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[Kagus]

Another day, another tavern.

Baron Ballista'em walked through the door into the Twirling Pig tavern, and found who he was looking for almost immediately.

Tunem Umpigarin had settled his substantial girth into one of the chairs near the fireplace and was comfortably dozing, his ribbons of status fluttering atop his extensive midsection.

Baron Ballista'em moved over and cleared his throat.  Tunem snored in response.  The Baron cleared his throat again, this time eliciting a gargling cough as a ball of phlegm became frightened from all the noise and darted into the mayor's windpipe for safety.  He still slept soundly, in a meaning of the word that was most likely not originally intended.

Ballista'em kicked the leg of the chair the man was sitting on.  Instead of simply rousing the politician, the strain of holding the large man became too much for the kicked leg and it snapped, causing the chair to tip over and fling him  into the fireplace.

In a yodeling howl not unlike a startled moose, Tunem bolted up from the embers of the fireplace and charged towards the bar at the other end of the tavern's main room.

He tripped over the extended leg of a sleeping drunkard and began flailing around on the ground as he attempted to maneuver his bulk into standing.  The drunk, badly frightened from the ordeal and not yet fully awake, simply stared in wide-eyed horror while his head teetered on a sleep-loosened neck.  Eventually, he overbalanced and toppled over backwards in his chair.

Calmly, Baron Ballista'em walked over to the prone politician and pulled him onto his feet.  After brushing some of the ashes off of his clothes and pinching out the last cinders, Tunem presented a bright and cheery smile to the Baron.

"Why hello there!  I am Tunem Umpigarin, the mayor of this fine town, how can I help you?"

Rather than inquire as to why he was showing not even the recollection of having been on fire not long ago, Baron Ballista'em simply described his current lack of funding, and how he had come to the town seeking employment.

"You got a job for me?"

The mayor thought for a moment, humming a little to aid in his concentration.  Finally he looked up and said "Yes, I think I might have something for you.  there's a group of Darkelven bandits to the northwest of here, led by the bladedancer Finele 'Spatteredlizards'.  Kill the head of the snake and you kill the body, if you get my meaning..."  

The mayor grinned maliciously, and the Baron responded that he understood quite well.

"Yeah."

With that, Baron Ballista'em walked out of yet another house of ale, setting out once more on the road to uncertain fortune and certain bloodshed.

.

That's all for tonight, it's almost 1:00AM.  Sorry about the unimpressiveness of the story so far, but it's what I can come up with in my after-midnight writing sessions.

EDIT:  "When you arrive at your destination, heed my words and give yourself to gambling"

[ June 01, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]

[Kagus]

The tents were adorned with the tusks and horns of numerous animals slain by the bandits, either for sustenance or for sport.  The jawbones of strange predators hung over the entranceways of the tents, serving as gruesome trophies od the inhabitant's hunting prowess.

Roots snapped underneath the heavy footfalls of the Baron's steel boots, providing a crunching funereal march for the bladedancer 'Spatteredlizards'.

The unnaturally heightened senses of the darkelves picked up on this blatant approach, and the bandits began coming out of tents and from behind trees in the hopes of adding a human jawbone to their tent.

A rather formidable jawbone at that.

A hunter carrying a large curved weapon that looked more like a torture implement than an actual weapon and began shouting a glorious war cry as he flew out from the shadows and leapt at the human, barbed weapon held high.

The darkelf's air travel was cut short by a large steel bolt thudding squarely into his chest.  The force of the blow cause the bandit's chest to hang almost comically in mid-air as his legs continued on their journey unabated. Eventually, word of the torso's halt reached the legs, who then started a very brief but very violent argument with the upper reaches of the darkelf's body.  The end result was the body of a darkelf with his legs splayed wide in front of him and a rather startled expression frozen on his face.

The Baron deftly re-cocked the crossbow and fitted another bolt into the slot, almost immediately firing it into the next corpse-to-be in line.  Ballista'em made his way through the camp in similar fashion, leaving behind him a path that, although completely untouched except for the boot markings, was lined by dead or dying darkelves, most of them in some advanced state of perforation.

The Baron made his way to the big tent in the center of the encampment, noting of how it seemed palatial in size when compared to those surrounding it, and also of the fact that it was decorated with far more animal remnants than any of the others.  A sure sign of the occupant's status.

"When looking for the leader of a bunch of thugs, always look for what's biggest and horniest..." Ballista'em muttered to himself.

Planting another steel flower in the stomach of a bandit, the Baron ducked under the entrance flap and looked around.

