Give your terrible roleplaying advice

OrenjiGatsu

OrenjiGatsu

The best moon you'll ever see.
Hey you, yes you. Tired of excellent and though provoking roleplaying advice on the forums? Are you frustrated by the lack of useless and inane storytelling tips in the advice section? Where can one go for truly awful roleplaying advice? Well, a lot of places actually, but also right here.

Welcome to the terrible roleplaying advice thread, the thread that gives only the worst roleplaying tips imaginable! We will guide you to a world full of pointless and asinine drivel that only the most loathsome hack can churn out. By following tips from a guy who is clearly not plagiarizing a YouTube channel and is in no way a hypocrite, along with all the others that post here, you too can roleplay in a way that only the most brain-dead and vapid reader will be able to enjoy! It's that easy.

If you feel like this advice or advice already said isn't terrible enough, no problem. Just simply make a worse version of it.
 
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inb4 i get bitched at for this hot take:

only write one liners with "yes" *he replied*

or another one

punctuation is optional. same with spacing out dialogue between two characters. spelling?? never heard of her.
 
Never ever give your partner time to react to a situation.

Need a certain event to unfold? Simply take control of your partner's character and do all the writing for them!
 
Writing this was the hardest laugh I've had in a while
The best characters are clones of pre-existing ones in media. There's no need to create an original or interesting character, just take a pre-existing one, re-name it, slightly alter the design, optionally genderbend it, and maybe even relate them to the character you're blatantly ripping off loosely basing them off of!
This isn't Superman, this is Hyperwoman! She's a half-Kyryptonian half-Demon sent to Earth at the same time Superman was, who just so happens to wear a blue and red suit with a red cape. She has all of Superman's abilities plus the ability to summon the undead, and she fights crime too, but isn't afraid to kill. She and Superman are also long-lost siblings, but neither of them know it.
 
Remember, taking control of peoples characters makes the RP better and faster, and when creating your character, your best bet is to go for an ultra edgy orphan teen who turned to killing and has an overly tragic backstory that involves his parents getting murdered and science experiments.
 
The best way to endear your character to others is to have them be bitter and whiny all the time, and refuse to interact or help out anyone! Just stand in the corner, sigh, and monologue internally until the plot comes to you!
 
Hehuah.

MAY I PRESENT TO YOU: HOW TO PURPLE PROSE.

The Eye of Argon

THE EYE OF ARGON

by Jim Theis

The weather beaten trail wound into the dust racked
climes of the baren land which dominates large portions of the
Norgolian empire. Age worn hoof prints smothered by the sifting
sands of time shone dully against the dust splattered crust of
earth. The tireless sun cast its parching rays of incandescense
from overhead, helped way through its daily revolution. small
rodents scampered about, occupying themselves in the daily
accomplishments of their dismal lives. Dust sprayed over three
while they are boring the burdonsome
cargoes of their struggling overseers.
"Prepare to embrace your creators in the stygian haunts of
bright, barbarian ", gasped the first soldier.
"Only after you have kissed the flashing stead of death,
wretch! "returned Grignr.
A sweeping blade of flashing steel riveted from the massive
barbarians hide enameled shield as his rippling right arm thrust
forth, sending a steel blade to the hilt into the soldiers
vital organs. The disemboweled mercenary crumpled from his
saddle and sank to the clouded sward, sprinkling the parched dust
with crimson droplets of escaping life fluid.
The enthused barbarian swilveled about, his shock of fiery
red hair tossing sturdy in the humid air currents as he faced
the attack of the defeated soldier's fellow in arms.
"Damn you, barbarian" Shrieked the soldier as he observed
his comrade in death.
A gleaming scimitar smote a heavy blow against the
Renegade's spiked helmet, carrying a heavy cloud over the
Ecordian's misting brain. Shaking off the effects of the
Grignr brings down his scarlet
streaked edge against the soldier's crudely forged hauberk,
clanging harmlessly to the left side of his opponent. The
soldier's stead whinnied as he directed the horse back from the
driving blade of the barbarian. Grignr leashed his mount forward
he hoarsely piercing battle cry of his wilderness bred race
resounded from his graduation. A twirling blade bounced
harmlessly from the mighty thief's buckler as his rolling right
Ripping
through the Simarian's exposed gullet. A gasping gurgle from the
soldier's writhing mouth as he tumbled to the golden sand at his
feet, and wormed agonizingly in his death bed.
Grignr's emerald green orbs glared lustfully at the
wallowing soldier struggling before his chestnut swirled mount.
His scowling voice reverberated over the dying form in a tone of
mocking mirth. "You city bred dogs should not learn to
antagonize your better. "Reining his weary mount ahead, grignr
resumed his journey to the Noregolian city of Gorzam, hoping to
discover wine, women, and adventure to boil the wild blood
coarsing through his savage veins.
The trek to Gorzom was forced upon Grignr when the soldiers
of Crin were leashed upon him by a faithless concubine he had
wooed. His scandalous activities throughout the Simarian city
had unleashed throngs of havoc and uproar among it's refined
patricians, leading them to tack a heavy reward over his head.
He had barely managed to escape through the back entrance of the
inn he had been guzzling in, as a squad of soldiers to
him. After spilling a spout of blood from the leader of the
mercenaries as he dismisses one of the officers' arms, he
Gorzom, rumored
to contain hoards of plunder, and many young people
who has the backbone to wrest them away.

-2-

Arriving after dusk in Gorzom, grignr descended down a dismal
Alley, reining his horse before a beaten tavern. The redhaired
giant strode into the dimly lit hostelry reeking of foul odors,
and cheap wine. The air was heavy with chocking fumes spewing
from smolderingtorches encased within theden's earthen packed
walls. Tables were clustered with groups of drunken thieves, and
cutthroats, tossing dice, or making love to be willing prostitutes.
Eyeing a slender female crouched alone at a nearby bench,
Grignr advanced wishing to wholesomely occupy his time. The
flickering torches cast weird shafts of luminescence dancing over
the half naked harlot of his choice, her stringy orchid twines of
hair swaying gracefully over the lithe opaque nose, as she raised
a drained mug to her pale red lips.
Glancing upward, the alluring complexion noted the stalwart
giant as he approached quickly. A faint mica sparked from the
pair of deep blue ovals of the amorous female as she motioned
Grignr, enticing him to join her. The barbarian seated
himself upon a stool at the white side, exposing his body,
naked save for a loin cloth brandishing a long steel broad sword,
an iron leather battle helmet, and a thick leather sandals, to
her unobstructed view.
"You have need to occupy your time, barbarian", questioned
the female?
"Only if something worth offering is within my reach."
Staged Grignr, as his hands crept to embrace the tempting female,
who welcomed you with open willingness.
"From where you come barbarian, and by what are you
called? "Gasped the complying wench, as Grignr smothered her lips
with the blazing touch of his flaming mouth.
The engrossed titan ignored the queries of the inquisitive
female, pulling her towards him and crushing her sagging nipples
to his yearning chest. She gave in, winding forth
soft arms around the harshly bronzedhide of Grignr corded
shoulder blades, as his callous hands caressed her firm
protruding busts.
"You make love well wench," Admitted Grignr as he reached
for the vessel of potent wine his batch had been quaffing.
Grignr had taken hold of,
sending its blood sloshing over a flickering
crescent; leashing tongues of bright orange flame to the foot
trodden floor.
"Remove yourself Sirrah, the wench belongs to me;" Blabbered
a drunken soldier, too consumed by the influence of his
virile brew to take note of the superior size of his adversary.
Grignr lithly bounded from the startled female, his face lit
up to an ashen red, and eyes locked in a searing feral
blaze towards the swaying soldier.
"To hell with you, braggard!" Bellowed the angeed Ecordian,
he heeded his finely honed broad sword.
The staggering soldier clumsily reached the pommel
of his dangling sword, but before his hands ever touched the
oaken hilt a silvered flash was slicing the heavy air. Thews
of the savages lashing right arm out of the glistening
bronzed hide as his blade bit into the soldier's neck,
loping off the confused head of his senseless tormentor.
With a nauseating thud the severed oval toppled to the
floor, as the segregated torso of Grignr's bovine antagonist
swayed, then collapsed into a pool of swirled crimson.
In the confusion the soldier's fellows confronted Grignr
with unsheathed cutlasses, directed toward the latters scowling
make up.
"The slut should have taken his quarry more carefully!"
Roared the victor in a mocking baritone growl, as he wiped his
dripping blade on the prostrate form, and returned it to its
scabbard.
"The fool should have shown more prudence, however you shall
rue your actions while rotting in the pits. "Stated one of the
sprawled soldier's comrades.
Grignr's hand began to remove his blade from its leather
housing, but retarded the motion in the face of the blades waving
before his face.
"Dismiss your hand from the hilt, barbarian, or you shall
find a foot of steel sheathed in your gizzard. "
Grignr weighed his position observing his plight, where-upon
he took the soldier's advice as the only logical choice. to
attempt to hack his way from his present predicament could only
warrant certain death. Hey, no mind to bring upon his own
demise if an alternate path presented itself. The will to
necessitate his life
hopes of a moment of carelessness later on the part of his
captors in which he could effect more plausible means of
escape.
"You may steady your arms, I want to go without a struggle."
"Your decision is a wise one, or perhaps you would have
been better off had you forced death, "the soldier's mouth
wrinkled to a sadistic grin of knowing mirth as he prodded his
prisoner on his sword point.
After an indiscriminate period of marching through slinking
alleyways and dim moonlighted streets the procession confronted a
massive seraglio. The palace area was surrounded by an iron
grating, with a lush garden upon all sides.
The group was admitted through the gilded gateway and Grignr
what ledalong a stone pathway bordered by plush vegitation
lustfully enhanced by the moon's shimmering rays. Upon reaching
the palace the group
minutes of explanation, led through several winding corridors to
a richly draped chamber.
Confronting the group what a short stocky man sitting on
golden throne. Tapestries of richly draped shelf blue silk
covered all walls of the chamber
Thrones were plated with sparkling white ivory. The man upon the
throne had a naked wench seated at each of his arms, and a
Trusted Advisor seated in back of him. At each cornwr of the
chamber a guard at attention, with upraised pikes supported
in their hands, golden chainmail adorning their torso's and
barred helmets scarlet plumes enshrouding their heads.
The man rose from his throne to the dias surrounding it. His
plush turquois robe dangled loosely from his chuncky frame.
The soldiers surrounding Grignr fell to their knees with
Heads bowed to the stone masonry of the floor in fearful dignity
to their sovereign, leige.
"Explain the purpose of this intrusion upon my chateau!"
"Your sirenity, resplendent in noble grandeur, we have
brought this yokel before you (the soldier gestured toward
Grignr) for the redress or your all knowing wisdon in judgment
regarding his fate. "
"Down on your knees, lout, and pay proper homage to your
sovereign! "commanded the pudgy noble of Grignr.
"By the surly beard of Mrifk, Grignr kneels to no man!"
scowled the massive barbarian.
"You dare to deal with this blasphemous act to me!
indeed good stranger, yet your valor smacks of foolishness. "
"I find you to be the only fool, sitting upon your pompous
throne, enhancing the rolling flab of your belly in the midst of
your elaborate luxuryand ... "The soldier standing at Grignr's
side smote him heavily in the face with the flat of his sword,
cutting short the harsh words and knocking his battered helmet to
the masonry with an echo-ing clang.
The paunchy noble's sagging round face flushed suddenly
pale, then pasty lit up to a lustrous cherry red radiance. His
Lips trembled with malicious rage, now a muffled
sibilant gibberish. His sagging flabs rolled like a tub of upset
jelly, then compressed as he sucked in his gut in an attempt to
conceal his softness.
The prince regained his statue, then spoke to the soldiers
surrounding grignr, his face conforming to an ugly expression of
sadistic humor.
"Take this uncouth heathen to the vault of misery, and be
sure that his agonies are long and drawn out before death can
release him. "
"As you wish, your command shall be heeded
immediately, "answered the soldier on the right of Grignr as he
stared into the barbarians seemingly unaffected face.
The Advisor seated in the back of the noble slowly rose and
advanced to the side of his master, motioning the wenches seated
at his side to remove themselves. He lowered his head and
whispered to the noble.
"Eminence, the punishment you have decreed will cause much
misery to this scum, yet it will only last a short time, then
release him to a country beyond the sufferings of the human body.
Why not mellow him in one of the subterranean vaults for a few
days, then send him to life lab in one of your buried mines.
To one such as he, a life spent in the confinement of the stygian
pits wants to be an infinitely more appropiate and lasting torture. "
The noble cupped his drooping double chin in the folds of
his briming palm, meditating for a moment upon the rationality of
the councilor's word's, then raised his shaggy brown eyebrows and
turned toward the advisor, eyes aglow.
"... As always Agafnd, you speak with great wisdom
words of great knowledge concerning the nature of one search
hey, "sayeth, the king. The noble turned toward the prisoner
with a noticeable shimmer reflecting in his frog-like eyes, and
his lips contorting to a greasy grin. "I have decided to void my
previous decree. The prisoner must be removed to one of the
palaces underground vaults. There he will stay until I have
decided that he has simmered, whereupon he is to be
allowed to spend the remainder of his days at lab in one of my
mines. "
Upon hearing this, Grignr realized that he would be fate
far less merciful than death to one as he he who is used to
roaming the countryside at will. A life of confinement would be
more than his body and mind could stand up to. This type of life
would be immeasurably worse than death.
"I will never understand the ways if your twisted
civilization. I simply defend my honor and condemned to life
confinement, by a pig who sits on his royal ass wooing whores,
and knows nothing of the affairs of the land he imagines to
rule! "Lectures Grignr?
"Enough of this! Away with the slut before I loose my
control! "
Seeing the peril of his position, Grignr searched for
opening. Crushing prudence to the sward, he plowed into the
Soldier at his left arm taking hold of his sword, and bounding to
the dias supporting the prince before the startled guards could
regain their composure. Agafnd leaved Grignr and his sire, but
found a sword blade permeating the length of his ribs before he
could be loosed his weapon.
The councilor slumped to his knees as Grignr slid his
crimsoned blade from Agfnd's rib cage. The fat prince stood
undulating in insurmountable fear before the edge of the fiery
maned comet, his flabs of jellied blubber, pulsating to and fro in
ripples of flowing terror.
"Where is your wisdom and power now, your magjesty?" growled
Grignr.
The prince went rigid as Grignr discerned him glazing over
his shoulder. He swallows the cause of the noble's
attention, raised his sword over his head, and prepared to leash
a vicious downward cleft, but fell short as the haft of a steel
Rimed pike clashed against his unguarded skull. Then blackness
and solitude. Silence enshrouding and ever peaceful reind
supreme.
"Before me, sirrah! Before me as always! Ha, Ha Ha,
Haaaa ... ", nobly cackled.

