13 Aug 2011
Been toying with writing a short story about a pair of mecenarys named Lionel and Hurtz but never really got into it so thought I would start this to try and get me motivated..
Without further adoo this is how are two comrades meet...
The think stench of mead curdled the air in the bar, the dizzy mumble of hushed voices walked across the thick stale atmosphere into he ears of any who would listen. Mugs beat a discordant rhythm as they where slammed against oak tables stained with spilt beer and muttered curses. Lionel sat alone. Dredging the last vestiges of his drink from the bottom of the flagon, his mind wandered. Wandered so far from his conscious self that he didnt notice the man sit opposite him until he spoke. Oi The noise came out sharp and quick, slicing through the bars din and into the ears of Lionel. What? Lionel growled back, transfixing the little man with a petrifying glare. But the man did not quaver. I think you should be a little more polite The little man sneered, revealing a row of pearl white teeth. Watch your tone little man Lionel felt the anger rise in him his control for it all but dismembered by the 8 flagons of mead. Now now temper temper The little man smiled his crooked smile again
Lionel rage erupted, accented by the smashing of his huge paws through the heavy oak table. 100 year old oak just ceased to exist under the force of such blows splintering it made its escape in all directions, showering the little man. The little man glided to his feet his shoulders flexed and he shifted his weight onto his back foot, his mean little eyes burrowed into the looming form of Lionel searching for some kind of weakness. There was none to be found. Lionel was a monster of a man, standing at 2 metres he was made of thick slabs of hard muscle over a heavy set bone frame that most orcs couldnt boast of. Lionel was Ostermarken born and bred. The bar had gone silent as the heads of every man turned to see what the fuss was about, realising it was just a brawl the din of chatter and drinking bubbled back into its stream of constant, discordant sound
Without further adoo this is how are two comrades meet...
The think stench of mead curdled the air in the bar, the dizzy mumble of hushed voices walked across the thick stale atmosphere into he ears of any who would listen. Mugs beat a discordant rhythm as they where slammed against oak tables stained with spilt beer and muttered curses. Lionel sat alone. Dredging the last vestiges of his drink from the bottom of the flagon, his mind wandered. Wandered so far from his conscious self that he didnt notice the man sit opposite him until he spoke. Oi The noise came out sharp and quick, slicing through the bars din and into the ears of Lionel. What? Lionel growled back, transfixing the little man with a petrifying glare. But the man did not quaver. I think you should be a little more polite The little man sneered, revealing a row of pearl white teeth. Watch your tone little man Lionel felt the anger rise in him his control for it all but dismembered by the 8 flagons of mead. Now now temper temper The little man smiled his crooked smile again
Lionel rage erupted, accented by the smashing of his huge paws through the heavy oak table. 100 year old oak just ceased to exist under the force of such blows splintering it made its escape in all directions, showering the little man. The little man glided to his feet his shoulders flexed and he shifted his weight onto his back foot, his mean little eyes burrowed into the looming form of Lionel searching for some kind of weakness. There was none to be found. Lionel was a monster of a man, standing at 2 metres he was made of thick slabs of hard muscle over a heavy set bone frame that most orcs couldnt boast of. Lionel was Ostermarken born and bred. The bar had gone silent as the heads of every man turned to see what the fuss was about, realising it was just a brawl the din of chatter and drinking bubbled back into its stream of constant, discordant sound