Dirt.  Apparently, being the 'big boss' of a group of raiders didn't automatically entitle you to an actual floor.  You do get a lifetime supply of jawbone windchimes, however.  There was no sign of the bladedancer.

The Baron stepped back outside in a state that would normally be termed "mildly annoyed", but in the Baron's case meant a painful death for some sapient creature in his vicinity.

Two guards, apparently attempting to overwhelm the Baron using superior numbers, charged out of a nearby tent and rushed Ballista'em.  Taking only the most obligatory aim, the Baron opened and then plugged a hole in the intestines of the darkelf to the right.  In the momentary hesitation of the darkelf on the left, he threw his crossbow and knocked the second darkelf to the ground.

As the second darkelf started to regain his consciousness, Ballista'em walked over and put one heavy boot on the darkelf's ribcage.  He grunted in pain and squirmed a little, but the steel boot, and its steel treads, kept the darkelf in one place.

"Where's Finele."

The question was spoken like a statement, as though it were merely some comment a person might make at some social gathering, complete with its own acceptable responses.

"Who?"

Not an acceptable response.

The Baron leaned closer to the prone darkelf, resting his arms his knee as he applied more pressure to the boot on top of the darkelf's infrastructure.

"I asked you a question, maggotloaf.  You wanna try answering it again?"

"I'll make sure to give your mother a visit when I get to Hell."

The boot pressed down harder.

"One last chance, mudbrain.  Where's the bladedancer?"

"Screw you."

"No, screw you."

And with that, the Baron stomped his boot into the darkelf's innards, squishing the heart and lungs together into a squishy mass that clung in a rather disgusting fashion to the bottom of the Baron's boot.

In an attempt to clean off the filth from his boot, the Baron broke several mediocre bolts by firing them into his boot.  After numerous attempts and few successes, Ballista'em resorted to using the darkelf's cloak as a cloth to clean his boot.  He also took the opportunity to polish them a little bit, as the shine had started to dull somewhat.

"Well Finele, that just leaves you and me...  You can run, you can hide, but I'm gonna be pretty damn pissed when I finally catch up if you do."  

Setting another bolt into place and scrubbing the last pieces of lung off his clothes, Baron Ballista'em walked off into the woods in search of the bladedancer, Finele Spatteredlizards..

[Strife26]

Elf vs. Harpoon. . .

 

[umiman]

Haha, this is pretty awesome. I finally got around to reading it.

But I personally think the first few ones were more interesting...

[Kagus]

Yeah, the Baron was more impressive when he was running around in my head with his massive harpoon-shooting arbalest slinging colorful insults and various beasties.  He didn't translate very well into writing.

[Strife26]

I LIKE to Baron, thank you very much. Although I will admit that D&G seems to have lost a bit of its sparkle and interest lately.

I'll bet naming rights to my next fort that Bastilla'em dies to the bladedancer.

[Kagus]

I haven't had a lot of time for updating, sadly...  And right now I'm in a bit of a jam because I can't even FIND that damned darkelf...  I think he might have migrated to a different tower.

[Kagus]

Baron Ballista'em made his way around the tree roots as he ventured into the forest, swearing heavily whenever one of his boots caught on something.

He was just reaching down to pull his boot free from the umpteenth snarl of roots when he noticed a fast movement in the corner of his eye.  

It wasn't much of a warning, but it was enough for the Baron.  With lightning speed the Baron jerked his head back, just in time to miss the arrow that flew past his face and into the bushes beyond.

Turning, he saw the darkelf bandit pulling another arrow from his quiver, and looking very smug while he did it.

"You move fast, human.  But let's see if it's only your head that moves like that."

The darkelf leisurely nocked the next arrow into place and pulled the string back.  Once fully drawn, he took the same calm pace in aiming at the Baron's trapped foot.  With a dull *twang*, the arrow shot forward at the immobilized appendage, and with a sharp *ping* it bounced right off.

The darkelf lost some of his composure, and the sneering grin he had been wearing drooped slightly.

"Don't make me laugh, pansy.  My aim goes screwy when I laugh"

And with that, the baron shot one of the darkelf-made shredder bolts from his hand crossbow, and the many-barbed projectile tore a gaping wound far larger than would be expected from such a small weapon.  Rolls of the darkelf's intestines began to ooze their way out of the wound and form a gruesome sash at his side.  

The darkelf lost all that remained of his calm demeanor as he vomited from the pain.   The Baron took this fine opportunity to fully extricate his boot from its place of imprisonment, and used the newly-released extremity to saunter over to the darkelf, who had since fallen to a kneeling position so that his puke would have a shorter travel from his lips to the ground.  As the contents of his innards emptied themselves on the ground, the innards themselves continued to seep out from the wound.  This elf was really quite efficient.

