*Artwork by Edwo
...
*Artwork by Robert0
Mouth
Re: Mouth
Dreamer
...
He slept in a mass huddle of fleas, flesh, and fur.
He dreamt of excitement and danger. Of a life where he didn't spend all day trying to spear fish in the bog.
He woke, hard. There was something or someone pressed up against his crotch. He humped at it until it swatted at him and shifted away, then he finished the job himself.
He tried to recapture the sweet dream afterwards. But by then, it was too late.
...
Suudr (mouth) fishes by the rivers edge
Artwork by Edwo
...
He slept in a mass huddle of fleas, flesh, and fur.
He dreamt of excitement and danger. Of a life where he didn't spend all day trying to spear fish in the bog.
He woke, hard. There was something or someone pressed up against his crotch. He humped at it until it swatted at him and shifted away, then he finished the job himself.
He tried to recapture the sweet dream afterwards. But by then, it was too late.
...
Suudr (mouth) fishes by the rivers edge
Artwork by Edwo
Last edited by Rumple C on Fri Jan 03, 2014 2:38 pm, edited 3 times in total.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
Re: Mouth
Familial cycle
...
Excerpt from "The Goblin"
In a hole along the riverbank there lived a goblin (and many more besides). A nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, not a dry, bare, sandy hole: it was a goblin-hole, and that means filth.
...
Suudr (our hero) was fishing again. Every day the same, waiting for the incautious fish to swim underneath him then stabbing down with the spear. Across on the other side of the river was another goblin, Kofi, who was doing the same. They chose that exact moment to look up at each other. They both glowered thinking dark thoughts.
Suudr hated that guy.
There had been some recent unpleasantness when Kofi had woken up to Suudr sleep humping his leg. Rather than let him finish, Kofi had swatted at him, and moved his leg away. Suudr was not one to let insults like that pass. He grumbled to himself and stabbed own angrily at the water, imagining it was Kofi. On his side of the river bank Kofi was doing the same, thinking of killing Suudr and taking his nice fishing spear.
This was the life of a river goblin along the Chointhar.
...
Suudr came from a long line of low cunning. At least that was the presumption, goblin parentage was always thought to be an imprecise science (if one thought of it at all). That low cunning extended all the way back to his father, who (being a learned goblin), had created a source of wealth for the tribe (only by accident, he was mostly trying to enrich himself). In the Cloakwood hills, he had erected a wooden sign (a scavenged shield), and painstakingly carved in letters of the trade tongue - "Treeezure down en tha hole" (or words to that effect), with a carved arrow pointing down some slippery rocks. Every now and then foolish locals would try to climb down in search of the treasure, and often slip (or have their ropes cut), breaking their legs or worse. Every few days goblins would creepily come and look for suffering climbers or climbers who suffered no more. In this way was (tenderized) meat and shinies and (sweet sweet) loots brought into the tribe.
Today Suudr was up early, he planned to check on the meat trap by his fathers sign. It was a beautiful morning. The sky was clear of clouds, and blue gray wintery with the promise of spring around the corner. A little dew on the grass, and a gentle breeze. It was going to be a good day, Suudr could feel it in his yellow heart. Gaining the edge of the cliff, he looked over for bodies.
Absorbed as he was with his peering, he did not hear Kofi sneaking up behind him.
There was a savage push, and Suudr was suddenly turning cartwheels in the air. His world spun over and around as he fell. He briefly noted Kofi standing on the cliff above him.
Suudr hated that guy.
...
Kofi the Goblin, laughs (on the inside) from the cliff-top
Artist Unknown
...
Excerpt from "The Goblin"
In a hole along the riverbank there lived a goblin (and many more besides). A nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, not a dry, bare, sandy hole: it was a goblin-hole, and that means filth.
...
Suudr (our hero) was fishing again. Every day the same, waiting for the incautious fish to swim underneath him then stabbing down with the spear. Across on the other side of the river was another goblin, Kofi, who was doing the same. They chose that exact moment to look up at each other. They both glowered thinking dark thoughts.
