Archive for December, 2014

Winter noodles mug

Autumn 74 Pine

Yet again it is freezing, with the breath of the gods shifting to the north east. The cloud cover of the sphere has been removed though, so the light of Stonewire and Imvor reach the world strongly this afternoon.

Bloodgrue looks at the mysterious black mug, wondering what was on Ottar’s mind when he gave it to Bloodgrue.

Being an apprentice, Bloodgrue doesn’t get paid; he has to beg, borrow, connive or steal to get his needs met, or anything he wants.

Ottar, is a nice Jalmal in his late nineties, he can be a bit eccentric. The old gambler rarely does the expected. Bloodgrue didn’t realize that Ottar cooks or that he is a master flute player. Now, Bloodgrue knows about the flute, but looking into the mug Bloodgrue suspects the truth of the claim about Ottar being able to cook.

Ottar calls the concoction, ‘Winter Noodles’ and insists on serving them in this mug. Looking into the mug at the noodles, Bloodgrue thinks they look undercooked. Being as Bloodgrue isn’t paying for them, he doesn’t think complaining would be wise.

To top it off, the old man bet Bloodgrue that he couldn’t finish eating the whole mug of noodles. Maybe the noodles are undercooked and it was done on purpose, as part of a challenge for an over eager apprentice seeking food.

Swallowing hard, Bloodgrue takes one last look into the dark interior of the cold mug.

Lifting the offending container, Bloodgrue decides slurping down the contents and swallowing with minimal chewing will be best. Bloodgrue, after all, has his only duster sitting on the desk, relying on Bloodgrue to eat all the contents of the mug.

Eyes closed lightly, Bloodgrue takes his first tentative slurp of the noodles in the fluid.

He stops, pulls the mug away, and looks in at the contents inquisitively, then smiles.

Bloodgrue picks up the wooden spoon from in front of him while holding the mug with one hand.

Ottar picks up his silver baritone flute and begins playing a cheerful tune while trying not to laugh.

Greedily Bloodgrue digs into the fluid and noodles with his spoon, savouring each mouthful slowly.

It takes a few minutes but Bloodgrue devours the entire contents of the large mug, draining the last drop of noodles and fluid from the black container. Bloodgrue sets the mug down on the desk of Erren Dock’s, dock master house.

The dock master house of Dock B is solid, as Dock B is one of the solid fixed docks with a stone foundation.

Bloodgrue doesn’t mind this dock house, yet, when Ottar invited him here Bloodgrue was sceptical as to what the outcome would be, with Ottar not normal by most standards. A known gambler, Ottar has a few skills that entice the ladies as well. Ottar is known to be quite successful with both gambling and women.

With Ottar cooking like this, Bloodgrue has to question why Ottar choses to live out here alone. As any lady would appreciate this cooking.

“Ottar I won, but I have to give you my duster, I never tasted such a sweet yet salty broth and noodles before. I can’t eat this and take your money. True it looked suspect and I believed you were pulling a cruel prank before I tasted the noodles. But I am man enough to apologize and to also pay for such a treat. Here is my duster.” Saying this as Bloodgrue pushes his lone coin across the dark wood desk top.

Ottar laughs as he sets down his flute “That is okay apprentice, you keep your coin,  as that was Bear’s lunch. He is going to need an explanation where his Winter Noodles went. I cook for him every third day to pay for my barge docked at, Dock B berth 17.”

Ottar laughs louder as footsteps of the small Dock Master are heard on the wood of the deck.

Bloodgrue frowns, retrieving back his solo coin, but remaining seated. This is going to be difficult now.

The sound of hard boots being wiped on the coarse door mat signal Bear is here and ready to enter his Dock Master’s dock house.

Entering, the short man looks at his two guests, grumbling he looks at the empty black mug in front of Bloodgrue.

“Swab three docks and I will ignore my empty mug in front of you apprentice. I assume this old codger bet you, that you couldn’t finish it all?”

Bloodgrue frowns, frustrated as this is getting deep now. “Excuse me Dock Master, I was unaware this was your meal until after I had consumed it. Also, yes I was bet I couldn’t finish it.”

Bear smacks Ottar’s right shoulder firmly, “Yah, its Ottar’s joke on us. You choose three docks now to swab before godset Bloodgrue, and I will forget I am going hungry today. It seems Master Ottar thinks he is funny. But I tend to disagree. … Am I to understand that the single duster on the desk is all the coin you have?”

