Modifié par Addai67, 07 décembre 2010 - 05:15 .
Why Teyrn Loghain is the deepest character in Dragon Age
Débuté par
Irish Guerrilla
, août 15 2010 05:21
#6376
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 05:15
Addai
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Right. So. I think we can all agree that such Orlesian perversions have no business here! Just the old-fashioned sort of perversions.
Retour en haut
#6377
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 05:22
alschemid
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My words exactly!!roundcrow wrote...
What. The. Holy. F***.
By the Maker... no mutations... no mutations, please!!
#6378
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 05:22
Skadi_the_Evil_Elf
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Nothing Orlesian about Moob-istair...he defies the laws of the space-time continum.
:wub:
Must go get screenie of Banana-ghain.
:wub: Must go get screenie of Banana-ghain.
#6379
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 05:22
roundcrow
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There should be a waiting period and a background check before you can buy a copy of Photoshop.
#6380
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 05:25
DragonRacer13
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Skadi_the_Evil_Elf wrote...
Addai67 wrote...
If someone makes a Loghainicorn, I'll join KoP in boycotting the thread.
Moob-ghain and Logh-corn are out of the question. Only Alistair's awesomeness can fill those shoes, it would be sheer blasphemy to allow otherwise.
Now, Pimp-ghain, Banana-ghain, and Loggy-Claus, on the other hand....
Loggy-Claus would be hilarious. And I would have to direct Mary Kirby to it. I randomly messaged her about something one time, and I was mentioning how folks blame Loghain for everything under the sun up to and possibly including being the sole reason the Grinch actually stole Christmas... and she thought that it would actually be quite fabulous if Loghain was that driving reason behind the Grinch.
So, someone make this pic happen. Loggy-Claus with a Grinch involved somehow. Then maybe we could attract Mary with that shiny long enough to get a pearl or two of Loggy trivia out of her before the Clan of Varric sucks her back into the DA 2 forums.
#6381
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 05:37
Skadi_the_Evil_Elf
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@Dragon Racer. Yeah! Loggy-Claus would be epic, epecially if he is featured sat on a Christmas throne, looking quite sour and menacing. YUM!!!!!!!!!!
And now, Banana-Ghain!
Uploaded with ImageShack.us
And now, Banana-Ghain!
Uploaded with ImageShack.us
#6383
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 05:54
KnightofPhoenix
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Skadi_the_Evil_Elf wrote...
KnightofPhoenix wrote...
In such a new environement, I really don't know how to contribute to this thread.
Pheh. You've seen and survived much worse in the Alistair thread. Of course you know how to contribute!
I mean, it's not like were developing Loghain mutations.....yet.
That was Alistair.
I respect Loghain too much to do the same thing.
#6384
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 05:55
Skadi_the_Evil_Elf
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Zjarcal wrote...
Banana-Ghain!! Holy crap!
For a second I thought you had actually manipulated a picture like this one to include his face... *shudders*
Nah, just used Winter Forge and universal dye kit. I can't do squat with photoshop and stuff.
#6385
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 05:56
Skadi_the_Evil_Elf
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KnightofPhoenix wrote...
That was Alistair.
I respect Loghain too much to do the same thing.
And I respect him too much to NOT do the same.
#6386
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 05:56
Giggles_Manically
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Hey he is the one who said "There is nothing I would not do for my country"KnightofPhoenix wrote...
Skadi_the_Evil_Elf wrote...
KnightofPhoenix wrote...
In such a new environement, I really don't know how to contribute to this thread.
Pheh. You've seen and survived much worse in the Alistair thread. Of course you know how to contribute!
I mean, it's not like were developing Loghain mutations.....yet.
That was Alistair.
I respect Loghain too much to do the same thing.
Too bad Skadi heard him say that...
#6387
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 05:57
Sarah1281
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You know, this reminds me: When was the last time the Alithread was graced with the majesty that is the Alicorn?