Suudr hated that guy.
There had been some recent unpleasantness when Kofi had woken up to Suudr sleep humping his leg. Rather than let him finish, Kofi had swatted at him, and moved his leg away. Suudr was not one to let insults like that pass. He grumbled to himself and stabbed own angrily at the water, imagining it was Kofi. On his side of the river bank Kofi was doing the same, thinking of killing Suudr and taking his nice fishing spear.
This was the life of a river goblin along the Chointhar.
...
Suudr came from a long line of low cunning. At least that was the presumption, goblin parentage was always thought to be an imprecise science (if one thought of it at all). That low cunning extended all the way back to his father, who (being a learned goblin), had created a source of wealth for the tribe (only by accident, he was mostly trying to enrich himself). In the Cloakwood hills, he had erected a wooden sign (a scavenged shield), and painstakingly carved in letters of the trade tongue - "Treeezure down en tha hole" (or words to that effect), with a carved arrow pointing down some slippery rocks. Every now and then foolish locals would try to climb down in search of the treasure, and often slip (or have their ropes cut), breaking their legs or worse. Every few days goblins would creepily come and look for suffering climbers or climbers who suffered no more. In this way was (tenderized) meat and shinies and (sweet sweet) loots brought into the tribe.
Today Suudr was up early, he planned to check on the meat trap by his fathers sign. It was a beautiful morning. The sky was clear of clouds, and blue gray wintery with the promise of spring around the corner. A little dew on the grass, and a gentle breeze. It was going to be a good day, Suudr could feel it in his yellow heart. Gaining the edge of the cliff, he looked over for bodies.
Absorbed as he was with his peering, he did not hear Kofi sneaking up behind him.
There was a savage push, and Suudr was suddenly turning cartwheels in the air. His world spun over and around as he fell. He briefly noted Kofi standing on the cliff above him.
Suudr hated that guy.
...
Kofi the Goblin, laughs (on the inside) from the cliff-top
Artist Unknown
Last edited by Rumple C on Fri Jan 03, 2014 6:58 am, edited 1 time in total.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
-
Ithildur
- Dungeon Master
- Posts: 3548
- Joined: Wed Oct 06, 2004 7:46 am
- Location: Best pizza town in the universe
- Contact:
Re: Mouth
Clearly this charming work of genius needs to be made into a movie. No, a trilogy of movies, to maximize chances of enrichment.
Formerly: Aglaril Shaelara, Faerun's unlikeliest Bladesinger
Current main: Ky - something
It’s not the critic who counts...The credit belongs to the man who actually is in the arena, who strives violently, who errs and comes up short again and again...who if he wins, knows the triumph of high achievement, but who if he fails, fails while daring greatly.-T. Roosevelt
Current main: Ky - something
It’s not the critic who counts...The credit belongs to the man who actually is in the arena, who strives violently, who errs and comes up short again and again...who if he wins, knows the triumph of high achievement, but who if he fails, fails while daring greatly.-T. Roosevelt
Re: Mouth
Caught in the current
...
Fear no goblin mischief,
Heed no demon bark;
Wrap the night about you tight—
Do not fear the dark.
- Felix Dennis
...
His horrifyingly falling world ended in a terrifying splash next to the waterfall. Suudr did not celebrate his non-death on the sharp rocks nearby, for now he was about to drown. The waterfalls weight pressed down on him, spinning him around and around in a uncontrollable and inescapable watery maelstrom. He would have sucked in a killing breath of water, if he wasn't excruciatingly winded by the unplanned belly flop. The rushing water was full of bubbles, and white water, and... rainbows?
He was pushed through a rainbow, and suddenly spat out with a painful drop onto something hard and cold and dark.
Great goblin gods, what the hells had happened? Was this the after-life? It was not as advertised. He had been a model goblin, and was certainly looking forward to the promised afterlife of rough sex and tender flesh eating. He lay flat while his wits and body recovered from the ordeal. He was...underground. Water streamed out from... nowhere above him. Magic?
