I missed the memorial event Sunday but still wanted to share something. Xixist and I were working on a big Trothfang themed party for everyone using his wedding event awhile back, but there are things going on and it'd been on hold awhile. I wanted to share a skit that I was working on for the event in Xixist's memory. The formatting isn't ironed out but hopefully you'll all still like it.
(This was before Squanto sold, both gave OK's for it at the time.)
A dour-faced cleric in bloodstained robes stands before the gathered.
The cleric of Trothfang waits while the rabble quiets.
The cleric raises a harsh voice, "I will thank you to turn your attentions towards the front."
The cleric clears his throat pointedly while his gaze narrows upon the few who are slow to adopt the proper reverence.
The cleric raises his hoarse voice again, "You display wisdom avoiding the ire of the god of carnage by attending us.
He gives a slight, acknowledging nod before continuing, "Our dark lord, the mortiferous Trothfang has given me a vision and gift to denote his fleeting benevolence."
The dour and heavily scarred cleric gives an expression that seems to be a cross between a smirk and a sneer, "Any that perish here only need to be returned to this altar. They will then become fully restored and able to further celebrate."
Any hint of smirk or sarcasm flees the reverend's tone as he turns more severe, "If you choose to be a coward and attack people weaker than yourself purposefully, or repeatedly ...You will not be raised or you will be banished from this holy place."
Looking expectantly to Xixist, the cleric of Trothfang gives a slight nod and takes a place next to the altar.
Xixist scratches at his beard, scans the crowd and lifts his chin slightly, a subtle motion drawing the command of attention towards himself.
Xixist gives a brief grunt and says, "Alright folks, Squanto an' I are going to have a scrap with good old beer mugs to kick things off."
Xixist grins fiercely before continuing, "There's a couple of games out there, drinks and food. The guys aren't bringing out the gifts until after the glass gets cleaned up though."
A sturdy cart is pushed to the front by an assistant, heavy laden with giant glass mugs filled with an amber-toned beer, and six double shot glasses full of Trothfang pepper whiskey.
Xixist and Squanto clasp forearms tightly and share wide, amicable grins before going up to the heavy cart.
Each of the barbarians grab a mug in one hand and three of the Trothfang whiskey shot glasses, deftly stacked, in the other hand.
Simultaneously, Squanto and Xixist bellow a toast and slam their mugs on the cart, -BANG- "BEER!" -BANG-, "BATTLE!" -BANG-, "BLOOD!!"
With no hesitation the shot glasses are dropped into their mugs, which are then upended as the barbarians chug down their fiery concoctions, Squanto properly keeping his pinky finger straight. Thumbs stick over the rims to keep the shot glasses from bonking them on the nose.
Barely two seconds apart their first mugs are lowered and they each grab a second mug and chug rapidly.
Xixist is forced to pause in order to let out a thunderous belch, but resumes emptying his drink as quickly as he is able.
Squanto finishes first and gets bit of a funny look, tucking his chin and lets out a burp of epic proportions!
Xixist finishes his drink just in time to catch Squanto lunging towards him with a furious roar! His back arches backwards but Squanto still manages to clip him in the temple.
A soft -snap- can be heard on impact and a chunk of the glass rim falls, but it takes a moment for the blood to start seeping from a small slice across Xixist's head.
Xixist retains his balance and swings his right mug into an uppercut to the jaw that cracks teeth and shot glasses.
Dancing back a step to plan another approach, Squanto winks at the crowd while running his tongue over blood-smeared teeth, somehow managing to appear both threatening and seductive at once.
Titters raise and dwindle through the cheers of the crowd.
Squanto hunches some and charges towards Xixist.
Xixist bears down on Squanto, swinging his mugs overhead and downwards while the shot glasses clatter to the ground. Xixist's left mug shatters as the full blow catches Squanto on the shoulder.
Squanto takes the blow, barreling into Xixist to tackle him to the ground. Meanwhile ramming his mug into Xixist's ribs a few times, the splintering of glass proceeds a particularly nasty gash.
Xixist's exposed bones can be glimpsed from underneath a gruesome, loose flap of skin.
Xixist gives a forced grunt as he and Squanto go to the ground, but he manages to get a leg between them and unbalance Squanto with a mighty push.
Both barbarians roll to their feet and bellow roars, each starting to arch into a swing, hoping to get a leg up on the other.
Time almost seems to slow as the glorious collision becomes imminent, then comes to pass. A high-pitched crack and grinding shatter stabs at your ears. Crystalline shards and needles pepper the crowd.
A large chunk of glass gashes directly into Xixist's eye and lodges in the flesh of his cheek. Streams of blood and some globulus substance dribbles down.
While Squanto's mug was destroyed, a decent chunk still remained attached to Xixist's handle. His strike follows through and gashes Squanto's neck almost halfway through.
Blood fountains and sprays everywhere in spurts that slowly decrease in size, splattering across cheering patron, priest, and altar alike. Squanto laughs voicelessly as his bloodflow slows and the laugh rapidly becomes hauntingly ethereal.
Xixist wipes the fluid from his cheek, producing an eyepatch from his person and settling it in place over his vacant eye-hole.
The dark priest licks a bit of blood from his lips, grinning maliciously. He grumbles a holy prayer to Trothfang, Urrem'tier, and Hodierna then looks expectantly towards Squanto.
A dark glow obscures Squanto's wounds from sight. His eyes open and the glow dissipates to reveal his healed body beneath.
Squanto rolls to his feet and exchanges a back-thumping embrace with Xixist as they walk back to the cart to heist up two fresh mugs. They both take long drinks, coming up for air with a shouted toast, "FOR TROTHFANG!!"
The scarred priest gives a smug expression and reiterates, "Remember, do not DEPART while you are here. Wait until someone brings you back to the altar so you may be fully restored."
Xixist turns to address the gathered, raising up his quarter-full mug so it sloshes a bit, "Alright that's it! Go on out and kill each other, see if you can handle the food, play some games, whatever's fun for you!"