-3-

Consciousness returned to Grignr at stygmatic pools as his
mind gradually cleared of the cobwebs cluttering its inner
recesses, yet the stygian cloud of charcoal ebony. At
incompatible shield of blackness, enhanced by the bleak abscense
of sound.
Grignr's muddled brain reeled from the shock of the blow
had recieved the base of his skull. The events leading to his
predicament were slow to filter back to him. Hey dickered with
the notion that he was dead and had sunk, however it
may be, to the shadowed land beyond the aperature of the
grave, but rejected this hypothesis when his memory sifted back
within his grips. This was not the land of the dead, it was
something infinitely more precarious than anything the grave
could offer. Death promised infinity of peace, not the finite
misery of an inactive life of confined torture, forever concealed
from the life shafts of the beloved rising sun. The orb
cherished above, yet now cherished above
all else. To be happy again glimpses of the snow
capped summits of the land of his birth, never again to witness
the thrill of plundering unexplored lands beyond the crest of a
bleeding horizon, and perhaps worst of all the denial to ever
again encompass the lustful excitement of caressing the naked
curves of the body of a trim yound wench.
This was indeed one of the buried chasms of Hell concealed
within the inner depths of the palace's despised interior. A
fearful ebony chamber devised to drive to the brinks of insanity
the minds of the moment condemned, through the inapt
solitude of a limbo of listless dreary silence.

-3 1/2

A tightly elliptical circle or torches cast their
wavering shafts prancing morbidly over the smooth surface of a
rectangular, ridged old. Expertly chisled forms of grotesque
gargoyles graced the oblique rim protruberating the length of the
grim orifice of death, staring forever into nothingness in
complete ignorance of the bloody rites enacted in their
prescence. Brown flaking stains decorated the golden surface of
the ridge surrounding the age, which is banked to a small slit at
the lower right hand corner of the altar. The slit stood above a
crudely pounded pail which had several silver meshed chalices
hanging at its side. Dangling at the rim of golden mallet, the
handle of which was engraved with images of twisted faces and
grooved at its far end with slots designed for a snug hand grip.
The head of the mallet was slightly larger than a clenched fist
and shaped into a smooth oval mass.
Encircling the marble altar was a congregation of leering
shamen. Eerie chants of a bygone age, originating unknown eons
before the memory of man, were being uttered from the buried
recesses of the acolyte's deep lings. Orange paint was smeared
in generous globules over the tops of thw priests' wrinkled
shaven scalps, while golden rings projected from the lobes of
their pink ears. Ornate robes of lusciour purple satin enclosed
their bulging torsos attached to their waists with silvered
Ebony buckles in the shape of morose
mis-shaped skulls. Dangling around their necks were oval
fashoned medalions hero by thin gold chains, featuring in their
centers blood red ruby which resembled crimson fetish eyeballs.
Cushoning her bare feet were plush red felt slippers with
pointed golden spikes projecting from their tips.
Located in front of the altar, and directly adjacent to the
copper pail was a massive jade idol; a misshaped, hideous bust of
the shamens' pagan diety. The shimmering green idol was placed
in a sitting posture on an ornately carved golden throne raised
upon a round, dvory plated dias; it bulging arms and webbed hands
resting on the padded arms of the seat. Its head was entwined in
golden snake-like coils hanging over its oblong ears, which
taped off to thin hollow points. Its nose was a bulging
triangular mass, sunken at its sides with tow gaping nostrils.
Dramatic beneath the nostrils what a twisted, shaggy lipped mouth,
giving the impression of a slovering sadistic grimace.
At the foot of the heathen diety a slender, pale faced
female, naked but for a golden, jeweled harness enshrouding forth
huge outcropping breasts, supporting long silver laces which
extended to her thigh, standing before the pearl white field with
noticable shivers traveling up and down the length of time
exquisitely molded body. Her delicate lips trembled beneath soft
Narrow hands as she attends to conceal herself from the piercing
stare of the ambivalent idol.
Glaring straight down to her what the stoney, cycloptic
face of the bloated diety. Gaping from its single obling socket
what scintillating, many fauceted scarlet emerald, a brilliant gem
to have a life all its own. A priceless gleaming
stone, capable of domineering the wealth of conquering
empires ... the eye of argon.

-4-

All knowledge of measuring time had escaped Grignr. When a
person is deprived of the sun, moon, and stars, he looses all
conception of time. It seemed
as if years were passed
misery and mental anguish
only a few days in length. He slept three times and had
been fed five times since his awakening in the crypt. HOWEVER,
when the actions of the body are restricted its needs are also
affected. The need for nourishmnet and slumber are directly
proportional to the functions the body has performed, meaning
Grignr may become hungry every six
hours and witness the desire for sleep every fifteen hours,
while in his present condition he may encounter the need for
food every ten hours, and the want for rest every twenty hours.
All methods he had before depended upon were extinct in the
dismal pit. It has been been imprisoned for ten minutes
or ten years, he did not know, resulting in a disheartened
emotion deep within his being.
The food, if you can honor the moldering lumps of fetid mush
to that extent, what born to him by two guards who opened a portal
at the top of his enclosure and looking at him in wooden bowls,
retrieving the food and water bowls from his previous meal at
the same time, after which they threw back the bolt on the iron
latch and returned to their other duties. Since deprived of all
other means of nourishment, Grignr what impelled to eat the
tainted slop in order to ward off the paings of starvation,
though he stuffed it into his mouth with his filthy fingers
he struggled to force it down his throat, he imagined it was
that which has been spelled out by the hounds stationed at various
segments of the palace.
There was little in the bar vault that could occupy his
body or mind. He had paced out of the length and width of the
enclosure time and time again and tested every granite slab which
consisted of the walls in the hopes of finding a hidden
passage to freedom, all which is to no avail other than to
keep him busy and distract his mind from wandering to thoughts of
what he believed in his future. He had memorized the number of
strides from one end to the other of the cell, and knew the exact
number of slabs which made up the bleak dungeon. numorous
schemes were introduced and alternately discarded in turn as they
succored to unravel to him no
slightest chance of success.
Anguish continued to be used as a means of occupation were
exhausted. Suddenly without no tive, he was ruled from
his contemplations as he detected a faint scratching sound at the
end of the crypt opposite him. The sound seemed to be caused by
something trying to scrape away at the grantite blocks the floor
of the enclosure consisted of, the sandy scratching of something
like at animal's claws.
Grignr gradually groped his way to the other end of the world
Vault carefully feeling his way along with his hands ahead of
him. When a few inches from the wall, a loud, penetrating
Squeal, and the scampering of small padded feet. Reverberated from
the walls of the roughly hewn chamber.
Grignr threw his hands up to shield his face, and flung
himself backwards upon his buttocks. A fuzzy form bounded to his
hairy chest, burying its talons in his flesh while gnashing
to his throat with his teeth
breath scortching the sqirming barbarians dilating nostrils.
Grignr grappled with the lashing flexor muscles of the repugnant
body of a garganan brownhided rat, striving to hold its razor
teeth from his juicy jugular, as his beady gray organs of sight
glazed into the flaring emeralds of its prey.
Taking hold of the rodent around its lean, growling stomach
Grignr pried it from his crimson rent breast,
removing small patches of flayed flesh from his chest in the
motion between the squalid black claws of the starving beast.
Holding the rodent at arms length, he cupped his right hand over
his frothing face, contricting his fingers into a vice-like fist
over the quivering head. Retaining his grips on the council, grignr
flexed his outstretched arms while slowly twisting his right hand
clockwise and his left hand counterclockwise motion. The rodent
let a tortured squall, drawing scarlet as it violently dug
its foam flecked fang into the barbarians
his face to contort to ugly grimace as he cursed beneath his
braeth.
With a loud crack the rodents head parted from its squirming
torso, sending out a sprinkling shower of crimson gore, and
trailing a slimy string of disjointed vertebrae, snapped trachea,
esophagus, and jugular, disjointed hyoid bone, morose purpled
stretched hide, and blood seared muscles.
Flinging the broken body to the floor, Grignr shook his
blood streaked hands and wiped them against his thigh till dry,
then wiped the blood that had been showered his face and from his
eyes. Again sitting himself on the jagged floor, he prepared
to revamp his glum meditations. He said himself that
as long as he still breathes the gust of life through his lungs,
hope was not lost; he just said this, but found it hard to
comprehend in his gloomy surroundings. Yet he was still alive,
his bulging sinews at their peak of marvel, his struggling mind
floating in a miracle of impressed excellence of thought. plot
after being sifted through his mind in energetic contemplations.
Then it hit him. Minutes may have passed in silent thought
or days, he could not tell, but he stumbled at last upon a plan
that he considers as having a slight margin of plausibility.
He might not have submitted in the attempt, but he did not
without a final bloody struggle. It was not a foolproof plan,
yet it is built up in a store of renewed vortexed energy in his
overwroughtsoul, though he might perish in the execution of the
escape, he would be the life of infinite torture
in store forhim. Either way he would still cheat the gloating
prince of the succored revenge his sadistic mind craved so
dearly.
The guards would soon come to him off to the prince's
buried mines of dread, giving him the sought after opportunity to
execute his newly formulated plan. Groping his way along the
rough floor Grignr finally found his tool in a pool of congealed
gore; the carcass of the decapitated rodent; the tool that the
very filth he had been sentenced too, spawned. When the time
came for action he would have to be prepared, so he set himself
to rending the sticky hulk in grim silence, searching by the
touch of his fingertips for the lever to freedom.

-5-

"Up to the altar and be done with it wench;" ordered a
fidgeting shaman as he gave the female a grim stare accompanied
by the wrinkling of his lips to a mirthful grin of delight.
The girl bursts into a slow steady whimper, stooping shakily
to be kneeling and cringing woefully from the priest with both arms
jade jade shin rising before
her scantily attired figure. Her face was redly inflamed from
The salty flow of tears spouting from her glassy dilated
eyeballs.
With short, heavy footfalps the priest approached the female,
his piercing stare never wavering from her quivering young
countenance. Halting the terrified girl he projected his
arm outward and motioned to rise with an upward movement of
his hand. the girl's whimpering increased slightly and she sunk
closer to the floor. The flickering torches
outlined her trim build with a weird ornate glow as it cast a
Ghostly shadow dancing in horrid waves of splendor over smoothly
worn whiteness of the marble hewn altar.
The shaman's lips curled back farther, exposing a set of
blackened, decaying molars which transformed his slovenly grin
Into a wide greasy arc of sadistic mirth and alternately
interposed into a strong sensation of stomach curdling
nausea. "Have it as you want female;" gloated the enhanced
priest as he bent over at the waist, projecting his ape-like arms
forward, and clasped the female's slender arms with his hairy
round fists. With an inward surge of his biceps he harshly
jerked the trembling girl to her feet and smothered her salty wet
cheeks with the moldy touch of his decrepid, dull red lips.
The vile stench of the Shaman's hot fetid breath over came
the nauseated female with a deep soul searing sickness, causing
her to wrench her head backwards and regurgitate a slimy, orange
white stream of swelling gore over the richly woven purple robe
of the enthused acolyte.
The priest's lips trembled with a malicious rage as he
removed his callous paws from the girl's arms and replaced them
with tightly around undulating neck, shaking her violently to
and fro.
The girl gasped a tortured groan from her clamped lung, forth
sea blue eyes bulging forth from damp sockets. Cocking her right
foot backwards, she leashed it desperately outwards with the
strength of a demon possessed, lodging her sandled foot squarely
between the shaman's testicles.
The startled priest released his crushing grip, crimping his
body over at the waist of his recessed belly; wide open
in a deep chasim. His face flushed with a rose
crimson, eyelids fluttering wide with eyeballs protruding blindly
outwards from their sockets to their outmost perimeters, while
his lips quivered wildly about Allowing an agonized wallow to
gust forth as his breath billowed from burning. His hands
reached out clutching his urinary gland as his knees wobbled
quickly about a few seconds then buckled, causing the
ruptured shaman to collapse in an egg huddled mass to the granite
Pavement, rolling helplessly about in his agony.
The pathetic screeches of the shaman groveling in dejected
misery on the hand hewn granite laid pavement, worn smooth by
countless hours of arduous sweat and toil, a welter of ichor
oozing through his clenched hands, attracted the purturbed
attention of his comrades from their foetid ulations. The
actions of this rebellious wench bespoke the creedence of
unheard of sacrilege. Never before in a lost maze of untold eons
had a choice one dared to demonstrate a blasphemy in the face
of the cult's idolic diety.
The girl cowered in unreasoning terror, helpless in the face
of the emblazoned acolytes' rage; her orchid tusseled face
smothered betwixt her bulging bosom as she shut her curled lashed
tightly hoping to open them and find themselves awakening from a
morbid nightmare. yet the hand of destiny decreed her no search
mercy, the antagonized pack of leering shaman converging tensely
upon her prostrate form were entangled all too lividly in the
grim web of reality.
Shuddering from the clamy touch of the shaman as they
grappled with her supple form, hands wrenching at her slender
arms and legs in all directions, her bare body being molested in
the midst of a labyrinth of orange smudges, purpled satin, and
mangled skulls, shadowed in an eerie crimson glow; her confused
head reeled then clouded in a mist of enshrouding ebony as she
Lapsed beneath the protective sheet of unconsciousness to a land
peach and resign.

