Liberty News ForumLNF Forums HereThe Writer's Croft - Creative Writing Corner › Group Story (Fantasy)
Page Index Toggle Pages: 1 ... 3 4 [5] 6  Send TopicPrint
Very Hot Topic (More than 25 Replies) Group Story (Fantasy) (Read 21,004 times)
Darwinist
The Writer's Croft
LNF Bunker
***
Offline

Is morbian the opposite
of lesbian?

Posts: 5,448
Location: Littleton, CO
Joined: Oct 6th, 2012
Gender: Male
Re: Group Story
Reply #40 - Mar 6th, 2013 at 2:45pm
Print Post  
The lichen-spotted remains of the shack's door canted drunkenly in its frame like a rotten tooth in a cadger's jaw. Broad-shouldered Dommen pushed on it and it fell aside with a soggy thump. He led the way into the gloom, his torch creating a box of shifting buttery light around him. Derek and Voridex followed. A sudden fluttering noise had all three reaching for their blades as they looked up just in time to see a brace of disturbed birds caroming among the sagging, moss-dripping rafters, then pelt outside through the doorway. Sheepish grins were exchanged, and swords slid back into scabbards.

The frontmost part of the shack was a single room the dirt floor of which was littered with piles of the scat of a dozen different beasts, spotted with old nitred bat guano and fresher bird droppings. The scent of ammonia dominated every other smell that might have been in the air, but was tolerable. There was a small firepit in the center of the room into which the stone chimney had long ago fallen. In one corner was a small, sagging trestle table with a still whole but rotten wooden chair beside it. Over the long years porcupines had gnawed both arms of the chair to stubs for their salt; portions of the tabletop were well-gnawed too. In the opposite corner of the room the tumbled posts and slats of a bed littered the floor like jackstraws. In the middle of the back wall was a closed door the surface of which looked like a fungus garden, festooned with scattered clusters of tiny mushrooms, amorphic colonies of gaily-colored slime molds, and stiff wood-ears sticking out like little half-circle shelves.

"Probably a root cellar," said Voridex, hesitating.

"No doubt," replied Dommen over his shoulder.

"Open the thrice-damned door," commanded Derek.

The wooden latch came off in Dommen's hand with a wet-sounding sigh. Dropping it, he pulled out his dagger, inserted it between door and frame, and pried. The door gave the breadth of a fingernail before the dagger's tip dragged through the ancient wood. Now Dommen reinserted it in a different spot, but instead of prying hard at just that point he pried a little, moved the blade to a new spot and pried slightly again, and so on up and down the frame. Each time the door opened a tiny bit, but the multiplicity of tiny bits soon had a cumulative effect, and by the time Dommen had returned to his original spot the dagger's blade slipped easily through to the door edge up to its hilt. Dommen pried harder now, opening a gap that allowed his fingers egress, so he slipped them in and pulled harder still. The door groaned open on its hinges. Dommen stuck his torch through the opening. It was a root cellar, dug into the hillside, making a space about the same size as the outer room. The walls, ceiling and floor were crawling with long gnarled twists of branching, ghostly-white tendrils.

"Well," declared Voridex, "That was as illuminating as it was productive."

"Bide and be silent," said Derek. "What's that small bare patch in the corner yonder?" He pointed to the right-rear of the room. Indeed, there was a spot of dark earth, approximately square, approximately the length of a shortsword in width and breadth, from and over which nothing grew. Dommen advanced, careful not to catch his boots in the roots, drew his sword, and tapped into the ground with its point. From about three inches deep, the unmistakable sharp clink of metal echoed back.
« Last Edit: Mar 15th, 2013 at 2:17pm by Darwinist »  

Back to top
IP Logged
 
thetycoon
Ex Member


Re: Group Story
Reply #41 - Mar 7th, 2013 at 7:44am
Print Post  
And while Dommen started digging into the dirt with his bare hands, Derek was thinking “Something is wrong here, but I can’t put my finger on it.” And right when he was about to advise caution, Dommen jumped back with a faint cry and a look of intense surprise on his face. “My hands!” He said brandishing them up in the air for everyone to see and even in the vacillating light of the torch they appeared red and blistery as if he had just dunked them in boiling water. ”Let’s get out of this devil’s owned den! Fast!” Shouted Derek with authority.  He now realized a little late what was wrong about the whole thing. If there was no living things on that square then it meant that it was poisonous to life itself, all life!

Fortunately, Dommen wounds looked worse than they were, the skin was blistery in places but he could still move his fingers. Of course that would mean that he would be out of commission for quite some time as no one can be expected to do anything with burned hands but Derek wasn't an ingrate and would see to it that Dommen is taken care of. That is more than can be said of most of his peers in these barbaric times though and that made Lord Derek very appreciated by his subjects.

