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  1. #21
    Player

    Join Date
    Oct 2012
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    2

    Jaggedy-Eared Jack

    "A story? We've no time for stories, we've a kingdom to build!" Arthur's passionate words emanated in time with the fire's roar as one of his companions, a Dragoon named Richter Sarkany, stoked it to life. The Paladin's eyes roamed over his three companions sitting restfully about Camp Black Brush after a day of traveling from Gridania to Ul'dah.



    "And are we to build this mighty kingdom in the middle of the night, dearrrry?" Elsa Friis, their Miqo'te friend gifted in healing offered a catty brow quirk from her seat near the fire. The jest evoked a hearty laugh from Crelyos Highwind, the last of their company and a Monk whose punch lines were as deadly as his punches.

    "Ha! There's an idea! Get the marmots to join! They're the only docile creatures scurrying around at night! People'll go positively nuts over them!" Crelyos grabbed his stomach, laughing at his own joke. Richter finished bringing the fire to life and took a seat next to Elsa shaking his head.



    "Oh Highwind, if only your fighting wasn't as dull as your wit." The dragoon removed his helmet and set it next to him on a patch of grass, inhaling as the grasses' crunch released the dusty smell of Thanalan's desert into the night air. Crelyos retorted, "Oh, I suppose my fighting should be sharp as the useless jagged sticks pokin' outta that purple dodo excrement you call armor?!"

    "If not, at least your wit." Richter grinned at the frustration of his companion.
    "Marmots... jagged. Aha!" King Arthur exclaimed, tapping his fist against his palm to announce: 'Eureka!'. A devilish grin spread across his face as he crept to the flames, hovering over them. "If you want a story, I shall tell the tale of Jack, the most evil marmot that haunts the plains of Thanalan. Even the Twelve fear it with their lives!"
    "You... want to scare us with the storrrry of a raggedy marmot, Arthur?" Despite Elsa's sarcasm, the group leaned forward with anticipation as Arthur began in an eerily embellishing voice.

    "It began on a windy night like this one when I was a fledgling honing my skills in the merciless desert. As I knew little of attack and defense, I targeted the harmless critters plaguing the countryside near Ul'dah's gates. Though Momodi warned me of hunting alone at night, I believed myself invincible! No marmot or coblyn was safe from my blade!



    Hours later I perfected the art. The lashing coblyn tentacle and the powerful marmot kick were too easy to avoid, and the vitals of these vermin were too easy to find with sword's tip. It was such a killing blow, perhaps one of thousands of marmots, that provoked a blood-curdling squeal. Instantly I felt eyes on my back.

    I whirled about to face this new adversary but was brought to my knees inwardly. Within the darkness upon a distant hill stood a marmot unlike the others. It stared with purpose and intelligence. Its fur bristled aggressively. Its eyes, normally adorable pools, were endless obsidian voids of aimed hatred. It unleashed a screech like the banshees of old and charged down the hillside. Its hops were as thunder rolling across the La Noscean plains! I ran blind and afraid into the darkness. After several hundred yalms, I was lost but confident I gave the demonic marmot the slip.



    As I rustled about, the crinkling of Thanalan's dry brush at my back coaxed my attention. As I slowly turned, I felt the marmot's breath at my heels. My gaze met the black pits as its maw hissed open revealing sharp, pointy teeth! I screamed and swung wildly with my blade, connecting with the creature's ear and shaving off part of it!

    After that I ran for hours, stumbling about until I met a couple near a camp fire. That couple was you, Elsa and Richter. Even today I don't know what happened to the creature I named Jack. When I see a marmot, I check for an ear wound and black eyes. No matter how far I travel, I feel its nearby, watching me and waiting for its chance to avenge its brethren... and its jaggedy ear."

