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Author Topic: Small Adventure Stories Thread.  (Read 1447 times)

tonnot98

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Small Adventure Stories Thread.
« on: October 27, 2014, 09:18:36 pm »

Title says all you need to know.

Once upon a time, there was a human that decided to go on an adventure! Now, while this is quite common, so is the rest of the story. (Which happens to take place in a world that I ramped all of the monster/megabeast/nightcreature settings way up.)

This human found two companions within a small fortress, and heard rumors about a werebeast in some cave towards the south. This adventurer wielded a bronze sword and shield, one companion had a copper crossbow, and the other had a silver pike. On the way towards the lair of the beast, night fell, and with night came a pack of dingoes while the three adventurers slept! Before being awoken by the noise, the man that wielded the silver pike had his throat torn out by the dingoes. 5 of them our adventurer counted, and 4 of them he killed, as he only allowed the crossbowman to finish off one that was severely crippled.

But they must go on.

Upon entry of the lair during the following dawn, the two adventurers set eyes upon a fiendish looking beast in the shape of a giant mouse! The weremouse quickly jumped at them, but the two adventurers quickly dodged out of the way. The beast is dodging every strike, he parries to the left, the adventurer counters to the right, and he catches him in the neck! Only managing to tear the fat... The beast realizing that the crossbowman is a much easier foe charges at him, knocking him down and biting him through his sleeves and through his muscles and arteries. The swordsman stomps on the beast's foot, shattering the majority of the bones within, and finally shoves his sword through the beast's head. The crossbowman stands and gives the original adventurer a wary look.

He knows that he now carries the curse.

With a slight hesitation, the adventurer swipes towards the cursed man, but misses. The cursed man wastes no time, however, in placing a bolt through the adventurer's kidney. But who needs a kidney? In just one more strike, the adventurer decapitates his former comrade. The now lone adventurer sets forth to another near-by fortress. Upon entering the gate though, he was not greeted with open arms. Behind the gate were two human archers with arrows pointing to the adventurer's head, and death in their eyes. One in the heart, and another in the guts is all the reward that this adventurer gets for killing such a vile creature. Such is life when one seeks fun.
« Last Edit: October 27, 2014, 09:54:08 pm by tonnot98 »
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Not sure if dying of old age is an honor or a shame for weaponmasters. On the one hand, it means they never got the opportunity to die in glorious battle. On the other hand, it means nothing could beat them in glorious battle.
Meow.

Magnumcannon

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Re: Small Adventure Stories Thread.
« Reply #1 on: October 28, 2014, 03:22:32 pm »

It was inevitable.
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Aelund

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Re: Small Adventure Stories Thread.
« Reply #2 on: October 28, 2014, 05:44:43 pm »

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NoobKid

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Re: Small Adventure Stories Thread.
« Reply #3 on: November 01, 2014, 12:44:32 pm »

Do companions really contract the curses? I myself can't even contract the vampire curse.

     The adventurer looked around the cold, bedless room he'd been given permission to stay in. He stood, and walked out the door. He was greeted by his small entourage of young soldiers. He gave them all a curt nod. Let's go.

     Hours later, the group had arrived at the outskirts of a shady hamlet. The adventurer knew who - or rather, what - was lay within. "Take me to the human vampire Thomod." He said to a peasant. The peasant led the entourage to a cottage on the other side of town. The peasant nodded gravely, before running off. Tense eyes watched from the windows. There would be no sleep for the hamlet tonight. The adventurer opened the door and was greeted by the sight of a normal-looking herbalist in a red tunic. He greeted them politely enough, just an occasional glance at their steel blades to note. Then, all of a sudden, the mood seemed to turn red, and the night was bathed in blood. A soldier was swaying slowly, the herbalist was in front of him, holding a lump of red in his hands. The soldier fell to his knees, a dead man praying. The adventurer swung his mighty axe at the beast, and the attack glanced away, but it hardly mattered; six more followed. It was a most gruesome death, a hit on the shoulder, then the hip, the torso, until six axes were stuck in its guts. The adventurer heaved, and swung his axe in one graceful motion at the prone beast's neck. It was over. The Weary Entourage stepped into the moonlight, and were greeted by the bolts, fists, and blades of a hundred angry townspeople.
« Last Edit: November 01, 2014, 12:47:19 pm by NoobKid »
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MrGabenWach

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Re: Small Adventure Stories Thread.
« Reply #4 on: December 10, 2014, 08:18:17 pm »

A cool breeze blows by Uncleclusters. The sleepy hamlet prepares for night, as the townsfolk scuttle into their homes, savvy of the night creatures that prowl the wild, dangerous expanses between fledgling civilization. That calm is quickly put down by the sounds of siege and combat.

"Is this an attack? What's going on?!", A spearman blurts out before spilling his guts over a cold iron blade. With  the last of his strength he forces his spear into his assailant's arm, tearing the muscle and neutering the limb's usefulness. But his attacker is unfazed: with ceaseless, mechanical determination, the man brings down the weight of his powerful guantlet-clad fist, and the pitiful spearman is brained and killed instantly.

Tista Omensoaks the Untoward Symmetry has come. His vampirism is obvious: his body bears many scars, and the only teeth remaining in his mouth are the ones used to sunder flesh from bone, unable to chew useless food. He is not stopped by pain, and when the dust settles from one of his countless battles, there lies but one unconscious survivor, pale from blood loss, yet strangely possessive of his head, with most of his limbs accounted for. Some fear him for the tales: it is said that he and Nubpo Braidedgrasses the Large Fist of Turqoise, cursed to sanguine feasts at age twelve, once beat down a labyrinth of minotaurs with their bare hands. Others fear him for his ghastly presence: his sickly yellow skin, raspy voice and few long teeth are made all the more terrifying by the ceaseless ooze of pus that comes from the undead suit of iron. But most terrifying of all are his abilities: A Grandmaster of the sword, the wretched bloodsucker cuts down the innocent and turns them into his revenants to terrorize the populace.

A cool breeze escapes the streets of Uncleclusters. The eerie hamlet is silent, soaked in blood and pus, as the sole pale survivor of some wanton rampage stays locked inside their home, savvy of the night creature that prowls The Waxy Hills.
« Last Edit: December 10, 2014, 08:30:02 pm by MrGabenWach »
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pisskop

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Re: Small Adventure Stories Thread.
« Reply #5 on: December 10, 2014, 08:21:05 pm »

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Pisskop's Reblancing Mod - A C:DDA Mod to make life a little (lot) more brutal!
drealmerz7 - pk was supreme pick for traitor too I think, and because of how it all is and pk is he is just feeding into the trollfucking so well.
PKs DF Mod!

MrGabenWach

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Re: Small Adventure Stories Thread.
« Reply #6 on: December 10, 2014, 08:26:04 pm »

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