Forums » Writing Workshop » Read Thread

Student trudged to the mountaintop, knowing that The Master would be atop it. Perhaps it was true, The Master was indeed a shitty guess of things, and he had lost more battles than he had won, but The Master knew all 25 of the Great Styles. Longquan, Houziquan, Haimianquan, every form and function of South-Cystian Kung Fu, from the 3 elements to the 9 animals, from the 3 sacred weapons to the 3 household objects, from the very forces of nature down to the Three Eternal Fists: Rock, Paper, and Scissors.

The Green-Clad student was undaunted by this, though. He was a very lucky person, and a master of Kung Fu. He knew how to strategize. He knew how to play the mind games, how to pick his battles, and how to wager his points. The Lucky Dueller Belt would be his in time, and he needed only to prove his mettle against the shittiest of Kung Fu Duelists over and over again... At last, breath stinging his throat and smoking in the snow-filled air as he reached the monastery at the top of the mountain, he pushed the door open to confront The Master. He was confronted with the smell of absolutely immaculate, warm sandwiches.

"The fook was that!?" A loud, familiar brogue echoed off the walls as he noticed the door's sound.

"Does... Does it really have to interrupt this? Can we not just deal with it later?" said a woman's voice, as if coming down from a particularly sultry state to a one of mild dissappointment.

"Remember our policy, Angela. We can'ae go Full-Deviantart where other people can see or hear us. We're classy characters."

"I guess... Chivalry sucks."

"I'll be right back. It's prubly just a Jehova's Witness. Can't escape from 'em, not even up here."

The Penguinite fellow, donning only pants and an apron, was quite dissappointed to see that what confronted him was not someone so dismissable as a Jehova's Witness.

"Name an' business, Anime kid!"

"My name is Seto. I've come to test my Kung Fu."

"To the death, right? Please tell me it's to the death..."

"No. I challenge you to a Duel of Chance. One style, one round, the first to land a strike wins."

"Can I use Smachtrehgga?"

"No, only the 25 South Cystian Kung Fu styles!... And no 'tactical moveset editions' either, or whatever you did that one time. Just the Kata out of the old treatises! Strengths vs weaknesses that cannot be changed! Come on, this can't be the first time you've done this..."

"Shit, I always lose that kind of duel, unless it's against some noob... How much do you wager?"

"5 Golden Frijoles."

The Master was shocked. That was the highest amount of Frijoles that it was legally permissable to bet on a thing this stupid and specific! This green stranger was confident in his duelling capabilities...

"And why should I accept this duel?" the Scotsbird growled, folding his arms.

"Because not many suns ago..." The Student's fists clenched at the bitter memory, "You insulted my honor by calling me a smol, pretty, baby-man... It has brought great dishonor on my household and everyone I know has disowned me. Even my kitten and goldfish. By defeating you in a duel, I will once and for all restore my dignity and my place in the world!"

"That's fuhckin' stupid. What is this, Feudal China!?"

"Yes! It is, now shut up and let the story progress!"

"Okay, fine, sure. Counta three."

"One!"

"Two!"

"THREE!"

Seto took  on a fluid, slithering stance and bared his nails like claws as he engaged in Longquan, the Dragon Fist. He was all too pleased to see that Silas had not moved an inch from where he was. Rock Fist had no guard against the Dragon, which he was undoubtedly trying to emulate... But wait, no, Seto had recognized the form the instant he got a better look at it. Sentinel was standing tall, a stance most unlike Yanquan, and glaring silently at the approaching attacker. In fact, if Seto weren't mistaken, he could've sworn he was using...

No, it couldn't be... Of all the things to use...

Tree Kung-fu.

Tree covers Dragon!

There was only one way for Dragon to stand a chance, and that was to tire him out and trick him into making a mistake. But Silas was far too tall for the smol green student to outrun him, and Silas knew all too well the tricks of Cystian Kung-Fu. With a single deft movement, for which the Dragon's Kata had no right defense, a mighty arm swung like a fallen branch and landed heavily on Seto's shoulder, knocking him to the ground. 

"Landed the first strike. Pay up!"

"Another duel!" Seto shouted, angrily.

