K
Kimi_Mori
Guest
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<h1><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">Yew Merry Center for All!</span></h1>
Greetings, Kimi Mori here coming to you once more from the lands we know as Sosaria, today I bring you the tales that were told to us at the <a target="_blank" href=http://www.bobplex.org/YMCA/html/index.php>Yew Merry Center for All last night, while I was there. They were still going strong when I left two hours later. For those that may not know it, the YMCA is one of the longest running player events on Sonoma. And this year the YMCA will be celebrating its 8th year since it birth here on Sonoma. I think that really grand. Can you give me a <span style="font-weight: bold;">shout out</span> for the YMCA and our ever so graceful caretaker Dor.
Tonights guests were a mixture of people from all over, besides Dor and myself, we had Lord Malice [aka Spyderbite] from Sosaria Live, Satin-n-Lace, Rapier, Boris, Machine Gun Mimi [E^E] along with several other members of [E^E], Lord Nexus and several other people that came and left during this two hours period. I apologize if I miss anyone name from last night.
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Our first story teller was Maddwg;
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><big>Episode Eighteen: Conquering Hero</big>
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</div> I used my crayons to write a story. DragonSnack seemed in one of his moods. Cough was quiet in my backpack, but I think I heard him snicker when I wrote about my misadventures. All finished. I said. Neither horse replied. I flashed a message to Queen Mum. As I am a man of action I proceeded before her reply. Since, the book was to be revealed at the PAC House, I journeyed there. I dismounted and asked DS to follow. As I entered the house DragonSnack disappeared with a twinkle. It seemed odd behavior for a following pet. Not so odd for DS. I quickly realized that he had stepped on a teleporter to the roof. Uh oh. Rooftops and DragonSnacks are not a good mix! I stepped on the teleporter and appeared on the roof. DragonSnack had crossed the roof and gazed, motionless away from me. I implored the horse to not jump! Thankfully, he followed me back down.
By then, Queen Mum was requesting My presence in Skara Brae. So, I journeyed there. I was quite lost as I refuse to ask Directions. Queen Mum being the wise Queen, guided me anyway. Eventually we met up and she gave me a tour of some things I around interesting buildings there. I only got lost one more time. Not bad for me. Queen Mum had to leave as the duties of queening stuff keeps her busy. I realize what a poor citizen I have been! With all the cool stuff I get to do in Sosaria, I need to give back!
I remembered from my younger days how pesky those lichs were that hung out south of Yew. DragonSnack and I journeyed to crossroads for Skara Brae and Britain. I headed up the road toward Yew. Along the way, we were accosted by brigands. Twas not it my duty to make this road safe? I calmly asked these misguided fellows to seek gainful employment and they departed. That is if calmly asked meant attacked and departed as in dead.
As we journeyed further up the road we continued our duty by assisting a troll, an ogre and a harpy to depart. Yes, we killed them too. We were quite proud that we had removed these threats to the citizens. No. No. Thanks are not necessary. What was that smell? A vile odor did overwhelm me. Then there was that tingling sensation, reminiscent of vile lich magic, it was. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Egads!</span> One of those vile undead was trying to cause bodily harm to us! Fear not good citizens. I did not leave him to hinder others. I withdrew my katana of undead ganking and attacked said lich. He used he powerful magics on me but was no match for my power. After all, are I not a hero? Confident in my superior ability I advanced on another vile lich. He attacked me with his wicked magic and I beat on him with my katana.
I will not describe the details of these furious battles as a gentleman does not. Rest easy dear friends, I returned that lich to his grave. Apparently, word had spread among the lich community that the Glorious Maddwg, knight and all around do-gooder, was here. As I was fighting a lich another ran over. One lich is no big deal but I was struggling with two. I was in a fight to the death with those two hell spawn and failed to notice the two other lichs that sneaked up through the trees.
As any woman can attest, most men are not very good at multitasking. I am a man. I quickly considered my options, And <span style="font-weight: bold;">RAN</span>! I was out of sight from those lichs when one of their evil spells hit me. Everything went gray as I slid from the saddle, right beside a headless creature. DragonSnack guarded my fallen form and slew the headless thing. Alas, he was no match for a passing lich.
My spirit drifted northward until it crossed paths with a healer. He roused me and I recovered my senses enough to ask Cough for help. In spirit form I had witnessed DragonSnack slay the headless one. I had not witnessed the lich attack. I was devastated when I arrived to find a lich hovering over DragonSnacks body. I slew that vile being with a few whacks of my katana! That did not quell the storm of rage racing through my blood!
