Wasn't the bloddy worst. (grafik Language)

[NESchampion]

Very nice.

[kid]

Slate seems very flowry to me at the moment.
kind gentle and sweet.

not half bad.

[Inwintersshadow]

Interesting piece...

[Edgar]

[Brokenbone]

Hah! Poster best viewed with AC/DC's "DIrty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap" playing in the background.

[thinkpig]

hahahaha hell yeah, bevan rules

[Edgar]

He knew It was to bloddy easy.

Bevan, that bloddy 'alfie with that big bloddy bear, Roland and Deva had made short but bloddy work on them buggers by the kingsroad, nearly twenty of the cunts it was.

And it was bloddy work, sure as stabbin' it was, Bloddier then a virgin's sheet after 'er first rape, bloddy enough to make a grown man smile, sure as sure.

He had felt it then, to bloddy easy, 'specialy gutting them bastards that slept, bloddy rightous it was.

They came back to that small town with all them pretty lil' guards with their spears a few days later, all glowin' and actin' like struttin' heroes they did, sure as sure, If his old ma' had seen him then.
Roland had used that silver bloddy tounge o' his, wrappin' them around his fingers like a rat round a bloddy stick.. But them bluebloods barely smiled, crazy bloddy cunt just stood there, surrounded by guards, kept talkin' about bloddie 'alfies while Bevan and the rest told each and bloddy own that them bandits where bloddy history and that the roads was as safe as a nobles purse.

So they had pushed on, bloddy idiots that they where, One of the group, Xansia said there might be bloddy more o' them, an' them first buggers being bloddy pushovers Bevan and the rest figured they where easy pickings, And Bevan 'ad a hard time not lookin' at that Xansia, she looked like a struggler she did, sure as sure and sweet as rape. But them buggers kept watching him, and he'd been trying so hard to behave, someone was always bloddy watching and ol' Tark was becomming a blodd pride of the community he was, sure as stabbing.

They want to the bloddy wilds, followin' trails o' dragged corpses in the middle of the bleeding night, proof that them deadies 'ad mates around. It was dark as a maggots arse, and all dressed up in shiny they made as much sound as a Amnian whore with somethin' to prove, they couldn't have spotted the ambush even if they'd tried.

The first arrow thudded into Rolands shield, somewhere from the right, the sound nearly making Bevan soil himself. He had screamed and went after the shooter, the others rushin' forward, aimin' for that campfire, rushin'.

But runnin' after a bloddy shooter in the middle of the bloddy night dressed up in shiny bloddy plate prooved as bloddy useless as a glowin' cock, Bevan didn't catch a bleedin' thing. But them others where in a middle of a bloddy tussle they where, sure as sure, Deva and Xansia hurtin' and Roland was getting bloddy swamped, half orcs an' 'alfies. The bloddy Dwarf Ragnar was swingin' that axe like it was a child misbehavin'.

Bevan came in from the side, took the buggers by surprise, He didn't seem himself as tougher or better then them others but a greatsword in the back is still a greatsword in the bloddy back, and them bandits kept bloddy dyin'.

Soon the bloddy clearin' was filled with moans, tears, shit an' guts, They where all bloddy bleedin' to, some more then the others, The missplaced smiles of people thinkin' they made it was on all their bloddy faces, Bevan 'ad a hard time not starin' at the two woman, all drenched up in blood they where as pretty as his own daughter, by the bloddy gods sometimes he missed his lil' wildflower.

But screams an' flyin' arrows hittin' his mates snapped him back, sure as sure it did, Panic and the shapes of a dozen or so half orcs dressed in shiny with bows in their hands made them all run like they 'ad the bloddy demons after them, they hit the river 'ard, not a single bugger of them not bleedin', screamin' and terrified of their blodd life. Roland dragged his sister from the water, quiet as a strangled babe she was, but Roland said she'd make it so that was that.


They didn't look like shinin' heroes when they came back, sure as sure they didn't, bloddy and wounded, angry but still bloddy kickin'.

Them bandits had made them eat their bloddy words they had.

[thinkpig]

"...And it was bloddy work, sure as stabbin' it was, Bloddier then a virgin's sheet after 'er first rape, bloddy enough to make a grown man smile, sure as sure."

bevan is ultraviolent faerun droog! hehe. i honestly don't know where else in the world you go to read this sort of thing man, really uh... unique! keep it up!

[MaskedIllusion]

Very sick man, but delightfully so. Keep it common man, bevan's is an awesome story.

[I-KP]

And here was I thinking that I was pushing it a bit with Tam's no-filter, "bollock, buggery 'n shitefinger," gutter-mouth. I feel positively PG-13 now.

