jevon66
05-22-2012, 05:06 PM
The Boulder Show
What the hells am I doing here with HIM?
Prissy little human probably cant even tell if a tunnel runs uphill or downhill.
Bah!!
And a wizard at that, I hate wizards. Always throwing around fireballs and lightning bolts willy nilly with no consideration for anyone else.
Bah!!
Hate 'em, hate 'em all.
BAH!!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"........going to just sit there all day or what?"
Redboulder tuned back into the tinny sound of his companions voice to late to know what was being discussed.
"Eh? What'd ye say Rat?"
His flame and lightning flinging friend HATED to be called Rat, so of course he was called this as much as possible, in all possible forms: rat, ratty, rat-face, you name it.
"I asked if you had considered helping me with these ogres over here or if you were going to just sit there all day."
Looking over the flaming, twitching mass a few yards down the hallway Redboulder grudgingly admitted to the effectiveness of well placed flames and bolts.
"Eh, ye looked to be havin too much fun roasting the whole room, figgered I'd take a nap Rat-boy."
It had started so simply, as most ugly adventures do.
Some people in a tavern in house Denieth asking them for help, its always random tavern people, and Ratty of course signed them both up without even considering it was the first of the month and it was bath day for Boulder. Stupid wizard.
In they went. Some stinking sewer, it was always a stinking sewer, with a group of people they didnt know, and then it went south.
It always went south.
The first sign of trouble came when they all read the sign outside the hatch actually, "The Depths of something or other", bah, Its always some kind of depths.
Or deeps, or pits, or coves, whatever.
Boulder sometimes wondered about the sanity of the people who settled Stormreach. What kind of people would go around and give every building, cave, and molehill a name out of a horror story. Stupid humans.
Well, Rat-breath had signed them up, and Redboulder was too stubborn to back out, so it always went.
The lockpicking halfling bit it first, of course.
Boulder could never understand why those little kleptomaniacs always wanted to run off on their own. Maybe so they could fill their pockets without any witnesses.
They found his very tenderized remains at the feet of a very upset living rock monster, and Boulder had to chuckle.
Not at the midgets demise, but at Rat-face whining about getting halfling innards on his pretty silk slippers.
Stupid mages, always dressed for a ball.
The priest and the axe swinging idiot from the woods bit it in companionable misery, with huge hairy spiders ****ering over the choicest parts.
So, as usual, Boulder was trudging through unknown types of foul waste, listening to Rat-a-rooney moan and groan about getting his pretty little robes dirty and dreaming of a good meal.
Or an average meal, didnt matter.
"....and I'll tell you why thats wrong......"
Boulder tuned in just long enough to be able to tell that everything was normal, then quickly turned the Rat-o-logue back down to a dull buzz.
All in all, though hed never admit it aloud, Boulder had lucked out running into prissy pants.
He'd been run out of his home city, who knew getting drunk and ****ing on the temple altar would be taken quite that seriously, and ended up in a little fly speck town named Korthos with no clear idea what to do.
Well, no clear anything judging from the amount of ale he drank.
In the tavern one day, its ALWAYS the tavern, the homeless and slightly homicidal dwarf overheard a couple of people talking about a job. A job that sounded right up the alley of an angry dwarf, going into a room and killing stuff for money.
Well, history will say that they were well met and traveled and adventured as friends for years after, thats a lie.
Boulder slipped drunkenly from his stool, fell on his face at Rat-a-saurus' feet and promptly vomited before slurring out something about liking to kill stuff.
Ahh well, if anyone ever tells the whole story then Rat will fry em and I'll chop 'em into spider kibble thought Redboulder.
"....little help you A**h**e....."
Hey, thats new, maybe I oughta turn around.
Sure enough, some kind of stinky green lizard guy has snuck up behind Rat-o-lope undetected and knocked the skinny little girly boy down.
Hefting his dwarven axe with a long suffering sigh Redboulder advanced on the soon to be very dead thing that had dared lay a hand on his friend.
One doesnt mess with a dwarfs friend, ever.
Even one that shops in womens stores. Hehe.
"Shut yer crying yap Rat, I'm coming! Gods, ye'd think you'd never had trog guts on yer pretty little slippers!"
