Legendary Archer
Legendary Thrower
Gather round young children, and let me tell you the story of Dishmab Shorest, the mighty adventurer. Dishmab was a normal young man, until one day out of the blue, he stood up, told his friends and family that he was going to become an adventurer. He grabbed his backpack, and left the house. Ten feet outside the house, he stopped, and stooped down to pick up a rock that had caught his eye in the dirt of the farmyard. Standing back up, he put this rock into his backpack, only to pull it back out, and throw it as hard as he could at the very spot where he had pulled it from the ground. At this point, we thought nothing of it, only to watch in confusion as he bent over again and repeated the same sequence of events; pick up the rock, put it in his backpack, take it out, and then throw it as hard as he could at the ground.
Again and again this strange tablaeu repeated itself, and we rapidly became quite confused. Queries to Dishmab were met with silence, and nothing seemed to bring him out of the strange daze that he seemed to be in. His eyes were glazed over, and his concentration unwaveringly focused on the same repetition of actions. Pick up the rock, store it in the bag, pull it out, and then throw it as hard as he could at the ground. After ten minutes or so of this foolishness, we grew bored of watching the odd spectacle and got back to the work of tending a farm, but as the day wore on, we were amazed at how unerringly precise dishmab's movements were. As the hours turned, we came tot he conclusion that he had gone quite mad, but eventually he must get tired and stop, and then we would take him before the mayor, or perhaps a priest.
But he didn't get tired. Not when the sun set, not when even when it rose again had he moved in the slightest, other than to pick up and throw that one single rock. For two whole days, and two hole nights, he stood there doing nothing but throwing that rock into the ground, and we gave up any hope of his returning to normalcy. Then abruptlyl, at the crack of dawn, 48 hours since he had stepped outside and started throwing that stupid rock, he put it in his bag and left it there. With a single mutter of "Alright, now for ambush swimming training." He began a hilariously poor attempt at sneaking towards the local brook before leaping in, whereupon he was promptly torne to shreds by the local sturgeon population.
A tragic end to be sure, but what else can one expect from someone who has been beset upon by madness. We thought all would go back to normal until the very next morning when Minknot promptly declared that her name was now Dishmab II and stepped outside to the same spot that dishmab had taken up and began to throw stones at the ground......
Author
Topic: Draw your adventures (Read 1257756 times)