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 Posted: Mon May 15, 2006 4:51 am Post subject: |
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We'll see. Stay around long enough, and I am sure it will be adapted.
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| Posted: Tue May 16, 2006 9:13 pm Post subject: |
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Don't worry, Lordy.
I've got a bad habit of nuking things too. Sorry if I sounded insulting or anything.
But good news...
We have a poll!
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| Posted: Wed May 17, 2006 6:24 am Post subject: |
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Even better, a poll.
Voted for sneaking out the back. We can't be too sure of our welcome, even when drunk.
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| Posted: Wed May 17, 2006 2:36 pm Post subject: |
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Great to see you reading this stuff, OT.
Hope you're enjoying it.
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Ravenwing
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| Posted: Wed May 17, 2006 8:20 pm Post subject: |
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Interesting smilies, OT
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| Posted: Wed May 17, 2006 9:06 pm Post subject: |
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I voted for stumbling out acting drunk.. that just seems like a more interesting read than him sneaking.. we have seen him sneak and drunken behavior is always fun 
Other than that cant wait to read thr rest of Larsons adventures.
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| Posted: Thu May 18, 2006 2:32 am Post subject: |
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Oooo, we almost have a tie...
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| Posted: Thu May 18, 2006 4:10 am Post subject: |
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| Quote: | | On more than once occasion, he’d roughed up a couple of drunken louts with no charge other than that they save a specific room for his use only. |
One.
Can Larson aim well? Even if he can't, he could just pitch the brick back and then sneak out. It's true that they don't sound like they want to kill him right off, but there's nothing saying that they might incapacitate him. Bad position to be in.
Nice story, by the way. 
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The Meaning Of Fear
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| Posted: Thu May 18, 2006 7:57 pm Post subject: |
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same as lordy 
well, come on jack! write the 4th chapter! all your adoring fans are waiting! 
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| Posted: Thu May 18, 2006 10:22 pm Post subject: |
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Viridian what is aether?(just curious)
and come on ppl where is the desire for drunken behavior.. thats one of the fun parts of Larson
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| Posted: Thu May 18, 2006 10:40 pm Post subject: |
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I voted for drunken stumblings.
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| Posted: Thu May 18, 2006 10:43 pm Post subject: |
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Hey It's our mayor!
Hey Smee go to the newbies thread and have a look! Me and Whitey are have a debate on whether you are a good mayor...I of course, am your side.
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| Posted: Thu May 18, 2006 11:28 pm Post subject: |
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Darn! 
stupid typos......
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| Posted: Fri May 19, 2006 2:18 am Post subject: |
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Aether is ether; I just like the difthong. (It just means the sky, the higher parts.  )
Druken behaviour might get him killed! 
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| Posted: Fri May 19, 2006 5:56 am Post subject: |
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Well that option didn't win. So don't worry Larson won't be killed while pretending to be drunk. LOL.
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| Posted: Fri May 19, 2006 9:34 pm Post subject: |
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Well Jack, you did it again. You were right, I do like this story. :nod: Very good start, and I must say you have a nack for discriptions :nod:
I say that Larson should be cautious... Going out drunk is not too smart, he could easily be killed. So I voted the other option. We don't want anything to happen to out hero!
So, I'll be waiting for chapter 5 :nod:
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| Posted: Wed May 24, 2006 4:30 pm Post subject: |
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Chapter 5
Sitting crouched behind the headboard of the big bed, he tried his best to shake the sleeping woman on the carpet from her drunken stupor.
“Hey. Hey, babe,” Larson whispered.
She failed to respond so he shook her a bit harder.
Finally rousing, she looked at him with blurry eyes.
“The back door. I need the back door,” The half elf explained.
Smiling a bit, she shuffled around and began to bend over.
Grabbing her hair and giving it a tug until she faced him once again, he made his displeasure obvious.
“Yes… but no! Not what I meant. I mean, not now! Like as in the way out,” The bounty killer continued, illustrating the words with his hands.
