Bronn
09-04-2008, 06:37 PM
Hey all! This is first of i hope a few stories put together on the life of Bronn in Agon. Hope you enjoy the read:
Blood and darkness. Bronn pants heavily as he wiped the blood off his spear on the cloak of the slain. Peering around he smiles and thinks, 'This is what i was made for'. With a laugh Bronn jumps on the back of the slain hill giant. Nargath was his name, he was a good fight..
"Borbin, you ok? Borbin?"
As Bronn looks around, he hears a mumble and sees his dwarven friend Borbin crawling out from under Nargath's enormous gut.
"Stinks under there lad. *Pfft* That flamin monster near had me he did. I do hope, lad, this bumblin effort was worth it. Now where be that bloody lightfoot? I don't know why we let em come, you know how dey are lad. Snooty as all flamin hell and sneaky to boot. Burn me if he didn't run off with some of that flamin treasure."
Bronn scanned Nargath's lair. 'Mirdain. I should have let him die the bugger. What harm inviting him? He was in the cave with us. He seemed quite useful with those spells of his.' No sight of the tree lover. Walking over to the gigantic chest made of bound tree trunks, Bronn notices that one side is blown out by which looks like fire.
After peering in, Bronn looks at his squat friend.
"Borbin, remember that Mirdain. Lodge him in that thick head of yours. We will find him. He has taken all of it, minus a few gold coins. Must have ran out with it as we were finishing that big bastard."
With a groan followed by a muffled shout, Borbin jumps into the giant chest.
"Flamin hell! That bloody cheatin no good poor excuse for a ....These few coins not be enough lad to pay fer the rents in me armor! Dancin an prancin about...Flamin Mirdain...Never again..Never lad, hear me?"
Bronn only half listening to his little friend as he hears guttural sounds from the cave leading back to the outside.
"Borbin, get out of that box...quick"
As the squat dwarf crawls out of the chest, his head cocks to the side as he hears the sounds too.
"Orcs lad. An more then one if i can still hear. Bloody hell...Now if dey all happened to be flaming Mirdain..."
"Borbin, stand there in the center, in front of Nargath. Quickly, just do it. There is no way out of here cept where they are coming from. You draw them to you and i'll come from behind. We have but one chance at this...stand well my friend."
As Borbin moved to the center of the lair, he planted himself squarely to cave entrance. Shield in hand and wicked axe at the ready..Bronn couldn't help but smile. Borbin is a long-time friend. Stubborn, foul-mouthed to the bone, but a rock to depend on. Borbin was the rock enemies crashed upon. Let's hope its enough this time...
Looking at his stout friend without fear on his face ready as ready could be Bronn thought back when he met Borbin....
'Bronn stood up and whiped the dirt from his grubby clothes. He looked upon Mercia for the last time. Being cast out, with nothing but his wits...He walked away never looking back. Never having money or a family..he had to steal. There was no other way. It was just an apple..just an apple.
Bronn wandered far. Never any direction in particular..what was he to do. North and West he moved...eating barely anything but what he could find...barely staying alive avoiding the camps of kobolds and goblins...life was not easy. He killed what he could and fended off those who would probably eat him, with a spear he had made of ash and stone. It wasn't much, but he learned to use it well. Stealing from the shadows, taking any advantage he could to survive...these became his ways.
After many months, Bronn found himself following food and prey into the mountainous regions...and met his first dwarves. Studying them from the shadows as was his way, he tried to figure out if they were friend or foe. They certaintly seemed kindly. Not one to trust anything anymore, Bronn kept away but close enough to steal what he needed.
Then came the day when he happened to wander to close to what he learned was the dwarven city of Dvergheim. In the darkness of the nearby trees he noticed one surly dwarf running with all his might from the city gates. Arrows rained down from behind as the gates slammed shut. Realizing the little dwarf was running straight toward him, Bronn stepped furthur into the shadows to see what would happen. As the dwarf came close and was in the shelter of the trees he stopped for deep panting breaths.
"Flamin buggers. Who's needs dat bloody city anyways.."
Bronn studied the squat being and decided to throw caution to the wind. Stepping silently up to the dwarf from behind...
"Well met."
For such short legs and a stout body dwarves can jump pretty high.
