Author Topic: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick  (Read 21636 times)

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Offline HappySinner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #50 on: January 15, 2006, 12:27:20 PM »
HappySinner’s broadsword rang from its scabbard as he drew it and leapt forward, swinging with all his sinewy strength. The blade flashed down and struck the slug’s tongue near where it entered the deer carcass, severing the appendage and causing the thick, mucousy fluid that served as the slug’s blood to spray from the stump. A loud gurgling grunt issued from the creature as its front third thrashed around in agony as it still attempted to slide back into the safety of its pit and away from the source of this unexpected pain. Sinner’s sword flashed again, and the front end of the slug containing the mouth was separated from the rest of its body. With a final guttural grunt, the slug’s bulk collapsed, still sliding slowly backwards under its own weight into the pit. A vile odour emanated from the wounds on the slimy corpse, and there was already an increase in the noise coming through the thinning mist as other slugs reacted to the scent. Splashing, grunting and dragging noises increased around HappySinner and WarNick as the Filth Slugs of K’Rul sensed an easy meal in the offing, and followed the scent - directly towards the two brave travelers from the lands of men beyond the Treeless Plains of Bezel.
“We know two things for sure, my friend” said Sinner as he was joined by Nick, spear at the ready. “They bleed, and they die. That’s good enough for me. Are you ready?”
Nick looked across the flatland at the Pits of K’Rul. The Filth Slugs were starting to appear, and the land was now dotted with the bulky shapes of the vile creatures. These things were deadly, but they could also die. Mortality was playing no favourites this day, so the young warrior musician smiled grimly and hefted his trusty spear, flexing his throwing arm.
“We have a battle to win, a mountain to reach and some holy guitars to claim, Sirrah, or our souls to lose trying. We have come too far to become snail food. These Filth Slugs of K’Rul will find me a bitter meal, and one none too easy to swallow - we fight!”
« Last Edit: January 15, 2006, 12:30:03 PM by HappySinner »
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Offline Ormsby_Guitars

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #51 on: January 17, 2006, 12:06:24 AM »
hurry up and kill the evil wood chipper!!


Offline HappySinner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #52 on: January 17, 2006, 12:09:22 AM »
Methinks Darth Luthier has the bloodlust about him...
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Offline Ormsby_Guitars

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #53 on: January 17, 2006, 03:07:44 AM »
YEs, who do you think inspired the BLOOD RED Vortex of DEATH on nick's guitar??

Offline HappySinner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #54 on: January 17, 2006, 04:44:22 AM »
Sure - Darth the Vegan...
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Offline Nosaj

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #55 on: January 17, 2006, 07:57:36 AM »
At the risk of ruining the plot. I'm in this story somewhere apparently.
So what kind of Metal classification would You give to CuntScrape?

I would say Thush Metal.

Offline HappySinner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #56 on: January 17, 2006, 08:26:56 AM »
hehehehe...



HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEhehehehehe...
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Offline chewie

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #57 on: January 18, 2006, 02:28:56 AM »
add me!
i'll be a corpse rotting in a corner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #58 on: January 18, 2006, 03:34:24 AM »
Haha you can be like a boulder or a gum tree. Part of the scenery.  :P

Offline chewie

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #59 on: January 18, 2006, 03:37:09 AM »
damn mouthy postwhores ;)

Offline HappySinner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #60 on: January 18, 2006, 08:09:36 AM »
You speak as if being put in the story is a good thing...


How strange...


hehehe.
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Offline chewie

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #61 on: January 18, 2006, 08:12:31 AM »
nick should kill me cos i think ive coveted his guitar the most

Offline HappySinner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #62 on: January 21, 2006, 09:50:49 AM »
The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
Part 11.

Weapons drawn, the pair started off at a brisk jog across the flatland, keeping a keen eye on the approaching slugs. They kept as far away from the pits as they could, seeking the wider spaces between the holes as they ran. Behind them, the first slugs to arrive at the decapitated corpse had begun to stab and slash the free meal with their deadly tongues, dragging pieces free to be sucked whole into slavering, toothless mouths. Ahead, the pits were more numerous and spaced much closer, so the men’s path would no longer be a clear one. HappySinner looked left and right and saw no better route than the one they were taking, which was blocked by a huge Filth Slug. The slug was heaving its way between two closely spaced pits, its slimy bulk taking up most of the narrow passage. HappySinner and WarNick stopped their advance at a safe distance and surveyed the scene. On either side slugs were approaching, having sensed the presence of potential food. They were not fast but they were numerous, and the adventurers’ options for maneuvering had all but run out as they were being encroached upon on all sides by the blind, slithering slugs.