Nothing for it, he took a drink of the water (bitingly cold), and wrung out his furry leggings. Redressing himself he crept along the stone corridor. He had never been in a place like this, but heard of them before. Caves that other races made. Worked stone. Seemed like a lot of work for no good use as far as he could tell. Plenty of caves already if you knew where to look. And what was that?... one of those...”doors”.
He studied it suspiciously. No good ever came from building doors.
He pulled on its metal handle, and it opened with a ominous groan. Or rather, the shadowy figure on the other side, ominously groaned. Suudr groaned as well, but his was one of fear and horror.
This was not a happy place.
He ran at random, hopping puddles and bouncing off walls as he took corners. The shadow was very close behind him, reaching out with its shadowy arms. Up ahead was another rainbow-y plane of light. He ran for it, pleading with the goblin gods for it to lead back outside, preferably to right next to Kofi, so he could stab him in the face for all that had happened to him.
He ran into a solid wall of fear, and crumpled into a huddle. His eyes closed involuntarily and suddenly he was staggering forward again through where he imagined the rainbow was. A spectrum of colors swirled underneath his eye-lids, and he fell again.
He cracked an eye-lid. His night-vision lit up another empty room, still underground. What was this place? He longed to wake up with someone’s leg firmly against his crotch. He waited expectantly for this to happen, now that he realized it was all just a horrible dream. When it did not happen, he cursed the foulest goblin curse he knew and crept forward, opening another door, fearful of another shadow. This door did not groan, nor squeal. It was largely silent, as was the gloved hand which reached for him, snaring him by his arm, and tossing him in among more of its dark skinned kind who clasped him in manacles. These were not shadowy figures, which was something at least. They were near as tall as humans, but skinnier with pointed ears, dark skin, and white hair.
They smelt of cruelty and deliciousness.
...
One of Suudr's captors
*Artwork by Flamencofrog
...
Fear no goblin mischief,
Heed no demon bark;
Wrap the night about you tight—
Do not fear the dark.
- Felix Dennis
...
His horrifyingly falling world ended in a terrifying splash next to the waterfall. Suudr did not celebrate his non-death on the sharp rocks nearby, for now he was about to drown. The waterfalls weight pressed down on him, spinning him around and around in a uncontrollable and inescapable watery maelstrom. He would have sucked in a killing breath of water, if he wasn't excruciatingly winded by the unplanned belly flop. The rushing water was full of bubbles, and white water, and... rainbows?
He was pushed through a rainbow, and suddenly spat out with a painful drop onto something hard and cold and dark.
Great goblin gods, what the hells had happened? Was this the after-life? It was not as advertised. He had been a model goblin, and was certainly looking forward to the promised afterlife of rough sex and tender flesh eating. He lay flat while his wits and body recovered from the ordeal. He was...underground. Water streamed out from... nowhere above him. Magic?
Nothing for it, he took a drink of the water (bitingly cold), and wrung out his furry leggings. Redressing himself he crept along the stone corridor. He had never been in a place like this, but heard of them before. Caves that other races made. Worked stone. Seemed like a lot of work for no good use as far as he could tell. Plenty of caves already if you knew where to look. And what was that?... one of those...”doors”.
He studied it suspiciously. No good ever came from building doors.
He pulled on its metal handle, and it opened with a ominous groan. Or rather, the shadowy figure on the other side, ominously groaned. Suudr groaned as well, but his was one of fear and horror.
This was not a happy place.
He ran at random, hopping puddles and bouncing off walls as he took corners. The shadow was very close behind him, reaching out with its shadowy arms. Up ahead was another rainbow-y plane of light. He ran for it, pleading with the goblin gods for it to lead back outside, preferably to right next to Kofi, so he could stab him in the face for all that had happened to him.
He ran into a solid wall of fear, and crumpled into a huddle. His eyes closed involuntarily and suddenly he was staggering forward again through where he imagined the rainbow was. A spectrum of colors swirled underneath his eye-lids, and he fell again.
