| | Weird Tales from the Outlands. | |
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Mordy the Gnome
Posts : 107 Join date : 2009-05-02 Age : 31 Location : Las Vegas
| Subject: Weird Tales from the Outlands. Thu Dec 23, 2010 8:29 pm | |
| I suppose that, in the long run of things, a monster can always learn to be compassionate. Men, however, we are the monsters we are so afraid of.
It was sun rise, and the rest of the realm decided to sleep in. The Barad'Dun sun lit the vallies, put a gleam on its golden sands, and brought the peach trees to life. Last night's fire came to solemn embers in the early hours. The meal so eagerly chased became a distant memory and, like all things, the gnome's stomach gurgled.
"Aww feck! Sunloight olready?"
The bones of his latenight rabbit meal lay next to his makeshift cooking area. It was a small campsite, even for a gnome. One that did not take much effort aside from a sitting rock, a pillow rock, and a cooking rock. All of which were the same rock. This and the small fire space only inches away from it. Barad'Dun days are hot but the nights offer little warmth, and one usually doesn't fare out himself with out proper provisions. Mordy was deserving of this temproary exile, gnomes don't do well with social interactions all the while dealing with two quarts of assorted liquors and ales in his gut.
One should not, and I reinstate should not, come onto a gaurds daughter regaurdless of his inebriation or sobriety. Most soldier's daughter's fathers have skill with the blade and if not that, good relations with the county arbiterary group. Especially if she is a human and you are a gnome. A drunken gnome. Gnomes already don't have a very good reptutaion. any where for that matter, they are devious and are treated as such.
And so he roams, biding his time until the punishment is over. They don't provide food to those in exile, that would defeat the purpose. Instead, the punished must hunt for himself, and hope that he doesn't become a meal either. Mordock looked at his predicament as a challenge, if not a way to pay a spiritual debt for having a good time (as some might call it). These aren't just any badlands, these are Mordy's Badlands. | |
| | | konradr
Posts : 3563 Join date : 2009-03-10 Age : 59 Location : Las Vegas/Henderson
| Subject: Re: Weird Tales from the Outlands. Thu Dec 23, 2010 9:19 pm | |
| "He desearved it!" shouted the gruff older man with the the thick black beard and raging black eyes. He was clad in the Tabard of the Royal Militia, the cities warden's comprised of retired warriors from all branches of Barad'Dun's armored warriors. He limped slightly as he stormed his portly body towards the room's sole, wooden door. "I hope he rots out there."
As he reached the door he turned to point at his young daughter. "And you young lady had better stay in this room or I'm warning you..."
He slammed the door shut and there was the heavy clanking of metal as he bolted it. He always did that, she thought, threatend her without ever telling her what the punishment would be. Usually it was just being locked in this room. She sighed and moved to her one, narrow, iron barred window.
What father puts iron bars on her daughter' window? She questioned in her mind as she stared out at the sunlit scene beyond. Busy street's, busy houses, stores and the market. Beyond that the great, amber stoned wall of the city, with guards patrolling lazily across it. Further on was the great western wilderness, with its hot hues of red, amber and yellow seething in the heat of the day.
"Oh Mordy." She sighed. "Be careful you lovable gnome." She giggled and her mind went back to the night they had let their passions run wild. The night that had betrayed them and found him banished beyond the city walls and her a prisoner in her father's tower.
"Be careful love." She sighed again and just stood staring beyond that far wall, wondering where he was and how he was doing. | |
| | | Mordy the Gnome
Posts : 107 Join date : 2009-05-02 Age : 31 Location : Las Vegas
| Subject: Re: Weird Tales from the Outlands. Sun Dec 26, 2010 6:18 am | |
| And the sun continued its slow wake, over the the budding valley city. And somewhere there, the ward of said Royal Gaurd sat at her window looking for her one night stand. Unfortunately Mordy, has a big heart, and so he divies it as far as it can go.
So now we find him in search of the next meal.
"Nyah, if I could only find me some good 'earty meats."
He looked over to find the rabbit. That and the golden sands he was so used to sleeping on. He could fluff the grains much like an aristrocrat could fluff a pillow, if only for an hour or so of comfort.
The mountains from the far east blanketed the sun's light, shewing the gorge the grand silhouette of the Barad'Dun tower. The mountains performed sharp dances with their summits, an ever persistent reach for the sky. A pink hue hovered over their claws, protecting the sapphire canvas that was daintly clad in clouds. This was a Barad'Dun morning, Mordock knew it. And like all Barad'Dun mornings, something awe inspiring must be done, she was not a city to harbour the mundane, and her citizens wouldn't do her wrong. She was a gem and, naturally, was treated like one.