I raced into a crowd, three is a crowd, of lichs with reckless abandon. Many times I came close to being slain just to have a bandage repair the damage in the nick of time. With Lady Luck by my side, and a stack of bandages, I prevailed. My anger was still not satiated. I roamed about slaying many lichs until I grew weary. My duty fulfilled I journeyed to Haven. The good and devout Lady Jocelyn was aghast at the demise of DragonSnack and used her power to restore him.
I bumped into Lord Nexus and we chatted about things that veterans chat about. Apparently, Lady Alana Starbreeze found most of our conversation less than appealing. Shopping seemed to be on her agenda. So with a salute to the soldier, Nexus, I moved on. It doth make an old veteran proud to see the next generation pick up the torch. We have all witnessed the gathering of warriors in Luna. Glory does abound with the tales of the brave bank sitters.
Even Haven has many that do keep that place safe from miscreants. I find it peculiar that other cities do not garner these throngs. Even the once hustling and bustling Britain is near ghost like these days. I decided that it falls on the shoulders of us do-gooder, care-bear, knightly types to rectify this situation. DragonSnack agreed that bank-sitting was probably something we could do.
He is a fine, brave steed! We journeyed to the city of Minoc. We walked from the moongate to that city and passed none of those infamous reds along the way. Perhaps they would be waiting for us inside the city? We searched the city high and low but found none of those reds. Nor any blues for that matter. Maddwg hath conquered Minoc! Now that Minoc was secure, I decided that we must protect our bank. Just like they do in Luna. We stood outside and waited for passing citizens to pay homage to the new ruler. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. We waited at least an infernal 10 minutes! I spied the town crier, Violetta. That sexy succubus. I inquired as to the news of my conquest. Aghast that she had no news, I asked for any juicy gossip. She had no gossip either! I fired her.
Now, making the world safe for fellow citizens and conquering small cities does cause one to become dry. I promoted DragonSnack to Captain of the BankSitters. I went in search of a decent ale. I ventured up to the Barnacle and ordered a draft. I made small talk with Christina the waiter and used my best manly lines on her. Certainly she has no idea whom I am. Shot down in flames, I returned to the bank where DragonSnack was exhausted from that dangerous bank sitting. Satisified in a job well done and oblivious of wrong doings at the bank, we called it a day.
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Our next adventurer to speak of greatness was Rumil of Lorain;
My tale is called;
<div style="text-align: center;"><big><span style="font-weight: bold;">Last Rites of a Warrior</span></big>
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The battle was over, They had won or so it seemed to those did not know any better. The army from Despise had been defeated to the last monster. The last survivor of the human army stood with his back to a large oak tree, his chipped and bloodied sword pointing downward, as his shoulders slumped from exhaustion.
Marak was his given name, in his mid fifties but still strong and powerfully built Marak's black hair was turning gray giving him the look of a grizzled bear his bright green eyes were tired and dull. They may have defeated the monster army and saved the village, but at what cost. How many men had died? Was it worth it? Would the widows and children wonder at night about their husbands and fathers? With a heavy sigh, feeling like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, Marak gazed about him. The dead lay about him, the men, the boys, the monsters piled beyond measure, pools of blood not yet congealed gleamed in the late evening sun.
All because of him or so he believed, It was he who had found the tracks of the army. His words that had fired the hearts of the men and boys who eagerly took up arms to defend their village. Who was he to have spoken what right did he have to demand that they fight and save their few belongings. Once more Marak wondered if he had done right or wrong. It was time for him to go for he had to return to the village they must be informed about the outcome. Marak said a quick prayer to protect their souls and send them to Valhalla.
Picking his way through the dead and mangled bodies he moved slowly, his heart was heavy with the death of so many, tears threatened to fall unbidden. Past most of the heavy fighting he turned towards a cleft in the cliffs, an opening just wide enough for an oxen cart to pass through, the only way into the valley from this direction. Moving closer he began to notice a large number of monster bodies, what had happenedhere he wondered. Had something gone on he hadn't known about who had killed all these fierce monster's. Who ever had done it had fought a mighty battle, the bodies were piled high Marak spied a piece of metal shining in the dirt and went to investigate. It was a the broken blade of a saber a few feet further was a broken haft of a spear. It was then he heard the moan low filled with pain, it came from somewhere deep within the pile of bodies. Marak moved a few bodies and moved forward and saw an astonishing sight.
Beside a pile of bodies lay a youth, about sixteen or so he was pale and his tunic was covered with blood from the chest down. In his hand was a foot and a half wooden shaft with a bloody spear point at the end of it. This was the other end of the spear he had found, the boy must have been the one to kill all these monsters.
