archur
watch for the flash
It was a day like any other, the sun was beating down on the townsfolk as a surge of people hurried from left to right in the inner walls of the city. Suddenly, a gasp of shock, and a parting of the crowd for a duo of hooligans, mere blurs in the sea of Varethians. One was clad in only a loincloth, with red streams running down his deformed face. They weren't really running down his face, as for further inspection, it would seem that it would be tattoos running down his face. However painful that would have been, we do not question the mind of a madman bearing a cudgel in one hand, and sack of what one would assume to be full of trousers. He was followed by his partner in crime a fully armored knight, who also had no trousers as well.
It was at this time that they passed around a local tavern, which stopped dead silent at the commotion outside. Tyrion, the hulking giant of a man, wasn't having any of it. He sprinted out of the tavern, pushing through the mob of people, he chased after the two, who ducked into an alleyway, leaving himself to bump into a tall, lean, sun-born. He pulled her along with him. "Come on now! We must catch them!" He shouted and pointed, as the two danced out the edge of their vision and turned a corner. Dashing towards them, the fully armored knight had no trouble backing the two into a corner. The horror wielding the bag had given a shaky look to his companion, whose face jutted out disgustingly as he turned to the clotheless one. "Spheeheahardoo?" It asked. "Goopholynschok." The one wielding the bag replied, and it tried to rush pass Tyrion. Tyrion caught him by his bare leg, which gave enough time to let the armored one escape. Tyrion grinned, as he was about to pull his prey closer, when suddenly, he felt his grip slip from him. "What sorcery-?" Tyrion was able to manage before the thief slid out of his grasp, leaving behind a sheaf of what appears to be skin colored leggings. Odd. Tyrion crumpled it up in his hand, and looked to the person he pulled alongside him to catch the pair.
"What are you, mad? Why didn't you step in to help me?"
It was at this time that they passed around a local tavern, which stopped dead silent at the commotion outside. Tyrion, the hulking giant of a man, wasn't having any of it. He sprinted out of the tavern, pushing through the mob of people, he chased after the two, who ducked into an alleyway, leaving himself to bump into a tall, lean, sun-born. He pulled her along with him. "Come on now! We must catch them!" He shouted and pointed, as the two danced out the edge of their vision and turned a corner. Dashing towards them, the fully armored knight had no trouble backing the two into a corner. The horror wielding the bag had given a shaky look to his companion, whose face jutted out disgustingly as he turned to the clotheless one. "Spheeheahardoo?" It asked. "Goopholynschok." The one wielding the bag replied, and it tried to rush pass Tyrion. Tyrion caught him by his bare leg, which gave enough time to let the armored one escape. Tyrion grinned, as he was about to pull his prey closer, when suddenly, he felt his grip slip from him. "What sorcery-?" Tyrion was able to manage before the thief slid out of his grasp, leaving behind a sheaf of what appears to be skin colored leggings. Odd. Tyrion crumpled it up in his hand, and looked to the person he pulled alongside him to catch the pair.
"What are you, mad? Why didn't you step in to help me?"
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