He cracked an eye-lid. His night-vision lit up another empty room, still underground. What was this place? He longed to wake up with someone’s leg firmly against his crotch. He waited expectantly for this to happen, now that he realized it was all just a horrible dream. When it did not happen, he cursed the foulest goblin curse he knew and crept forward, opening another door, fearful of another shadow. This door did not groan, nor squeal. It was largely silent, as was the gloved hand which reached for him, snaring him by his arm, and tossing him in among more of its dark skinned kind who clasped him in manacles. These were not shadowy figures, which was something at least. They were near as tall as humans, but skinnier with pointed ears, dark skin, and white hair.
They smelt of cruelty and deliciousness.
...
One of Suudr's captors
*Artwork by Flamencofrog
12.August.2015: Never forget.
-
Brokenbone
- Chosen of Forumamus, God of Forums
- Posts: 5771
- Joined: Mon May 16, 2005 1:07 am
- Location: London, Ontario, Canada
Re: Mouth
Hey I know those portals, glad the little guy got the key right during undead escape.
This guy isn't just another set of ears to farm, good tale.
This guy isn't just another set of ears to farm, good tale.
ALFA NWN2 PCs: Rhaggot of the Bruised-Eye, and Bamshogbo
ALFA NWN1 PC: Jacobim Foxmantle
ALFA NWN1 Dead PC: Jon Shieldjack
DMA Staff
ALFA NWN1 PC: Jacobim Foxmantle
ALFA NWN1 Dead PC: Jon Shieldjack
DMA Staff
Re: Mouth
Cha cha changes.
...
“Life belongs to the living, and he who lives must be prepared for changes”
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
...
Suudr did not remember being hit in the head, but he was sure it must have happened, for his head hurt like a bog water bender. And there was something wrong with his eyes as well. When he looked around the dark cavern, things no longer lit up with heat, letting him see in shades of hot red and cool blue. Instead all he could see was a ring of smoothly rising and dimly glowing bars around him. Red light.
Beyond that stood a tall figure, with a little winged one that flapped about him as he read from a giant book. And then beyond them, another ring of bars with an angry looking goblin. He wasn’t the only one to get caught then.
Suudr tried to squeeze his way out of the glowing bars. They did not bend or yield, and the flappy thing called him a “Berk” and flapped over to kick him in the head. The goblin on the far side of the room started making threats in a very well spoken and very uncharacteristically non-goblin-y voice. At this point the large figure spoke of removing their –G word he did not understand- if they did not co-operate.
He gripped the bar with is fleshy pink hands and leant his head against them in despair. His hurt still hurt.
Fleshy pink hands?
He re-looked in horror.
No no no no.
He was all fleshy and pink and weak and horrible and ugly, and his eyes didn’t work properly. Oh, great goblin gods, even his male pride had been replaced by this sad little worm.
And apparently that was –his- body over there in the other cage, having been stolen by the owner of this one.
Body envy.
Suudr was a reasonable goblin. He could understand why that Halfling would want to swap bodies. But he could not allow such a thing. Then the flappy thing made the situation clear. They were part of some great hunt, and had to find each other. Then kill the other. Then would they get their body back. Finally. Suudr had a way out of this.
There were many language and interpretation issues going on here, but Suudr made it clear to the Halfling/Goblin... body thief. He pointed at him, and drew a finger across his neck, followed by making stabbing motions. The body thief retorted with compliments about his mother saying he would like to rape her, which confused Suudr. Obviously his mother was a handsome woman, and had been goblin raped many times. This body thief was a terrible insulter.
Suudr was kicked in his Halfling meat sack by the flappy thing. Oh gods, the agony, it was like being sick and being clubbed all in the same place. He was then helplessly collared and roped by the flappy thing, and led through dark corridors by a rope, to another portal, where he was allowed to flee. It spat him out in a forest he thought he knew, and following vague flappy thing directions, he found a branch and floated down the river and away from all the sharp teeth longing for his pallid pink parts. Along the way he climbed down a cliff, escaped a bear via potion, and narrowly avoided another goblin who was stealing chickens from a barn.
