Carpe Cerevisi
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March 3, 2010

A Walk In The Rain

Filed under: People — Tags: , — Skafian @ 5:05 pm

The day wore on.  On and on it went.  The repetitiveness of the work draining me with each motion made.  Finally, it came time to head home.  As luck would have it, the murky clouds that just stood silent the entire day, decided to crack and pour at the very moment I stepped foot on the cobblestones.  Wearing light garments of cloth and wool highlighted with leather on the seams was not very protective versus the rain.  I had but a few miles to go until I could be in front of my fire with some heavy liquor in my cup.

So on I drudged down the cobblestone path with water soaking me to my core.  Colder and colder I felt, and more and more I longed for fire in my stomach and heat dancing on my skin.  Suddenly I heard the unmistakable clamor of hooves on cobblestones.  The horse and rider flew past me hurling water from puddles all around me.  This was water that has mixed with the other elements around this road.  This water was worse than that falling from the clouds and now I walked covered in muck and mud.

The pub just before my house is looking more tempting than my home by this point.  I see the Sergeant of the Guard in there getting his drink.  Perhaps he’ll be able to cheer me up on this bleak night.  Miserable and wet I entered the bar just in time to hear a crash, the clang of steel hitting steel, and see a blinding flash of light.  Then it was dark.

February 21, 2010

(?)

Filed under: People — Tags: , — Drunkenmimes @ 5:33 pm

A sudden, loud clap to his left caught Rumchugger by surprise, snapping him out of his troubled thoughts-and there had been plenty of those, since the evening before…both, the startling noises and the troubled thoughts.
But no time for that now, as someone with a huge parrot on their  shoulder was stumbling toward Rumchugger, nearly falling.
“Drunkenmimes, must you be so oblivious? It’s ten o’clock in the morning,” exclaimed Rum.
Drunkenmimes burped and looked sheepish. The parrot  ruffled it’s  wings. “RAWK, only a pint boss! Nothin’ eh git heated aboat!”
Rumchugger blinked and raised his eyebrows. This stinkin’ mute, he thought. “Actually..hmm. Ye know what, I could use a soother myself. What’s say you join me inside, eh?”
Rumchugger held the half-hinged door to the inn open. “We need to have a palaver.”
Drunkenmimes grinned silently and the parrot snapped his head around. “RAWK, see now that’s the roit ticket guvnah!”

***

Rumchugger led Drunkenmimes to an empty booth in the corner, which, under normal circumstances, would have been occupied by rogues and mutineers at this hour. Rum shoved Drunken into the seat, and pacified the parrot underneath the table with a few crackers.

Rum produced a quill and a bit of paper. “What’s that raucous creature’s name anyway, or does he even have one?”

Drunken picked up the quill a wrote, “Drunkenbird.” Then, “so what about that pint?”

“We’ll get to that bit my friend, presently.” Rum made a steeple with his fingers. “But first, I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”

“I rather fancy the imported bevvies,” wrote Drunken.

Rum put his hand on the back of Drunken’s neck and gripped it firmly. “Who was aboard The Holey Mackerel last night?”

Drunken looked utterly, convincingly confused. But Rum wasn’t buying it. He pulled from his coat pocket a small pipe, ornately engraved with the words “Carpe Cerevisi”, one of Drunkenmime’s  favorite unspoken expressions.

“Now,” began Rum slowly. “Who, other than yourself, was aboard that ship?”

February 18, 2010

Strange Days as a City Guard

Filed under: People — Tags: , , — skafian @ 8:14 pm

The typical place for a City Guard to go after a long tiring day of duty is the Ishki Drinking Dragon.  You might expect the place that the city guards go to drown their sorrows would be at least somewhat law abiding, but this was not so at the “Drinkin’ Drag”.  It turns out that after a day of enforcing the kings every last minuscule policy and filing reports about every one of the peasants simple problems that binge drinking happens — and often.  Just as it is happening tonight with Sgt Malk.

“That’ll be another for you, Malk?” Inquired the bartender already preparing the glass of dark unmentionable liqueur.  Sgt. Malk replied with a solemn nod. “D’ya know what I heard today?  An ork! In Ishki!  Flying on a rocket like some sort of green gnomish demon.”  The bartender handed the drink to Malk and tried not to react to what he had heard.  He had learned over that past many years that when someone is worked up it’s best to let them vent without feeding the fire.  He’s had to rebuilt much of his bar many times and he couldn’t afford another hit to his insurance.

“Over at the Oden farm”, Malk continued, “Those two old farmers saw some bat crazy green guy cruising through there like a cannonball.  This whole area is going down the drain I say.”  With that he downed his drink and became quiet.  A man in a long black cloak and hood had come in through the door.  Once inside the man threw back his hood headed for the bar.  He was a young man, very skinny with dark skin.  He was completely bald with strange symbols tattooed all over his scalp.  They were varying colors and sizes, runic symbols by Malks guess.  Someone with those symbols displayed such as this meant magic, and that meant that Malk’s night may not quite be over yet.

Incident Report #0022458

Filed under: Reports — Tags: , , , , — skafian @ 7:17 pm
Incident Report: #0022458
Reporting Officer: Sgt. of the Guard Malk
Report Location: Outskirts of Ishki (Oden’s Farm)
Witnesses: Paul Oden, Mary Oden
Incident Brief: Flying Ork Sighting, Property Damage

Paul and Mary Oden reported seeing an ork traveling at a high rate of speed through their farm today.  The ork was riding on the back of a rocket.  He looked very young, light green, and had a topknot.  He destroyed a chicken coop on his path of destruction through the farm and burned some crops.  There were also several frightened farm animals and Mary Oden spilled her tea as a result of his insane cackling and loud rocket.

At his rate of speed he is probably many miles away from the farm by now.  We will alert more cities to the north to be on the lookout for a rocket propelled ork.

Included in this report is a sketch representing his possible appearance drawn by our city patrols official sketch artist based on the Oden’s descriptions.

Introduction of Graak

Filed under: People — Tags: — skafian @ 7:28 am

Graak is green. He is also very small. The latter can’t be helped as he’s but five years old in ork years. His skin hasn’t reached the darker hue of his parents and he doesn’t have many scars so far. He does have a penchant for getting into trouble as most orklings do. Although, this particular ork child is a bit different from the rest. He’s less interested in beating living creatures with clubs than his peers. His interests lie in more complex matters such as: “Dis hammer make dat go boom”. Now you might be thinking that any five year old would think a thought like this. That’s just not true when it comes to orks. That is thinking at almost a high school level!

So far Graak has destroyed three ork shanties (they might have just as well fallen over on their own if the wind had hit them just right); a gretchen nest (this was done with a fine bit of explosive powder that grandma uses to remove calluses from her lower quarters); and with his latest endeavor he managed to launch a rocket, with himself in tow, clear across his village creating a new path to get from the latrines to the kitchens.

Many of the elder orks grumbled and snarled that this child should be stricken from the camp: “Dat orklin’ should be gone! Dwarves and gnomes do wit machines. All’s we needs is a great fight with our choppas!” This usually resulted in a great cheering erupting from the halls and frequently a few small skirmishes in the elder hut in support. Sadly, after these last affairs of the rocket which had upturned the latrines with the chieftain inside, Graak was now destined to wander and explore. This could be the most amazing tale of a young ork finding his way in the world, or it could be a path of chaos from his small village to where ever his rocket-sled takes him. Only time will tell.

A New Hat?

Filed under: Rumors — skafian @ 12:45 am

I hear Rincewind got a new hat. This time it has rhinestones that spell out the W for Wizard. Has anyone even seen him cast a spell before?

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