Sinner came to a decision. “Straight ahead is as good a way as any, and we’re out of time for speculation - I’ll draw the creature’s tongue, lad, and you see what you can do with that spear”. He took off to his left, and approached the beast. Sensing him, the slug reared up on its rear third and turned to face the threat. In this position the slug had a height advantage over the human, and reached out a questing tongue, probing the air for its enemy. Sinner, broadsword extended, circled warily and flicked the end of the slugs tongue with his blade. “Here, you sack of excrement!” he cried as the slug turned towards him. “Move your carcass out of our way and go slobber on the feet of your master... Hey!” A rod-like tongue shot directly at the minstrel’s head, missing by a hair’s breadth as he ducked to the side. The slug was in attack mode, and its razor barbed tongue was as fast as lightning. Its full attention on Sinner, it turned an unguarded flank to WarNick, who was crouched waiting his chance to strike.
“Now, lad!” cried the rangy northerner as he parried a snaking blow from the slug. “Now’s your chance!”
The young warrior needed no second bidding. Leaping forward with a bloodthirsty battle cry, he drove his spear with all his might into the side of the slug, just behind the featureless head. He had no idea of the internal workings of these things, so didn’t know where a vital organ might be, if indeed the creature had any as such. The slug’s hide was as thick as an old saddle, but Nick’s spear was sharp and slid deep into the heaving bulk. The slug grunted in agony and tried to turn to face this new attack, but with all his weight behind his thrusting spear, Nick used the movement to completely impale the beast. The spearhead, dripping mucousy blood, broke through the skin on the other side of the slug’s upper half and caused the huge body to ripple in an ecstasy of pain. Unable to move properly now, the slug lashed aimlessly in the warrior’s direction, flailing about in blind rage. Seeing his opportunity, Sinner leapt and struck. Swinging from below, the northerner’s keen blade sunk deep into the underside of the slug, just behind the front section. The slimy bulk toppled forward, and was dead before its flesh had stopped quivering from its impact with the earth. Withdrawing his sword from the dead pile, Sinner noted the other slugs were now attracted by the stench of the new cadaver and had stopped their advance on the men, preferring the easier meal. He called to his companion as he scrambled past the dead slug and into a clear space between the pits.
“Well done, lad - these other slugs will feast on their friend for a while before they come after us again. Time to make some ground!”
Nick was already running towards the passage between the pits previously occupied by the Filth Slug. The other slugs were too close for comfort, and he had no desire to feel a barbed tongue between his shoulder blades. A slimy feeding frenzy was underway as the pair set off again, weapons at the ready. The flatland was now almost clear of fog; save for a few tendrils of foul vapour that wafted up out of the pits. The rocky slopes at the base of the Mount of Orms were visible in the distance, and it was towards that objective that the travelers drove. As they passed a small pit a medium-sized slug, feeling the vibration of the men’s passing, probed out into the air, tongue extended into the path of their flight. In one movement, WarNick drew his shortsword and swung with an accuracy born of endless hours in the training halls. The tongue fell to the ground, still twitching with nerve activity, and the grunting slug withdrew into the pit with a splash. HappySinner’s blade was active also, decapitating anything that appeared above the edge of a pit as he ran between them. The men’s breath was coming in ragged gasps as they pushed their aching bodies to the limit, both knowing full well that if they were caught amongst the Pits of K’Rul when the sun went down, they would not live to see the dawn!
« Last Edit: January 22, 2006, 10:15:20 AM by HappySinner »
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Offline HappySinner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #63 on: January 26, 2006, 11:18:04 AM »
The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
Part 12.

