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  • File: 1333154543.jpg-(257 KB, 957x1200, Frank_Frazetta__--The_Executioner__.jpg)
    257 KB Headsman's Quest- Part IV Choppingblock !!axso+Og9by5 03/30/12(Fri)20:42 No.18518211  
    Continued (after a brief hiatus) from:
    http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/18359812/
    http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/18371162/
    http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/18381592/

    You are Franklin Headsman, the dreaded executioner of Glenshire.

    A shadow has fallen over Glenshire. The moon and stars are gone, the heavens have been swallowed by an unending sea of boiling smoke, black as pitch. Beyond the walls of the city, you notice a hellish glow rising over the crenelated walls accompanied by the angry roar of distant fires.

    You wear the burlap hood and tunic of the executioner, spattered from head to toe with gore. Your headsman's axe is in your hands. Its handle is slick with blood and its blade is scabbed over. Using the glare from the distant inferno to light your way, you wander the alleyways and corridors of the Old District. The cobblestones are covered in blood, it has pooled up in the gutters, and the the brick walls are caked with it. An odor of smoke and rotting corpses poisons the air and clings to every surface. The stench is so strong you can taste it. You neither see nor hear a living soul as you stalk the grisly streets of Glenshire. Shadows seem to seethe and churn in the periphery of your vision, twisting into ghoulish and macabre forms that vanish when you turn your gaze upon them. The darkness is nearly palpable. It surrounds you like buzzards encircling a dying animal. You can almost hear the darkness whispering, or is it only your imagination?
    >> Choppingblock !!axso+Og9by5 03/30/12(Fri)20:43 No.18518227
         File: 1333154607.png-(391 KB, 764x800, Axeman.png)
    391 KB
    You head north to the grand promenade that runs east to west through the middle of the city. Stepping out onto the wide road, you immediately recoil in horror. You now know what has become of the citizens of Glenshire. The promenade has been cobbled their heads, scores of thousands of them. Men, women, and children, they stare upwards with horrified, pleading faces, eyes wide with fear, mouths hanging agape awaiting screams that will never be heard. Crows pick at their lifeless, bulging eyes and their blackened tongues.

    In the distance, you can see castle Glenshire rising from the center of the city, black and foreboding. The portcullis has been raised like a gaping maw, and there is torchlight pouring from within.

    ***** What do you do? *****
    >> Anonymous 03/30/12(Fri)21:01 No.18518532
    >>18518227
    Walk slowly towards the castle, this is not a normal situation, we're already covered in blood and someone needs to get justiced in the neck.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/12(Fri)21:16 No.18518782
    >>18518532

    Gripping your axe tightly, you slowly make your way down the grisly promenade of heads. It appears that all the townsfolk of Glenshire has been accounted for, from the eldest man to the youngest babe, their heads struck from their shoulders and the road paved over with their dismal remains. Your boots dig into the flesh of their faces and you can hear bones cracking with every step. The crows and rats do not scurry from your approach, they have grown fat and slothful from their feast of rotten skulls. The smell of decay is so strong you nearly wretch.

    Castle Glenshire's white walls have been stained black with soot. The standards of Andura are gone. Rotting corpses swing from the flag poles. As you cross the drawbridge you notice that the moat has become cesspool of gore and dismembered limbs overrun by maggots and flies. The stench of it almost brings you to your knees.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/12(Fri)21:22 No.18518899
    >>18518782

    ***** Any idea why this thread doesn't seem to bump? *****

    As you pass underneath the portcullis, you are greeted by thunderous applause. A great crowd has gathered in the courtyard of the castle. A horde of headless bodies awaits you, clapping their hands and stamping their feet. Headless children sitting on the shoulders of their headless fathers. Decapitated maidens swoon at your approach, crimson blood pouring down their pale bosoms.The crowd part as you approach, forming an aisle leading straight to the chopper's platform at the far end of the courtyard. On either side of the chopping block stand the headless bodies of Sheriff Crombottom and Father Johns, their arms stretched out to you, beckoning you forth.