“So Dommen, asked Derek, why didn't you stop digging before your hands get this badly burned?”
Dommen was incredulous of what had just befallen him. He had never seen or even heard of something like that. “It was the strangest thing, me Lord, It was like the fire in my hands was coming from the inside, as if some devil had just willed them to burn by themselves!”

“There is something magic about this place, me Lord, maybe we’re offending some wicked spirit with our presence.”
Derek was thinking along the same lines himself but he was a good leader  and as such he knew that he should do all he could to minimize the incident or superstitious panic would soon make his men ungovernable as courageous and valuable as they were when magic was not involved.

So he said out loud and with authority, so that nobody around could miss it: “Don’t be an idiot, Dommen, you probably put your hands on that poisonous nettle that grows around here. I've heard that some of it gives burns that look very much like your own!”
“But I didn't…” Started Dommen, “Are you calling your Lord a liar?” Said DEREK angrily! “No of course not, me Lord…” Responded Dommen humbly. “Well, then shut your pie hole and you’d better not say otherwise to others, right? You've been burned by poison nettle and that’s the end of it!”
“I understand, me Lord” Said Dommen even more humble.
Now Derek was thinking: “ So, there was some truth after all in these fables that they used to tell us when we were children.”
  
Back to top
 
IP Logged
 
CubaLibre
Ex Member


Re: Group Story
Reply #42 - Mar 7th, 2013 at 8:36am
Print Post  
They made their way out to the main shack, Derek still thinking about what had happened back in the root cellar. Without realizing it, Derek stumbled over the dilapidated old chair and fell into the remains of the old table. His weight caused the rotten wood to fall apart, and the nobleman ended up on the floor in an undignified heap, surrounded by rotten wood.

His two men rushed to help him up, but he waved them away, muttering. As he got up on his knees, he saw something on the floor, where the table had been. Brushing aside some dust, he saw a rectangular trapdoor, made of simple wood, with an iron ring for a handle.

"Voridex", he said, trying to conceal the concern in his voice. "Open that door and let us see what lies beneath."

Voridex recalled what had happened to Dommen, and he drew his sword, running it through the iron ring in order to leverage the door. Upon doing so, the three of them looked at what was inside. A rather narrow stairway was revealed, running in the direction of the shack's entrance. The stairway was relatively well lit, with a torch evey two meters or so.

Before Derek could command Voridex to do so, he began descending the stairs. Derek and Dommen followed close behind. The stairway descended for quite some time, and ended in a short passage. Stepping through this passage, the three found a much longer pasageway, which Derek assumed ran parallel to the main road. To their right, about twenty meters, was a wooden door.

They made their way to this door, and Voridex noted that it was slightly ajar. Voridex gently pushed the door open, and the three looked inside. The room was adorned with pelts from various types of wild animals. In the center of the back wall was mounted a pair of antlers that must have come from the most magnificent stag to ever walk the earth.

Turning away from the trophy room, the three of them made their way in the opposite direction. They had walked about fifty meters when they saw another door, this one opening up into the wall of the passage. This one was firmly closed, however, and so they pressed on.
  
Back to top
 
IP Logged
 
Darwinist
The Writer's Croft
LNF Bunker
***
Offline

Is morbian the opposite
of lesbian?

Posts: 5,448
Location: Littleton, CO
Joined: Oct 6th, 2012
Gender: Male
Re: Group Story
Reply #43 - Mar 8th, 2013 at 12:23pm
Print Post  
Even where cut by tumbling streams or placid rivers crossed by creaky wooden bridges or made passable by shallow fords or entrepreneurial local ferrymen where a heavier flow deepened the channel, the way south was dry and dusty, with each sunrise heralding incrementally warmer temperatures. The road was flanked by occasional copses of brown-barked trees dripping gray-green moss from their branches and more frequent lumpish stands of brush from which cicadas buzzed, but mostly the foreground scenery was of flat fields of yellowing grass. Hills heat-shimmered in the distance (or perhaps they were merely mirages), with a cloudless turquoise sky above.

Shayl and Mourning Wood had earlier made road-acquaintances with a traveling cooper and his wife on their way to Kihl's Ford in an ox-drawn wain mounded with pots, pans, utensils and a selection of mostly ornamental weapons. The cooper's wife was a big jowly woman with dark hair and a brassy voice, who rode the board beside her scrawny, rheumy-eyed husband who had the hunched shoulders and anxious manner of an oft-chastized dog - making it clear who scoured the pots in that family. The cooper's wife, Jillayn by name, had apparently taken a bit of a shine to Brother Wood, and regaled him with questions about his order and his duties. "You said you serve Aes, is it?" she asked for at least the fourth time. "What's he god of again?"

