The tattooed troll (paisunut 23. 9)

[Yarzel]

"So, Ludo, why are you on this perilous quest again?" asked Hugo, a halfling rat catcher, just to break the grim silence. "You are not an outcast like me and Sven and unlike Borri, you still care about your life. At least that's what I presume. Why did you leave the free food and almost-counts-as-comfortable beds of the monastery."
"Well, my friend, I realized I would not reach enlightenment inside the walls so I chose the life of homo viator to get to the touch wit my inner Sigmar... Oh, grow up! It's a classical word!"
Sven and Borri walked along ignoring their more talkative companions, bare steel and greasy hair gleaming in the morning sun. Hugo's wheezing dog Dammit hopped from one edge of the path to another sniffing for mice and gnawing Ludvig's robe hems every now and then.

This group of four adventurers wandered across the empire in search of... money, experience, freedom, nobody really knows, or more like cares. Their current task, for them a brief adventure among countless others, had been given them in a tavern of Heindorf village and they had accepted it of pure interest. Something humongous (or "huumugus") had been eating sheep at night, breaking milestones and scaring the villagers out of their minds with loud groaning. One of the regular patrons of the Blue Barrel, an one-eyed and gap-toothed old militiaman, said that the terror of the village was a troll. He claimed to have seen it years ago while it was terrorizing a hamlet some leagues from Heindorf. It had had a strange inscription on its chest but years of beer and turnip groat had blurred the memory of the old veteran as he failed tho remember the mark more closely. The villagers promised our heroes half of the loot of the troll and so they left to the hunt. Somehow the villagers forgot to tell them that "the loot" was most likely to be half-digested domestic animals.

But back to the moment when Ludo, Hugo, Sven and Borri, having traveled since early morning, were standing at the entrance of a cave which, judging by its stench, was either a troll den or a Marienburger harlot house. A gust of wind made Sven's fur vest and Borri's red crest move as the two studied the surroundings based on their martial experience. Beams of sweat gleamed on the bald heal of Ludo who was apparently about to realize what it was really like to be on a personal crusade. Hugo examined the contents of his nostrils with a grubby index finger while Dammit whimpered, odor of the cave reaching its canine nose. Norseman and the dwarf took a swig from a suspicious keg and rushed in. Ludo followed chanting a prayer of protection for them. The halfling muttered something under his breath and followed, kicking his mutt forward. Inside the cave Ludo's hammer pendant started to glow with red light.
"Well, that's handy. Should be brighter, though" said Hugo nervously gripping the hilt of his skinning knife.
"It's not a torch! It's not even supposed to do that unless there is..."
"A sorcerer" grunted Borri, sniffing the air.

Further in the grimy cave the adventurers saw the troll, or what most likely had been a troll: an abomination of blubber, layers of fat jiggling as it moved amid a collection of bones, cloth and junk scattered on the floor. An eight-pointed cross had been carved into its chest with greenly glowing ink. The monster wasn't alone, though. A figure in a dark robe, face obscured, held a glowing orb aloft some paces from the troll that seemed to be completely and obliviously charmed by it. Ludo's amulet blazed even redder.
" I was wondering if they dared to send anyone after their petty provisions. Apparently they could only afford a bunch of vagabonds." A voice not quite like anything human echoed in the cave. "Maybe you could still be of use."
"What in the name of Sigmar is this? Who are you? What use?" Shouted Ludo trying to hide a creeping sensation of fear, voice breaking from the effort.
"Sigmar is dead, like all the rest of your saints. They have no power here so shut up! I was hoping a serious militia patrol, one that could be turned to our side by talk or by force. You aren't worth of enslaving as personal thralls!"
"Oh, shut up already! Just get over with your plans of world domination and we'll charge ya! Ya see we've been in this situation before." spat Borri, adding a glob of phlegm to the assortment on the floor.
"Your ancestors are dead as well! Only the Lord is and will be!"
The slayer could not take it. His axes rose. Blush crept further from his nose. Borri charged towards the hooded thing, howling a khazalid war cry. Sven, not wanting to miss all the fun, screamed like an animal and ran after the dwarf, greataxe swinging in a wide arc.

The tone of the glowing orb changed and the troll no longer seemed so lulled by it. The beast turned and moved in between the hooded figure and charging madmen with an uncanny swiftness for such a fat creature. Axes sliced three large gaps to its pouch, revealing slimy innards that started to dangle outside the wounds. Sven and Borri stepped back lowering their axes.
"Get back to it and kill it already, you must have wounded it mortally by now!" Yelled Hugo who crouched behind his dog.
"No use without fire. We could chop it into ribbons without any progress."
The wounds of the troll began to knit together, sucking guts inwards like a fat Tilean does with his pasta. Hugo spewed of the sight.
"Okay, you knew this. I should focus on rats from now on." He said wiping his mouth with a sleeve.