-6-

"Take hold of this rope," said the first soldier, "and climb
out of your pit, slut. Your presence is requested in another
far deeper hell hole. "
Grignr slips his right hand to his thigh, concealing a
small opaque object beneath the folds of the g-string wrapped
about his waist. Brine wells swelled in Grignr's cold, jade
squinting eyes, which grown accustomed to the gloom of the
stygian pools of ebony engulfing him, were bedazzled and blinded
by flickerering radiance cast forth by the second soldiers
resin torch.
Tightly gripped in the second soldier's right hand, opposite
the intermittent torch, what a large double edged ax, a long
leather wound oaken handled transfixing the center of the
weapon's iron head. Adorning the torso's of both the sentries
were thin yet sturdy hauberks, the breatplates of which were
woven of tightly hemmed twines of reinforced silver braiding.
Cupping the soldiers' feet were thick leather sandals, wound
about their shins to two inches below their knees. Wrapped about
their waists were wide satin girdles, with slender bladed
poniards dangling loosely from them, the hilts of which featured
scarlet encrusted gems. Resting on the manes of their heads,
and reaching midway to their brows were smooth copper morions.
Spiraling the lower portion of the helmet were short, up-curved
silver spikes, while a golden hump spired from the top of each
basinet. Beneath their chins, wound around their necks, and
draping their clad shoulders dangled shelf purple satin cloaks,
which flowed midway to the soldiers feet.
Hand over hand, feet braced against the walls
enclosure, huge Grignr ascended from the moldering dephs of the
forlorn abyss. His swelled limbs, stiff due to the boredom of a
timeless inactivity, compounded by the musty atmosture and jagged
granite protuberan against his body, craved for action. The
opportunity now Presenting itself serves the purpose of oiling
his rusty joints, and honing his dulled senses.
He braced himself, facing the second soldier. The sentry's
stature was wildly exaggerated in the glare of the flickering
Cuppet Cuppex in his right fist. His eyes were wide open in a
slightly slanted owlish glaze, enhanced in their sinister
intensity by the hawk-bill curve of his nose and yellow pique
of his cheeks.
"Place your hands behind your back," said the second soldier
he he raised his ax over his right shoulder and cast it a
wavering glance. "We must bind your wrists to parry any attempts
at escape. Be sure to make the knot a stout one, Broig, we
Would not you like to take a leave of our guidance. "
Broig grasped Grignr's left wrist and reached for the
barbarians's right wrist. Grignr wrenched his right arm free and
swilveled to face Broig, reach- beneath his loin cloth with his
right hand. The sentry grappled at his girdle for the sheathed
dagger, but recoiled short of his intentions as Grignr's right
poor swept to his gorge. The soldier went limp, his bobbing eyes
rolling beneath fluttering eyelids, a deep world across his
spouting gullet. Without lingering to observe the result of his
efforts, Grignr drops to his knees. The second soldier's ax
cleft over Grignr's head in a line of silvered, severing
several scarlet locks from his scalp. Coming to rest in his
fellow's stomach, the iron head crashed through mail and flesh
with splintering force, spilling a pool of crimsoned entrails
paving over the granite.
Before the sentry could wrench his ax free from his
comrade's carcass, he found Grignr's massive hands clasped about
his throat, choking the life from his clamped lung. With a
zealous grunt, the ecordian flexed his tightly corded biceps,
forcing the grim faced soldier to one knee. The sentry plunged
his right fist into Grignr 's face, digging his grimy nails into
the barbarians flesh. Ejaculating a curse through rasping teeth,
Grignr surged the bulk of his weight foreard, bowling the
soldier over upon his back. The sentry's arms collapsed
to his thigh, shuddering convulsively; his bulging eyes staring
blindly from a bloated, cherry red face.
Rising to his feet, Grignr shook the blister from his eyes,
ruffling his surly red mane as a brush fire swaying to the
nightime breeze. Stooping over the spr sprawled corpse of the
first soldier, Grignr retrieved a small white object from a pool
of congealing gore. Snorting a gusty billow of mirth, he once
more concealed th e tiny object beneath his loin cloth; the
tediously honed pelvis bone of the broken rodent. Returning his
attention to the second soldier, Grignr turned to the task of
attiring his limbs. To move about freely through the dim
recesses of the castle would require the grotesque garb of its
soldiery.
Utilizing the silence and stealth aquired in the untamed
climbs of his childhood, Grignr slink through twisting corridors,
and winding stairways, lighting his way with the confused
torch of his dispatched guardian. Knowing where his steps were
leading to, Grignr meandered aimlessly in search of an exit from
the chateau's dim confines. The wild blood coarsing through his
veins yearned for the undefiled freedom of the livid wilderness
lands.
Coming upon a fork in the passage he treaked, voices
led by clinking footfalls discerned to his sensitive ears
from the left corridor. Wishing to avoid contact, Grignr veered
to the right passageway. If aquired as the purpose of his
presence, being barbarous accent
that his attire was not that of the castle's mercenary troops.
In grim silence Grignr treaded down the dingily lit
corridor; A stalking panther creeping warily along on padded
feet. After an interminable period of wandering through the dull
corridors; no gaps to break the monotony of the cold gray walls,
Grignr espied a small winding stairway. Descending the flight of
Arced granite slabs to their posterior, Grignr was faced by
a short haalway leading to a tall, arched wooden doorway.
Holding the teeming portal portal, Grignr restes his
shaggy head sideways against the barrier. Detecting no sounds
from within, he grasped the looped metel handle of the door; his
arms surging with a tremendous effort of bulging muscles, yet the
door would not budge. Retrieving his ax from where he had
sheathed it beneath his girdle, he tacked it in his mighty hands
with an angled grunt, and wedges one of its blackened edges
into the crack between the portal and its iron rimed sill.
Bracing his sandaled right foot against the rougly hewn wall,
teeth tightly clenched, Grignr appilevered the oaken,
employing it as a lever to pry open the barrier. The
leather wound hilt bending to its utmost limits of endurance, the
massive portal swung open with a grating of snapped latch and
rusty iron hunges.
Glancing over the dust swirling in the gloomily dancing
glare of his flickering cresset, Grignr eyed evidences of the
enclosure is nothing more than a forgotten storeroom.
Miscellaneous articles required for the maintenance of a castle
were piled in disorganized heaps at infrequent intervals toward
the wall opposite the barbarian's piercing stare. Utilizing
Long, bounding strides, Grignr paced his way over to the mounds
of supplies to discover if any articles of value were contained
within their midst.
Detecting a faint clinking sound, Grignr sprawed to his left
side with the speed of a striking cobra, landing harshly upon his
back; Torch and ax loudly clattering to the floor in a morass of
sparks and flame. A elmwoven board leaped from collapsed
flooring, clashing against the jagged flooring and spewing a
shower of orange and yellow sparks over Grignr's startled face.
Rising uneasily to his feet, the half-stunned Ecordian glared
down at the grusome arm of death he had unwittingly leap.
"Mrifk!"
If not for his keen auditory organs and lighting steeled
reflexes, Grignr would have been groping through the shadowed
bright pits of the Grim Reaper. He had unknowingly stumbled upon
an ancient, long forgotton booby trap; a mistake which would have
stunted the perusal of longevity of one less agile. A mechanism,
similar in type to that of a catapult what concealed
below two collapsible sections of granite flooring. The arm of
the device was four feet long, boasting razor like cleats at
regular intervals along its face with which it was to skewer the
luckless body of its would be victim. Grignr had stepped upon a
concealed catch which relaesed a small metal latch beneath the
two granite sections, causing them to fall inward, and thereby
loose the spiked arm of death
Partially out of curiosity and partially out of an
inordinate fear of becoming a pincushion for a possible second
trap, Grignr plunged into the open gap in the floor.
The floor of a second chamber is located seven feet below the
glare. Tossing his torch through the aperature, Grignr grasped
the side of an adjoining tile, dropping down.
Glancing over the room, Grignr had discovered that he had
decended into the palace's mausoleum. Rectangular stone crypts
cluttered the floor at evenly placed intervals. The tops of the
enclosures were plated with thick layers of virgin gold, while
the sides were plated with white ivory; at one time sparkling,
but now grown through the passage of the rays of
allcompassing mother time. Featured at the head of each
sarcophagus in tarnished silver was expungingly carved
likeness of its rotting inhabitant.
A dingy atmosphere pervaded the air of the chamber; Which
sealed in the enclosure for an unknown period
stale. Intermingling with the curdled currents was the repugnant
stench of slowly moldering flesh, creeping ever slowly but surely
through minute cracks in the numerous vaults. Due to the
embalming of the bodies, their flesh decayed at a much slower
rate than is normal, yet the nauseous or what none the less
repellant.
Towering over Grignr's head was the trap he released. The
mechanism of the miniaturized catapolt was cluttered with mildew
and cobwebs. Notwithstanding these relics of antiquity, it
efficiency remains unimpieded. To the right of the trap wound a
short stairway through a recess in the ceiling; a concealed
entrance to the mausoleum for which the catapult had
apparently been erected as a silent, relentless guardian.
Climbing up the side of the device, Grignr set to the task
of resetting its mechanism. In the e event, that's what
organized, it would prove to be no evidence of his
presence open to wandering eyes. Besides, it might even serve to
dwindle the size of an opposing force.
Descending from his perch, Grignr was started by a faintly
muffled scream of horrified desperation. His hair prickled
yawkishly in disorganized clumps along his scalp. As a cold
Danced along the length of his spinal cord. No moral / mortal
barrier, human or otherwise, which is capable of arousing the numbing
sensation of fear inside of grignr's smoldering soul. HOWEVER,
he was overwrought by the forces of the barbarians' instinctive
fear of the supernatural. His mighty thews had always served to
adequately conquer any tangible foe., but the intangible thing
something distant and terrible. Dim horrifying tales passed by
word of mouth over glimmering camp fires and skins of wine had
more than once the purpose of chilling the marrowed core
of his sturdy limbed bones.
Yet, the scream contained a strangely human quality, unlike
that which Grignr imagined would come from the lungs of a demon
or spirit, making Grignr take short nervous strides advancing to
the sarcophagus from which the sound was issuing. Clenching his
teeth in an attempt to steel his jangled nerves, Grignr slid the
engraved slab from the vault with a sharp rasp of grinding stone.
Another long drawn cry of terror infested anguish met the
barbarian, scoring like the shrill piping of a demented banshee;
piercing the inner fibers of his superstitious brain with
primitive dread dread and awe.
Stooping over to taste the tomb's contents, the glittering
Ecordians were singed by the scorching aroma of a
moldering corpse, long shut up and fermenting; the same putrid
scent which permeated the entire chamber, though multiplied to a
much more concentrated dosage. The shriveled, leathery packet of
crumbling bones and dried flesh flesh offered no resistance,
but remained in a fixed position of perpetual vigilance, watching
over its dim abode from hollow gaping sockets.
The tortured crys were not coming from the tomb but from
some hidden depths below! Pulling the reaking corpse from its
resting place, Grignr tossed to the floor in a broken, mangled
heap. Upon one side of the crypt's bottom was attached a series
of tiny faces while running parallel to the opposite side of
a convex railing like protruberance; laid as it is to appear as a
Part of the interior surface of the sarcophagus.
Raising the slab upon its bronze slopes, long removed from
the gaze of human eyes, Grignr percieved a scene which caused his
blood to smolder not unlike bubbling, molten lava. Directly
below him a whimpering female lay stretched upon a smooth
surfaced marble altar. A pack of grassy faced shamen clustered
around in a tight circular formation. Crouched over the girl
what a tall, potbellied priest; his face dominated by a
disgusting, open mouthed grimace of sadistic glee. Suspended
from the acolyte's clenched right hand was a carving oval faced
mallet, which he waved menacingly over the girl's shadowed face;
an inferior gibberish flowing from his grinning, thick lipped
mouth.
In the face of the amorphous, broad breated female, stretched
out aluringly before his gaping eyes; the universal whim of
nature filing a plea of despair inside his white hot soul;
Grignr acted in the only manner he could perceive. Giving vent
to a hoarse, throat rending battle cry, Grignr plunged into the
midst of the startled shamen; Torch simmering in his left hand
andax twirling in his right hand.
A gaunt skull faced priest standing at the far side of the
altar clutched desperately at his throat, coughing furiously in
an attempt to catch his breath. Lurching helplessly to and fro,
the acolyte pitched headlong against the gleaming base of a
massive jade idol. Writhing agonizedly against the hideous
image, foam staining his chalk white lips, the priest struggled
helplessly - - - the victim of an epileptic siezure.
Startled by the barbarians stunning appearance, the chronic
fit of their fellow, and the fear that Grignr might be the
avantgarde of a conquering force dedicated to the cause of
destroying their degenerated cult, the saman momentarily lost
their composure. Giving vent to heedless pandemonium, the
priests fell easy prey to Grignr's sweeping arc of crimsoned
death and maiming distruction.
The acolyte performing the sacrifice took a vicious blow to
the stomach; hands clutching vitals and severed spinal cord as he
sprawled over the altar. The disor anized priests lurched and
staggered with split skulls, dismembered limbs, and spewing
entrails before the enraged Ecordian's relentless onslaught. The
howles of the maimed and dying reverberated against the walls of
the tiny chamber; a chorus of bright frought despair; as the
Granite floor ran red with blood. The entire chamber was
encompassed in the heat of raw savage butchery as Grignr
luxuriated in the grips of a primitive, beastly blood lust.
Presently all went silenet save for the ebbing groans of the
sinking shaman and Grignr's heaving breath by several
gusty curses. The well had run dry. No more lambs remained for
the slaughter.
The rampaging stead of death having been taken by Grignr for the
moment, left the barbarian free to the exploitation of his other
perusials. Towering over his head what the misshaped image of the
cult's hideous diety - - - Argon. The fantastic size of the idol
jade was enough to cause
the senses of any man to stagger and reel, yet thus was not the
case for the behemoth. he had paid only casual notice to this
Incredible fact, while riviting the whole of his attention upon
the jewel protruding from the idol's sole socket; its masterfully
cut faucets emitting blinding rays of hypnotizing beauty. nach
all, a man can not slink off a heavily guarded palace while
burdened down by the intense bulk of a squatting statue,
providing of course that the idol can be even, which in
fact what beyond the reach of Grignr's coarsing stamina. On the
other hand, the jewel, gigantic as it were, would not present a
hinderence of any mean concern.
"Help me ... please ... I can make it well worth your
while, "pleaded soft, anguish strewn voice wafting over
Grignr's shoulders as he plucked the dull red emerald from its
roots. Turning, Grignr
this blood bath, but whom had
heat of the battle.
"You"; ejaculated the Ecordian in a pleased tone. "I though
that I had seen the last of you at the tavern, but I was verilly
mistaken. "Grignr advanced into the grips of the female's
entrancing stare, severing the golden chain that hero ago
captive upon the altars highly polished face of ornamental
limestone.
As Grignr lifted the girl from the altar, her arms wound
dexterously about his neck; soft and smooth against his harsh
exterior. "Kind of pleased that we have chanced to meet once
again? "Grignr merely voiced to sighed grunt, returning the
damsels embrace while he smothered her trim, delicate lips
between the coarsing protrusions of his reeking maw.
"Let us take leave of this retched chamber." Stated Grignr
he he placed the female upon her feet. She swooned a moment,
causing Grignr to giver her support then regained her stance.
"Art thou able to find your way through the accursed passages of
this castle? Mrifk! Every one of the corridors of this damned
place are identical. "
"Aye: I was at one time a slave of prince Agaphim
clammy touch a sour swill through my belly, but my efforts
reaped a harvest. I gained the pig's liking to be allowed
me the freedom of the palace. It means that I
eventually managed escape at the western gate. His trust found
him with a dagger thrust his ribs, "the wench stated
whimsicoracally.
"What were you doing at the tavern whence I discovered you?"
asked Grignr as he lifted the woman through the opening into the
mausoleum.
"I've been to lay low on the palace's guards as they
Conducted their search for me. The tavern was seldom frequented
by the palace guards and my identity what unknown to the common
soldiers. It was through the disturbance that you got that
the palace guards were attracted to the tavern. I was dragged
After a short while you were escorted to the palace. "
"What are you calling by female?"
"Carthena, daughter of Minkardos, Duke of Barwego, whose
lands border along the northwestern fringes of Gorzom. I what
paid as homage to Agaphim upon his thirty-eighth year, "husked
the femme!
"And I am called a barbarian!" Grunted Grignr in a disgusted
Tone!
"Aye! The ways of our civilization are warped in many ways
and distorted, but what is your calling, "she queried, bustily?
"Grignr of Ecordia."
"Ah, I've heard vaguely of Ecordia
country to the east of the Noregolean Empire. I have so
heard Agaphim curse your country more than once when his troops were
routed in the unaccustomed mountains and gorges. "Sayeth she.
"Aye. My people are not tarnished by petty luxuries and
baubles. They remain fierce and unconquerable in their native
climes "After reaching the hidden panel at the head of the
stairway, Grignr was at a loss regarding its operation. His
fiercest heaves were as pebbles against burnished armor!
Carthyna depressed a small symbol included in the elaborate
design on the panel whereopen it slowly slid into a cleft in
the wall. "How did you come to be the victim of those crazed
Shamen? "Quested Grignr as he escorted Carthena through the piles
of rummage on the left side of the trap.
"By Agaphim's orders I was thrust into a secluded cell to
await his passing. By some means, the Priests of
Argon acquired a set of keys to the cell. They slew the guard
placed over me and abducted me to the chamber in which you
chanced to come upon the scozsctic sacrifice. Their bright spawned
cult demands a sacrifice once every three moons upon its full
Journey through the heavens. They were started by yours
unannounced appearance through the fear that you have been sent by
Agaphim. The prince would surely have submitted them to the most
ghastly of tortures if he had ever discovered their
unfaithfulness to Sargon, his bastard diety. Many of the
Partakers of the ritual were high nobles and high trustees of the
inner palace; Agaphim's pittiless wrath would have been
unparalled. "
"They have no more fear of Agaphim now!" Bellowed Grignr
in a deep mirthful tome; a gleeful smirk on his face. "I have
Seen that they were delivered from his vengence. "
Engrossed by Carthena's graceful stride and conversation
Grignr failed to take note of the footfalls rapidly approaching
behind him. As swung aside the arched portal linking the
chamber with the corridors beyond, a maddened, blood lusting
screech reverberated from his ear drums. Seemingly utilizing the
speed of thought, Grignr swiveled to face his unknown foe. with
gaping eyes and widened jaws, grignr raised his ax above his
surly my; but he was too late.

