I've been reading this thread since it started, and I finally have a story I find worth posting.
T'was a dark, stormy night. One lone adventurer, whose name was lost to anonymity, was wandering lost through a twisted, haunted swamp. He had encountered many terrors that night, such as undead crocodiles, zombie bandits, and Armok knows what else. But all of these previous foes were easily avoided or slain with little difficulty.
That is, until he heard a eerie cackling coming from all around him.
From every direction they came, faster than one can blink and out for his blood. The first came at him from behind, but his reflexes saved him as he whirled around, his blade outstretched. His shining sword sliced clean through the beasts arm, its hand sailing off in an arc. The creature screamed as it watched its severed hand land in a puddle, giving our hero a clean chop at its neck. Down it goes, head rolling through the muck.
Two more approach him from both sides. He quickly flings a fireball at one, igniting it and throwing it into a panic, and parries the blow of the other. He kicks the flaming one to the ground, then bashes the other one with his shield. With the beast stunned, he runs it through with his weapon, ending its life, then turns to the other. It gets off the ground, covered in burns and mud, and wails at him in a manner that would paralyze lesser men with fear. But not our hero. He shouts right back at the creature and charges, blade at the ready, and sweeps the things legs out from under it. It lands on the ground with a thud, and he drives his sword through the attackers head, slaying it easily.
As the cackling fades, he wipes the muck and water from he brow. "That was far too easy," he taunts. Then he hears a faint hum from behind and notices a faint purple glow. Before he can turn around, a zap hits him in the lower back, and numbness fills his entire body. His arms and legs go limp, and he falls onto his back. Unable to turn his head, he lays there, listening to a soft scuffling sound grow louder. "What coward dares to attack me with a paralysis spell from behind!?" The sound grows louder and closer. "Once this wears off, I'll see to it that you're turned into a bloody pulp!" He feels pressure on his chest. He manages to look down to see the severed hand of the first boogeyman crawling up his torso. "What kind of dark magic is this? And why a severed hand? What's the worst one hand can possibly do to me, even while I'm helpless? I'm-" Before he can finish, the hand pounces onto his face and grabs on tightly. He tries to breath in, but the hand has his nose and mouth held shut! He attempts a muffled scream and tries to flail his arms, but to no avail. His vision blurs, and eventually goes to black.
Such was the tale of Urist McAdventurepants.
I may have embellished a little too much, but that's the gist of it. That was the tale of how one of my most successful adventurers met one of the worst ends. It was in a pretty modded game.
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Topic: Share Your Funny Stories With Me! (Help DF Talk) (Read 85743 times)