    (7)

  2. #22
    Player
    hrdndv's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2012
    Location
    Gridania
    Posts
    301
    Character
    Terak Alonia
    World
    Sargatanas
    Main Class
    CONJURER Lv 50


    Listen my lovelies, listen and hear, here is my tale, so listen well. It was upon a night not different from this. A fire as bright and warm as called for by the chill night air. I the stranger it from afar after a hard journey. He was sitting beside this very fire wearing a bright red cloak and I took him immediately to be a mage. He beckoned and I approached the fire eager to warm my bones and tail. He seemed to smile, but his face was shrouded in darkness. Quiet reigned for several minutes and then he began his tale.
    There is naught to fear in all Eorza for a true champion. He paused and looked me in the eye, or seemed to do so out of darkness. Save one thing. Of course you , in your wisdom, know what that might be.
    Puzzled, I said, I do not.
    As he leaned close I got a momentary whiff of sulphur and death as he intoned, Yourself.
    He paused a moment and continued. I was once an innocent adventurer looking for the Siren's Sword. I had searched the depths of dungeons for over a year when one night I happened on a stranger at a campfire. We had a pleasant conversation and I confessed the treasure I sought. He said, by coincidence, he happened to know where it was to be found. Then, without prodding or bribery he offered to show me its resting place. Immediately my heart leapt at the chance. I followed him to a stone door set in a wall of rock and he called out a spell of opening. The door opened on a narrow tunnel that led deep into the earth. At the bottom was a well and he offered to lower me on a rope to the chest containing the prize. Without thinking I agreed and soon reached the bottom and the chest. It was within my grasp but I could not open the box. At this point he paused and said, I cannot finish my tale unless you are willing to don my robe. It seemed like an odd request but harmless enough. I agreed and put on his robe. Without his robe the old man was a withered skeleton.
    He continued his tale, Telling the stranger my dilemma; he said he would open the chest if I would do something for him. In my foolishness I said I would do whatever he asked. He said, "When you get the sword you must kill me and put on my robe." I agreed and he dropped me a golden key. I opened the chest and got the sword of my desire. A few moments later I was standing over the wizard's dead body wearing his red robe. I soon discovered it to be one of the primal artifacts and have tremendous power, but it has a drawback, every spell cast sucks the life from your own body until nothing is left but rot. Now there is no escape from this curse save to pass the robe on to another willing soul, as I have just done. I thank you for my release. With that I was left sitting here pondering my situation. I ask you, is ultimate power worth the cost of your own life? Would you don my robe and wear my sword to release me from my curse?
    Of course my choice is obvious since I now wear the red robe. I chose power over life.
    (2)

  3. #23
    Player
    hrdndv's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2012
    Location
    Gridania
    Posts
    301
    Character
    Terak Alonia
    World
    Sargatanas
    Main Class
    CONJURER Lv 50
    (1)

  4. #24
    Player
    Charmin's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2012
    Posts
    82
    Character
    Charmin Yummyberry
    World
    Hyperion
    Main Class
    THAUMATURGE Lv 50
    After the levequest, Dibs questioned an eye patch that fell out of Charmin's bag. Charmin replied...



    "'The Shposhae Shanty', Limsan traditional, Version Two."

    "Version two?"

    Sahagins' wail and aurelias' grip
    Bloody tides and slimy drip
    Dare not enter without sword-on-hip
    An' move fast, lads, at fearful clip
    Shposhae - tomb of death and lore
    Where legends undie from days of yore
    Sucking winds and eerie fire
    All mashed and pulped in murd'rous gyre

    Ahoy ye lads 'n listen well
    Yer life may lie upon this tale
    O' th' Master Marauder I do sing
    Ol' Cap'n Mistbeard, Pirates' King

    T'was one place that he dared t'go
    Shposhae, known as Sahaugin-home
    Yet thar he lay 'is gotten gains
    Plundered from Eorza's mains

    Rycharde was 'is mortal name
    Now lost to sea of wave and fame
    What 'e'd do to be so feared
    'N earn 'is title o' Mistbeard

    Th' 'Eart o' Girdania he plundered first
    Then sailed to Ul'dah with greater durst
    Took th' sultan's skins and gold
    An' th' sultana's maidenhead as he t'were bold



    Now spurred on without mortal stress
    Cap-and-crew sailed o'er th'Abyss
    T' lands and seas yet found on charts
    But...there be monsters in them parts

    What fate befell the King's own crew
    So that of all who went returned but two
    To beast, to siren, to mania some tell
    That turned Mistbeard's armada into a living hell

    Just the captain and his cannonboy
    Returned to shore wi' their bloody foy
    Wrecked an' ravaged and paranoid
    Haunted by things from beyond the Void