"Bloody flamin bugger me to .... Lad don't you know never to be sneakin up on a dwarf! I need me a bloody ale to settle my flamin heart." The little dwarf calmed and gazed upon the human studying him through blue eyes that have seen too much. "I assume to me that you be meanin no harm there lad. You probably could have put that there flamin spear through me before i bloody knew it. Now, no need to stare so lad...Borbin be my name..what be yours?"
"I am called Bronn....." '
Snapping back into the present...grunts and foot-steps got louder and louder as Bronn turned and stepped into the shadows next to the cave entrance. He tried to count how many orcs it could be. 'Five? No, Ten?'. Grasping his spear in both hands Bronn crouched at the ready..with a last look at Borbin he thought, 'Stand strong my little friend'
As the orcs rounded the last bend before entering the lair, a guttural roar came from them as they saw Borbin and rushed in. Two at a time, six rows of Orc rushed past Bronn not seeing him and ran straight for Borbin. Twelve!
Borbin waited to the last second as the first two orcs reached him. In a crouch he stood, spinning his squat body, knocking the first orc across the room with his shield while coming down in a viscious arc to cleave the second orc near in two...
Bronn was practically on the heels of the last two orcs as they came out of the cave...with a silent snarl he lept through the air at a run. Spear head facing down, gripped tight in both hands...the last orc took the spear clear through the throat. Such was the force of the attack, the spear carried through into the back of the orc in front of the one he just tore open. Roaring the four orcs closest to the back spun to face the death coming from behind..
Facing four orcs all of a sudden, Bronn took a leap back to gain a moment respite. As one they rushed him. Stepping to one side then leaping back, Bronn brought the spear around in a whirling arc cutting the throat of one of the orcs. Still moving he spun again and brought his spear down and then up through the next orc...into his gut and out his back. He ripped his spear out of his foe and still moving spun to face the last two orcs...
Sneaking a glance at Borbin he saw three orcs in a semi-circle trading blows with his dwarven friend.
Still moving Bronn suddenly felt two horrible stabs of pain and as he looked down he saw two nasty broadhead points sticking out of his chest. As he fell, he saw into the cave entrance, another orc laughing holding a gigantic bow....
Lying half on his side, Bronn looked slowly up as an orc was bringing his black scimitar down with both hands and thought.....'Thirteen, there were Thirteen...'
To be continued.....
Blood and darkness. Bronn pants heavily as he wiped the blood off his spear on the cloak of the slain. Peering around he smiles and thinks, 'This is what i was made for'. With a laugh Bronn jumps on the back of the slain hill giant. Nargath was his name, he was a good fight..
"Borbin, you ok? Borbin?"
As Bronn looks around, he hears a mumble and sees his dwarven friend Borbin crawling out from under Nargath's enormous gut.
"Stinks under there lad. *Pfft* That flamin monster near had me he did. I do hope, lad, this bumblin effort was worth it. Now where be that bloody lightfoot? I don't know why we let em come, you know how dey are lad. Snooty as all flamin hell and sneaky to boot. Burn me if he didn't run off with some of that flamin treasure."
Bronn scanned Nargath's lair. 'Mirdain. I should have let him die the bugger. What harm inviting him? He was in the cave with us. He seemed quite useful with those spells of his.' No sight of the tree lover. Walking over to the gigantic chest made of bound tree trunks, Bronn notices that one side is blown out by which looks like fire.
After peering in, Bronn looks at his squat friend.
"Borbin, remember that Mirdain. Lodge him in that thick head of yours. We will find him. He has taken all of it, minus a few gold coins. Must have ran out with it as we were finishing that big bastard."
With a groan followed by a muffled shout, Borbin jumps into the giant chest.
"Flamin hell! That bloody cheatin no good poor excuse for a ....These few coins not be enough lad to pay fer the rents in me armor! Dancin an prancin about...Flamin Mirdain...Never again..Never lad, hear me?"
Bronn only half listening to his little friend as he hears guttural sounds from the cave leading back to the outside.
"Borbin, get out of that box...quick"
As the squat dwarf crawls out of the chest, his head cocks to the side as he hears the sounds too.
"Orcs lad. An more then one if i can still hear. Bloody hell...Now if dey all happened to be flaming Mirdain..."
"Borbin, stand there in the center, in front of Nargath. Quickly, just do it. There is no way out of here cept where they are coming from. You draw them to you and i'll come from behind. We have but one chance at this...stand well my friend."
