Vidmer
08-21-2001, 02:32 PM
After days of being chased here I was trapped in the hell hole known as the plains of karana. Damn her eyes for letting such a place exist. On some non-descript mound of dirt in the middle of a non-descript mound of dirt where even the lowest forms of life conspire to make your life misserable, I am going to die. The layers of dried blood and gore on my mace add to it's burdensome weight, I can barely raise it anymore. The mercenaries calling themselves paladins surround me. They are the whores of the world, selling themselves blindly to an ideology on the hope of a happy afterlife. These paladins fight stupidly but I can only crush so many skulls in a day. Rodcet Nife be damned for not teaching these neophytes how to properly wield a blade. Dying to this gaggle of glorified farm hands will be embarasing.
I unsling the dead peck from my shoulder to free up my shield arm. Sad that only the feeble halfling has an ounce of decency in this world. Poor little fella defended me against their baseless accusitions. Trying to blame me for the syphalis outbreak amongst their acolytes. They must find an easy scapegoat rather then face the corruption within and a champion of Bertoxxulous just happened to be in town.
Why I returned to Qeynos mystifies even myself. Rumors of a rift opening to the plane of disease had caught my ear some moons ago, but i felt my investigation was incomplete. I returned to the sewers and trudged through the crawling muck in search of a way to a world that would accept me and my view on the circle of life. Tunare and the accursed Karana claim to represent nature, but it is the power of disease that cleans the feeble from the flock making room for a better replacement. If those two had their way the world would be overun with cripples, feebleminded, and dwarves.
But the peck stood by me. Proved I had just recently arrived in town and the only disease spreading opportunity I had was to give a good and proper noble lady what she gave to her serfs, a good fucking. The rot will take her in a few months and with no heirs the serfs can take land they toil. But no one knew of the rot part so I should have been a free man.
The paladins however demanded "justice". They threw every century old statute against me, and when the peck batted em all aside they pounced on me like a starved pack of wolves. So much for law and order when it interferes with your wants. And they always labeled me the bad guy.
I filled the air with disease clouds and sucked the life essance out of them. I saved my best trick for the prosecutor himself, his heart will never beat correctly again, making him think hes about to die for the rest of his long natural life. Some times you have to leave the weak as a reminder to the rest.
We tried to hide in the sewers but after only a day we had to leave lest the increased searching reveal the shrines location and bring death to my brothers and sisters. We escaped into the hills by night and made plans to go somewhere less autocratic such as the over there or skyshrine, but the very next day we found the plains of karana crawling with paladins.
With nowhere to run I began picking off lone sentries hoping to open up a hole long enough esape. I couldn't just slip into the shadows and leave the peck to die, unlike some I have honor. So we spent a day whittling down lone paladins. My trusty sword, the treasure of Zlandicar, snapped in two on the helm of a plated knight. I turned back to my heavy, but always dependable mace. I can not describe the joy I experience when the helm of a paladin caves in and blood and gore streams forth from his face visor. The stream is entirely too erotic.
But here I am two days later and 2 paladins to take the place of everyone I smite. They call it zeal, I call it stupidity. I hope Rodcet Nife feels guilty for all this waste of life. I made a promise to the peck I would die trying to return his body to Rivervale as he lay mortally wounded. A paladin sword deep in his belly, which is quite deep you must understand. He would lie eternally next to his family, or next to me if Bertoxxulous deems it necessary.
They draw near with the murderous glint only a church'es propiganda can create. I raise my shield and dig deep for internal power, but I am spent. I will die alone, where is Vinilaa, where is Shindar, where is Garv? Avenge me my brothers and sisters.
I unsling the dead peck from my shoulder to free up my shield arm. Sad that only the feeble halfling has an ounce of decency in this world. Poor little fella defended me against their baseless accusitions. Trying to blame me for the syphalis outbreak amongst their acolytes. They must find an easy scapegoat rather then face the corruption within and a champion of Bertoxxulous just happened to be in town.
Why I returned to Qeynos mystifies even myself. Rumors of a rift opening to the plane of disease had caught my ear some moons ago, but i felt my investigation was incomplete. I returned to the sewers and trudged through the crawling muck in search of a way to a world that would accept me and my view on the circle of life. Tunare and the accursed Karana claim to represent nature, but it is the power of disease that cleans the feeble from the flock making room for a better replacement. If those two had their way the world would be overun with cripples, feebleminded, and dwarves.
But the peck stood by me. Proved I had just recently arrived in town and the only disease spreading opportunity I had was to give a good and proper noble lady what she gave to her serfs, a good fucking. The rot will take her in a few months and with no heirs the serfs can take land they toil. But no one knew of the rot part so I should have been a free man.
The paladins however demanded "justice". They threw every century old statute against me, and when the peck batted em all aside they pounced on me like a starved pack of wolves. So much for law and order when it interferes with your wants. And they always labeled me the bad guy.
I filled the air with disease clouds and sucked the life essance out of them. I saved my best trick for the prosecutor himself, his heart will never beat correctly again, making him think hes about to die for the rest of his long natural life. Some times you have to leave the weak as a reminder to the rest.
We tried to hide in the sewers but after only a day we had to leave lest the increased searching reveal the shrines location and bring death to my brothers and sisters. We escaped into the hills by night and made plans to go somewhere less autocratic such as the over there or skyshrine, but the very next day we found the plains of karana crawling with paladins.
With nowhere to run I began picking off lone sentries hoping to open up a hole long enough esape. I couldn't just slip into the shadows and leave the peck to die, unlike some I have honor. So we spent a day whittling down lone paladins. My trusty sword, the treasure of Zlandicar, snapped in two on the helm of a plated knight. I turned back to my heavy, but always dependable mace. I can not describe the joy I experience when the helm of a paladin caves in and blood and gore streams forth from his face visor. The stream is entirely too erotic.
But here I am two days later and 2 paladins to take the place of everyone I smite. They call it zeal, I call it stupidity. I hope Rodcet Nife feels guilty for all this waste of life. I made a promise to the peck I would die trying to return his body to Rivervale as he lay mortally wounded. A paladin sword deep in his belly, which is quite deep you must understand. He would lie eternally next to his family, or next to me if Bertoxxulous deems it necessary.
They draw near with the murderous glint only a church'es propiganda can create. I raise my shield and dig deep for internal power, but I am spent. I will die alone, where is Vinilaa, where is Shindar, where is Garv? Avenge me my brothers and sisters.