TinSoldier
12-06-2006, 01:22 AM
I'm going to post several backstories each in their own thread.
I'm not a very good fiction writer, but I will share these anyway. These are all characters in PBP games on a different board.
This character's backstory, in particular, is the first time I tried to use a lot of dialog. Unfortunately I never really finished it, and the game is now defunct. I may use this character again, however. Peck Kindlewood is a first-edition halfling thief. Oh, and before I wrote this I had never heard of Tasselhoff Burrfoot. Burrfoot just seemed like a likely name for a halfling.
There is some lame joking at the expense of The Hobbit and LotR here. Also you may notice a resemblance between Luke Skywalker and Ben Kenobi.
"...And so that's why I want to become an adventurer, Da'. Just like that Sackout fellah in the stories," Peck finished hopefully with a nervous smile on his face.
"Nonsense! Complete and utter nonsense!" his father, Peter Kindlewood, said around a mouthful of biscuit. "What's wrong with being a cooper like me? It's good honest work, making barrels for apples and ale and whatnot. Barrels, my boy! Barrels! That's where you can make your fortune. Just like me, and my father before me, and his father before him."
Marge Kindlewood laid a plate of eggs and a fresh pot of tea on the table. "Now don't go destroying the boy's dreams dear. Finish your second breakfast."
She wiped her hands on her apron and returned to the stove. "My father went on a few adventures when he was young."
"Yeah, and look how he turned out," Peter said taking a drink of tea. "He's as addlepated as they come! Don't go putting silly ideas into the boy's head.
"Peck, you have your chores to do. Then meet me at the shop. We've got a big order of barrels to finish for Farmer Grub." Peter pushed his stout body away from the table and got up to leave. "Now, I don't want to hear any more about this 'adventurer' nonsense!"
After her husband left, Marge came over to the table. "You know your father is right. Those adventures can be very dangerous. I certainly wouldn't want to lose my little Peck to some horrible monster out there somewhere.
"Your father is a very respectable halfling. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being a cooper, son. You could do a lot worse than following in his footsteps," she said.
"Now here, after your chores are finished take these muffins to your grandfather. I do so worry about him, living on the edge of town as he does. And all of those strange people always coming and going! It's enough to give the family a bad reputation." She gave Peck a little kiss on the cheek and went back to straigtening up the kitchen.
Peck got up from the table with a sigh and went outside to do his chores. It was a beautiful day in the Tallwillow Shire. After his chores were finished he put on his red hooded cloak and took the basket of muffins to go to his grandfather's house.
Walking along the wooded lane Peck was still dreaming about a life of adventure. Elves! Dwarves! And wicked monsters in need of smiting! Not to mention the treasure. Making barrels, indeed. He knew he would never be satisfied with that lot.
Grandfather Ben Burrfoot's cabin lay in a small clearing at the edge of town. The sunlight through the leaves made kaleidoscope patterns on the ground. As Peck approached the cabin he noticed that his grandfather's door was slightly open. He went forward and lightly pushed on it.
"Grandfather? It's me, Peck. Are you here?"
He heard a low growling noise come from the direction of Ben's bedroom. Two yellow eyes stared out at him.
"Tooth! Down boy!" hollered Ben Burrfoot as he walked out of the kitchen.
"He didn't scare ya, did he Peck? I was just gettin' some food for him. You know Farmer Grub's dog Tooth, don'tcha?." He gave the small mangy-looking dog a pat on the head as it came out of the bedroom to sniff and lick at Peck's hand.
"Naah, he didn't scare me," Peck lied waiting for his heartbeat to return to normal. "Mother sent these muffins for you, Grandfather," he said handing the basket over.
"I had that argument with my father again," he sighed.
"So, he shot you down again huh?" Ben asked. "Well we'll just have to see about that."
Ben took the basket of muffins into the kitchen and returned to the living room where he sat down in the overstuffed chair by the fireplace. "Go get that chest that's in my bedroom, under the bed. Bring it here."
Peck did as he was told, dragging the somewhat large (for a halfling) chest and placing it in front of his grandfather.
Ben gave Peck a hard look. "Now, if you can open that chest you can have what's inside of it."
"But what does that have to do with anything, Grandfather? How is that going to help me become an adventurer?" Peck asked skeptically.
The old halfling chuckled. "Why, for adventuring we halflings make the best burglars in the whole world! I thought you always enjoyed those stories about Silas Sackout and you ask me a question like that!"
Peck pondered that for a few seconds. Well, of course he wanted to be just like Silas Sackout! That was his personal hero. The way he saved those gnomes from the ogres and tricked a dragon in its own lair. Of course, Silas had that magic necklace of invisibility...
Peck then turned his attention to the chest. It was an old wooden chest banded with tarnished brass. The wood was blackened with tar to keep the moisture out and there was a small keyhole in the front. The hinges were iron and built into the chest in such a way that they could not easily be broken.
He pried a little bit at the lid, and it wouldn't give. Ben Burrfoot grinned approvingly at him but said nothing. Peck thought for a few more seconds.
"Do you have the key, Granda'?" he asked.
Ben gave a hearty laugh. "That's my boy! See, you're learnin' already! First you check to see if it's locked at all and then look for the obvious method of opening it. That's using your noodle!
