The Valorous
New Adventurer
Hey. I just got bored with playing the same old games and having nothing else to do in this damn town during a (school) weekday, so I started writing again.
It's a first-person narrative in the life of an unknown (as of now) character living in Daragoth. This first part doesn't have much human interaction, so the dialogue is just to the character's self. I might do more if any of you like it, or, if I get bored with life and become... motivated.
Anyways, here it is:
It was just another day in Daragoth. This morning, I was awakened by a putrid stench coming from somewhere. My head was throbbing; no doubt a result from the excess consumption of alcohol the previous night. I lay there for a little bit, thinking that soon I would doze off and sleep off the hangover, but the awful smell would not go away. Eventually, I regained awareness of myself, as well as my surroundings.
I was still grasping that âspecialâ ale that I bought from the barkeep, but upon further inspection by way of shaking the container, I realized it was almost empty. Despite the less-than-positive findings, I decided to crosscheck my previous observation with my mouth. I put the ale jar to my mouth and expected liquid to flow out, but instead, a black spider peered through the opening and crawled out onto my tongue. Good enough, I guess. I bit hard, and the spider let out a resoundingly arachnid squeal, before being swallowed by my mouth and consumed by my stomach. I had my breakfast, but I was still pissed that there was no ale left in the container. I was sidetracked from my rage, however, by the stench coming from somewhere else. It just wouldnât go away.
I looked around me, looking for any possible source of the smell in the tavernâs party room. There were many bodies around the room, strewn out like naked fertilizer on an otherwise unimpressive soil. Yes, they were naked. Some sick orgy mustâve taken place right after I had passed out. Damn, I missed out. Then it hit me. Those bastards mustâve scribbled all over my face. I had been in these situations before, though most of the time, I was the one doing all the drawing. I went towards the closest mirror, which was actually pretty far with all the sleeping prostitutes laid out all around the floor. I weaved around the bodies and made my way to the mirror.
Well damn. They wrote on me. It wasnât as bad as I thought it would be, though. They tattooed tribal markings all over my face and on my forehead, which was now shaved bald. I wouldâve been really pissed and started the slaying if it werenât for the fact that the tattoos actually looked pretty cool. No phallic shapes or naked trolls mating all over my face. My anger had almost subsided until I remembered the damn smell.
I found nothing in the room, so I decided to check outside. Maybe someone left some rotting cow carcass outside or something. I opened the door, expecting something of that nature to fall out, but instead, I was greeted with something more troubling. I saw two giant legs, which was attached to a giant belly, which seemed to be digesting some beans or melted cheese, as it was expanding and contracting quickly. Attached to the belly was the rest of the torso: a giant mass of fat and sweat. The troll's shoulders were slumped like a sloth's, and were attached to two giant arms that dragged on the ground. And to top it all off, there was a giant drooling bald head at the top. As it turned out, a troll was camping right outside the door. Damn it! I shut the door quickly, but soon I found that I had the curse that all of humanity has: curiosity.
I opened the door again slowly, expecting the giant buffoon-looking thing to not notice. Instead, I was greeted by a bucket load of saliva to my face, which felt pretty syrupy and tasted kind of tangy. It peered at me with its giant bulging eyes, and I stared back, giving the best rendition of a fearless hero that I could. Realizing that staring it down would not be the best thing to do however, I closed the door and ran for my weapons. I expected it to rip open the roof and clobber me and then eat the rest of the sleeping beauties (and the not-so beauties). Glad that didnât happen.
I came out of the door again, this time fully clothed and armored, as well as fully equipped with sword and shield. The damn thing just continued to stare at me like a dumbfounded rat. Then, its brain functions kicked in. He saw my sword, which was shiny, then he saw my armor, which was also shiny. The trollâs posture changed, and without much warning, tried to grab me. The damn thingâs attracted to shiny! It was like a kid, having fun with a pet dog, trying to grab and squeeze the shiny man. However, unlike a kid, trolls had a nasty reputation for squeezing and smashing the life out of many creatures, most notably, armored soldiers.
I was still wary of attacking it, even though I had full intention of slaying the thing and selling its head for bounty, especially since it drooled over me. I was also pretty pissed when I figured that the stench was coming from him. He probably ate a couple of people out on the streets. Thatâs when I became fully awake. I looked around and noticed burning buildings and burning people. I heard cries, which was followed by war chants, clanking metals, and, finally, a lot of unruly grunting. Orcs. Meh.