Brother Wood smiled indulgently and repeated for at least the fourth time, "Aes is a god of home and hearth in the north, ma'am. It surprises me not that you here in the southern lands know naught of him. Even in the far northeast where I hail originally from, Aes is somewhat of a smallgod, though usefully propitiated as he not only wards home and hearth but is also a facilitator of homey makings. He is a god of candlemakers and loom-builders and wainwrights. The smith prays to Aes not to improve the quailty of the plow or sword he forges but to keep the forge-fire at the right temperature and to keep the anvil from cracking as he works upon it. In my homeland, coopers such as your goodman husband also pray to Aes, that their wares be sound and dependable. And crofters adjure him to keep their fences strong."
« Last Edit: Mar 9th, 2013 at 10:36pm by Darwinist »  

Back to top
IP Logged
 
CubaLibre
Ex Member


Re: Group Story (Fantasy)
Reply #44 - Mar 11th, 2013 at 8:34am
Print Post  
Jillayn turned to her husband. "How come you never thought to pray to Aes?" she asked, seeming to forget that neither she nor her husband had any knowledge of Aes until now.

"Well, you see, my love..." he stuttered as he spoke. "Thing is, I never thought to..."

"You never think. That's your problem. If you ever thought, we wouldn't be having to drag all your traps and wares through the hot desert. Oh, my poor mother, rest her soul, she must be turning over in her grave to see what I'm going through", Jillayn snapped, her voice reaching a grave tone that made her exaggerated lamentation even more humorous.

Shayl bit her lip to keep from laughing, and even the often demure Brother Wood couldn't help but crack a brief smile. "I'm sure that if your husband asks Aes to bless his wares, he will become quite prosperous", he said reassuringly.
  
Back to top
 
IP Logged
 
Darwinist
The Writer's Croft
LNF Bunker
***
Offline

Is morbian the opposite
of lesbian?

Posts: 5,448
Location: Littleton, CO
Joined: Oct 6th, 2012
Gender: Male
Re: Group Story (Fantasy)
Reply #45 - Mar 12th, 2013 at 1:33pm
Print Post  
"Ooooh, I like 'prosperous.'" smiled Jillayn, visibly wiggling her plump rump on the board. She jabbed her husband with a stiff finger. "You like 'prosperous,' don't you, Arklen? Think of it. You could support me in the style to which I've always deserved to become accustomed! Furs. Northern wines, red and sweet. ...Gold! Jewels!! Don't you want to see me as your Queen?" She kept jabbing him as she spoke.

Arklen hunched and squeaked, "Of course, my sweet bunny! I'll ask the good Brother for the proper prayers as soon as we stop, and I'll start praying to Aes this very eve."

Jillayn stop jabbing him and cast a coquettish glance at Bother Wood, though the effect was somewhat spoiled when she had to swat an intrusive fly from her lower lip."You'll do that, won't you, Brother?" she asked. "When we stop, you'll teach Arklen how to pray to Aes without offending him, won't you?"

Brother Wood declined his head with a smile of assent, "Of course. When we reach Kihl's Ford." He straightened in the saddle then, and still smiling, moved slightly away from the creaking wain. Shayl trotted up next to him, leaned in and whispered wickedly, "You'd better watch out for that one, Brother. I ken she'd have you out of that dusty robe and wriggling like a worm under those stout thighs, slapping you in the face with those big titties before you could say 'Oh! My vows!'"

"Thank you for that charming visual which will now haunt the rest of my days," Brother Wood whispered back, and then, "You know, though we sworn to Aes take no wives, neither do we vow to celibacy. The Order is practical in all things, and understands a frustrated priest lacks the proper frame of mind to commune with the deity."
« Last Edit: Mar 12th, 2013 at 4:34pm by Darwinist »  

Back to top
IP Logged
 
CubaLibre
Ex Member


Re: Group Story (Fantasy)
Reply #46 - Mar 13th, 2013 at 3:30pm
Print Post  
The cry of a falcon pierced the sky. S'Hulm looked up and signaled to one of his men, who proceeded to put on a leather sleeve and hold his arm up. The falcon swooped down and perched on his forearm.

The man removed a long, narrow scroll from the great bird's talon, and rewarded the unlikely messenger with a piece of dried smoked meat from his supply pouch. As the falcon gulped down the meat, the man handed S'Hulm the message.

