No Time Anymore

[Pieman]

Well, I haven't been around as much as I would love to, but there just aren't enough hours in the day. So I guess this is a break, absolutely not permanent (none are) but just till I can find a way to manage time to play as I would like to.

As a sort of going away present I'm posting my favorite app I was never able to use, but was awesome. It kind of turned into a short story after a while and maybe hopefully it will give some people some sweet inspiration. It was made a long time ago, never had a chance to post it though. It is an app for a demon zerk, that I was going to use on my char Korgintok, but never worked out. Sorry, well here it is.

Not too long ago a small baby was born. A humble family in Miruvhor

was the blood he was born into. The family loved the small babe, even

if he was lost in a sea of siblings. When he turned three they worried

why the child could not get up and walk like the rest, or even crawl

very well. For a few years they put up with it as another mouth to

feed and legacy to live on. Soon enough they were distraught at the

size difference between his left and right leg, and took him to the

the local healer. The healer was the noted Dremorian, healer of

Miruvhor. He examined the baby thoroughly and came to the conclusion

that the baby's leg was limp. The family was remorseful for a short

time, but necessity declared that the baby had no future, and would no

longer cost the family the money for food if they discarded it. The

baby's mother and father realized it within minutes, but kept the ruse

of tears up while in Dremorian's presence. Once they took the baby into

their arms with fake tears dripping upon his forehead they walked away.

The fake tears were immediately terminated the moment that they passed

from the view of Dremorian. When they left the temple they found a

small heap of garbage covered in wild cats. They moved most of the trash

away and placed the baby within, covering his head in refuse hoping that

it would suffocate before it died of hunger. A day or two passed when a

citizen passed by the garbage normally swarming with cats pecking for

last night's dinner or some old fish bones. The cats were mysteriously

missing leading the man to investigate. He found the baby under the

trash and presumed that it had passed. He did what he thought was the

right thing and brought the baby to Dremorian. Dremorian immediately

recognized the child. He was angered, but also saw things from the

point of view of the parents, so he took him in.

For twelve or so years Dremorian cared for the child. The child's leg

was indeed crippled and dragged behind the child as he walked. Dremorian

made a makeshift domicile from what used to be a small janitorial closet

of the temple. Daily he would pray to the heavens for a meal to feed the

child. As time passed Dremorian taught the child to read, write, and

defend himself from the children that would pick on his condition. A year

or two more passed and Dremorian became distraught. The child was a

hassle to feed and cloth. He tried endlessly to find work or a home for

the boy, but no one wanted a limp legged worker or another mouth to feed.

Dremorian then thought back to the decision the boy's parents made long

ago, and knew their exact thoughts. Dremorian decided as well to abandon

the child. In the night as the child slept men came and carried him into

an alley. The boy was left with nothing more than what he was wearing,

and a final meal wrapped in a dirty linen.

A few more years passed and he witnessed the rise of Law in Miruvhor from

his home in the streets. He survived only upon what he could pull from

the trash. He would beg and scavenge around but all were disgusted by him.

On many a night he would wallow in pain from infections gained by fighting

off packs of cats for his sustenance and the wounds they would lay upon

him. Not even any of the guilds within the city walls would take him or

bother to teach him a thing. Often he would break the law by stealing from

unlocked houses and grabbing fish from the docks. He did not want to break

laws, he only did it so that he could be thrown in jail from shelter and a

free meal.

In winter he would stay awake long nights next to the Tavern to gain some

of it's warmth and stave the cold of death. He would do this often and be

spat on by nearly every patron who would walk into the building. In winter

when even the fountains froze over he would try to harvest any saliva spat

upon him just to get fluid into his system. One night while trying to stay

awake and keep his body warm enough for life two patrons came stumbling

out of the bar. An ogre, fairly small for his kind, and a staggering

duergar. They ranted and raved about the good times and women they've had

when their eyes met the man wrapped in rags in the corner. As they

drunkenly waltzed over to the man he looked up and his eyes met theirs.