"I refuse. Gimme the frijoles and get out of my house!"

"Fine..." Seto tossed a bag of 10 frijoles at Sentinel's feet, "You may take five out of the bag, or you may have all of them if you beat me in the next duel..."

"Oh, fuck you! You know, I'm a busy man! I have a wife that I like having sandwiches with!"

"ONE MORE DUEL!"

"Fine..."

"One!"

"Two..."

"Three!"

Seto reached into his jacket and gripped the handle of his gun, ready to spatter the Penguin furry's brains across the floor, but before he could draw, a strike, fast as lightning, a shock to his system, a powerful blow to his solar plexus, and he was suddenly looking at the underside of the Penguinite's fist, cold stone floor against the back of his head. Struggling to breathe, Seto made the harrowing climb to his knees, he would have shouted something hurtful if his diaphragm weren't having spasms, but all he could do was glower up at him.

"Lightning melts Gun. Now get outta my house!"

"M-my... My honor..." Wheezed the boy in green, wobbling around on his knees.

"Look, kid. I dunnae why everyone apparently gives you so much shit about whether you defended your honor or whatever bullfuck when I said you were a smol baby-man. You lost a sport. Go home and tell everyone you fought with me and survived, I'm sure they'll forgive ye."

"But... We only duelled..."

"Nobody's gotta know that. Now give me some fookin' privacy, right? I'll have to re-heat the sandwiches at this rate!"

6 days ago, a lone onna-bugeisha rode into battle from one side, singlehandedly flanking an entire spearline and saving her Shogun from a humiliating defeat. She disappeared just as quickly as she had arrived, and left the General searching for hours trying to find who it was so that she could be promoted for her efforts... And eventually, he did.

"Mayana-Kun," the General said, "You have saved entire formations of men today. I swear by all things, I will reward you with anything reasonable."

Mayana sat in deep thought for a moment, before answering, "I should like to retire to the mansion of Gorudoyogore, to read and write multiple-choice adventure stories."

The Shogun's eyes widened nervously. He had earlier promised that land to one of his sons! But alas, an oath was an oath... There had to be some way to work this out.

"I will give it to you," The Shogun said, "If you can protect it from any harm for one week!"

"Sure. How many guards can I bring with me?"

"Erm... Only you..." The Shogun bit his lip, feeling like a bit of an asshole.

"Okie dokie!" Mayana said, picking up her sword and skipping merrily away to Gorudoyogore.

And so, for 6 days, she had the villagers repair their homes to protect them from the weather. For 6 days, she hired builders to fence off the crop fields to keep the livestock from getting in. For 6 days, she hired doctors to make sure nobody was harmed by plague, and for 6 days, she stood at the front gates of the village. Waiting. Daring. It was high noon on the seventh day when Mayana was finally met with an intruder.

"Who goes there?" Mayana asked at the sound of a heavy footfall.

"I'm Sentinel. Jus' passin' through." A man's voice said.

He put all the emphasis on the wrong syllables, and bent every one of his vowels. He most certainly didn't fit into this culture or time period very well. Who hired this actor!?

"Sentinel who?" She could have sworn she heard a scabbard shaking on the belt of this traveller as he moved. From the rattling, he might have been wearing armor. Only troublemakers walk alone into villages wearing armor!

"Sentinel, blade of the great Aman-Dono?"

"What are you doing so far away from the Bountyhead Province?"

"I, uh, I'm currently no longer employed by the great Aman-Dono, but I do like how the title goes on my resume..."

"You're a ronin!?" 

"I don'e know! We just sort of went on different paths after the war! I'd like to think it's more honorable than that!"

A ronin, just as she had feared... Never had she truly encountered such a dishonorable sort of bandit before!

"Ronin, my guts will line this road before I let you harm my village!" She grabbed her sword and held it in a reverse-grip, drawing a line in the gravel in front of her.

"Really!? Is this how it's gonna be!?"

"I swore I would keep my village from any harm for 7 days, so if a sketchy ronin thinks he's gonna just waltz in here and cause trouble, he'll have to go through me!"

"Fine..." 

