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Shady Stoat
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 Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2006 10:30 pm Post subject: |
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These people are fanatics. You're not going to win them over with nicey-nicey tricks.
Given the slim chances of you getting any information at all out of him, you might as well use the less valuable healing potion on him and save the good one for possible use later.
Risk the madness, watch him writhe 
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The Meaning Of Fear
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| Posted: Thu Jun 15, 2006 1:27 am Post subject: |
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I F5 Stoat, although i didn't realise she was so twisted.
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| Posted: Thu Jun 15, 2006 5:25 am Post subject: |
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Oh Stoat is twisted alright. As twisty as they come in fact.
Nice chapter JD! I f5 the twisty one. No point going all nice on us now is there?
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The Meaning Of Fear
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| Posted: Fri Jun 16, 2006 4:08 am Post subject: |
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Yep. PAIN! WE WANT IT AND WE WANT IT NOW! 
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| Posted: Sat Jun 17, 2006 9:57 pm Post subject: |
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| Jack_D.Mented wrote: | | [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. |
insisting=insisted
Lmao! Nice backdoor joke! hahaha
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| Posted: Sat Jun 17, 2006 10:20 pm Post subject: |
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| I say that he uses the green elixer... Larson could use the information he gains... The Seven Sons seems like it could be a big threat to him, and why do they want him alive? There has to be something behind the leader of the Seven Sons wanting alive...
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Starwalker
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| Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2006 8:25 am Post subject: |
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| Give him the green, if scoundrel does not want to play, he can always give him back to the falcon or his lady friend to play with.
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Shogun
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| Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2006 3:07 pm Post subject: |
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Not sure what F5 means but it most likely is translated as, "I agree." No?
I like this story, violent, gory and sometimes just plain ruthless. Your words have a certain...flow. Much like the rich bear furry thing's Narg the Nasty. Hey Chinaren, you remember me?
I look forward to the next chapter.
Make him scream and writhe(twist if you must).
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Pay attention to your twisted little indiscretions
I've got no right to way, I'm just caught up all the battles
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Ravenwing
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| Posted: Tue Jun 27, 2006 7:37 am Post subject: |
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F5 Starwalker. His idea has some merit to it. And it still has the opportunity to add some pain to the victim.
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Jack_D.Mented
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| Posted: Wed Jun 28, 2006 6:32 pm Post subject: |
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Glad you like it, Shogun. I aim to please.
Poll should be up in a bit, folks. Vote away!!!
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Jack_D.Mented
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| Posted: Tue Jul 11, 2006 5:26 pm Post subject: |
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Some more votes would be awesome.
I'd like to try to do somethin before I start workin twelve hours a day, six or seven days a week.
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| Posted: Sun Aug 06, 2006 9:52 pm Post subject: |
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| ok, so i read the chapter, nice work jack.. but dont really have the time to read the discussion.. so I voted pain.. cause thats just more fun.
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Jack_D.Mented
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| Posted: Fri Aug 25, 2006 5:59 am Post subject: |
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The next chapter should be coming soon. I've been real busy with work, but I'll get it done soon.
If you look on the first page, you'll see where I got bored and did a little drawing of Larson. Hope yall like.
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Fri Aug 25, 2006 4:48 pm Post subject: |
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Question chin...what are you? Are you a bear, are you a monkey, are you a rich buisnessman who funded experiments gone horribly wrong...or do you live in China and eat ramen? lol, kidding.
To late to vote I think, but I'm a naturally anti-pacifist person so I would have voted to torture him and cut his fingers off, but whatever 
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| Posted: Fri Aug 25, 2006 6:18 pm Post subject: |
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| Fenris wrote: | Question chin...what are you? Are you a bear, are you a monkey, are you a rich buisnessman who funded experiments gone horribly wrong...or do you live in China and eat ramen? lol, kidding.
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Possibly all and none of the above.  'ren' means person in Chinese. And yes, I live in China. Hence the name.
