Another Day in the Land of Daragoth

The Valorous

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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. o_O

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 “special” 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 wouldn’t go away.

I looked around me, looking for any possible source of the smell in the tavern’s 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 must’ve taken place right after I had passed out. Damn, I missed out. Then it hit me. Those bastards must’ve 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 wasn’t 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 would’ve been really pissed and started the slaying if it weren’t 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 didn’t 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 troll’s posture changed, and without much warning, tried to grab me. The damn thing’s 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. That’s 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 other’s 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 would’ve been, only to find that its head was severed. Damn it. Who’s 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: I’m 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.
 

The Man In Black

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I lol'd. Great story!

A few critiques:
-The main character just kinda *knew* that they had written on him. Perhaps you could say he caught a slight reflection from the ale's vial?
-The description process of the troll was very good, but you probably shouldn't have included as many parts as you did. Also, you mention one shoulder and say it has 2 arms on it.
-You used "enrage(d)" far too much. This is the internet - you should have plenty of synonyms for enraging trolls! (I lol'd a lil)

Again, great story. Write moar!
 

CrazyMonkeyDude

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TBH, at least in present setting, going to a big party, getting trashed, and passing out before an orgy... It seems common that someone would get written on. At least, the parties I've been to have done that (No orgies, though :( ).
 

The Valorous

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The Man In Black said:
A few critiques:
-The main character just kinda *knew* that they had written on him. Perhaps you could say he caught a slight reflection from the ale's vial?
-The description process of the troll was very good, but you probably shouldn't have included as many parts as you did. Also, you mention one shoulder and say it has 2 arms on it.
-You used "enrage(d)" far too much. This is the internet - you should have plenty of synonyms for enraging trolls! (I lol'd a lil)

1. Shad and CMD have it right with the going to parties thing, but yeah I should've said something about previous experiences or something.
2. lol. You're right. I'm going to edit the part with the shoulders, and maybe a couple of the parts.
3. The whole time I was writing about the troll raging, I kept thinking of all the LANs I've been to lately, where people "rage quit". I couldn't really think of anything else at the time. I'll go fix that, too.

I probably won't edit any of these tonight, but definitely tomorrow. And a second part might also come by tomorrow.
Last but not least, thanks for the criticisms. :p

Tuesday Edit: I forgot I have basketball night tonight, so postponed until the next day.
Thursday Edit: Second draft finished. Next story will be coming in about... an hour.
 

The Valorous

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Writer's Note: I got lazy and put in a magical backpack for humor purposes (in place of a sword sheath, which is shown earlier on the story). Also, it might be a little crappy in quality because of two things: many writer's blocks and also because I put on some rap music.

It was starting to get dark when I left Helena, but I was determined to find the rat bastard who took my troll head. I was determined not to stop for anyone, but my stomach had its own plans. First, it demanded was some food. I had not eaten anything today, save for the crunchy little spider that provided very little nourishment for me. It was even worse that I didn't have any ale.

I spotted a wild boar not too far from where I was standing. It was eating some bugs on the grass. Good, it's not paying any attention to me. I unsheathed my sword and began to creep up on my next meal. It had not noticed my presence until it was too late. I was standing right behind my dinner. I brought my sword upwards above my head, and in one quick motion, I swung down, my weapon connecting with the boar's flesh. A few moments later, I was chowing down next to my newly built, well-designed campfire (as my medieval Obsessive Compulsive Disorder would allow it).

I was enjoying my meal when my stomach interrupted me, again. I guess the spider hadn't digested as well as I thought it would, and I was immediately looking for the deepest hole in the ground I could find. I finally found one near the stump of a rotting oak tree and proceeded to do my business when an arrow came flying out from nowhere and landed on the ground next to my foot. I immediately pulled up my trousers, forgetting the courtesy of proper sanitation, and rushed towards the campfire near where my pack was stashed.

I had just about reached my weapons pocket in my magical backpack when another arrow came whizzing past my head. Either this guy sucks at aiming, or he's just trying to f*ck with me. I decided to forego the usual equipment for this situation (a bow and quiver full of arrows comes to mind), and instead, pulled out my long-dead grandfather's claymore. How a claymore could fit in a backpack still perplexed me, but I was not one to question magical backpacks, especially at this time of danger and urgency to beat the living hell out of whoever was shooting at me. The little pansy sniper boy was taking his time with his shots, which confirmed that he was trying to f*ck with me. Well I'm not gonna have any of that. I bobbed and weaved around the flat plain, hoping that the sniper boy was going to take a shot to see if he was done messing with me and actually wanted to kill me, but I forgot to calculate how bad an idea it would be to execute while wearing heavy plate armor. Nevertheless, I continued my bobbing and weaving until I got to within ten meters of the target.