    To forget the horrors and find succor
    They berthed upon a Noscean shore
    Here further myth-mists cover our told-well-tale
    After th' boy was left an' Captain set sail



    To Moraby Bay Mistbeard cruised
    Alone and mad with sanity bruised
    Where could he hide his blood-bought trove
    Out of reach that wasn't his Cove

    A secret place with reputation
    Of bloody murder that befit his station
    To forever house his remaining swag
    And rebuild his rights to drink and brag

    Sahagins' wail and aurelias' grip
    Bloody tides and slimy drip
    Dare not enter without sword-on-hip
    An' move fast, lads, at fearful clip
    Shposhae - tomb of death and lore
    Where legends undie from days of yore
    Sucking winds and eerie fire
    All mashed and pulped in murd'rous gyre

    Outside the cave he piled his wares
    Gritted his teeth and on shoulder bears
    His legacy inside that haunted hall
    Where dampness settles like a funeral pall

    There to respite from loss and pain
    And through battle with beastmen gain
    His honor back as well as mettle
    Shposhae would be where he would settle

    Further in he left a path
    Of key and coffer in salty bath
    Down and down the captain went
    But none could see where the Sahagin were sent



    Nary a trace of scale nor fin
    Raised concern about these fishy kin
    What did the captain deep explore
    That made him heard from nevermore

    It's been at least ten summers since any spoke
    Of Mistbeard's whereabouts as legend or bloke
    But there has been one passed-down rumor
    About his loss of eye-made humor

    Aye, one eye, that needed patched
    Given up lest in Ul'Dah catched
    But one that would emboldenize
    And free him from fear's paralyze

    Perhaps this was the very token
    That suppressed his reason and caused, embolden'
    To sail off the edge of fate
    And risk his legend'ry estate

    A cursed thing, passed down through time
    From King to King as they sailed the brine
    If earned by feats ever more braver
    How did then Rycharde lose this favor

    Ah, but where it's now's the mystery to unfurl
    The answer's this, t'is with the Lone Coeurl
    T'was the whiskered beast that ended the line
    Of Captain Mistbeard, legend o' thine

    Now it's sung that one who finds
    The patch and dons it binds
    Himself to Prince of Wat'ry Damned
    Forever haunting the seas and land



    Sahagins' wail and aurelias' grip
    Bloody tides and slimy drip
    Dare not enter without sword-on-hip
    An' move fast, lads, at fearful clip
    Shposhae - tomb of death and lore
    Where legends undie from days of yore
    Sucking winds and eerie fire
    All mashed and pulped in murd'rous gyre
    (4)

  5. #25
    Player
    Weffrey's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    Gridania
    Posts
    85
    Character
    Weffrey Pencroff
    World
    Excalibur
    Main Class
    CONJURER Lv 50
    A Contest

    On a moon darker than the rest, an anonymous letter appeared at the doorstep of three adventurers. The message of the letter was simple, "Meet me at Camp Tranquil. I am in dire need of your services. You will be paid handsomely." The three souls who received the mysterious letter were a merchant from Ul'dah, a botanist from Gridania, and a cook from Limsa Lominsa. All three had never met, but were willing to assist the plea for help. The merchant and cook boarded their city-states' airship, while the botanist walked to Camp Tranquil.

    After several bells, all three letter bearers were sitting around Camp Tranquil's campfire as it glistened in the night. The three discussed for half a bell.

    The merchant boasted of his market selling anything and everything that was found along his travels. The cook then commented on his successful culinary career, and how he developed a new tasty take on Bouillabaisse. Finally, the botanist chimed in telling stories of his wood being the finest that all the carpenters wanted.

    As the conversation went on, the three eventually put their talk of accomplishments away and turned to curiosity. The cook questioned the two if all three of the letters received were identical in handwriting as well as in message of urgency. Each brought out their copy of the letter and when put side by side, was the same. The merchant sighed with relief. He was glad he did not spend five-thousand gil for the airship fee just for a prank. The cook was about to make a comment, but kept it in.

    Unexpectedly, the botanist pointed to a mystifying figure walking towards the three sitting. The merchant and cook immediately turned their heads to see what was approaching. The figure was clearly a hyur wearing a black cloak and mask. The figure reached the campfire.