She heard him draw and move forward, but she swished her sword dangerously in front of her. She could hear him stepping back into a more defensive position.

"If you have any honor left in you, Ronin, you will fight me in a fair duel! One strike each! Choose your technique wisely!"

"Do we have tae do this!? Why does everyone keep duelling me!?"

"What're you talking about!?"

"Let's just get this shit over with..."

"Sure."

Sentinel calmy raised his sword over his head, prepared to cleave her in half with the mighty Axe strike, while Mayana stood still and silent, her icepick-like grip on the sword remaining. He began to run toward her. She still stood absolutely still. He barked his Kiai prematurely, and she... Turned around? What nonsense was this? Why would she turn her back on him in the middle of a sword duel!? With an incredulous laugh, he brought his sword down toward her... And stopped midway, his hands going limp and dropping the blade to the ground.

"Oww... What the fuck!?"

Mayana had ducked too far down to have been cut by the overhead axe. Bent forward, she merely thrust her sword out behind her and impaled the birdman.

Pulling himself and his bowels off of the blade, he fell on his side, "What the fuck kind of technique was that!?"

"Dragon's Tail strike."

The Penguinite slapped his forehead with exasperation. Of course Dragon was immune to Axe...

"Can I... Can I just pay a toll or something!?"

"Sure. Five Frijoles."

"Yeah, yeah. Fine, whatever..." The Ronin said, tossing a small bag at her feet and trying to scoop blood back into his gaping wound, "Are there any doctors in this village?"

Side Note: Yes, I did make Mayana fight like Zatoichi. If that's blind-ist, then my feelings will be equally hurt.

At the heart of the boomtown of Goldsand was the mine. To the left of that was the saloon. And at the heart of that saloon, was, well, a table. Dusty old mahogany thing made in England and brought in from Massacheusetts. How exactly it wound up under a bunch of raggedy card decks with 5-too-many aces, 500-too-many chips, and 3 too many drinks was an entirely different question.

"What brings ya 'round these parts?" Zag said, dealing out cards to him and the other ruffians at the table with a flourish.

"Angela sehnt meh te pick up semmahr beyken... We used it ull up jest recen'ly." Slurred the Scotsbird, gulping out of his mug.

"Again?... How many sandwiches do you make!?"

"Ain't yoo a li-ul yung t'be talkin' aboat sanwiches? It's verr pahrsanol what ah do in me-yoan 'oose, right!" He dozed off, but his head shot back up when it touched the table.

"I guess, but... Why're you sittin' here drinkin' an' gamblin' instead of, y'know, buyin' groceries?"

"Deputy Mayana practic'ly robbed meh when ah shooed up at the gate... Only brutt fiyve frijoles withmeh..." He gripped the red stain on his bandaged side spitefully. She was mean with a knife.

"Ah, I get it." 

At that moment, all the ruffians at the table had their hole cards, and Zag eagerly laid his flop down all over the table. The players looked carefully at the flop, to see how well it fit in their holes. Now, if you know poker banter, this probably doesn't sound as much like coprophiliac innuendo as it does to the outsider, but to Sentinel, it may as well have been. The amount of straight wood alcohol in this motor oil moonshine he had been drinking had rendered his cards both doubled, illegible, and green around the edges. Nonetheless, he shoved several chips forward. It looked like he had 4 of a kind in his left hands, anyway.

Everyone else laid their chips out. One raised. When the cycle of raising had ended, Zag put another card on the table. There was some murmuring, but nothing else. Sentinel made some concurring but incomprehensible Scottish noises to keep up the conversation, before continuing to drink his Instant Alcohol Poisoning. ["Just add water!"tm] He wondered why he had ordered a mug rather than a shot glass, but quickly stopped wondering when the next flop arrived. The guys were incredulous.

"Well, it looks like EVERYONE gets straight aces this time around, guys!"

Sentinel's eyes widened at the good news. He would've spat out his drink if that wouldn't have spread the burning sensation to the roof of his mouth. Quickly, he laid down his bet and let the others try to keep up. It wasn't long before Zag laid down the final card, the river, and the cries of astonishment followed.

"WHAT!? THAT'S FIVE ACES!" yelled someone, slamming their fist on the table.

