Doroschuk
07-07-2012, 10:39 PM
Part 1:
“And there he was, staring me in the face, nothing between us but my super-heated blaster.” He paused dramatically, looking around for any signs of interest from the audience. There were none. “He lunged at me,” the young rogue continued, “and it was a poor choice on his part. ‘Cause I… Yeah I took it to him. Gave him three plasma burns before he could get to me. ‘Course by then he was down and out fighting wise. But the ol’ boy wouldn’t die. Big, hairy monster you know? Nasty thing; big and ugly. But I keppa shootin’ at him, and eventually he went down and looked pretty dead. But you know what? That ol’ boy still wasn’t dead! I could hear him breathing, fifty-some-odd plasma burns in his flesh. So I finished him off, you know, slit his throat. He bled out in no time.”
And the story was over. There was no applause; just a general rustling in seats, a change of the hand a head was resting on, nothing more. The boy was obviously embarrassed by the lack of chatter his story had inspired. A flash of annoyance brushed across his face and was gone in an instant.
“Aight,” he said, “if that don’t tickle your gizzards, I’ll get you something good when I get back from my next hunt. I’m headed to the planet Gnath.” This made some heads turn. “Yeah, you heard right. I’m gonna take on the Krodon! And I’m gonna kill it and bring its hide back here for all you ol’ bastards to see.” He began to storm out of the dimly lit room. The other hunter’s in the lodge felt a deep relief that soon enough that boy would be out of their hair for good.
It was at this time that a man who had been standing quietly in the corner made himself known. He stepped in front of the youth and stopped him before he could exit through the sliding door.
“Man,” the boy said, “who the hell are you?”
“My name,” the tall, grim man said bluntly, “is Silas.”
“Well good for you, ol’ boy, but if you don’t mind…” he tried to push his way aside, but Silas took him by his shirt.
“Boy,” the man said, “I don’t want to put a damper on the spirits of a young hunter, that’s never my aim, but I would…heartily… suggest you do not go trying to pick a fight with a Krodon.”
“And why the hell not, old man?”
“Because, boy,” and Silas held him close to his face so he could almost feel the sweat on the young man’s face, “that…monster… will rip you apart. And not only that, but he’ll eat you live and use your spilt blood as sauce; you understand me boy?”
The boy was visibly shaken at the thought, but he shrugged it off and pushed the older man’s hand away. “Screw you, man,” he said, before rushing out without looking back again. The other men had all been watching. They all knew Silas, and they knew when he had something to say, it was probably in their best interest to listen.
“Sorry ol’ boy,” said a soggy gray huntsman, “them young’uns don’t listen, you know how it is.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Silas, his unshaven face cast downward, “the only problem is that I’m going to Gnath tomorrow.”
“Wait, you’re gonna challenge the Krodan? You know the stories that’ve come from that planet.”
“Actually, I don’t think there are any stories.”
“Exactly!” the old man shouted with a whisper. He was serious at first, but his reddened cheeks gave way to a burst of laughter, and soon he fell back into his drink.
Silas groaned, took the drink he hadn’t touched since he came into the lodge, and downed it in one swig. He wiped his mouth and made his way out of the warm, wild looking room, and into the cold, gray star-hub station beyond.
“And there he was, staring me in the face, nothing between us but my super-heated blaster.” He paused dramatically, looking around for any signs of interest from the audience. There were none. “He lunged at me,” the young rogue continued, “and it was a poor choice on his part. ‘Cause I… Yeah I took it to him. Gave him three plasma burns before he could get to me. ‘Course by then he was down and out fighting wise. But the ol’ boy wouldn’t die. Big, hairy monster you know? Nasty thing; big and ugly. But I keppa shootin’ at him, and eventually he went down and looked pretty dead. But you know what? That ol’ boy still wasn’t dead! I could hear him breathing, fifty-some-odd plasma burns in his flesh. So I finished him off, you know, slit his throat. He bled out in no time.”
And the story was over. There was no applause; just a general rustling in seats, a change of the hand a head was resting on, nothing more. The boy was obviously embarrassed by the lack of chatter his story had inspired. A flash of annoyance brushed across his face and was gone in an instant.
“Aight,” he said, “if that don’t tickle your gizzards, I’ll get you something good when I get back from my next hunt. I’m headed to the planet Gnath.” This made some heads turn. “Yeah, you heard right. I’m gonna take on the Krodon! And I’m gonna kill it and bring its hide back here for all you ol’ bastards to see.” He began to storm out of the dimly lit room. The other hunter’s in the lodge felt a deep relief that soon enough that boy would be out of their hair for good.
It was at this time that a man who had been standing quietly in the corner made himself known. He stepped in front of the youth and stopped him before he could exit through the sliding door.
“Man,” the boy said, “who the hell are you?”
“My name,” the tall, grim man said bluntly, “is Silas.”
“Well good for you, ol’ boy, but if you don’t mind…” he tried to push his way aside, but Silas took him by his shirt.
“Boy,” the man said, “I don’t want to put a damper on the spirits of a young hunter, that’s never my aim, but I would…heartily… suggest you do not go trying to pick a fight with a Krodon.”
“And why the hell not, old man?”
“Because, boy,” and Silas held him close to his face so he could almost feel the sweat on the young man’s face, “that…monster… will rip you apart. And not only that, but he’ll eat you live and use your spilt blood as sauce; you understand me boy?”
The boy was visibly shaken at the thought, but he shrugged it off and pushed the older man’s hand away. “Screw you, man,” he said, before rushing out without looking back again. The other men had all been watching. They all knew Silas, and they knew when he had something to say, it was probably in their best interest to listen.
“Sorry ol’ boy,” said a soggy gray huntsman, “them young’uns don’t listen, you know how it is.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Silas, his unshaven face cast downward, “the only problem is that I’m going to Gnath tomorrow.”
“Wait, you’re gonna challenge the Krodan? You know the stories that’ve come from that planet.”
“Actually, I don’t think there are any stories.”
“Exactly!” the old man shouted with a whisper. He was serious at first, but his reddened cheeks gave way to a burst of laughter, and soon he fell back into his drink.
Silas groaned, took the drink he hadn’t touched since he came into the lodge, and downed it in one swig. He wiped his mouth and made his way out of the warm, wild looking room, and into the cold, gray star-hub station beyond.