They gave him but a quick glance and then were upon him. They began to

rough him up with blows to the kidneys, face, and back. The man plead to

them to stop attacking him, and that he had no gold or belongings to offer

them. But they cared not, they wanted but to bring great pain upon this man.

The duergar man threw him against a wall and grabbed him in a headlock.

After a not so quick bit of drunken thinking the duergar reached for his

small torch. He inched it closer and closer to the man's forehead. By now

the man was hysterical and in tears from pain. The duergar slowly yet

powerfully dragged the lit torch across the man's forehead, singeing off

his eyebrows. The man began to scream, "Help! Tribunal! Help!” No

answer was heard, no footsteps began, and no one indoors cared.

When the duergar was done with his sick deed he threw the torch into the

snow nearby wholly extinguishing it. The duergar moved his grasp from the

man's neck to his arms, pinning the man down with his arms behind his back.

The ogre then thought to begin his assault. A now empty bottle of liquor

left over from their stay in the tavern was in his hand. The ogre began a

heavy charge toward the man, and swung the bottle square at his face with

enough force to even make the duergar holding him buckle. The bottle

smashed the man's nose clear into oblivion. The ogre bellowed a deep

chuckle and tossed the body aside. The man felt himself slip away from

though, he felt death. He nearly embraced the end to his hopeless life.

But then a deep anger grew into his mind. Warm life and thought once

again poured into his brain. He needed death, but not him. With a burst

of adrenaline like no other he reached for the now discarded bottle from

the ogre. He barely reached the broken glass with the tips of his fingers.

He slowly slid the glass closer to his palm until he could get a grip on

it. With mighty force he thrusted the glass at the duergar man behind him.

A lucky swing brought the shard of glass clear into the duergar man's eyes.

As blood began pouring from his eye and pain clouded all though he let

loose a blood curdling scream of pain. The man then mounted upon the

duergar lying in the streets and stabbed multiple times into him with the

glass shard in his hand. A smile began to grace the mangles face of the

man as he stabbed again, and again, and again until the shard of glass was

little more than a pile of sand in his grasp. The Ogre witnessing all this

began to quake in fear, this man was no longer just a beggar to be mugged.

Realizing his friend no longer had any life left in his lungs he began to

slowly creep away. The man heard his shuffled and shaken up footsteps and

quickly turned to him. The man let loose a wild lunge at the ogre and

brought him to the ground. When upon the ogre he pounded with all his

might at the ogre's face, throat, and head. A myriad of blows flew threw

the air to the skull of the ogre till all the snow in a ten foot radius

was now covered in blood. The ogre cried like a small girl who had her

doll stolen from her safekeeping. The man looked into the face and broke

into a beaming smile. He looked at the ogre's face and laughed. He then

stuck both thumbs deep into the eye sockets of the ogre. He felt the eyes

below crush and pop under his grasp. He then began pulling the eye sockets

apart with the ogre now in too much shock to scream or whelp. After a

quick final tug a satisfying snap was heard from the sides of the ogre's

head as his skull was pulled to its breaking point.

The man now dismounted from his foes and lying facedown in the snow was

now once again stricken with cold and hunger. He tasted the blood that

was smeared across his face as it tricked into his mouth. It then dawned

on him that the two dead bodies equaled one thing, meat. In his infinite

hunger he desperately threw his teeth into the tender flesh of the ogre.

He gnawed straight through the arm until he hit bone, then moved to the

leg. This was a feast he had never before encountered, a seeming never

ending meat buffet. Once he finished devouring the corpse he caught his

breath and washed his face in a handful of snow. He went to the duerger

and removed his vest to wear. It's warmth and new leather smell gave a

better feeling to the man than any drug known on the lands could gift.

He held it close to him and sat as the pools of blood were slowly

absorbed into the snow. He stuck his hands into the pockets of the vest

to keep warm and found something he had never laid his hands upon before.

A pouch full of thirty gold pieces. The man was once again overcome by

joy, he had never felt any of the joys that money truly can buy before.