Suudr considered killing him for his chickens. He was hungry after all. In the end he decided that this pallid pink fleshed body was probably useless for strangling things (such stubby fingers), and he didn’t feel very brave without being in the normal goblin mob with odds of five to one.
So instead he chose to sneak into the barn where the goblin had exited and steal chickens of his own.
That night was the saddest night of his life, as he tried to eat a raw chicken with not pointed teeth (stupid Halfling teeth), sleep in a tree (he fell out with his stupid Halfling stumpy legs), and not freeze to death (being completely naked and stupidly Halfling).
He had at least resolved to do one thing that night. Find himself. Then kill himself. The other guy (the body thief).
...
The flappy-thing pulls back a "foot" ready to deliver a debilitating and humiliating kick
Artist Unkown
...
“Life belongs to the living, and he who lives must be prepared for changes”
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
...
Suudr did not remember being hit in the head, but he was sure it must have happened, for his head hurt like a bog water bender. And there was something wrong with his eyes as well. When he looked around the dark cavern, things no longer lit up with heat, letting him see in shades of hot red and cool blue. Instead all he could see was a ring of smoothly rising and dimly glowing bars around him. Red light.
Beyond that stood a tall figure, with a little winged one that flapped about him as he read from a giant book. And then beyond them, another ring of bars with an angry looking goblin. He wasn’t the only one to get caught then.
Suudr tried to squeeze his way out of the glowing bars. They did not bend or yield, and the flappy thing called him a “Berk” and flapped over to kick him in the head. The goblin on the far side of the room started making threats in a very well spoken and very uncharacteristically non-goblin-y voice. At this point the large figure spoke of removing their –G word he did not understand- if they did not co-operate.
He gripped the bar with is fleshy pink hands and leant his head against them in despair. His hurt still hurt.
Fleshy pink hands?
He re-looked in horror.
No no no no.
He was all fleshy and pink and weak and horrible and ugly, and his eyes didn’t work properly. Oh, great goblin gods, even his male pride had been replaced by this sad little worm.
And apparently that was –his- body over there in the other cage, having been stolen by the owner of this one.
Body envy.
Suudr was a reasonable goblin. He could understand why that Halfling would want to swap bodies. But he could not allow such a thing. Then the flappy thing made the situation clear. They were part of some great hunt, and had to find each other. Then kill the other. Then would they get their body back. Finally. Suudr had a way out of this.
There were many language and interpretation issues going on here, but Suudr made it clear to the Halfling/Goblin... body thief. He pointed at him, and drew a finger across his neck, followed by making stabbing motions. The body thief retorted with compliments about his mother saying he would like to rape her, which confused Suudr. Obviously his mother was a handsome woman, and had been goblin raped many times. This body thief was a terrible insulter.
Suudr was kicked in his Halfling meat sack by the flappy thing. Oh gods, the agony, it was like being sick and being clubbed all in the same place. He was then helplessly collared and roped by the flappy thing, and led through dark corridors by a rope, to another portal, where he was allowed to flee. It spat him out in a forest he thought he knew, and following vague flappy thing directions, he found a branch and floated down the river and away from all the sharp teeth longing for his pallid pink parts. Along the way he climbed down a cliff, escaped a bear via potion, and narrowly avoided another goblin who was stealing chickens from a barn.
Suudr considered killing him for his chickens. He was hungry after all. In the end he decided that this pallid pink fleshed body was probably useless for strangling things (such stubby fingers), and he didn’t feel very brave without being in the normal goblin mob with odds of five to one.
So instead he chose to sneak into the barn where the goblin had exited and steal chickens of his own.
That night was the saddest night of his life, as he tried to eat a raw chicken with not pointed teeth (stupid Halfling teeth), sleep in a tree (he fell out with his stupid Halfling stumpy legs), and not freeze to death (being completely naked and stupidly Halfling).
He had at least resolved to do one thing that night. Find himself. Then kill himself. The other guy (the body thief).