Ballista'em poked the tip of a new bolt into the darkelf's forehead, and used it to raise his face up to the Baron's.  

"Where's the bladedancer Finele Spatteredlizards?  Let your tongue do the betraying, I can always rip it out later so you feel better."

In response the darkelf vomited once more, this time onto the Baron's boots.  Small droplets of stomach fluid pinged merrily off the smooth surface of the steel boots.

"Dammit!  I just cleaned those!"

And so the darkelf's brain was carried out of its former resting place by virtue of a darkelven shredder bolt, without having given up its knowledge of the bladedancer's whereabouts.  

The Baron continued on his grumbling path, scraping his boots along the foliage in an attempt to get the darkelf's past meal off of them.  Such behavior naturally increased the likelihood of entangling said boots in said vegetation, and it wasn't long before the Baron's oaths gained volume again as he pulled free of yet another leafy trap.

------}}}===>------

Alright, here's a tricky one...  I have another character that could take the Baron's place, but I'll only use him if he is needed.  I'm afraid Ballista'em will flounder and become less interesting, but I can't think of any way of dealing with him yet.  So, again, it's up to the community to decide...  Fresh meat, or shoot through?

[Willfor]

Voting you stick with the Baron. This Baron has mandated hammerings that are quite enjoyable compared to your average Baron.

[Demonic Gophers]

I say the Baron still makes good reading.

[Kagus]

Just popping in to bid everyone a final goodnight on this forum.  After this, the story shall continue in new territory!

[Kagus]

The Baron, after long hours of crashing his way through the forest, finally made his way into a small clearing.  A rock, warmed by the sun and smoothed by uncountable years, sat to one side in the most inviting way Ballista'em had ever seen.

He was just sitting down when a sultry, evilly playful voice came to him from across the clearing.

"Well hello there big man...  Did you walk all the way here to get poor, little old me?  Awww, how sweet.  It took you long enough."

The Baron grunted and stood up again, wiping sweat off his brow.  A tall, graceful and painfully beautiful darkelf woman walked out from the woods opposite him and strode into the middle with as much poise and elegance as a noble.  Her incredibly fine features and smooth skin also hinted towards a more regal background, but the long needle-like swords and muscular limbs belied a more warriorlike profession.

Ballista'em squeezed a crack out of his back, grunting as he did so.

"Nnngh...  Alright princess, time for you to die and me to get paid.  It's pretty gals like you who make me hate my work, so let's get this over with quickly."

The darkelf pouted and struck an almost comically unhappy pose, her arms crossed tightly over her chest in an ancient sign of malcontent.

"Oh, you're no fun.  I wanted to have fun with you..."

Her eyes gained a malicious spark and her pout turned into a wide grin that made her teeth look like those of some large predator. 

"I guess I'll just have to make you fun."

The bladedancer, Finele Spatteredlizards, uncrossed her arms and brought the two thin blades with them.  Her former pose of indignation changed into a warrior's stance as she brandished both of  her blades.  A nimble warrior's stance.

This was gonna be tough.


Baron Ballista'em cranked the string back on his hand crossbow and was just reaching for a dart when Finele pounced on him.  Retaining the gracefulness and elegance she had exhibited while walking, she now moved at and almost unreal speed that made her movements hard to follow.

She thrust one blade into the meat of his left thigh, and although it was not a deep wound it distracted the Baron long enough for her to pivot her body and sink her second blade into Ballista'em right shoulder. 

She then leapt up and planted a foot on the Baron's expansive chest, allowing her to both propel herself backwards and pull her swords out with one push.

Ballista'em was just steadying himself from the imbalance caused when she jumped off him when she lunged forward again.  The Baron saw it coming and moved to the side just in time for the blade to leave a cut across his side rather than a hole in his lung.  He struck out at the bladedancer but by the time his fist reached the point where she had been, she had already gone back to her stalking distance.

They circled around each other slowly, the Baron and the bladedancer, in the intricate waltz of coming death.

Seeing an opportunity, Finele darted forward with her left blade reaching for Ballista'ems gut.  Before the cold metal could investigate the inner workings of the Baron's impressive intestinal tract, her needle sword was caught by the Baron's hand crossbow, neatly snagged by the bow and string.

As she was processing this, the Baron surged forward and connected a thudding blow with his head to the darkelf's royal features.  Her nose crunched sharply as the cartilage crumpled from the force, and a smear of dark blood was left on the Baron's forehead.