Stupid wizards.
What the hells am I doing here with HIM?
Prissy little human probably cant even tell if a tunnel runs uphill or downhill.
Bah!!
And a wizard at that, I hate wizards. Always throwing around fireballs and lightning bolts willy nilly with no consideration for anyone else.
Bah!!
Hate 'em, hate 'em all.
BAH!!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"........going to just sit there all day or what?"
Redboulder tuned back into the tinny sound of his companions voice to late to know what was being discussed.
"Eh? What'd ye say Rat?"
His flame and lightning flinging friend HATED to be called Rat, so of course he was called this as much as possible, in all possible forms: rat, ratty, rat-face, you name it.
"I asked if you had considered helping me with these ogres over here or if you were going to just sit there all day."
Looking over the flaming, twitching mass a few yards down the hallway Redboulder grudgingly admitted to the effectiveness of well placed flames and bolts.
"Eh, ye looked to be havin too much fun roasting the whole room, figgered I'd take a nap Rat-boy."
It had started so simply, as most ugly adventures do.
Some people in a tavern in house Denieth asking them for help, its always random tavern people, and Ratty of course signed them both up without even considering it was the first of the month and it was bath day for Boulder. Stupid wizard.
In they went. Some stinking sewer, it was always a stinking sewer, with a group of people they didnt know, and then it went south.
It always went south.
The first sign of trouble came when they all read the sign outside the hatch actually, "The Depths of something or other", bah, Its always some kind of depths.
Or deeps, or pits, or coves, whatever.
Boulder sometimes wondered about the sanity of the people who settled Stormreach. What kind of people would go around and give every building, cave, and molehill a name out of a horror story. Stupid humans.
Well, Rat-breath had signed them up, and Redboulder was too stubborn to back out, so it always went.
The lockpicking halfling bit it first, of course.
Boulder could never understand why those little kleptomaniacs always wanted to run off on their own. Maybe so they could fill their pockets without any witnesses.
They found his very tenderized remains at the feet of a very upset living rock monster, and Boulder had to chuckle.
Not at the midgets demise, but at Rat-face whining about getting halfling innards on his pretty silk slippers.
Stupid mages, always dressed for a ball.
The priest and the axe swinging idiot from the woods bit it in companionable misery, with huge hairy spiders ****ering over the choicest parts.
So, as usual, Boulder was trudging through unknown types of foul waste, listening to Rat-a-rooney moan and groan about getting his pretty little robes dirty and dreaming of a good meal.
Or an average meal, didnt matter.
"....and I'll tell you why thats wrong......"
Boulder tuned in just long enough to be able to tell that everything was normal, then quickly turned the Rat-o-logue back down to a dull buzz.
All in all, though hed never admit it aloud, Boulder had lucked out running into prissy pants.
He'd been run out of his home city, who knew getting drunk and ****ing on the temple altar would be taken quite that seriously, and ended up in a little fly speck town named Korthos with no clear idea what to do.
Well, no clear anything judging from the amount of ale he drank.
In the tavern one day, its ALWAYS the tavern, the homeless and slightly homicidal dwarf overheard a couple of people talking about a job. A job that sounded right up the alley of an angry dwarf, going into a room and killing stuff for money.
Well, history will say that they were well met and traveled and adventured as friends for years after, thats a lie.
Boulder slipped drunkenly from his stool, fell on his face at Rat-a-saurus' feet and promptly vomited before slurring out something about liking to kill stuff.
Ahh well, if anyone ever tells the whole story then Rat will fry em and I'll chop 'em into spider kibble thought Redboulder.
"....little help you A**h**e....."
Hey, thats new, maybe I oughta turn around.
Sure enough, some kind of stinky green lizard guy has snuck up behind Rat-o-lope undetected and knocked the skinny little girly boy down.
Hefting his dwarven axe with a long suffering sigh Redboulder advanced on the soon to be very dead thing that had dared lay a hand on his friend.
One doesnt mess with a dwarfs friend, ever.
Even one that shops in womens stores. Hehe.
"Shut yer crying yap Rat, I'm coming! Gods, ye'd think you'd never had trog guts on yer pretty little slippers!"
Stupid wizards.