WORTHY EMINENCE, YOUR NIECE AND THE OTHER MAIDENS ARE HEALTHY. THE PREGNANCIES ARE PROCEEDING AS NORMAL

"What does it say, Worthy Eminence?" asked Volvap.

"Apparently the maiden pregnancies are advancing" said S'Hulm, with a touch of bitterness. "By the stars, Volvap, I will save my niece and I will protect my throne, or I shall die trying."

Volvap simply nodded. S'Hulm turned the scroll over and, summoning his secretary, handed him the scroll, while dictating this message: "Message received. Inform me of any developments."

After the ink was dry and the scroll wrapped around the falcon's talon, the falconer quickly but gently moved his arm upward. With that, the falcon flew away, carrying this new message.
  
Back to top
 
IP Logged
 
Darwinist
The Writer's Croft
LNF Bunker
***
Offline

Is morbian the opposite
of lesbian?

Posts: 5,448
Location: Littleton, CO
Joined: Oct 6th, 2012
Gender: Male
Re: Group Story (Fantasy)
Reply #47 - Mar 15th, 2013 at 12:53pm
Print Post  
The sun was a saffron ball at their shoulders when Kihl's Ford emerged upon the southern horizon. As Brother Wood, Shayl and the traveling coopers drew nearer they could make out a palisade above which grudgingly fluttered a few pennons. A few moments later a small cloud of dust appeared on the road and grew larger, resolving itself into a half dozen riders cantering toward them.

The riders were all identically clad in black leathers and halfhelms fitted with noseguards. Four wore swords and bore curved triangular shields quartered vert and sable beneath a chief of argent upon which was superimposed a rousant rook in sable. The other two had arrows loosely set upon their bows. As they came up to the wain the frontmost raised a gauntleted hand, slowing all. The leader called from the saddle, "Well met, Arklen! With another wagonload of good copper wares, I see. What bring you for us this time, besides strangers?" The archers unnocked their shafts, and all the riders scattered into a walking escort around the wain, with the leader adjacent to the coopers. It was Jillayn who answered. "Much as always, good Halamore. Pots and griddles for your wives, clasps and fasteners for your cloaks and armor, decorative chasings and weapons." Jillayn batted her eyes and her large breasts jiggled suddenly from a rut only she felt. (Brother Wood smiled to himself, This one knows which side of the crust gets the honey.) She continued, "The strangers have been roadfriends these past two days through the northern grasslands. The mournful-looking one is Brother Wood a priest of the hearthgod Aes, and his companion the lady Shayl."

Halamore looked the two over. He observed first of Shayl, "A woman in hunter's garb bearing a half-bastard sword ... not a thing so rare as dragon's teeth in a mule's jaw, but unusual nonetheless." He turned his gaze upon the cleric. "Brother, you're a man who looks as if he's lost a best friend," he smiled. "I have heard some little of your smallgod. He'd be a good one for Arklen to pray to, I'm thinking."

Before Brother Wood could reply, Jillayn piped up, "Brother Wood has already promised to teach Arklen some prayers after we arrive in Kihl's Ford. It's too late now to even think of setting up our wares in the market, so we shall all sleep together at the inn while Shayl guards the wain in the stableyard against thieves."

Shayl, suddenly awake to the conversation, spluttered, "Just a moment now--" before Halamore cut her off saying, "Jillayn, I would be happy to put a man or two on your wain until morning. For, shall we say, a mere six percent of your gross?" Jillayn looked cross. "Robbery!" she said, "One percent ... of the net." Halamore spread his hands and put on a forlorn face. He said, "Five percent of the gross. Please. My men are not well paid and take on the rook, many of them, merely for the honor it brings their family names. But a man cannot buy needed boots with honor, nor with it water his thirsty horse." Jillayn's bosom quivered, and she huffed, "Your men have an entire river to water their horses from. One and a quarter percent of the net." The haggling went on back and forth, finally being settled at three and one-half percent of the net just before the company reached the palisade gates.
« Last Edit: Mar 15th, 2013 at 2:27pm by Darwinist »  

Back to top
IP Logged
 
CubaLibre
Ex Member


Re: Group Story (Fantasy)
Reply #48 - Mar 19th, 2013 at 8:42am
Print Post  
Upon entering the gates, the party made their way to the inn, moving through the crowd of merchants carrying their wares back from the closing market. At the inn, Halamore posted two men on the wain, as promised. "Remember our deal", he said to Jillayn.

"Oh, certainly, good Halamore", she said flatteringly. Halamore and the rest of his men retreated, and the four began to untie the horses. "No need, we'll take care of it", said one of the guards. Brother Wood nodded gratefully and they entered the inn.

