After starting off in the dwarven capital Tuftlands Urist Axeman began his journey down the steep mountain-side on foot.
The going were tough and many a mountain goat he did slay, the snow freezing his dwarven feet to the bone.
For every goat he did slay, he ripped off a leg and packed it up with him, for soon enough he would need such food stuffs.
Though there were no trees, no wood to cook, he did tear ravenously into the flesh of the goat leg.
It tasted of mutton to his hungry mouth, for any food was good, even raw rotting flesh.
Finally he reached a headwater, where a mighty river flowed from, leading him down the rocky mountain gorges into bushland and grass.
He took a steady drink in the lakes he did find, but did not bathe for that would be sacrilege to his Holy Dwarven Body.
He made camp just outside some trees and bushes, settling down for rest, when five Rhesus Macaque's did jump.
All over his primitive camp did they run, hooting and hollering, stealing his precious goat meat and melted ice water.
Urist was like any good dwarven axeman, and he did rage quite violently upon the creatures.
Ripping limbs and decapitating many did he slay.
It happened so quickly, then it was quiet. The sudden silence so severe, while Urist Axeman looked about the carnage he had reaped.
He packed up his things right quick, and went on his way.
Down south he flew, to the land of wild jungles and dirty hippies.
Once he did rest, he lit a fire to cook. As he was chopping down some bamboo trees of some sort, a little hippie child did spawn.
It ran at him and shouted "YOU HAVE SLAIN MY BROTHER! YOU STINKY DIRTY TROLL!"
Urist had never seen such a queer creature, as it told him the tree he had slain was named "Thickbark" and his eldest brother.
Urist found right quick these dirty hippie creatures who survived on welfare and unemployment deserved nothing but death.
So he raised his axe high and with one quick swing, the elven child's head leapt off it's shoulders.
Angered deeply by these dirty ugly cretins, Urist Axeman did show, the strength of GOOD DWARVEN STEEL.
One by one they came, smacking him and slapping him with ugly wooden sticks, and he did laugh as he split their skulls so easily, their leather helms useless.
He wondered where these foul socialist layabouts did spawn and found he did their lovely King who looked a lot like Prince.
The Princely King did yelp and squeel with gay joy for the Dwarf, for it had never seen such bronze and strength.
The dwarf we all love did what all good dwarves would do, and planted his newly named "Skullsplitter" in the Queer King's Head.
I don't know why any of you would want to read this
(More to come)
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Topic: Urist Axeman (Read 986 times)