Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 6, 2004 12:09:16 GMT -5
Originally posted by Inquisitor Addendorff
‘Bite’ rode into town on a horse!’ chuckled the old barman. He was a grotty old man in his late fifties T.S. His son, who was around twenty-five now T.S., was cleaning a glass and not paying much attention to the comings and goings of the bar. The old barman was called Jack Daniels, his son John Daniels. Jack run the ‘Old Bootlace Saloon’ in a quaint little frontier world called Krill V.
The bar was dusty and dirty, although the sun beat down for 34 hours a day, the bar was particularly well hidden. The planets Cellarion, the vast imperial building that housed all of the oil mined on the continent. Over all Krill had eight different Cellarions, seven built on Krill primus, the last and only stockade for oil, was built in the little town of New Barton.
The collection of men laughed heartily, it was the kind of forced laugh reserved only for one who truly, in there eyes, deserved it.
‘Ow many years ‘as e’ had that land speeder now?’ asked a young and semi-toothless man, his remaining teeth illuminated by his oil-smeared face.
‘Yeh’ all wunt’ be laughin’ so hard if Bite’ was here’ scoffed another oil worker. This one was older, and had a grey beard that stretched across his face.
‘Ah ‘shet up’ Mickey ‘ya crazy ole’ fool’ said the barman.
Outside Chris Campbell, a.k.a Snake Bite was seeing to his horse. Members of the Robinson Guild had stolen his land speeder, along with his wife, his kid and his grox’s. Then, they burned his ranch to the ground.
Campbell had been a bounty hunter once; they say the best on Krill, until he finely gave up the old life, after killing Anthony Robinson, and setting off a guild war so bad it lasted for nearly a decade. Hundreds, perhaps thousands were killed. Nobody really blamed Chris, he had a family now, plus his reputation stayed with him.
The Oakmole Guild had been the ruling guild for nearly three hundred years before the Robinson’s moved in, confiscating and pillaging grox farmers to fund their Guild. Soon the Oakmoles got worried, and sent ole Bite out to kill the leader. This was a severe blow to the Robinson’s, but his younger brother took over the role of Guild-Master, and started pressing the farmers even harder.
They say, that when you do something bad, well that bad has a way of coming round and biting you on the behind. That’s the story with ole‘ Bite’.
Chris walked into the Saloon, the dusty air filling his lungs. He walked over to the bar. ‘So what ya’ gonna do about’ ‘dem ‘der groxs Bite’?’ asked Mickey.
The others stared at Mickey, ‘Bite might have been a rich-assed son of a las, but he was still a man to be feared.
‘I’m gonna ask the Robinson’s for them back.’ Said Chris.
The others started to laugh but Chris just stared at them, soon the laughter died away.
‘Well what’ll it be ‘Bite’? Asked Jack.
‘No, I’m not here for drinkin right now, I’m here for a room.’ Said ‘Bite.
‘Well we’ve got your old one, at the back, if you want I could-‘<br>
‘No.’ ‘Bite interrupted.
‘I want one facing the sun, onto the open plains.’<br>
‘But, err, you’ll never get any sleep, what’d d’ya want one there for?’<br>
‘You misunderstand. I want two rooms, my old one, and one facing the plains’.
‘Err, O.K ‘Bite, that’s eight credits a night.
‘Four’ said ‘Bite.
‘Seven’<br>
‘Five’<br>
‘Er.. Six’<br>
‘Done’ said ‘Bite slapping the money on the table.
‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I gott’a bring me stuff in.’<br>
And so did october 31, 2003 pass into the conclaves history as the night of massive lock down.
"We are the harbingers of a new age. We control the element of our futures. We are the three, yet we are one, and we will show you the way." -Inquisitor Vlad Erin Carlson of the Triad.
‘Bite’ rode into town on a horse!’ chuckled the old barman. He was a grotty old man in his late fifties T.S. His son, who was around twenty-five now T.S., was cleaning a glass and not paying much attention to the comings and goings of the bar. The old barman was called Jack Daniels, his son John Daniels. Jack run the ‘Old Bootlace Saloon’ in a quaint little frontier world called Krill V.
The bar was dusty and dirty, although the sun beat down for 34 hours a day, the bar was particularly well hidden. The planets Cellarion, the vast imperial building that housed all of the oil mined on the continent. Over all Krill had eight different Cellarions, seven built on Krill primus, the last and only stockade for oil, was built in the little town of New Barton.
The collection of men laughed heartily, it was the kind of forced laugh reserved only for one who truly, in there eyes, deserved it.
‘Ow many years ‘as e’ had that land speeder now?’ asked a young and semi-toothless man, his remaining teeth illuminated by his oil-smeared face.
‘Yeh’ all wunt’ be laughin’ so hard if Bite’ was here’ scoffed another oil worker. This one was older, and had a grey beard that stretched across his face.
‘Ah ‘shet up’ Mickey ‘ya crazy ole’ fool’ said the barman.
Outside Chris Campbell, a.k.a Snake Bite was seeing to his horse. Members of the Robinson Guild had stolen his land speeder, along with his wife, his kid and his grox’s. Then, they burned his ranch to the ground.
Campbell had been a bounty hunter once; they say the best on Krill, until he finely gave up the old life, after killing Anthony Robinson, and setting off a guild war so bad it lasted for nearly a decade. Hundreds, perhaps thousands were killed. Nobody really blamed Chris, he had a family now, plus his reputation stayed with him.
The Oakmole Guild had been the ruling guild for nearly three hundred years before the Robinson’s moved in, confiscating and pillaging grox farmers to fund their Guild. Soon the Oakmoles got worried, and sent ole Bite out to kill the leader. This was a severe blow to the Robinson’s, but his younger brother took over the role of Guild-Master, and started pressing the farmers even harder.
They say, that when you do something bad, well that bad has a way of coming round and biting you on the behind. That’s the story with ole‘ Bite’.
Chris walked into the Saloon, the dusty air filling his lungs. He walked over to the bar. ‘So what ya’ gonna do about’ ‘dem ‘der groxs Bite’?’ asked Mickey.
The others stared at Mickey, ‘Bite might have been a rich-assed son of a las, but he was still a man to be feared.
‘I’m gonna ask the Robinson’s for them back.’ Said Chris.
The others started to laugh but Chris just stared at them, soon the laughter died away.
‘Well what’ll it be ‘Bite’? Asked Jack.
‘No, I’m not here for drinkin right now, I’m here for a room.’ Said ‘Bite.
‘Well we’ve got your old one, at the back, if you want I could-‘<br>
‘No.’ ‘Bite interrupted.
‘I want one facing the sun, onto the open plains.’<br>
‘But, err, you’ll never get any sleep, what’d d’ya want one there for?’<br>
‘You misunderstand. I want two rooms, my old one, and one facing the plains’.
‘Err, O.K ‘Bite, that’s eight credits a night.
‘Four’ said ‘Bite.
‘Seven’<br>
‘Five’<br>
‘Er.. Six’<br>
‘Done’ said ‘Bite slapping the money on the table.
‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I gott’a bring me stuff in.’<br>
And so did october 31, 2003 pass into the conclaves history as the night of massive lock down.
"We are the harbingers of a new age. We control the element of our futures. We are the three, yet we are one, and we will show you the way." -Inquisitor Vlad Erin Carlson of the Triad.