yet an endless journey for the rest.
“Have
you seen Joyce?” queried a worried Southgate Garatt, paternal instincts kicking
him in the gut once again.
“No,”
shrugged the navigator, “We’re in dead middle of the Endless Straits, so rest
assured that we won’t see that frisky lass swimming naked.”
“I beg your
pardon?” snarled the stocky brunette, a strong hand shaking his intended target
like a worthless cur, “Kymm Lios, you better shut your mouth before I do it for
you!”
“Try
employing another navigator afterwards then,” grinned the roguish lad, his
tattooed torso bared, “You don’t hire living beings from inside the Endless
Straits.”
“Try
me.”
“I’d
rather try that girl…”
“WHAT?”
“Kymm is
referring to weasel lass, not frisky lass,” quipped a bleary eyed Lara, a slender hand
covering her yawning mouth, “Don’t make so much noise early in the morning!”
“Early?
It’s already noon by my own guess,” retorted Southgate.
“You’re
two hours off, Stonegate!” beamed an annoying Bigan in triumph, “I’ve finally
invented something capable of telling time via a shadow cast!”
“Dumbest
motherfucker. The School of Structuring already did that,” muttered a derisive
Kymm.
“I heard
that, virgin,” grinned the Goblin, his smiling mug insinuating something about
to happen, “I managed to insert a workstone after assembling the necessary structure.
Sorry for killing your bird by accident. Parts do fly away due to unintentional
accidents. Tasted like chicken though.”
“What?
You ate Budgie? Come back here, you son of a green bitch!”
“Dumbest
motherfucker,” growled Southgate, “Whatever ‘necessary structure’ means
anyway.”
)0(
“More! I want more!”
Well, his look is a real bummer.
What’s wrong with asking?
“More of what?”
“More of your stories!”
Wow, I’m so clever to tell him
what I want. Dad was right in encouraging me to ask for anything.
“Fuck the stories! I only cook up
shit for fun.”
Huh? Wait a holy sec, I need to
get this clear.
“Erm… good sir, what is fuck and
shit?”
“Shit is something everyone does
since birth. As for fuck… well, you’ll grow up to be a man sooner rather than later.”
Well, I guess that’s a good
enough answer.
)0(
Guy woke
up in an instant, his sapphire orbs greeting the skies beyond and his paramour
inside. He did not understand why Joyce’s existence is capable of getting
Southgate hot under the collar, but surely trouble was his second name by
birth. At least I’ll die a happy man once getting caught with my pants down,
mused the self-deprecating blond.
You’re pretty good for an
unschooled cub, do you not know that?
Damning
memories skewering his soul, this was a certain seductress cutting his heart
apart. If not for her, he wouldn’t be here. If not for her, he wouldn’t have
little to no qualms in shagging any lass outside his beloved Alestrial. Yet,
who was the one starting the proverbial fire? It wasn’t the Grand Damsel, but that man.
That man in his dream…
Any
sombre thoughts entertained moments ago collapsed under the weight of his fiery
loins, the culprit none other than a dainty hand brushed across his crotch.
Blushing furiously despite the apparent, Guy Cody wished he could jump into the
sea right now.
If only sharks ain’t real…
“Joyce!
I know you’re in there with that boy!” frantic pounding shocking his senses
like a winter spring, the young lion knew he’s officially screwed, “Come out
this fucking moment, you get me?!”
Attempts
in getting dressed verily futile, the sandy blond realised it’d take some time
for his erected member to stay down. Then it happened all too fast, the door to
Joyce’s room broken down.
“Oh hi,”
grinned a sheepish Guy Cody, a hand raised in response to Southgate’s bulging
stare.
“Mmm,
Guy… heh heh heh…” giggled a still sleeping Joyce, “You’re so strong and
forceful.”
“Wait! I
can explain this!”
If the
young Kalaran thought he could slip away through a momentary miracle, Southgate
Garatt was about to prove somebody wrong.
“FUCK
THIS SHIT, YOU BASTARD!”
)0(
“So let
me get this straight,” asked an impish Bigan, “You managed to…”
“Shut
up, green jackass,” snapped Southgate.
“Don’t
call me a green jackass!”
“Oh, and
‘tis acceptable for me to become Stonegate?”