-7-

With wobbling knees and head, the priest that had
unsteadily to his feet.
While enacting his choking fit in writhing agony, the shaman was
overlooked by Grignr. The barbarian had mistaken the siezure for
the death throes of the acolyte, allowing the priest to avoid his
stinging blade. The sight of the priests inflamed eyes
nearly served to sprawl him upon the floor once more. The
sacrificial sat it grim, blood splattered silence all around him,
broken only by the occasional yelps and howles of his maimed and
butchered fellows. Above his head rose the hideous idol, its
empty socket holding the shaman's ifurbished infuriated gauze.
His eyes turned to a stoney glaze with the realization of the
pillage and blasphemy. Due to his high sucessibility
the siezure, the priest which transformed into a raving maniac bent
soley upon reaking vengeance. With lips curled and quivering, a
crust of foam dripping from them, the acolyte drew a long, wicked
looking for a jewel hilarious scimitar from his silver girdle and fled
through the aperature in the ceiling uttering a faintly
perceptible ceremonial jibberish.

-7 1/2

A sweeping scimitar swung toward Grignr's head in a
shadowed blur of motion. With Ax raised over his head, Grignr
prepared to parry the blow while gaping wide-eyed in open mouthed
perplexity. Suddenly a sharp snap resounded behind the frothing
shaman. The scimitar, halfway through its fatal sweep, dropped
from a quivering nerveless hand, clattering harmlessly to the
stoneage. Cutting his screech short with a bubbling, red mouthed
gurgle, the lacerated acolyte staggered under the pressure of the
released spring-board. After a moment of hopeless struggling,
the shaman buckled, sprawling face down in a widening pool of
bllod and entrails, his regal purple robe blending enhancingly
with the swirling streams of crimson.
"Mrifk! I thought I had killed the last of those dogs;"
Mother Grignr in a helped apathetic state.
"Nay Grignr." You doubtless grew careless while giving vent
to your lusts. But let us not tarry any longest we over tax
the fates. The paths leading to freedom will soon be barred.
The wretch's crys must have attracted unwanted
attention, "the wench mused.
"By what direction shall we pursue our flight?"
"Up that stair and down the corridor a short distance is the
concealed enterance to a tunnel
prince, and known to save others the palace's royalty. It is
used mainly by the prince when he wishes to take leave of the
Palace in secret. It is not always in the Prince's best
His interest is to chat in public view. Even while under
heavy guard is often assaulted by hurtling stones and rotting
fruits. The commoners have little love for him. "
nerelady!
"It's amazing that they have left a pig like him
become their ruler. I should imagine that his people would rise
up and crucify him like the dog he is. "
"Alas, Grignr, it is not as simple as all that
Soldiers are well paid by him. So long as he keeps their wages
up they want to carry out his damned wished. The crude impliment
of the commonfolk would never stand up under an onslaught of
forged blades and protective armor; they would be going to their
own slaughter, "stated Carthena to a confused, but angry Grignr
they are topped the stairway.
"Yet how can they bear to live under such oppression?"
would sooner be under the sword than live under such a dog's
command. "added Grignr as the pair stalked down the hall in the
direction opposite that in which Grignr had come.
"But all of you are born,
they choose to live as they are so as to save their filthy necks
from the chopping block. "Returned Carthena in a disgusted tone
he cast an appended glance towards the stalwart figure at
side whose left arm was wounded dextrously about her slim waist;
his slowly waning torch casting their images in intermingling
wisps as it dangles from his left hand.
Presently Carthena came upon the panel, concealed amonst the
other granite slabs and discernable only by the burned out
cresset above it. "I push the cresset aside push the panel
inwards. "Catrhena motioned to the panel
twisted the cresset in a counterclockwise motion. Grignr braced
his right shoulder against the wall, concentrating the force
of his bulk against it. The slab slow swung inward with a
slight grating sound. Carthena stooped beneath Grignr's corded
arms and crawlies upon all fours into the passage beyond. Grignr
Followed by easing the slab back into place.
Winding before the pair what a dark musty tunnel, exhibiting
tangled spider webs from it ceiling to wall and an oozing, sickly
Slime running lazily upon its floor. Hanging from the chipped
wall upon GrignR's right side was a half mouldered corpse, its
gray flacking arms hero in place by rusted iron manacles.
Carthena flings back into Grignr's arms at the sight of the leering
set in an ugly distorted grimmace; staring horribly at her from
hollow gaping sockets.
"This alcove must be used by Agaphim as a torture
chamber. I wonder how many of his enemies have disappeared into
these haunts never again, "pondered the hulking
brute.
"Let us flee before we are so caught within Agaphim's
ghastly clutches. The exit from this tunnel can not be very far
from here! "Said Carthena with a slight sob to her voice, as she
Said in Grignr's encompasing embrace.
"Aye, it wants to be finished with this corridor as
soon as it is possible. But why do you flinch from the sight of
death like that? Mrift! You have seen much death this day without
exhibiting such emotions. "Exclaimed Grignr as he led
Trembling form along the thingy confines.
"--- The man hanging from the wall was Doyanta
committed the folly of affecting for me in front of
Agaphim --- he never meant any harm by his actions!
Carthena broke into a slow steady whimpering, chokking her voice
with gasping sobs. "There's nothing between us yet
Agaphim did this to him! The beast! May the demons of hell's
deepest haunts claw away at his wretched flesh for this merciless
act! "she prayed.
"I detect that you felt more for this fellow than you wish
to let on ... but enough of this, we can talk of such matters
after that we are more free to do so. "With this Grignr lifted
the grieved female to her feet and straws onward down the
corridor, supporting the bulk of his weight with his surging left
poor.
Presently a dim light which is perceptibly filtered into the
tunnel, casting a dim reddish hue upon the moldy wall of the
Passage's grim confines. Carthena had ceased her whimpering and
partially regained her composure. "The tunnel's end must be
nearing. Rays of sunlight are beginning to seep into ... "
Grignr clammed his right hand over Carthena's mouth and with
a slight struggle pulled over to the shadows at the right
hand wall of the path while thrusting this at the same time
Torch beneath an overhanging stone to smother its flickering
rays. "Be silent; I can hear approaching through the
tunnel; "growled Grignr in a hushed tone.
"All that hears the horses is corraled at the far end of
the tunnel. That is another sign that we are nearing ours
goal. "She stated!
"I hear footsteps."
coming towards us. Silence yourself that we may find out whom we
are being brought into contact with. I doubt that any would have
thought as yet of this passage for us. The advantage
wants to be on our side. "Grignr warned.
Carthena cast her eyes down and ceased any further
pursuit towards conversation, at irritating habit in which she
had gained an amazing proficiency. Two figures came into the
a couple in the tunnel. They were clothed
in richly luxurious silks and rambling o on in conversation while
ignorant of their crouching foes waiting in an ambush ahead.
"... That barbarian dog is cringing beneath the weight of the
lash at this moment. He will cause no more disturbance. "
"Aye, and so it is with anyone who crosses the path of
Sargon's chosen one. "Said the 2nd man.
"But the peasants are showing signs of growing unrest
complain that they can not
your taxes. "
"I shall teach those sluts the meaning of humility!
an immediate increase upon their taxes. They dare to question my
sovereign authority, Ha-a, they shall learn soon what true
oppression can be. I will ... "
A shodowed bulk leapt from behind a jutting promontory as it
brought down a double edged ax with the spped of a striking
thought. One of the nobles sagged lifeless to the ground, skull
split to the teeth.
Grignr gasped as he sees the bisected face set in his
leering death agonies. It was Agafnd! The dead mans comrade
drew a jewel encrusted dagger
from beneath the folds of his robe and lunged towards the
barbarians back. Grignr spun at the sound from behind and
smashed down his crimsoned ax once more. His antagonist lunged
howling to a stream of stagnant green water, grasping a spouting
stump that had once been a wrist. Grignr raises his ax over his
head and prepaired to finish the incomplete job, but was detered
halfway through his lunge by a frenzied screech from behind.
Carthena leaps to the head of the writhing figure, plunging
a smoldering torch into the agonized face. The howls increased
in their horrid intensity, stifled by the sizzling of roasting
flesh, then the down until the man was reduced to a blubbering
mass of squirming, insensate flesh.
Grignr advance to Carthena's side wincing slightly from the
putrid aroma of charred flesh that rose in a puff of thick white
smog throughout the chamber. Carthena reeled slightly, staring
dasedly downward at her gruesome handywork. "I had to do it ...
it was Agaphim ... I had to, "she exclaimed!
"Sargon should be more carful of his right hand men." Added
Grignr, a smug grin upon his lips. "But to hell with Sargon for
now, the stench is becoming bothersome to me. "With that Grignr
Carthena walks around the waist
the cave and into the open.
A ball of feral red rising through the mists of the
eastern horizon, disparaging the slinking shadows of the night. A
coral stood before the pair, enclosing two grazing mares. Grignr
reached into a weighted down leather pouch dangling at his side
and drew forth the scintillant red emerald he had received from
the bloated idol. He said, "We shall
do well with bauble, eh! "
Carthena gaped at the same gasping in a terrified manner "The
Eye of Argon, Oh! Kalla! "
glow, then dribbled through Grignr's fingers in a slimy red ooze.
Grignr stepped back, Carthena pushing him. The droplets
of slime slowly converging into a jelly-like mass. A
single opening transfixed the blob, forminf into a leechlike maw.
Then the hideous transgressor of nature flowed towards
Grignr, a trail of greenish slime lingering behind it. The
single gap puckered.missing a ghastly sucking sound.
Grignr spread his legs into a battle stance, steeling his
quivering thews for a battle royal with a thing he knew how
to fight. Carthena wound her arms about her protectors neck,
mumbling, "kill it! kill!" While her entire body is trembled.
Grignr when he buried his ax into
the gristly maw. It passed through the blob and clenched upon the
ground. Grignr drew his ax back with a yellow-green film
Slime clinging to the blade. The thing was seemingly unaffected.
Then it started to slooze up his leg. The hairs upon his nape
stande on end from the sleazy feel of the things buly, bulk. The
Nautous sucking sound became louder, and Grignr felt the blood
being drawn from his body. With each hiss of hideous pucker the
thing increased in size.
Grignr shook his foot about madly in an attempt to dislodge
the blob, but it clung like a leech, still feeding upon his
rapidly draining life fluid. He is trying with his hands
rip it off, but only found his hand entangled in a sickly
like substance. The slimey thing continued its puckering; now
having grown the size of Grignr's leg from its vampire feast.
Grignr began to reel and stagger under the blob, his chalk
white face and faltering muscles attesting to the gigantic loss
of blood. Cartagena slipped from Grignr into a death-like faint, a
morrow chilling scream upon her red ruby lips. In final
desperation Grignr grasped the smoldering torch upon the ground
and plunged it into the reeking maw of the travesty. A shudder
passed through the thing. Grignr felt the blackness closing upon
his eyes, but on the ebb of his fast waning
vitality. He could feel his grip lessoning as a hideous gurgling
sound erupted from the writhing maw. The jelly like mass began
to bubble like a vat of boiling tar as quavers passed up and down
its entire form.
 
always,
and i mean always,
remember to skim the post and just look for the dialogue

who cares if the other character literally just got in the car and drove away? you talk to them like they’re still there. that’ll teach your roleplay partner for writing 3 paragraphs.
 
Abandon a roleplay midway if your partner does something you don't like, better yet, if a big plot point is about to be given, just leave.
 
Control your partner's character! Trust me, they'll appreciate you asserting your dominance! They didn't care about their character anyways, you can just go ahead and kill them.
 
Remember that the best characters are the ones with no conceivable flaws. They must be loved by all and effortlessly solve all their problems. Mary Sue-ness is the highest honor a character can achieve.
 
When playing D&D make sure that you always correct the DM when it comes to the rules, especially when they exclusively say that this is a homebrew and doesn't follow traditional rules. Gotta make sure that no one commits blasphem against the holy text of D&D.
 
Have all characters have one name. If there is something unique about a character sheet, steal that and brag and insult the guy who originally have that.