#6388
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 05:59
Skadi_the_Evil_Elf
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Sarah1281 wrote...
You know, this reminds me: When was the last time the Alithread was graced with the majesty that is the Alicorn?
Not as long as it has lacked the awesomeness that is Moob-istair.
#6389
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 06:00
Giggles_Manically
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LET ME DO IT! PLEASE!!!!
#6390
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 06:02
Skadi_the_Evil_Elf
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Giggles_Manically wrote...
LET ME DO IT! PLEASE!!!!
Your request is granted.
#6391
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 06:03
Giggles_Manically
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Goody.Skadi_the_Evil_Elf wrote...
Giggles_Manically wrote...
LET ME DO IT! PLEASE!!!!
Your request is granted.
Bombs away in 2 minutes.
#6392
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 06:05
Sarah1281
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You're such a giver.Giggles_Manically wrote...
Goody.Skadi_the_Evil_Elf wrote...
Giggles_Manically wrote...
LET ME DO IT! PLEASE!!!!
Your request is granted.
Bombs away in 2 minutes.
Also, now I'm really tempted to write a Loghain-Grinch one-shot. Christmas is an Orlesian holiday, you know.
#6393
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 06:08
Giggles_Manically
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@Sarah
Will the Warden make Loghain's heart grow 10 sizes +2?
Will the Warden make Loghain's heart grow 10 sizes +2?
#6394
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 06:09
Skadi_the_Evil_Elf
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Sarah1281 wrote...
You're such a giver.
Also, now I'm really tempted to write a Loghain-Grinch one-shot. Christmas is an Orlesian holiday, you know.
Oh, yes, do it! I wanna see Loghain go on a Christmas display smashing rampage in Denerim! And make some little snot nosed fat kids cry because they aren't getting a shiny new bike for Christmas!
Edit to add: I think I might give it a shot as well. This thread needs some un-Christmasy cheer.
Modifié par Skadi_the_Evil_Elf, 07 décembre 2010 - 06:19 .
#6395
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 06:55
Sarah1281
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How the Loghain Stole Christmas
Naturally, it was all Loghain’s fault although with his daughter one of the most celebrated Queens ever, this fact somehow never made itself into the public consciousness of the people of Ferelden.
The parents of Théodore Grinch had moved from Orlais to Ferelden when little Théodore was just five during the last days of the rebellion and, finding the country so very agreeable, decided to stay when most of their countrymen left. It was difficult at first to get past the mistrust and outright hostility on the part of their Ferelden-born neighbors but eventually they were accepted in the community at large.
They loved their new home but also felt that it was important to keep the spirit of their Orlesian heritage alive. Théodore especially loved to share his ways with those around him, particularly after his parents died and he became the sole Grinch in Ferelden.
One of the most important Orlesian celebrations was a holiday late in the month of Haring called ‘Christmas.’ Ferelden hadn’t celebrated Christmas prior to the occupation but it was just one of those things, like horses and fashion, that had stayed with the newly independent nation and Grinch couldn’t have been happier.
Until…one year the ruler of Ferelden – Teyrn and Regent Loghain Mac Tir – decided that Christmas was far too Orlesian to be celebrated by proper Fereldens and banned the holiday. Grinch, living in Denerim by that time, was horrified.
“A year without Christmas?” he had cried out. “How can this be?”
“D-does this mean that we won’t get any presents?” one of the children, Cindy Loo, asked as tears brimmed in her eyes. “And no feast? We won’t get to sing songs or get a giant Christmas tree?”
Grinch didn’t know what to say. He knew that Loghain didn’t like the Orlesians or anything to do with them. EVERYONE knew that. Just the same, to ban a holiday that was such a huge part of the Gwaren economy at this time a year (for everyone had to have a Gwaren tree) because he was holding a thirty-year grudge seemed a little extreme, to say the least. And how could you go around banning Christmas anyway?