“Oh. Downstairs, hop the bar, down the wine cellar, left corner,” She informed him before nodding back off to sleep.
Kissing her lightly on the forehead, sure to not wake the exhausted woman again, he spoke in a hush, “Thanks, babe. A real lifesaver.”
Grabbing his twin tomahawks and his belt as he secured his boot knife, Larson struggled to remain silent and don his signature red cloak as he worked his way down the stairs that insisting on creaking much louder than he would have preferred.
Somehow, through some miracle, he made it down and into the foyer without being noticed, but that’s about when his luck became scarce.
The mercenary halted, stopping in his tracks as he heard his name called from across the dark room.
So much for stealing a swig from the tap, He mused.
“Where do you think you’re going, Mister?” The feminine voice inquired as it drifted across the room, followed not much later by smoke.
The first panicked thought to rush through the hero for hire’s head was that the place had already been set ablaze, but noticed just before when he would have soiled himself like a little girl that it was only in fact Kara, puffing away at her little pipe. A sigh of relief issued from his lips and he visibly relaxed.
“Nowhere fast, apparently,” He grumbled beneath his voice.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were in town? Why didn’t you come to me first? I bet you were with those damn triplets again, weren’t you? I swear…”
Cutting in in the only way that he could think of that was guaranteed to shut her up, Larson kissed the woman deeply, eventually feeling her clam in his embrace. Drawing back, he looked deep into her eyes and smiled a bit.
“But…” She began, crinkling her nose a bit and warming up for round two, but luckily, Larson’s fast thinking saved them from an ugly fight on the spot.
“Cause it was gonna be a surprise, hun. Now you’ve gone and ruined it,” He explained, running his fingers through her silken hair.
“A sur…”
He cut her off again, “I ever tell you how much I love you? Well , I do. I love you. I love you with all my heart.”
A complete lie, Larson’s mind chastised him as he winced inwardly for using the one word that he would normally only refer to as “the crucifier.”
But these were desperate times and those called for desperate measures, such as telling a spurned woman that you loved her while in the back of your mind you couldn’t stand to be in the room with the nag for so much as one more second.
Her baby blues opened wide and she blinked, all teared up. “R… really?”
“Umm… Yeah. Sure, baby. I love you. I want to be with you. I want to spend my life with you and I want you to bear my children and all that other sentimental crap,” He spat out, getting impatient.
Seeing a questioning look for a second begin to spell its slow way across her pretty little face, Larson began to feel around in his many pockets for a solution. Smiling, he noticed the problem solver as he found it. Just the thing.
“You know what, sweetie? Since we’re like all officially together now and stuff, I’d like you to do me a favor.”
“What doll?” She asked, cocking her head to one side.
Pulling the spud from his cloak, Larson presented it to her with a great flourish and extrapolated, “I’m hungry as hell. Can you fix this for me?”
They say that that slap echoed for three territories, and you’d have been there, you probably would have believed it too.
Crying as she fled up the stairs, Kara pouted, “And that’s always you, Larson. You don’t love me! You don’t want children! You just want me to fix yer Goddamned dinner!”
Being finally alone, the rogue began to rub his stinging face and wonder if he’d perhaps made some sort of mistake. Maybe it was something he said.
Having no time for such useless thought, the warrior picked up his fallen potato and continued, leaping over the bar.
Stopping for just a second, he stole a quick sip of some of the better whiskey, and after the resulting goofy face, turned his attentions back to the task at hand.
A couple of grunts later and he was in the damp wine cellar. He cracked his tense neck a couple of times with a loud snap and creaked the old hatch to the street open.
Peeking up, he saw a strongman with his back turned to him. Sliding up from out of the cellar, he stayed close to the shadows, hiding until the time was right.
When he was right up behind the bastard, he pulled his boot knife and put it to the man’s throat.
“What?” The man began to mutter, but was cut off when Larson whispered coldly into his ear.