To a vetran like Marak the story was simple the boy had discovered that a band of monsters were trying to get through the pass and he had went to defend it. Somewhere along the way his saber had broke and he was run through his chest with a spear.The boy must have broken off part of the spear and used it as a weapon.
Quickly Marak fell to his knees beside the boy, brushing back long sandy colored hair from the boys face. Blue eyes opened and with trouble the boy spoke. ''The battle?'' Don't talk lad it will just make it worse, ''the battle is over we won I suppose you could call it that with all but two being dead but enough talk'' have some water. '' Marak took his waterbag off his shoulder and pulled out the stopper tilting the boys head slightly and putting the waterbag to his mouth. After a couple of swallows the boy lay back.
It was plain with the look on the boys face he was in great pain. ''Hold on I will get my horse and'' '' No please don't leave me, I dont want to die alone. I don't want to die at all. I'm only a boy I've just begun to live and... ''It's bad isn't it?''
At first Marak thought about lying to the boy, trying to comfort him in his last moments. He glanced over the boys wounds, besides the hole in his chest there was a long gash from the bottom of his right ribcage to his left hip. He didn't have to look to see it was the one killing him. Since the boy had fought so bravely Marak felt he deserved the truth. ''Not much longer lad''.
Thank you sir, I dont mind dying so much as long as someone is here with me to the end. ''You fought bravely lad, your father would be proud'' Marak said his voice threatening to break. It wasn't much comfort he knew but it was all he could think to say. 'Marak had never been good with words especially ones of comfort. He felt the boy should have someone say something good before he died.
'' I just wished I could have died alongside my father. we used to joke that one day we'd die together on the battlefield, You know I saw him fall with the first charge''. Thats when I noticed the enemy heading this way I cried out, I tried to get others to come but no one heard me and I knew I had to stop.... A sudden fit of coughing shook the boys slender frame, he trembled as blood gushed from between his lips. One of his hands which had been holding Marak's squeezed harder as the pain washed over him.
Marak swallowed hard to fight back the tears that threatened to fall, the last thing the boy needed to see was a grown man crying. It was a struggle for Marak though, he had always been partial to kids. Feeling pain when they were hurt or crying. Though the boy no doubt thought of himself as a man he still seemed a boy to Marak. So young and innocent such a waste that a boy should die in a pool of his own blood. ''It hurts so bad, like a fire raging inside me''. Is it always this bad? It's never that way in the stories the people are cut or stabbed and they die, they die feeling little pain but I'm feeling lots of pain.
''I know lad, I'm sorry if there was anything I could do to help you I would''. ''Then finish it''. The boy said with sudden determination. ''What? I can't do that.''
''You lied to me didn't you''. It was a simple statement, said without harshness or remorse to it, yet it hit Marak a blow he had never felt before. He simply nodded as he struggled to keep the tears from coming. He knew what the boy wanted but could he do it. ''Not exactly, I cannot say when you'll die anymore than the next fellow. I have seen men with wounds less than your's die within seconds others last for days.
Marak stopped then from the look in the boys eyes he knew. ''Please do it, I don't want to die but I also don't want to suffer like this. '' But I don't know if I can''. Marak shook as he spoke. The boys blue eyes were wide with pleading, ''It's one thing to kill a man in the heat of battle, but to end so short a life, I'm not sure if I'm that strong''. Neither spoke for awhile after that, the boy had made his plead and the pain in his eyes spoke volumes. He could suffer for hours yet all because of weakness. Slowly Marak reached for his knife it was sharp and strong. One quick thrust into the heart and the boy would be no more. He had slain enough men to know how to kill and even how to make it painless. With his right hand trembling he drew the knife, it slid from the sheath with a whisper of steel. That sounded like a hiss of death to Marak, how could he do it he wondered. This was no hardfaced coldhearted killer, It was just a freshed faced, bright eyed boy, He should be swimming in the lake, or walking along a forest path with his girlfriend not dying out here in a pool of blood on some lonely battlefield.
Blood poured from the boys mouth as and his body shook again as the pain gripped him. With tears threatening to come any moment, Marak laid the knife against the boys chest, he tilted it slightly so it would go right in quickly. ''Thank you sir, my name is Sarn tell my mother and the others how I died please. Tell them not to cry, I will be with my father resting and I will be waiting for them in the halls of Valhalla. I know they will be sad but make them understand why I did it. Tell my sister and brother I'll miss playing with them or watching them grow up. Remind them that while resting we will be able to see all that goes on and I will be watching from time to time.
