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Registered: 11-2008
Posts: 6
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Ladies and Gentlemen, Your Shiznit Has Been Fudged Up.


The heavy wooden door slammed open, bringing with it a swirl of icy wind and biting snow. Two forms slid into the tavern's filthy common room, as every pair of eyes present turned to pay witness. The Green Gag was not the finest of establishments, commonly home to a myriad of mercenaries and thugs. Blood had been spilled once this evening, and chance favored a repeat.

The first figure was a slender man swathed in a rainbow of colors and patterns. Close fitting brigantine wrapped his body along with violently vibrant sashes and tassels. A mop of auburn hair was adorned with a crown forged of a sinister black metal. Green eyes surveyed their surroundings, subconsciously judging every fighter in the room. He glared at a particularly shabby group in the corner, staring with frank animosity.

The second was clad in black and gold brigantine armor from the neck down. A high collar and sinister mask covered his throat and face, leaving little skin revealed. A dark grey scabbard two and a half feet long crossed the small of his back. Both had wicked two-handed swords slung across their backs. Scabbards and grips were worn from long usage and hard living.

The masked man turned to his left and spoke to his companion, “Samson. Table.”

“Lay off, Jin.” He replied, turning his eyes toward a table near the roaring fireplace.

The pair stalked to the secluded table and collapsed heavily into the worn benches. Angry glances thrown in their direction from cutthroats and sellswords were casually ignored and discarded. A plump serving girl sashayed up to the table, evading the crude pinches and grasps of nearby patrons. Grey eyes that might have once been considered pretty, now just looked weary and tired.

“What’ll it be?” her husky voice asked.

Reaching up, Jin removed his shroud and mask, revealing exotic almond shaped eyes and a shock of black hair. Seven gold rings adorned his left ear, and a scar crossed his right eye, giving him a rakish air.

“Your finest wine,” and glancing at his surly friend added, “And a pint of ale.”
Samson glanced up at her, lust and insanity evident on his handsome face, his head tilted to the side appraisingly. The girl smiled at his interest and smoothly stepped away from the table, hips swaying invitingly.

“She wants me,” he stated bluntly after she had exited to the kitchen.

“Your inelegance never ceases to astound me.” Jin replied.

Within a few minutes she returned, bearing a tray and drinks. In addition, she had brought a bowl of stew and loaf of bread. Setting it down on the table, she turned to leave. A hand reached out and she fell giggling and willingly into Samson’s lap. With a long suffering sigh, Jin took a sip of his wine, immediately regretting choosing such a low-brow establishment.

The night crawled on, and the common room became a roaring sea of crude conversations and arguments. The pair stayed in their corner observing the raucous atmosphere surrounding them. Jin absorbed in his own thoughts and Samson openly leering at the serving girl, who was being harassed by same group of ruffians he’d stared at earlier.

Before long the gang kicked back their chairs and left their table, intently making their way through the crush towards Jin and Samson’s corner. Eager hands fingered belt knives and daggers, and some even loosened their swords in their scabbards. Their leader, a huge, scarred bloke, slammed a dagger into the tabletop, shaking the booth and upsetting the tankard of ale.

“I know you’re going to buy me another.” Samson casually remarked. He flashed a wry smile and beckoned to the serving wench across the room. She smiled at him and rushed off to get another tankard.

“Oi’m Yorik the Strangler, ‘ead o’tha Blood Brothas, and this is our tavern. Why dun you ugly blokes git out ‘afore we’s get to breakin’ ya skulls in?” A slack-jawed grin accompanied the last few words, promising violence and retribution.

Jin glanced towards Samson, “Finally,” he said. “We’ve been waiting all night for this, haven’t we?” Samson grinned wickedly, “That we have, Jin.” Both looked at Yorik and his crew, and all the conversations in the room trailed off as everyone turned to watch the exchange. Throughout the tavern mercenaries stood and drew blades, the possibility of violence, and the blur of alcohol calling them to arms.

Both Jin and Samson stood, and Yorik took a few steps back in surprise. Who were these two characters? Why did they think they could take an entire inn filled with hardened soldiers and criminals? His doubts drowned in foolishness, and his confidence returned as he howled, “GET’M BOYS!!!”

Samson moved first, drawing steel in the blink of an eye. His sword was forged of the same dark metal as his crown, a dull abomination of warfare, closer to a bludgeon than a blade. The words “Karma Coma” were visibly etched near the tip in crude lettering. Sweeping to his left, he caught Yorik in the stomach with the hilt and continuing his spin annihilated the man standing behind him.

Next, Jin drew his own sword, a blade forged in the East by a legendary sword smith, and taken from the lifeless corpse of its last owner a decade ago. The characters proclaiming the sword as “Dynasty” sat near the hilt, skillfully engraved during the creation. The razor sharp edge immediately separated one head from its owner, and proceeded to weave a dance of death through the room.

The pair transformed into death incarnate, and the dead piled up. The artificial rage running through their veins burned as their blood started flowing. Snow. Screams. Death. The floor became slick with blood of the fallen, the air pierced by the cries of the dead and dying. Within seconds the fight disintegrated from a bloodbath into a rout. Mercenaries with decades of experience scrambled to stay free of Jin’s technique and Samson’s fury. The door became inundated with a crush of fleeing souls.

From his view on the floor, Yorik realized his mistake. He’d heard tales of this pair of legendary desperados. Men who made the mountains shake and brought generals to their knees. The last thing his mortal eyes saw were a pair of madly grinning faces, merciless and unforgiving.


Stepping out into the cold once more, Jin looked at Samson, flexing his gauntleted hand. His hunger for combat and chaos abated and satisfied. Samson glanced back, a happy smile plastered to his face.
“So, that was brilliant fun, where to next?”
12/21/2008, 4:20 pm Link to this post Send Email to sexofang   Send PM to sexofang
 
Jarred NightThorne Profile
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Registered: 06-2007
Location: Neverwhere
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Re: Ladies and Gentlemen, Your Shiznit Has Been Fudged Up.


lovely

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I'm going to take whatever you haven't nailed down... Nevermind... I'll take that too.
12/22/2008, 8:45 am Link to this post Send Email to Jarred NightThorne   Send PM to Jarred NightThorne
 
Ichabodz Profile
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Registered: 09-2006
Location: Henge
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Re: Ladies and Gentlemen, Your Shiznit Has Been Fudged Up.


I need a change of shorts! epic!

---
Intelligence intermingles inconspicuously inside insanity...
12/25/2008, 2:05 am Link to this post Send Email to Ichabodz   Send PM to Ichabodz
 
Eternal Skye Profile
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Registered: 11-2007
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Re: Ladies and Gentlemen, Your Shiznit Has Been Fudged Up.


that was awesome...the word choice made me melt...

---
"Who was the fool, who the wise man, beggar or king? Whether poor or rich, all is the same in death."
~Eternal Skye Temperance~
12/25/2008, 8:13 pm Link to this post Send Email to Eternal Skye   Send PM to Eternal Skye
 


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