Mordy spent no time packing up, after all there was anything to pack up seeting aside his mace, his dual pronged fork, and his colours. In his stead was left a few logs charcoaled wood, a rather charred rock, bones of the rabbit, and his foot steps, which would soon be shrouded by the shifting sands.
A gnome's stride is a small one, the evidence lied in their short legs, but there was impact to them. A certain importance to each plant of the foot. Most gnomes have calculation, preparedness or so it would seem to the other races. As a matter of fact this gait was obtained through years of mishaps that were 'covered' by a quaint and shortly lasted " I meant to do that". They, the gnomes, share a certain quality of luck that their aka stature, leprachauns, has been said to posses. And as another 'matter of fact', many very lucky gnomes are known within gnomish communities as leprachauns, in jest of silly fables told to human girls and boys.
So on walked Mordock, through a desert, looking for a horse with no name... or anything really that could be taken to rodeo and tamed, if only for a day or two. | |
| | | Mordy the Gnome
Posts : 107 Join date : 2009-05-02 Age : 31 Location : Las Vegas
| Subject: Re: Weird Tales from the Outlands. Mon Dec 27, 2010 3:58 am | |
| The desert sun was high, all Barad'Dun was awake now. The peach trees gleamed with its new buds. Gophers prance somewhere, miles away, to find a more settle place to reside. Hawks watch their food, swooping in to fill their own bellies. Snakes lie in wait for the left overs. Merchants readied their shops for the day's customers.
Not far from where our protagonist walked, the pounding of a hoofed creature could be heard. A pounding of some urgency, as the tempo was fast in an unnatural way. Worried. Running away. A creature with split hooves, bipedal. This could be discerned by the beat, as if a heart beat was escaping ache.
Mordock stopped and waited, in a stressed walking pose. His head whipped westward, and his eyes widened. Dust flew up towards, and burrowing animals and the like scurried home. A fawn ran a clumsy run in Mordy's general direction, in his small gnome chest his heart jumped.
Fawns are know to be hairy, its a just how they are. The range in brown hues is rather mundane which what bored Mordock. Its also that fact that, too much hair bothers him. And their clumsy gait. He would sit and think about about the different races and the female anatomy. But this moment, he could only admire this new figure. Of course, it helped that she was very feminine and that she was running. But then, all men would gape at running women.
But her hair was red. The kind of royal red that that warms the blood. The kind that queens used to adorn their cheeks. The kind that was shed during wars.
And there she was, running right towards Mordy. | |
| | | Mordy the Gnome
Posts : 107 Join date : 2009-05-02 Age : 31 Location : Las Vegas
| Subject: Re: Weird Tales from the Outlands. Tue Dec 28, 2010 8:12 am | |
| She started to yell something to him but all he could see was this girl jogging his way with a big smile her face. And he stood and watched. This changed when her pursuer, a rather large dune worm, ascended above the sands and bit at what Mordy hoped to be the shapely arse of his new found love interest. Its purple obsidian chitin caught the desert sun's light and swallowed it whole. At the height of its flight, its round maw opened. This horrific aperture is comprised mainly of teeth and slime-ridden lining. Then, it made its unmistakable roar.
Sand worms are self explanatory, they are relatively bigger than the average worm. In fact, they could be compared to your standard winged wraith, minus the wings of course and an extra two feet in radius. They range in deep red shades, or colours mixed with a deep red, and an obsidian glimmer in their uneven segmented chitin. And they usually roam a good fifteen miles west from the Barad'Dún city, closer to the Aratari Desert Basin where the buffalo roam. | |
| | | Mordy the Gnome
Posts : 107 Join date : 2009-05-02 Age : 31 Location : Las Vegas
| Subject: Re: Weird Tales from the Outlands. Tue Dec 28, 2010 8:45 am | |
| (my play station only gives me about two paragraphs per post, a left arrow will denote a contiguous paragraph. thank you) « Even migration doesn't bring them this close to solid tetonic plates found at mountain bases...
The gargatuan dove back into the sand, its body just slid back into its element.
"Aww, shite..." was all he could say.
By then, the fawn made it to Mordy with amost unpleasant look in her eyes.
"HELP ME!" were the choice words she could muster. This girl happened to have eyes the colour of insanity. An ever mixing hue of green iris, blood shot outside, and slightly blue tinted tears.
" I yind fou bery vootiful." was all he could come up with. | |
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