...Or similarly short bit of writing, but that's not as concise. Stolen whole from lambwolfandman so I probably don't know what I'm getting myself into. Take your pick, and I'll (try to) write it!
Oh, now look upon what you have wrought . XDlord_it_overJune 1 2010, 19:32:14 UTC
Gnarl had a word of advice for everything, and Gromgard discovered too late that this included romance. There wasn’t a strict protocol to follow, because the Overlord did as he pleased, but the wizened old Minion master was more than happy to help the Dark Lord find himself a mistress. (Young Gromgard tried hard not to think about the implications of that).
He stared at the wreckage of his latest attempt at courting, a bit annoyed and a little mournful. He’d tried sending her a message. He’d written a short but (Gnarl said) very eloquent letter about how much he admired her skill and how dashing she looked in her armour and incidentally, he had a mighty fortress and unimaginable power she might find impressive, if she’d like to come and see it. He’d tried smiting her enemies, except he was having a hard time finding any: killing those unicorns before she ran into them hadn’t helped any. He’d even tried flowers, although admittedly he probably shouldn’t have trusted the Greens with that.
This is because I burned down her village, isn
( ... )
It's so easy for young men to get confused in their identities...lord_it_overJune 1 2010, 21:09:39 UTC
All the signs were there. The odd behaviour, the secretive sneaking out at night, the strange moods… Gnarl’s suspicions were confirmed when he caught the Dark One alone in his room one dawn.
“Master!” Appalled, he whipped around and shooed the more impressionable younger minions out of the doorway before he closed it. Privacy ensured, he turned back and struggled to think how to deal with this. “I understand this is a very turbulent time for a young Overlord, master, but some things… Cross-dressing? Forgive me, master, but you can’t do this!”
Lord Gromgard gave him a sceptical look that said plainly the boy didn’t understand how serious this was. “It’s just a cape, Gnarl.”
“A hero’s cape, my lord. Please!”
Gromgard turned, inspecting the swirl of the disgusting garment around him with interest. “Yes. I know. But how can you tell? How can I tell?”“It’s… ah, a gift of Evil, my lord.” Gnarl tried not to be queasy. There was a griffin emblazoned on the cape and it was all golden and… ooooh, he was feeling woozy already. “One of the
( ... )
It's not cheating just because it's easy :Plord_it_overJune 1 2010, 21:37:40 UTC
He was getting too old for this. Pretty soon Gerda would have chop his legs off to stuff him in any more barrels.
Good incentive not to let her sneak up on him again.
All his blood was going to his head. He stretched as much as he could and rocked his weight until the barrel rocked on its base and started to topple. He might have bruised something when it smacked onto its side, but he wasn’t out yet. Time to roll.
A minute later, the barrel wobbled around him, and then he felt it start to fall.
It bounced down the stone steps once, twice, and shattered at the bottom. The youngest Lord Gromgard picked himself out of the splinters, nodded to the watching servants, and strolled away a bit unsteadily.
He was really too old to be letting a six-foot woman in plate armour get the drop on him like that. It was starting to get embarrassing.
I finally get a chance to let him angst, and he won't co-operate! Nevertheless: Needs-a-Hug!Gromgardlord_it_overJune 3 2010, 00:34:08 UTC
He didn’t mind being on his own. The youngest Gromgard got used to that very early on. He was the kind of child who could be quite comfortable in the shadows, even though he did gravitate towards other people. He could amuse himself readily enough by watching the world, without needing the world to put much effort in on his behalf. Who needed friendly chats and pats on the back? When he had something to say, he could say it. When, and if
( ... )
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DOOOOOOO IIIIIIIIIT!
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He stared at the wreckage of his latest attempt at courting, a bit annoyed and a little mournful. He’d tried sending her a message. He’d written a short but (Gnarl said) very eloquent letter about how much he admired her skill and how dashing she looked in her armour and incidentally, he had a mighty fortress and unimaginable power she might find impressive, if she’d like to come and see it. He’d tried smiting her enemies, except he was having a hard time finding any: killing those unicorns before she ran into them hadn’t helped any. He’d even tried flowers, although admittedly he probably shouldn’t have trusted the Greens with that.
This is because I burned down her village, isn ( ... )
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She did. He perked up. That was a good sign. Maybe Gnarl did know what he was talking about after all.
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Thank you!
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“Master!” Appalled, he whipped around and shooed the more impressionable younger minions out of the doorway before he closed it. Privacy ensured, he turned back and struggled to think how to deal with this. “I understand this is a very turbulent time for a young Overlord, master, but some things… Cross-dressing? Forgive me, master, but you can’t do this!”
Lord Gromgard gave him a sceptical look that said plainly the boy didn’t understand how serious this was. “It’s just a cape, Gnarl.”
“A hero’s cape, my lord. Please!”
Gromgard turned, inspecting the swirl of the disgusting garment around him with interest. “Yes. I know. But how can you tell? How can I tell?”“It’s… ah, a gift of Evil, my lord.” Gnarl tried not to be queasy. There was a griffin emblazoned on the cape and it was all golden and… ooooh, he was feeling woozy already. “One of the ( ... )
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Good incentive not to let her sneak up on him again.
All his blood was going to his head. He stretched as much as he could and rocked his weight until the barrel rocked on its base and started to topple. He might have bruised something when it smacked onto its side, but he wasn’t out yet. Time to roll.
A minute later, the barrel wobbled around him, and then he felt it start to fall.
It bounced down the stone steps once, twice, and shattered at the bottom. The youngest Lord Gromgard picked himself out of the splinters, nodded to the watching servants, and strolled away a bit unsteadily.
He was really too old to be letting a six-foot woman in plate armour get the drop on him like that. It was starting to get embarrassing.
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