I decided to play with the troll for a little bit. The troll, by this time, had become increasingly less happy and more determined to get the shiny man (me) and either: squeeze it, or, smash it. It was a pretty stupid creature, and I began to toy with the giant retard by sidestepping whenever it swung its heavy maul-like arms. Eventually, it got enraged. It started swinging at full force, smashing the grocer stands nearby. I ran to one of the wrecked stands and picked up a watermelon, which I proceeded to throw at his face. The watermelon shattered as it collided with the troll's forehead. The troll staggered back a little before regaining its balance. I found that fun and slightly amusing so I picked up a few more and continued to throw. The first few ones bounced off his forehead, which enraged him slightly more. The fifth throw, however, was a success, as I hit him in the left eye. The troll began to scratch at its left eye, angrier now than annoyed; so much so that it let out a howl only a troll would know how to do.
Aw crap. I have to end it now. I lunged forward towards the troll and sunk my blade into his belly, cutting to the right and exiting near its left kidney. The troll, still alive but now gushing out its intestines, swung at me and finally connected, flinging me towards a wall. I hit the wall with such tremendous force that I hit my head on one of the stones and knocked me out. The last thing I remembered before I lost my consciousness was the howling of orcs, which were getting louder and stronger.
I awoke a couple hours later. My head was still buzzing. There was a dead orc on my lap, an arrow piercing the back of its skull. I looked around and checked my limbs to see if they were still all attached to my torso. Everything seemed fine. I looked at my surroundings and saw that almost the entire town had been burnt down, including the tavern. There were bodies of humans and orcs lying about all over the ground, though none of them were recognizable. They were all dead, cut from each otherâs weapons. I searched for their weapons, only to find them missing. Next, I decided to head to the tavern, which, I found out, had been burnt down by the pesky orcs. The troll was still out in front: dead, with its intestines strung out along the path it took before collapsing to its death.
It was time to collect my prize. I went towards where the head wouldâve been, only to find that its head was severed. Damn it. Whoâs the bastard who stole my bounty? I sighed, then, I headed out towards the exit, which led to the next town. Looking up at the exit sign as I passed, I muttered to myself: Iâm never going back to Helena. I pulled out my water container from my pack and took a sip as I walked off into the darkening afternoon.
It was just another day in Daragoth.
It's a first-person narrative in the life of an unknown (as of now) character living in Daragoth. This first part doesn't have much human interaction, so the dialogue is just to the character's self. I might do more if any of you like it, or, if I get bored with life and become... motivated.
Anyways, here it is:
It was just another day in Daragoth. This morning, I was awakened by a putrid stench coming from somewhere. My head was throbbing; no doubt a result from the excess consumption of alcohol the previous night. I lay there for a little bit, thinking that soon I would doze off and sleep off the hangover, but the awful smell would not go away. Eventually, I regained awareness of myself, as well as my surroundings.
I was still grasping that âspecialâ ale that I bought from the barkeep, but upon further inspection by way of shaking the container, I realized it was almost empty. Despite the less-than-positive findings, I decided to crosscheck my previous observation with my mouth. I put the ale jar to my mouth and expected liquid to flow out, but instead, a black spider peered through the opening and crawled out onto my tongue. Good enough, I guess. I bit hard, and the spider let out a resoundingly arachnid squeal, before being swallowed by my mouth and consumed by my stomach. I had my breakfast, but I was still pissed that there was no ale left in the container. I was sidetracked from my rage, however, by the stench coming from somewhere else. It just wouldnât go away.
I looked around me, looking for any possible source of the smell in the tavernâs party room. There were many bodies around the room, strewn out like naked fertilizer on an otherwise unimpressive soil. Yes, they were naked. Some sick orgy mustâve taken place right after I had passed out. Damn, I missed out. Then it hit me. Those bastards mustâve scribbled all over my face. I had been in these situations before, though most of the time, I was the one doing all the drawing. I went towards the closest mirror, which was actually pretty far with all the sleeping prostitutes laid out all around the floor. I weaved around the bodies and made my way to the mirror.
Well damn. They wrote on me. It wasnât as bad as I thought it would be, though. They tattooed tribal markings all over my face and on my forehead, which was now shaved bald. I wouldâve been really pissed and started the slaying if it werenât for the fact that the tattoos actually looked pretty cool. No phallic shapes or naked trolls mating all over my face. My anger had almost subsided until I remembered the damn smell.
