Curse

Rayea · Jul 25, 2005, 10:04 PM // 22:04

well, i was remided of this story today, and wondered if i should post the link to the page

http://pw2.netcom.com/~rogermw/ADnD/

i will post a small bit of it, so that you know that when it says disgusting, it sure dosent mean naughty, just munchkin-like

"Ho ho, Ringman!" the shining-armor-clad rider goaded. "You know you're no match for me!"

His bearded target ran out of the reach of his longsword's blade. The fleeing armored figure clenched his teeth and spat, "We'll see about that, Peter Perfect!"

Ringman the Bearded put his gauntleted index and middle fingers in his mouth and whistled. The bushes nearby rustled, and out charged a warhorse plated in glowing metal barding. Ringman put one foot in the left stirrup and mounted up, the clank of his own glowing armor against the horse's ringing of their adamantite alloys.

"You don't think your own warhorse will give you enough of an edge to defeat me, do you?" said Peter Perfect the Clean-Shaven. "My holy blade will rip you to shreds!" He raised the sword in his hand. It was one of those rare magic types that didn't glow.

Ringman stood firm. "As can my own holy blade!" The sword he drew did glow; in fact, it pulsated an intense greenish-white and hummed a bit. "Prometheus!" he addressed the sword. "Show this self-dubbed paladin what we can do!"

"You mean what I can do," the sword protested. Its luminous pulsations fit perfectly to the rise and fall of its voice.

Peter Perfect glanced down at his body. It was starting to move of its own accord. "Hey — what the?!"

"Prometheus has you in a telekinetic grip. You'd best surrender before it throws you into a tree at 512 feet per second."

"Not if I can dispel the effect," Peter Perfect said, gestured, and dispelled it. He fell perfectly onto his horse's saddle.

'Zounds,' Ringman thought. 'That's a third-level spell! Where did he get the experience points to —'

Peter Perfect lowered his eyebrows and his head while staring intently at Ringman. At once, he opened his eyes wide and a cone-shaped, yellow wave of mental force — a veritable blast of psionic power — cascaded out from his forehead and struck both Ringman and his horse. The armored man made his saving throw; his horse didn't, and collapsed.

Startled, Ringman got to his feet and went to the horse's neck to check for a pulse. There was none. His lower jaw quavered as he slowly turned back to Peter Perfect. "You've . . . killed . . . a paladin's warhorse! You call yourself lawful-good?!?!!"

"No, I call myself the epitome of paladinhood."

"STAND AND FIGHT, YOU MURDERER!" Ringman charged, magic-shield first.

Peter Perfect dismounted and let his horse's armor take Ringman's first blow, which was ineffective. The clean-shaven paladin rounded the animal and bashed Ringman with his shield, which sent him reeling.

'He's got the strength of a titan,' Ringman figured as he rolled head-over-heels backwards. His armor clanked heavily, but didn't hinder him as he regained his footing. "When was the last time you paid your tithe," Ringman asked as he charged and swung. His +2 to hit from strength and +5 to hit from the holy avenger finally got through Peter Perfect's armor class -10; Peter Perfect was wounded in the left shoulder.

"Argh," Peter arghed, clutching the wound. "Nobody does more than 10 hit points of damage to me and gets away with it!" He charged and hacked, hitting Ringman's +4 shield by mistake instead of his groin.

But the force was enough to knock Ringman on his back again. Peter Perfect straddled his prey and raised his sword again. Ringman hid behind his shield, which took the blow — in exactly the same place as it had just been hit. There was a deep groove along the shield's center.

Fury in his eyes, Peter drew back his sword a third time. Shimmering blue patterns raced from the metal girdle about his waist up the right side of his body and into his holy avenger's blade, giving him all the titan strength he needed. The sword came down like a meteor, on the same place it had hit Ringman's shield twice before, and broke the shield in half.

Ringman gasped, and rolled out of the way as quickly as he could. He stood up about twenty feet away, holding Prometheus in his right hand and drawing a lesser (+3) magical hand-axe with his left. He'd be at -2 to hit in his off hand, but at least he could use it to parry. Without his shield, his armor class was only -5.

Peter Perfect smiled. He knew he outmatched his rival. "Prometheus," he called, addressing Ringman's sword.

"Don't answer him," Ringman whispered to his sword.

"What is it, opponent?" the sword asked in spite of Ringman's plea.

"You're a holy sword. You serve a paladin, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I too am a paladin, and far superior to this wimp."

"I . . . see . . ." the sword pondered.

"Prometheus, this man is no paladin!" Ringman countered. "He must have killed at least three people on his way up here."

"No, only two," Peter Perfect corrected him. "And how many have you killed in the past week, Ringo?"

"Why, none."

"You see my point, Prometheus? You are a lethal weapon. Come join the service of a wielder who will let you be lethal."

"I like that idea," Prometheus mused. "I like it . . . a great deal." It jumped from Ringman's hands.

Ringman gaped. "Prome —"

"Don't bother me any more, wimp. I'm serving a real master now." The sword easily bridged the distance between its previous and its new owner, landing grip-first in Peter Perfect's right hand.

Ringman kneeled nearly motionless on the ground. His face was clenched in anger and sorrow. So much had happened since the day began, so much had changed for the worst.

Peter Perfect turned to walk away, but glanced back over his shoulder. He had accomplished his mission for the day. "And just to show you there are no hard feelings, Ringboy —" He tossed his non-sentient holy avenger, which landed ten inches away from Ringman point-first. "— You can have my old sword." He mounted up, and rode away.

Ringman slowly raised his head to look at the blade. "Stained with the blood of how many?" he asked. In any event, a holy longsword was a holy longsword. He picked up the sword, wondering if a good bath would clean off the blade's blood and bad memories.

^^

Danny_Rowe · Jul 25, 2005, 10:13 PM // 22:13

can someone read this and give me the just of it

Swampgirl Inez · Jul 25, 2005, 10:15 PM // 22:15

I scrolled down here to see if you could... :/

Rayea · Jul 25, 2005, 10:16 PM // 22:16

it is a tale of a realy nice guy, getting into a fight and getting to get to a realy high level with munchkin antics and inside jokes along the way, and lots of tongue in cheek stuff about dungeons and dragons