...
The flappy-thing pulls back a "foot" ready to deliver a debilitating and humiliating kick
Artist Unkown
12.August.2015: Never forget.
-
Ithildur
- Dungeon Master
- Posts: 3548
- Joined: Wed Oct 06, 2004 7:46 am
- Location: Best pizza town in the universe
- Contact:
Re: Mouth
Full of win!
Formerly: Aglaril Shaelara, Faerun's unlikeliest Bladesinger
Current main: Ky - something
It’s not the critic who counts...The credit belongs to the man who actually is in the arena, who strives violently, who errs and comes up short again and again...who if he wins, knows the triumph of high achievement, but who if he fails, fails while daring greatly.-T. Roosevelt
Current main: Ky - something
It’s not the critic who counts...The credit belongs to the man who actually is in the arena, who strives violently, who errs and comes up short again and again...who if he wins, knows the triumph of high achievement, but who if he fails, fails while daring greatly.-T. Roosevelt
Re: Mouth
Year of the Starving
...
Name: Baldur's Gate
Region: Sword Coast
Population: 42,104
Humans 73%
Dwarves 10%
Half-orcs 5%
Elves 4%
Halflings 4%
Gnomes 2%
Half-elves 1%
Other 1% (includes Suudr)
...
Suuder was comfortably slouched inside an upturned, and rather broken shipping crate. From his box he watched the people walk back and forth along the city streets. He was a very wealthy ex-goblin now. He had his own box, with shards of broken mirror (for cutting things that got to close), a dog (no worgs to be found in this city apparently), a brightly colored hat which he had pulled out of the habour and twelve poorly preserved cat carcasses. A shame he couldn't show it off to his former tribe. Especially that mucky arse-hole Kofi. He hated that guy.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been living on the streets of “Baldurs Gate” now, long enough to see a winter come and go, and long enough to prosper. People usually gave the usually naked wild dirty looking little Halfling a wide berth. When anyone came to close to his box, he would just hiss and throw handfuls of crap at them, or pinch his dog until it barked. Even the other street people gave him a wide berth. Good. He didn’t want to know them. He could understand a little of what they said, but chose not to try and talk back.
This tongue did not want to work properly.
Suudr pulled at it with dirty fingers, trying to stretch it out to a proper length so it would work as Maglubiyet intended. Indeed, this Halfling body was (as the locals say) “bullshit”. The teeth were awful blunt, the fingers too short, its eyes and nose didn’t work properly, and its guts rejected raw meat.
He sighed and gently tapped at a hanging cat, sending a cloud of flies to settle on the other carcasses and considered where to hang his dog. He had (inadvertently) traded his soul and self for a life of riches and luxury. They no longer brought him pleasure, and he had no one to share it with.
He had long since given up hope of finding his body thief, perhaps instead it was time to find a new tribe. He looked eastwards out his box along the alley way (Scuds run). He decided then and there he would leave in the morning, to start afresh. He hugged his dog (“Maglubiyet”), and whispered instructions in its ear in Goblinese.
And then cried un-goblinlike tears over all that had happened.
...
Maglubiyet (left) and Suudr (right) share a tender moment
*Artwork by Robert0
...
Name: Baldur's Gate
Region: Sword Coast
Population: 42,104
Humans 73%
Dwarves 10%
Half-orcs 5%
Elves 4%
Halflings 4%
Gnomes 2%
Half-elves 1%
Other 1% (includes Suudr)
...
Suuder was comfortably slouched inside an upturned, and rather broken shipping crate. From his box he watched the people walk back and forth along the city streets. He was a very wealthy ex-goblin now. He had his own box, with shards of broken mirror (for cutting things that got to close), a dog (no worgs to be found in this city apparently), a brightly colored hat which he had pulled out of the habour and twelve poorly preserved cat carcasses. A shame he couldn't show it off to his former tribe. Especially that mucky arse-hole Kofi. He hated that guy.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been living on the streets of “Baldurs Gate” now, long enough to see a winter come and go, and long enough to prosper. People usually gave the usually naked wild dirty looking little Halfling a wide berth. When anyone came to close to his box, he would just hiss and throw handfuls of crap at them, or pinch his dog until it barked. Even the other street people gave him a wide berth. Good. He didn’t want to know them. He could understand a little of what they said, but chose not to try and talk back.
