MRPolo13
The Arbiter of the Gods
This series of stories are mature and neither I, nor the server, take any responsibility for insult you may take from it, since you have read this warning. Violent and sexual content may and will likely occur, therefore I request that if you feel you do not wish to read something on the lines of, looking for better example, Game of Thrones, you do not read these stories, especially following a warning I will disclose when things start getting ugly.
To quote George RR Martin, author of Game of Thrones;
"I can describe an axe entering a human skull in great explicit detail and no one will blink twice at it. I provide a similar description, just as detailed, of a penis entering a vagina, and I get letters about it and people swearing off. To my mind this is kind of frustrating, it’s madness. Ultimately, in the history of [the] world, penises entering vaginas have given a lot of people a lot of pleasure; axes entering skulls, well, not so much."
While my aim is not to write in half as much detail, be aware that this whole warning has its reason. The story will get ugly, you have been warned.
In My Mother's House
I was sitting outside in the back garden. We had a big house. One of the biggest in Port Silver. I sometimes wondered if the king himself had a smaller house. Probably.
From inside there was a pleased sound of my dearest mummy. She was a good person. She was always so happy before Uncle came by, but I wondered why she'd cry whenever he left.
This time was the same. Uncle left after couple of hours and I entered the house again from the back - I wasn't allowed to see Uncle. Dearest mummy said that Uncle was a nice man, but that I couldn't meet him. She said it was better for me that way. Weird, because uncle always made dearest mummy cry.
One day I asked if I should beat Uncle up, since he made mummy cry all the time. She smiled through her tears, then hugged me, saying that she didn't cry because of him. I didn't ask after that. I concluded that adults are strange.
"Mummy?" I peeked inside, as I had the tendency to do. She looked at me and smiled lightly, her eyes red from tears, which made small craters in her make-up. She gestured for me to come closer and I ran up to hug her. She kissed my forehead and I could smell the perfume she wore. I remember that perfume, it smelt nice, of wild forests in a summer.
"There you are, my little demon," she said and smiled slightly wider. "How are your friends?"
"They are fine mummy. Jack said he wants to run his own inn, like the big one in ugly district," I giggled at the concept of Fat Jack selling beer. "And I learnt a new word!"
"Oh?" She looked at me curiously, the signs of crying gone.
"Yes. It's- uhh... Isolation!" I smiled proudly, then like a machine I repeated the meaning. "It means staying away from everyone and everything."
Mummy smiled, although with clear sadness in eyes, and hugged me tighter.
The next days followed as normal. That was until mummy fell ill.
A lot of doctors came to see her, to help her, but nothing worked. She was plagued is what one of the doctors said. They'd find a magical specialist. I was really excited about meeting a wizard, but also quite scared about mummy. She said she was fine, but her cheekbones showed more than before and she was pale. Her usually beautiful light blue eyes were now surrounded by a sea of yellow and red, and her perfect black hair was littered with white strands.
The last thing she said was "Be strong, my son, be strong... You'll be the greatest one day."
She died after four days, in complete agony. I closed myself to the world. She was the only world I had. Mummy loved me and I loved her. I stayed in her room and didn't eat or drink for the whole of first day. The second day I was forced to drink by the doctor who stayed with me. I was a big boy, but not big enough to watch her die... The third day a man came.
It was the biggest, most muscly man I ever saw. He stood as tall as a mountain, at least to what I thought was a mountain back then. He wore a rich, dark green robe with red finishing and a small black hawk made of leather stitched onto the silk. He smiled, small wrinkles of laughter appearing around his penetrative brown eyes. The dark brown hair was neatly cut, as was the trimmed beard that surrounded his mouth but not his cheeks. I couldn't help but notice a huge to me sword hanging by his side. I saw weapons before, but never so beautiful.
"You must be Albareth..." the man said.
To quote George RR Martin, author of Game of Thrones;
"I can describe an axe entering a human skull in great explicit detail and no one will blink twice at it. I provide a similar description, just as detailed, of a penis entering a vagina, and I get letters about it and people swearing off. To my mind this is kind of frustrating, it’s madness. Ultimately, in the history of [the] world, penises entering vaginas have given a lot of people a lot of pleasure; axes entering skulls, well, not so much."
While my aim is not to write in half as much detail, be aware that this whole warning has its reason. The story will get ugly, you have been warned.
In My Mother's House
I was sitting outside in the back garden. We had a big house. One of the biggest in Port Silver. I sometimes wondered if the king himself had a smaller house. Probably.
From inside there was a pleased sound of my dearest mummy. She was a good person. She was always so happy before Uncle came by, but I wondered why she'd cry whenever he left.
This time was the same. Uncle left after couple of hours and I entered the house again from the back - I wasn't allowed to see Uncle. Dearest mummy said that Uncle was a nice man, but that I couldn't meet him. She said it was better for me that way. Weird, because uncle always made dearest mummy cry.
One day I asked if I should beat Uncle up, since he made mummy cry all the time. She smiled through her tears, then hugged me, saying that she didn't cry because of him. I didn't ask after that. I concluded that adults are strange.
"Mummy?" I peeked inside, as I had the tendency to do. She looked at me and smiled lightly, her eyes red from tears, which made small craters in her make-up. She gestured for me to come closer and I ran up to hug her. She kissed my forehead and I could smell the perfume she wore. I remember that perfume, it smelt nice, of wild forests in a summer.
"There you are, my little demon," she said and smiled slightly wider. "How are your friends?"
"They are fine mummy. Jack said he wants to run his own inn, like the big one in ugly district," I giggled at the concept of Fat Jack selling beer. "And I learnt a new word!"
"Oh?" She looked at me curiously, the signs of crying gone.
"Yes. It's- uhh... Isolation!" I smiled proudly, then like a machine I repeated the meaning. "It means staying away from everyone and everything."
Mummy smiled, although with clear sadness in eyes, and hugged me tighter.
The next days followed as normal. That was until mummy fell ill.
A lot of doctors came to see her, to help her, but nothing worked. She was plagued is what one of the doctors said. They'd find a magical specialist. I was really excited about meeting a wizard, but also quite scared about mummy. She said she was fine, but her cheekbones showed more than before and she was pale. Her usually beautiful light blue eyes were now surrounded by a sea of yellow and red, and her perfect black hair was littered with white strands.
The last thing she said was "Be strong, my son, be strong... You'll be the greatest one day."
She died after four days, in complete agony. I closed myself to the world. She was the only world I had. Mummy loved me and I loved her. I stayed in her room and didn't eat or drink for the whole of first day. The second day I was forced to drink by the doctor who stayed with me. I was a big boy, but not big enough to watch her die... The third day a man came.
It was the biggest, most muscly man I ever saw. He stood as tall as a mountain, at least to what I thought was a mountain back then. He wore a rich, dark green robe with red finishing and a small black hawk made of leather stitched onto the silk. He smiled, small wrinkles of laughter appearing around his penetrative brown eyes. The dark brown hair was neatly cut, as was the trimmed beard that surrounded his mouth but not his cheeks. I couldn't help but notice a huge to me sword hanging by his side. I saw weapons before, but never so beautiful.
"You must be Albareth..." the man said.
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