"But... I'm not going to let you have it that easily. You're going to have to work a little bit harder. Here," he reached down beside his chair and tossed Peck a small leather pouch. "Try these"
I'm not a very good fiction writer, but I will share these anyway. These are all characters in PBP games on a different board.
This character's backstory, in particular, is the first time I tried to use a lot of dialog. Unfortunately I never really finished it, and the game is now defunct. I may use this character again, however. Peck Kindlewood is a first-edition halfling thief. Oh, and before I wrote this I had never heard of Tasselhoff Burrfoot. Burrfoot just seemed like a likely name for a halfling.
There is some lame joking at the expense of The Hobbit and LotR here. Also you may notice a resemblance between Luke Skywalker and Ben Kenobi.
"...And so that's why I want to become an adventurer, Da'. Just like that Sackout fellah in the stories," Peck finished hopefully with a nervous smile on his face.
"Nonsense! Complete and utter nonsense!" his father, Peter Kindlewood, said around a mouthful of biscuit. "What's wrong with being a cooper like me? It's good honest work, making barrels for apples and ale and whatnot. Barrels, my boy! Barrels! That's where you can make your fortune. Just like me, and my father before me, and his father before him."
Marge Kindlewood laid a plate of eggs and a fresh pot of tea on the table. "Now don't go destroying the boy's dreams dear. Finish your second breakfast."
She wiped her hands on her apron and returned to the stove. "My father went on a few adventures when he was young."
"Yeah, and look how he turned out," Peter said taking a drink of tea. "He's as addlepated as they come! Don't go putting silly ideas into the boy's head.
"Peck, you have your chores to do. Then meet me at the shop. We've got a big order of barrels to finish for Farmer Grub." Peter pushed his stout body away from the table and got up to leave. "Now, I don't want to hear any more about this 'adventurer' nonsense!"
After her husband left, Marge came over to the table. "You know your father is right. Those adventures can be very dangerous. I certainly wouldn't want to lose my little Peck to some horrible monster out there somewhere.
"Your father is a very respectable halfling. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being a cooper, son. You could do a lot worse than following in his footsteps," she said.
"Now here, after your chores are finished take these muffins to your grandfather. I do so worry about him, living on the edge of town as he does. And all of those strange people always coming and going! It's enough to give the family a bad reputation." She gave Peck a little kiss on the cheek and went back to straigtening up the kitchen.
Peck got up from the table with a sigh and went outside to do his chores. It was a beautiful day in the Tallwillow Shire. After his chores were finished he put on his red hooded cloak and took the basket of muffins to go to his grandfather's house.
Walking along the wooded lane Peck was still dreaming about a life of adventure. Elves! Dwarves! And wicked monsters in need of smiting! Not to mention the treasure. Making barrels, indeed. He knew he would never be satisfied with that lot.
Grandfather Ben Burrfoot's cabin lay in a small clearing at the edge of town. The sunlight through the leaves made kaleidoscope patterns on the ground. As Peck approached the cabin he noticed that his grandfather's door was slightly open. He went forward and lightly pushed on it.
"Grandfather? It's me, Peck. Are you here?"
He heard a low growling noise come from the direction of Ben's bedroom. Two yellow eyes stared out at him.
"Tooth! Down boy!" hollered Ben Burrfoot as he walked out of the kitchen.
"He didn't scare ya, did he Peck? I was just gettin' some food for him. You know Farmer Grub's dog Tooth, don'tcha?." He gave the small mangy-looking dog a pat on the head as it came out of the bedroom to sniff and lick at Peck's hand.
"Naah, he didn't scare me," Peck lied waiting for his heartbeat to return to normal. "Mother sent these muffins for you, Grandfather," he said handing the basket over.
"I had that argument with my father again," he sighed.
"So, he shot you down again huh?" Ben asked. "Well we'll just have to see about that."
Ben took the basket of muffins into the kitchen and returned to the living room where he sat down in the overstuffed chair by the fireplace. "Go get that chest that's in my bedroom, under the bed. Bring it here."
Peck did as he was told, dragging the somewhat large (for a halfling) chest and placing it in front of his grandfather.
Ben gave Peck a hard look. "Now, if you can open that chest you can have what's inside of it."
"But what does that have to do with anything, Grandfather? How is that going to help me become an adventurer?" Peck asked skeptically.
The old halfling chuckled. "Why, for adventuring we halflings make the best burglars in the whole world! I thought you always enjoyed those stories about Silas Sackout and you ask me a question like that!"
Peck pondered that for a few seconds. Well, of course he wanted to be just like Silas Sackout! That was his personal hero. The way he saved those gnomes from the ogres and tricked a dragon in its own lair. Of course, Silas had that magic necklace of invisibility...
Peck then turned his attention to the chest. It was an old wooden chest banded with tarnished brass. The wood was blackened with tar to keep the moisture out and there was a small keyhole in the front. The hinges were iron and built into the chest in such a way that they could not easily be broken.
He pried a little bit at the lid, and it wouldn't give. Ben Burrfoot grinned approvingly at him but said nothing. Peck thought for a few more seconds.
"Do you have the key, Granda'?" he asked.
Ben gave a hearty laugh. "That's my boy! See, you're learnin' already! First you check to see if it's locked at all and then look for the obvious method of opening it. That's using your noodle!
"But... I'm not going to let you have it that easily. You're going to have to work a little bit harder. Here," he reached down beside his chair and tossed Peck a small leather pouch. "Try these"