The person shooting at me looked familiar, and as I approached, I noticed the big grin on the man's facial hair-ridden face. I finally recognized who it was that was shooting at me. Oh, that smirking little bastard. I dropped my claymore in the middle of my last bob and picked up a rock, which I threw in the middle of my last weave. I hit him in the middle of his forehead, causing him to fall backwards, knocking him off his feet.

He quickly got up after falling over and yelled some random expletives at me. I yelled back at him: "Hey Moran, you dirty little rat bastard. Where's my money?"

He replied: "I got it right here Istvan, you self-serving inbred."

I laughed, then I socked him in the face hard (thought not too hard), knocking him over again. I took the money, helped him up, and headed back to my camp to finish my food. Moran followed closely behind after searching for a couple of his teeth that fell on the ground, which I conveniently knocked out with that well-placed sucker punch. He pulled out the ale from his pack, and with a grin, I allowed him to live for a couple more months.

Soon, Moran, not trusting me to spare his life, decided to leave my camp to set up on his own farther down the plains. He told me that he didn't have my troll head, and I believed him. I went to bed content for the day with the good meal and some good ale, but determined to find the bastard who took my troll head.

So ended another drunken night in Daragoth.
 

The Man In Black

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I had an uncle named Istvan...Best thing about that card was that the creature type, which normally would have been "human" or "zombie" was "uncle istvan" ;-)

"Pansy sniper boy" was used way too much =|

Really could have done without the "upset stomach" imagery.

Moran could have used a backstory of some sort, plus a name that was further from "moron" :p I also know that if I met a friend while camping, we wouldn't have separated into two different camps

All those adventurers knowing OCD, right? :p

Good story.
 

The Valorous

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The Man In Black said:
"Pansy sniper boy" was used way too much =|

Really could have done without the "upset stomach" imagery.

Moran could have used a backstory of some sort, plus a name that was further from "moron" :p I also know that if I met a friend while camping, we wouldn't have separated into two different camps

All those adventurers knowing OCD, right? :p

Will edit all soon, but right now I decided to write a third chapter, which cuts abruptly (similar to the writer's strike-shortened seasons of tv series) because I couldn't sleep with all this Red Bull in my blood. Will edit and revise tomorrow.


The next day began as eventful as the previous day. I had stayed up into the twilight hours, so I wasn’t awake until midday. I had another hangover, though the absence of naked women around me greatly disappointed me. Moran had left a note next to my backpack. He gave me a hint to search for the troll head thief in the nearby city of Edana. In return for his services, he had taken my boar pelt as payment. That little rat bastard. He also noted that the next time I assaulted him, his association would kidnap my family and torture them. I grinned at the thought of his sudden burst of confidence. Too bad I don’t care. I packed up my camp and headed towards Edana, which I heard was a beautiful city bustling of life as well as naïve adventurers. Easy pickings.

After a couple of hours, I finally reached the province surrounding Edana. There were minstrels and homeless folk milling around, as well as some adventurers running up and down a hill that led to some god’s temple. Every now and again, an adventurer would stop by me and try to convince me to convert to their almighty deity and to promote the balance in the land. I usually socked them in the face and took their money, leaving them their robes and a few broken facial features.

I proceeded to the city entrance, where I met the city guard captain Edrin. He seemed like a decent man, but soon I learned how redundant he could be. He greeted me warily, but at the same time he warned me not to cause any trouble in town. I complied and gave him most of my weapons, as per rule in the city to be disarmed. However, I was able to keep my hunting knife and my compact crossbow, both of which I hung over my belt. I would pass by him every now and again as I conducted my interrogation of the city folk, and each time he gave me the same old warning. I could’ve decked him if I really felt like it, especially since he sounded like a constantly repeating echo, but I felt that it wasn’t high priority to have personal fun with the entire city guard. At least, not at this time.

My first stop in this interrogation trip was very obvious. I entered the tavern and began questioning the local barflies. Most were too inebriated and few of them just readily complied with anything I would say, including giving up their entire family fortune for another drink. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately for them), their family fortunes usually consisted of farmland and one or two cows. I didn’t really feel like settling down on a farm, so I didn’t take full advantage of the situation. Offers of trades for alcohol continued to pour in: one tried to trade me a cowbell for another pint. For a moment, I thought I could use the cowbell for something, like starting my music career. Good thing the thought only lasted a moment. I figured I’d get nothing from these people, so after a couple of drinks, I headed out towards the next venue: the blacksmith’s.

The blacksmith’s was located in the mayor’s district, which seemed to me as an odd placing for a venue. An invading army can use the blacksmith’s to supply themselves with the siege of the mayor’s villa. Maybe I’ll try that someday. There was a long line waiting at the blacksmith’s, though none of the customers were suddenly pulling out troll heads for bartering. One of the customers was familiar to me, though. A tall dark-skinned male with a bow slung over his shoulder was about ten feet in front of me, with two people in-between. It was Moran. I grinned. He’s trying to sell my boar pelt. I pushed the two people in front of me to the side, approached Moran without him noticing, and smacked him on the backside of his head with my left hand.