Always remember to think you are a special little flower that none can criticize.if they do ,hit them with your gender and organize a discord for your white knights to troll the hell out of them.
------------
Make a character that has Vague OP powers. If the GM question it, don't fret just make a bullshit science-y explanation as a counter. If someone call you out on your bullshit science, contradict yourself and argue that it doesn't matter since all powers are fiction.

If GM and other players insist on getting a concise and normal power within the limit set by the game for your Mary Sue, use circle arguments to bullshit them before being forced to edit your work.

Do such thing three times.

-----------
 
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Okay, so I'm gonna lay down some RP GOLD!

All you need is one paragraph, about four to five characters but never ever refer to the characters by name or description. Just pronouns....
 
The best way to make an rp great is to make sure alllll the focus is on you and your characters, because obviously you are the best and most interesting part of the rp and everyone else should be ashamed for thinking any different~

(this thread is just vague shit talking I love it)
 
Polyblank said:
Hehuah.

MAY I PRESENT TO YOU: HOW TO PURPLE PROSE.

The Eye of Argon

THE EYE OF ARGON

by Jim Theis

The weather beaten trail wound into the dust racked
climes of the baren land which dominates large portions of the
Norgolian empire. Age worn hoof prints smothered by the sifting
sands of time shone dully against the dust splattered crust of
earth. The tireless sun cast its parching rays of incandescense
from overhead, helped way through its daily revolution. small
rodents scampered about, occupying themselves in the daily
accomplishments of their dismal lives. Dust sprayed over three
while they are boring the burdonsome
cargoes of their struggling overseers.
"Prepare to embrace your creators in the stygian haunts of
bright, barbarian ", gasped the first soldier.
"Only after you have kissed the flashing stead of death,
wretch! "returned Grignr.
A sweeping blade of flashing steel riveted from the massive
barbarians hide enameled shield as his rippling right arm thrust
forth, sending a steel blade to the hilt into the soldiers
vital organs. The disemboweled mercenary crumpled from his
saddle and sank to the clouded sward, sprinkling the parched dust
with crimson droplets of escaping life fluid.
The enthused barbarian swilveled about, his shock of fiery
red hair tossing sturdy in the humid air currents as he faced
the attack of the defeated soldier's fellow in arms.
"Damn you, barbarian" Shrieked the soldier as he observed
his comrade in death.
A gleaming scimitar smote a heavy blow against the
Renegade's spiked helmet, carrying a heavy cloud over the
Ecordian's misting brain. Shaking off the effects of the
Grignr brings down his scarlet
streaked edge against the soldier's crudely forged hauberk,
clanging harmlessly to the left side of his opponent. The
soldier's stead whinnied as he directed the horse back from the
driving blade of the barbarian. Grignr leashed his mount forward
he hoarsely piercing battle cry of his wilderness bred race
resounded from his graduation. A twirling blade bounced
harmlessly from the mighty thief's buckler as his rolling right
Ripping
through the Simarian's exposed gullet. A gasping gurgle from the
soldier's writhing mouth as he tumbled to the golden sand at his
feet, and wormed agonizingly in his death bed.
Grignr's emerald green orbs glared lustfully at the
wallowing soldier struggling before his chestnut swirled mount.
His scowling voice reverberated over the dying form in a tone of
mocking mirth. "You city bred dogs should not learn to
antagonize your better. "Reining his weary mount ahead, grignr
resumed his journey to the Noregolian city of Gorzam, hoping to
discover wine, women, and adventure to boil the wild blood
coarsing through his savage veins.
The trek to Gorzom was forced upon Grignr when the soldiers
of Crin were leashed upon him by a faithless concubine he had
wooed. His scandalous activities throughout the Simarian city
had unleashed throngs of havoc and uproar among it's refined
patricians, leading them to tack a heavy reward over his head.
He had barely managed to escape through the back entrance of the
inn he had been guzzling in, as a squad of soldiers to
him. After spilling a spout of blood from the leader of the
mercenaries as he dismisses one of the officers' arms, he
Gorzom, rumored
to contain hoards of plunder, and many young people
who has the backbone to wrest them away.

-2-

Arriving after dusk in Gorzom, grignr descended down a dismal
Alley, reining his horse before a beaten tavern. The redhaired
giant strode into the dimly lit hostelry reeking of foul odors,
and cheap wine. The air was heavy with chocking fumes spewing
from smolderingtorches encased within theden's earthen packed
walls. Tables were clustered with groups of drunken thieves, and
cutthroats, tossing dice, or making love to be willing prostitutes.
Eyeing a slender female crouched alone at a nearby bench,
Grignr advanced wishing to wholesomely occupy his time. The
flickering torches cast weird shafts of luminescence dancing over
the half naked harlot of his choice, her stringy orchid twines of
hair swaying gracefully over the lithe opaque nose, as she raised
a drained mug to her pale red lips.
Glancing upward, the alluring complexion noted the stalwart
giant as he approached quickly. A faint mica sparked from the
pair of deep blue ovals of the amorous female as she motioned
Grignr, enticing him to join her. The barbarian seated
himself upon a stool at the white side, exposing his body,
naked save for a loin cloth brandishing a long steel broad sword,
an iron leather battle helmet, and a thick leather sandals, to
her unobstructed view.
"You have need to occupy your time, barbarian", questioned
the female?
"Only if something worth offering is within my reach."
Staged Grignr, as his hands crept to embrace the tempting female,
who welcomed you with open willingness.
"From where you come barbarian, and by what are you
called? "Gasped the complying wench, as Grignr smothered her lips
with the blazing touch of his flaming mouth.
The engrossed titan ignored the queries of the inquisitive
female, pulling her towards him and crushing her sagging nipples
to his yearning chest. She gave in, winding forth
soft arms around the harshly bronzedhide of Grignr corded
shoulder blades, as his callous hands caressed her firm
protruding busts.
"You make love well wench," Admitted Grignr as he reached
for the vessel of potent wine his batch had been quaffing.
Grignr had taken hold of,
sending its blood sloshing over a flickering
crescent; leashing tongues of bright orange flame to the foot
trodden floor.
"Remove yourself Sirrah, the wench belongs to me;" Blabbered
a drunken soldier, too consumed by the influence of his
virile brew to take note of the superior size of his adversary.
Grignr lithly bounded from the startled female, his face lit
up to an ashen red, and eyes locked in a searing feral
blaze towards the swaying soldier.
"To hell with you, braggard!" Bellowed the angeed Ecordian,
he heeded his finely honed broad sword.
The staggering soldier clumsily reached the pommel
of his dangling sword, but before his hands ever touched the
oaken hilt a silvered flash was slicing the heavy air. Thews
of the savages lashing right arm out of the glistening
bronzed hide as his blade bit into the soldier's neck,
loping off the confused head of his senseless tormentor.
With a nauseating thud the severed oval toppled to the
floor, as the segregated torso of Grignr's bovine antagonist
swayed, then collapsed into a pool of swirled crimson.
In the confusion the soldier's fellows confronted Grignr
with unsheathed cutlasses, directed toward the latters scowling
make up.
"The slut should have taken his quarry more carefully!"
Roared the victor in a mocking baritone growl, as he wiped his
dripping blade on the prostrate form, and returned it to its
scabbard.
"The fool should have shown more prudence, however you shall
rue your actions while rotting in the pits. "Stated one of the
sprawled soldier's comrades.
Grignr's hand began to remove his blade from its leather
housing, but retarded the motion in the face of the blades waving
before his face.
"Dismiss your hand from the hilt, barbarian, or you shall
find a foot of steel sheathed in your gizzard. "
Grignr weighed his position observing his plight, where-upon
he took the soldier's advice as the only logical choice. to
attempt to hack his way from his present predicament could only
warrant certain death. Hey, no mind to bring upon his own
demise if an alternate path presented itself. The will to
necessitate his life
hopes of a moment of carelessness later on the part of his
captors in which he could effect more plausible means of
escape.
"You may steady your arms, I want to go without a struggle."
"Your decision is a wise one, or perhaps you would have
been better off had you forced death, "the soldier's mouth
wrinkled to a sadistic grin of knowing mirth as he prodded his
prisoner on his sword point.
After an indiscriminate period of marching through slinking
alleyways and dim moonlighted streets the procession confronted a
massive seraglio. The palace area was surrounded by an iron
grating, with a lush garden upon all sides.
The group was admitted through the gilded gateway and Grignr
what ledalong a stone pathway bordered by plush vegitation
lustfully enhanced by the moon's shimmering rays. Upon reaching
the palace the group
minutes of explanation, led through several winding corridors to
a richly draped chamber.
Confronting the group what a short stocky man sitting on
golden throne. Tapestries of richly draped shelf blue silk
covered all walls of the chamber
Thrones were plated with sparkling white ivory. The man upon the
throne had a naked wench seated at each of his arms, and a
Trusted Advisor seated in back of him. At each cornwr of the
chamber a guard at attention, with upraised pikes supported
in their hands, golden chainmail adorning their torso's and
barred helmets scarlet plumes enshrouding their heads.
The man rose from his throne to the dias surrounding it. His
plush turquois robe dangled loosely from his chuncky frame.
The soldiers surrounding Grignr fell to their knees with
Heads bowed to the stone masonry of the floor in fearful dignity
to their sovereign, leige.
"Explain the purpose of this intrusion upon my chateau!"
"Your sirenity, resplendent in noble grandeur, we have
brought this yokel before you (the soldier gestured toward
Grignr) for the redress or your all knowing wisdon in judgment
regarding his fate. "
"Down on your knees, lout, and pay proper homage to your
sovereign! "commanded the pudgy noble of Grignr.
"By the surly beard of Mrifk, Grignr kneels to no man!"
scowled the massive barbarian.
"You dare to deal with this blasphemous act to me!
indeed good stranger, yet your valor smacks of foolishness. "
"I find you to be the only fool, sitting upon your pompous
throne, enhancing the rolling flab of your belly in the midst of
your elaborate luxuryand ... "The soldier standing at Grignr's
side smote him heavily in the face with the flat of his sword,
cutting short the harsh words and knocking his battered helmet to
the masonry with an echo-ing clang.
The paunchy noble's sagging round face flushed suddenly
pale, then pasty lit up to a lustrous cherry red radiance. His
Lips trembled with malicious rage, now a muffled
sibilant gibberish. His sagging flabs rolled like a tub of upset
jelly, then compressed as he sucked in his gut in an attempt to
conceal his softness.
The prince regained his statue, then spoke to the soldiers
surrounding grignr, his face conforming to an ugly expression of
sadistic humor.
"Take this uncouth heathen to the vault of misery, and be
sure that his agonies are long and drawn out before death can
release him. "
"As you wish, your command shall be heeded
immediately, "answered the soldier on the right of Grignr as he
stared into the barbarians seemingly unaffected face.
The Advisor seated in the back of the noble slowly rose and
advanced to the side of his master, motioning the wenches seated
at his side to remove themselves. He lowered his head and
whispered to the noble.
"Eminence, the punishment you have decreed will cause much
misery to this scum, yet it will only last a short time, then
release him to a country beyond the sufferings of the human body.
Why not mellow him in one of the subterranean vaults for a few
days, then send him to life lab in one of your buried mines.
To one such as he, a life spent in the confinement of the stygian
pits wants to be an infinitely more appropiate and lasting torture. "
The noble cupped his drooping double chin in the folds of
his briming palm, meditating for a moment upon the rationality of
the councilor's word's, then raised his shaggy brown eyebrows and
turned toward the advisor, eyes aglow.
"... As always Agafnd, you speak with great wisdom
words of great knowledge concerning the nature of one search
hey, "sayeth, the king. The noble turned toward the prisoner
with a noticeable shimmer reflecting in his frog-like eyes, and
his lips contorting to a greasy grin. "I have decided to void my
previous decree. The prisoner must be removed to one of the
palaces underground vaults. There he will stay until I have
decided that he has simmered, whereupon he is to be
allowed to spend the remainder of his days at lab in one of my
mines. "
Upon hearing this, Grignr realized that he would be fate
far less merciful than death to one as he he who is used to
roaming the countryside at will. A life of confinement would be
more than his body and mind could stand up to. This type of life
would be immeasurably worse than death.
"I will never understand the ways if your twisted
civilization. I simply defend my honor and condemned to life
confinement, by a pig who sits on his royal ass wooing whores,
and knows nothing of the affairs of the land he imagines to
rule! "Lectures Grignr?
"Enough of this! Away with the slut before I loose my
control! "
Seeing the peril of his position, Grignr searched for
opening. Crushing prudence to the sward, he plowed into the
Soldier at his left arm taking hold of his sword, and bounding to
the dias supporting the prince before the startled guards could
regain their composure. Agafnd leaved Grignr and his sire, but
found a sword blade permeating the length of his ribs before he
could be loosed his weapon.
The councilor slumped to his knees as Grignr slid his
crimsoned blade from Agfnd's rib cage. The fat prince stood
undulating in insurmountable fear before the edge of the fiery
maned comet, his flabs of jellied blubber, pulsating to and fro in
ripples of flowing terror.
"Where is your wisdom and power now, your magjesty?" growled
Grignr.
The prince went rigid as Grignr discerned him glazing over
his shoulder. He swallows the cause of the noble's
attention, raised his sword over his head, and prepared to leash
a vicious downward cleft, but fell short as the haft of a steel
Rimed pike clashed against his unguarded skull. Then blackness
and solitude. Silence enshrouding and ever peaceful reind
supreme.
"Before me, sirrah! Before me as always! Ha, Ha Ha,
Haaaa ... ", nobly cackled.

-3-

Consciousness returned to Grignr at stygmatic pools as his
mind gradually cleared of the cobwebs cluttering its inner
recesses, yet the stygian cloud of charcoal ebony. At
incompatible shield of blackness, enhanced by the bleak abscense
of sound.
Grignr's muddled brain reeled from the shock of the blow
had recieved the base of his skull. The events leading to his
predicament were slow to filter back to him. Hey dickered with
the notion that he was dead and had sunk, however it
may be, to the shadowed land beyond the aperature of the
grave, but rejected this hypothesis when his memory sifted back
within his grips. This was not the land of the dead, it was
something infinitely more precarious than anything the grave
could offer. Death promised infinity of peace, not the finite
misery of an inactive life of confined torture, forever concealed
from the life shafts of the beloved rising sun. The orb
cherished above, yet now cherished above
all else. To be happy again glimpses of the snow
capped summits of the land of his birth, never again to witness
the thrill of plundering unexplored lands beyond the crest of a
bleeding horizon, and perhaps worst of all the denial to ever
again encompass the lustful excitement of caressing the naked
curves of the body of a trim yound wench.
This was indeed one of the buried chasms of Hell concealed
within the inner depths of the palace's despised interior. A
fearful ebony chamber devised to drive to the brinks of insanity
the minds of the moment condemned, through the inapt
solitude of a limbo of listless dreary silence.