Jillayn prodded her husband sharply with her finger. As if conditioned to reply, Arklen addressed Brother Wood meekly. "Good Brother, if you do not mind, the prayers..."

"Of course", he replied. "Let us sit at this table that we may not be disturbed, and I shall teach you the proper way to address Aes".
  
Back to top
 
IP Logged
 
Darwinist
The Writer's Croft
LNF Bunker
***
Offline

Is morbian the opposite
of lesbian?

Posts: 5,448
Location: Littleton, CO
Joined: Oct 6th, 2012
Gender: Male
Re: Group Story (Fantasy)
Reply #49 - Mar 19th, 2013 at 12:50pm
Print Post  
After days on the road partaking of meager fare, pease and barley porridges supplemented by roasted small game Brother Wood was able to coax to them using small magicks, the first meal shared at the inn was almost princely: spiced meat pies with crusts brown and thick, slabs of dense peasant bread slathered with butter and honey, a tray of colorful local fruits and raw vegetables, and flagons of ale and mead to wash everything down. Brother Wood picked up the tab, producing a palmful of copper coins from a purse secreted within his robe. After the meal was through, Arklen drained the dregs of his mead and excused himself to xcheck on the wain and scout the market square for a location to sell from. He weaved his way unsteadily into the night, promising to return shortly.
    Mourning Wood spun round on his bench and put his back against the edge of the table, leaning on his elbows, his flagon in his right hand, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He took a deep breath then heaved a long sigh of pure contentment. Even through his coarse-spun robe, his distended belly was obvious. "My thanks, Aes, for a meal was indeed well-met," he said, taking a pull of ale. He yawned expansively, exposing a mouthful of good white teeth.
    Brother Wood, you should cover your mouth when you yawn," scolded Jillayn, herself stifling a yawn behind her hand.
    "Oh, but why?" he asked, "When breath is the sustainer of life, surely we throw a shadow on the significance of the gift it is by impeding its inward progress."
    Shayl yawned and said, "Sleep is also a gift, and one I believe I'll unwrap now." She filched a couple pieces of uneaten fruit, finished her ale and rose. "Be well, friends." She made her way through the roomful of mostly half-drunk garrison rooks, deftly avoiding hands that stretched out to try to slap her behind or grab for her breasts, to disappear up the stairway to the second floor.
    Jillayn quaffed from her mead. She noted thoughtfully, "A unique woman, your companion. Not, some might say, a proper woman at all. How long have you been together, Brother?"
    Mourning Wood rolled his head to look at her. "Some weeks now," he said.
    "And you and she have ...?"
    He quirked an eyebrow at the blunt impertinence of the question. "No." he said. "Shayl is a boon comrade but that's all."
    Jillayn drained her flagon, put it to one side on the table and pushed her empty trencher from her.  She waved her hand in front of her mouth. "Your pardon," she said around another yawn, "I did not mean to pry. It must be the drink. Forgive me. I must away to sleep too."
    The cleric asked, "Aren't you going to wait for Arklen to return?"
    "Oh no," said Jillayn, rising and smoothing her long skirt. "He's a man grown and can find his way back home well enough. A fair evening and pleasant dreams to you, Brother. Dawn comes early and Arklen and I will have much to do before the market begins to hum."
    "Pleasant dreams, then, Jillayn, on our last day together. Shayl and I must continue on our journey on the morrow. Success with your endeavors."
    "Thank you, Brother." She departed running the same gauntlet Shayl had endured earlier, though Jillayn did not try to avoid the gropes of the garrison rooks but slapped their hands away and scattered curses.
  

Back to top
IP Logged
 
Page Index Toggle Pages: 1 ... 3 4 [5] 6 
Send TopicPrint
 
Liberty News ForumLNF Forums HereThe Writer's Croft - Creative Writing Corner › Group Story (Fantasy)

LNF Home - Political Opinion Page
LNF Forums

Christian Forum - Religion Forum - Sports Forum - Entertainment - House
Military, History - Cooking and Crafts - Creative Writing
Off the Wall News - Science Forum - Tech Gadgets - Financial News - Humor
Bunker - Page 2 - Page 3 - Page 4 - Chat Room





Drudge Report - News Max - Rush Limbaugh - FrontpageMag
Advertise on the LNF - Twitter LNF - LNF Archive - LNF News
LNF Blog
News and Political Links
Political Blogs
Add your website or blog
Political Columnists
Political Humor
A1 News Page
David Limbaugh
Political Frog
Conservatives Directory
President Trump Approval Poll
Presidential Party Election Poll News forum posting, privacy policy and member rules