[Edgar]

Thank you all for, what I am going see as compliments!

well here is another go at writing from someone else's perspective, and possibly try to show a bit on the internal struggle that is Bevan Tark, trying to behave and possibly find a new path.

Still grimy and dirty though, cause thats DnD for me..

----------



Her name was Serenia, but all her friends had called her Seren back in her home village, she was sixteen and a whore.

She had been one for nearly a six months now, six months of tears, pain and lost hope. She was a slave, captured and sold to a couple in Skaug that made her sell her body to filthy dockmen. She had become pregnant twice, but that woman had made her drink something vile, it hurt a while and she knew that whatever they had made her drink had killed her babies, even unborn she still missed them, she still wept each night, praying to chauntea for their lost souls.

That night had been just another night, Some thug, gang-tattoed had payed double and brought a friend, both drunk, stinking of sweat. Three was a crowd in the small room at the back of the couples house. Both men where to drunk to perform, and they had blamed her, that type always did.

Hitting the girl was against the rules, but they didn't seem to care, and her owner never stopped gangers, a man could get into serious trouble in Skaug for something like that. The men had screamed and threatened, big words to at least act tough. Seren was curdled up against a wall, crying and holding her hands in front of her face, the man in the house would punish her if the bruises showed, always protect the face.

She had been crying, begging them to stop, that it wasn't her fault, but they hadn't listened, they never did.

Thats when someone kicked in the door.

The two gangers had turned around, staring at the man standing in the doorway. He looked like another ganger, a bit shorter then her customers, ginger hair, scarred, smiling slightly, showing rotten and yellowed teeth, dressed in dirty rags, covered in rust, it was obvious the man usually wore armour.

The men had threatened him, telling him what important men they where, that their gang would have his neck, one of them had thrown a punch. After that Serenia had closer her eyes, to frightened to watch. She had just heard the noises, grunts, whimpers, laughter and the sound of something sharp tearing into skin and flesh, the gurgling of somone drowning in his own blood. After that it was quiet, except her own sobs and someones heavy breathing.

She had heard something hit the floor close to her, it sounded like money, and she had dared to look up.

He had been the only one standing, weezing and holding his side, trying to keep preassure one some wound, the gangers where lying on the floor and on her bed, she couldn't bear looking at them, but they defenetly weren't going to hit another girl. He had looked down on her and said:

"Take tha' bleedin' money an' ge' ou' o' bloddy Skaug, them buggers are gonna blame you for tha'"

He pointed with a rusty large dagger towards the corpses, the blade didn't look like it was made for a human, and it was still dripping blood.

She hadn't dared to move



"Oi! You bloddy cun'! I told you to take them bleedin' shinies an' run! Run like the 'ounds o' bloddy 'ells is after ya! Cause if you don' bloddy move soon i'll rape ya myself alive or bloddy dead, doesn't matte' to me! An' don't you bloddy tell nobody tha' Bevan bloddy Tark 'as started rescuin' whores.. ruin my bloddy reputation i' would, sure as sure"

Serenia had done what she was told, she ran, she ran and ran and ran, all the way to the docks, and nobody in Skaug cared who you where as long as you payed, and she had a fistfull of double eagles from Baldurs Gate.

The Captain had asked her where she was going..

And she answered "home"..

[Edgar]

Just a short one, hopefully one of a series. But had to get something out there.


-----


Back inte Marches (part 1)

He'd nearly cried when 'e 'eard it..
The talk o' traders, beggars an' dockworkers, There was talk o' painted orcs an' the Legion musterin'. War had come to the marshes.

He didn't trust 'em arse-stuffed cun'ts in the bloddy legion to sen' for him, they'd just wouldn't an' bloddy say they 'ad. Just anothe' excuse to kill 'em, he bloddy know i, Sure as sure. Temper bloddy risin' soon as thinkin' o' it. Best way o' escapin' a bleedin' death sentance was going to the bleedin' war. Tha' would bloddy show 'em.

Bevan had tried to cheer himself up, bought himself a whore, payed enough bloddy shinies to make sure she kept bloddy smilin' and didn't 'ave any visible scars. She even threw in tha' she'd promise to struggle an' scream for 'elp, bless 'er 'eart.. Bu' nothing bloddy worked, 'e just couldn't ge' i' up, too bloddy afraid.

So 'e had drunk himself into a stupor, an' appearently drunk he 'ad more guts then blodd brains cause 'e woke up on a ship 'eadin' north, covered in vomit an' smellin' o' his own fear stinkin' piss.

Bevan 'ad begged an' threateed the captain, pleaded an' screamed for 'er to turn back for the bleedin' Gate again. Bu' 'e 'ad as much luck as a amnian whoe caught by a orchish horde. The last tenday 'e spen' in the ships brig, mutterin' an' cursin'...

And then they reached Rivermoot.

[Edgar]

Waterdeep, part one

(okay, been a while since I wrote something, so i'm kicking of all quiet like, just a short story, part one of a small series.. hopefully I can get the next one out of my head in a few days)

Another day at the docks, another useless day spent, not even one of the traders had picked up for hauling duty, at the end he hadn't even bothered to show a bloddy interest.

Marielle always nagged on him, told him to do better, told him to stop running with the boys. Like you could really quit the Mudstreet Stranglers just like that! Once a Mudder, always a Strangler as the old saying went. It was really her fault he spend a little extra to give away some pearl necklaces, She never gave her what she should, always complaining, never wanted to do anything, always saying she didn't want to do anything with Wildflower in the same room. And when he sent the kid out she complained that he couldn't send her out on the streets alone, why the hell not! His mum had always sent him out alone, and he turned out all proper!

Bevan Tark was working himself up in a rage on his way home, stomach turning with hunger and anger, he was getting cold as well, the half-frozen mud had creeped through his cheap and mended boots during the day and had finally reached his feet, even through the layers of rags he’d stuffed in there.

He stopped just outside the door leading to the stairway connecting his family’s small room with the rest of the house, this dirty and broken house, homes of families just like his. small or large, legal or hiding, all down on their luck and struggling for ends meat, all locals to, Mudstreet didn’t take too kindly to foreigners.

He stood there, just staring at the door for over a hundred heartbeats, just looking at it, hands frozen stiff not even closing on the doorknob, he looks down the street and then up towards the closed and boarded windows that hid his room from view, he knew what waited, angry looks and a crying daughter, who was they to complain, they could bloddy well get their own bleedin coins, why should he support em? He deserved what little he earned, sure he did, and who was they to stop him? Marielle and Wildflower, such little rats they was, riding his bloddy wave. If not for them he could have bloddy been someone. He spits on the ground, and heads for Strangler’s Neck, he was sure some of the boys was there, and he had a few pennies on his pocket still, bloddy hell it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve an ale or two after a day of in what Bevan Tark was sure was one of them nine hells, Waterdeep, city of splendors his bloddy arse!.

[Edgar]

(okay.. rushed work but felt I have to get something done to sort of get my arse into gear)

He woke up, face down in the gutter, the dried up cake of yesterdays vomit sticking him to the cobblestones.
His tounge felt hairier then a dockside whores arse and twice as bloddy big, sure as sure they did.
The local children where already standing there, staring and pointing. They always did, reckon they thought him some sort of drunk, just cause a man took a few now and then and didn’t find his bed, wherever it was.

He damn well didn’t even know where in the bloddy hells he was. Some damn village with a bleeding bloddy tavern, that’s about how much he cared. Last few months he’d been through more of the type then he’d care to remember and they where all the bloddy same.
They didn’t trust him, and he didn’t like them, and not a bloddy whore around, not for half a bleeding coin or posher either. Just taken wifes and bloddy maidens that didn’t look twice at him. Not a cunt breathing that looked at him with a twinkle in them pretty little eyes, not at a man like him. Dirty, stinking and mean as a freshly raped wyvern. Didn’t much matter what he said he’d done.

The children screamed and ran when he stood up, their shriekes hurting like a mules kick. He coughed and tried to steady himself on something, someone standing next to him, bloddy hells he hated when they did that. He felt something under the fabric, ringmail possibly.

-Bloddy hells, you kicking me ou’ already, you miserable cun’? ‘aven’ done nuthin’, sure as sure!
-sir? The man sounded alarmed, maybe even a bit frightened?

It was one of his own soldiers, sure as sure it was,Uniform and all. One of the Vigil’s Guard. Miserably little wanker too.

Sir? Letter for you sir, ‘s from Deva sir
Took a damn while to read it, words kept jumping around and the headache made it all sort of dizzy, his eyes narrowing the closer the end he came.

- Bloddy ‘ells.. Oi.. find my bleedin’ things an’ warn the bleedin’ camp.. I wan’ ‘em all lookin’ shinie’ then a newsucked cock when I ge’ there.. or else I’ll kniferape the lo’ o’ ‘em, you understan’?

- Y..y..yes sir Commander sir.

Bevan Tark nodded and spat.

- Don’ ge’ cheeky you lil’ whore, just do wha’ your boss told’s ya. Reckon’ ‘s abou’ time to stop chasin’ bleedin’ bloddy Devils in the bleedin’ countryside an’ ge’ back to bloddy work eh?

[kid]

screw you. come play.