“How’s - our - progress?” Asked Sinner between breaths as he removed a slug’s head, complete with probing tongue, with a swing of his blade and shoved the twitching body back into its pit with a bloodstained boot. He did not look back at his young partner, but ducked past an ominously bubbling pit and into a space of ground that was relatively free of both holes and slugs. WarNick took a quick look over his shoulder and judged the distance back to the now indistinct Living Forest, then turned to look past his friend to the far edge of the K’Rul flatland. The tiny foothills that encircled the base of the Mount of Orms were becoming clearer, although the view was uninspiring. Grey rocks - among which grew some scrawny, stunted trees and a few tussocks of wispy grass - were all that was visible to the eye at this distance, apart from what appeared to be a concentration of slugs right at the flatlands’ edge. His attention was then drawn to the pit that Sinner had avoided as it suddenly discharged a cloud of pungent vapour and a small slug, no bigger than a large village dog. Sheathing his sword, Nick used his spear to vault over the back of the juvenile beast and join his friend, who was eyeing him with a quizzical expression. Sensing his question, Nick said, “That thing’s obviously a baby. If I kill it, we might have to meet its mother”. Sinner chuckled, and nodded for him to continue. “I judge us to be a good two-thirds of the way there” said Nick, “Although that crowd of slugs looks ugly”.
“Fair enough, lad - a good thought about that slug” replied Sinner. The slug was lying quiescent at the moment, and seemed unaware of their proximity. “I saw those slugs, too. It looks to be around the mid of day, although these clouds make it hard” he continued. “We’ve made good time, but I don’t know if we can go around those slugs and still beat the sun. Straight ahead is the only way”.
Nick nodded in silent agreement, and then smiled grimly as he drew his sword. “Straight ahead it is. We’ll slay those slugs when we come to them”.

Sinner cast a glance around them and noted the positions of the nearest slugs. Only a few had sensed them and were lumbering to investigate, but a few was enough to warrant a quick resumption of their crossing. The pair set off, heading directly for the Orms Foothills and that curious gathering of slugs at the edge of the flatland.
A slug rose from a pit in Sinner’s path, heaving its bulk onto the pit’s rim and probing the air with a snaking barbed tongue. The minstrel’s blade flashed, but the blow was misdirected and severed a mere forearm’s length from the tip of the questing organ. Enraged, the slug grunted in agony and raised its front third, turning to face the source of its pain. Ducking to his right, Sinner circled the wounded beast, looking to get past it and leave it to be cannibalized by its slimy kin. Turning his back on the writhing creature, he could now clearly see the edge of the flatland, where the pits ceased perforating the earth and the ground was solid and safe. He could even see a stretch of land just to left of the gathering of slugs, where he and Nick could safely... Sinner’s view of the foothills sudden became a flash of overcast sky as his legs were struck from under him with such force as to make him fall heavily to the sodden earth, the breath knocked from his body. The slug had dropped and struck out low with its injured tongue, deeply slashing the thick hide on the backs of the minstrel’s heavy boots. Sinner had dropped his broadsword when he fell, and was lying, temporarily immobilized, on his bow and arrows. Glancing up, he could see the approaching slug still had a few razor sharp barbs left near the tip of its bleeding tongue, which was almost within striking range. Gasping to regain his breath, he struggled with his stunned muscles, urging them to life-saving action. He raised himself on his elbow and frantically looked around for his sword. Where was it, by the gods? Too late, the winded minstrel saw his weapon, lying just out of reach. The slug was almost upon him when he remembered his dagger and drew it from his belt. Hopelessly under armed, Sinner climbed to his knees and raised his puny blade to ward off the blow he knew was coming. If he got lucky, he might hack another few inches off that deadly tongue and buy himself enough time to escape. If not - well, Nick was a brave and resourceful lad, and he would make his way as well as any man...
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Offline HappySinner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #64 on: January 26, 2006, 11:18:38 AM »
The slug had raised its front section again to strike at the downed human when a blood-curdling cry erupted from behind the attacking creature. WarNick had dispatched an encroaching beast and turned to see the slug take Sinner’s legs from under him. Seeing the broadsword go flying and the northerner’s body collapse upon hitting the ground, he immediately dashed to his friend’s aid, sheathing his sword and readying his spear as he ran. As he approached he could see the slug raise its head to attack the prostrate Sinner, and knew he could do only one thing if he was to save his friend. With a battle cry worthy of a chieftain, he leapt upon the heaving back of the slug without breaking his stride and thrust with every ounce of his strength into the back of the slug’s head as it drew back to strike. The impact of the blow nearly threw the young warrior from his precarious perch, but he hung on grimly to the shaft of his spear as the slug, now mortally wounded and unable to lower its head to attack, threw its bulk sideways in a dying effort at counter-attack. Withdrawing his spear and nimbly leaping off the back of the rolling slug as it writhed in its death throes, Nick rushed to his companion’s side, concern showing through the grime and caked blood on his face.
“Sinner...” he began, then stopped as the minstrel held up a restraining hand.
“I’m fine, lad... now” he said, slowly finding his feet and recovering his sword. “I owe you my life for this one, I think”. With that, Sinner extended his hand, which Nick took and clasped with a smile. “If that’s the case” he replied, “I’m sure we’re even, after all the times you’ve saved my tail on this journey”.
“Done, then” said Sinner, and looked at the now-dead slug. “I wonder...” then, looking towards the foothills, “Yes - they heard the commotion, now they smell the blood... look”.
The slugs that were gathered at the edge of the flatland had been attracted by the vibrations of the battle between slug and man, and now could smell the blood from the slain Filth Slug. The crowd was dispersing, the slugs spreading out as they tried to find the quickest way through the pits to get to the slimy carcass.
“If we’re quick, we can skirt around them and make that clear ground over there” said Sinner, already turning to move as he spoke. “I don’t know what was so interesting for them in the foothills, but it obviously didn’t stand a chance against a free feed - here they come”.
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Offline HappySinner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #65 on: February 01, 2006, 03:53:50 AM »
The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
Part 13.

