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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Along Came a Drunkard....


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(Conversion confusion, this is the original post in this thread)

 

 

 

*Sniff!* The sweet odor of alcohol faintly tickled the pale nose of a robed figure in an alley. Long had the shadowed figure journeyed without his faithful companion at his side, yet that would soon change. The Decanter was close; he could almost feel it's presence.

 

The tall traveller moved from the deeper shadows of the alley to the edge of the lit street. Ebony eyes, set upon a stark white face, watched the establishment of the Pen, specifically one lit window. Wyvern was in there, somewhere.

 

His pale hands trembled slightly. He would wait no longer.

 

With a quick stride, the tall stranger closed the distance from the alley to the stout oak door under the familiar sign of the Quill. "I will have what is mine!" he declared to himself. Light and laughter flooded his senses as he pushed the door open.

 

Laughter suddenly died on the lips of a few mages as they recognized who stood among them. Surprise filled the void of emotions for them. Belizean was the first to respond. "Brute! You..you've returned!" A pale smile covered Brute's face. "Yup. Seen Wyvern? I'm to be a new member of this joint an' then he's gonna give the Decanter back to me. I sure do miss it."

 

From upstairs near Wyvern's office, a crash is heard followed by a muttered curse.

 

 

Brute

O Drunken One

Edited by: Brute3 at: 1/19/02 12:27:50 am

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Wyvern will ask the legendary drunken one to check his e-mail before Wyv writes his response...

 

[image]http://www.legion-whiterose.com/signatures/aoa/wyv.gif[/image]

 

 

------------------------------

Almost a Dragon...

"My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense"

 

Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

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The Prophet of Booze slowly sniffs his way towards the sweet aroma of alcohol, letting his olfactory glands act as his guide. He wavers down the central hall of the Pen with his head to the air, swaying back and forth in order to not lose track of the scent. His sense of smell finally guides him to a closed office door which is marked "Recruiter's Office" and has the words "All bribes are welcome!" scrawled in red ink directly underneath the title. Brute peers at the door closer and notices that written in smaller letters on its front are the words 'Run by Wyvern- the Elder of Initiates'. Upon reading this, a grin spreads its way across Brute's pale face. This was it... the Decanter was here alright! The Apostle of Alcohol excitedly opens the office door and enters, not noticing a sign which had been purposely placed to the side of the door that reads: "Out on a lunch break/geld making scheme... come back later"...

 

No sooner has Brute entered the office then the entrance door is automaticly slammed shut and locked behind him. The lights of the room suddenly dim, and a finger with a nail painted in a disgusting polka dot nail polish hits the 'play' button on an old 60's 12-inch record player. The sound of static fills the room for a brief moment... and then the Marvin Gaye song "Let's Get it On" begins bursting through the speakers.

 

Suspicious and already a bit nervous, Brute slowly looks around his dimly lit surroundings and makes eye contact with a person sitting on top of Wyvern's desk... a rather plump woman looking somewhere in her mid-forties wearing a horrible outfit that bears some vague ressemblance to a fancy dress. (minus all the class).

 

"I'm wearing 'Eau-de-Booze' cologne..." cooes Melba from her position on top of the desk "I thought you'd like it..."

 

Brute backs up against the closed entrance door and screams in terror as Melba hops off the desk and begins advancing towards him...

 

"I've heard so much about you, you big Brute of a man you..."

 

Brute franticaly looks for some method of escape, only to realize that there are none...

 

"You're like the meatball and I'm the 'Matzah Ball Soup'..." purrs Melba, advancing closer now and drooling at the thought of a bowl of soup. Brute backs up against the wall as much as he can. "I'm like a chocolate midnight cookie, and you're the chocolate coating and the extra cream filling!"

 

Melba is about to embrace Brute when suddenly the entrance door to the office is slammed open and Wyvern strides in, weilding a 'Jane Fonda Workout' video. Holding the video in front of him, he cries:

 

"Back, Melba! Back I say!"

 

Seeing the video, Melba hisses and takes several steps back, slinking back to her assistant corner and reverting back to her normal, less arroused state. The music turns off and the lights of the office regain their usual brightness... Wyvern smiles and turns to Brute, who now looks even paler then usual...

 

"Hi Brutesy, welcome to the Pen! Terribly sorry about my almost secretary here, the least I can do is accept your application..."

 

Brute nods, relieved and happy to be a member. As Wyv pours him a drink and pats him on the back, Brute forgets to consider taking back the Decanter...

 

 

 

OOC: Welcome to the Pen Brute!!! An ACCEPTED application which demonstrates your excellent writing ability. While I'm not giving up possesion of the Decanter, I'll frequently share it with you here on a regular basis. I look forward to reading more of your writing and participating with you in RPing. Once again, welcome!