    ***** What do you do? *****
    >> Anonymous 03/30/12(Fri)21:25 No.18518932
    >>18518899
    Bug that's been happening lately, some threads just start off at autosage, no clue why.

    Give our most Headsmanny bow, walk down the aisle with our head high and our axe raised in glory.

    If we're going to have a freaky ass dream it may as well be really fucking weird.
    >> Choppingblock !!axso+Og9by5 03/30/12(Fri)21:35 No.18519115
    >>18518932

    You smile to the headless crowd and bow your head low, like a player or minstrel would to his audience. This causes the throng to cheer and applaud. A chorus of horrible gurgles and spurts of blood erupt from their stumps. You hold your axe high and march toward the chopping block. The crowd eagerly touches your tunic and kneel at your feet. A fire of elation burns in your heart.

    The crowd is in a frenzy by the time you ascend the sixteen steps to the platform. The headless Sheriff shakes your hand firmly and pats you on the back before standing aside so you can take your rightful place behind the block. You look up to the balcony that overlooks the courtyard. The headless body of Lord Geoffroy and clapping most regally, blood pouring from his stump all over his fine robes. He motions to the portcullis and a sickly gurgling cheer fills the castle. The cart that escorts the prisoners to the chopping block has arrived.
    >> Choppingblock !!axso+Og9by5 03/30/12(Fri)21:48 No.18519319
    >>18519115

    The crowd parts to make way for a the carriage, pulled by a headless horse driven by a headless soldier. It's passage is accompanied by hisses and bloody spray. At the base of the platform, an escort of soldiers pulls the prisoner from the cart and your heart begins to sink like a stone.

    Princess Gwendolyn, wretched and nude with her hands bound behind her back is lead up the steps to the chopping block. Her dark hair hangs limply about her shoulders, her pale skin is flecked with blood. Her pale blue eyes are on you at all times, cold as steel in winter. There is no fear, only anger and hatred. You feel a tugging in your loins at her approach.

    The guards force her neck onto the block and hold her their. Blood pours from their necks onto the young woman, like blood upon the snow. The crowd becomes deathly silent. They have no eyes, but you know that all attention has been turned to you. Your axe suddenly feels very heavy in your hands.

    ***** What do you do? ******
    >> Choppingblock !!axso+Og9by5 03/30/12(Fri)21:50 No.18519357
    >>18518932

    ***** That's lame. Is there any way to prevent this from happening? This isn't the first Part IV it's ruined.*****
    >> Anonymous 03/30/12(Fri)21:52 No.18519395
    >>18519319
    Proper heavy swing, one strike completely removing her head, instant death.
    >>18519357
    Not a single fucking clue.
    >> Choppingblock !!axso+Og9by5 03/30/12(Fri)22:00 No.18519523
    >>18519357

    You look at the pathetic girl before you and then to the axe in your hand. You raise your chopper high which causes Gwendolyn's naked form to quiver, preparing for the inevitable. You can see the flesh of her neck through her hair, white and slender. She won't feel a thing.

    Your muscle's tense. Your axe trembles in anticipation, eager to taste blood once more. The blade comes down with all of your might.
    >> Choppingblock !!axso+Og9by5 03/30/12(Fri)22:13 No.18519747
    >>18519523

    The sound of a church bell ringing scarcely two meters above your head catapults you from your sleep. You quickly bolt upright and seize the clapper, putting an end to the deafening noise. You yank the rope a few times to remind whoever is ringing it that you have taken up residence in the bell tower.

    A cold sweat covers you from head to toe, and you notice that you are shaking all over. Whether this is from the dream or the ringing in your ears, you can't be sure. The errant rooster has already begun to crow, rousing the farming community of Derrington from its sleep. From the top of the bell tower, you have a commanding view of the surrounding countryside. The terrain is hilly and has been divided into a quilt-work of sorts by the various fields of crops. You and the princess must ride eastward soon, towards the border of Liril. The sky is growing pale in the east, sunrise will be soon. You must ride this way to Liril, where the princess has offered you amnesty for your crimes.