-3 1/2

A tightly elliptical circle or torches cast their
wavering shafts prancing morbidly over the smooth surface of a
rectangular, ridged old. Expertly chisled forms of grotesque
gargoyles graced the oblique rim protruberating the length of the
grim orifice of death, staring forever into nothingness in
complete ignorance of the bloody rites enacted in their
prescence. Brown flaking stains decorated the golden surface of
the ridge surrounding the age, which is banked to a small slit at
the lower right hand corner of the altar. The slit stood above a
crudely pounded pail which had several silver meshed chalices
hanging at its side. Dangling at the rim of golden mallet, the
handle of which was engraved with images of twisted faces and
grooved at its far end with slots designed for a snug hand grip.
The head of the mallet was slightly larger than a clenched fist
and shaped into a smooth oval mass.
Encircling the marble altar was a congregation of leering
shamen. Eerie chants of a bygone age, originating unknown eons
before the memory of man, were being uttered from the buried
recesses of the acolyte's deep lings. Orange paint was smeared
in generous globules over the tops of thw priests' wrinkled
shaven scalps, while golden rings projected from the lobes of
their pink ears. Ornate robes of lusciour purple satin enclosed
their bulging torsos attached to their waists with silvered
Ebony buckles in the shape of morose
mis-shaped skulls. Dangling around their necks were oval
fashoned medalions hero by thin gold chains, featuring in their
centers blood red ruby which resembled crimson fetish eyeballs.
Cushoning her bare feet were plush red felt slippers with
pointed golden spikes projecting from their tips.
Located in front of the altar, and directly adjacent to the
copper pail was a massive jade idol; a misshaped, hideous bust of
the shamens' pagan diety. The shimmering green idol was placed
in a sitting posture on an ornately carved golden throne raised
upon a round, dvory plated dias; it bulging arms and webbed hands
resting on the padded arms of the seat. Its head was entwined in
golden snake-like coils hanging over its oblong ears, which
taped off to thin hollow points. Its nose was a bulging
triangular mass, sunken at its sides with tow gaping nostrils.
Dramatic beneath the nostrils what a twisted, shaggy lipped mouth,
giving the impression of a slovering sadistic grimace.
At the foot of the heathen diety a slender, pale faced
female, naked but for a golden, jeweled harness enshrouding forth
huge outcropping breasts, supporting long silver laces which
extended to her thigh, standing before the pearl white field with
noticable shivers traveling up and down the length of time
exquisitely molded body. Her delicate lips trembled beneath soft
Narrow hands as she attends to conceal herself from the piercing
stare of the ambivalent idol.
Glaring straight down to her what the stoney, cycloptic
face of the bloated diety. Gaping from its single obling socket
what scintillating, many fauceted scarlet emerald, a brilliant gem
to have a life all its own. A priceless gleaming
stone, capable of domineering the wealth of conquering
empires ... the eye of argon.

-4-

All knowledge of measuring time had escaped Grignr. When a
person is deprived of the sun, moon, and stars, he looses all
conception of time. It seemed
as if years were passed
misery and mental anguish
only a few days in length. He slept three times and had
been fed five times since his awakening in the crypt. HOWEVER,
when the actions of the body are restricted its needs are also
affected. The need for nourishmnet and slumber are directly
proportional to the functions the body has performed, meaning
Grignr may become hungry every six
hours and witness the desire for sleep every fifteen hours,
while in his present condition he may encounter the need for
food every ten hours, and the want for rest every twenty hours.
All methods he had before depended upon were extinct in the
dismal pit. It has been been imprisoned for ten minutes
or ten years, he did not know, resulting in a disheartened
emotion deep within his being.
The food, if you can honor the moldering lumps of fetid mush
to that extent, what born to him by two guards who opened a portal
at the top of his enclosure and looking at him in wooden bowls,
retrieving the food and water bowls from his previous meal at
the same time, after which they threw back the bolt on the iron
latch and returned to their other duties. Since deprived of all
other means of nourishment, Grignr what impelled to eat the
tainted slop in order to ward off the paings of starvation,
though he stuffed it into his mouth with his filthy fingers
he struggled to force it down his throat, he imagined it was
that which has been spelled out by the hounds stationed at various
segments of the palace.
There was little in the bar vault that could occupy his
body or mind. He had paced out of the length and width of the
enclosure time and time again and tested every granite slab which
consisted of the walls in the hopes of finding a hidden
passage to freedom, all which is to no avail other than to
keep him busy and distract his mind from wandering to thoughts of
what he believed in his future. He had memorized the number of
strides from one end to the other of the cell, and knew the exact
number of slabs which made up the bleak dungeon. numorous
schemes were introduced and alternately discarded in turn as they
succored to unravel to him no
slightest chance of success.
Anguish continued to be used as a means of occupation were
exhausted. Suddenly without no tive, he was ruled from
his contemplations as he detected a faint scratching sound at the
end of the crypt opposite him. The sound seemed to be caused by
something trying to scrape away at the grantite blocks the floor
of the enclosure consisted of, the sandy scratching of something
like at animal's claws.
Grignr gradually groped his way to the other end of the world
Vault carefully feeling his way along with his hands ahead of
him. When a few inches from the wall, a loud, penetrating
Squeal, and the scampering of small padded feet. Reverberated from
the walls of the roughly hewn chamber.
Grignr threw his hands up to shield his face, and flung
himself backwards upon his buttocks. A fuzzy form bounded to his
hairy chest, burying its talons in his flesh while gnashing
to his throat with his teeth
breath scortching the sqirming barbarians dilating nostrils.
Grignr grappled with the lashing flexor muscles of the repugnant
body of a garganan brownhided rat, striving to hold its razor
teeth from his juicy jugular, as his beady gray organs of sight
glazed into the flaring emeralds of its prey.
Taking hold of the rodent around its lean, growling stomach
Grignr pried it from his crimson rent breast,
removing small patches of flayed flesh from his chest in the
motion between the squalid black claws of the starving beast.
Holding the rodent at arms length, he cupped his right hand over
his frothing face, contricting his fingers into a vice-like fist
over the quivering head. Retaining his grips on the council, grignr
flexed his outstretched arms while slowly twisting his right hand
clockwise and his left hand counterclockwise motion. The rodent
let a tortured squall, drawing scarlet as it violently dug
its foam flecked fang into the barbarians
his face to contort to ugly grimace as he cursed beneath his
braeth.
With a loud crack the rodents head parted from its squirming
torso, sending out a sprinkling shower of crimson gore, and
trailing a slimy string of disjointed vertebrae, snapped trachea,
esophagus, and jugular, disjointed hyoid bone, morose purpled
stretched hide, and blood seared muscles.
Flinging the broken body to the floor, Grignr shook his
blood streaked hands and wiped them against his thigh till dry,
then wiped the blood that had been showered his face and from his
eyes. Again sitting himself on the jagged floor, he prepared
to revamp his glum meditations. He said himself that
as long as he still breathes the gust of life through his lungs,
hope was not lost; he just said this, but found it hard to
comprehend in his gloomy surroundings. Yet he was still alive,
his bulging sinews at their peak of marvel, his struggling mind
floating in a miracle of impressed excellence of thought. plot
after being sifted through his mind in energetic contemplations.
Then it hit him. Minutes may have passed in silent thought
or days, he could not tell, but he stumbled at last upon a plan
that he considers as having a slight margin of plausibility.
He might not have submitted in the attempt, but he did not
without a final bloody struggle. It was not a foolproof plan,
yet it is built up in a store of renewed vortexed energy in his
overwroughtsoul, though he might perish in the execution of the
escape, he would be the life of infinite torture
in store forhim. Either way he would still cheat the gloating
prince of the succored revenge his sadistic mind craved so
dearly.
The guards would soon come to him off to the prince's
buried mines of dread, giving him the sought after opportunity to
execute his newly formulated plan. Groping his way along the
rough floor Grignr finally found his tool in a pool of congealed
gore; the carcass of the decapitated rodent; the tool that the
very filth he had been sentenced too, spawned. When the time
came for action he would have to be prepared, so he set himself
to rending the sticky hulk in grim silence, searching by the
touch of his fingertips for the lever to freedom.

-5-

"Up to the altar and be done with it wench;" ordered a
fidgeting shaman as he gave the female a grim stare accompanied
by the wrinkling of his lips to a mirthful grin of delight.
The girl bursts into a slow steady whimper, stooping shakily
to be kneeling and cringing woefully from the priest with both arms
jade jade shin rising before
her scantily attired figure. Her face was redly inflamed from
The salty flow of tears spouting from her glassy dilated
eyeballs.
With short, heavy footfalps the priest approached the female,
his piercing stare never wavering from her quivering young
countenance. Halting the terrified girl he projected his
arm outward and motioned to rise with an upward movement of
his hand. the girl's whimpering increased slightly and she sunk
closer to the floor. The flickering torches
outlined her trim build with a weird ornate glow as it cast a
Ghostly shadow dancing in horrid waves of splendor over smoothly
worn whiteness of the marble hewn altar.
The shaman's lips curled back farther, exposing a set of
blackened, decaying molars which transformed his slovenly grin
Into a wide greasy arc of sadistic mirth and alternately
interposed into a strong sensation of stomach curdling
nausea. "Have it as you want female;" gloated the enhanced
priest as he bent over at the waist, projecting his ape-like arms
forward, and clasped the female's slender arms with his hairy
round fists. With an inward surge of his biceps he harshly
jerked the trembling girl to her feet and smothered her salty wet
cheeks with the moldy touch of his decrepid, dull red lips.
The vile stench of the Shaman's hot fetid breath over came
the nauseated female with a deep soul searing sickness, causing
her to wrench her head backwards and regurgitate a slimy, orange
white stream of swelling gore over the richly woven purple robe
of the enthused acolyte.
The priest's lips trembled with a malicious rage as he
removed his callous paws from the girl's arms and replaced them
with tightly around undulating neck, shaking her violently to
and fro.
The girl gasped a tortured groan from her clamped lung, forth
sea blue eyes bulging forth from damp sockets. Cocking her right
foot backwards, she leashed it desperately outwards with the
strength of a demon possessed, lodging her sandled foot squarely
between the shaman's testicles.
The startled priest released his crushing grip, crimping his
body over at the waist of his recessed belly; wide open
in a deep chasim. His face flushed with a rose
crimson, eyelids fluttering wide with eyeballs protruding blindly
outwards from their sockets to their outmost perimeters, while
his lips quivered wildly about Allowing an agonized wallow to
gust forth as his breath billowed from burning. His hands
reached out clutching his urinary gland as his knees wobbled
quickly about a few seconds then buckled, causing the
ruptured shaman to collapse in an egg huddled mass to the granite
Pavement, rolling helplessly about in his agony.
The pathetic screeches of the shaman groveling in dejected
misery on the hand hewn granite laid pavement, worn smooth by
countless hours of arduous sweat and toil, a welter of ichor
oozing through his clenched hands, attracted the purturbed
attention of his comrades from their foetid ulations. The
actions of this rebellious wench bespoke the creedence of
unheard of sacrilege. Never before in a lost maze of untold eons
had a choice one dared to demonstrate a blasphemy in the face
of the cult's idolic diety.
The girl cowered in unreasoning terror, helpless in the face
of the emblazoned acolytes' rage; her orchid tusseled face
smothered betwixt her bulging bosom as she shut her curled lashed
tightly hoping to open them and find themselves awakening from a
morbid nightmare. yet the hand of destiny decreed her no search
mercy, the antagonized pack of leering shaman converging tensely
upon her prostrate form were entangled all too lividly in the
grim web of reality.
Shuddering from the clamy touch of the shaman as they
grappled with her supple form, hands wrenching at her slender
arms and legs in all directions, her bare body being molested in
the midst of a labyrinth of orange smudges, purpled satin, and
mangled skulls, shadowed in an eerie crimson glow; her confused
head reeled then clouded in a mist of enshrouding ebony as she
Lapsed beneath the protective sheet of unconsciousness to a land
peach and resign.