Ludo gathered his courage. "It's easy to yell blasphemy behind a ton of lard. Face me and feel the wrath of the Hammer!"
"That lump of iron? That's not even a real relic."
"I have my faith and His warding, for I am devoted to His way!"
"Enough with the trash! What do you have to show for your devotion? Bald head and a trinket that glows! Only the lord of change presents real gifts to his underlings!" The voice of the hooded man echoed louder and louder, last traces of human features dissolving into maddening tones from somewhere beyond. It threw its hood backwards and tore off the bandages covering the lower half of its face. Underneath was a normal, strained-looking face of a scholar except for one thing: instead of a mouth it had only an intact batch of skin.

The mouthless one grabbed the chest of its robe with its free hand and ripped it open all the way to the waist, leaving strips of cloth hanging over the rope it had as a belt. The missing mouth was there, on its abdomen, loin to loin, full of sharp teeth. A pointed tongue, grotesquely large, lolled from it. And that mouth spoke to Ludo.
"Can't do this with a limestone, can you? I'm tired with this conversation. I'll have some fun now and feed you to my pet." The orb changed color and the troll seemed to wake up from a living slumber. Drool no longer dribbled to its chin. It blinked a few times and lurched forwards.

"Borri, how fast does the troll grow back missing fingers?" Whispered Hugo as they readied themselves for the confrontation.
"Less than a minute, two for a hand and five for the whole arm. Why?"
"Try to aim to its hands when you attack with Sven and then open the belly again, nice and wide. I've got a plan" said Hugo grinning and scratched Dammit from behind the ears.


Että semmoista tarinaa, toivottavasti ei ollut hirveää myrkkyä silmille. Parannuksia saa ehdottomasti ehdottaa, aloittelija kun vielä olen. Jatkoa kirjoitan ehdottomasti jos yleisö vain haluaa.

[Remos]

Näitä tarinoita arvostellessa ei voi olla painottamatta yhtä asiaa kielestä riippumatta.
Betaa tekstis.

"No, Ludo, miksi olet jälleen tällä vaarallisella meksikolaisella mausteella?"

Ei paljoa kiinnosta kirjoitatko suomeksi vai englanniksi. Englanniksi kirjoittaminen on ihan ok ja ihan rehellisesti sanottuna noin kieliopin puolesta tämä tekstinpätkä päihittää suurimman osan Sotu enkunkielisistä teksteistä. Oikeastaan kokonaisuus näyttää tosi hyvältä, mutta kirjoitusvirheitä on kuitenkin. Se on kun kirjoitat suomenkielisille lukijoilla englanniksi, kirjoitusvirheet on pakko nyhtää pois tekstistä. Muuten sitä ei vain voi ymmärtää. Yhden kirjaimen puutos sanassa voi johtaa siihen, että mahdollisia sanoja siihen vakoon olisi vaikka kuinka paljon. Tarkkaavaisuutta, "themonastery" ei taida olla mikään oma juttunsa kuitenkaan?

Tekstistä noin muuten... noh, itse en niinkään välitä lyhyt tarinoista. Ne on paskoja, noin lähtökohtaisesti. Tarinassa on viisi (?) päähenkilöä, mutta kaikki ovat hyvin kovin onttoja. Eipä niistä oikein voi sanoa mitään. Että onhan se teksti, ihan kiva, muttei oikein sano mitään. Kyllä tällätteen "pilotin" pitäisi olla vähintään 10 sivuinen, ei se muuten oikein anna mitään irti.

Ja sijoita jokaisen henkilön vuorottaiset puheet eri riveille, ei tuosta alun keskustelusta meinaa saada mitään selvää yhdeltä lukemalta.

[Yarzel]

Siitos palautteesta! Korjailin tuon alkupätkän. Tuo kirjoitusvirheiden tarkistaminen jäi jostain kumman syystä tekemättä tuolloin vaikka yleensä pyrin välttämään vaarallisia meksikolaisia mausteita (*värjää keesinsä oranssiksi*). Jaksoin kirjoittaa jonkin verran jatkoa ja trollailu pitenee tämän jälkeenkin ellei joku erikseen minua estä :0 Koettakaa kestää!