“You can’t ban it,” he realized. “Christmas will come, whether Teyrn Loghain likes it or not.”
All of the children cheered and the Grinch continued on with his usual holiday preparations…just a little more discrete this year since he was planning to openly celebrate a banned holiday in the nation’s capital where Teyrn Loghain was currently residing.
Surely, though, surely he’d be reasonable when he saw how much it meant to the children? It’s not like Christmas was some Orlesian plot to re-conquer Ferelden, after all. Still, Grinch couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that something was going to go dreadfully wrong as the twenty-fifth day of Haring drew ever-closer.
Then, finally, Christmas arrived.
There was really no point in trying to hide it from the regent. There was the biggest tree the Grinch had ever seen in the center of the Denerim marketplace with lights and ornaments adorning it and making it perfectly clear what it’s purpose was. There were mountains of wrapped presents resting under the tree and various other Christmas decorations everywhere the eye could see.
The food smelled so good that Grinch found that he had a hard time waiting for it to be feast-time but somehow he made it. He and what must have been half of Denerim sat down for their feast and – after first thanking the Maker for their wonderful feast – the Grinch was just cutting the roast-beast when pandemonium broke out.
Soldiers were everywhere, smashing decorations and overturning tables. The presents were crushed underneath their feet and someone lit the Christmas tree on fire! Grinch didn’t understand. What was going on? Why would the soldiers-
Someone grabbed him and dragged him along to a figure waiting in the back of the crowd. Grinch had lived in Denerim for long enough to recognize Teyrn Loghain on sight.
“Well, well, well,” Loghain drawled. “If it isn’t the rabble-rouser himself. Tell me, Mr. Grinch…you’re Orlesian, aren’t you?”
“I’m Ferelden,” Grinch insisted, though his accent made Loghain’s eyes narrow.
“Are you?” he asked dryly. “I find that very difficult to believe. Tell me: Orlesian or not, did you or did you not realize that I had banned Christmas?”
What could he say? “I did,” he said defiantly.
“And yet you thought that you could celebrate it anyway and, what’s more, that you could lead the good people of Denerim into participating in your crime?” Loghain asked rhetorically. “You can’t deny that I gave you fair warning.”
“It’s a stupid law!” Grinch burst out. “You can’t just ban Christmas. Even if you take away all the presents and the lights and the tree and the feast and- and everything else, Christmas will come just the same no matter what you or anyone else has to say about it!”
Loghain smiled grimly. “We shall see. Guards, take him away.”
And they did take Grinch away. He was supposed to have been taken to Fort Drakon but money had exchanged hands and he had been taken instead to the personal dungeon of the Arl of Denerim where he stayed for many months. The Arl, Rendon Howe, had his own private mages that liked to experiment on the prisoners in their free time and – far from minding – Howe seemed almost to encourage the practice. Somehow, they’d managed to turn Grinch green and they hadn’t been able to reverse the process yet.
One day, a dwarf, two humans, and an elf came by his cell. They’d asked for his story and he’d told it. One of them looked furious and muttered something about adding this to his ‘list’ and they’d let him out.
It was kind of them, Grinch supposed, but he wasn’t sure what to do then. He no longer loved Ferelden but he didn’t want to go back to Orlais, either. He could go travelling, he supposed, and see what lay beyond the known countries of Thedas.
One thing he knew for certain was that, after all those months of being tortured and experimented on while he’d been imprisoned, he absolutely hated Christmas.
He’d go somewhere far away where there was no Christmas and live out the rest of his days in peace. And if he couldn’t find a place without Christmas then he would simply stop it from coming. After all, if Teyrn Loghain could do it, why couldn’t he?
Naturally, it was all Loghain’s fault although with his daughter one of the most celebrated Queens ever, this fact somehow never made itself into the public consciousness of the people of Ferelden.
