'Souls RPG

Full Version: it's contrary to what we want
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Another dawn, another day of Orm being an absolute demon. The small corral Mads had constructed to keep the ram in, for he was not to be trusted like the ewes who roamed free, was a total pigsty and it desperately needed cleaning. There was no snow anymore in the small pen, it had long since given way to a swamp of mud and literal crap since the Dane was always putting off the task of wrestling with the ornery creature. Mads could entirely see why the old books made the devil out to be a horned, cloven-footed monstrosity, while most ram's he'd taken care of were only a mild challenge at the worst of times, Orm seemed to have taken it upon himself to be the worst he could be. Like a certain wizard prodigy who didn't exist in this post-apocalyptic timeline, the ram wrestling scar on his forehead ached as he considered how best to tackle the task.

Behind him, his faithful cow, white as snow, nosed at his empty hand, which dangling limply at his side as he stood facing the festering corral. In his other hand stood the only thing that would stop Orm from pestering him constantly as he clambered over the reinforced fence and attempted to tie the hellish ram fast to the post that stood at one corner of the corral. There was no doing this chore without securing Orm unless Mads wanted to risk breaking his legs and so with great trepidation, the swarthy hybrid clambered over the fence and braced for impact...