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Post by OGRenderence on Oct 9, 2006 19:12:49 GMT -5
Sorry. =(
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Post by BloodMoonWolf on Oct 9, 2006 19:13:56 GMT -5
*does a little dance*
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Post by dogonda on Oct 9, 2006 19:15:43 GMT -5
It makes the deaths of Larns kids more disgusting.
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Post by Maliku on Oct 9, 2006 19:19:45 GMT -5
*dances with Bloodmoon*
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Post by dogonda on Oct 9, 2006 19:25:00 GMT -5
BTW, im taking a death part from the Tale of Cealas.
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Post by dogonda on Oct 9, 2006 19:33:37 GMT -5
I have 2 things to say. 1:If you dont like Violence stop reading. 2:If you dont like Violence, why the hell are you reading a story by me?!
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Post by OGRenderence on Oct 9, 2006 19:34:38 GMT -5
lololol! I LOVE VIOLENCE!!
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Post by Maliku on Oct 9, 2006 19:38:29 GMT -5
VIOLENCE IS AWESOME!!!#)@!#)(
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Post by dogonda on Oct 9, 2006 19:48:12 GMT -5
Leaving town, Larn passes by his old house, realizing that it is no longer his home. Staring quietly at the old wood cabin, the world quiets as thought mourning the ending of this chapter of Larn’s life, beginning a new darker one. Slowly, he takes his gaze of his old home and continues on, sound returning to the forest at last, the mourning over. He continues on, his leather shoes crunching over the rocky terrain, the silver blade tight in his grip. Slowly, the rocky soil turns to frozen soil to finally snow. Shivering, still dressed in his light guard-issued garb Larn murmurs, “Probably should buy myself some heavier clothes or a cloak…” and drinks some hard liquor, making his insides burns.
Opening the ancient metal doors, he sees the statue honoring the Champion of Cyrodiil’s statue, raising its mace in triumph over Mehrunes Dagon. Staring grimly to himself, he wants down ancient, exquisitely stone steps. Pushing the door open to Novaroma, an Altmer gentlemen smiles, his teeth shining, made the purest shade of white by magicka. “Welcome to Novaroma, how can I help.” The Altmer says, his fake smile still painted on.
“I need a cloak,” Larn says, his tone devoid of all life. “Also I require a plain leather sheathe for my sword. My ornate one was…. Lost in a battle with a ogre.” Larn adds, lying.
“Well I assure you my good sir, we have many types of cloaks. You see we have this very delightful mountain lion pelt cloak.” The merchant rambles, showing Larn a soft golden cloak. “We also have a lovely leaf robe, very exquisite, but also very pricey. Yours for lets say, 500 septims,” The merchant lists, trying to pass off all his goods.
“I do not desire anything so fancy, I just wish for something that will cover my face, something in a ebony color.” Larn says, “If it is enchanted the better.”
“Well, I do have something. However I am rather reluctant to part with it. I will only part with it for…” The merchant smiles as he reaches his price. “2000 Septims.” He smiles, thinking that no one would pay that price for it.
Wordlessly, Larn throws down the sack of gold, the change resounding inside the sack. Picking up the dark cloak, he leaves the store, throwing the hood over his head, to the astounded stare of his merchant. Walking down to the most famous Inn in Bruma, Larn pushes the door open, a wave of noise washing over him. Sitting in the chair farthest away from the fire, Larn scans the room, looking around for the menace that slaughtered his family. Noticing him in a boisterous crowd, Larn pulls his flask from his hip, noticing that its empty. Mentioning to the waitress, a young Nordic girl of 15, she walks over, grinning. “What will it be sir?” She says, slightly tipsy.
“Just fill this up with the finest brandy you have.” Larn says quietly, trying to maintain a low profile. Catching his tone, she sobers and goes to the bar. Moment’s later, she returns with a completely filled flask, the strong smell almost getting him drunk.