Finele was propelled backwards from the force, and her sword freed itself by snapping the tensed string of the Baron's hand crossbow.  She staggered dazedly, desperately trying to regain her footing.

"Not every woman can handle a kiss from the Baron, darkelf.  Don't feel bad about it, we can always try again in a couple minutes when you're ready ag-UGGH!"

More dangerous than she looked, faster than she appeared, Finele had spun on her heel and thrown one of her needle swords at the Baron, sinking the blade deep into his abdomen and just barely missing his stomach.

The Baron stood that way for a while, his body hunched slightly over and his hands belatedly reaching to stop the blade from piercing his skin.  With a grimace of pain, he stood up with the sword still sticking out of him.  Slowly, he reached his hands over his shoulders and grasped something behind him.

"Oh...  That's, just, not NICE!  Nice little girls gotta play nice!"

From the custom-made holster on his back, the Baron brought forth a monstrous arbalest, the bulk of which was made from the same steel as his boots.  The Baron planted the massive machine of destruction on the ground, its smooth surface marred only by the engraved initials of its owner.

He cranked the string all the way back, his movements swift and practiced.  He then reached his right hand down and pulled the needle blade from his body, sending a river of pain up his body and causing another grimace.

He took the sword and slotted it into the arbalest, the still-bloody tip now pointed back at the bladedancer.

"Say hello to the B.B. bow, bitch."

The arbalest's string released with a twang that sounded like thunder and the sword shot across the clearing at ridiculous speed.  Finele's sword plunged halfway up its blade into her right eye, neatly skewering the once-beautiful darkelf's head.

Silently, her taunts smothered by the thick blanket of death, the bladedancer fell backwards onto the grass, all of the elegance lost as her limp body flopped to the grass.

Ballista'em holstered his arbalest and walked over to the body, its head elevated slightly by the sword sticking out the back.

"Bet you didn't see that one coming, did ya?" The Baron asked the corpse, giving it a slight kick to emphasize his point.

He took the other blade and sliced through the soft flesh of her neck.  That done, he picked up the first sword by its handle and propped it onto his shoulder, the head sitting on it like a vagrant's pack.

And so Baron Ballista'em walked away from the headless body of Finele Spatteredlizards as it lay in their battling grounds and began his return journey to the Twirling Pig, where he would get his reward for killing the bandit leader.  No longer cursing as he trudged through the wooded area, but whistling.

[Kagus]

The door to the Twirling Pig banged open, and in the doorway stood the imposing figure of Baron Ballista'em, wronged by his court and banished to the life of a mercenary, constantly seeking the funds required to take back the land that was rightfully his.  Upon his shoulder rested the head of Finele Spatteredlizards, impaled on one of her own swords.

Ballista'em scanned the room and picked out Tunem, who was looking slightly shaken from the loud noise the door had made when the Baron opened it.  Ballista'em clomped over to his table, and then shifted his grip on the needle blade and jammed it into the wooden planks of the table.

It stood upright in the wood as Finele's head began slowly sliding down the blade until it finally came to rest on the table with a small thump.


The Baron looked up expectantly at the political official.  Tunem Umpigarin stared in disbelief at the head before a happy smile spread across his face and he began clapping his hands in a congratulatory fashion.

"Well done, well done!  You have proven yourself to be the most righteous and powerful warrior to ever grace these parts, and you have removed a dreadful presence from the world while doing it, well done!  I shall speak with the high priests immediately to secure your reward."

"What, the priests have all the money in town?  That figures."

"Money...?  Oh, no no poor boy, I'm not getting you *money*.  I'm giving you something far more valuable than mere money."

The mayor scoffed indignantly before continuing.

"I'm getting you salvation.  I spoke with the high priests earlier, and they agreed to absolve all your past sins if you were to return, and you have!  You needn't thank me, it's the least I can do i return for you services, and the high priests have assured me that-"

"Hold the damned messenger...  You're saying that I went out, risked my life, got a sword buried in me-

Ballista'em pointed to the hole in his shirt for emphasis.

-killed this hot darkelf, and in return you're going to absolve me?"

The mayor looked a little nervous at this, wetting his lips and tapping the table lightly.

"Errm...  Errm...  Well, err, yes.  Praise gambling!"  The mayor said, smiling hopefully.

His smile, along with the rest of his face, exploded out the back of his head as another ripper dart tore through what brains the mayor actually had.

The entire tavern seemed to reel back at this, and there was a stunned silence for a few moments.  Then a voice near the back spoke up.

"Heathen!  He refused absolution!"

This was joined by several other voices, as the ale-fortified peasantry began to regain their lack of senses and, thus, their courage.

"Kill the heathen!"