    Next, the figure began to speak in a muffled voice. He thanked the three for coming to his aid. He then told the three to listen carefully. The merchant, botanist, and cook looked at one another and remained silent. The black cloaked individual began. He summoned the three to retrieve a lost staff. The hyur explained he was practicing magic in the forest when a pack of wolves encircled him. He was outnumbered, and had no choice but to leave the staff when he fled for his life. He said he needed more than just himself to search , since The Black Shroud has many pathways. He felt with four of them, the staff would be recovered swiftly.

    After hearing the tale, the three agreed with four it would be an easy undertaking. The merchant declared spreading out was the best plan and headed northeast of Camp Tranquil. The cook disagreed with the merchant and teamed up with the botanist who started their search together directly east. The hyur smiled and walked into the forest, happy his staff would be returned.

    Three bells passed, and the night became darker. The cook and the botanist began to near The Rootslake. A sudden scream of agony echoed through the forest. The botanist and cook quickly spun around. The scream did not come from directly behind them. The botanist suggested to the cook that they teleport to Silent Arbor to ensure the merchant was safe. The cook, frightened, told the botanist he did not have enough anima. The botanist, also afraid, assured the cook it would not take long to teleport there and back to him. The cook waited by two small trees.

    Once the botanist arrived, he saw a horrific sight. The merchant was dead next to a bush with his eyes carved out and two pieces of gil replacing where the eyes should have been. The botanist immediately rushed back to where the cook was waiting. However, the cook was tied up between two trees with a lit fire burning his corpse. The botanist's eyes and mouth were agape. As he was about to turn back to Camp Tranquil, he heard a crack and before he knew it a tree toppled on him. The hyur's staff was never recovered.



    And now I ask you three. Will you find my staff?

    (1)
    Hurray for summoner! My favorite job!

  6. #26
    Player

    Join Date
    Apr 2011
    Location
    Bodhum, Ul'dah
    Posts
    2

    The Cask of Converging Pumpkins


    For I can not cast doubt on my fellow becuase in the era of the 6th umrbal, time it's self laid waste to many a great adventures. We ventured on, many had come and gone but our sporting friendship had become our anchor and my doom. You, who knows the nature of competitors will undoubtly excuse my behaviour being a famous crafter when I procured the special magicial pumpkin potion rumored to behold properties unlike anyting in all the three nations. A deal was struck with a shady traveler for practically an armys worth of linens and wool garbs over many cycles of harverst moon's whence he would return to trade his pumpkins.


    Humble Measure took note of the super fine luster of my blue tipped tail due to my improved purse and being an adaptive hume to suit the time and opportunity took upon herself to play a trick on me. For a shady traveler was offerering a transmorgifying tonic made from pumpkin juice that would temporarily make one into a pumpkin. Ha! Yes indeed for he offered only that she give it to none other then Thelonious, me becuase some how a rumor had broke out that I was juicing Ul'dah orge pumpkins and who does that. This will be hilarious!


    So in a dream like state I woke up and rolled to the Gridanian Mercantile House to sell my goods. Only the horror, the horror of that day drove me to haste to Lominsan Mercantile House where again no matter how low I set the prices I was forced to head to Ul'dah early only to relize to my utter dismay....nothing had sold in my bazaar.


    No one knew I had struck a deal with a Garlean. That I was consuming vast amounts of there secret elixir. I never knew my fellow had made the same aquaintence a year later. I never knew Humble had replaced one of my pumpkin tonics. No one ever never knew I was going to stay a pumpkin. Now a year past and no one knows where the famous crafter has gone.

    Being one to never let myself down I made this situation a relic of the past and now I had a new achievement to come. Being born an Ul'dahian it was now clear I was going to become the greatest pumpkin anyone had ever seen. So without hesitation I headed out to the Coffer and Coffin and planted myself right in the patch. Now the secret lies with me that Ul'dah orge pumpkins will be imbued with a crafting grace like that of which the twelve gods have never seen! Ha! who has the last laugh now?!?!?