“So, down near Chorrol, this one guy tried to stop me from robbing him,” The Orc says, drunk. Snapping up, Larn stares at him through the depths of the hood, his eyes flaring and mouth drawn into a heavy scowl. “You should have seen it when I killed his children. Of course I had some fun with his daughter!” The Orc roars with a wink, the unsavory crowd around him cheering in praise. “Of course, his boy tried to protect his older sister, but I was sure to rip him to shreds before I raped his daughter.”
Larn’s fist clenches over the hilt of his stolen sword, the wire cutting toughly into his palm. A drop of blood finds its way to the tip of the sword, staining the tip. Sitting in his chair, he plans the monsters death as the Orc winds down, going to bed. Waking from his brief nap, Larn awakes to find the room silent, the fire burned out. Standing slowly, the chair creaks, grown used to the pressure. Making his way to the Orc’s room, he hears a loud snore, making sure that the beast is still asleep. Inserting his old dagger into the lock, he grunts, and pushes down heavily on it. Cracking, the lock snaps, the door opening silently. Wrinkling his nose at the horrid smell, he stares at the face that has haunted his nightmare and thoughts in the last day. Tearing his old clothes into 5 strips he measures them into his mouth. Quietly, he binds the Orc’s arms and legs to the bedposts, using the strongest knot he can think off and gags the Orsimer. Staring at him with disgust Larn clears his throat and stabs the Orc in the chest with his dagger. The Orc’s eyes fly open, dual brown disks wide, frightened with the strange assailant. Smiling to himself, Larn throws back his hood, emerald eyes burning with hate. “You filthy green bastard, by the nine I will make you pay for what you did to my family. Your death will be long and painful.” Larn whispers into the Orcs throat, putting the icy edge of his sword at the throat of the Orsimer.
Shuddering in fear, the Orc makes silent pleas tears pouring down his face. Grabbing his dagger, Larn pulls it from the Orc’s chest, the beast sighing in relief, blood pooling at the hole. Smiling sadistically at the Orc, Larn says softly “Oh, I need this for something more important.” Walking towards the foot of the bed, Larn suddenly plunges the dagger into the Orcs crotch. Blood spurts from the wound, staining the sheets of the bed heavily. Writhing in pain, the Orc tries to escape the knife, but helps Larn cut off both the Orc’s own penis and scrotum. Smiling with evil pleasure knowing, that he is avenging his children, Larn picks up all of the body parts and moves the gag slightly. The Orc whimpers knowing what’s coming next. “Now open your mouth.” Larn says icily. Slowly, the Orcs lips open. Prying his teeth open with his dagger, Larn forces all of the body parts into the Orcs mouth, forcing him to eat his member. Choking the Orc tries to spit it out. “Oh no you don’t you bastard, eat it. I know what you did to my daughter and this is how you’re going to pay for it.” Larn whispers into his ear, using his hands to make the Orc chew. Placing the gag over his mouth again, Larn picks up the silver longsword. “Now I need to leave, but this would make you die, however not as painful as I like” Larn grins again, teeth gleaming in the candlelight, the scent of blood egging him on. Taking his sword, he slices the Orcs stomach open, acid sizzling over the Orc’s skin, the smell of charred flesh joining that of the blood. Dipping his hands in the Orc’s blood, he leaves, and writes on the door, Rest in peace my children, for I have avenged you.
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Post by DEATH97 on Oct 9, 2006 19:54:36 GMT -5
Sweeet, bad day to be an Orc... I'd exalt you, but you have nowhere to hold your Karma
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Post by Maliku on Oct 9, 2006 19:55:21 GMT -5
Bravo, I loved it! He deserved EVERYTHING he got. I think people who rape/molest little kids need to freaking die.
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Post by dogonda on Oct 9, 2006 19:56:15 GMT -5
Lol, That was my most fun segement, BTW i have a new twist
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Post by dogonda on Oct 9, 2006 19:57:47 GMT -5
Edited my karma btw.
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Post by BloodMoonWolf on Oct 9, 2006 20:31:11 GMT -5
awsome. yet another master peice by dagonda
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Post by DEATH97 on Oct 10, 2006 3:13:31 GMT -5
OK then........EXALTED ^^
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