Original Submissions by Ajm of type 'Stories'

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  Motivation
  Added on Feb 11, 2009

  A Byn sarge's speech to his runners before battle.

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  Motivation

  A grizzled, stocky Dwarf paced in front of his crew with authority. He was a Byn Sarge, looking approvingly over the assembled group, the brown stained cloaks and patches that donned their shoulders. A little under a small of men, Dwarves and Elves all stood alert, their hands  proudly up to their chest in salute. All eyes were trained on the leader in front of them.

  “Listen up feckers!” ordered the commanding Dwarf in agruff voice. He makes sure to hold the gaze of each individual as he speaks.  “One day dere was a man. Dis man was da bes’ feckin’ runner ya woul’ eva’ meet. He coul’ take down a ‘alf-giant as if et were a kank fly!” His gloved hands slam together, creating a heavy, sudden noise, and squishing a bug is simulated.

  “Dis man wen’ ta the lactrine an’ had a shit. The man was so feckin’ grea’ that his shit go’ up and started talkin’.  Just then a Git’ comes outa the sewer catching the man with his pants down!” His mouth twisted into a half smile, while is eyes glared at an elf.

  The watched Elf shifted uncomfortably, breaking the gaze by bowing his head. With a smirk, the Dwarf continued speaking and moving down the line.

   “The Git’ may have killed da man bu’ da shit caugh’ da Git’ in his hand and broke da Git’s neck with his thumb. That Shit became stronger dan anytin’ in all o’ zalanthas. That shit coul’ take down a mekk’ sittin’ an’ one time he did jus’ that.” He paused, eyes briefly scanning the crown for any inattentive behaviour before starting again.

  “Eventually that shit go’ old and knew et was time. The shit wen’ to da lactrine and too’ a shit of his own. The second Shit was so big it too’ everything from da first shit so that da firs’ shit was not’ing more den roach foo’”.

  A lanky brown-haired man scrunched his nose as he watched the Sarge pace by.

  “Da secon’ shit was so fast, dat et feckin’ stole da sarge’s club an’ killed ‘im before anyone coul’ blink. That second shit lead the Fist for many years withou’ even one death! One time a Kaduis wagon fell o’ da wall. They say da second shit jumped down afta’ et. Down da feckin’ wall! An hour lata the shit came back up wit da Kadian still alive. The silker said dat da shit ran so fas’ dat he ran righ’ up da wall carryin’ him on his back!”

  One of the younger men in the back scratched the back of his head. He froze as the Dwarf landed a glare on him, then snapped back into attention. The Dwarf gave a low grumble and continued on.

  “When dat shit was rea’y to go et had a shit. Da thir’ shit was so smar’ that et learn’d evert’ing dere was to learn. Dat thir’ shit killed a half giant jus’ by explainin’ somtin’ to et. They say the giant’s head exploded from too much knowledge enterin’ et at da same time.” He looked up at two half-giants in the back, slitting his eyes.

  “Da Shit’s ‘ad a reputation now. Nobles an’ Templars resp’cted da whole shit family. Da thir’ Shit knew da meanin’ o’ life an’ everytin’.  He ‘ad a plan. Dat thir’ shit Swell’d, he began ta grow. He grew bigger dan a half-giant. He grew bigger dan a Mekk. Den he grew more. When he finished growing… He took a shit.”

  “From de thir’ shit came for’y shits!” His gruff voice was now raised in a yell, words echoing off the back wall. “An’ you feckers are dem for’y shits!”

  He stops to scan the crowed, looking each of them over, before staring at a bulky dwarf, declaring, “You are feckin’ shit, runner!” Eyes looking over the group, his voice booms out, “You ‘er all feckin’ shit!”

  Once the words finish echoing, he continues into the silence, “Forty o’ de bes’ feckin’ shit in all Zalanthas.  So we es goin’ ou’ dere an’ we es goin’ ta feckin’ kill an’ feckin’ win. Don’ let yer sarge down! Don’ feckin’ let yer family down! In HIS SHADE WE MARCH!”

   

  ~AJM~

  Motivation

  A grizzled, stocky Dwarf paced in front of his crew with

  authority. He was a Byn Sarge, looking approvingly over the assembled group,

  the brown stained cloaks and patches that donned their shoulders. A little

  under a small of men, Dwarves and Elves all stood alert, their hands ...

  
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