Message from @Panzerϟϟchreck Berb
Discord ID: 680429861189320757
I went down steam and a hour away and it sits between a entry of rocks and shoreline
That looks nice
Water
<:monka:550156991583092756>
Based Dale
King of the Hill would not be the show it was without Dale
The legend will live on
I wish I coule be half the commando deal is
Yes
keep going but give some backstory
A lone man sat upon the stoop, barring us entry. A pauper, from the look of him, like the rest of us. Though not with torch in hand and rage in heart, like the rest of us. We had taken to the streets, having had our fill of "being ploughed in the ass while we're forced to suck our own cocks with a mouthful of broken glass", as my father had said. I was yet a boy, but as I'd understood it we were going around town to find those who had done the ploughing, drag them from their beds, and hang them from the street lights so that we all could sit down again. I'd guess there between fourty and fifty of us standing infront of this house. An overwrought three story stonework building which sat high up on the westermost hill overlooking the village. Covered in vines to the roof, sealing the shutters closed on many of the windows.
The man stared coldly at us. His weathered face and broken boots told the story of a life all too familiar to us, and perhaps this is why they allowed him to speak. "I know what you intend, and have no qualms with it myself. Burn the whole damned village to the ground for all I care, but this house is off limits." From the middle of the group my father's friend Gus stepped forward. He had been the one to knock on our door to tell us it was time. His words were resolute in purpose, "Surely you know that of all the houses this one deserves to burn most. You know which family this is, what they have done! Stand aside or we will hang you from this bastards feet where you belong!"
The man looked down, pulled out a pipe, and lit it. He took a couple puffs, looked back up and said "No. Not this one." Gus took a step forward, leaving the rest of us behind him, and there was a deafening boom as Gus fell to his face infront of us, the man still seated and puffing his pipe now wreathed in a cloud of thick smoke. How he had produced and fired a gun so quickly would thereafter have become an intense matter of debate, for none of us had ever seen him holding one. The crowd had reeled back in shock, a few even fled, but many who remained had their rage stoked hotter by the death of their friend, my father among them, and so I among them.
The next to speak was Henry, from the back of the group. "Ohhh, you're a dead man now you pig fu-", "Shut it you coward!" the man interjected. "You are afraid and so seek to make others die in your stead. Very well, if it will avoid more pointless death on such a night I will allow two of you to enter the house to inspect it, after which you will all turn around and go home to your families." Randy responded with more sorrow than rage "You know we can't do that. We've gone too far already, it must be finished."
The man took a long drag and blew a long plume of smoke down the stoop towards the body of Gus. "If you are dead if you try, and dead if you don't, what difference does it make? You would kill for the sake of your children, but not save your own lives for them?" At this a stillness spread throughout the mob, and slowly the torches began to lower. "Very well", agreed Randy, "I will enter the house, and I will take Walter with me. The Karstfields are responsible for the death of his livestock, causing his wife and children succumb to illness."
"No." stated the man, "You will take the boy instead, he is without grievance in his heart, and too young to prove an effective liar. He will bear true witness." Randy had run the apothecary down the street, but after the bridges were destroyed by the Karstfields he had been able to restock and he too had lost his livelihood. Randy looked long into my eyes before turning back to the man "If it's a trap-", "It isn't", the man interjected, "If it were you would not emerge and the crowd would throw their torches . . . burning you alive with the house, so for your sake, and mine, you had best not keep them waiting."
Randy sighed in resignation, "Alright. Come along now, and Frank, keep the rest of them in toe, I won't let anything happen to your boy, you know that." As randy went to approach the man my father put his hand on my shoulder, and whispered into my ear as he slipped a knife into my breast pocket "They'll kill us all for this if any of them live." I walked up to randy and told him I was ready. The man looked me square in the eye and said "You will understand what they would not." He then rose to his feet, and took an enormous ring of keys from his belt and proceeded to undo the many locks on the towering braced door. Randy and I entered the building, the door closing behind us, shutting out the screaming and carnage from the distant riots behind cyclopian stone walls.
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Did some writing. Big gay, or keep going?
Wasn't the sounding of the trumpets some retard that kept spamming it on /x/
@Dionysus AKA Giegue I remember seeing those threads.
Not exactly spoopy in the /x/ sense, but it's a wild ride. Shit like this is the reason ARGs really creep me out.
Fucking hippies trying to play god
Should weird dreams put into text be dumped here?
Ye