Sarn put one hand around Maraks, and shoved the knife into his heart, he twitched for a moment and then lay still finally free from the pain. No longer able to keep the tears from flowing Marak wept openly his whole body shook as the tears ran down his cheeks and onto Sarns chest. Through his fifty odd years of life he'd known much pain, nothing like this though had ever affected him as much as this young warrior laying in a pool of blood.
With tears blinding him he slid the knife into it's sheath. Gently picking Sarn up he turned towards the village. It was dark when Marak reached Sarn's home, a crowd of people had spied him coming and had followed him through the village, with tears still flowing freely He laid the boy at his mothers feet, upon his bloodied tunic he laid the broken saber more a childs toy than a weapon....
Thank you for listening to my tale of a warrior.
<span style="font-style: italic;">Just to let you know Rumil told another short tale last night but due to room I did not post it.</span>
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Our next story teller is Malice; <span style="font-style: italic;">For those that may not know Malice is a DJ for UO Radio.</span>
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<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">*clears throat* </span>Well Done Rumil hard act to follow.
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Dragon Dances...</span>
</div> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">originally told by the great bard, Papa G.
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</div> </div> The world spins and twirls memories swirl with past mistakes old shames claim bits of energy but yet, the Dragon still does dance.
Vampires steal rewards earned, lovers try to change that which they say they love, focused on goals, gold things, love slips by, afraid to take a chance? Unknown, but the dragon still does dance.
The Gods above watch and laugh at how hard the warrior tries. Reflections of truths ring, the puzzle to find. Lost rites, the lance, to bring Caesar down Searching, the dragon does dance
Music plays within, Echoing an awful din, heard by an old sage alone Madness holding onto sadness under a moon as white as bone but the dragon dances on.
Come, be skyclad, throw all hopes to those above, To the sound of the sea we, you and me, will bring power to cone, and lust to bear will ye too dance with the dragon in the winter air?
Within a circle of made of good wishes alone prances a poet, waiting for she who could love me far from home, feeling alone the dragon dances still.
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Our next teller of tall tales was Gudrun, now Gudrun is not great warrior, ney my fellow citizens of Sonoma. Gudrun is a beggar and a simple herder, yet with very high skills in hiding, I could not get a picture of his paperdoll last night as it kept blinking out just as I would go to snap it. Gudrun also told two last night again sorry as I will post his first. His first explains why he is a beggar today.
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">A tale of me problems at the me only job;</span>
<span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div> <span style="font-weight: bold;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">Dear Lords I give this note to you to tell you of my plight
For at the time of writing I am not a pretty sight
My body is all black and blue, my face a deathly grey
And I write this note to say why Gudrun's not at work today.
Whilst working on the Castle top,some bricks I had to clear
To throw them down from such a height was not a good idea
The foreman wasn't very pleased, the bloody awkward sod
He said I had to cart them down the ladders in my hod.
Now clearing all these bricks by hand, it was so very slow
So I hoisted up a barrel and secured the rope below
But in my haste to do the job, I was too blind to see
That a barrel full of building bricks was heavier than me.
And so when I untied the rope, the barrel fell like lead
And clinging tightly to the rope I started up instead
I shot up like a rocket till to my dismay I found
That half way up I met the bloody barrel coming down.
Well the barrel broke my shoulder, as to the ground it sped
And when I reached the top I banged the pulley with my head
I clung on tightly, numb with shock, from this almighty blow
And the barrel spilled out half the bricks, far below.
Now when these bricks had fallen from the barrel to the floor
I then outweighed the barrel and so started down once more
Still clinging tightly to the rope, my body racked with pain
When half way down, I met the bloody barrel once again.
The force of this collision, heard half way up the block
Caused multiple abrasions and a nasty state of shock
Still clinging tightly to the rope I fell towards the ground
And I landed on the broken bricks the barrel scattered round.
I lay there groaning on the ground I thought I'd passed the worst
But the barrel hit the pulley wheel, and then the bottom burst
A shower of bricks rained down on me, I hadn't got a hope
As I lay there bleeding on the ground, I let go the bloody rope.
The barrel then being heavier then started down once more
And landed right across me as I lay upon the floor
It broke three ribs, and my left arm, and I can only say
That I hope you'll understand why Gudrun's not at work today.
thats why Im a beggar, real work is too painful
<div style="text-align: left;">Being the hour was late for me I said my good nights to all there and return home to the <a target="_blank" href=http://uo.stratics.com/thb/info/THBSonomaRuneLib.jpg>THB Tower</a>. Before retiring for the night I quickly check the images I had taken, edit a few to show and prepared my notes for this article today. With that done I said my good nights to the lands of Sosaria, a smile on my face as I saw DragonSnack guarding the Minoc bank. Till we meet, be safe and have fun.