As Borbin moved to the center of the lair, he planted himself squarely to cave entrance. Shield in hand and wicked axe at the ready..Bronn couldn't help but smile. Borbin is a long-time friend. Stubborn, foul-mouthed to the bone, but a rock to depend on. Borbin was the rock enemies crashed upon. Let's hope its enough this time...
Looking at his stout friend without fear on his face ready as ready could be Bronn thought back when he met Borbin....
'Bronn stood up and whiped the dirt from his grubby clothes. He looked upon Mercia for the last time. Being cast out, with nothing but his wits...He walked away never looking back. Never having money or a family..he had to steal. There was no other way. It was just an apple..just an apple.
Bronn wandered far. Never any direction in particular..what was he to do. North and West he moved...eating barely anything but what he could find...barely staying alive avoiding the camps of kobolds and goblins...life was not easy. He killed what he could and fended off those who would probably eat him, with a spear he had made of ash and stone. It wasn't much, but he learned to use it well. Stealing from the shadows, taking any advantage he could to survive...these became his ways.
After many months, Bronn found himself following food and prey into the mountainous regions...and met his first dwarves. Studying them from the shadows as was his way, he tried to figure out if they were friend or foe. They certaintly seemed kindly. Not one to trust anything anymore, Bronn kept away but close enough to steal what he needed.
Then came the day when he happened to wander to close to what he learned was the dwarven city of Dvergheim. In the darkness of the nearby trees he noticed one surly dwarf running with all his might from the city gates. Arrows rained down from behind as the gates slammed shut. Realizing the little dwarf was running straight toward him, Bronn stepped furthur into the shadows to see what would happen. As the dwarf came close and was in the shelter of the trees he stopped for deep panting breaths.
"Flamin buggers. Who's needs dat bloody city anyways.."
Bronn studied the squat being and decided to throw caution to the wind. Stepping silently up to the dwarf from behind...
"Well met."
For such short legs and a stout body dwarves can jump pretty high.
"Bloody flamin bugger me to .... Lad don't you know never to be sneakin up on a dwarf! I need me a bloody ale to settle my flamin heart." The little dwarf calmed and gazed upon the human studying him through blue eyes that have seen too much. "I assume to me that you be meanin no harm there lad. You probably could have put that there flamin spear through me before i bloody knew it. Now, no need to stare so lad...Borbin be my name..what be yours?"
"I am called Bronn....." '
Snapping back into the present...grunts and foot-steps got louder and louder as Bronn turned and stepped into the shadows next to the cave entrance. He tried to count how many orcs it could be. 'Five? No, Ten?'. Grasping his spear in both hands Bronn crouched at the ready..with a last look at Borbin he thought, 'Stand strong my little friend'
As the orcs rounded the last bend before entering the lair, a guttural roar came from them as they saw Borbin and rushed in. Two at a time, six rows of Orc rushed past Bronn not seeing him and ran straight for Borbin. Twelve!
Borbin waited to the last second as the first two orcs reached him. In a crouch he stood, spinning his squat body, knocking the first orc across the room with his shield while coming down in a viscious arc to cleave the second orc near in two...
Bronn was practically on the heels of the last two orcs as they came out of the cave...with a silent snarl he lept through the air at a run. Spear head facing down, gripped tight in both hands...the last orc took the spear clear through the throat. Such was the force of the attack, the spear carried through into the back of the orc in front of the one he just tore open. Roaring the four orcs closest to the back spun to face the death coming from behind..
Facing four orcs all of a sudden, Bronn took a leap back to gain a moment respite. As one they rushed him. Stepping to one side then leaping back, Bronn brought the spear around in a whirling arc cutting the throat of one of the orcs. Still moving he spun again and brought his spear down and then up through the next orc...into his gut and out his back. He ripped his spear out of his foe and still moving spun to face the last two orcs...
Sneaking a glance at Borbin he saw three orcs in a semi-circle trading blows with his dwarven friend.
Still moving Bronn suddenly felt two horrible stabs of pain and as he looked down he saw two nasty broadhead points sticking out of his chest. As he fell, he saw into the cave entrance, another orc laughing holding a gigantic bow....
Lying half on his side, Bronn looked slowly up as an orc was bringing his black scimitar down with both hands and thought.....'Thirteen, there were Thirteen...'
To be continued.....