Sorry Jack, 
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| Posted: Sun Sep 24, 2006 12:29 am Post subject: |
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Chapter 7
Larson pursed his chapped lips and, after a moment of quick consideration, made up his mind with only a minimal amount of difficulty.
He quoted his aged teacher on the issue as he uncorked the tube, whispering, “Go red and go red often, my son.”
Either it was the peculiar flickering of the street lights, or, Ita the Outcast had in fact registered this nearly silent utterance and recognized it as a direct echoing of Traust, their instructor, who during his time, had been known simply by the name of “The Good Man.”
The vial titled in his gloved hands, a blood red drop hovering upon the edge for one breathless second, and then, it tumbled from the precipice in what seemed to be slow motion. The crimson morsel landed upon the weeping wound with an audible hiss, impregnating the air with the reek of burning flesh as it slowly cauterized the wound and heinous magics began to stitch vital organs back together like a child’s puzzle, several times making a mistake and wrenching them apart to reevaluate the previous placement.
Shutters all down the street could be heard slamming shut as his tortured screams echoed from the stone walls. Nobody wanted to be a witness to this.
Clutching his burning gut, Sanzo rolled about like a carriage struck sewer rat, tears streaming down his unshaven face, leaving clear white streaks in his greasepaint covered visage.
Bending down, Roka stared deep into the wounded man’s eyes and laughed.
“Now that’s what I like to see from a devil worshipper.”
Although aching in pain, the assassin had enough presence of mind to spit a blood tinged phlegm at his foe.
It fell significantly short, however, and the tribesman laughed at the pathetic infidel.
Kara, who had seen her share of violence, nevertheless covered her eyes.
Larson, coughing a bit and clearing his throat, seized the villain by the pressure point in his elbow and rolled him over.
“I have questions, my friend. Many questions.”
Hacking and wheezing, the heretic responded, still defiant, “I… I… I will…”
The half elf simply smiled and twisted the cork a bit, letting the familiar odor of the burning chemical waft to his victim’s nostrils.
He could almost see the defeat in the man’s eyes as his will broke and he snapped, finally muttering, “I will tell you anything to make it stop.”
Roka, chortling a small bit, took hold of the assassin beneath the arms, and with the assistance of the Outcast, they lifted the criminal from the soaked street.
“A good idea. We may want a little privacy for this…” Larson agreed with a nod.
It was then that the unforeseen occurred.
The prisoner, completely helpless, groaning and voicing his apparent pain, suddenly went silent, his jaw slackening and his complexion fading to a sheet white much like a ghost. His eyes rolled far back in his head and he began to shake and spasm violently.
Almost instinctively, the two tribesmen dropped the convulsing murderer and stepped back, unsure of what was happening.
Sanzo began to teeter over, his legs useless and gelatin like as his knees buckled and the momentum of his movement carried him forward to the filthy sludge that constituted a street.
Roka nearly rushed forward to catch him, not willing to let such a valuable intelligence asset go to waste, but was stopped midstep by the steady hand of Larson, which grasped his shoulder firmly.
Before he had a chance to question such judgment, the wisdom of this action was exposed as the tumbling fanatic exploded in a towering pillar of green flame that illuminated the street like a festival rocket and died the skies themselves a sickly lime.
Turning away from the pyrotechnic wonder of godly might, the heroes had no choice but to shield their eyes or suffer instantaneous blindness, as those unfortunate enough to open their shutters at the wrong instant discovered.
After only but a few seconds, the light vanished, first dimming, and then finally, leaving no trace of its accursed existence or that of its victim other than the greasy smear upon the ground and the thin, ghostlike wisps of smoke.
The Outcast, running his gloved hand through his long, beaded hair asked in open surprise, “And what manner of deviltry is this?”
Larson, finally feeling secure enough to release his iron grip from Roka’s shoulder, had no answer, nor did the clansman that stood bewildered before him.
A female voice, the owner of which they’d almost completely forgotten, suddenly jolted the stone men back to life.
“It is the consequence of breaking a vow, a holy, or in this case, unholy vow. I’ve heard of it, but never truly beheld it for myself,” Kara explained.
