Post by A guard named Tug on Jul 1, 2004 22:41:35 GMT -5
His name...well....not his given name, certainly...was Tug. He was an affable, easy going sort of fellow...at least on the surface...but underneath he was shrewd and very intelligent....add this to the fact that many likened his size to that of a small hillock, and you found a very interesting man. It was always his nature to allow others to believe that he was slow and stupid....often wearing an idiot's grin upon his face...yet in fact, he was surprisingly quick and agile for a man of his bulk....and very strong...very nearly as strong as the Captain he so admired.
It so came to pass this day, that Tug was on dungeon duty...he didn't much care for it, of course....none of the guards really did, save Percival....but he was an odd sort of duck, anyway....but it was a part of the duty rotation, so he endured his time when it came round. He'd been munching on a leg of mutton (as I said.....Tug was a BIG man), when he'd heard what he thought was a muffled cry and the sounds of a scuffle. He laid down the nearly picked clean haunch and rose from his stool to see what the matter was...the sounds of a scuffle indeed!...for as he approached the cell where the sailor chap was being held, he saw the aforementioned sailor wrestling with his best friend Lam, fumbling at trying to wrest Lam's sword free. Well, now....this just would not DO.
With a speed that belied his bulk, he rushed into the cell...reaching the two grappling men just as the sailor wrenced Lam's sword free....so intent was the wild-eyed sailor on driving the captured sword into Lam's body that he never even saw the big guard coming....until it was too late, that is...(I did mention that Tug was an extra large, aye?)...far too late to avoid the fist the size of a ham that came whistling towards his head. So hard was the blow that the Frank was lifted cleanly off his feet....and deposited none too gently on the floor of the cell a goodly 5 feet away. He spared a few moments to look carefully to the man sprawled on the floor...but Tug wasn't worried.....when he hit a man, it was generally quite a few hours before said man was able to even remember his name, much less rise on his own.
Thus satisfied that the situation was well in hand, he turned to help Lam, who was coughing and rubbing his throat...the sailor haven given him a good choking..."Ere now, Lam....wots dis?...yers let a SAILOR gets da bests of ye?....and right fair 'anded 'im yer sword, ta boot?....best nots let Cap'n 'Awkmoon find out....or ye'll be a gong farmin', fer shure...now ye goes fetch yer sword and lets let dis here fella enjoy 'is nap fer a few hours....an fer the luvva God, Lam...be's CAREFUL next time"
It so came to pass this day, that Tug was on dungeon duty...he didn't much care for it, of course....none of the guards really did, save Percival....but he was an odd sort of duck, anyway....but it was a part of the duty rotation, so he endured his time when it came round. He'd been munching on a leg of mutton (as I said.....Tug was a BIG man), when he'd heard what he thought was a muffled cry and the sounds of a scuffle. He laid down the nearly picked clean haunch and rose from his stool to see what the matter was...the sounds of a scuffle indeed!...for as he approached the cell where the sailor chap was being held, he saw the aforementioned sailor wrestling with his best friend Lam, fumbling at trying to wrest Lam's sword free. Well, now....this just would not DO.
With a speed that belied his bulk, he rushed into the cell...reaching the two grappling men just as the sailor wrenced Lam's sword free....so intent was the wild-eyed sailor on driving the captured sword into Lam's body that he never even saw the big guard coming....until it was too late, that is...(I did mention that Tug was an extra large, aye?)...far too late to avoid the fist the size of a ham that came whistling towards his head. So hard was the blow that the Frank was lifted cleanly off his feet....and deposited none too gently on the floor of the cell a goodly 5 feet away. He spared a few moments to look carefully to the man sprawled on the floor...but Tug wasn't worried.....when he hit a man, it was generally quite a few hours before said man was able to even remember his name, much less rise on his own.
Thus satisfied that the situation was well in hand, he turned to help Lam, who was coughing and rubbing his throat...the sailor haven given him a good choking..."Ere now, Lam....wots dis?...yers let a SAILOR gets da bests of ye?....and right fair 'anded 'im yer sword, ta boot?....best nots let Cap'n 'Awkmoon find out....or ye'll be a gong farmin', fer shure...now ye goes fetch yer sword and lets let dis here fella enjoy 'is nap fer a few hours....an fer the luvva God, Lam...be's CAREFUL next time"