“Shut up. The situation here’s obvious, but your type usually aren’t that bright, so let me explain… slowly,” He intoned, his voice cold as ice, sounding almost a completely different person.
“I understand plenty well, heretic. I am your hostage, but trust me , you should go ahead and kill me. The Seven Sons never talk that easily,” The smiling henchman remarked.
“Who said I was going to kill you?” The half elf replied, pulling another dagger and holding it close to the hostage’s groin.
He almost smiled as he saw the sweat break out.
“What if I let you live? But in letting you live, I cut you in ways that would hurt more than you could ever imagine… much less make you useless.”
“You can’t do that…” The threatened one said.
“Really, now? Apparently you don’t know much about elves.”
“Like what?”
“Like I could gut you like a worm in such a way that would leave you alive for another three days, where dogs and little kids can play with it ‘till you beg me to you slit your throat,” The hunter spat.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Sounds like it hurts, don’t it?”
“Nothing compared to the hell Lord Vavrin will send me to if I betray my clan,” The assassin replied, puffing out his chest.
Snarling, the knife in his throat dug in a bit, bringing some crimson blood. “You don’t listen too good, you goat raping piece of donkey crap. Pay attention.’
‘When I’m done with you, the hell that filthy second rate shadow lord sets aside for you is gonna feel like heaven.”
“No. I don’t think you understand,” The hostage spoke mournfully as he made an awkward face and fell dead from a poison that he had hidden in his mouth.
“Hell,” Larson groaned as he put the daggers away and drew out the tomahawks.
Coming around the corner, he noticed one man in particular with a green lined tunic and long blonde hair tied in a top knot.
This man gave a curious look in his direction and looked as if he was about to start in Larson’s direction.
Clutching his weapons tight, his decision was taken out of his hands. How he played this thing out now rested on if that assassin had in fact seen him.
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| Posted: Wed May 24, 2006 4:32 pm Post subject: |
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Now we have a new chapter with a new D-Point.
What do you guys think? Did the thug see him or not?
Another thing to bear in mind... are the Seven Sons really just seven guys or is it in fact a name of some sort of symbolic or historical reference, not meant to be taken literally. Not the DP, but just something fun to discuss on that one.
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| Posted: Wed May 24, 2006 4:41 pm Post subject: |
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| Quote: | | Smiling a bit, she shuffled around and began to bend over. |
Excellent line. 
I think yes, why not. He has seen him. 
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| Posted: Wed May 24, 2006 10:41 pm Post subject: |
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| Make it a 'yes'. Land him in the poo again
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| Posted: Thu May 25, 2006 1:36 am Post subject: |
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I thought he had been seen as well.
As for the Seven Sons, I expect they are only the religious head of the organisation, and they all have thousands of followers. Maybe one could represent each of the seven sons of a particular god or something.
Pr, it could be a group that always recruits the seventh son of each household. If they had a large enough selection base, then that would grow pretty quickly.
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| Posted: Thu May 25, 2006 5:28 am Post subject: |
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Well, I think the assassin would be pretty blind if he didn't see Larson.
I am thinking that the Seven Sons is just a name for a group. Whether or not it is has a theme to it, I am thinking not. I guess to them the name sounds sinister or something.
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| Posted: Thu May 25, 2006 1:36 pm Post subject: |
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I must agree with everyone else and say that he was in fact seen.
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| Posted: Thu May 25, 2006 8:51 pm Post subject: |
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I busted up laughing on that one, mate. LOL
| Quote: | Hey. Hey, babe,” Larson whispered.
She failed to respond so he shook her a bit harder.
Finally rousing, she looked at him with blurry eyes.
“The back door. I need the back door,” The half elf explained.
Smiling a bit, she shuffled around and began to bend over.
Grabbing her hair and giving it a tug until she faced him once again, he made his displeasure obvious.
“Yes… but no! Not what I meant. I mean, not now! Like as in the way out,” The bounty killer continued, illustrating the words with his hands. |
Oh my vote, is 'yes'.