“Oh. Hmm… I think I need a drink,” Larson replied.
“Me too,” Roka followed.
Veru, burying his beak deep in Ita’s massive shoulder chirped as he attempted to escape the unpleasant odors that clung to the area like a determined parasite.
The burn of the bourbon stung just enough to bring Larson’s razor sharp mind back to bearing, retrieving his mind from the dark depths of near panic and awe that had previously consumed him. He cracked his aching neck with an audible snap and looked deep into the faces of his companions as they awaited his next move.
Taking in a deep breath, the half elf , after weighing his options carefully, spoke.
“Right now, it seems as if that our wisest option would be to seek out this threat,” He proclaimed.
Roka nodded, agreeing, “Cut off this weed at its root.”
“Exactly.”
Kara, tossing her hair back with a huff, asked, “And how are we to know where it’s coming from? Do you think that perhaps the gods will just tell us directly? Send us a sign?”
Smiling, Larson replied, “Yep. Sure they will.”
Scrunching her beautiful features in a childish manner, she countered, “What?”
Hardly before she could spit the word completely out, the bounty killer produced a throwing dagger from within the folds of his cloak, and without so much as an aim or a look, let the blade fly toward a map mounted upon the wall.
It sank deep into the canvas and the oak behind with an audible twang, the hilt quivering a bit with the impact.
The rogue rose from his seat and moved across the room, drawing closer upon the atlas until he could clearly see that the knife had pierced the center of a burgeoning frontier town bordering the barbaric lands of the frozen north.
Placing a gloved finger upon the city, he proclaimed, “And the gods have made it clear unto me that we shall travel to Belvarr.”
He seized the weapon from the wall and restored it to its home within his clothing. Turning toward his friends, who all had been glancing over his shoulder in curiosity, the adventurer, gestured wide with his arms and made with a great smile.
“To your beds, friends. Rest well, for we leave at dawn!”
Before objections could be made, he’d bounded swiftly back up the stairs to his room and bolted shut the thick door. It wasn’t long before the telltale creaking of a lone mattress could be heard downstairs.
Roka and Ita, simply shaking their heads, made their way to the stables to make their beds upon bales of hay, as the trappings of Imperial “civilization” made them most uncomfortable.
Unnoticed, Kara poured herself another strong drink, and sobbed softly, trying her best to hold back the heartbroken tears that she knew would eventually come.
………………………..
“How does one eliminate a scoundrel?” Had been the question.
The response from the Master had been simply, “Use another scoundrel.”
The Servant, the wayward monk drew close his simply brown robes as he pushed through the swinging doors and penetrated a world that which he was wholly unused to…
A smoky tavern sprawled out before him, the reek of vomit, dark ale, hard liquors, and even a tinge of blood assaulted his incense pampered sinuses.
After some questions directed at a barkeep that seemed to be only half listening, he was finally provided with answers.
Yes, the one he sought had been here, and yes, he had been looking for work. But no, he wasn’t here now. His luck went sour at the dice room in the back and, rather than paying his outstanding debt, he’d killed his three opponents… with his bare hands.
The place to find him was the local jail.
Konrad awoke, his head throbbing, both from the strong spirits and the chair that had been broken over his skull in the process of taking him down.
To his surprise, just outside his bars, sat a monk, a holy man.
The pilgrim smiled beneath his hood and nodded in greeting.
The albino barbarian flicked back his braided white mane and grunted, “Who’re you?”
Instead of replying to the question asked, the little man posed yet another one in return.
Typical preacher, The berserker thought.
“You know that you’ll hang? They will kill you.”
Shrugging, the Northman made nonchalantly responded in his deep guttural accent, “They aren’t the first to try, they’ll surely not be the last.”
“You’re not sure of that, though.”
Damn their insightfulness, He cursed inwardly.
Turning on his heel, he demanded, “How about you cut to it, little man? I haven’t much time left and I’d just as assume not waste it on you.”