Bloodgrue lowers his head and nods, standing Bloodgrue knows the drill with swabbing the docks. Been here, done it before. Hoping to be able to choose three of the fixed docks, Bloodgrue picks up the old wooden bucket and wool head mop. Quickly heading to the door hoping not to be stopped.

“Hold it right there apprentice, you forgetting something?” asks Bear snidely.

Bloodgrue’s face flushes believing he is being assigned the free floaters, his most dread place to work or walk.

Bear picks up the single duster and offers it to Bloodgrue while saying in good humour, “This is yours, don’t leave it laying around if you only have one.”

Relieved, Bloodgrue accepts his only coin and heads outside to do his work.

The sound of the baritone flute is heard as Bloodgrue closes the dock master house’s door.

Safe outside now, Bloodgrue has four hours or so, to swab three docks of his choosing. Easy enough, Docks A, B and C are all fixed and those are his targets.

Bloodgrue smiles, humming the tune being played by pampalo Ottar.

Challenge contributions:

December 23 2014

mugChris – the mug is black

noodlesChris – the noodles look undercooked

winterChris – if it wasn’t for winter we would have hurricanes here

74Jason – Chris has noodles for brains

AutumnAlan – I wish Chris would stop checking me out

(c) 2014 Knights of the Square Table


Smile Desk duck

Summer  9 Bear

The breath from the gods howls extremely strong eastward, docking almost all barges. The scattered clouds cover only bits of the world here and there.

Bloodgrue looks at the door nervously before he is willing to make the signs to get in.

Ready, he makes the three signs and waits for the door to open.

The door opens and Bloodgrue immediately walks in the seven feet to the mark.

He waits patiently inside Arton’s warehouse, then hears the door behind him close securely.

A friendly voice addresses Bloodgrue. “So your second bounty kickback and not a bad one at that. The Fellow was happy to receive your information.”

Footsteps, light and well coordinated can be heard come around Bloodgrue’s right hand side.

Standing in front of Bloodgrue is one person with a lot of control and responsibility. Bloodgrue’s brother, Quartermaster of Guilds, Arton. Shorter beefier and balder than Bloodgrue, Arton makes up for his averageness with a strong personality.

Bloodgrue only was recently reunited rudely with Arton last season after sixteen years apart.

Arton shows no favoritism to Bloodgrue even though by the rules of all societies of the land saying he may do so.

Taping Bloodgrue’s shoulder Arton gives Bloodgrue an audience. Arton quickly waving Bloodgrue further into the cavernous warehouse.

The warehouse at over one hundred feet wide and more than two hundred and fifty feet long has its own society inside its walls. With laws and justice its own, even Royalty obeys these laws.

Royalty, nobles, guilds and city honor the rights of the Warehouse as long as all fees, taxes and tithes are kept paid up current.

Over at his appraising Desk the accounting duck, Relan smiles to Bloodgrue. Relan is both Master Appraiser and Chief Accountant to the Warehouse.

Bloodgrue and Arton walk over to Relan, at the desk Arton signals Relan.

Relan unlocks and opens an old wooden chest. He pulls out a brand new coin purse. Relan jiggles the purse creating a sound of jingling coins.

Relan smiles even bigger while tossing the purse to Bloodgrue. Calling out “Duck!” as his toss is slightly higher than he desired.

With the dexterity of a thief Bloodgrue catches the pouch. Finding a feeling of about one pound of coins he frowns.

Arton laughs, “Two thirds of the paid kickback as is your contract here. You want the full kickback go collect from your sponsors.”

Bloodgrue unceremoniously dumps the contents of the pouch onto Relan’s desk. Looking over the resulting spillage he counts the coins. Bloodgrue smiles, picking up a Dyns he tosses it to Relan, calling out, “Desk, duck.”

Relan ducks slightly while catching the coin.

The coins on the desk are two Royal Flair and five Dyns. A pay that most work a year to earn, yet it is only two thirds of his earning from one job that he earned a ten percent kickback from.

The Fellow earned thirty nine Royal Flairs on his bounty for the mark pointed out by Bloodgrue.

Only nobles, the city and guilds can afford such sums for a bounty on anything.

A few more of these payouts and Bloodgrue can sit back for a year without working, if he is willing to maintain current standards. Bloodgrue won’t be sitting back no matter how much he earns.

Turning to Arton with a smile, Bloodgrue states, “Your Desk duck here can hold the two Flairs in my account if that is okay?”

Both Arton and Relan chuckle as they know enough about Bloodgrue to know this is Relan’s new nickname as far as Bloodgrue is concerned. That suits all three men fine.