Sentinel went all-in. The others followed, more out of similarly drunken instinct than genuinely being of the mind to do so...

The real outrage came when everyone revealed their hands. When he threw them at the table, it was just his absurd luck that they landed far enough apart to have aligned with his crossed pupils. He soon discovered that he had hi very own ace of spades!... Well, in all actuality, it was two aces of spades, but Sentinel only saw visions.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" shouted one angry gambler.

"HOW DID HE GET MY ACE!? I CHEATED THAT ONE IN!" shouted another.

"THIS DEALER IS A SHARK IF I EVER SAW ONE!" Shouted Zag, gravely unaware of his current circumstances.

"Frrkin'.... Sixxuvvakinnd! Givvmeyurmunnay..." Shouted Sentinel, wanting his winnings.

The other players started making angry noises at each other. Sentinel tried very hard to swear at them, but found that none of them seemed to understand what he was saying.

"YOU'RE ALL CHEATS! I WANT MY MONEY BACK!" The first gambler said,

"Fookin'... Givmunny..." Sentinel said.

"YOU ONLY PUT IN CHIPS, NOT MONEY, YOU SWINDLER!" Said the second gambler.

"Munneh... Give... Fookin'..." Sentinel

"LET'S TRY TO FIND A QUIET WAY TO RESOLVE OUR PREDICAMENT!" Zag said.

"GIVE FUCK MONEY!" Sentinel angrily grabbed his chair and beat the second gambler over the head.

A brawl ensued, but luckily for Mayana, she heard the commotion going on before anything demotion-worthy could happen in her new town.

"Oi! Sentinel! Discharged grenadier for General Aman!? I knew a Desperado like you would cause trouble!"

"Bullshite..." Sentinel said, woozily pulling his head up and spitting out the tip of one of the gambler's ears, "Aye ulmust naever cuhz trubble..."

Mayana heard something wet and fleshy hit the ground. Ich... She'd have to hide that villager before the state police superintendant arrived.

"Look, you can all settle your differences," the Deputy scowled, "But I want this taken outside and handled in a civilized manner... WITH A LEGALLY SANCTIONED DUEL!"

"I CHALLENJ THESS MUTHARFUCKAR!" shouted the birdman angrily, pointing at Zag, "HE'S NUT GIVEN MEH MAH MUNNEH!"

"I barely had anything to do with this!" said Zaghero, flusteredly.

"This is the wild west, Zag-Chan," Mayana said, matter-of-factly, "If you can beat him in a supervised duel, you're in the right. Now hurry up, I'm not allowed to have any unexpected fatalities before the Texas State Superintendant shows up to make me sherriff!"

And so the two buckaroos stood at the center of town, right in front of the mine, with a deck of 25 cards each in their left hand, and a revolver handle sitting just below their right.

"I wanna see a good, clean fight, you guys," Mayana said, explaining the rules for this sudden change in universe, "You throw out one card on the count of three, and if it wins, you get to shoot! Ready?"

"Ready!"

"Ohgeddonwivvitlass..."

"One!"

Sentinel's fingers twitched over his selection...

"Two!"

Zaghero edged his card up over the end of the deck, prepared to toss it...

"THREE!"

Zag threw his card out, quite literally, and Sentinel threw his. Mayana walked up to them to inspect the indented pictures.

"So, it looks like Zag-Chan threw a moon, and Sentinel-Yatsu threw a... Blob... With holes in it... This is a sponge, right?"

"So, which one wins in a fight?" Zag questioned. He was a cartoon man with things to do besides barbaric bloodsport.

"I... I don't know..."

Sentinel was filled with ennui and aggravation at the amount of time he was being forced to wait, and so his plastered mind came up with the perfect, win-win solution, "SPUNGE... LUKS LIKE... MOON! I WIN!"

And then he shot Zaghero in the face, right then and there.*

There was a mighty goresplosion, and Sentinel was quick to rummage through Zag's pockets for spare Frijoles. Finding only one, dissappointingly enough, he decided to buy a rundown donkey with it and ride off slowly into the sunset, his quest for groceries continuing...