 

[image]http://www.legion-whiterose.com/signatures/aoa/wyv.gif[/image]

 

 

------------------------------

Almost a Dragon...

"My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense"

 

Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze.

Edited by: Wyvern00  at: 1/21/02 6:26:28 pm

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OOC: Thanks, Wyvern. If you'd like to see a bit of my writing, take a peak in the Library. It's only the beginning of a story that was originally meant for another forum, but I felt it could probably be tolerated in here as well. The remainder of the story will be written by Jarom Stormbrow, my other alias.

 

 

Brute

O Drunken One

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A quiet nothing inhabits the tiny shadows in the room, far more thought than presence. A memory surfaces. Then another. The faces and voices, smells and experiences of the past few minutes set off a chain of bursting recollections, not wholly unpleasant, but ultimately overwhelming. Before the thought is squelched by the past and the present, it gathers itself into a feeling-form very similar to a warm smile and assembles silent words, wishes that no one will ever hear.

 

 

Welcome back, my friend.

Edited by: Yui Temae at: 1/25/02 8:21:42 am

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The office door slams open, and a beaming Ozymandias appears there.

 

"Brute, my friend!! One more of the old guard come home to roost, eh?" Brute starts to speak, but the energetic old man cuts him off, eyeing the double shot of whiskey Wyvern had just poured for him.

 

"Tsk. Such a welcome isn't fitting. This calls for a little something I've been saving..." Ozymandias snaps his fingers and a full two dozen Imps appear fluttering in the air around his head. Gesturing at Brute, the fallen king says only, "You know what to do," and the tiny creatures are off at breakneck speed out the window.

 

A minute later (a full sixty seconds of Ozymandias' unsettling grin) there is a popping noise, and metallic squeaking is heard in the hall. Escorted by what seems now to be more on three or four dozen Imps is a massive metal keg that is wrapped in a least three different hides, yards of interlocked chains,is inscribed with more protection runes than can be counted and has three Devil Monkeys sitting astride it, looking very sullen, with one ankle each attached to the chains.

 

The middle one mutters, "Ya knuckleheads," and twists the other two's noses hard. The entire affair fairly glows with malevolent mana energy.

 

Ozymandias removes the powdered toenail of a beast that no longer exists, utters ancient words, and turns around three times. A gate to a dimension even The Dreamer does not know opens. Reaching into his robes, pulling out two woolen gloves and donning them, he passes his hands carefully through the small opening in the air. Slowly, carefully, Oz withdraws his hands. Clasped gingerly in them is a plain pine box, no bigger than Brute's fist, tied shut with a leather strap. Undoing the strap, flipping the lid open and reaching inside, Ozymandias removes...a tap.

 

Impossibly, the old Phantasm Mage's grin widens. "My personal supply of Ol' Peculiar. Hope you two still have your mugs."

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  • 2 weeks later...

(OOC: terribly sorry about the late, late, late reply. I blame Wyvern somehow. )

 

Brute's eyes visibly brighten at the mention of the ancient and beloved drink. "Why, yes I do have a few mugs!" Brute's tongue pokes out of his mouth lopsidedly as he fishes in a pocket for the mugs. Withdrawing a scroll, Brute curiously unrolls it enough to read the top few lines of writing. "GAd!! Evil,evil thing!" He quickly shoves it back into his pocket for a later emergency. His ebony eyes widen with anticipation as he pulls out...a shiny metal box with two narrow slots in the top and a cord trailing behind it.

 

Brute stares mesmerized at the reflective surface of the thing, drool forming at the corner of his mouth. "Ooooh.... shiny...shiny thing," he murmurs. "Shiny flashlight," he absently corrects himself. Turning the thing over in his hand, a flash of memory sparks across his clouded mind. "Booze," he mumbles. With a shake of his head, he drops the flashlight and continues to dig for the mugs.

 

After withdrawing his lost keys, a Holy Grail, and a fake golden token for a free kewpie doll, he finally discovers the mugs. Both are coated in fire-resistant, acid-proof, and explosion-nullifying fibers. Mugs made specifically to drink Ol' Peculiar. "Aha!" Brute beams to Ozy. "Let's drink, shall we?"

 

 

Brute

O Drunken One

Prophet of Booze

Edited by: Brute3 at: 2/10/02 7:15:42 pm

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(ooc to those that replied, in what I vainfully hope was delighted surprise, I say to you:Thank you! I'm very glad to be back, and thrilled to see you guys again!

 

 

Brute

O Drunken One

Prophet of Booze

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