Both Arton and Relan answer Bloodgrue with a curt, “Done.”

Relan takes up the two coins and tucks them in a small marked drawer among thirty others in a cabinet near the appraising desk.

With his five Dyns Bloodgrue picks them up and puts them in his special coin pouch and tucks it back in place.

“Okay children I am off to the book maker. I have to record this for laughs and look for another mark.”

Bloodgrue walks to the exit waving to the workers as he readies to leave.

The Desk Duck is smiling as well, one Dyns richer for simply doing his job honestly.


Challenge contributions:

December 13 2014

smile Rhonda – I’m happy to be alive

deskKevin – I love working Saturdays with Rhonda

duckBradley – The sky Is the limit

9Rhonda – It’s going to be great

Summer Kevin – Mexico is hot


House person horse

Winter 49 Pine

The gods place scattered clouds in the sphere blowing on them lightly eastward. But it was not a fair indication of todays very cold morning. Phelep Mon is a royal freeze to Bloodgrue’s spirit if Bloodgrue ever met one.

Master is seeing fit to hire Bloodgrue to Phelps for a full Dyns just for today.

Bloodgrue recalls the location desired by master Phelep. But neither man can seem to like the other. Bloodgrue has this nasty urge to draw a line across Phelep’s forehead using the rusty dagger tucked in Bloodgrue’s waist band of his leggings.

Phelep for his part wants so little to do with Bloodgrue that Master can only negotiate a half days fee for the full days service.

Five in the morning Phelep is ready to walk south to his destination.

Bloodgrue knows they need to walk down Willow Road to get to 1356 Willow Road.

Pulling his old worn cloak tight closed around himself, Bloodgrue leads silently. Rarely checking to make sure if they are walking a decent pace for Phelep. Bloodgrue simply listens for the proper footsteps following the apprentice Dragoman.

In the five hour walk only three words are utter by either man, Phelep: ‘stop’, Bloodgrue: ‘no.’, Phelep: ‘please’.

Bloodgrue stops five minutes or less for Phelep to release his blader in the ditch along the street, Willow Road near an apple orchard. Bloodgrue barely allows Phelep time to fasten up his leggings afterward.

Bloodgrue kept a harder than normal pace going south during their journey. Upset that Phelep rejected Bloodgrue and that Pheleps had insisted on paying only a half fee for this time consuming job. As it is, it will be well after four PM when Bloodgrue arrives home.


Arriving at Talamar House Stable Bloodgrue finally stops to allow the two to rest.

Greeted by Anjar an older appearing Toyfem at the stable, there is still no love anywhere between Bloodgrue and the ones he is dealing with.

Anjar looks over his customer while frowning in distaste. The two begin final negotiations, for Phelep’s new horse to take west to District nine and return home. It turns out Phelep is House Arean’s, stable master and hates walking. Also Phelep has only basic understanding of horse buying etiquette showing this by the way he is going about the purchase.

The two settle upon a price of eighty five Royal Flairs for a two year old unbroken stallion.

Bloodgrue figures it is an ugly horse for an ugly person. Thus being a fair deal in Bloodgrue’s mind.

Once the deal is complete and Phelep is leading the young stallion, the three beings start the walk back north along Willow Road.

By the time it is after five in the evening, Bloodgrue is arriving home and the weather is still very cold in many ways.

Bloodgrue is no richer for the day of work and Master is only one Dyns enriched.

Bloodgrue leaves Phelep to his own powers the rest of Phelep’s  journey tonight.

This simply was a day in Bloodgrue’s work. Not a typical day but also not uncommon.

Challenge contribution:

December 11 2014

house – Donnalee Saffran – House & Home magazine

horseDonnalee Saffran – saddle and bridle

personDonnalee Saffran – pushy

WinterDonnalee Saffran – snow, frosty, cold

49Donnalee Saffran – Richard’s age


Aspirate sewing sword

Autumn 45 Pine

Weather changes as do events in life. For example today Bloodgrue earned a new degree of incite into another aspect of life in the world we live in.

On this partially cloudy day the cold light east winds are warmer than yesterdays freezing high winds. But the lesson today almost froze Bloodgrue’s soul.

He had been sent on an errand for Master and was on his way home from successfully completing the errand.

It had been a simple errand, a delivery of an unremarkable parcel. Not really a Dragoman’s work but it earned the Master a simple three dusters just to send Bloodgrue out to take the parcel to an easy to find location.

