Post by Goose on May 9, 2013 15:14:13 GMT -5
They were fifteen men after the emerald cloaked archer speeding through the trees and foliage. Swords and axes were raised in the air along with shouts for blood. The green cape of the archer would disappear behind a tree, or dive behind brush at every turn, urging his pursuers to hasten their pace and give way to recklessness.
It was on the last turn that one of the bandits tripped a wire, letting loose a swinging log trap that rammed three of the men so hard you could hear the bones crack; the others narrowly escaping the same fate.
Before they could even fix their sights back on the quarry, two more men fell into a spiked pit trap, given no time to scream as tripped to their death.
The chasers stopped in their tracks, realizing they were likely surrounded by more traps. As their backs met, an arrow flew, swift like a lightning bolt through the air and pierced a heart and a half. Before they could trace its origin, another went straight through the eye of a man from a new direction.
It was like they were surrounded, arrows flying from each and every way, herding the rest of the bandits closer together before the rain of.....
"Wait, wait." said a savvy looking young man at the bar. He was sitting across from an old sod who had his arms raised in the air like he was preaching from a pulpit, looking back at him with an expression like his sermon was interrupted by heretical filth.
"You honestly took down fifteen men on your own, setting up elaborate traps and somehow moved through undergrowth stealthily AND quickly enough to herd men like steer? Then pepper them with a volley of arrows? Is that where this was going?"
The other bar patrons looked back at Goose, kinda expecting a logical answer to that as well. The old hunter had them enthralled with his story as the night of drinking went on, had them at the edge of their seats even. Now all it took was the word of one young man who thinks he knows everything to make his tale go limp just as it was getting good.
"Listen, son, do you really want me to go over every little bit I did? I may not look it, but I was once the best damned ranger in the North lands....or maybe it was West-the point is, you don't go off muckin up a story with all the details. You don' need 'em! Now, can I go on again with my heroics or do you need me to explain how I handle my bow like a fine lass in order to shoot deadly? How I stroke her curves and whisper things that'll make you blush redder than the setting sun as it goes down on the Earth?"
There was a brief silence, hinted with a sense of awkwardness, before one drunk soul spoke up, "Well, I might need to know that..."
Then came the sort of uproarious laughter you could only get from a bunch of drunks late at night with full mugs in their hands.
It was on the last turn that one of the bandits tripped a wire, letting loose a swinging log trap that rammed three of the men so hard you could hear the bones crack; the others narrowly escaping the same fate.
Before they could even fix their sights back on the quarry, two more men fell into a spiked pit trap, given no time to scream as tripped to their death.
The chasers stopped in their tracks, realizing they were likely surrounded by more traps. As their backs met, an arrow flew, swift like a lightning bolt through the air and pierced a heart and a half. Before they could trace its origin, another went straight through the eye of a man from a new direction.
It was like they were surrounded, arrows flying from each and every way, herding the rest of the bandits closer together before the rain of.....
"Wait, wait." said a savvy looking young man at the bar. He was sitting across from an old sod who had his arms raised in the air like he was preaching from a pulpit, looking back at him with an expression like his sermon was interrupted by heretical filth.
"You honestly took down fifteen men on your own, setting up elaborate traps and somehow moved through undergrowth stealthily AND quickly enough to herd men like steer? Then pepper them with a volley of arrows? Is that where this was going?"
The other bar patrons looked back at Goose, kinda expecting a logical answer to that as well. The old hunter had them enthralled with his story as the night of drinking went on, had them at the edge of their seats even. Now all it took was the word of one young man who thinks he knows everything to make his tale go limp just as it was getting good.
"Listen, son, do you really want me to go over every little bit I did? I may not look it, but I was once the best damned ranger in the North lands....or maybe it was West-the point is, you don't go off muckin up a story with all the details. You don' need 'em! Now, can I go on again with my heroics or do you need me to explain how I handle my bow like a fine lass in order to shoot deadly? How I stroke her curves and whisper things that'll make you blush redder than the setting sun as it goes down on the Earth?"
There was a brief silence, hinted with a sense of awkwardness, before one drunk soul spoke up, "Well, I might need to know that..."
Then came the sort of uproarious laughter you could only get from a bunch of drunks late at night with full mugs in their hands.