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Merci d'Rue · Babbling Loony Joined: 18 Jan 2006 Posts: 2810

Merci was in the mood for merriment this eve and odd thing for her to seek out. She rarely graced the tavern walls her battle minded head not allowing such frivolity. Yet there comes a time in every maids life, when filled with angst and frustration leads them to search out a bit of fun and relaxation. I suppose it was this that led her there this eve. She was disturbed about her mate, Keldril Kil'ana had certainly been missing, which he did often, however this time it felt quite wrong. Merci had strong instincts upon these things, and never worried without just cause. She had always allowed him to roam to his hearts content loving what he was, allowing him his freedoms. Never binding him...Yet this time was different she did not feel that he was upon one of his ussual adventures, she felt surely that some peril had occurred or awaited him.

Pushing these ominous thoughts aside she began to sip upon the wine, speaking warmly with Ceinwyn and noticing the new faces as they entered the tavern. A woman named Sara entered the tavern and she took notice for she was a stranger, and dressed rather brightly. Soon it was certain she was not an Umbran as she felt their ways a bit odd. Not long after this she met a new and most welcome subject, Ceinwyn introducing him, as Urgh.

However should one describe Urgh? He was the flora and fauna of Umbra. He was the very symbol of its humanity. Urgh was, quite frankly a rotting corpse. Yet he was better than yesterday, she was told as Ceinwyn had bandaged him nicely. She could see how fond Ceinwyn was over the creature as she casually from time to time would adjust a bandage. Merci watched with curious eyes and even she felt an unexplicable pull to the Corpse. Becoming fond of his groans of hunger, his slamming of viles of blood down, like shots of Whiskey, and his somewhat rudimentary charm. The creature was sentient and able to gurgle, what a great accomplishment in a rotting corpse.

He carried an axe which he stowed away as Merci offered him a bit of the severed head she was saving for her Swamp Dragon. Sadly, it was not living meat which she was told he preferred, and she felt a hole in herself for not being able to provide it.

Urgh, the Hungry Corpse, no sooner saw Sara, the traveler who had wandered into Umbra, than he fell in what appeared to be, love, for the woman. Perhaps it was her soft edible living flesh, her eyes that beckoned to him, or her beautiful nose that hinted at exceptional taste. He tried valliantly to woo her, by first granting the Lovely Sara with a vomit upon her shoes. Now, not many know this but if a Corpse is feeling affectionate, it is a high honor to have one vomit upon your feet. In fact I strongly advise, you not even remove it, as you may hurt their fragile and tender feelings. Yet Sara could not see past the peices of body parts and bones within his vomit and rebuffed her young suitor, wait I mean rather old quite old I would imagine.

How he persued her, and with every groan, shriek and pawing touch, he was rebuffed by this stoic maid. Yet he came up with at last a clever idea a wondrous idea that Merci felt even her cold self melt just a tad at the sight of the wondrous flower he produced for beautiful Sara. Aaah but this love was not to be, and at last the corpse accepted cruel fate, that he was never to hold his beloved in his arms and perhaps bite off her nose, or chew on her lips. With that he removed himself slumped in a chair.

The evening passed, Merci watching with admiration of this Corpse, Urgh, and found that as the night continued on he fascinated her with each groan. Finally the hour came upon which it was made known that it was Willow, the Warlords, Birthday and Merci deigned to give her a gift from herself and the Warmaster. Many came and drank and made Merry bearing gifts for the beloved warlord. Yet no gift could compare with Urgh's. Shining like a beacon of beauty, he stood before the warlord and gurgled her a tune, the rasping hashing song which many beleived to be a rendition not yet known of Happy Birthday. Then he enveloped dear Willow, in a corpsy hug of stench and happiness, amidst the cheers and aplause for his beautiful serenade.

As a reward the Umbrans took thieir corpsy friend, and to celebrate Willows wondrous birthday, they arrived at the local brigand camp where they indulged in a round of slaying. The Corpse of course, indulged in a round of engorging on the flesh of these injured brigands happily chewing on noses and vomiting up their clothing and shoes.

So our evening draws to a close as they returned to the tavern happiness ringing in their laughter, and the corpses stomach full for now. Merci knew as she looked upon the corpse that she new Quality when she viewed it...
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May destiny guide you...

Sara Delan · Sage Joined: 08 Jan 2008 Posts: 579

Sara clomped up the stairs of her home, grumbling softly to herself. "Why am I always the lucky one? You'd think a corpse with a gaping head wound would be able to get something through his head."

By the time she got upstairs, her grumbling had reached new depths. She sat down and pulled off her boots, still dripping with who-knows-what. Holding them with an extended arm and her head turned away, she dropped them in the trash barrel. She gave a half-frown, "I liked those boots." A heavy sigh and Sara walked barefoot back to the stairs. She'd go to town and find a new pair.

Before she got to the steps, however, she slipped on the horrid, mucousy vomit left by her angered tromping. Her feet slipped out from under her and she fell on her back, hard. Her tough attitude wouldn't let her show pain, even to no one but herself. A slight grimace is all she showed of the pain. Tough as she was, she couldn't stand against what she found she had fallen in. Her entire backside was covered in the vomit.

She didn't stand up, she didn't scream, she didn't do anything. She was frozen, excepting a slight twitch every few seconds. Suddenly and all at once, she screamed at the top of her lungs and practically ripped the clothes off her body. She ran outside and rolled around in the grass, in an attempt to cleanse herself. Finally, after nearly an hour of rolling and scraping, Sara seemed sure she was free of the awful mess.

Standing naked in the jungle, Sara realized she didn't have any spare clothes. Maybe she had some old clothes stuffed away in some crate. She walked back inside and upstairs, careful to avoid any and all of the filth. Pulling out boxes she hadn't opened in years, she found an old set of clothes. She looked at them in disgust. "A skirt?" Sara detested skirts and dresses. But, with a heavy sigh, she slid on the skirt and the shirt that was packaged with it. "Why am I always the lucky one?"