The slugs from the edge of the flatland were now halfway to the dead bulk that was to be their unexpected meal, and the men wasted no time in choosing a course that took them around the heaving beasts. A chorus of slobbering grunts reached their ears as they made their way at an angle to the flatland’s edge, aware also of the slugs closing in behind them. HappySinner’s condition was improving with every step, but WarNick still had a steadying hand on his arm as they made haste to escape the grunting, slimy obstacles - He was taking no chances on losing his companion at this last stage. The approaching horde’s attention was fixed firmly on one thing, however, and the bulk of the dead slug was soon surrounded by a frenzy of heaving, bloody activity as it was cannibalized. Neither man spared it another thought, but focused on reaching the foothills, and safety.

“They’ll make short work of that thing, but I think we’re clear and clean, providing none of these pits spit up a problem for us” observed Sinner as he eyed the distance to the foothills. Both men jogged along with swords drawn, as they had learned that danger could spring from any direction at any time as they traversed the Pits of K’Rul. Nick cast a glance skyward, noting that they had ample light to see them to the foothills - a collection of low rocky outcrops, really - and settled into whatever shelter they could manage for the night. The barren rocks looked like they would offer little comfort, but they did offer protection from the slugs, and a chance to regain some energy before attempting to scale the almost featureless sides of the Mount of Orms.
“They’ll be well fed, which is more than I can say for us” said the young warrior. “I’ve not a scrap left in my pack, unless you fancy chewing on that last grass torch I made.” The water skin tied to the side of his pack would not hold more than a few sips either, he knew. Best not to dwell on that now, he thought to himself. Time enough for finding provisions when we’re past this.