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<h1><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">Yew Merry Center for All!</span></h1>
Greetings, Kimi Mori here coming to you once more from the lands we know as Sosaria, today I bring you the tales that were told to us at the <a target="_blank" href=http://www.bobplex.org/YMCA/html/index.php>Yew Merry Center for All last night, while I was there. They were still going strong when I left two hours later. For those that may not know it, the YMCA is one of the longest running player events on Sonoma. And this year the YMCA will be celebrating its 8th year since it birth here on Sonoma. I think that really grand. Can you give me a <span style="font-weight: bold;">shout out</span> for the YMCA and our ever so graceful caretaker Dor.
Tonights guests were a mixture of people from all over, besides Dor and myself, we had Lord Malice [aka Spyderbite] from Sosaria Live, Satin-n-Lace, Rapier, Boris, Machine Gun Mimi [E^E] along with several other members of [E^E], Lord Nexus and several other people that came and left during this two hours period. I apologize if I miss anyone name from last night.
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><big>Episode Eighteen: Conquering Hero</big>
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</div> I used my crayons to write a story. DragonSnack seemed in one of his moods. Cough was quiet in my backpack, but I think I heard him snicker when I wrote about my misadventures. All finished. I said. Neither horse replied. I flashed a message to Queen Mum. As I am a man of action I proceeded before her reply. Since, the book was to be revealed at the PAC House, I journeyed there. I dismounted and asked DS to follow. As I entered the house DragonSnack disappeared with a twinkle. It seemed odd behavior for a following pet. Not so odd for DS. I quickly realized that he had stepped on a teleporter to the roof. Uh oh. Rooftops and DragonSnacks are not a good mix! I stepped on the teleporter and appeared on the roof. DragonSnack had crossed the roof and gazed, motionless away from me. I implored the horse to not jump! Thankfully, he followed me back down.
By then, Queen Mum was requesting My presence in Skara Brae. So, I journeyed there. I was quite lost as I refuse to ask Directions. Queen Mum being the wise Queen, guided me anyway. Eventually we met up and she gave me a tour of some things I around interesting buildings there. I only got lost one more time. Not bad for me. Queen Mum had to leave as the duties of queening stuff keeps her busy. I realize what a poor citizen I have been! With all the cool stuff I get to do in Sosaria, I need to give back!
I remembered from my younger days how pesky those lichs were that hung out south of Yew. DragonSnack and I journeyed to crossroads for Skara Brae and Britain. I headed up the road toward Yew. Along the way, we were accosted by brigands. Twas not it my duty to make this road safe? I calmly asked these misguided fellows to seek gainful employment and they departed. That is if calmly asked meant attacked and departed as in dead.
As we journeyed further up the road we continued our duty by assisting a troll, an ogre and a harpy to depart. Yes, we killed them too. We were quite proud that we had removed these threats to the citizens. No. No. Thanks are not necessary. What was that smell? A vile odor did overwhelm me. Then there was that tingling sensation, reminiscent of vile lich magic, it was. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Egads!</span> One of those vile undead was trying to cause bodily harm to us! Fear not good citizens. I did not leave him to hinder others. I withdrew my katana of undead ganking and attacked said lich. He used he powerful magics on me but was no match for my power. After all, are I not a hero? Confident in my superior ability I advanced on another vile lich. He attacked me with his wicked magic and I beat on him with my katana.
I will not describe the details of these furious battles as a gentleman does not. Rest easy dear friends, I returned that lich to his grave. Apparently, word had spread among the lich community that the Glorious Maddwg, knight and all around do-gooder, was here. As I was fighting a lich another ran over. One lich is no big deal but I was struggling with two. I was in a fight to the death with those two hell spawn and failed to notice the two other lichs that sneaked up through the trees.
As any woman can attest, most men are not very good at multitasking. I am a man. I quickly considered my options, And <span style="font-weight: bold;">RAN</span>! I was out of sight from those lichs when one of their evil spells hit me. Everything went gray as I slid from the saddle, right beside a headless creature. DragonSnack guarded my fallen form and slew the headless thing. Alas, he was no match for a passing lich.