He grabbed his head and angrily turned around towards me. He was about to pull out his dagger when he noticed who had hit him. “Istvan!” He grinned. I decked him in the face. He recoiled in pain, grabbing onto his nose, though no blood came out.

“Sorry, something about your grin just annoys the hell out of me.” I patted him on the back and ensured that he didn’t break his nose on my fist. I laughed for a bit, then, I got serious. “Moran, where is this bastard with my troll head?”

Moran, still grabbing his nose, replied: “It’s not a bastard. It’s a b*tch.” He pointed with his right hand to the woman in front of him while holding his nose with his left hand.
I moved Moran out of the way and stood directly behind her. I was shocked for a bit, but it wasn’t because she was a woman. I didn’t really care if it was a man or a woman who took my damn troll head. I was shocked because of her appearance. She had a booty on her, and I didn’t mean gold treasure. Her long blonde hair covered most of her upper body, but I could tell from her long pointy ears that jutted from her hair that she was an elf. I thought they were supposed to have great senses, including good hearing, but I guess she didn’t hear Moran and I talking three feet behind her. I guess you could say that I was slightly attracted to her, but that didn’t stop me from confronting her about my damn troll head.

I froze for a moment, sniffing her fragrance, which could only be described as pure. I tapped her right shoulder, which was naked. She slowly turned her head around, her green piercing eyes staring innocently at my hollow brown eyes. She mouthed something, but I couldn’t understand. I just stood there, frozen in a staring match with her. I didn't really know why I froze, but it all abruptedly ended when out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Moran looking at me and her and laughing to himself. I quickly let him know that I was still in control (or pretended to be) by giving him a quick jab with my left arm right into his stomach. He staggered back and regained his balance, but it seemed that she and I remained still. My focus remained with this elf girl. We maintained eye contact with each other when she mouthed the same thing again. I heard her this time.

“What is it?” My focus went onto her lips, which were luscious and moist. I licked my own as if trying to make mine as moist as hers. She repeated her question a third time, and this time, I snapped out of my staring trance.

I began to mutter some words: “Umm… yes. I, uh… did you take my troll head?”

And so cliffhanged another day in Daragoth.
 

CrazyMonkeyDude

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lulz, I almost want to make an RP, but that'd be slightly... Pointless? I dunno, it'd probably be easier (not to mention more effective) in-game.


But I'm an RP nerd like that. :p
 

The Valorous

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Just got back from 2 days of camping out in a frozen lake. Will revise and add a new chapter in this same post either tonight or tomorrow, depending on the time required for my legs to thaw out.

Also, CMD, we used to have forum RPs in old old old writing sections of the MS forums. The creator of the thread would be the DM of sorts, and he/she'd wait for other people to introduce their characters. Of course, only serious people were allowed and any uber'd characters were subsequently put to death. I don't know if it'd work today, though.

Anyways, I'm off to take a shower. No shower for 2 days = grizzly beard and dead meat stench.
 

Tull

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The Valorous said:
Just got back from 2 days of camping out in a frozen lake. Will revise and add a new chapter in this same post either tonight or tomorrow, depending on the time required for my legs to thaw out.

Also, CMD, we used to have forum RPs in old old old writing sections of the MS forums. The creator of the thread would be the DM of sorts, and he/she'd wait for other people to introduce their characters. Of course, only serious people were allowed and any uber'd characters were subsequently put to death. I don't know if it'd work today, though.

Anyways, I'm off to take a shower. No shower for 2 days = grizzly beard and dead meat stench.
I remember reading some of those :O
 

CrazyMonkeyDude

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I would like to try one, some time, as I like to write. A lot. Most of the time.
 

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Zomg, completely forget about those until just mentioned.

Was in one of the longer lasting ones until I killed off my own char after getting bored of it :p. I'd actually like to see one of those one of these days if done properly.
 

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Ive read the first bit, il get round to reading the second bit later definately, what i read was good. Gj!
 

CrazyMonkeyDude

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Thraxis said:
Was in one of the longer lasting ones until I killed off my own char after getting bored of it :p. I'd actually like to see one of those one of these days if done properly.
Would you be willing to start another one? I've been toying around with the idea of making one.
 

The Valorous

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CrazyMonkeyDude said:
Thraxis said:
Was in one of the longer lasting ones until I killed off my own char after getting bored of it :p. I'd actually like to see one of those one of these days if done properly.
Would you be willing to start another one? I've been toying around with the idea of making one.

Do it, CMD. I was actually gonna suggest you start one when I posted the next part of my story, but I haven't been writing lately. So do it! I'll join in, too, and maybe I'll get my writer's touch back (so I could continue writing this story).
 

CrazyMonkeyDude

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Alright, let me brainstorm an overlying plot and a character sheet.

Or at least a character sheet, if you want it done tonight.
 
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