This tongue did not want to work properly.
Suudr pulled at it with dirty fingers, trying to stretch it out to a proper length so it would work as Maglubiyet intended. Indeed, this Halfling body was (as the locals say) “bullshit”. The teeth were awful blunt, the fingers too short, its eyes and nose didn’t work properly, and its guts rejected raw meat.
He sighed and gently tapped at a hanging cat, sending a cloud of flies to settle on the other carcasses and considered where to hang his dog. He had (inadvertently) traded his soul and self for a life of riches and luxury. They no longer brought him pleasure, and he had no one to share it with.
He had long since given up hope of finding his body thief, perhaps instead it was time to find a new tribe. He looked eastwards out his box along the alley way (Scuds run). He decided then and there he would leave in the morning, to start afresh. He hugged his dog (“Maglubiyet”), and whispered instructions in its ear in Goblinese.
And then cried un-goblinlike tears over all that had happened.
...
Maglubiyet (left) and Suudr (right) share a tender moment
*Artwork by Robert0
12.August.2015: Never forget.
-
orangetree
- Dungeon Master
- Posts: 897
- Joined: Thu Jun 03, 2004 9:10 pm
- Location: UK (GMT)
Re: Mouth
This is so awesome... love the concept.
-
Mikayla
- Valsharess of ALFA
- Posts: 3707
- Joined: Sat Jan 03, 2004 5:37 pm
- Location: Qu'ellar Faen Tlabbar, Noble Room 7, Menzoberranzan, NorthUnderdark
Re: Mouth
Rumple and I have a formed a mutual admiration society to give each other praise for our Library stories. Natually, I get the better end of this deal because Rumple's story here actually DESERVES praise - this is funniest and most twisted stuff I've read in a long time.
M.
M.
ALFA1-NWN1: Sheyreiza Valakahsa
NWN2: Layla (aka Aliyah, Amira, Snake and others) and Vellya
NWN1-WD: Shein'n Valakasha
NWN2: Layla (aka Aliyah, Amira, Snake and others) and Vellya
NWN1-WD: Shein'n Valakasha
Re: Mouth
I take all of the credit.Mikayla wrote:Rumple and I have a formed a mutual admiration society to give each other praise for our Library stories. Natually, I get the better end of this deal because Rumple's story here actually DESERVES praise - this is funniest and most twisted stuff I've read in a long time.
Re: Mouth
Making new friends
...
“I miss your fragrance, sometimes I miss it this much that I can clearly smell you in the air.”
- Qaisar Iqbal Janjua
...
Suudr shifted his toes back and forth through the fine skin on the floor. It was furry and lush and an inch thick, cut perfectly straight, and a bizarre red and orange color like some of his hanging cats from Baldur’s Gate. What great beast could this have come from? This was wealth indeed.
He began to fantasize about dragging it back to the Chointhar and dumping it at the feet of his tribe who would welcome him back with their grovels and foot licking, awed of this superior skin. He would kick a few to death to show them he was a true leader, but ultimately he would spare the rest provided they brought him tribute. Like one of those fish he used to catch and now missed so much. Why, he might even spare Kofi, he was feeling so magnanimous. No. Spear. He would spear Kofi. Right in his handsome face.
He hated that guy.
His stomach rumbled, bringing him back to the present. The only thing he had eaten in the last two days was a sparrow egg, when he found a nest in one of the burnt out buildings of Soubar. Nice town, he liked the place. There were slaves to point and laugh at, burnt out buildings to try to re-burn (stupid rain), and all manner of interesting looking folk passing through. Why, he was standing in a crowd of them now, wiggling his toes in the lush fur, though they seemed more interested in what the man in the red dress was saying. It seemed to be some sort of ritual.