My spirit drifted northward until it crossed paths with a healer. He roused me and I recovered my senses enough to ask Cough for help. In spirit form I had witnessed DragonSnack slay the headless one. I had not witnessed the lich attack. I was devastated when I arrived to find a lich hovering over DragonSnacks body. I slew that vile being with a few whacks of my katana! That did not quell the storm of rage racing through my blood!
I raced into a crowd, three is a crowd, of lichs with reckless abandon. Many times I came close to being slain just to have a bandage repair the damage in the nick of time. With Lady Luck by my side, and a stack of bandages, I prevailed. My anger was still not satiated. I roamed about slaying many lichs until I grew weary. My duty fulfilled I journeyed to Haven. The good and devout Lady Jocelyn was aghast at the demise of DragonSnack and used her power to restore him.
I bumped into Lord Nexus and we chatted about things that veterans chat about. Apparently, Lady Alana Starbreeze found most of our conversation less than appealing. Shopping seemed to be on her agenda. So with a salute to the soldier, Nexus, I moved on. It doth make an old veteran proud to see the next generation pick up the torch. We have all witnessed the gathering of warriors in Luna. Glory does abound with the tales of the brave bank sitters.
Even Haven has many that do keep that place safe from miscreants. I find it peculiar that other cities do not garner these throngs. Even the once hustling and bustling Britain is near ghost like these days. I decided that it falls on the shoulders of us do-gooder, care-bear, knightly types to rectify this situation. DragonSnack agreed that bank-sitting was probably something we could do.
He is a fine, brave steed! We journeyed to the city of Minoc. We walked from the moongate to that city and passed none of those infamous reds along the way. Perhaps they would be waiting for us inside the city? We searched the city high and low but found none of those reds. Nor any blues for that matter. Maddwg hath conquered Minoc! Now that Minoc was secure, I decided that we must protect our bank. Just like they do in Luna. We stood outside and waited for passing citizens to pay homage to the new ruler. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. We waited at least an infernal 10 minutes! I spied the town crier, Violetta. That sexy succubus. I inquired as to the news of my conquest. Aghast that she had no news, I asked for any juicy gossip. She had no gossip either! I fired her.
Now, making the world safe for fellow citizens and conquering small cities does cause one to become dry. I promoted DragonSnack to Captain of the BankSitters. I went in search of a decent ale. I ventured up to the Barnacle and ordered a draft. I made small talk with Christina the waiter and used my best manly lines on her. Certainly she has no idea whom I am. Shot down in flames, I returned to the bank where DragonSnack was exhausted from that dangerous bank sitting. Satisified in a job well done and oblivious of wrong doings at the bank, we called it a day.
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Our next adventurer to speak of greatness was Rumil of Lorain;
<div style="text-align: center;"><big><span style="font-weight: bold;">Last Rites of a Warrior</span></big>
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The battle was over, They had won or so it seemed to those did not know any better. The army from Despise had been defeated to the last monster. The last survivor of the human army stood with his back to a large oak tree, his chipped and bloodied sword pointing downward, as his shoulders slumped from exhaustion.
Marak was his given name, in his mid fifties but still strong and powerfully built Marak's black hair was turning gray giving him the look of a grizzled bear his bright green eyes were tired and dull. They may have defeated the monster army and saved the village, but at what cost. How many men had died? Was it worth it? Would the widows and children wonder at night about their husbands and fathers? With a heavy sigh, feeling like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, Marak gazed about him. The dead lay about him, the men, the boys, the monsters piled beyond measure, pools of blood not yet congealed gleamed in the late evening sun.
All because of him or so he believed, It was he who had found the tracks of the army. His words that had fired the hearts of the men and boys who eagerly took up arms to defend their village. Who was he to have spoken what right did he have to demand that they fight and save their few belongings. Once more Marak wondered if he had done right or wrong. It was time for him to go for he had to return to the village they must be informed about the outcome. Marak said a quick prayer to protect their souls and send them to Valhalla.
Picking his way through the dead and mangled bodies he moved slowly, his heart was heavy with the death of so many, tears threatened to fall unbidden. Past most of the heavy fighting he turned towards a cleft in the cliffs, an opening just wide enough for an oxen cart to pass through, the only way into the valley from this direction. Moving closer he began to notice a large number of monster bodies, what had happenedhere he wondered. Had something gone on he hadn't known about who had killed all these fierce monster's. Who ever had done it had fought a mighty battle, the bodies were piled high Marak spied a piece of metal shining in the dirt and went to investigate. It was a the broken blade of a saber a few feet further was a broken haft of a spear. It was then he heard the moan low filled with pain, it came from somewhere deep within the pile of bodies. Marak moved a few bodies and moved forward and saw an astonishing sight.
