[Vile] Puppy Kicking PCs at Work


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    ° Ignore Ankh-Morpork Guard
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    [Vile] Puppy Kicking PCs at Work

    The sun was rising off on the horizon. It was a calm and foggy morning, with a strong feeling of moisture in the air...making it thick to breathe. A small encampment sat up against the Eastern border of a small, unnamed forest. Because of the distance from the main road, the travellers camped here were comfortably out of view of any passing creatures...except a few forest creatures which took little notice to the camping troupe.

    They had come from the North, avoiding an area that knew some of them too well for their own liking. Through chance, fate, or some other strange force, these individuals were travelling together...to the South. They knew that only ten or so miles along the road was the small city of Taeirn, capital of the coast-based kingdom of Relink, ruled by a younger monarch that was normally oblivious to the world around him. Already within the lands borders, the travellers could smell the ocean off in the distance, though sight of it was impossible. Besides, the city of Taerin was more interesting anyway...being small, it held opportunity for those with enough will to get what they wanted without too much trouble.
    Last edited by Creamsteak; Saturday, 5th June, 2004 at 08:28 AM. Reason: Added [Vile] Tag

 

  • #2
    Quote Originally Posted by Ankh-Morpork Guard
    The sun was rising off on the horizon. It was a calm and foggy morning, with a strong feeling of moisture in the air...making it thick to breathe. A small encampment sat up against the Eastern border of a small, unnamed forest. Because of the distance from the main road, the travellers camped here were comfortably out of view of any passing creatures...except a few forest creatures which took little notice to the camping troupe.

    They had come from the North, avoiding an area that knew some of them too well for their own liking. Through chance, fate, or some other strange force, these individuals were travelling together...to the South. They knew that only ten or so miles along the road was the small city of Taeirn, capital of the coast-based kingdom of Relink, ruled by a younger monarch that was normally oblivious to the world around him. Already within the lands borders, the travellers could smell the ocean off in the distance, though sight of it was impossible. Besides, the city of Taerin was more interesting anyway...being small, it held opportunity for those with enough will to get what they wanted without too much trouble.
    Gwyn rises early, checking the rabbit snares he'd set the night before. Finding that he has caught one, he begins to skin it for his breakfast, its shrill cries fading swiftly as its hide is painstakingly removed.
    Last edited by Paxus Asclepius; Friday, 13th February, 2004 at 04:20 AM.
    "What do you want?"
    "I want to get the hell out of here!"
    "Oh, I'm sorry, we're fresh out of that. I'm afraid all we have left is untimely death!"

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    ° Ignore Thomas Hobbes
    Rhesa wakes up with a start and a small scream of her own that's only partially an act. She fumbles for her glass spectacles out of aquired habit than any actual need (they're only flat glass, after all) and dons them. Second verse, same as the first, just as bad and twice as worse she thinks semi-incoherently, still mostly asleep. Helluva wake-up call. The she schools herself- that's not the way Aeweth thinks. She puts her pillow- a rolled-up cloak- over her head in a faked attempt to block out the sound, and then says in a prissy voice. "Some of us are trying to sleep, you know." Aeweth gives up and gets out of bed. She dons her cloak to ward off the cold and stands a safe ten feet away from Gwyn. She sniffs. "Oryctolagus cuniculus," Rhesa says, a fragment of memory allowing her to improve the prissy-intellectual mask. Aeweth looks on in add odd combination of disgust and fascination. "They taste better if you kill them first, you know. The adrenaline toughens the meat," she adds, in the same snobbish tone.
    ôTaxation is very much like dairy farming. The task is to extract the maximum amount of milk with the minimum amount of moo. And I'm afraid to say, that these days, all I'm getting is moo.ö

  • #4
    Quote Originally Posted by Thomas Hobbes
    Rhesa wakes up with a start and a small scream of her own that's only partially an act. She fumbles for her glass spectacles out of aquired habit than any actual need (they're only flat glass, after all) and dons them. Second verse, same as the first, just as bad and twice as worse she thinks semi-incoherently, still mostly asleep. Helluva wake-up call. The she schools herself- that's not the way Aeweth thinks. She puts her pillow- a rolled-up cloak- over her head in a faked attempt to block out the sound, and then says in a prissy voice. "Some of us are trying to sleep, you know." Aeweth gives up and gets out of bed. She dons her cloak to ward off the cold and stands a safe ten feet away from Gwyn. She sniffs. "Oryctolagus cuniculus," Rhesa says, a fragment of memory allowing her to improve the prissy-intellectual mask. Aeweth looks on in add odd combination of disgust and fascination. "They taste better if you kill them first, you know. The adrenaline toughens the meat," she adds, in the same snobbish tone.
    Gwyn smiles, a chilling sight at any time of day. "I happen to like my meat tough. It's no fun if it yields from the beginning, after all. Want some?" he asks, extending a bloody leg.
    "What do you want?"
    "I want to get the hell out of here!"
    "Oh, I'm sorry, we're fresh out of that. I'm afraid all we have left is untimely death!"

  • #5
    Dulanse rises with an extended yawn and cracks his neck.

