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The Watcher in the Woods Intro

By: The_Watcher on Apr 24th, 2012  |  syntax: None  |  size: 4.18 KB  |  hits: 55  |  expires: Never
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  1. >> You’re chillin’ at a costume party with your SCA mates
  2. >> This evening’s ensemble is a fetching black denim French highwayman’s coat worn over a white linen shirt, brown vest and silver pocket watch, with a white cotton muffler around your neck. You also wear brown trousers tucked into a pair of well worn cuffed knee-high leather boots, along with a nice pair of brown leather gloves. All of this is topped off with a tricorn hat as the finishing touch.
  3. >> feelsgoodman.jpg
  4. >> The alcohol is flowing freely, and you’re feeling the “spirit” within you when you hear a voice call out behind you
  5. “Hey Anonymous! I hereby challenge thee to a duel!”
  6. >> You turn around to see the rich new guy, all kitted out and looking like he’s got something to prove
  7. >> ++This can’t possibly end well++
  8. >> --Ach, shut yer trap ye grey mattered ninny! Its whiskey’s turn tae do tha thinkin noo! Anon, teach this sword an’ board wielding lily livered whelp not tae mess wit yer clan!--
  9. >> I don’t have a clan, but ok
  10. >> Challenge Accepted >>Grab my duct tape covered stic-I mean...Ancestral Claymore, ready to prove your worth to this uncultured knave
  11. >> ++Anon, shouldn’t you be wearing your armor?++
  12. >> --Ah seid shut it, Brain!--
  13. >> ++Fine, if anyone needs me I’ll be over here computing pi++
  14. >> Okay then – wait, you can do that?
  15. >> ++No, but this may be the only chance I get, so I sure as hell am going to try!++
  16. >> You turn to your opponent and salute, noticing that he only does so half-heartedly
  17. >> --Lad, what did ye do tae piss off this nancy boy?—
  18. >> I’ve got nothing, Brain?
  19. >> ++ 3.141592654...++
  20. >> Never mind, let’s do this
  21. >> He makes the first move, rushing at you with his sword raised high, the alcohol in his system making him forget about the shield strapped to his sinister arm
  22. >> You sidestep out of the way, delivering a strike to his shins as he rushes past that causes him to trip and fall face first on the ground, much to the amusement of the onlookers of this duel of honour
  23. >> Mr. Arsehole gets up, his helmet and the front of his tabard stained with grass and dirt, the sight causing another ripple of laughter to float among the crowd. You notice that he at least has the good sense to stay on his knees, as per the SCA rules when receiving a blow to the legs.>>You salute again, patiently holding it until he remembers to salute back before starting the duel anew.
  24. >>He attempts to attack your legs, telegraphing a swing to your ankles that you easily scoot out of the way. Now it’s only a matter of using the reach of your claymore to your advantage, which you do so by feinting a strike to his dexterous arm, changing direction at the last second to lure his sword out of the way before giving him a clonk on the noggin for his troubles, thus ending the match.>>Drunken cheers erupt from the small gathering of spectators as you salute Mr. Arsehole. He just glares daggers at you as you walk away.
  25. >>++Ten synapses says Mr. Arsehole tries something++
  26. >>--Yer on, nancy! Anonynous, go get yerself another whiskey to celebrate your victory over that silver spoon sucking ninny!
  27. >>Good idea alcohol, I could use one. Brain, why didn’t you think of that, you’re the smart one!
  28. >>++Because unlike you, I happen to care about my brain cells. Inviting any more of that Scott bastard’s friends will only worsen the matter.
  29. >>Of course I care about your brain cells. I’m killing off the weak and sickly ones so that only the strong, smart ones are left, therefore making you smarter. It’s natural selection on a cellular level.
  30. >>++That’s not how it...ah forget it. I better go warn liver, you’re impossible when you’re like this.++
  31. >>Pouring yourself another whiskey, you join the others as they discuss the finer points of the duel and what Mr. Arsehole’s problem was, deciding that a combination of alcohol, Mr Arsehole being an angry drunk, and the fact that he’s only been in the SCA for a week were the causes of his defeat.
  32. >>++Alcohol, I think I’m gonna win this bet++
  33. >>--Eh? And why’s that?—
  34. >>You feel a heavy blow to the back of your head, knocking you unconscious before you even hit the ground.
  35. Mr. Arsehole: Take that you bastar-!...where'd he go?
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