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The Meaning Of Fear
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| Posted: Thu May 25, 2006 11:59 pm Post subject: |
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LOL! LOL! LOL!
THE BACK DOOR! LOL~~~~!
I agree with everyone else.
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| Posted: Mon May 29, 2006 4:51 am Post subject: |
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Glad you guys all liked that little joke.
But now...
I'm about to put the poll up here in a second, so enjoy your voting.
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| Posted: Tue May 30, 2006 1:24 am Post subject: |
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| Quote: | | [...] don his signature red cloak as he worked his way down the stairs that insisting on creaking much louder than he would have preferred. |
Donned.
Clamed --> Calmed. Etc.
Seems like we're all voting that way. But you like writing confrontations, don't you? :biggrin: Loved the way you made use of a seemingly useless potato too.
The Seven Sons could be literal, though it might point to seven factions/ houses/ whatever. I mean, seven was a number that featured a lot in a few religions, almost as much as two and three.
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| Posted: Tue May 30, 2006 2:47 am Post subject: |
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I have to say I'm not a fan of Decision Points where we're altering the plot, rather than choosing a protagonist's reaction. As such I've voted no, as I'm sure, given the choice, Larson wouldn't want to be seen.
Fun chapter though.
Happy Writing.
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| Posted: Wed May 31, 2006 2:53 pm Post subject: |
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Well you all know where I cast my ballot. Read the post if you don't remember.
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Stories
New Story: Glassbreaker Presently on Hiatus until further notice.
Truthseeker (Completed SGOTM)
Samadhi Traveler 2005 Nano Wrimo winner (53,019 words)
Our greatest glory is not in never falling but in rising every time we fall.
-Confucius
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The Meaning Of Fear
Respected Citizen
Joined: 06 May 2006
Topics: 13
Posts: 980
Location: In a deep, dark corner of the universe, plotting.
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| Posted: Thu Jun 01, 2006 1:06 am Post subject: |
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Voted for yes just cuz i wanted to read about larson's ass smashing karate moves...lol
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Cherish all your memories, even the bad ones, for they are what makes you who you are.
Doors to the truth, an SG where a boy is propelled into worlds he is unfamiliar with. He crosses many worlds, and sees many things that force him to throw away his innocence, once, and for all. Fourth Chapter, out for viewing!
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Ravenwing
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Joined: 18 May 2004
Topics: 17
Posts: 3750
Location: Virginia
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| Posted: Sat Jun 10, 2006 8:15 pm Post subject: |
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Looking forward to that next chapter, Jack.
_________________
Stories
New Story: Glassbreaker Presently on Hiatus until further notice.
Truthseeker (Completed SGOTM)
Samadhi Traveler 2005 Nano Wrimo winner (53,019 words)
Our greatest glory is not in never falling but in rising every time we fall.
-Confucius
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Jack_D.Mented
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Joined: 22 Jan 2006
Topics: 9
Posts: 958
Location: Hiding out in the woods of Washington
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| Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2006 5:42 pm Post subject: |
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Chapter 6
He looked the bastard right in the eyes.
He’d been made. This assassin was not dumb and knew what he’d just seen.
Raising a gloved hand, the demon worshipper readied to blow the whistle, but Larson was faster.
The half elf let fly with a tomahawk that sung straight and true, burying itself deep in the target’s chest.
He gasped a bit and slumped to his knees, black blood trickling onto the street.
Larson pumped his fist and celebrated with a small, “Hell yes!”
His victory was interrupted by the prodding of his back with a crossbow.
“And what have we here?” A rough voice asked just before clubbing him with the weapon’s butt and knocking him unconscious.
The assassins were loading their captive up onto the cart, tied with a burlap sack over his head, when the one to the right gave a peculiar groan and made an awkward face.
Sanzo almost asked his clansman if it was gas again, but he was stopped mid sentence as his companion teetered over like a tall tree, an arrow protruding from his back.
