A wander across Dunari..

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A wander across Dunari..

Postby Grief » Wed Sep 30, 2009 10:34 pm

Aah, the beauty of alcoholic creativity. I fell through the door around 4am a couple of weeks ago, drunk enough that I was peeing about 85% proof. (censored from another P-word for the family friendliness offered by a tyranical undead dragon.. :twisted: ). After finally working out how to turn the laptop on, and that my password is not: f**k, s**t, stupid bloody thing, why the f**k wont you work or any other such combinations, I think I mayt have finally fallen asleep sometime when the normal world is waking up and getting ready for work. After coming to the following morning, I discovered this had been saved. Following a bit of editing (removing any swear words, non-sensical words, and other such drunken rubbish), I present this for your consumption.. er.. enjoyment?

The following accounts are hereby declared to be true and unaltered, as signed by William Scythe, son of Adeth.

I was born in a village in the southern part of the Kingdom of Rhodesium called Beru, a beautiful place though not very wealthy. A happy childhood ensued until I reached the age of nineteen, after which I was chased out of town for practicing magic. Seems I’d been born with a talent for understanding nature that accidentally came to light, and thanks to the ignorance of the villagers, I was seen to be a forest demon and ran out of town before I could trick them or turn them into trees.

I won’t bore you with the details, save that that was the last time I ever saw my parents or my home again. I had nothing with me except the clothes on my back, no coin, tools or way of making something of myself. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t starve; when you instinctively what plants are poisonous and what are beneficial, there is no way you could go hungry. My biggest problem was knowing where to go, I’d never left my village in my entire life, neither had anyone I knew. So I did what any person would in a situation when they know nothing... I guessed. I shut my eyes, spun around and fell over. After that I got up and set off north whilst chiding myself for being an idiot, not the first and undoubtedly not the last time it happened.

After walking for a couple of days I had still not come across any other signs of settlements. I was beginning to despair that my village was the only place in the world where people lived. After all the travelling I’ve done now I can see how wrong I was, but at the time I didn’t know any better.

Over the next few days little happened of any significance; I ate, walked then slept. It was towards the evening on the fifth day that I stumbled upon a deserted campsite, the fire still slightly warm. Although this sounds insignificant, bearing in mind I was despairing of ever finding civilised contact again, for me it was nothing short of a miracle. That night I dreamt of finding the previous owner of the fire, though when I did find him he was nothing like my dream-like hero I had conjured up within my head.

I met him the next day, you know that feeling you get when it feels like you’re being watched? That’s what it felt like, a prickling sensation across my neck.

Was sitting down next to the campfire, after a lot of sweat and effort I finally got a small fire going, just chewing away on a half cooked root of some kind when I felt that prickling sensation. Turns out that prickling sensation was a knife across my throat.

“What the hell do you think you’re playing at kid? This is my campsite”

I went to turn around and started blabbering apologies as I put my hands in the air. Courage never was my strong point at that age, though I’m not as bad now, honestly.

“Don’t turn around. And shut yer mouth before I rip you a new one. Speak only when I say you can. What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

I started to mumble something before I found myself sprawled across the ground, a bolt of pain shooting up my jaw. Clutching my hand to my jaw, I looked at up at the guy who’d just punched me in the face. He looked about my age, maybe a bit older. Rough around the ages, dressed for life outdoors with a dead rabbit slung over his shoulder.

“Don’t be a smart ass kid, when I say speak, I want to hear you loud and clear. Got it?! Now, what the hell are you doing here?”

I opened my mouth to speak, felt it click and winced. I told him what had happened to me over the last few days and how I had wound up at his camp. Whilst I was doing this, he’d dropped the rabbit to the dirt and started to skin it. Seemed like a big knife to use for something so skinny, but it’d felt even bigger when it was held at my throat. When I’d finished he looked over at me.

“Could’ve done without the life story kid, but too late now. You hungry? Must be if you’ve only been eating rabbit food for the last few days. Could do with some meat and muscle on that pathetic frame”

“I’m starving. Wait, what d’ya mean pathetic frame?! I can plough a field all day long!” Indignation making me forget what I’d been told not 2 minutes ago. Another punch in the face soon made me remember though.

“What did I just tell you?! Don’t speak unless I tell you to. Now, if you’re hungry; build up that candle of yours into a proper fire, get some sticks and make us up a spit. An ploughing counts for jack out here, so if I say you’re pathetic looking, it means you’re pathetic looking.” He returned to the rabbit, drawing out the innards through a slit in its belly.

I looked at my... candle… alright, looking back it was kinda small and useless, but at the time pride and stupidity made me believe that the fire was perfect; especially after the amount of effort I’d put into it to get it to that stage. I gathered some wood in silence; the bigger chunks I threw on the fire, the smaller pieces I stripped off the bark and assembled them into some sort of spit like the one I’d seen back at my village. The guy had been watching me for some time now.

“What a bloody half-assed effort you’ve made of that. I’d laugh at it if it wasn’t a waste of my time. Give it here.”

He took my spit, and in 20 seconds dismantled what had taken me 20 minutes to make. Two minutes after that, he had re-assembled it, and ok, it did look better than mine. He threaded it through the rabbit and set it over the fire.

“Keep turning it kid, and don’t let it burn or I’ll put you over the fire next. I’m gonna get sleep. Wake me when it’s done” He settled down on the dirt and shifted his hat over his face.

“I’ve have name you know. Its Will-” I started to tell him.

“Don’t care kid. Now shut your mouth and keep turning that spit.” Came a mumbled reply from under the hat.

He kept calling me ‘Kid’ for a long time. It was an even longer time before I found out his name. I had to do a lot of nasty things before he felt I’d earned the right to know it; it’s for this reason that I’m not going to tell you. If I had to work my furry little butt off for that knowledge, don’t see why you should get given it for free.
"He's like a 5 year old. The most twisted, funniest, stupidest, amazing five year old with a bottle of whiskey I've ever seen"
Some people know me too well..
Grief
 
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