    (1)

  7. #27
    Player
    Catwho's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2012
    Location
    Gridania
    Posts
    19
    Character
    Katarh Mest
    World
    Lamia
    Main Class
    THAUMATURGE Lv 50


    There are many legends in Eorzea, some of them oral traditions handed down by the bards over generations, some of them whispered rumors passed between children, and still more shared by adults in hushed tones inside houses. The last ones tend to be the ones based on a nugget of truth, although the stories may be exaggerated over the years for dramatic purposes.

    It was these such stories that two friends, taking a pause from adventuring, were sharing at Camp Black Brush one evening. The atmosphere was just perfect for sharing scary stories together, with the menacing ships in the sky, the terrifying visage of the red moon approaching, and mysterious Atomos doing something very interesting to the aetheryte node.

    The two girls, long into their cups, were now trying to out-do each other. They'd been swapping tales all evening, and now that the sun had slipped below the horizon, they were getting bolder and bolder.

    “Have you heard the one about the headless chocobo?” Cat said, eying the pack chocobo on the other side of the camp.

    “You mean, the headless chocobo rider, don't you?” Lahurah corrected.

    Cat shook her head. “No, it was definitely a headless chocobo. You see, its owner was in a hurry to teleport, and didn't finish dismounting all the way before casting the spell. The chocobo's body was caught in range, but its head was left behind.”

    “That's dumb.” Lahurah snorted into her cup. “A teleport spell's range is a lot bigger than a chocobo.”

    “Oh, I don't know,” Cat said, annoyed to have her story picked apart by logic. “Maybe he had dismounted it and was running away.”

    “So what does this headless chocobo do?”

    Cat leaned forward, trying to get maximum scary effect from the campfire onto her face. “Legend has it that on nights like these-”

    “When there's a strange creature eating the aetheryte nodes, you mean?”

    “Hush! On nights just like this one, the Headless Chocobo approaches adventures, and attacks them, trying to get them to find its head. Only it's just a scrawny neck, so no one knows that's what it wants. And,” she paused for dramatic effect and lowered her voice, “if its neck actually touches you... your head will disappear too.”

    “I can't believe you actually believe that.” Lahurah, ever the more practical minded of the two, had said that regarding every single story Cat had told her that evening.

    “Well excuuuuuse me! It's a lot more exciting than your story about the mutant popoto.”

    Lahurah shuddered. “You didn't see it. No root vegetable should ever look like that.”

    Cat tucked her small legs further under her, as the night air was beginning to chill. “Shall we head back to town soon? We're all out of leve quests to do for the day.”

    “Sure,” Lahurah said, and moved to stand up. However, once she was upright she froze in place. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. She lifted one hand to point in the direction of Ul'Dah.

    “What?” Cat asked, and then turned around to where Lahurah was pointing. When she saw what had terrified the Mi'Quote girl so, the Lalafelle let out an ear-splitting scream.

    There before them was a chocobo that appeared to have no head. Where its body should have been, there was a normal yellow chocobo shape, but the head and beak were completely missing. A man walked beside it, wearing ghostly white.

    “Quick! Get back to Ul'Dah!” Cat shouted. She didn't have to tell her best friend twice, as the other girl was already frantically Returning herself as well.

    With a small pop, they were gone.

    The Headless Chocobo continued into Camp Black Brush, but it was not alone. It was being led patiently by a chocobo trainer, who reached up to undo the black kerchief that was covering its head, once they were safely inside the camp's borders.

    “Easy, girl. I told you we'd get through all those fiends with no problem,” the trainer said, and patted the chocobo on the flanks. “What you can't see can't hurt you!”

    The legend's nugget of truth, which no one had ever told to Cat or Lahurah, was that chocobos would rather see nothing at all than see fiend's eyes glowing in the dark, so young, skittish chocobos would frequently be transported with full blinders when they were not part of a caravan. Once the chocobo was older and more sure of itself, the kerchief on its head would no longer be necessary.

    That was no consolation to the two girls, who were huddled together in the Hourglass, screaming about headless chocobos at Camp Black Brush.
    (0)

  8. #28
    Player
    Vendeen's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2011
    Location
    Gridania
    Posts
    11
    Character
    Vendeen Telmon
    World
    Excalibur
    Main Class
    CONJURER Lv 50
    The Twelves wood lay still this night. My Companions and I rest from our weary travels. Only the crackle of the fire breaks the silence. It's warmth cradles our wounds from battle. The images in our minds, the screams, the horror, stay our tongues. We faced our enemy on the battlefield. Our friends, our family, decimated before our very eyes. "The way they looked..." I muttered. "It... was...". I couldn't finish the words. I knew all to well what had happened that day.