“That’s
‘cuz you looked like a stone statue nine times out of ten!”
Jase and
Konnor could only balk before a comical brawl unfolding before their gaping visage,
Moggray Tonn chuckling akin to no tomorrow. If Guy had any reaction from an
overzealous fight, he merely tried looking somewhere else. Only to discover an
irate Joenne staring down at him. Swallowing his saliva nervously, Guy tried
getting away to no avail. Getting yanked backwards forcefully, Guy Cody finally
understood any rumours pertaining to Joenne Nances’ absurd strength was no
laughing matter. Even though he suspected that was down to his current
circumstances.
“Pervert!”
screamed Joenne, her shrill voice piercing every listener’s ears, “I hate you!
You know we all like you!”
“Huh?”
“What’s
that reaction, Konnor Riples?” retorted Joenne with a finger pointing at his
direction menacingly, the young Home Guard of House Steele becoming her next
potential target, “I know you because Ales always mentioned your name.”
“Lady
Joenne,” coughed Jase in a civil manner, a curtsy accentuating a deliberate
show of pomp, “May this lowly scion be so daring to ask who are the ones you’re
referring to?”
“I…
well, I mean everyone here likes our moronic friend,” clearing her throat, an
embarrassed Joenne tried putting up her bravest front, “Right, moron?”
“Sorry,
this moron here is not impressed,” frowned Guy, his arms folded together in
non-amusement, “I’m also…”
“Answer
me,” requested Jase Steele, his glare pointing barbs against Guy betraying a
majestic air belonging only to a war commander most able, “Is it true that Lady
Karen likes… this smallborne?”
Under
ordinary circumstances and equally ordinary people, Jase’s demand would have
invoked fear from every watcher. Unfortunately for him, ordinary folks would
never get themselves into unarmed fights and armed battles within the same
mention. Mayhap Lars was right in calling him both lion and a man. Then it took
place all too suddenly, a massive boom resulting in a mast broken and killing a
nearby sailor. Joenne could only stare with horror, a dead man’s skull split
open like a grotesque melon casting a binding spell on a noble lady. She had
seen nothing like this, was this truly what war is all about? Before she could
even attempt an answer to a question numbing her mind, her throat got seared by
fire and flaring pain. Then came darkness forevermore…
)0(
If Blind
Bart was capable of sight, no one would have batted an eyelid over the fact
that he’s able to sense actual things even from three miles away.
Unfortunately, his youngest crew member got himself into trouble. Making huge
strides impossible for a blind man, Bart grabbed the poor boy by his neck. If
the rest had any questions waiting to be asked, they chose to keep quiet
because a silent man is the wisest man.
“Brat!”
snarled the wiry pirate, “Did I told ya’ to fire yar crossbow?”
“Baw…
bawss…” stammered a frantic lad, his knees undermined by fear.
Nothing
was uttered hence after bar a bloody fountain, gurgling sound hailed from an
open throat akin to music to Blind Bart’s ears. Tossing a youth nearing death
overboard, a swarm of sharks gleefully accepted their present bestowed. He
needed not any instructions to give, every single word was explicitly stated beforehand.
Wreck their ship, take their gold, fuck their bitches, and kill the rest. If
anyone knew the secret behind Bart’s supernatural sight, that person was no
longer deemed alive.
)0(
“Shit!
How many men we’ve lost?” hollered Southgate as he hacked down yet another
pirate.
“Don’t
ask me, moron!” roared back Jase, his keen blade biting deeply into its latest
kill, “Konnor… Konnor! Where are you?!”
“Come
and get a dead man and your rightful due if you dare!”
Jase’s
heart skipped a beat upon recognising the speaker and his tone. Surely Konnor…
)0(
“Eiyo
bawss!” exclaimed a gleeful man old but strong, his fellows tossing a shrieking
lass onto the deck “We gert par’cell!”
“Fark da
par’cell,” grinned the leader, “Jus’ ‘member ter lemme ‘ave da last an’ finest
sh’ot.”
Ignoring
the victim’s heightening screams, Blind Bart signalled to his right hand man.
Taking over the telescope from his superior, the middle aged sellsword nodded
silently.
“Help me
see if there’s anybody worthy to fight.”
