Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Aug 1, 2021 23:41:57 GMT
Good read, the lodge would be amazing for a series of short stories written this way
|
|
pgandy
Moderator
Senior Forumite
Posts: 10,296
|
Post by pgandy on Aug 2, 2021 1:19:15 GMT
Good story.
|
|
|
Post by soulfromheart on Aug 2, 2021 22:07:02 GMT
Disposing of the monsters' bodies is way underrated as a skill, just saying. (Would it be profitable ? Does the Lodge employ professional sweepers or are Hunters personally responsible for trash removal ? Both ? )
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2021 22:30:56 GMT
Disposing of the monsters' bodies is way underrated as a skill, just saying. (Would it be profitable ? Does the Lodge employ professional sweepers or are Hunters personally responsible for trash removal ? Both ? ) Not to mention all the free organic material one can harvest from such beasts, which wouod be a huge perk
|
|
|
Post by rannh1 on Aug 4, 2021 1:34:16 GMT
Sorry if I'm arriving late to the party, are these a series of short stories by you? @brother nathaniel?
|
|
|
Post by glendon on Aug 10, 2021 2:00:43 GMT
Interesting concept, "Sweepers". If I might be forgiven for intruding upon the author's milieu, I submit the following:
I agree that removal and renovation of battle-scenes is crucial.
Given the nature--or unnature-- of various species of monster, one could imagine a sub-group or closely-aligned guild of well-versed loremasters, deeply in the know, who have all sorts of esoteric equipment with which to facilitate the safe removal, hygiene, and cover-up of incidents. Killing (for example) a Black Dragon in the village pasture is one thing; making the area safe for herds afterwards, and this without alerting the local well-meaning but incredulous constabulary, is another altogether! Ah, unorthodox holy/magic items and a new, necessary, geeky-but-stealthy character class! Fantasy Noir!
"There I stood in the pale moonlight, shivering in the cold, having divested myself of my clothes; I watched as my best suit smoldered into ash, the black blood playing this last, ruinous part of the horrible contest. I ignored the fumbling of my sliced fingers as I lit my last cigarette... was it just yesterday she handed me this pack?... and as I dragged on it like veritable mother's milk I caught sight of what was left of Andrea. The church stood quiet, a mere hundred yards away. I exhaled, the smoke intensifying the midnight reek. There must have been 17 tonnes of rancid protoplasm strewn about. This was a job for Brother No-Ass."
|
|