It is after evening meal and here Bloodgrue is in Orlantor District with a driving need to urinate and he has found a good hiding location in a back alley of Orlantor District’s slum ward called Derreck Town. A place similar to North Dock’s, West Madison Ward.

Dodging down the narrow ally Bloodgrue believes he is unseen, so relieves his bladder into the sewage channel.

As he fastens his waist on his leggings Bloodgrue hears a soul curdling sound. The dying aspirate breath of a man.

Turning and looking into the courtyard that was behind Bloodgrue he spots an odd sight. A super rare High Elf, there are less than one per twenty thousand people in Mount Oryn. The Elf is cleaning his longsword on the rags of a dead man. Lungs aspirated by the sword’s removal.

The elf then is sewing the  wound closed roughly, after having placed a foreign body inside the lungs of the dead man, the Elf seems unaware of Bloodgrue.

Then Bloodgrue gasps softly as he realises the elf had placed a live rat in the body cavity that he is sewing up with twine. The twine looks to be apparently made from intestines of some sort.

The elf spins towards Bloodgrue, sword drawn again and ready for use.

Bloodgrue is armed with a simple rusty dagger, concealed still in his waistband of his leggings.

The two look into each others eyes challenging each other. Looking into the elf’s oak green eyes Bloodgrue almost voids what little is in him now. The age behind those eyes is unfathomable for Bloodgrue, intelligence and wisdom that only comes from experience emanates from deep inside the eyes. Also an evilness that scares Bloodgrue more than anything has before.

Bloodgrue’s thought comes forth inside his mind, ‘I die today!’

Strangely the elf relaxes and utters in crystal clear Jalnoric, “What have you seen?”

Without much thought Bloodgrue blurts out, “You putting a living rat inside the lung chamber of a dead man and sewing the wound shut. That is all.”

Bloodgrue is so nervous and his mouth is so dry even though his reflex now is to swallow, he is unable to do so.

Standing straight Bloodgrue decides he is ready to die boldly, not simpering, begging or whining.

The Elf sheaths his sword while answering, “Good, then you should know this is a message from Tearmain, debtor’s who fail to pay on time will receive this fate.”

Bloodgrue drags through his memories of heraldry, but does not arrive at a Tearmain. “May I ask who or what Tearmain is?”

The elf calmly reaches inside his clean sea blue cotton tunic retrieving a small leather pouch which he tosses it to Bloodgrue answering, “Tearmain is Lord of Mount Oryn and will be Ruler of the Dominnion soon. Tell no one of this here for thirty days. If you feel a need to express this, do so in two seasons. You can now go home peasant boy. Remember what you saw here, any who cross Tearmain will have my sewing sword aspirate their lungs and a living rat sewn inside whether the person is dead or alive. Understand boy?”

Bloodgrue cautiously nods, then the elf nods sideways back down the alley and flicks his hand in that direction.

That is all the directions Bloodgrue needs. He quickly walks back out of the ally onto the street heading east to North Docks.


Bloodgrue still clutches the small leather pouch in the same hand as he caught it with, as he enters his room, seven hours later.

The Master is sleeping as it is after Godset and long well into the night.

Nervously Bloodgrue fumbles around lighting a candle, still not sure if the elf  had unintentionally been too slubber, or if he intentionally let Bloodgrue know he was there and know what he did. Either way it scares the seven hells out of Bloodgrue still.

Unfastening the draw strings on the pouch Bloodgrue can feel the coins inside. So he dumps the objects onto his bed. Out clinks four Royal Flairs. All his if he follows the instructions and remains silent. Count them, four Royal Flairs and the elf simply tossed them to Bloodgrue like they were lowly dusters. Damn!

Hastily returning the coins to the pouch Bloodgrue places the pouch in his concealed spot while trying to decide what to do with them. Hide them for now definitely.

Bloodgrue changes legging and washes up his mid region and lower as apparently it wasn’t an almost void in fear. He needs to do laundry tomorrow.

Cleaned up Bloodgrue gets into bed, head aching from the down side of the adrenalin rush crash he had experienced.

Bloodgrue needs to sleep off the pain now.

Four Royal Flairs? Damn! But at the cost of a man’s life and almost his own life.

The evilness in those eyes of the elf, Bloodgrue never wants to see again. Orlantor should be avoided certainly now.

Challenge Contributions:

November 28 2014

aspirate Alice – they had to aspirate my shoulder

sewingAlice – I am sewing a skirt

sword Alice – Sir Lancelot had a big sword

45Alice – 45 is a good number

AutumnAlice – Winter weather is wonderful


Enjoy this blog? Please spread the word :)