As they came to the last of the pits they slowed to a walk and stopped, turning to see where their path had come. The dead slug was long gone, consumed by its own kind. The attacking slugs had dispersed, some crawling off to forage for more food, others sliding into a pit and underground with a heavy splash. Sinner heaved a long sigh and looked toward the nearest outcrop of rocks. They were safe from the Filth Slugs, but what lay in wait for them among the rocks at the base of the evil mount? For now, they would need some sort of protection from the elements once night fell. Off to their right, near where the slugs had been gathered, there was an interesting rock formation in the side of the mountain, a large depression framed by massive columns of rock on either side. The rocks around the grotto looked unnaturally worn, so with a gesture to Nick to follow, Sinner moved to investigate. “That place there looks like a safe spot” he said, pointing to the overhang above the grotto. “There might even be a bit of a cave between those pillars.”
Nick was examining the ground around them as they walked. “I’m happy with anything that puts distance between me and those slugs” was his reply. “You know, there’s absolutely nothing here that looks like it would attract a swarm of those things. Why were they crowded down there?”  He indicated with his spear, pointing towards the pits. “There’s nothing up here.” He sounded almost disappointed.
“Nothing we can see” replied Sinner. He was still looking up at the worn rocks near the grotto. There were definite signs of wear, as if things - heavy things - were repeatedly dragged over and behind the rocks and into whatever lay in the grotto. The rock ledge itself was about head high, so whatever was doing the dragging was big and powerful, or numerous. The rangy minstrel was in no mood to face more creatures out of his childhood stories, and the nearer the travelers drew to the grotto, the thicker the air grew with a feeling of dread. Sinner stopped and surveyed their surroundings, searching for any hint of danger. Behind him, WarNick cleared his throat and shuffled his feet nervously. He could feel it too, like a palpable thing around them - the feeling of being watched.
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Offline HappySinner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #66 on: February 01, 2006, 03:55:34 AM »
“This place is or was used by someone - or something” muttered Sinner, regarding the grotto and its rock columns with distaste. “Those rocks are well worn, and it wouldn’t surprise me if those stains are blood.” Indeed, there were dark discolorations on the worn rocks, faded with time but still visible to the eye. Taking a few steps back, Sinner looked left and right along the outcrops that spread around the base of the mountain. As far as he could see in either direction, the foothills climbed to a modest height before abruptly ending with an almost vertical rock wall reaching up to the low clouds that hung perpetually overhead. No holes, no caves, no way through, save whatever lay inside and beyond the grotto, with its suspicious stains and wear marks. The place had the air of a sacrificial altar about it, and both men were on their guard, nervously eyeing their surroundings and fingering the handles of their swords.

Sinner had walked down towards the edge of the flatland where the sodden earth gave way to rocks and pebbles. Stopping to look back up at Nick, who had seated himself on a pile of boulders near the right hand column of the grotto, he said, “There’s no sign of the slugs being able to move onto the rocks. It must hurt them to crawl on ground so dry and rough. At least we’ll have no unwelcome guests in our beds tonight.”
“Thank the gods for that small mercy” chuckled Nick as he loosened his pack and let it drop to the ground next to his spear. “I’ll be looking...”
The warrior never finished his thought. A huge disembodied voice bellowed from the rocks around them and filled the air - stentorian, venomous in tone and at a volume that caused both men to flinch;

"YOU’LL NEED MORE THAN YOUR GODS TO SAVE YOUR SOULS NOW, HUMAN!"
« Last Edit: February 01, 2006, 01:20:20 PM by HappySinner »
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Offline 2006chasec

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #67 on: February 01, 2006, 11:03:15 AM »
 ;D  

Too cool for words.  Looking forward to an ISBN so I can recommend your writing to the Federal Australian Education Dpartment.....

Love ya work...
:P

Offline HappySinner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #68 on: February 01, 2006, 01:22:09 PM »
Ta, Chasemund...

I would've been out looking for a publisher, but ISBN in my front room, writing...  :P




...get it?  eh?  eh?  :D
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Offline DuskyBlackcat

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #69 on: February 01, 2006, 01:23:07 PM »
boom tish*

stick to what ya know mate  ;) ;D
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Offline HappySinner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #70 on: February 01, 2006, 01:40:43 PM »
Like... annoying you?  :-*
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Offline DuskyBlackcat

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #71 on: February 01, 2006, 01:43:25 PM »
*looks left
*looks right

who stole my flame thrower?? ::)
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Offline Ormsby_Guitars

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #72 on: February 01, 2006, 07:51:24 PM »
Quote


I would've been out looking for a publisher, but ISBN in my front room, writing...  :P



you idiot :P


Offline HappySinner

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #73 on: February 01, 2006, 10:48:33 PM »
 ;D
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Offline Boginator

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Re: The Tale of HappySinner and WarNick
« Reply #74 on: February 01, 2006, 11:09:54 PM »
Great humour especially for 3a.m :P