"Burn him!"

"Our odds are one in one hundred and seventy-three!"

"Praise gambling!"

And with that, a score of tables toppled to the ground as the patrons surged forward at the assassin.

"Aw hell no..."  The Baron said as he began frantically reloading his hand crossbow.

The patrons began to fall to the Baron's shots, but even as their comrades had their faces ripped off and their arms torn to shreds, they still charged on and placed bets on how long it would take the Baron to die.

A few came close enough to warrant a quick fist to the jaw or stomach before the Baron continued reloading, but most were destroyed before they could reach the Baron's personal space.

The door slammed open again, this time framing a guard who had come to see what the ruckus was about.  His eyes widened and his mouth opened to cry out in alarm but the baron turned suddenly and shot one of the darts at him.

The thing hit the guard squarely in the stomach, spraying his innards on the doorstep and propelling the guard out into the street.

Ballista'em shot a final dart at one of the tavern patrons before charging out the door, his steel boots squelching on the spilled entrails as he ran.  Once outside, he was met with the puzzled stares of a throng of people who had come to see what was causing the noise.

The Baron hesitated for a moment, and as he did so a blood-soaked patron shot out the door and yelled to the crowd.

"Kill the heathen!  The pot's up to seven ales and a gold tooth!"

some one in the crowd shouted back "Praise gambling!", and the Baron found himself in the middle of a second wave of attackers.

Thinking quickly, he focused his shots at one section of the encroaching ring of people, blowing out a gore-and-vomit-streaked opening for him to slip through.

Ballista'em dashed across town, occasionally firing a dart back at the mob that was following him, sometimes shooting ahead to take out a would-be interceptor.  The streets were festooned with entrails as the Baron shot dart after dart at the odds-crazed citizens.


After quite some time and distance had passed, Baron Ballista'em stopped to regain his breath from the long sprint he had just taken.  He looked back at the city, but it was too far away to see clearly now.  The peasants had been incapable of keeping up with the Baron's stamina, and had simply fallen behind and gone about the chore of cleaning up all th dead bodies.

"Yeah, you sick little idiots chased me away, congratulations.  But I'm coming back, and when I do I'll repaint every goddamn hovel with blood.  Hell, I'll even paint the dog house."

The Baron grinned slyly.

"You bet I will."


------}}}===>------


Got a special bonus for ya; the "real" story. 

As you can probably tell, the fight between the Baron and the bladedancer is entirely fictitious.  This is because I couldn't find the real bladedancer.

Under normal circumstances, I would have just  written the update, gone back to the village and called it a day.  But as it turns out, I had forgotten where the village was.  I'd need the objective pointer.  The objective pointer from killing the darkelf.

So I started up DC and pulled up the unit list...  Two darkelves left, one swordmaster aand one peasant.  I zoom to the location of the swordmaster and it's...

Blank space.  I try zooming in again, and same deal.  Just grass. 

So I use the "hurt" command on the swordmaster (and the peasant, for good measure) and then I wait.  Nothing happens.  I zoom to the spot, and it's moved.  Apparently, I'm dealing with ghosts.

After several ineffective attempts at kiilling that which does not exist, I used Tweak to teleport the swordmaster to a more accessible location.  Ah, that's better.

The following battle kinda surprised me.  Not only was she in fact female, she also carried a "fair sword", which I imagine to be rather thin and delicate.  After blocking a couple (but not all) of the bolts I shot at her, she came over to me and stabbed me in the lower body (!) with her sword.  It got stuck.

Then there was some charging going on and we both ended up tangled on the ground (hey baby...).  She lost her grip on the sword.  My gut had just stolen a sword from a darkelf.

I didn't take it out and throw it at her (I probably should have, just to make it more fun), but I did slowly beat her to death with my crossbow.  I was then able to make my way back to the tavern, where I finally pulled out the sword (I later threw it at a peasant, it's till lying on the ground in the village).

So she was female, had a delicate sword, and got it stuck in my lower body.  Pretty neat, considering this all happened after I wrote the battle sequence. 

Anyways, good night.  It's taken me far longer to write this thing than it should have, so the time now reads 1:34 AM.  I happen to like sleeping, so I'm only going to browse the forums for a couple more minutes.  At most.  Really.

[Strife26]

Crud, I was wrong. If anyone guesses the baron's death correctly, you'll get naming rights . . .

[Kagus]

Sorry, but it's not the Baron's time to die yet...  I'm keeping him alive for a little bit longer.

Funny thing is, the first time I met the "real" bladedancer, she did kill him.  She managed to stop vomiting long enough to hack off his head.