Norman Posted February 27, 2007 Report Share Posted February 27, 2007 There once was a Crypto named mancer Who fancied himself an orcish dancer His footwork was faulty But he knew how to party As I recall he even made friends with the bouncer. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wyvern Posted March 3, 2007 Report Share Posted March 3, 2007 Wyvern scurries into the Banquet Hall with a large notepad labeled "Blackmail Resources/Poetry Doodle Pad." The overgrown lizard seats himself on a chair adjacent to the spot where Norman is reciting his poetry. He licks his quill and nods to Norman's words, then begins scrawling several notations onto his sheet. "Sssoooo tell me Norman, would this be a kind of 'Gut the Healfdead Kobold Jig' type orc dance, or more of a 'Panic Over Disturbing the Dragon Hords Disco' type orc dance?" ;-) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Norman Posted March 4, 2007 Author Report Share Posted March 4, 2007 Norman eyeballs the Lizardy thing that is questioning his poetic ability in a manner resembling a heckler. He contemplates making friends 'orcish style'. Norman's face lights up in a rather comical grin. "Orcish dance of frinedship, it is guv, good of you to ask, It is the dance of friendship see, as it normanlly ends in a good introducing of people to eachother and some good lasting frinedships being made and all, if you take my meaning." Norman pranced about, "The once was a sorta almost dragon, Who's schemes was as sound as a wagon that only had one wheel and missing boards in the spiel and he seemed a few pints short of a flagon." Norman stopped prancing and grinned at the Almost draconic elder. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Quincunx Posted March 4, 2007 Report Share Posted March 4, 2007 The chain gang shuffles to a rather ripe and unpreserved stop. One zombie's buttock gives way at the last jostle and falls to the floor--thwip. Once the canopic jars they clutch stop moving, some gelatinous and thready mass lifts itself a few inches over the lip of the jar and leans toward the orc. "Hey. . . hey. . . hey. . . yyyyyyyoooooooouuuuuuuuu," sing the leeches in barbershop quartet style (tenor), "care-to-have-some-back-up-siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiingers. . .?" Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts