Wednesday, September 3, 2008
This was pulled from our old guild website. I can never remember my password, or where it is, so I am including it here for everyone to enjoy. This post starts out nice enough, but the end is NSFW. You have been warned.
Since the meat seems slow in hopping to my pot, I'll share with you my tale. I am a troll warrior, one of the proud Darkspear Tribe. As a girl, I had to earn the right to my meals, and so quickly mastered throwing the table knives at the vermin that infested our camp. Scorpions and rats taste good when you know nothing else, and they help to build a slight immunity to poisons and diseases, too. (You watch Shawndra stir her pot, sprinkle an herb, and lick her lips, anticipating...) I grew a bit faster than the others, mostly because I could throw faster than they could, and soon I was helping draw out larger animals to feed the tribe. We were a sea loving tribe, and I found that I could easily crack a crab's shell, wrest a fish from the water barehanded, even wrestle a small crocolisk into submission. Still, food was never in great supply, and though my hunting was rewarded, I grew lean and tall, and constantly hungered. (Another stir to the pot, a look to her surroundings for her dinner, then a discontented growl as Shawndra sits under a tree near her pot) At ten, I came of age. Because food was so short in the village, I struck out on my own, picking up old weapons and castoff armor as I found it, wrestling my dinner into submission, camping in the open under a lean to covered with a hide cover I had sewn together from the hides of my meals. Hides and armor for clothing, fish bones and animal teeth for adornment, the dry grasses of the barren plains for my bed. Home it was not, but it was mine, and beware the one who tried to wrest from me my wealth! (Sighting a rabbit in the underbrush, Shawndra grabs her knife and flings it, skewering the bit of fluff and sticking it to the ground. She trots out, retrieves it, and continues her tale, while gutting and skinning her prize.) As I was wandering one hot, hazy afternoon, I saw ahead of me what looked to be another of my kind. I was just 13, and seeing another of my kind was strange, as I thought I would never see one again. But, then, there was noone. I blinked, rubbed my eyes, and looked again to where I saw it. Still nothing. Warily, I set down my pack, fishing out my tinder and flint, as it was mealtime, and I had caught a tallstrider earlier, and the smell of its blood was heady and made my mouth water. I set out a few small twigs, lit them, and grabbed some small branches from the trees nearby to feed the fire. As I turned toward my flame, the stranger I had seen afar had invited himself to my meal, having added his own branches to my fire and set some of my meat on to cook. (Meat prepared, Shawndra takes her knife, hacks the rabbit into chunks over the pot, stirs it a bit more, then licks her fingers clean. She returns to her place under the tree, tucks her knees under her chin, and continues her story) Quite angry for the intrusion, I unbelt my latest find from my waist, and poise ready to lop off the intruders head with my axe. Without turning, he began to speak. "I'm afraid you're at a disadvantage, woman, as I have the fastest blades in all the plains. Before that axe would reach half swing, you would be on your back with my knife at your throat. You'd do better to join me for lunch." Steaming, I decided to test his theory. Gripping my axe fiercely, I swung with all my might. Sure enough, he was on top of me, dagger at my breast, smiling cunningly at having disarmed me. "I like a feisty woman, even if she has no common sense to speak of. Perhaps now we can enjoy this meal you have caught and I have prepared, before it is cooked so much that the blood has dried and the meat is tough?" Fire in my eyes, I sat down to eat, though no longer hungry. I ripped at the meat, still rare, chewing it angrily. I stared at this stranger, who seemed so sure of himself, and hated him for destroying my solitude. How dare he take over my camp, cook my food, and best me. I pictured the fight going differently, his head rolling on the floor, and decided that I didn't much like that outcome either. Still fiercely, savagely gnawing the tallstrider's leg, I wondered what to do after the meal. Should I chase this troll off? Maybe I should throw my knife in his leg as a souvenir of our meeting? (Shawndra gets up, looking a little flustered, and she stirs the pot vigorously. Grabbing a small bit of meat, she pops it into her mouth. She ladles out a large bowl, sets it on a stump, then wraps her long legs around the stump as she lifts the bowl to her lips and drinks some of the broth. Putting the bowl down, she wipes her chin with her arm, and continues her tale.) No longer interested in eating, Shawndra watches this stranger. His dagger, placed in front of him as he ate, was well kept, the handle wrapped in some scaly leather. He wore all leather, and had no adornment, save the the leather thong woven into his braided hair. He was tall, and gaunt, not unlike herself, but looked to be older. "What is your name, strange man? I believe I should know at least that, since you rob me of half my meal." "My name is Hacksoor.", said the troll, in between rushed bites, constantly glancing at his blade and his surroundings. "Well, Hacksoor, I demand some repayment for this inconvenience!" Shawndra saucily threw her knife down, letting it's point dig into the ground very close to Hacksoor's dagger. "You shall have it." Hacksoor neatly finished his own tallstrider leg, threw the bone behind him, and grabbed his dagger. "I shall spare you your life, and give you some chance to practice using that hatchet of yours!" He grinned broadly, as if playing, both daggers drawn, and lunged for Shawndra. His dagger struck, but the armor held, and Shawndra swung her axe low, trying to take him out at the knees. Hacksoor jumped, easily clearing the blade, then spun around behind Shawndra and wrapped his powerful arms around hers. "Practice is over, little one. Now I that I have spared your life, let me introduce you to something more pleasurable than the kill." Hacksoor whispered hoarsely into her ear, wresting the axe from her grip and tossing it aside. He placed his daggers neatly aside, took of his cloak and spread it on the dry grass, in the full sun, all the while gripping her tightly with his other arm. Laying her down, he sat on her thighs, his legs wrapped around hers. With his hands on the ground on either side of her head, he lowered his head and kissed her savagely, nipping her lip. Not sure if she should fight or give in, Shawndra bit back, and tasting blood, sucked on his lip as he started to loosen her hauberk. Throwing that aside, he removed her mail leggings, then took off his own leather, making sure to stay where he could wrestle her back under him if she tried to leave. She sat up, and he tackled her again, now both mostly undressed save the things that didn't get in the way. Shawndra fought as he plundered, then decided to give in as she started to take some of her own out on him, nibbling his neck, tracing a hot tongue down his chest. She reached out and dug her claws into his backside as he pierced her with the only dagger she couldn't take from him, and she howled, hurt but having smelt the blood, craving more. Hacksoor whined, feeling the sheath his dagger had entered was tight and unused, and revelled in it. (Shawndra drained the last of her bowl, sloppily, the broth running down her neck in between her breasts. Uncaring, she got up, obviously heated, and leaned against the tree, arms behind her head, a smile curving on her lips.) I still see him, now and again. We are older, more experienced, and not as wary of each other as that first visit. But he still sneaks up on me, and fighting and loving are pretty close cousins, are they not? (Shawndra picks up her knife, and you now notice it has a scaled leather covering the handle. She twirls the tip of it on her finger, idly, pricking her fingertip. She sucks the blood off of it, sighs, and closes her eyes) Are you still there? Perhaps you'd like to tell me your tale....