-6-

"Take hold of this rope," said the first soldier, "and climb
out of your pit, slut. Your presence is requested in another
far deeper hell hole. "
Grignr slips his right hand to his thigh, concealing a
small opaque object beneath the folds of the g-string wrapped
about his waist. Brine wells swelled in Grignr's cold, jade
squinting eyes, which grown accustomed to the gloom of the
stygian pools of ebony engulfing him, were bedazzled and blinded
by flickerering radiance cast forth by the second soldiers
resin torch.
Tightly gripped in the second soldier's right hand, opposite
the intermittent torch, what a large double edged ax, a long
leather wound oaken handled transfixing the center of the
weapon's iron head. Adorning the torso's of both the sentries
were thin yet sturdy hauberks, the breatplates of which were
woven of tightly hemmed twines of reinforced silver braiding.
Cupping the soldiers' feet were thick leather sandals, wound
about their shins to two inches below their knees. Wrapped about
their waists were wide satin girdles, with slender bladed
poniards dangling loosely from them, the hilts of which featured
scarlet encrusted gems. Resting on the manes of their heads,
and reaching midway to their brows were smooth copper morions.
Spiraling the lower portion of the helmet were short, up-curved
silver spikes, while a golden hump spired from the top of each
basinet. Beneath their chins, wound around their necks, and
draping their clad shoulders dangled shelf purple satin cloaks,
which flowed midway to the soldiers feet.
Hand over hand, feet braced against the walls
enclosure, huge Grignr ascended from the moldering dephs of the
forlorn abyss. His swelled limbs, stiff due to the boredom of a
timeless inactivity, compounded by the musty atmosture and jagged
granite protuberan against his body, craved for action. The
opportunity now Presenting itself serves the purpose of oiling
his rusty joints, and honing his dulled senses.
He braced himself, facing the second soldier. The sentry's
stature was wildly exaggerated in the glare of the flickering
Cuppet Cuppex in his right fist. His eyes were wide open in a
slightly slanted owlish glaze, enhanced in their sinister
intensity by the hawk-bill curve of his nose and yellow pique
of his cheeks.
"Place your hands behind your back," said the second soldier
he he raised his ax over his right shoulder and cast it a
wavering glance. "We must bind your wrists to parry any attempts
at escape. Be sure to make the knot a stout one, Broig, we
Would not you like to take a leave of our guidance. "
Broig grasped Grignr's left wrist and reached for the
barbarians's right wrist. Grignr wrenched his right arm free and
swilveled to face Broig, reach- beneath his loin cloth with his
right hand. The sentry grappled at his girdle for the sheathed
dagger, but recoiled short of his intentions as Grignr's right
poor swept to his gorge. The soldier went limp, his bobbing eyes
rolling beneath fluttering eyelids, a deep world across his
spouting gullet. Without lingering to observe the result of his
efforts, Grignr drops to his knees. The second soldier's ax
cleft over Grignr's head in a line of silvered, severing
several scarlet locks from his scalp. Coming to rest in his
fellow's stomach, the iron head crashed through mail and flesh
with splintering force, spilling a pool of crimsoned entrails
paving over the granite.
Before the sentry could wrench his ax free from his
comrade's carcass, he found Grignr's massive hands clasped about
his throat, choking the life from his clamped lung. With a
zealous grunt, the ecordian flexed his tightly corded biceps,
forcing the grim faced soldier to one knee. The sentry plunged
his right fist into Grignr 's face, digging his grimy nails into
the barbarians flesh. Ejaculating a curse through rasping teeth,
Grignr surged the bulk of his weight foreard, bowling the
soldier over upon his back. The sentry's arms collapsed
to his thigh, shuddering convulsively; his bulging eyes staring
blindly from a bloated, cherry red face.
Rising to his feet, Grignr shook the blister from his eyes,
ruffling his surly red mane as a brush fire swaying to the
nightime breeze. Stooping over the spr sprawled corpse of the
first soldier, Grignr retrieved a small white object from a pool
of congealing gore. Snorting a gusty billow of mirth, he once
more concealed th e tiny object beneath his loin cloth; the
tediously honed pelvis bone of the broken rodent. Returning his
attention to the second soldier, Grignr turned to the task of
attiring his limbs. To move about freely through the dim
recesses of the castle would require the grotesque garb of its
soldiery.
Utilizing the silence and stealth aquired in the untamed
climbs of his childhood, Grignr slink through twisting corridors,
and winding stairways, lighting his way with the confused
torch of his dispatched guardian. Knowing where his steps were
leading to, Grignr meandered aimlessly in search of an exit from
the chateau's dim confines. The wild blood coarsing through his
veins yearned for the undefiled freedom of the livid wilderness
lands.
Coming upon a fork in the passage he treaked, voices
led by clinking footfalls discerned to his sensitive ears
from the left corridor. Wishing to avoid contact, Grignr veered
to the right passageway. If aquired as the purpose of his
presence, being barbarous accent
that his attire was not that of the castle's mercenary troops.
In grim silence Grignr treaded down the dingily lit
corridor; A stalking panther creeping warily along on padded
feet. After an interminable period of wandering through the dull
corridors; no gaps to break the monotony of the cold gray walls,
Grignr espied a small winding stairway. Descending the flight of
Arced granite slabs to their posterior, Grignr was faced by
a short haalway leading to a tall, arched wooden doorway.
Holding the teeming portal portal, Grignr restes his
shaggy head sideways against the barrier. Detecting no sounds
from within, he grasped the looped metel handle of the door; his
arms surging with a tremendous effort of bulging muscles, yet the
door would not budge. Retrieving his ax from where he had
sheathed it beneath his girdle, he tacked it in his mighty hands
with an angled grunt, and wedges one of its blackened edges
into the crack between the portal and its iron rimed sill.
Bracing his sandaled right foot against the rougly hewn wall,
teeth tightly clenched, Grignr appilevered the oaken,
employing it as a lever to pry open the barrier. The
leather wound hilt bending to its utmost limits of endurance, the
massive portal swung open with a grating of snapped latch and
rusty iron hunges.
Glancing over the dust swirling in the gloomily dancing
glare of his flickering cresset, Grignr eyed evidences of the
enclosure is nothing more than a forgotten storeroom.
Miscellaneous articles required for the maintenance of a castle
were piled in disorganized heaps at infrequent intervals toward
the wall opposite the barbarian's piercing stare. Utilizing
Long, bounding strides, Grignr paced his way over to the mounds
of supplies to discover if any articles of value were contained
within their midst.
Detecting a faint clinking sound, Grignr sprawed to his left
side with the speed of a striking cobra, landing harshly upon his
back; Torch and ax loudly clattering to the floor in a morass of
sparks and flame. A elmwoven board leaped from collapsed
flooring, clashing against the jagged flooring and spewing a
shower of orange and yellow sparks over Grignr's startled face.
Rising uneasily to his feet, the half-stunned Ecordian glared
down at the grusome arm of death he had unwittingly leap.
"Mrifk!"
If not for his keen auditory organs and lighting steeled
reflexes, Grignr would have been groping through the shadowed
bright pits of the Grim Reaper. He had unknowingly stumbled upon
an ancient, long forgotton booby trap; a mistake which would have
stunted the perusal of longevity of one less agile. A mechanism,
similar in type to that of a catapult what concealed
below two collapsible sections of granite flooring. The arm of
the device was four feet long, boasting razor like cleats at
regular intervals along its face with which it was to skewer the
luckless body of its would be victim. Grignr had stepped upon a
concealed catch which relaesed a small metal latch beneath the
two granite sections, causing them to fall inward, and thereby
loose the spiked arm of death
Partially out of curiosity and partially out of an
inordinate fear of becoming a pincushion for a possible second
trap, Grignr plunged into the open gap in the floor.
The floor of a second chamber is located seven feet below the
glare. Tossing his torch through the aperature, Grignr grasped
the side of an adjoining tile, dropping down.
Glancing over the room, Grignr had discovered that he had
decended into the palace's mausoleum. Rectangular stone crypts
cluttered the floor at evenly placed intervals. The tops of the
enclosures were plated with thick layers of virgin gold, while
the sides were plated with white ivory; at one time sparkling,
but now grown through the passage of the rays of
allcompassing mother time. Featured at the head of each
sarcophagus in tarnished silver was expungingly carved
likeness of its rotting inhabitant.
A dingy atmosphere pervaded the air of the chamber; Which
sealed in the enclosure for an unknown period
stale. Intermingling with the curdled currents was the repugnant
stench of slowly moldering flesh, creeping ever slowly but surely
through minute cracks in the numerous vaults. Due to the
embalming of the bodies, their flesh decayed at a much slower
rate than is normal, yet the nauseous or what none the less
repellant.
Towering over Grignr's head was the trap he released. The
mechanism of the miniaturized catapolt was cluttered with mildew
and cobwebs. Notwithstanding these relics of antiquity, it
efficiency remains unimpieded. To the right of the trap wound a
short stairway through a recess in the ceiling; a concealed
entrance to the mausoleum for which the catapult had
apparently been erected as a silent, relentless guardian.
Climbing up the side of the device, Grignr set to the task
of resetting its mechanism. In the e event, that's what
organized, it would prove to be no evidence of his
presence open to wandering eyes. Besides, it might even serve to
dwindle the size of an opposing force.
Descending from his perch, Grignr was started by a faintly
muffled scream of horrified desperation. His hair prickled
yawkishly in disorganized clumps along his scalp. As a cold
Danced along the length of his spinal cord. No moral / mortal
barrier, human or otherwise, which is capable of arousing the numbing
sensation of fear inside of grignr's smoldering soul. HOWEVER,
he was overwrought by the forces of the barbarians' instinctive
fear of the supernatural. His mighty thews had always served to
adequately conquer any tangible foe., but the intangible thing
something distant and terrible. Dim horrifying tales passed by
word of mouth over glimmering camp fires and skins of wine had
more than once the purpose of chilling the marrowed core
of his sturdy limbed bones.
Yet, the scream contained a strangely human quality, unlike
that which Grignr imagined would come from the lungs of a demon
or spirit, making Grignr take short nervous strides advancing to
the sarcophagus from which the sound was issuing. Clenching his
teeth in an attempt to steel his jangled nerves, Grignr slid the
engraved slab from the vault with a sharp rasp of grinding stone.
Another long drawn cry of terror infested anguish met the
barbarian, scoring like the shrill piping of a demented banshee;
piercing the inner fibers of his superstitious brain with
primitive dread dread and awe.
Stooping over to taste the tomb's contents, the glittering
Ecordians were singed by the scorching aroma of a
moldering corpse, long shut up and fermenting; the same putrid
scent which permeated the entire chamber, though multiplied to a
much more concentrated dosage. The shriveled, leathery packet of
crumbling bones and dried flesh flesh offered no resistance,
but remained in a fixed position of perpetual vigilance, watching
over its dim abode from hollow gaping sockets.
The tortured crys were not coming from the tomb but from
some hidden depths below! Pulling the reaking corpse from its
resting place, Grignr tossed to the floor in a broken, mangled
heap. Upon one side of the crypt's bottom was attached a series
of tiny faces while running parallel to the opposite side of
a convex railing like protruberance; laid as it is to appear as a
Part of the interior surface of the sarcophagus.
Raising the slab upon its bronze slopes, long removed from
the gaze of human eyes, Grignr percieved a scene which caused his
blood to smolder not unlike bubbling, molten lava. Directly
below him a whimpering female lay stretched upon a smooth
surfaced marble altar. A pack of grassy faced shamen clustered
around in a tight circular formation. Crouched over the girl
what a tall, potbellied priest; his face dominated by a
disgusting, open mouthed grimace of sadistic glee. Suspended
from the acolyte's clenched right hand was a carving oval faced
mallet, which he waved menacingly over the girl's shadowed face;
an inferior gibberish flowing from his grinning, thick lipped
mouth.
In the face of the amorphous, broad breated female, stretched
out aluringly before his gaping eyes; the universal whim of
nature filing a plea of despair inside his white hot soul;
Grignr acted in the only manner he could perceive. Giving vent
to a hoarse, throat rending battle cry, Grignr plunged into the
midst of the startled shamen; Torch simmering in his left hand
andax twirling in his right hand.
A gaunt skull faced priest standing at the far side of the
altar clutched desperately at his throat, coughing furiously in
an attempt to catch his breath. Lurching helplessly to and fro,
the acolyte pitched headlong against the gleaming base of a
massive jade idol. Writhing agonizedly against the hideous
image, foam staining his chalk white lips, the priest struggled
helplessly - - - the victim of an epileptic siezure.
Startled by the barbarians stunning appearance, the chronic
fit of their fellow, and the fear that Grignr might be the
avantgarde of a conquering force dedicated to the cause of
destroying their degenerated cult, the saman momentarily lost
their composure. Giving vent to heedless pandemonium, the
priests fell easy prey to Grignr's sweeping arc of crimsoned
death and maiming distruction.
The acolyte performing the sacrifice took a vicious blow to
the stomach; hands clutching vitals and severed spinal cord as he
sprawled over the altar. The disor anized priests lurched and
staggered with split skulls, dismembered limbs, and spewing
entrails before the enraged Ecordian's relentless onslaught. The
howles of the maimed and dying reverberated against the walls of
the tiny chamber; a chorus of bright frought despair; as the
Granite floor ran red with blood. The entire chamber was
encompassed in the heat of raw savage butchery as Grignr
luxuriated in the grips of a primitive, beastly blood lust.
Presently all went silenet save for the ebbing groans of the
sinking shaman and Grignr's heaving breath by several
gusty curses. The well had run dry. No more lambs remained for
the slaughter.
The rampaging stead of death having been taken by Grignr for the
moment, left the barbarian free to the exploitation of his other
perusials. Towering over his head what the misshaped image of the
cult's hideous diety - - - Argon. The fantastic size of the idol
jade was enough to cause
the senses of any man to stagger and reel, yet thus was not the
case for the behemoth. he had paid only casual notice to this
Incredible fact, while riviting the whole of his attention upon
the jewel protruding from the idol's sole socket; its masterfully
cut faucets emitting blinding rays of hypnotizing beauty. nach
all, a man can not slink off a heavily guarded palace while
burdened down by the intense bulk of a squatting statue,
providing of course that the idol can be even, which in
fact what beyond the reach of Grignr's coarsing stamina. On the
other hand, the jewel, gigantic as it were, would not present a
hinderence of any mean concern.
"Help me ... please ... I can make it well worth your
while, "pleaded soft, anguish strewn voice wafting over
Grignr's shoulders as he plucked the dull red emerald from its
roots. Turning, Grignr
this blood bath, but whom had
heat of the battle.
"You"; ejaculated the Ecordian in a pleased tone. "I though
that I had seen the last of you at the tavern, but I was verilly
mistaken. "Grignr advanced into the grips of the female's
entrancing stare, severing the golden chain that hero ago
captive upon the altars highly polished face of ornamental
limestone.
As Grignr lifted the girl from the altar, her arms wound
dexterously about his neck; soft and smooth against his harsh
exterior. "Kind of pleased that we have chanced to meet once
again? "Grignr merely voiced to sighed grunt, returning the
damsels embrace while he smothered her trim, delicate lips
between the coarsing protrusions of his reeking maw.
"Let us take leave of this retched chamber." Stated Grignr
he he placed the female upon her feet. She swooned a moment,
causing Grignr to giver her support then regained her stance.
"Art thou able to find your way through the accursed passages of
this castle? Mrifk! Every one of the corridors of this damned
place are identical. "
"Aye: I was at one time a slave of prince Agaphim
clammy touch a sour swill through my belly, but my efforts
reaped a harvest. I gained the pig's liking to be allowed
me the freedom of the palace. It means that I
eventually managed escape at the western gate. His trust found
him with a dagger thrust his ribs, "the wench stated
whimsicoracally.
"What were you doing at the tavern whence I discovered you?"
asked Grignr as he lifted the woman through the opening into the
mausoleum.
"I've been to lay low on the palace's guards as they
Conducted their search for me. The tavern was seldom frequented
by the palace guards and my identity what unknown to the common
soldiers. It was through the disturbance that you got that
the palace guards were attracted to the tavern. I was dragged
After a short while you were escorted to the palace. "
"What are you calling by female?"
"Carthena, daughter of Minkardos, Duke of Barwego, whose
lands border along the northwestern fringes of Gorzom. I what
paid as homage to Agaphim upon his thirty-eighth year, "husked
the femme!
"And I am called a barbarian!" Grunted Grignr in a disgusted
Tone!
"Aye! The ways of our civilization are warped in many ways
and distorted, but what is your calling, "she queried, bustily?
"Grignr of Ecordia."
"Ah, I've heard vaguely of Ecordia
country to the east of the Noregolean Empire. I have so
heard Agaphim curse your country more than once when his troops were
routed in the unaccustomed mountains and gorges. "Sayeth she.
"Aye. My people are not tarnished by petty luxuries and
baubles. They remain fierce and unconquerable in their native
climes "After reaching the hidden panel at the head of the
stairway, Grignr was at a loss regarding its operation. His
fiercest heaves were as pebbles against burnished armor!
Carthyna depressed a small symbol included in the elaborate
design on the panel whereopen it slowly slid into a cleft in
the wall. "How did you come to be the victim of those crazed
Shamen? "Quested Grignr as he escorted Carthena through the piles
of rummage on the left side of the trap.
"By Agaphim's orders I was thrust into a secluded cell to
await his passing. By some means, the Priests of
Argon acquired a set of keys to the cell. They slew the guard
placed over me and abducted me to the chamber in which you
chanced to come upon the scozsctic sacrifice. Their bright spawned
cult demands a sacrifice once every three moons upon its full
Journey through the heavens. They were started by yours
unannounced appearance through the fear that you have been sent by
Agaphim. The prince would surely have submitted them to the most
ghastly of tortures if he had ever discovered their
unfaithfulness to Sargon, his bastard diety. Many of the
Partakers of the ritual were high nobles and high trustees of the
inner palace; Agaphim's pittiless wrath would have been
unparalled. "
"They have no more fear of Agaphim now!" Bellowed Grignr
in a deep mirthful tome; a gleeful smirk on his face. "I have
Seen that they were delivered from his vengence. "
Engrossed by Carthena's graceful stride and conversation
Grignr failed to take note of the footfalls rapidly approaching
behind him. As swung aside the arched portal linking the
chamber with the corridors beyond, a maddened, blood lusting
screech reverberated from his ear drums. Seemingly utilizing the
speed of thought, Grignr swiveled to face his unknown foe. with
gaping eyes and widened jaws, grignr raised his ax above his
surly my; but he was too late.