*And he may or may not come back mysteriously for a sequel if he challenges me again.

 

Seitold walked westward toward the town of Loungar, where he heard that his rival Sentingr was working for a while. Seitold's father's name was Daddy Seitold and Seitold's mother's name was Mummy Seitold, and they lived in the village of Gulljord as seasoned cheese farmers. Seitold Jr. had just come from the village of Gulljord, where his friend Zagnar had been shot through the nose in a Holmgang with Sentingr. Now, Zagnar's father was Papa Zagnar of Cyoednsarg Clan, and Zagnar's mother was Mama Zagnar of Cyoednsarg Clan, and they owned a bow shop. This was, perhaps, why they decided to have a Bows-only Holmgang in the middle of the town, but still nobody can say they thought it was ever a good idea. This affair was especially upsetting to Seitold, because Sentingr had once called Seitold a tiny man.

Now, Sentingr was a Birdman, once hired as a thingman for a man called Aman. He fought zealously under his king for several winters, before retiring to live with his wife Anjla in the mountains. Anjla's mother was Katr of the Furfuksnr clan, and her father was Tomvald of the Furfuksnr clan, and they built longhouses. So it happened that Sentingr and Anjla lived in a longhouse in the mountains. Every few days, Sentingr would come down and visit a village to buy supplies. 3 days prior to this tale, on the day when he shot Zagnar through the nose in a Holmgang, he had run out of bacon, so he came to Gulljord to buy some more. It was on this same day that he had been stabbed deeply by Mayanr the new Huscarl in a Holmgang with bizarrely specific rules. Mayanr's Father was named Ma Mayanr, and Mayanr's mother was named Pa Mayanr, and they owned many sheep.

*Here the first big rock runs out of space, and the reader must walk further uphill to continue on the next one.*

Along the way, Seitold knocked on the door of an old hut that seemed to be still inhabitted. A witch opened the door. The witch's name was Mizarn Endrssdottir, and her father's name was- *Large portions of rock have been worn off in the rain*

"Hello," said Seitold to the witch, "I am Seitold Seitoldsson of the Cyoednsarg Clan from Gulljord."

"I have heard of that place, Gulljord." Said the witch to Seitold, "Your Huscarl owns many sheep."

"Yes. I was hoping you could provide me with directions to Loungar."

"The road you are on right now is the right way to go. When you come to the fork in the road, take the one that goes northwest and follow it to the village. What business have you in Loungar?"

"I mean to fight a man there."

"If you mean to fight a man in Loungar, I can provide you with a blade for the small fee of five frijoles."

"I have my own...?" Seto said with confusion.

"You do not have a sword like this, for I am a witch, and all of my shit is enchanted. Let me tell you of Vindrslicr: It moves like no sword and swings swiftly as if it were made of nothing; it pierces deep into trees and sings like the stormy wind, for it is the sword of Air!"

"My frijoles are yours!"

Meanwhile in the town of Loungar, Sentingr rode his ass up to Playasgr's ship of burden.

"Here I have an ass," said Sentingr, gesturing to his mount, "It is a fine animal that I have only ridden from Gulljord to here. I would like to see what I can trade it for."

"I have a lot of shit on this boat. You will have to be more specific." Said Playasgr, marvelling at the donkey's lack of fear. A regular one would have bucked off its owner if anyone had asked it to walk down a pier.

*Here, the second big rock runs out of space. The reader must go to the back of the first rock.*

"I want to buy bacon. My wife and I have run out of it while making delicious smørrebrød."

"There is much bacon aboard my ship," Playasgr said, "But you cannot buy it, because it is my bacon."

Dejected, Sentingr rode back into town, only to be greeted by an angry ponytailed anime attempting to shove him off of his animal.

"Sentingr, I am here to fight with you! To the death!" Seitold shouted, swinging up at the Penguinite, "You have shot my friend in the face!"

"What? How did I piss you off this time!?" Sentingr shouted back, leaning away from Seitold's fists.

"Do not attempt to toy with me! You shot Zagnar through the nose in a Holmgang, and now he is dead!"

"WHAT!? NO! I COULDN'T HAVE!"