    Fingering your ears, you descend into the church, Father Dmitri is already awake, seated underneath the hexafix at behind the altar with the scriptures in his lap. He reads by the light of a single candle which he holds in his remaining arm.

    "Forgive me for the rude awakening," he says without looking up, "I forgot to remind the parsonage that you would be sleeping up there."

    ***** What do you do? *****
    >> Anonymous 03/30/12(Fri)22:15 No.18519779
    >>18519747
    It's alright, I wasn't having the best dream, it was a welcome wake up call.

    Get some breakfast and then hit the road again. Not much point in staying.
    >> Choppingblock !!axso+Og9by5 03/30/12(Fri)22:22 No.18519914
    >>18519779

    "Don't worry about it," you tell the one armed priest, "It was relief from a terrible dream."

    Father Dmitri looks up from the parchment, "Ill dreams are the flowering seeds sewn by a guilty soul. Is it anything you would like to discuss?" he motions to the confessional at the back corner of the church.

    ***** Would you like to confess your sins? *****
    >> Anonymous 03/30/12(Fri)22:31 No.18520089
    >>18519914
    As much as I'd like to confess our sins, ease our conscience I'd say no. We can trust him to a degree but I'd rather not let people know we're a wanted man.

    Shake our head and say that there are some burdens you have to carry alone and thank him for the offer.

    Get some food and move on.
    >> Choppingblock !!axso+Og9by5 03/30/12(Fri)23:09 No.18520718
    >>18520089

    You look at the priest. Father Dmitri cannot be much older than your own father, but the way he carries himself makes him seem ancient. This man has given you shelter and food, but he does not know your real name or your business. Trust is too valuable a commodity to dispense on a whim. Your soul is heavy with the events of the last fortnight, but you dare not tell the truth, not even to Father Dmitri.

    "Forgive me, but, for now, the weight of my sins is mine alone," you say. The priest's expression does not change, "Besides, they do not make those booths big enough for me."

    This makes Dmitri smile, "Very well, Richard." He calls you by your alias. "The weight of our sins," he repeats, and laughs "It tethers us all to this fallen world. It can break a man, the weight can take your strength away, it can crush you if you aren't strong enough. Are you strong enough?"

    You don't have anything to say. The priest's stare makes you uncomfortable. Instead you make for your armor which you have left in a pile in the corner of the church.

    Father Dmitri answers for you, "Let us hope so."

    Father Dmitri returns to reading the scriptures. Princess Gwendolyn emerges from the back of the church wearing her hooded traveling robe with a rucksack full of supplies in her hand, her sword is already diligently fastened to her waist. "Little Nicholas is still asleep," she says, "Let us depart before he remembers us."

    You look at the princess. Your dream is already fading from your memory, but her naked, blood spattered form haunts your mind like a persistent wraith.
    >> Choppingblock !!axso+Og9by5 03/30/12(Fri)23:09 No.18520737
    >>18520718

    You fasten what supplies the church has offered you to your horse. The sun is just beginning to rise. Gwendolyn thanks Father Dmitri for his hospitality. The priest approaches you as you tie down your chopper, you can feel his eyes on the back of your neck.

    "The authorities around here have been looking for an escaped murderer. A headsman from Glenshire, who's kidnapped a Lirilish princess."

    Your axe tingles at your touch.

    "I'd be wary to avoid attention. You wouldn't want to get... confused with such a villain, 'Richard'."

    You turn to the one armed man. He seems to have mastered the princess's craft of having no emotion whatsoever. His eyes look straight through you as if you were made of glass.

    "I'll take heed," you mutter and climb onto your horse. The princess follows. Father Dmitri does not take his eyes off you as you head down the eastward road towards Liril.
    >> Choppingblock !!axso+Og9by5 03/30/12(Fri)23:10 No.18520750
    ***** Intermission *****
    >> Choppingblock !!axso+Og9by5 03/30/12(Fri)23:19 No.18520882
    >>18520750

    ***** Actually, I'm just going to end this for the night. *****

    Thanks for the participation, anon. Hopefully the next quest won't be autosaged into oblivion.



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