A very short story about the bounty hunter I'm going to be playing in a Christmas themed one shot.
The Dirty Dog tavern was packed to the rafters with patrons, the festivities drowning out the howling blizzard outside. The sound of song and the flow of beer washing away the winter woes.
In bursts slab of a man with such ferocity it was all the door could do to cling onto it’s hinges. It was Jurgen Blacktooth a brute well known to the clientele of the Dirty Dog and the rest of the remote village; he had terrorised them ever since he and his band of miscreants arrived a month ago. His face did not wear it’s usual arrogant sneer though, instead there hung a mask of terror.
“HIDE ME!” he wailed to the crowded taproom “please.” the tears on his face thawing. He dove over the bar and proceeded to scrabble at the door to the inn keeper’s residence.
“Juuuurgen?” the patrons turn back to see a goliath stooping in through the battered door, behind him a saddled deer of prodigious size. “Der is no use trying to hiide Juurgen.”, the goliath’s voice stern but calm. “Approach, me Juurgen.” a flicker of sorcery shot through the taproom.
“P-p-p-please! It's all a a a a misunderstanding!”, blubbering Jurgen walked towards the goliath at the door, shaking with such violent panic it could be felt through the floorboards. “A-a-and the thing at the orphanage was an accident.”. With one meaty hand the goliath grasps the scruff of Jurgen’s neck, frog marching him outside. As they step through the door a colossal soot black sword coalesces from the ether in the goliath’s free hand. As the door is pulled to a sickening wet crunch is followed by a bray of triumph.
“Still not haad your fill then eh Ruudolph?” chuckles the goliath. “Guess I’ll celebrate the fruuitful hunt tooo.” The door lightly opens once more and as it swings back shut the patrons see the great deer lift it’s head from the carcass, a string of gore stretching from it’s blood-soaked muzzle.
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A very short story about the bounty hunter I'm going to be playing in a Christmas themed one shot.
The Dirty Dog tavern was packed to the rafters with patrons, the festivities drowning out the howling blizzard outside. The sound of song and the flow of beer washing away the winter woes.
In bursts slab of a man with such ferocity it was all the door could do to cling onto it’s hinges. It was Jurgen Blacktooth a brute well known to the clientele of the Dirty Dog and the rest of the remote village; he had terrorised them ever since he and his band of miscreants arrived a month ago. His face did not wear it’s usual arrogant sneer though, instead there hung a mask of terror.
“HIDE ME!” he wailed to the crowded taproom “please.” the tears on his face thawing. He dove over the bar and proceeded to scrabble at the door to the inn keeper’s residence.
“Juuuurgen?” the patrons turn back to see a goliath stooping in through the battered door, behind him a saddled deer of prodigious size. “Der is no use trying to hiide Juurgen.”, the goliath’s voice stern but calm. “Approach, me Juurgen.” a flicker of sorcery shot through the taproom.
“P-p-p-please! It's all a a a a misunderstanding!”, blubbering Jurgen walked towards the goliath at the door, shaking with such violent panic it could be felt through the floorboards. “A-a-and the thing at the orphanage was an accident.”. With one meaty hand the goliath grasps the scruff of Jurgen’s neck, frog marching him outside. As they step through the door a colossal soot black sword coalesces from the ether in the goliath’s free hand. As the door is pulled to a sickening wet crunch is followed by a bray of triumph.
“Still not haad your fill then eh Ruudolph?” chuckles the goliath. “Guess I’ll celebrate the fruuitful hunt tooo.” The door lightly opens once more and as it swings back shut the patrons see the great deer lift it’s head from the carcass, a string of gore stretching from it’s blood-soaked muzzle.