EZ_Sgean
11-09-00, 01:07 PM
Ever since I was killed by a woodelf who was healed by a barbarian, I have hated those who betray our kin. 'Tis a heartbreaking thing ta behold, when a brother or sister o' the north turns their back on our forefathers and becomes an elf lover, or a peck's plaything.
'Tis no better, ta see noble bluebloods degrade themself in 't same manner. It makes me blood boil wi' more hatred that Bristlebane would let me. But I am an unbound soul, and I let my wrath run free.
One day, my forefathers' sprits must have decided to grant me a special favor:
Running through 't eastern plains of Karana wi' me Shank brothers, we came upon such a traitor. She was a human cleric, and her companion a male woodelf. They were fighting a cyclops, and were many seasons our seniors. But as long as our shaman could root the pointy eared son o' a goblin, we reckoned we should be able ta kill him good, as he had been hurt badly by 't cyclops.
Our only fear was, that root would nae stick or even that our shaman might run out of mana from rooting the pointy eared one, before we managed to cut him down -- it all depended on 't human cleric's supply of mana.
The cyclops fell, and 't magic flew from our shaman's fingertips, rooting 't elf's feet to the ground. We rushed in, frenzied, cutting into his worthless hide, praying to our forefathers that our blades were sharp enough, our cuts deep enough to overcome 't traitor cleric's healing power.
That's when I looked down, and there, by our feet, was the cleric, kneeling, trying to bandage her elf. I screamed in panic: "RUN LADS, RUN! WE'RE DONE FER! SHE'S GOT BANDAGES!"
We burst out laughing.
The elf collapsed in 't sand as a rain of blades hungrily drew his last drops of life. We were still laughing, when we stepped away from 't lifeless, mangled carcass.
The cleric kneeled by the body, and started crying, quietly.
I looked at her. "Hay, yer nae much of a cleric, are ye? Do ye nae have majik spells and such, ta heal yer lovers with?" I asked, wi' an evil grin.
"SHANKS!"
/ooc
Crossteaming, with immortal healers, is a plague on the Team PvP server Vallon. It is cheap and easy, and does a lot to destroy rp efforts.
If you read, and like my tales, please put reply with a word or two -- it goes a long way to keep my spirits up, and keep posting, and it is very much appreciated. Thanks )
Shanks Initiate, and Thug of Vallon Zek
'Tis no better, ta see noble bluebloods degrade themself in 't same manner. It makes me blood boil wi' more hatred that Bristlebane would let me. But I am an unbound soul, and I let my wrath run free.
One day, my forefathers' sprits must have decided to grant me a special favor:
Running through 't eastern plains of Karana wi' me Shank brothers, we came upon such a traitor. She was a human cleric, and her companion a male woodelf. They were fighting a cyclops, and were many seasons our seniors. But as long as our shaman could root the pointy eared son o' a goblin, we reckoned we should be able ta kill him good, as he had been hurt badly by 't cyclops.
Our only fear was, that root would nae stick or even that our shaman might run out of mana from rooting the pointy eared one, before we managed to cut him down -- it all depended on 't human cleric's supply of mana.
The cyclops fell, and 't magic flew from our shaman's fingertips, rooting 't elf's feet to the ground. We rushed in, frenzied, cutting into his worthless hide, praying to our forefathers that our blades were sharp enough, our cuts deep enough to overcome 't traitor cleric's healing power.
That's when I looked down, and there, by our feet, was the cleric, kneeling, trying to bandage her elf. I screamed in panic: "RUN LADS, RUN! WE'RE DONE FER! SHE'S GOT BANDAGES!"
We burst out laughing.
The elf collapsed in 't sand as a rain of blades hungrily drew his last drops of life. We were still laughing, when we stepped away from 't lifeless, mangled carcass.
The cleric kneeled by the body, and started crying, quietly.
I looked at her. "Hay, yer nae much of a cleric, are ye? Do ye nae have majik spells and such, ta heal yer lovers with?" I asked, wi' an evil grin.
"SHANKS!"
/ooc
Crossteaming, with immortal healers, is a plague on the Team PvP server Vallon. It is cheap and easy, and does a lot to destroy rp efforts.
If you read, and like my tales, please put reply with a word or two -- it goes a long way to keep my spirits up, and keep posting, and it is very much appreciated. Thanks )
Shanks Initiate, and Thug of Vallon Zek