Skip navigation

Previous Page (B14). This is page B147 of the Barbarian Story. This is your second life (the Troll Story ended poorly.) If you are confused go back to the start. If you want a different story make poor choices until you die or excellent choices until you win.

As you prepare to descend, on the floor behind the desk you see a small metal knife. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing, and the cold metal between your teeth is comforting as you begin descending the outside of the building. A quick look reveals the exterior of the building to be smooth, but there is a small vertical abutment to the right. A precarious leap and grab almost ends in tragedy, but you manage to grab both sides of the pillar, and it doesn’t really matter that you aren’t able to maintain a grip, you’re at least able to slow your fall and by the time you do lose your grip you are not far off the ground at all.

Many of the peasants have gathered outside milling around near an orderly grouping of boxes in a variety of colors. Several of them have gathered close to gawk at the corpse, but they flee in terror as you approach, several dropping shiny black magic boxes. Your defeated foe has little in the way of appropriate trophies. No horns or tusks. No bepoisened claws or venomous fangs. You settle for his ponytail which he was inordinately proud of. The knife you found turns out to be less sharp than any self respecting barbarian  would allow, and it takes almost a minute to cut the trophy free. As you stand you see flashes of light in the distance, and can hear the braying of some mournful beast approaching.

CHOICE (B147)1 Finally a worthy foe, I will wait and face it unarmed. Be it sorcerer or demon, I shall slay it.

CHOICE (B147)2 This knife is no weapon. I call up to one of the peasants staring from the bosses lair to throw down my axe.

CHOICE (B147)3 Surely there must be a weapon around here somewhere.

CHOICE (B147)4 Unarmed is no way to meet an unknown foe. I’ll see shelter until I know what new threat approaches.


One Comment

  1. (B147)4

    I’ve never heard this strange wailing, so I’d best beware this new foe of unknown might. I’ll need to be ready to fight my hardest or to avoid the fight completely. I can’t count on these peasants to give me my axe in time (or at all) and this knife turned out to be so pathetic that I’d better not count on being able to find a good weapon at such short notice. I’ll bide my time until I know more and am better armed.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *