Saturday, March 17, 2012


A better day - have ideas for each of the story arcs... though I possibly need to stop putting my own PC's into the mix. (I can't help it! They're forcing their way in. And I keep breaking my wordcounts as well! Up to 1495 words for today!)

For anyone interested by the way - the world and setting used in these pieces the last few days is the one created for and by the Fools and Heroes national UK Larp society. See for more info.


Gregory stared agape at the man. "What in the Seven's name make you think I want or need your help?" he demanded, pushing past him and glancing around at the streets. Bodies littered the cobbles and from all around there was the sounds of fighting and screams of horror.
"That's gratitude for you..." Aylix muttered, his speech slurred, as he followed the Crowan. "As I jus' saved your arse - I thought you might be a bit more agreeable to a bit of help... I am part of the militia after all. "his voice had become thick with derision at the fact.
"A militiaman on duty by the looks of things, and so drunk it's a wonder he can stand." Gregory rounded on Aylix.
"Well... it's borin' sober. And a bit of drink never stopped me fightin' before."
Further protestations from the Crowan priest were cut off as a little girl came scrabbling down the street, stumbling on the cobbles - being pursued by a group in bloodstained white robes and weilding axes. "Revel in the slaughter in the name of Abraxis!" the lead heretic bellowed.
Safely ushering the little girl down the alley, Aylix winked at Gregory. "No time for further complaints now Crowan... we've heretics to kill." He raised his hammer and met the heretics with a cry of his own. "Hammerfaaaaall!"


Leanna cursed as she stumbled over yet another tree root and hit the ground, regrazing her hands on the stoney soil. "Lord Seraklan... I don't understand... why is everything working against me? The elf and the dwarf are dead and the Eternal Weave of Lies goes on." she said with a sob as she picked herself up again and continued running.
It wasn't long before she tripped again and she screamed with frustration, her robe town and her knee grazed and bleeding profusely.

"What was that?" the shout was raised from the other side of some bushes nearby, and before she could react two men stepped through. One - the younger one was holding some kind of cudgel warily, his face fearful as he scanned the forest. The older man - from his face and the colour of his hair, obvuously the young mans father or other older relatively - was starring around with a frown on his face, a short sword held in his hand.

Leanna gave a gasp of dismay as they started to look around, which the younger man obviously heard as he turned and looked in her direction. "Father! There!" he said, eyes wide and pointing with his club.
"For the Seven's sake Lahsaa," the man sighed striding through the woodland. "Stop sounding so panicked. Your sisters will be looking to you for some bravery right now, so stop acting like a snivelling child."
Lahsaa's face fell. "Yes father."
"You there!" the older man had finally caught sight of Leanna. "Are you hurt? Did you flee the city as well?"
"Ye-yes!" she called, her breath catching as she still whimpered fromt he pain in her leg.
"Help her." the man urged to his son and dutifully, Lahsaa crouched at the womans side. "My name is Tobias Nethir and this is my son Lahsaa. Don't worry - you're safe now."


"How long as the grudge gone on for now?" Eliana's words hung in the air, awkward and hesitant and it took so long for Grundown to reply that she didn't think he was going to.
"Four hundred and thirty eight years, five months and nineteen days as of the third hour past midday." Grundown's voice was pained.
"You know it to the very hour?" Eliana's voice was incredilous, everything forgotten for the brief second that she stopped and stared agape at the dwarf.
"It is taught to all Beardlings and ingrained into who we are." Grundown replied, not stopping and Eliana had to hobble painfully quickly after him.
"But it was nenarly four hundred and forty years ago. Your clan still holds a grudge?"
"We're dawi, elf. Our memories are as long as the mountains are tall and the earth is deep. Our word is our bond, and we expect it to be so of those that deal with us. It is up to them to make sure that their children and their kin honour words as such."
"But... it wasn't us! Or our ancestors... We never broke the promises - it was the dark elves. Our tainted kin. We don't speak for them and cannot be held accountable."
"Aye, we know that know elf." Grundown's voice was full of shame. "But your tribe comitted acts worthy of a grudging since then. And the grudge will continue until those grudges are fulfilled."
"But the dwarves attacked us first! We just defended ourselves and retaliated!" there was a note of pleading in her voice and Grundown sighed heavily finally stopping.
"Aye. I know that. And the hold know that. But there is nothing we can until the grudges are fulfilled. A grudge is a grudge - nothing can change that. It must be seen through. It would take something monumental for all the grudged to be considered finished to an agreeable level at once. Until then - the grudge - the Endless Grudge of Grungranaz-Karak will go on. That's just how it is." he bowed his head and continued walking.

Eliana stood watching him leave, a dejected look on her face when suddenly realisation crept over her face, and then a smile and then a laugh escaped her lips as she reached into the bag she carried. "Grundown, son of Grakni, son of Thorri, son of Kataran..." Grundown turned, a look of shock on his face which only increased as she pulled something free of the bag. "Would this serve to end the Grudge?"


"I... I think he's coming round." the voice was soft, pleasent and just a little bit sultry without even trying and as Crow opened his eyes he found himself looking into a pair of dazzling green eyes. "Doctor Gretta, he's awake. And I told you he was a handsome one." more of her face came into view, taking in the long ebony hair, beautiful round face and the mischevious grin on her lips. His gze was drawn further down, following the cord that looped around her neck and ended in a simple dice pendant that was ressting between her bosom - accentuated by a tight corset.
He coughed, first with embaressment as his eyes flicked away from her and then with pain as his aches and pains caught up with him. "What happened?" he asked, his voice a croak.

"Them heretics mobbed you." said the voice of an older woman as Doctor Gretta came into view and started checking his wounds.. "Took about six of 'em to bring you down mind and even then you 'ad two of 'em die at your feet. You're lucky, praise Tralda, to still be with us. We 'ad an absolute Sharda of a time keepin' you livin' - no offence meantt o'course - but obviously it weren't your time yet and no one wanted to let you die after all your work protecting the wagons. You were like an Archon of the Lord of the Dead 'isself with that mace." She stood, her inspection complete. "Ee' looks fine Addy, but keep an eye on 'im. An' the others as well o'course. Not just the ones you find pretty." the woman bustled off and Crow looked back to the Traldan.

"Where are we?" he asked, looking around what was obviously a makeshift camp. Tents were being erected and cooking fires had been lit with pots of various foods dotted around the place. Flaming torches were starting to be lit and militia men were patroling round the outskirts as if looking for trouble.

"Netherthong." Addy replied with a smile. "Well, as close as we can get - it was just a small town really - no bigger than a village... there aren't room for all of us in the walls so we're 'avin' to make do with campin' around the outside. The inside's reserved for the nobs and the merchants." she sniffed, as if put out by the fact. "Looks like them are the ones who got out the quickest, so they get first dibs."

"I need to find my brother, my friends..." Crow said, trying and failing to to push himself to his feet, falling to his knees as his legs gave way and pain flared through his ribs.

"No don't mister, you're stayin' here with me for a little while until you heal up a bit. Now, what's your name?"

"Chrace. Crow Chrace."

"Intrestin' name for sure. Well Crow Chrace, I'm Addi, Or - to use me full name - Addison Taylor. Now you rest while I go and make sure all the others wounded are okay." She pushed him back down again so he was lying back in the bedroll and disappeared amongst the beds.

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