He dropped the bounty killer and dove under the buggy, hoping to avoid such a similar fate for himself. A wooden shaft whizzed over his head, giving him a good scare, but not taking off anything more vital than a few hairs.
“What’s goin’ on out there?” He called out, readying his crossbow, and winding it up with another bolt.
No one answered. He looked around a bit panicked and decided to blow the hail and cry.
He grasped the small whistle about his neck and blew hard. A shrill note pierced the air, followed by his own shouting.
“Brothers! Sons of the original Seven! To me!”
There was no answer.
“Trith? Hedorick? Leonti?”
Still nothing. And he knew that for sure Neith or Jakib wouldn’t answer the call. They were suffering from a slight case of death. That sort of thing prevented most people from doing much of anything.
He risked a peek out from underneath the transport to catch a glimpse at what he was up against.
It shocked him to see a very scantily clad woman puffing away calmly on a pipe, a quiver on her back and a short bow grasped in her flawlessly smooth hands. Her long hair billowed in the breeze and smoke poured from her mouth, like some sort of grim goddess of justice.
He ducked back beneath as another projectile thokked into the thick wood above his cranium.
“Hey, lady!”
She spat, drawing the pipe out for a bit. “Name’s Kara, turd.”
“Um… Right. Kara… Can we make a deal? I mean, all I want is this man. This outlaw. I’m sure we could arrange something…”
“No can do. What are you? Some kind of lawman?” She asked, notching another arrow.
“You could say that. I certainly do serve a sort of higher power…” Sanzo explained, trying his best to charm the angry prostitute.
“Well, you see, it ain’t changin’ a thing. Larson may be full of crap, but I love him. Can’t let him go anywhere,” She countered, adding, “Especially someone that wants nothin’ more than to see him hang offa the end of a long rope.”
He popped back around for a second.
“I have more than enough money…” He started, before being cut off by a whizzing shot that nearly trimmed off his moustache.
“Alright, then… Have it your way, lady,” The dark masked man whispered more to himself than anyone as he removed the sack from his belt and released the scarab.
Blinking, the insect shook itself to life and stared up at its master, big eyes reflecting him a thousand times in their kaleidoscope gaze and horn like antenna poised for instruction.
Using his link to the creature, Sanzo delivered his sinister orders and the bug burrowed deep into the dirt and scrambled toward its target. He flashed a crooked smile with yellowed teeth, until a flashing dagger blade dug deep into his exposed throat.
The assassin gulped and held his breath, not wishing to tempt fate or his assailant.
Larson, still half covered in rope and dripping blood from his busted forehead, called out to the lady on the steps, “Kara, see that lump in the ground?”
“What lump?”
“The one that’s movin’ right at you,” The aching half elf responded.
Noticing the foreboding skittering mound that wiggled slowly in her direction, the prostitute took aim.
“That one, babe?” She asked, exhaling smoke from the pipe.
“Yep. That’s the one. Shoot it for me, hun.”
“Anything for you, love,” His paramour replied, drawing the string and loosing an arrow.
The head pierced the writhing insect, which squealed like a stuck pig and exploded with a flamboyant flash of green flame and a small magical discharge that shot through the air like electricity and made the hair on their arms stand on end.
Using the distraction, the killer flipped Larson’s wrist and seized the weapon.
He now held it perilously close to the bounty killer’s throat.
It was the red cloaked swashbuckler’s turn to gulp, which he did.
“My masters would much rather have you alive, tribesman, but they’d be just as content with the Chosen dead,” The hooded menace threatened, spraying spittle.
Kara notched another arrow and the murderer spun around, holding her beloved in front of him as a shield.
“Yer good with the bow, wench. But I’d bet my bottom copper that you don’t possess the skill to take me without killin’ lover boy here too,” The smirking Sanzo commented as he leered from behind the wagon.
“Now, what I’m gonna do, is I’m goin’ to get up. Then, I’m walking to that horse, over yonder,” He explained with a jerk of his shadowed head.