Which was over. Now they were painting their mark on the mans paper. The others were using a feather to trace out small scratching. Suudr simply dipped his finger in the black water, then dotted it randomly over the page, before adding a few to his face for good measure.
He walked outside with the rest of them, wondering at what was happening. Perhaps he should have paid more attention.
He was surrounded by racial enemies. He checked his face to make sure it was still on. Luckily it was. It would not do for the dwarf and gnome here to learn that his race was the superior one. They would probably attack him in a fit of rabid jealousy. There was also a dark skinned captor here, and fire-headed woman, both of which wanted to kill him, he was sure of it. Luckily there was also two golden skinned humans, who smelt very delicious indeed and seemed to have taken a liking to him, perhaps mistaking him for their cousin.
They walked as a tribe, north and west towards a “castle”, in search of an “elf” in return for a “reward”. Suudr looked over his shoulder frequently at the others, fearing a knife in the back. He made alternate plans to poison their meal, eating them, strangle them in their sleep, take their shiny things, and/or lead wild animals into their camp. He was feeling equal parts of fear, hunger, hatred, and murderous envy towards the others.
In short, between planning treacherous murder and fearing for his life, he was almost happy, for he was beginning to feel the warm glow of family again.
...
The untrustworthy group sets out towards their destination
Arist unknown
...
“I miss your fragrance, sometimes I miss it this much that I can clearly smell you in the air.”
- Qaisar Iqbal Janjua
...
Suudr shifted his toes back and forth through the fine skin on the floor. It was furry and lush and an inch thick, cut perfectly straight, and a bizarre red and orange color like some of his hanging cats from Baldur’s Gate. What great beast could this have come from? This was wealth indeed.
He began to fantasize about dragging it back to the Chointhar and dumping it at the feet of his tribe who would welcome him back with their grovels and foot licking, awed of this superior skin. He would kick a few to death to show them he was a true leader, but ultimately he would spare the rest provided they brought him tribute. Like one of those fish he used to catch and now missed so much. Why, he might even spare Kofi, he was feeling so magnanimous. No. Spear. He would spear Kofi. Right in his handsome face.
He hated that guy.
His stomach rumbled, bringing him back to the present. The only thing he had eaten in the last two days was a sparrow egg, when he found a nest in one of the burnt out buildings of Soubar. Nice town, he liked the place. There were slaves to point and laugh at, burnt out buildings to try to re-burn (stupid rain), and all manner of interesting looking folk passing through. Why, he was standing in a crowd of them now, wiggling his toes in the lush fur, though they seemed more interested in what the man in the red dress was saying. It seemed to be some sort of ritual.
Which was over. Now they were painting their mark on the mans paper. The others were using a feather to trace out small scratching. Suudr simply dipped his finger in the black water, then dotted it randomly over the page, before adding a few to his face for good measure.
He walked outside with the rest of them, wondering at what was happening. Perhaps he should have paid more attention.
He was surrounded by racial enemies. He checked his face to make sure it was still on. Luckily it was. It would not do for the dwarf and gnome here to learn that his race was the superior one. They would probably attack him in a fit of rabid jealousy. There was also a dark skinned captor here, and fire-headed woman, both of which wanted to kill him, he was sure of it. Luckily there was also two golden skinned humans, who smelt very delicious indeed and seemed to have taken a liking to him, perhaps mistaking him for their cousin.
They walked as a tribe, north and west towards a “castle”, in search of an “elf” in return for a “reward”. Suudr looked over his shoulder frequently at the others, fearing a knife in the back. He made alternate plans to poison their meal, eating them, strangle them in their sleep, take their shiny things, and/or lead wild animals into their camp. He was feeling equal parts of fear, hunger, hatred, and murderous envy towards the others.
In short, between planning treacherous murder and fearing for his life, he was almost happy, for he was beginning to feel the warm glow of family again.
...
The untrustworthy group sets out towards their destination
Arist unknown
12.August.2015: Never forget.