    The nightmare, the eve of the battle brought me to tears. I was trapped, in a dark place. My friends, family, even the place I loved were all gone. No matter where I looked, no matter where I ran, I was... no place. The thoughts that filled my head, were horrific! I dreamed of death, despair, torture! I couldn't control myself! EVERYTHING HAD TO DIE!!

    Images flash through my head... wandering aimless. The lust for death was so great, the faces of everything and everyonewere distorted, making every soul in Eorzea unrecognizable. My skin was on fire and my eyes burned with all the hatred of a thousand demons! Who had I become?! Whom will stop me?! The Red Moon Beckons...

    Like the Swiftness of Odin's hand I awoke on my knees with my friends again. Tears of sorrow filled my eyes. Not one of them comforts me... I bow down in despair screaming "why do you leave me alone?!" "what wrong have I done?!" As I look about, my friends now had their gaze upon me! Weapons drawn they wish to strike me down! But why... It was all just a nightmare.....

    wasn't it....?
    (1)

  9. #29
    Player
    RoxyLalonde's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2012
    Location
    Uldah
    Posts
    290
    Character
    Captain Subligar
    World
    Balmung
    Main Class
    CONJURER Lv 50


    Rose “Hey Cap, I need you to do something really important!”
    Captain “Sure, what is it Rose?”
    Rose “Tell us a scary story.”
    Captain “Argh tricked again… fine”
    Everyone else laughs…
    Once upon a time there was a fierce Lalafel Conjurer who enjoyed hunting treasures; everyone shook in fear at her ferocity when they were in battle. She barked orders often taking charge of the battle and as she did the people danced into place and assuring victory. However, as often as she took charge she hated running the show and often ended up going places by herself, to hunt treasure while the others recovered from the previous battle.

    While finishing a rather difficult battle in the dungeon of Totorak just as the others left after fully cleansing the caves of the taint of monsters, Roxy spotted a Miqo’te she did not recognize as being with them in the caves. She approached Roxy in a solid black cowl with a large golden eye design that covered over her face. She whispered softly, “well done Roxy, I’ve been watching your progress. You are certainly doing well, perhaps you should try this potion to increase your power… and better yet visit Mun Tuy Cellars, I know a monster there may have something you would really want. Well time I was off.” And with those last words a bubble appeared and she vanished.

    Roxy intrigued at the idea of gaining power and powerful items snagged the potion which held the label of Hi Potion of Intelligence. She felt invigorated with energy and wit as she headed towards the Cellars, fully confident in her ability to handle whatever dangers lingered in the weak catacombs beneath treespeak. Her chocobo Katarinah carried her there within an hour and a half’s passing, She entered the dungeon excitedly full of energy from the potion she had consumed. She ventured in quickly and quietly searching for the treasure she approached a room and found it full of the undead… living bones with swords and shields blocked her path. She silently snuck in with her stone skin and protect barriers at the ready. They noticed her, obviously because they could sense the living since they had no eyes or ears. They made a rush for her, in a matter of seconds a rush of power and energy formed around them and a powerful gale of cutting winds tore them to pieces. She quickly snuck away before the sounds could alarm more monsters to her presence. The rush was really getting to her, she felt like a god. She made her way slaying more and more monsters entering deeper and deeper into the dungeon. She found a monster guarding a pile of fabric, it appeared to be a cowl of some kind… similar to the one the mystery Miqo’te was wearing but in rich wine color.