“And then I guess you’ll be walking right out of here?” A new voice asked from his peripheral vision.
Grunting, the killer turned his head to view this challenger.
Larson breathed a sigh of relief to see his childhood friends, Roka and Ita, who had become known only as the Outcast after their rather bloody split from the tribe.
What perturbed him, however, was that Veru, Ita’s prized falcon that never left his side, was not present. Could the bird have died in the many years that had elapsed? He wondered.
He query was answered momentarily as the screaming bird swooped from the dark sky and dove into the dark man’s face, tearing with sharp talons and ripping with vicious beak.
Shouting, the man dropped his blade and tumbled to the ground under the vicious assault.
He was almost instantly punctured with an arrow from Kara and a throwing knife hurtled from Roka’s side.
The Outcast whistled and the bird of prey returned to his gloved hand. It nodded and cooed in satisfaction as it’s master stroked its shining head and handed it a bit of field mouse in reward.
Picking up his dropped blade, Larson trudged through the filth to the scoundrel, who lay on his back, shaking and fading fast. He muttered demonic prayers to the heathen king Aryeh Vavrin with his last breath in hope of reward in his lives to come.
“Can I have your attention please?” The rogue asked politely as he picked sludge from beneath his nails with the knife.
The heretic simply continued singing his praises in a perverted, twisted Archaic Elvish, a language used almost only by high priests of the religion of Larson’s mother.
Without even looking over his shoulder, the fighter called to Kara, “Honey, can you fetch me my belt?”
Roka reached it first and tossed it to the hunter, who caught it with outstretched hand.
“Ok… never once thought about callin’ you that, old friend, but whatever works…” He laughed as he dug deep in one of the many pouches.
Peering over his shoulder, Kara asked as she lit another pipe, “What are you doing?”
“Well… here we have two healing potions in two vials. One is green,” He extrapolated, raising the tube and shaking it a bit. “The one you’d want. It’s your run of the mill, ordained by the gods, with all the right blessing from the right clerics elixir. Relieves all the pain and ailments of almost any wound. Makes you a hundred percent again, almost instantly.”
Curiosity getting the better of her, the female had to ask, “And the other?”
“Well… I guess you could say it works, but…” He responded, trailing off into deep silence.
“But what?” The inquisitive lady asked.
Stepping forward, Roka said pretty much all that needed to be said.
“It hurts. A lot.”
The crimson cloaked killer cut in, adding, “It sure does, but we have to break him out of this trance he’s put himself in first.”
“How-” Kara begins to ask, but is promptly interrupted by the screams of the man as cold steel is driven deep into his internal organs and twisted slowly.
“Well, that certainly woke him up,” The Outcast observed as he spat a stream of kawa root juice from his packed lip.
“Now I just have to wonder which one you want to use on him…”
Looking down into his calloused hands, Larson thought about which to pour on the mortal wounds of this foe.
With green, he could perhaps gain the man’s trust and his knowledge of his foes, or it could simply be a case of taking a serpent into their midst.
Red would more than likely get what he wanted, but there was also the highly probable chance that it could drive him raving mad with the pain before he could make with the information.
Which elixir to administer ?
The man was slowly bleeding out and he didn’t have long to make a decision, so he had to make up his mind fast. Crouched down in a rapidly expanding puddle of burgundy blood, the adventurer pondered his situation.
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Eadgar's Saga Chapter 2 POLL
Abattoir Chapter 2!
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Jack_D.Mented
Respected Citizen
Joined: 22 Jan 2006
Topics: 9
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Location: Hiding out in the woods of Washington
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| Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2006 5:45 pm Post subject: |
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So... folks. We now have Chapter Six of Larson's little adventures.
I'll be gone for a while and this may be the last bit that I get to do for a couple of weeks, but have no fear as I intend to return first chance I get.
Hope you all enjoy it and vote for it for SGOTM!
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Eadgar's Saga Chapter 2 POLL
Abattoir Chapter 2!
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