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Author Topic: Legomaestro`s Storybox  (Read 473 times)

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Offline legomaestro

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Legomaestro`s Storybox
« on: July 14, 2017, 04:23:29 AM »
Short stories, off the top of my head. Snippets and bits, concepts and things.


Synopsis: Terry the bartender has a bar at the edge of civilization, where all sorts of adventurers go through before they head off to their grand adventures...

Terry the bartender watched as the heroes, bandits, mages and monsters gathered in his pub. He`d been at this job 25 years and still couldn't help wonder how diverse a world could be.

A paladin in sparkling silver armour walked up to the counter and smiled. Her armour did very little to hide her considerable bust and curvaceous form. Her hair was a waterfall of black, and she held her deadly spear with the ease of a master.

"One mead wine, please."

Terry smiled, "Paladin Clara. Of course."

She'd been around 2 days. So far from the main kingdom this was rare. People visited Terry's Place as a last stop of civilization before venturing into the Dark Lands, where adventure and death awaited.

At his last count, there were 3 different wars, 14 world-ending prophecies and 3 legendary monsters that the adventurers were after.

He poured out the order efficiently. He knew no fancy drink-preparing drinks despite his years of experience. He always promised himself he`d get better at it, so long as he had time, but there was always something else...

Clara smiled as she received her drink and winked at him, "Wish me luck."

"You're a holy knight of the river kingdom. I wish you blessings and kind storms instead." He grinned.

Clara laughed - it sounded like crystals  - and she went on her way.

And then came a necromancer. He had a mask on his face, and he smelled like absolutely nothing. Terry suspected he`d died in the process of mastering his particular discipline. It happened often.

"Need blood?" Terry asked with a professional smile this time.

"I'll do with some resin juice this time, thank you." The necromancer looked down at a little girl who was holding his hand. She seemed shy.

Terry raised his eyebrow and went to get the beer. When he returned, the necromancer seemed kind enough to satisfy his curiosity when the beer came.

"Her mother is embroiled in politics in her city at the moment. I'm babysitting."

"You're a necromancer."

"And she revived me from the dead and taught me all I know. She's a genius, my daughter." The necromancer gave her a drink and she accepted it with a gleeful cheer, and they walked off.

Terry watched them go, and turned to serve a troll, a wizard, a dwarf, an elf.

All the while feeling worse, as he was forced to smile all the more.

Because under his bar top counter was a sword and shield that had been gathering dust for the past 25 years. He`d been 15, once. An adventurer with nothing special to his name, but he`d had enough money to buy a sword and shield, and he wanted to go explore the world. At first every stop his made on his way to the Dark Lands had been for something practical: Improve his street talk, make some friendships. And some of those meetings had been amazing - He`d promised to go back and meet some of them... 25 years had passed since then.

And eventually he`d made it to this pub at the border of everything safe sound and normal, and he`d found a job just to get some extra funds, just to take a break for a month. The weather had been bad, after all.
And the excuses only piled up. All the while he saw other groups of undeniably talented and fated warriors - people with haunted looks and hard looks, people with handsome faces and rippling muscle. People blessed and cursed by fates so strong they were destined to make history one way or the other.

And he`d just been the sun of a tailor. And bartending wasn't that bad. Eventually he`d get into it.
Eventually, he`d be an adventurer.

After today.

After he served the last customer (A drunk bandit with a heavy axe) , Terry felt as dirty as he always did. In one gradual dark wave, his practiced smile faded away as a hollow opened up in his chest. Things couldn't go on like this. But he`d had this thought for several years as well. It never changed.

Terry lit a lamp, poured himself a drink and sat at the table. He listened to the night crickets. He stared outside the dirty window.