    "Aaaah, yet another wonderful morning. A nice, crisp breeze, plenty of dirt, and enough insect bites to..." Dulanse interrupts himself as he glances over towards Rhesa and Gwyn though half-shut eyelids, notes the bloody rabbit limb in Gwyn's grasp, and adds "Well now, that's certainly appetizing."

    After taking a moment to spash a bit of water on his face and freshen up, Dulanse begins his morning stretches, mumbling his typical half-exercise routine, half-pep talk to himself the entire time.

    "Never know when you'll have to defend yourself, (straight strike) so it's always best to be (parry and riposte) prepared. Keep the muscles (adjust grip) loose, let your body flow like water, and any opponent is..."
    A war between the criminal syndicates is brewing, and Hong Kong is about to burn! All that stands in the way are six brave men - will they triumph, or will they fan the flames? Find out in...

    The Dragons Reborn I: Burning Streets
    JOHN E. SMOKE presents a JOHN SMOKE Film
    Starring PAXUS ASCLEPIUS VELMONT CORINTHI TSADKIEL RBINGHAM CEPTER
    Screenplay by J. SMOKE
    Cinematography by JES Produced by JOHN E. SMOKE Directed by JOHN SMOKE

    The Film : Behind the Scenes : Cast and Crew/Character Biographies

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    ° Ignore Isida Kep'Tukari

    Lydia Shardweaver, female human cleric of Wee Jas

    *Lydia watches in the direction of the sea, having stood third watch, the dead man's watch. She prayed to her Lady in the dying of the night, renewing her connection with her Goddess and patron. Stretching, the small woman prepared boiling water for tea and her own bitter, black kava.*

    Some of them sleep like children, she muses, drinking her steaming cup. And other sleep the sleep of the dead. Hmm... Fabian is really quite pleasent when he sleeps. Should he die, he would make a remarkable companion.

    *The scroll in the case at her side seems to nearly burn with intensity in her mind. Greatly she desires to find the perfect person to use it on. But not yet, nothing has presented itself yet.*

    *Seeing the others awake she gives them a nod.*

    "Good morning," she says coolly, noting Gwyn's rabbit. Putting some of the hot water in a larger pot she indicates for Gwyn to put the rabbit in it.

    "If you want stew, put it in. That means we won't have to eat those trail rations plain," she says, reaching for some dried vegetables and journey bread to thicken the broth.
    Last edited by Isida Kep'Tukari; Friday, 13th February, 2004 at 07:19 AM.

  • #7
    Quote Originally Posted by Isida Kep'Tukari
    *Lydia watches in the direction of the sea, having stood third watch, the dead man's watch. She prayed to her Lady in the dying of the night, renewing her connection with her Goddess and patron. Stretching, the small woman prepared boiling water for tea and her own bitter, black kava.*

    Some of them sleep like children, she muses, drinking her steaming cup. And other sleep the sleep of the dead. Hmm... Fabian is really quite pleasent when he sleeps. Should he die, he would make a remarkable companion.

    *The scroll in the case at her side seems to nearly burn with intensity in her mind. Greatly she desires to find the perfect person to use it on. But not yet, nothing has presented itself yet.*

    *Seeing the others awake she gives them a nod.*

    "Good morning," she says coolly, noting Gwyn's rabbit. Putting some of the hot water in a larger pot she indicates for Gwyn to put the rabbit in it.

    "If you want stew, put it in. That means we won't have to eat those trail rations plain," she says, reaching for some dried vegetables and journey bread to thicken the broth.
    Gwyn quickly slices the rabbit into thin strips, tossing the meat into the stew and discarding the offal. "We'd better be able to get a decent lunch in Taeirn. I'm getting tired of stews and bread."
    "What do you want?"
    "I want to get the hell out of here!"
    "Oh, I'm sorry, we're fresh out of that. I'm afraid all we have left is untimely death!"

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    ° Ignore Isida Kep'Tukari
    "You're not the only one, Bright Star," Lydia says calmly, stirring the stew. After several minutes she tastes it and nods. "That will do. Eat if you want any."

    *Turning to Gwyn, she nods her head.*

    "I appreciate the fresh meat. You are a good hunter," she says. "Tell me something; some hunters often say a prayer when they take the life of an animal. Do you do so?"

  • #9
    Quote Originally Posted by Isida Kep'Tukari
    "You're not the only one, Bright Star," Lydia says calmly, stirring the stew. After several minutes she tastes it and nods. "That will do. Eat if you want any."

    *Turning to Gwyn, she nods her head.*

    "I appreciate the fresh meat. You are a good hunter," she says. "Tell me something; some hunters often say a prayer when they take the life of an animal. Do you do so?"
    Gwyn looks genuinely confused. "Why would I do such a thing? To what would I pray? I am strong, the animal was weak, so I eat."
    "What do you want?"
    "I want to get the hell out of here!"
    "Oh, I'm sorry, we're fresh out of that. I'm afraid all we have left is untimely death!"

  • #10
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    ° Ignore Isida Kep'Tukari
    "Those hunter I speak of, some pray to the spirit of the animal so that it might be reborn as another animal and replenish the game. Others pray to the gods of luck and the hunt to thank them for letting them get the game. And some pray to Death, thanking Her that she chose to honor the game with Her presence. It is a curious custom. I simply wondered if you were of the same mind," Lydia says, her expression somewhat preoccupied.

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