Baron Boon the Buff and the Fiddle of Fitness

[comradechris]

Hi Folks,

One fine day I decided that I should write an adventure story with characters based on some friends that I hang out with in real life, matching their actual personalities to suitable classes and stereotypes in the adventuring profession.

Here's the teaser ad

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From the creator of Twinkles comes an epic tale of high adventure! A grand saga of friendships formed and tested, of heroic deeds of derring-do, of love and betrayal, loss and hope.

Our brave group comprise of the following adventuring souls (in alphabetical order):

Baron Boon the Buff, a pugilist noble who rules over his barony with benevolence, guiding his subjects upon the path of enlightenment through fitness.

Comrade Chris, a spy of a once great empire. A selfless but unfeeling individual, he roams the world, looking out for others like himself and the chance to resurrect his old country.

Eugene the Enigmatic. Not much is known about this mysterious sorcerer from afar, except that his strange and fancy magics are matched only by his stylish and flambouyant clothes.

Herng the Hungry. A master tactician who once led a group of mercenaries, who have since retired to a more mundane lifestyle, he still seeks adventure to sate his desire for excitement, food and women.

Julian the Just, a ranger from the northern woodlands. A beacon of justice in the wilderness, he stands ready to come to the aid of any animal or traveler that is unjustly threatened in his domain. Always at his side is trusty animal companion, Sparky!

Kecheng the Kind, a devout cleric of a benevolent god, who travels the land to alleviate its widespread suffering. Beneath his shy and reserved appearance lies a heart larger than the world upon which he walks.

Lim the Loud, champion of many jousts and bar fights. This foul mouthed warrior spews forth vulgarities in frustration as he searches for a true challenge because in his eyes, the world is full of wussies!

Stay tuned friends, for… Baron Boon the Buff and the Fiddle of Fitness!!

[comradechris]

Hi Folks!

A new chapter for my story, which will start with a chapter introducing each of the main protagonists.

Here's one of them!

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The Spy


She could not contain her excitement as she made her way back to the orphanage. The thought that her charges could have a better living environment and facilities was enough to add skips to her steps that made it look like she was flying instead of walking. As she made her way along the cobblestone walkway, her mind thought about the kind stranger who made the generous donation. Although he did not speak much, he seemed genuine and did not want anything in return, a far cry from the usual charlatans who would offer donations, with strings attached.

Both her journey and her thoughts were interrupted as grubby hands grabbed her from behind. One hand over her mouth muffled her screams, while the other, around her waist, dragged her into an alley. Pinning her against the wall, her attacker released his hand from her waist and began to wander around, finally lifting her coin purse.

“Ah, there we are,” said her attacker. “Hmm, feels like the whole lot. The fool didn’t keep any for himself! All the better for me then! And it looks like I’ve got a bonus today as well.” His free hand starts to feel her up.

She sobs and tries to struggle, only to receive a jab in her side, winding her.

“Shhhhh, don’t fight it girl. It won’t hurt so much that way.” Her attacker turns her around, one hand still on her mouth. “Hey, I know you. You’re the girl who runs the orphanage. You should be happy then, girly. When I’m done with you, all the little boys and girls will have a new playmate joining them!”

She tries to shake her head free, to scream, but is held fast.

“Release the female,” says a new voice, cold and determined.

The presence of the new individual startles her attacker, and his grip loosens. She breaks free and runs to the new figure, thanking him. She recognises him. It is her benefactor. He ignores her, his gaze fixed squarely on her attacker.

“You have voided our transaction. Return her gold, or return my medal.”

“Listen to you, you crazy piece of shit,” snorts her attacker. “You really think you’re one of them then? A dead culture! Alright then, I’ll help you join ‘em!”

Her attacker whips out a dagger and rushes her benefactor.

Her benefactor glances at her for a split second and whispers “go”, pushing her gently out of the way. He brings up his own weapons to meet the attacker.

He brings up his right hand, and a hammer easily blocks the attacker’s dagger. He makes no move to attack yet, testing the attacker, who desperately tries to stab him. With ease he dodges or deflects the dagger’s thrusts with his hammer.

Having gauged his opponent’s skill, the benefactor begins his offensive. He sees where the next thrust will come from, and makes a thrust of his own. His hammerhead meets the attacker’s dagger, and the impact jars his opponent, who winces as his wrist is numbed. Seizing the advantage, the benefactor flicks his hammer against the attacker’s fingers, disarming him as the dagger falls from useless digits.

He lunges forward, bringing up his left hand, wielding a sickle, tip down. The sickle goes smoothly between the attacker’s legs. He twists the sickle such that it is parallel to the ground and pulls. His opponent screams as the maneuver hamstrings one of his legs, bringing him to one knee.

The benefactor brings his hammer to the other knee, and disables his opponent. With the attacker on his knees, the benefactor places the sickle around his neck, and moves behind him. He crosses the hammer and sickle, with the head resting on the side of the attacker’s face.

“Please, please!! Mercy!” begs the attacker.

“You, who would not show mercy, dare to ask for it?”

“H..hey! Just trying to make a living, you kn.. know!” stutters the attacker. Desperate, he makes a plea, “T… tell you what! I’ll cut you a d… deal! Seventy – thirty, your favour!”

The benefactor frowns. “You have voided our prior transaction. What makes you think your word holds weight in my eyes? Your ill gotten gold means nothing to me, word breaker scum. By the power vested in me by the People…”

The attacker closes his eyes and begins to wet his pants. “You sanctimonious piece of sh…”

The hammer and sickle are pulled apart, and silence fills the alley.




In an old, run-down orphanage, a young lady is sobbing quietly in her room. She sent the children to bed early so they would not see her tears. She had thought to use the donation to do up the place, get newer beds, warmer blankets and thicker winter clothes for the children. All those hopes were dashed today, in that alley, when her donation was stolen, and with it, all her hopes for a better life for her charges.

“Miss,” says a gentle voice. “I believe this is yours.”

She looks up, slightly startled, and sees a figure holding up her coin purse. She angles the lamp to have a better look at the figure. It is her benefactor.

“Oh, my Lord,” she quickly tries to wipe her tears away and stands up to curtsey but is stopped when he steps forward to put her purse in her hands.

“Please Miss, no titles, no acts of reverence. They are not something I practice.” He places a hand on her shoulder, and bids her take her seat again. She looks up and asks about the alley and her attacker, to which he puts a finger to his lips and shakes his head.

“How do I thank you, my L… good man? You have saved us twice this day.”

“Keep true to your word. What you have told me, the things that you would do for these children. That is all I ask.” He replies, looking into her eyes as though hunting for signs of deceit.

She tries to reply but he puts his finger to her lips.

“I can see from your eyes, and the tears you shed, that you will do as you say. It is a noble deed you do, the caring for those who are not cared for. Teaching and guiding them. For all that you have done, and are about to do, I give you this.” He places something in her hands and turns to walk away. She looks at it. It is a small object, a five pointed gold star with a red ribbon on top.

“What is it?”

Her benefactor stops by the window and replies, “It is my medal. It is how I got the gold for your donation. Since the transaction is void, I have taken the liberty to retrieve my property. As it was presented to me for my deeds in contributing to the People, I now present it to you.”

She places her hand to her mouth, shocked at his charity. She looks at it again, and wonders how painful it must be, for him to have parted with this, not once, but twice for her orphanage.

She looks up and asks, “What do I call it?” But it is too late, her benefactor is gone.

She goes to the window and looks outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but he is gone. As she turns away from the window, a gentle breeze blows, carrying with it the answer to her question.

“Hero of the Soviet Union.”