“Aye,
bawss,” taking a minute or two to complete his task, Bart’s second mate gave a
salute even though Bart would never see this coming.
“Anyone?”
continue whispering the pirate lord, his leer betraying a lust to maim and
kill.
“Two
boys, one dead and the other alive,” came an apathetic reply, “The one left
standing seems to have slain at least three to four of our brothers with every
damned survivor cowed. Guess they need either stick or cunt.”
“G’oad,”
snickered the blind bandit, the customary pirate accent making its return, “Dismees’d.”
“Surely…”
“...nawt?”
Bart’s laughter sounded like a terrible spectre, a hand slapping his
counterpart in a friendly manner, “Ah’ deares’ Neut, go ‘anjoy dat lil’ kow o’er
‘der. ‘Eef ‘er arss steel intact, ye bee ‘er first moite.”
Impassive
visage giving way to a sadistic smile, Neut promptly stripped himself naked
while barking harsh orders to his men. As for Blind Bart, he only had one
intent.
Indeed I’ve seen one like me
after so many years. Tell me, boy… what is your Truth?
)0(
“E… E…
Ed?” stammered a nervous knave wielding a pair of knifes, “Ye go’s first?”
“Dun b’
fool’ reetard!” snapped Ed, “See wat sod did too sex o’owr fellas jus now?”
The
battle remains raging still, time had frozen in place for Ed and his fellowmen.
Here before them stood a lion amongst men, his stature akin to a towering king
of beasts. Silence accompanied him, terror was their companion. In one hand
gripped a golden spear, the other clenched into a fist. None could discern the
dead man’s identity, everyone knew this was a fight unwinnable. In a blinking
of an eye, Ed and his other two friends were brutally cut down. Only then did
the lion revert back to man.
“Guy!”
snarled Southgate, the sword Gemma bequeathed unto him decorated with blood and
bits of entrails stuck on its surface, “You son of a bitch better do something
about that smiling son of a scoundrel, get me?!”
An
initial dumbfound expression soon gave way to a massive fury unrivalled, any
semblance of composure ceding ground to burgeoning rage. Never before had he
imagined this to happen even though fundamental logic decreed otherwise, surely
the pirates’ living toy was already wasted. Keen sapphire orbs unable to tear
themselves off a broken lass continually raped, woe be unto those incurring the
wrath of a god. A god not of holiness, but one belonging to war and spear.
Never dwelling at any paradise utmost high, but wearing a coat made from flesh
and blood. How Guy wished for the courage to confront himself, for he truly
dreaded the day where people ended asking him where is Joenne Nances. An
innocent party killed, another now akin to the living dead.
“Saints don't exist, boy. So long as you retain the
courage to admit your flaws and face this cruel world, ten years from now
you'll be a splendid man.”
Was that an advice or mockery disguised as such? Never
before had Guy tried answering simple questions wholly profound, let alone just
one. Recalling being mocked an idiot devoid of worth, how he wished time would
suddenly reverse its course and staying put. Futile regrets begetting futile
lamentations, he knew what needs to be done.
“Let’s
have a wager, cretin. I bet you’ll get laid less than two years after I and
Elys get married, deal? Just don’t tell me that stupidest obvious, okay?”
Everything seemed to move in slow motion currently,
the young lion of Teesside allowing instincts to supplant his humanity. With a
roar shattering the heavens and dispersing flocks of seagulls, Guy Cody now
only desired one single result.
Their
boss…
)0(
Feeling a tremor shaking her heart, Karen Tenias
paused to contemplate the reason. Being locked up like a prisoner in luxury was
one thing, unease ravaging her inner self quite another. Attempting to seek an
absolute solace nearby, she reached out for that one thing preserving her
intact from that trauma. Ransacking
whatever left of her belongings, the daughter of House Tenias prayed fervently
to the Father for a positive outcome.
Only to see a damaged portrait torn nearly into half,
a split sundering Joenne’s smiling face.
Why…
O’Father above, please don’t let this be true. I beseech You to grant Guy Your
strength, for chivalry is the mark of men blessed with a lion’s heart…
)0(
“Arr’, boy, yer fearful o’me?”