Offline legomaestro

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Re: Legomaestro`s Storybox
« Reply #1 on: July 20, 2017, 04:40:44 PM »
Arnold holds a katana. He swings it through the air. he feels its flow, hears its sharp edge part the space with a low whistle. It's lud enough to make him wince, so focused he is on its action.
     He's been training his mind for the past month, and it seems its finally paying off. All the wise sayings on the Great Swordsman book were coming to fruition: He is becoming one with the blade, the blade, him. He almost doesn't hear Stephanie walk in on him, admiring his form.
     "You are a long way from that trembling, snot-nosed brat you once were."
     "I never was snot-nosed, Stephanie. Wet eyed, maybe, but never snot-nosed."
     His carefully measured tone is another change as well. The more Stephanie sees him, the more she realizes how much Arnold had matured as a man and warrior. He was sure to finally flourish as a Bushido School student, and not as the son of the late Swordsmaster and principal of the school, Bradley Sunsun.
     After his father's death, he'd been treated no different, but he'd been able to see the void of his powerlessness all the more. Too busy looking up the latest vids on the Net, too busy floating through life to care about family, honour or swordsmanship.
     But long gone are those days. After six months of intense training, he was finally ready. Arnold would forge his own fate, and that would start with the prime source of torment during his tenure at the school:
     "Frederick." He whispered to himself.
     "Hm? What was that?"
     "No-no it was nothing." He continued practicing.
     Frederick Jones is the opposite of Arnold in every way. He came from nothing and trained himself in the two-handed sword combat style to such an extent that his title as Swordsmaster would only be a matter of time. He is charismatic, determined and proud of his abilities, and despite his humble background everything falls at his feet as though he had been born royalty in the first place.
     He seems to have fate itself at its knees sometimes, challenging the most powerful opponents on the school grounds and surviving every encounter no matter how difficult. He'd made it a point to show his disdain for Arnold, the boy with the silver spoon, too weak to even fight the east of the students on Bushido School, and the both of them knew it at the time.
     At the time.
     "You want to fight Fred?" Stephanie was sceptical. "Don't, Arnold. You've gained your skill, but you're not someone who goes out looking for fights. "
     "If I had, I'd have been much further than I was now. You know it as well as I do, Steph, theory and practice can only get you so far."
     "Killing is forbidden, but it can and does happen. You're not ready to face that sort of thing yet, Arnold. You've become something else but you haven't tested yourself there at all."
     "I have." Arnold put his sword down and looked off into the distance. The Crescent Sun District was as calm as ever. The rolling hills and valleys with rice pads betrayed nothing of the mega city that slumbered beneath it all. Years ago, humanity had gone underground to let the surface belong to the wild, and geothermal energy produced more than enough for energy needs the more you went underground.
     "I have come from the brink of the death of my soul." He said, looking at Stephanie. "I like you. I can say that not as a timid, shy child cowering at the slightest discomfort. I want to fight, because I find it exciting. I want to win, to prove myself. In the past I was too afraid to do anything like that. Too-"
     "Shut up!" Stephanie punched him in the face and covered hers, blushing furiously, "What the hell are you saying you idiot. You've been meditating too much. I'm gone. Go get killed by Fred for all I care!"
     "Shut up shut up shut up!" She slapped Arnold on the head with her sheathed blade numerous times. Arnold suffered the injustice without saying anything.
     Stephanie stopped and rested her head lightly against Arnold's chest.
     "Took you long enough."
     "So do you want to get married, or-"
     Arnold rubs his swollen cheek as he watches the sun set. Tomorrow is the start of a new day. He would welcome it.

Offline Coldmiser8675

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Re: Legomaestro`s Storybox
« Reply #2 on: July 23, 2017, 08:06:45 PM »
I was very intrigued with Hopes and Dreams. I love the concept! It would make a great manga if Terry had the opportunity to adventure after twenty-five years, meeting with all the characters who visited his bar along the way. Or, perhaps, he meets a new crew and he discovers that all the characters he met at his bar died, like that Paladin Clara.

Honestly, you could make some pretty good stuff with this, and I encourage you to write out a full manuscript. Just revamp some of what you already had written, and add some more! Also, it wouldn't hurt to size up on the font. It hurts my eyes trying to squint at the words.

Overall, good job and keep it up  :thumbsup:
Check out my story! Honey, Stalin Took the Kids >>,13888.0.html

Offline KeanFox

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Re: Legomaestro`s Storybox
« Reply #3 on: July 24, 2017, 04:17:14 AM »
First story sound cool. If its a manga we have to get out of the bar at some point. But as text its fun to see people come and go.

Offline IndecisiveChild

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Re: Legomaestro`s Storybox
« Reply #4 on: August 06, 2017, 08:37:57 PM »
First story sounds cool. I think it'd be more
fun if you spiced it up a bit like Coldmiser suggested.

The second one had a strong battle manga feel to it... Even the the dialogues but i didnt see that coming, :D love, the girl and him... Honestly i was looking forward to a clash of swords but either way, it was good. Keep it up😁
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