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Post by dogonda on Oct 10, 2006 21:08:40 GMT -5
It will be about wolf.
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Post by Maliku on Oct 11, 2006 14:45:23 GMT -5
*waits angrily*
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Post by BloodMoonWolf on Oct 11, 2006 15:33:34 GMT -5
two ways? Thats odd...but still cool I can't wait.
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Post by BloodMoonWolf on Oct 11, 2006 16:11:54 GMT -5
oh ok. I'm about to post my next part of my story. Its going to be long as hell tho. I'm just waiting for my friend to proof read it a bit.
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Post by dogonda on Oct 11, 2006 17:12:35 GMT -5
Smiling softly to himself, the Wolf reads over the scroll a second time, making sure what he read was not a fantasy. “So Larn has opted to join us…” The Wolf says softly to himself, bemused. Dipping his quill in blood he begins to scratch out his response to Bar’ Karq. Scratching the bristles where most humans grow a beard thoughtlessly, Wolf grunts out a quick spell, white mist flecking his face. The hairs shrink, winking out of existence with a slight sweet odor. Suddenly a loud bang is heard in the entryway, causing Wolf to bang his knees on his fine desk. Wolf glances up from his work angrily, hating interruptions. “Can you get the door Palk, I must not be inconvenienced any more than nesscacary,” Wolf growls, already turning back to his letter to Bar’ Karq. Nodding to himself, Palk leaves his masters study, entering the main foyer.
“May I help you gentlemen?" Palk says through gritted teeth, almost as appalled as the Wolf of the invasion of their distinguished manor by the disgusting intruders.
“We are here to see the owner of this piss-hole,” The leader of the Orsimer says slurred, obviously drunk. He grins crudely, exposing brown rotting stumps. War-axes dangle in their grips, in their true, dark and evil Orsimer design. Smiling the others cackle wildly green flesh sweating heavily in anticipation of what they are about to do.
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Post by Maliku on Oct 11, 2006 17:21:15 GMT -5
This is gonan get good, real good.
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Post by dogonda on Oct 11, 2006 17:43:52 GMT -5
not done
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Post by dogonda on Oct 11, 2006 17:58:06 GMT -5
It will probably be around 7:15
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Post by DEATH97 on Oct 11, 2006 17:59:49 GMT -5
what time zone is that Dagonda?
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Post by dogonda on Oct 11, 2006 18:01:05 GMT -5
Im in pennsylvania.
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Post by dogonda on Oct 11, 2006 18:08:45 GMT -5
Im just putting one of the methods down.
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Post by dogonda on Oct 11, 2006 18:17:43 GMT -5
They push open the study door and look around, their heavy armored boots clicking on the marble tile. Still writing on the scroll Wolf replies “Make it quick, I have important things to attended to.” Suddenly, he glances up. Slowly, he smiles, a plan already forming in his head. “May I offer you all a…drink?” he inquires, taking out a large decanter of fine whisky.
Roaring in approval, the leader of the Orc’s party sits down heavily in his chair. “Aye a drink would be welcome.” He snorts, making a small hand motion for his companions to sit. Silently, they draw up chairs; they creak heavily in protest, not used to the burden of an armored man. “We came all the way from Ornisium, we were told that we would receive a proper greeting from a Argonian in Bruma. So far I must say we are impressed.” The Orc grumbles, downing the drink along with his comrades.
“Eeeuch, what is this stuff?” The smaller of the Orsimer grimaces, the strong taste overwhelming even him.
“That is the strongest whiskey ever created. I distilled it myself.” Wolf says with a grin, looking very much like the creature he is named after.
“Whatever it is, it sure helps the long journey go down quick.” The last Orc says quietly, his large mug already empty.
“We are joining up with the Blackwood Company, we hear that is the easiest way to get rich.” The leader of the Orcs say quickly, inebriated. “We figure the –hic— here in Cyrodiil –hic—can’t compare to the fierce beasts in Ornisium.” The leader continues on, completely drunk. “Ah, well, now that you have finished your drinks I have something I wish to tell you.” Wolf says, his eyes shining maliciously. “The ingredients used in that were the usual for strong nord whisky. However, I added a few more interesting ingredients.”
“100 septims says that its moon sugar and skooma!” The smallest Orc roars happily, his drug addition being sated. His compatriots stare at him silently, hoping their host will not have cared.
“No, you fools, it is a deadly poison that even the Dark Brotherhood will not implement. It includes crushed blood grass shoots, fennel, and hadarra, blood of a vampire, and its final ingredient, werewolf claw. A dash in a keg of beer is enough to kill you from a glass. I used 3 pounds. In a few moments you disgusting creatures will die, the nine will be the ones who weigh your sins…” Wolf hisses, amused by the frightened glances the Orc’s give each other.
“You…. YOU BASTARD!” The leader roars, and suddenly doubles over in pain, feeling as though a dagger was thrust into his stomach. Shrieking, he falls to the ground heavily, his comrades staring horrified at him. His eyes turn completely white, the pupils obliterated in the overdose of poison. Blood bubbles on his lips, already his skin turning paper white. Returning to his scroll, Wolf writes down a brief note to Bar’ Karq, thanking him for the chance to test his new poison. Hearing the second one scream, he notices a startling difference for this one. His drug addiction fusing oddly with the poison, his pupils expand quickly, turning his whole eye black. The firelight pierces it, causing him to scream in agony as the light burns his retina. Dropping to the ground, he starts to spasm, his limbs shaking. The third one watches wide eyed, and a disgusting stench procures from all three of the Orcs. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Wolf realizes they have soiled themselves. The second one stops his spasm, howls bestially, and dies, still laying his mess. Turning pale, the last Orc’s death is the oddest of all. He stands, readying his axe, trying to kill Wolf before the poison seeps into his veins, and killing him. Looking up briefly, Wolf grins and whispers “You wouldn’t even stand a chance if your three friends were still alive and you weren’t even poisoned.”
“You’re going to burn in Oblivion…” The Orc gasps, sweating heavily. Suddenly, a loud crack is heard inside him, his skin bubbling. Slowly, his skin melts off, leaving only muscle and bone. Oddly still alive, his eyes wide, he stares back at Wolf, mouth open in a silent scream, the poison acting like a acid, burning his voice box out. He drops down, trying to get out any word he can. The poison slowly burns each of his internal organs.
I’m dying…. The Orc thinks to himself, feeling the smooth carpet burn his muscle and tendon. How could anyone be so cruel? He moans, trying to cling to consciousness. Slowly, he looks up, the Imperial staring down at him with a frown. Raising his boot, the Orc sighs, knowing that Malacath will greet him as a chosen. The boot smashes into his face, mixing metal with flesh.
Smiling grimly, Wolf calls into the hallway “Palk, we have more corpses with blood to be used for my ink!” and rolls up his scroll, finished at last.
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Post by soroner on Oct 11, 2006 18:24:32 GMT -5
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Post by OGRenderence on Oct 11, 2006 19:29:22 GMT -5
Sweet.
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Post by Maliku on Oct 11, 2006 19:55:57 GMT -5
Loved it, again.
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