Beside a pile of bodies lay a youth, about sixteen or so he was pale and his tunic was covered with blood from the chest down. In his hand was a foot and a half wooden shaft with a bloody spear point at the end of it. This was the other end of the spear he had found, the boy must have been the one to kill all these monsters.
To a vetran like Marak the story was simple the boy had discovered that a band of monsters were trying to get through the pass and he had went to defend it. Somewhere along the way his saber had broke and he was run through his chest with a spear.The boy must have broken off part of the spear and used it as a weapon.
Quickly Marak fell to his knees beside the boy, brushing back long sandy colored hair from the boys face. Blue eyes opened and with trouble the boy spoke. ''The battle?'' Don't talk lad it will just make it worse, ''the battle is over we won I suppose you could call it that with all but two being dead but enough talk'' have some water. '' Marak took his waterbag off his shoulder and pulled out the stopper tilting the boys head slightly and putting the waterbag to his mouth. After a couple of swallows the boy lay back.
It was plain with the look on the boys face he was in great pain. ''Hold on I will get my horse and'' '' No please don't leave me, I dont want to die alone. I don't want to die at all. I'm only a boy I've just begun to live and... ''It's bad isn't it?''
At first Marak thought about lying to the boy, trying to comfort him in his last moments. He glanced over the boys wounds, besides the hole in his chest there was a long gash from the bottom of his right ribcage to his left hip. He didn't have to look to see it was the one killing him. Since the boy had fought so bravely Marak felt he deserved the truth. ''Not much longer lad''.
Thank you sir, I dont mind dying so much as long as someone is here with me to the end. ''You fought bravely lad, your father would be proud'' Marak said his voice threatening to break. It wasn't much comfort he knew but it was all he could think to say. 'Marak had never been good with words especially ones of comfort. He felt the boy should have someone say something good before he died.
'' I just wished I could have died alongside my father. we used to joke that one day we'd die together on the battlefield, You know I saw him fall with the first charge''. Thats when I noticed the enemy heading this way I cried out, I tried to get others to come but no one heard me and I knew I had to stop.... A sudden fit of coughing shook the boys slender frame, he trembled as blood gushed from between his lips. One of his hands which had been holding Marak's squeezed harder as the pain washed over him.
Marak swallowed hard to fight back the tears that threatened to fall, the last thing the boy needed to see was a grown man crying. It was a struggle for Marak though, he had always been partial to kids. Feeling pain when they were hurt or crying. Though the boy no doubt thought of himself as a man he still seemed a boy to Marak. So young and innocent such a waste that a boy should die in a pool of his own blood. ''It hurts so bad, like a fire raging inside me''. Is it always this bad? It's never that way in the stories the people are cut or stabbed and they die, they die feeling little pain but I'm feeling lots of pain.
''I know lad, I'm sorry if there was anything I could do to help you I would''. ''Then finish it''. The boy said with sudden determination. ''What? I can't do that.''
''You lied to me didn't you''. It was a simple statement, said without harshness or remorse to it, yet it hit Marak a blow he had never felt before. He simply nodded as he struggled to keep the tears from coming. He knew what the boy wanted but could he do it. ''Not exactly, I cannot say when you'll die anymore than the next fellow. I have seen men with wounds less than your's die within seconds others last for days.
Marak stopped then from the look in the boys eyes he knew. ''Please do it, I don't want to die but I also don't want to suffer like this. '' But I don't know if I can''. Marak shook as he spoke. The boys blue eyes were wide with pleading, ''It's one thing to kill a man in the heat of battle, but to end so short a life, I'm not sure if I'm that strong''. Neither spoke for awhile after that, the boy had made his plead and the pain in his eyes spoke volumes. He could suffer for hours yet all because of weakness. Slowly Marak reached for his knife it was sharp and strong. One quick thrust into the heart and the boy would be no more. He had slain enough men to know how to kill and even how to make it painless. With his right hand trembling he drew the knife, it slid from the sheath with a whisper of steel. That sounded like a hiss of death to Marak, how could he do it he wondered. This was no hardfaced coldhearted killer, It was just a freshed faced, bright eyed boy, He should be swimming in the lake, or walking along a forest path with his girlfriend not dying out here in a pool of blood on some lonely battlefield.