"LIAR!"

"BY THE OILY GRAY BEARD OF ODIN'S SCROTUM, WHAT HAVE I DONE!?"

*The rest of the confrontation was worn out here. It is said to have been washed away by the tears of the hunchbacked stonecutter, (Whose parentage was "un"fortunately lost to time.) while he was quietly masturbating to some leper maidens bathing in the nearby river. Vikings have very specific legends.*

Their melodrama was interrupted by Endr the Warlock. Endr's father was the endless destruction at the center of the universe, and Endr's mother was the cold and maddening isolation exiled beyond Uncountable Infinity, and they own a fertile goat pasture buried under the Floating Volcanic Isle of Atlantis. When Endr ascends into his true form, it is said that Atlantis will sink and be replaced by a lucrative goat enterprise that will monopolize the goat industry and potentially devour several child souls in the process. Endr has had a steaming romp with most, if not all of the mothers mentioned in this or any saga. One of them gave birth to Mizarn

"You are both from a high order of retarded," Endr said, "And if I will not listen to either of your sad melodramas any more. You will fight in a proper Holmgang tomorrow, to the death, and you will shut up about it forever."

There was no arguing with a warlock. Especially not the day before a full moon. It was settled that they would go to the high hill on the next day and Holmgang one another to death.

*The reader must now head to the back of the second stone*

Now, Sentingr headed to Endr's house to ask for a favor.

He said, "Endr, I know that you want us not to fight about the death of Zagnar, but I feel much remorse about his death and would prefer not to kill more men over it. I also have a family to get home to, and neither I nor Seitold can bear the title Nidingr for the rest of our lives. I wish you to help convince Seitold to call off the Holmgang!"

Endr said, "No." and slapped Sentingr with the back part of his hand, "You will fight Seitold in the Holmgang and you will win. Then you will rob the hag Mizarn, who has sold a sword to him. She has been using her abilities to make a quick frijole off of passing duelists for too long! Now we have power-drunk adventurers all over the place waving magic swords around and being annoying!"

"If Mizarn has sold Seitold a magic sword, then how will I win!?" Sentingr asked,

Endr sighed, "You will have a magic sword that counterracts the magic of his magic sword, you dolt. And then you will return it to me."

"And if I say no?"

"Then I will kill everyone involved."

"Oh, okay..."

So Sentingr took the sword, and met Seitold between two big rocks on a hill.

"Today we meet to fight in a Holmgang, to the death! Unarmored, and with only swords. The winner shall take his weregeld in the form of five Frijoles! Mizarn shall watch the match in order to make sure that nobody cheats Do you agree upon these rules?" Said Seitold.

"Yes, I do." Sentingr said. His feelings were grim as he laid a hand on his sword.

The men unsheathed their swords and prepared to do battle, but Seitold's blade felt... Off... He swung, but it was too light, it was as if the sword did not have enough mass to gain momentum. He parried Sentingr's blade, but it could not create enough force to push it away. Mizarn looked worried.

"I was promised a Magic Sword that would win me the battle!" Seitold shouted at Mizarn, who was looking very nervous.

Sentingr jumped high in the air, higher than someone on earth's gravity should have been able to, and came down fast toward Seitold...

"Your sword is the sword of air, but he wields the sword of the moon!" Mizarn said, "You may as well fight him with a leek, because there is no air on the moon!"

"HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT!? IT IS THE AGE OF THE VIKINGS!" Said Seitold, before being midair-stabbed by the Birdman.

Seitold fell to the ground, and Sentingr turned to the witch, "Where is my Weregeld, witch!?""

"Take your beans, Furfuksnr scum." She said with bitterness, handing him the money, "You tamper with forces that you cannot comprehend!"

"Endrr said that if you do not stop selling magic swords to every Tomgar, Dicksnr, and Harryvald, that he will fuck your mother in all of her holes."

And then the Birdman left as he arrived, continuing on his quest to purchase bacon.

xD That was beautiful. 

I am like...5" something. Not even 6" something. It's sad T-T

This is golden! Bravo, you should get your points back for such exelent work! And no, I'm totally not saying this about the story only because I am in it.