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Hey, Forumers. You had better find something to eat before night comes...


Battal
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67 members have voted

  1. 1. What do you think about this new story type thing.

    • Really cool, have my reputation!
    • It's neat.
    • Eh, meh...
    • Nah.
    • I wish it would die in a muddy ditch, alone, without friends, family, or HOPE!


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I thought it would be appropriate to put this here.

 

@Lord_Battal

 

666 POST PARTY YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS I DID IT YEAH HAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHA BAHAHA YES *CONFETTI RAIN* GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

 

 

I turned myself into a human with the "1 Free Ritual" coupon I got on my 666th post. What are you going to do with it?

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Segment Nine

"Ruin"

 

Forget the crock pot.  Battal thought to himself.  The entire camp is what needs fixing now.  He walked around the ruins of the clearing, searching for anything he could salvage.  He pulled a large chunk of rock out of an ash pile, and sighed as her remember how it had happened.  In the tumult with Flintface, the fire pit and the embers within had been scattered.  Due to the wooden floor, the camp had no chance; it burned to the ground before anyone could act.  All they could do was watch.  At least the blaze had provided enough light to protect them from the Grue.

 

Now, the trio stood outside the camp's ruins.  Taking a couple minutes to explain the situation to Pecival, they gathered their remaining supplies and set off.  Blewcheese led the way, with Pecival in the middle and Battal taking the back.  The Sentient Voodoo was thrilled; there were so many small animals around, and none of them seemed to be afraid of him.  Every few minutes, he would run off to a nearby rabbit, stab it through the eye, and drag it back to the group.  Pretty soon, both Battal and Blewcheese were weighed down by what seemed like tons of rabbit carcases. 

 

When night came, the group set up a campfire and cooked some food they had collected along the way.  Battal tried rabbit for the first time in his life.  It was, he decided, food of minor gods, perhaps.  When morning came, they kicked out the remains of the fire and continued.  Over rivers, through forests, their journey continued.  Finally, Blewcheese collapsed onto a log.  "Do we even have any idea where we're going?"  He asked, panting.  Battal thought for a few seconds, then shook his head.  "No idea."  Pecival then pointed a cloth hand towards something in the distance.  "Perhaps we should travel to that."

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Every few minutes, he would run off to a nearby rabbit, stab it through the eye, and drag it back to the group.  Pretty soon, both Battal and Blewcheese were weighed down by what seemed like tons of rabbit carcases. 

 

 

epic_face_clip_art_by_blooddrunk12-d4dgz

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(The long overdue)

Segment Ten

"Sentience, Art, and Mutated Potatoes"

 

     Battal, Blewcheese and Pecival were close, now.  The plume of smoke was so close, they could see the individual clouds that made up the dark mass.  Yelling rang out from the source.  The trio was cautious; even if they were other people, their predicament might get them all killed.  They entered a clearing, not unlike the one Blewcheese was camping in, and they found what can only be described as a strange sight.  In the middle of the camp, a person in a yellow dress waved a piece of soggy grass over a flaming chunk of meat.  Nearby, a mass of writhing tendrils rushes around, collecting more grass and dunking it a nearby pond.  Jakob runs forward and extinguishes the meat, which to his half-surprise blurts a "Thank you" before passing out.

 

(And, bam.  That's all ya get.  I'm still going through writer's block.)

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Segment Eleven

"Click on this link for a free taco"

 

      After the commotion in the camp had been sorted out, and the two groups had acquainted, Battal restarted the fire.  Pulling in a log as a seat, he stared into the blaze for a while.  Eventually, he looked up at his newfound allies.  Willette, who was busy scribbling away nearby.  Dwer, doing tentato things that we humans have yet to understand.  Wallace, recounting the madness at camp to Blew while Pecival sneaked up behind him with a lengthy needle.  While Battal felt relatively safer with their company, something still felt...off about them.  It had been too easy finding them.  There was some kind of diabolical plot here, and Battal planned to be out of the way when the trap's jaws snapped shut.

 

Morning cast light across the clearing, and the party converged to discuss recent events.  Battal considered unveiling his suspicions, but decided against it.  If there truly was a plan here, uncovering it would probably just set it in motion.  He could wait.  In the meantime, he thought in silence, oblivious to his compatriots.  Unless, of course, if they yelled something completely and utterly random. 

 

"Click this link for a free taco!"

 

Dwer yelled completely and utterly randomly, startling Battal out of his stupor.  He pulled out his crude spear and swung it wildly before realizing it had come from the tentato. 

 

"What was that abo-" 

 

"I am italian, so my english might not be 100% correct."  Dwer interrupted.  Battal looked in confusion at the others before Willette spoke.

 

"That's all he says, besides from 'I have an art thread!'  We don't know why."

 

Battal sighed.  "Great.  So I'll have to deal with-"

 

"Click this link for a free taco!"

 

"-that."

 

Battal put down his weapon and stood up.  "Well, I have some stuff to do, so...seeya."

 

Walking to the edge of the clearing, he pulled out his tallbird eyelid and a chunk of flint. First, he cut the lashes off.  Then, he scraped the flesh out of the inside.  Finally, he cut a small hole in one end.  He wrapped the makeshift belt around his waist, threading one end through the hole.  "This should let me carry more stuff."  He said, gazing at his handiwork.  While he was examining this, a hand burst out of the brush almost silently and covered Battal's mouth.  The cold blade of a knife pressed into his throat.

 

"Walk out of the clearing, if you don't want to die."

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