C
cherub
Guest
Running through the snow trying to escape the terror that comes, our poor beggar hops through the dense brush that is around his humble home.
Slamming the door as he enters and swinging an large wooden post across the door to lock him self in, the lonly soul blockades him self in his house to wait his future.
The wind howls though the bowels of the ramshackeled shanty as rain water drips from each board in the roof.
*click* *click* *click* starting a fire in the hearth with two badly worned flint rocks, our beggar waits. and listens to the noises of the night while wondering his fate.
it has been an good life, he says, as he :mutters: to him self as the sickness sweeps from home to home , the bodys fallen where they have been found. what may you ask *what is happening*? Beggars are dying from an unknown sickness. an unknown being! the only known name for this being is called the makers of uo.
uo as the meer foke know are the wizzards that make their great magic, that weild their great weapons, that claim the wildest beasts for them self. it is the all mighty makers of the lands which weild the pen and paper , and they wish to kill us poor beggars. to wipe us from the lands till we no longer exist.....
*yelling through the window* NOOOOOO! FOUL BEAST. YOU SHALL NOT TAKE ME WITH OUT A FIGHT!
*pushing large table infront of door.*
* looks around and picks up an rusty dagger from the dirt covered floor*
You shall not take me with out a fight! *DO YOU HEAR ME!!*
*chanting is heard lightly coming from the forest *
OOOH noo! they are coming for me! coming for this poor beggar.!.
*yells out window* TASTE MY STEEL! A FIGHT YOU WANT , A FIGHT YOU SHALL GET!..
MAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! their not going to get me , try as they might , i will beg anouther day, they called me mad hhhahahahahaha the door is red and the sun sets in the north i told you to kill the king while i had the chance but nooooo you wanted the apple core on the floor now they come for me spare a coin kind sir a coin for a hungry soul wwwhahahahahaha the voices can you hear them dear lady might you have a peice of cloth to spare *hides under table shaking and muttering*, its only a dream, its only a dream , its only a dream.
cherub, gm beggar
Slamming the door as he enters and swinging an large wooden post across the door to lock him self in, the lonly soul blockades him self in his house to wait his future.
The wind howls though the bowels of the ramshackeled shanty as rain water drips from each board in the roof.
*click* *click* *click* starting a fire in the hearth with two badly worned flint rocks, our beggar waits. and listens to the noises of the night while wondering his fate.
it has been an good life, he says, as he :mutters: to him self as the sickness sweeps from home to home , the bodys fallen where they have been found. what may you ask *what is happening*? Beggars are dying from an unknown sickness. an unknown being! the only known name for this being is called the makers of uo.
uo as the meer foke know are the wizzards that make their great magic, that weild their great weapons, that claim the wildest beasts for them self. it is the all mighty makers of the lands which weild the pen and paper , and they wish to kill us poor beggars. to wipe us from the lands till we no longer exist.....
*yelling through the window* NOOOOOO! FOUL BEAST. YOU SHALL NOT TAKE ME WITH OUT A FIGHT!
*pushing large table infront of door.*
* looks around and picks up an rusty dagger from the dirt covered floor*
You shall not take me with out a fight! *DO YOU HEAR ME!!*
*chanting is heard lightly coming from the forest *
OOOH noo! they are coming for me! coming for this poor beggar.!.
*yells out window* TASTE MY STEEL! A FIGHT YOU WANT , A FIGHT YOU SHALL GET!..
MAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! their not going to get me , try as they might , i will beg anouther day, they called me mad hhhahahahahaha the door is red and the sun sets in the north i told you to kill the king while i had the chance but nooooo you wanted the apple core on the floor now they come for me spare a coin kind sir a coin for a hungry soul wwwhahahahahaha the voices can you hear them dear lady might you have a peice of cloth to spare *hides under table shaking and muttering*, its only a dream, its only a dream , its only a dream.
cherub, gm beggar