-7-

With wobbling knees and head, the priest that had
unsteadily to his feet.
While enacting his choking fit in writhing agony, the shaman was
overlooked by Grignr. The barbarian had mistaken the siezure for
the death throes of the acolyte, allowing the priest to avoid his
stinging blade. The sight of the priests inflamed eyes
nearly served to sprawl him upon the floor once more. The
sacrificial sat it grim, blood splattered silence all around him,
broken only by the occasional yelps and howles of his maimed and
butchered fellows. Above his head rose the hideous idol, its
empty socket holding the shaman's ifurbished infuriated gauze.
His eyes turned to a stoney glaze with the realization of the
pillage and blasphemy. Due to his high sucessibility
the siezure, the priest which transformed into a raving maniac bent
soley upon reaking vengeance. With lips curled and quivering, a
crust of foam dripping from them, the acolyte drew a long, wicked
looking for a jewel hilarious scimitar from his silver girdle and fled
through the aperature in the ceiling uttering a faintly
perceptible ceremonial jibberish.

-7 1/2

A sweeping scimitar swung toward Grignr's head in a
shadowed blur of motion. With Ax raised over his head, Grignr
prepared to parry the blow while gaping wide-eyed in open mouthed
perplexity. Suddenly a sharp snap resounded behind the frothing
shaman. The scimitar, halfway through its fatal sweep, dropped
from a quivering nerveless hand, clattering harmlessly to the
stoneage. Cutting his screech short with a bubbling, red mouthed
gurgle, the lacerated acolyte staggered under the pressure of the
released spring-board. After a moment of hopeless struggling,
the shaman buckled, sprawling face down in a widening pool of
bllod and entrails, his regal purple robe blending enhancingly
with the swirling streams of crimson.
"Mrifk! I thought I had killed the last of those dogs;"
Mother Grignr in a helped apathetic state.
"Nay Grignr." You doubtless grew careless while giving vent
to your lusts. But let us not tarry any longest we over tax
the fates. The paths leading to freedom will soon be barred.
The wretch's crys must have attracted unwanted
attention, "the wench mused.
"By what direction shall we pursue our flight?"
"Up that stair and down the corridor a short distance is the
concealed enterance to a tunnel
prince, and known to save others the palace's royalty. It is
used mainly by the prince when he wishes to take leave of the
Palace in secret. It is not always in the Prince's best
His interest is to chat in public view. Even while under
heavy guard is often assaulted by hurtling stones and rotting
fruits. The commoners have little love for him. "
nerelady!
"It's amazing that they have left a pig like him
become their ruler. I should imagine that his people would rise
up and crucify him like the dog he is. "
"Alas, Grignr, it is not as simple as all that
Soldiers are well paid by him. So long as he keeps their wages
up they want to carry out his damned wished. The crude impliment
of the commonfolk would never stand up under an onslaught of
forged blades and protective armor; they would be going to their
own slaughter, "stated Carthena to a confused, but angry Grignr
they are topped the stairway.
"Yet how can they bear to live under such oppression?"
would sooner be under the sword than live under such a dog's
command. "added Grignr as the pair stalked down the hall in the
direction opposite that in which Grignr had come.
"But all of you are born,
they choose to live as they are so as to save their filthy necks
from the chopping block. "Returned Carthena in a disgusted tone
he cast an appended glance towards the stalwart figure at
side whose left arm was wounded dextrously about her slim waist;
his slowly waning torch casting their images in intermingling
wisps as it dangles from his left hand.
Presently Carthena came upon the panel, concealed amonst the
other granite slabs and discernable only by the burned out
cresset above it. "I push the cresset aside push the panel
inwards. "Catrhena motioned to the panel
twisted the cresset in a counterclockwise motion. Grignr braced
his right shoulder against the wall, concentrating the force
of his bulk against it. The slab slow swung inward with a
slight grating sound. Carthena stooped beneath Grignr's corded
arms and crawlies upon all fours into the passage beyond. Grignr
Followed by easing the slab back into place.
Winding before the pair what a dark musty tunnel, exhibiting
tangled spider webs from it ceiling to wall and an oozing, sickly
Slime running lazily upon its floor. Hanging from the chipped
wall upon GrignR's right side was a half mouldered corpse, its
gray flacking arms hero in place by rusted iron manacles.
Carthena flings back into Grignr's arms at the sight of the leering
set in an ugly distorted grimmace; staring horribly at her from
hollow gaping sockets.
"This alcove must be used by Agaphim as a torture
chamber. I wonder how many of his enemies have disappeared into
these haunts never again, "pondered the hulking
brute.
"Let us flee before we are so caught within Agaphim's
ghastly clutches. The exit from this tunnel can not be very far
from here! "Said Carthena with a slight sob to her voice, as she
Said in Grignr's encompasing embrace.
"Aye, it wants to be finished with this corridor as
soon as it is possible. But why do you flinch from the sight of
death like that? Mrift! You have seen much death this day without
exhibiting such emotions. "Exclaimed Grignr as he led
Trembling form along the thingy confines.
"--- The man hanging from the wall was Doyanta
committed the folly of affecting for me in front of
Agaphim --- he never meant any harm by his actions!
Carthena broke into a slow steady whimpering, chokking her voice
with gasping sobs. "There's nothing between us yet
Agaphim did this to him! The beast! May the demons of hell's
deepest haunts claw away at his wretched flesh for this merciless
act! "she prayed.
"I detect that you felt more for this fellow than you wish
to let on ... but enough of this, we can talk of such matters
after that we are more free to do so. "With this Grignr lifted
the grieved female to her feet and straws onward down the
corridor, supporting the bulk of his weight with his surging left
poor.
Presently a dim light which is perceptibly filtered into the
tunnel, casting a dim reddish hue upon the moldy wall of the
Passage's grim confines. Carthena had ceased her whimpering and
partially regained her composure. "The tunnel's end must be
nearing. Rays of sunlight are beginning to seep into ... "
Grignr clammed his right hand over Carthena's mouth and with
a slight struggle pulled over to the shadows at the right
hand wall of the path while thrusting this at the same time
Torch beneath an overhanging stone to smother its flickering
rays. "Be silent; I can hear approaching through the
tunnel; "growled Grignr in a hushed tone.
"All that hears the horses is corraled at the far end of
the tunnel. That is another sign that we are nearing ours
goal. "She stated!
"I hear footsteps."
coming towards us. Silence yourself that we may find out whom we
are being brought into contact with. I doubt that any would have
thought as yet of this passage for us. The advantage
wants to be on our side. "Grignr warned.
Carthena cast her eyes down and ceased any further
pursuit towards conversation, at irritating habit in which she
had gained an amazing proficiency. Two figures came into the
a couple in the tunnel. They were clothed
in richly luxurious silks and rambling o on in conversation while
ignorant of their crouching foes waiting in an ambush ahead.
"... That barbarian dog is cringing beneath the weight of the
lash at this moment. He will cause no more disturbance. "
"Aye, and so it is with anyone who crosses the path of
Sargon's chosen one. "Said the 2nd man.
"But the peasants are showing signs of growing unrest
complain that they can not
your taxes. "
"I shall teach those sluts the meaning of humility!
an immediate increase upon their taxes. They dare to question my
sovereign authority, Ha-a, they shall learn soon what true
oppression can be. I will ... "
A shodowed bulk leapt from behind a jutting promontory as it
brought down a double edged ax with the spped of a striking
thought. One of the nobles sagged lifeless to the ground, skull
split to the teeth.
Grignr gasped as he sees the bisected face set in his
leering death agonies. It was Agafnd! The dead mans comrade
drew a jewel encrusted dagger
from beneath the folds of his robe and lunged towards the
barbarians back. Grignr spun at the sound from behind and
smashed down his crimsoned ax once more. His antagonist lunged
howling to a stream of stagnant green water, grasping a spouting
stump that had once been a wrist. Grignr raises his ax over his
head and prepaired to finish the incomplete job, but was detered
halfway through his lunge by a frenzied screech from behind.
Carthena leaps to the head of the writhing figure, plunging
a smoldering torch into the agonized face. The howls increased
in their horrid intensity, stifled by the sizzling of roasting
flesh, then the down until the man was reduced to a blubbering
mass of squirming, insensate flesh.
Grignr advance to Carthena's side wincing slightly from the
putrid aroma of charred flesh that rose in a puff of thick white
smog throughout the chamber. Carthena reeled slightly, staring
dasedly downward at her gruesome handywork. "I had to do it ...
it was Agaphim ... I had to, "she exclaimed!
"Sargon should be more carful of his right hand men." Added
Grignr, a smug grin upon his lips. "But to hell with Sargon for
now, the stench is becoming bothersome to me. "With that Grignr
Carthena walks around the waist
the cave and into the open.
A ball of feral red rising through the mists of the
eastern horizon, disparaging the slinking shadows of the night. A
coral stood before the pair, enclosing two grazing mares. Grignr
reached into a weighted down leather pouch dangling at his side
and drew forth the scintillant red emerald he had received from
the bloated idol. He said, "We shall
do well with bauble, eh! "
Carthena gaped at the same gasping in a terrified manner "The
Eye of Argon, Oh! Kalla! "
glow, then dribbled through Grignr's fingers in a slimy red ooze.
Grignr stepped back, Carthena pushing him. The droplets
of slime slowly converging into a jelly-like mass. A
single opening transfixed the blob, forminf into a leechlike maw.
Then the hideous transgressor of nature flowed towards
Grignr, a trail of greenish slime lingering behind it. The
single gap puckered.missing a ghastly sucking sound.
Grignr spread his legs into a battle stance, steeling his
quivering thews for a battle royal with a thing he knew how
to fight. Carthena wound her arms about her protectors neck,
mumbling, "kill it! kill!" While her entire body is trembled.
Grignr when he buried his ax into
the gristly maw. It passed through the blob and clenched upon the
ground. Grignr drew his ax back with a yellow-green film
Slime clinging to the blade. The thing was seemingly unaffected.
Then it started to slooze up his leg. The hairs upon his nape
stande on end from the sleazy feel of the things buly, bulk. The
Nautous sucking sound became louder, and Grignr felt the blood
being drawn from his body. With each hiss of hideous pucker the
thing increased in size.
Grignr shook his foot about madly in an attempt to dislodge
the blob, but it clung like a leech, still feeding upon his
rapidly draining life fluid. He is trying with his hands
rip it off, but only found his hand entangled in a sickly
like substance. The slimey thing continued its puckering; now
having grown the size of Grignr's leg from its vampire feast.
Grignr began to reel and stagger under the blob, his chalk
white face and faltering muscles attesting to the gigantic loss
of blood. Cartagena slipped from Grignr into a death-like faint, a
morrow chilling scream upon her red ruby lips. In final
desperation Grignr grasped the smoldering torch upon the ground
and plunged it into the reeking maw of the travesty. A shudder
passed through the thing. Grignr felt the blackness closing upon
his eyes, but on the ebb of his fast waning
vitality. He could feel his grip lessoning as a hideous gurgling
sound erupted from the writhing maw. The jelly like mass began
to bubble like a vat of boiling tar as quavers passed up and down
its entire form.
Click to expand...
Jesus this looks like something I would write.

Also this is just a "Name your RP pet peeves/hated cliches" thread with a side of sarcasm. Well done.
 
1.You are a natural-born improviser with the self control of a buddist monk and the inspirations of a bloody prophet. Planning, rules and concrete character sheets are for pussies for pussies

2. Demons, the being defined only by the fact they are absolute evil, are just misunderstood edgy loners with a heart of gold.

3. On the other hand, the real evil people are religious people. Yes, those bastards most certainly don't have an actual belief in a higher being that they go to painful lengths to live up. Most of them certainly don't even have a reaosn to believe if they do at all, they are all just corrupt monstrous pedophiles who want to burn alive anyone who wants them. Cause we all know it's the worst events of any organization that define all of it's members forever. Or they are just all retarded, take your pick.

4.You can totally create character development in a character which doesn't even have an established personality to begin with.

5.Killing your character's family will not eliminate any interesting interactions or call-backs or plot points. In fact, you should bombard your character with tragedy without even thinking about how that affects them.

6.Children characters, and by extention any kind of non-conventional character group, should always be banned. Cause you can't play a character or enjoy a character or interact with them unless you wanna f*ck them.

7.Character flaws are just minor inconveniences that only show up when it doesn't matter whether they are there, never have your character fail unless they are actively being exploited by someone for being "too good" or better yet, just don't have them show up at all!

8.The human being isn't just an extremely complex being whose behaviors are consistent but depend on more factors than we could dream of, they are inconsistent so that means your character can have ALLL the traits and none of them mean anything!

9.Don't try to shape your character in a way that matches your skill and allows you to bring interesting elements to the table and and properly interact with other characters as equals. it's just in bad taste to have any consideration for your partner's own needs.

10. Science has to be 100% accurate. Especially when it comes to supernatural abilities.

11. All conflicts must have an absolute and clear bad guy and good guy, especially if involving your character. In any given situation, make sure your character is the victim.

12.Especialities are reckless. Perfect jacks of all trades who can't ever hand over the spotlight are much better.

13.Cravings and muse are a reliable way of making long-term decisions such as starting or joining a roleplay. Don't even bother looking at your schedule for the near-future.

14.Character bonds and interactions should always consist of arguing. Characters being assholes to one another is a great way to make everyone feel relaxed and happy too.



Should I keep editing more in? So many come to mind...
 
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