Bloodshed for now ceased upon Blind Bart’s behest, no
one was idiotic enough not to understand his intent. Before his cooing taunt
stood a young boy no older than the one he fed to the sharks, his majestic form
invoking a guess creeping from heart unto lips.
“Lion versus a bat,” his sudden shift in accent taking
every outsider aback.
But not this boy whose glare betrayed a lion hungry
for vengeance.
“Oy!” hollered Bart, “Yer scrummy dawgs betta fark ‘er
till ah’ ‘ear ‘er beggin’ fer ‘mer, geddit?”
“Oh shit, this doesn’t look good, Scargray,” commented
Bigan, his default demeanor usurped by a grimace brimming with hate and
distaste, “What about our guys stuck below? You gonna let them rot?”
A sharp rapping sound from his spear butt echoed
throughout the high noon sky, Bigan’s ears stung badly at close proximity.
Understanding Moggray’s message, Bigan flashed a hushing sign one like Jase
would surely understand. Thankfully Brynn Steele’s only child learnt well thus
far, at least a nodding head would ensure its owner whole.
“Come here, cur!” shouted Southgate Garrat, his anger
displayed in fullest glory, “You raped, you murdered, you plundered. Your
bounty is here, cur!”
Jase turned a shocked glance at Southgate’s direction,
fear of reprisal seizing his heart with the tongue held to ransom. Before he
could even attempt calming a hardened soldier rapidly breaking down, somebody
else did the job for him. A hard fist to the gut was all Bigan needed to
silence an emotional man from getting under his greenest hide.
“Oh my, someone is gonna get killed.”
Swift as a pouncing cat, Lara von Dirkwind appeared
from nowhere, her abrupt assault cementing whatever assumed by Guy more than
mere days ago. However, her target was none other than Bart, any ambiguity
pertaining to her personal allegiance temporary put to bed.
Bart would have nothing of that though, a dagger
flashing across the Half Elf’s neck. Only to end up slicing empty air and a
mocking laugh.
Definitely a mistress of assassination arts, Lara’s
actual target was positioned merely two feet away or so. In a world where
sellswords and knaves ply their trade, only one law matters as the golden rule.
“Do anything, but don’t get yourself caught.”
With those parting words, Lara set about disemboweling
revelers born with a member each. Brandishing her dirk like a playful tabby
cat, Neut became her first kill. Irony behind death during anal penetration not
lost unto the fiery redhead, an ice cool calm ensured her mission accomplished
with nary a hassle.
Stunning flashes of silvery death beguiling every
watcher, only three individuals stayed unfazed. Moggray Tonn, Blind Bart, and
lastly…
Three men
in the middle of rape, the first to die being he who raped Joyce from behind.
Then the one forcing his way with her mouth and lastly that rapist ploughing
her crotch. The first blow was done through a normal grip method, the following
two twice as brutal with her dagger held in reverse grip. Two slashes from
behind and one plunging downward, three slashes not gone to waste especially
for her third man. Better don’t get myself castrated alive someday down the
road.
)0(
“Eh, the omen sucks man,” drawled Conwer, his flippant
attitude earning a slap from behind.
“Do not make a jape against the death’s decree, boy,”
rang a raspy voice, a wizened Elf glaring back like a living embodiment of
judgment true, “We are cursed and blessed at the same time to dance with
mortality.”
Conwer tried devising a witty response, only to be
silenced by an individual only slightly stronger built than him.
“Huan
de Weon, Meister Elder and fellow brethren in black, please allow Conwer to
enjoy his moment. For war is nigh, our Elven arms soon to taste blood and life
taken from others rather than our own.”
Huan de
Weon had seen many battles won and lost, many a worthy man fought and died.
Yet, this fellow Homm’Nua no more half a century older than Conwer was no less an
enigma incapable of fear. He who commands awe from the Shadow Brotherhood,
outright fear from the rest. A little wonder why Karen Tenias was fortunate
enough to survive those foul Demons’ murderous lust.
Woe unto you, O’Homm’Eot.
Kerstein de Bladefort.is ever hungry, his sabre wrought of Elven steel forever
starving.
)0(
O’Treachery, thou roarest in
crimson and gold.
O’Ceres utmost fair, thy blood
and chastity sheddest I shalt avenge.
)0(
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