    The princely gnat floated gently over the cowl as if it was a nest of some sort. A soft buzzing filled the air as she drew nearer. She walked towards it and cast a spell to crush the monster, the earth rose around it and struck it to the ground. The creature buzzed loudly and fell to the ground. Roxy, cheerfully slid on the new cowl that seemed to be just her size. As she did the buzzing began again and the foul insect regained it’s senses. The sting hit her instantly and she collapsed. She awoke in a different room dazed and confused, the soft humming of power that she previously felt from the potion now made her woozy and unfocused. Several imps floated in and circled her, the gnat who had stung her seemed to be sleeping at the edge of the room. Finally, the Miqo’te came in this time without the hood covering her face. It’s eyes glowed the same color as the imps around her. Roxy realized what it was now, it was the demon Alux. “So nice of you to put on your sacrificial robe for us, we really appreciate it. As you can see you will be joining us for dinner.” Said Alux. Roxy struggled against her binds but it was too late. She was dinner.
    (1)

  10. #30
    Player

    Join Date
    Oct 2012
    Posts
    1

    Screaming Bertram Hackett



    The rider looked tired while approaching the camp. A smile grew on her face as she watched mulled tea and bread passed around the campsite. The campfire illuminated her face, Mariku Jatariku, a Lalafell yelled, "Here kitty-kitty, join us!" She laughed and sat near the fire and filled her belly and warmed her bones.



    Jatariku poked her side and said, "Friis, tell us a story that would make Menphina blush!" "Not tonight. How about 'Screaming Berrrtram Hackett?'"

    "There was a Hyur named Bertram Hackett. He was a Midlander with coolest of nerves. He made gil debunking ghost stories. He grew tired of never finding anything to give him a fright. He was drinking one night when a fellow Hyur tapped him on the shoulder.

    "Hackett?" he gasped. Hackett nodded as he pulled apart his flatbread. "Me name is Fenner, Gavril Fenner. I work at a castle in northern La Noscea. It's haunted by a fiendish ghoul!"



    Hackett smiled as his eyebrows raised, "Explain," going through the same routine again, he thought. "The ghoul screams at all hours of the night, breaks the valuable artifacts of me master and I get blamed fer it all! Me pockets can't cover the price of such things and me sanity is damn near lost!" Hackett nodded, "Give me the exact location and I'll be there tomorrow. After the sun sets." Fenner clutched his hand and shook it with such enthusiasm that Hackett's whole body shook.



    Hackett arrived at the castle and Fenner greeted him, "Thanks, Hackett. Ye can't believe how much this means to me and the staff. Luckily, me master and his family is out fer the night, er else he wouldn't of agreed to such a thing!" Hackett nodded his head, "Please make sure everyone is outside during the examination."

    Hackett entered the castle. His heart wasn't in it anymore. He knew the destruction and chaos was probably being caused by something utterly boring and mundane.

    Hackett began his journey through the living room, running his fingers over the velvet material of the couch. "Any ghouls in here?" Nothing.

    He inspected the immaculately kept kitchen. The dishes shined brightly and he caught his reflection. "An old wash up," he whispered. "Any ghouls in here?" The door creaked. He turned towards it, waiting for something, but- nothing.

    He then moved to the candlelit corridors to the bedrooms. The bedroom was pink. A cotton bear sat on the edge of the bed near dodo-down stuffed pillows. "Any ghouls in here?" The bear fell to the ground. He walked over to the bear and put it back onto the bed. "Make it move again." Nothing.

    Hackett moved to the second room. The blankets were blue and there were wooden swords on the table. He grabbed the swords and ran his fingers along the smooth blade. "Any ghouls in here?" Nothing.

    Hackett moved to the last bedroom. There were bottles of perfume and trinkets on a dresser across from the bed. He grabbed a perfume and took a whiff, then sniffed out with disgust. "Any ghouls in here?" Nothing.

    "There's never anything to be frightened of," said Hackett. A perfume bottle fell off the dresser and shattered. It was pungent and instantly began to make his head ping with pain.

    "Just fake ghouls created by childish minds. By the Twelve, if you are real, all you can do is knock over perfume! You're nothing to be afraid of!" At that very moment, he felt something slam into him, which made him fall to the ground, followed by a blast of cold air against his legs. Hackett saw no one around and let out a scream. He began to run back to the exit of the castle where the staff members were waiting.

    As he ran, he looked down and noticed his pants had been ripped clean off of his legs. He then heard a deep, devilish laugh, "An old wash up. HA! Any ghouls in here?" Laughter from hundreds of ghouls began emanating from all rooms. As he cleared the front door, the staff's eyes grew wide with terror, Hackett kept screaming, "GHOULS!"



    And that, darrrrlings, was the last they ever saw Screaming Berrrtram Hackett."
    (1)

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