Konrad smiled as the holy man stammered for a second, his arrogance disrupted and the facade blown.
His composure was quickly gathered, however, and he, from seemingly nowhere, produced a key.
“I offer you your freedom, your weapons, and riches beyond imagining if you will but simply grant me one boon,” The robed one stated.
The platinum blonde tilted his head to the side, his interest piqued and asked, “And that would be?”
“Kill a man for me.”
“Well, stranger, I have slain but many men in my life. I’m sorry to say that you must be quite a bit more specific than that,” The rugged warrior fired back.
“His name is Larson…”
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Jack_D.Mented
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| Posted: Sun Sep 24, 2006 12:31 am Post subject: |
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Muhahaha!
I know, I know. It took me a while, but works been hectic...
Nevertheless... here's your new chapter to love and cherish and a new DP to mull over.
What does Konrad do?
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| Posted: Mon Oct 09, 2006 11:12 am Post subject: |
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Ok... No responses thus far...
Come on people! Some poll options would be great!!!
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| Posted: Mon Oct 09, 2006 11:40 am Post subject: |
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Hey Jack, just read this whole thing in preparation for drawing Larson  pretty cool, interesting characters... However this last DP dosn't look like there are many options. Konrad is already a killer, so it's no moral dilemma. If Larson were a friend of his or something it might be a hard choice. But as it is, he's obviously gonna take the deal. What's the alternative? Hope he can somehow escape hanging? pretend to take the deal then kill the holy man and run off, missing his chance at promissed riches? These don't seem very likely from what little I know of this character. Perhaps he should repent for his sins and go quietly to the gallows to die?
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| Posted: Mon Oct 09, 2006 3:10 pm Post subject: |
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Yes, sorry, missed this chapter. Seem to be doing that a lot lately.
Anyway, I f5 Argo. I don't really see any choice. Of course, (unless the monk puts one of those vows on him) he could always say yes and then run off.
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The Meaning Of Fear
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| Posted: Wed Oct 18, 2006 10:58 pm Post subject: |
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Lordy has raised one hell of a good point. Pardon the pun, hehe.
"Also, Who the hell are you?" might be a good one. Konrad might also be suspicious, for why would a holy man want someone killed? So something along the lines of why do you want him killed, or something that could reveal that would work well.
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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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Jack_D.Mented
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| Posted: Sun Oct 29, 2006 8:16 pm Post subject: |
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Ok... so what options do we want?
Ask questions?
Refuse?
Accept?
Lie?
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The Meaning Of Fear
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| Posted: Wed Nov 15, 2006 10:10 pm Post subject: |
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CAn we have suicide as well?
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| Posted: Mon Nov 20, 2006 10:56 pm Post subject: |
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| lol, I say we ask questions first...either that or kill the holy man.
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| Posted: Fri Dec 01, 2006 2:05 am Post subject: |
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The poll that has been forever coming is now here, friends.
So take advantage of it whilst you can and vote away!
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| Posted: Sun Dec 03, 2006 6:01 am Post subject: |
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Question him, then stab him. Never stab a man offering you something without listening!
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The Meaning Of Fear
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| Posted: Mon Dec 18, 2006 5:24 am Post subject: |
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Voted for questioning the holy man.
After all, if i don't trust religion, why should Konrad?
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| Posted: Wed Jan 24, 2007 11:23 pm Post subject: |
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| Finally voted, lol.
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Jack_D.Mented
Respected Citizen
Joined: 22 Jan 2006
Topics: 9
Posts: 958
Location: Hiding out in the woods of Washington
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Legends
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Strata-gems
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| Posted: Tue May 22, 2007 6:43 pm Post subject: |
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Well, I hate to say this guys, but Larson's gonna wait for a while. At least until Death is done.
Maybe sooner, but I'm just not feelin it right now.
Hopefully, I can pick it up right where I left off when I geel the urge again.
Thanks for your support and I hope to be back on this story soon.
_________________
Eadgar's Saga Chapter 2 POLL
Abattoir Chapter 2!
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