Blood poured from the boys mouth as and his body shook again as the pain gripped him. With tears threatening to come any moment, Marak laid the knife against the boys chest, he tilted it slightly so it would go right in quickly. ''Thank you sir, my name is Sarn tell my mother and the others how I died please. Tell them not to cry, I will be with my father resting and I will be waiting for them in the halls of Valhalla. I know they will be sad but make them understand why I did it. Tell my sister and brother I'll miss playing with them or watching them grow up. Remind them that while resting we will be able to see all that goes on and I will be watching from time to time.
Sarn put one hand around Maraks, and shoved the knife into his heart, he twitched for a moment and then lay still finally free from the pain. No longer able to keep the tears from flowing Marak wept openly his whole body shook as the tears ran down his cheeks and onto Sarns chest. Through his fifty odd years of life he'd known much pain, nothing like this though had ever affected him as much as this young warrior laying in a pool of blood.
With tears blinding him he slid the knife into it's sheath. Gently picking Sarn up he turned towards the village. It was dark when Marak reached Sarn's home, a crowd of people had spied him coming and had followed him through the village, with tears still flowing freely He laid the boy at his mothers feet, upon his bloodied tunic he laid the broken saber more a childs toy than a weapon....
Thank you for listening to my tale of a warrior.
<span style="font-style: italic;">Just to let you know Rumil told another short tale last night but due to room I did not post it.</span>
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<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">*clears throat* </span>Well Done Rumil hard act to follow.
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Dragon Dances...</span>
</div> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">originally told by the great bard, Papa G.
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</div> </div> The world spins and twirls memories swirl with past mistakes old shames claim bits of energy but yet, the Dragon still does dance.
Vampires steal rewards earned, lovers try to change that which they say they love, focused on goals, gold things, love slips by, afraid to take a chance? Unknown, but the dragon still does dance.
The Gods above watch and laugh at how hard the warrior tries. Reflections of truths ring, the puzzle to find. Lost rites, the lance, to bring Caesar down Searching, the dragon does dance
Music plays within, Echoing an awful din, heard by an old sage alone Madness holding onto sadness under a moon as white as bone but the dragon dances on.
Come, be skyclad, throw all hopes to those above, To the sound of the sea we, you and me, will bring power to cone, and lust to bear will ye too dance with the dragon in the winter air?
Within a circle of made of good wishes alone prances a poet, waiting for she who could love me far from home, feeling alone the dragon dances still.
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">A tale of me problems at the me only job;</span>
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<div style="text-align: center;">Dear Lords I give this note to you to tell you of my plight
For at the time of writing I am not a pretty sight
My body is all black and blue, my face a deathly grey
And I write this note to say why Gudrun's not at work today.
Whilst working on the Castle top,some bricks I had to clear
To throw them down from such a height was not a good idea
The foreman wasn't very pleased, the bloody awkward sod
He said I had to cart them down the ladders in my hod.
Now clearing all these bricks by hand, it was so very slow
So I hoisted up a barrel and secured the rope below
But in my haste to do the job, I was too blind to see
That a barrel full of building bricks was heavier than me.
And so when I untied the rope, the barrel fell like lead
And clinging tightly to the rope I started up instead
I shot up like a rocket till to my dismay I found
That half way up I met the bloody barrel coming down.
Well the barrel broke my shoulder, as to the ground it sped
And when I reached the top I banged the pulley with my head
I clung on tightly, numb with shock, from this almighty blow
And the barrel spilled out half the bricks, far below.
Now when these bricks had fallen from the barrel to the floor
I then outweighed the barrel and so started down once more
Still clinging tightly to the rope, my body racked with pain
When half way down, I met the bloody barrel once again.
The force of this collision, heard half way up the block
Caused multiple abrasions and a nasty state of shock
Still clinging tightly to the rope I fell towards the ground
And I landed on the broken bricks the barrel scattered round.
I lay there groaning on the ground I thought I'd passed the worst
But the barrel hit the pulley wheel, and then the bottom burst
A shower of bricks rained down on me, I hadn't got a hope
As I lay there bleeding on the ground, I let go the bloody rope.
The barrel then being heavier then started down once more
And landed right across me as I lay upon the floor
It broke three ribs, and my left arm, and I can only say
That I hope you'll understand why Gudrun's not at work today.
thats why Im a beggar, real work is too painful
<div style="text-align: left;">Being the hour was late for me I said my good nights to all there and return home to the <a target="_blank" href=http://uo.stratics.com/thb/info/THBSonomaRuneLib.jpg>THB Tower</a>. Before retiring for the night I quickly check the images I had taken, edit a few to show and prepared my notes for this article today. With that done I said my good nights to the lands of Sosaria, a smile on my face as I saw DragonSnack guarding the Minoc bank. Till we meet, be safe and have fun.
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