I found nothing in the room, so I decided to check outside. Maybe someone left some rotting cow carcass outside or something. I opened the door, expecting something of that nature to fall out, but instead, I was greeted with something more troubling. I saw two giant legs, which was attached to a giant belly, which seemed to be digesting some beans or melted cheese, as it was expanding and contracting quickly. Attached to the belly was the rest of the torso: a giant mass of fat and sweat. The troll's shoulders were slumped like a sloth's, and were attached to two giant arms that dragged on the ground. And to top it all off, there was a giant drooling bald head at the top. As it turned out, a troll was camping right outside the door. Damn it! I shut the door quickly, but soon I found that I had the curse that all of humanity has: curiosity.
I opened the door again slowly, expecting the giant buffoon-looking thing to not notice. Instead, I was greeted by a bucket load of saliva to my face, which felt pretty syrupy and tasted kind of tangy. It peered at me with its giant bulging eyes, and I stared back, giving the best rendition of a fearless hero that I could. Realizing that staring it down would not be the best thing to do however, I closed the door and ran for my weapons. I expected it to rip open the roof and clobber me and then eat the rest of the sleeping beauties (and the not-so beauties). Glad that didnât happen.
I came out of the door again, this time fully clothed and armored, as well as fully equipped with sword and shield. The damn thing just continued to stare at me like a dumbfounded rat. Then, its brain functions kicked in. He saw my sword, which was shiny, then he saw my armor, which was also shiny. The trollâs posture changed, and without much warning, tried to grab me. The damn thingâs attracted to shiny! It was like a kid, having fun with a pet dog, trying to grab and squeeze the shiny man. However, unlike a kid, trolls had a nasty reputation for squeezing and smashing the life out of many creatures, most notably, armored soldiers.
I was still wary of attacking it, even though I had full intention of slaying the thing and selling its head for bounty, especially since it drooled over me. I was also pretty pissed when I figured that the stench was coming from him. He probably ate a couple of people out on the streets. Thatâs when I became fully awake. I looked around and noticed burning buildings and burning people. I heard cries, which was followed by war chants, clanking metals, and, finally, a lot of unruly grunting. Orcs. Meh.
I decided to play with the troll for a little bit. The troll, by this time, had become increasingly less happy and more determined to get the shiny man (me) and either: squeeze it, or, smash it. It was a pretty stupid creature, and I began to toy with the giant retard by sidestepping whenever it swung its heavy maul-like arms. Eventually, it got enraged. It started swinging at full force, smashing the grocer stands nearby. I ran to one of the wrecked stands and picked up a watermelon, which I proceeded to throw at his face. The watermelon shattered as it collided with the troll's forehead. The troll staggered back a little before regaining its balance. I found that fun and slightly amusing so I picked up a few more and continued to throw. The first few ones bounced off his forehead, which enraged him slightly more. The fifth throw, however, was a success, as I hit him in the left eye. The troll began to scratch at its left eye, angrier now than annoyed; so much so that it let out a howl only a troll would know how to do.
Aw crap. I have to end it now. I lunged forward towards the troll and sunk my blade into his belly, cutting to the right and exiting near its left kidney. The troll, still alive but now gushing out its intestines, swung at me and finally connected, flinging me towards a wall. I hit the wall with such tremendous force that I hit my head on one of the stones and knocked me out. The last thing I remembered before I lost my consciousness was the howling of orcs, which were getting louder and stronger.
I awoke a couple hours later. My head was still buzzing. There was a dead orc on my lap, an arrow piercing the back of its skull. I looked around and checked my limbs to see if they were still all attached to my torso. Everything seemed fine. I looked at my surroundings and saw that almost the entire town had been burnt down, including the tavern. There were bodies of humans and orcs lying about all over the ground, though none of them were recognizable. They were all dead, cut from each otherâs weapons. I searched for their weapons, only to find them missing. Next, I decided to head to the tavern, which, I found out, had been burnt down by the pesky orcs. The troll was still out in front: dead, with its intestines strung out along the path it took before collapsing to its death.
It was time to collect my prize. I went towards where the head wouldâve been, only to find that its head was severed. Damn it. Whoâs the bastard who stole my bounty? I sighed, then, I headed out towards the exit, which led to the next town. Looking up at the exit sign as I passed, I muttered to myself: Iâm never going back to Helena. I pulled out my water container from my pack and took a sip as I walked off into the darkening afternoon.
It was just another day in Daragoth.