His mind raced immediately with ways to spend the gold he now possessed.

He figured it would be best to do what most people do with that amount

of money and took it into the tavern.

As he walked in the barmaid's eyes immediately fled from him. The blood

stains all over the vest he wore and disgracing everything else that

adorned him struck fear into the woman's heart. He slowly limped to the

bar. He asked for as much ale as could be purchased with his thirty gold

pieces. The woman said she could not accept his money and that he must

leave the tavern. The man became indignant, screaming and pleading that

it would be his first time and maybe the only money he would ever touch.

The woman cowered back from the man and motioned for the bouncers to

step in. The man saw the motion and looked to the burly man coming at

him. Before the bouncer could even get a word in the man rushed to him

and tightly wrapped his blood soaked hands around his neck. The bouncer

wheezed for air as his pipes were slowly crushed under the man's immense

stranglehold. The man shook his arms to gain more power while choking

the bouncer and a snarl grew onto his face. One more second and *snap*

he could feel and everyone in the bar could hear as the bouncer's neck

was crushed and snapped at the hands of the man. He dropped the new

corpse and saw a hatchet sheathed at the bouncer's waist, he quickly

pulled it out and drew it for battle with the last bouncer. The second

bouncer trying to apprehend him was already overwhelmed by the fray

and in a moment of distraction check on the whimpering barmaid. The

man saw his spot there and reached out to land the hatchet straight

into the bouncer's skull. The wound in his head began to bleed, and

soft brain tissue stuck to the hatchet as the body flopped to the

ground. A hysteria swept through the bar now that the shock of what

had happened had slipped from the patrons and they all ran from the

bar screaming. At that moment weakness once again struck the man, and

he fell no longer supported by him limp leg.

The man used a nearby table to steady himself to his feet. His eyes

were once upon the barmaid in the corner. He dropped the hatchet from

his grasp and slowly crept toward her. She was a mess of tears and

splattered with blood from the blow earlier driven deep into a living

man's skull. She could not form words nor even cry at this point. The

man looked back to his sack of gold and threw it full force at the

woman covering in the corner, catching her in the nose with the pouch

that caused once again the gut wrenching sound of crushing bones. The

man seeing himself as paid for what he would take limped behind the

bar and grabbed the two biggest tankards that he could find. He filled

them both to the brim and threw them to his mouth immediately. Ale not

only poured into his mouth but also fell and soaked the rest of his

body. He then dropped one glass and fell to his knees to suck straight

from the tap itself. As he made a glutton of himself he heard the final

whimper of the barmaid. He pulled himself from the tap and lurched

toward her. She covered herself in fear and finally let out a scream

for the tribunals to save her. The man's face then grew into an

enormous grin and he laughed from the bottom of his heart. He looked

at the girl and held her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"The Tribunals had forsaken me before, now it is your turn..." With

that, while still holding her chin in his hand, he slammed the empty

tankard into the side of her skull. It immediately crushed under the

pressure and what of the glass of the tankard did not shatter was

left inches deep in her skull. Blood slowly began to flow from around

her eyes and dripped from her nose. He stood up once more and

surveyed the empty tavern. His eyes met not a single soul left within

the establishment. He slowly limped to the fire blazing in the corner

and curled up next to it to sleep. Before sleep finally took him he

licked the blood from his lips and for once in his life, slept soundly.

Peace homies, I'll figure stuff out and be back soon.

-PieMan

Edit Note: I know it's rittled with typos, never had a chance to fine tune it, get over it.

[Anume]

A bit too gory for my taste, apart from that a good read.

[Fiere]

Miss you, be good, have fun.

[Deykari]

prof self mastered

You are mastered at:

1. Pie

Come back soon, MoP.

Dey

[Mindflayer]

Just curious as to how a cripple could lunge at people

[Pieman]

That all tied in with the fact that he wasn't a berserker by guild, just a natural one, the berserker rage helped him with that "charge"