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| Brotherhood; Retirement Thread | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 29 2010, 07:24 PM (195 Views) | |
| Twentyfists | Sep 29 2010, 07:24 PM Post #1 |
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Five Fingers of Fury
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Sweat poured off Ulic's body in the desert heat. The sun shone down like a fiery eye, baking everything below. The sweat ran like rivers down off his brow, soaking his bandanna before pouring into his robes. He shook the mason jar longingly, hoping to scrounge a few more drops of tea from its depths, but to no avail. He knew there was something up ahead soon. There had to be. His tongue was like an overcooked slab of meat broiling in his mouth. It lolled out from his mouth as he panted to release heat. He needed to do something. Ulic tore frantically at the bandanna around his head. He whipped it off and held it to his lips, twisting and letting his dirty sweat run off into his lips. It tasted of salt and grime and was hot, but it was water. It did nothing but delay the inevitable. The tribal warrior staggered through the sand. His legs were jelly, breaking apart at the hips, running down past his legs, and congealing somewhere in the sand around his ankles. His tongue was little more than a strip of fur, the tail of some poor best that had the misfortune of fastening itself to Ulic's jaw. His head swam. Multicolored snakes and a phalanx of rainbow-colored fireflies danced in front of his eyes, taunting him by hiding the possible sight of water or a settlement from him. The weight of his weapons bit into his arms and shoulders. He began to discard them, dropping his spear first and letting it roll into the sand, then shrugging off his club. His throwing sticks were next, and last came his knife. There was a soft "Thik!" noise as it slid, blade first, into the dunes. He had to keep going. Had to keep going. Had to... It was to no avail. His knees buckled and he fell, tasting sand and death as it roiled, churning and burning its way into his mouth and down his throat into the cavern of his body. His vision swam. He grunted and moaned as he watched through bleary eyes as Death came for him in the desert. Death came to him as three tall men, striding purposefully through the sand. He lifted his hands and reached, then fell into blackness. (OOC: I am done, as I don't have the energy to properly retire Ulic.) |
![]() Marcus Castor Williams Level 2 Mercenary. Dark skin, close cut hair, long face, constant scowl. Rudimentary Revolver, Baseball, Hatchet x2, Tribal Food Pouch, Holiday Can of Amarillo Cola, Tribal Linens with Tribal Battle Helmet, 1 Large Hide. Current Condition--Normal. 4 kills. Nash Rhodes Level 2 Raider Bruiser. Long greasy hair, black beard, tall, broad, muscles. Rusted Mounted Machine Gun, Rock Knuckles (GC), Modified Tattered Leather Jacket. Current Condition--Just fine. 3 kills | |
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| Run4 | Oct 15 2010, 02:02 PM Post #2 |
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Iron Crow
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Good work - especially for a death piece.
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Caleb Wolff, Level 7 Tribal Ranger. (Inventory) Jackal, Level 5 Glowing Ghoul. (Inventory)[/align] | |
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4:24 PM Jul 10