The parents of Théodore Grinch had moved from Orlais to Ferelden when little Théodore was just five during the last days of the rebellion and, finding the country so very agreeable, decided to stay when most of their countrymen left. It was difficult at first to get past the mistrust and outright hostility on the part of their Ferelden-born neighbors but eventually they were accepted in the community at large.
They loved their new home but also felt that it was important to keep the spirit of their Orlesian heritage alive. Théodore especially loved to share his ways with those around him, particularly after his parents died and he became the sole Grinch in Ferelden.
One of the most important Orlesian celebrations was a holiday late in the month of Haring called ‘Christmas.’ Ferelden hadn’t celebrated Christmas prior to the occupation but it was just one of those things, like horses and fashion, that had stayed with the newly independent nation and Grinch couldn’t have been happier.
Until…one year the ruler of Ferelden – Teyrn and Regent Loghain Mac Tir – decided that Christmas was far too Orlesian to be celebrated by proper Fereldens and banned the holiday. Grinch, living in Denerim by that time, was horrified.
“A year without Christmas?” he had cried out. “How can this be?”
“D-does this mean that we won’t get any presents?” one of the children, Cindy Loo, asked as tears brimmed in her eyes. “And no feast? We won’t get to sing songs or get a giant Christmas tree?”
Grinch didn’t know what to say. He knew that Loghain didn’t like the Orlesians or anything to do with them. EVERYONE knew that. Just the same, to ban a holiday that was such a huge part of the Gwaren economy at this time a year (for everyone had to have a Gwaren tree) because he was holding a thirty-year grudge seemed a little extreme, to say the least. And how could you go around banning Christmas anyway?
“You can’t ban it,” he realized. “Christmas will come, whether Teyrn Loghain likes it or not.”
All of the children cheered and the Grinch continued on with his usual holiday preparations…just a little more discrete this year since he was planning to openly celebrate a banned holiday in the nation’s capital where Teyrn Loghain was currently residing.
Surely, though, surely he’d be reasonable when he saw how much it meant to the children? It’s not like Christmas was some Orlesian plot to re-conquer Ferelden, after all. Still, Grinch couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that something was going to go dreadfully wrong as the twenty-fifth day of Haring drew ever-closer.
Then, finally, Christmas arrived.
There was really no point in trying to hide it from the regent. There was the biggest tree the Grinch had ever seen in the center of the Denerim marketplace with lights and ornaments adorning it and making it perfectly clear what it’s purpose was. There were mountains of wrapped presents resting under the tree and various other Christmas decorations everywhere the eye could see.
The food smelled so good that Grinch found that he had a hard time waiting for it to be feast-time but somehow he made it. He and what must have been half of Denerim sat down for their feast and – after first thanking the Maker for their wonderful feast – the Grinch was just cutting the roast-beast when pandemonium broke out.
Soldiers were everywhere, smashing decorations and overturning tables. The presents were crushed underneath their feet and someone lit the Christmas tree on fire! Grinch didn’t understand. What was going on? Why would the soldiers-
Someone grabbed him and dragged him along to a figure waiting in the back of the crowd. Grinch had lived in Denerim for long enough to recognize Teyrn Loghain on sight.
“Well, well, well,” Loghain drawled. “If it isn’t the rabble-rouser himself. Tell me, Mr. Grinch…you’re Orlesian, aren’t you?”
“I’m Ferelden,” Grinch insisted, though his accent made Loghain’s eyes narrow.
“Are you?” he asked dryly. “I find that very difficult to believe. Tell me: Orlesian or not, did you or did you not realize that I had banned Christmas?”
What could he say? “I did,” he said defiantly.
“And yet you thought that you could celebrate it anyway and, what’s more, that you could lead the good people of Denerim into participating in your crime?” Loghain asked rhetorically. “You can’t deny that I gave you fair warning.”
“It’s a stupid law!” Grinch burst out. “You can’t just ban Christmas. Even if you take away all the presents and the lights and the tree and the feast and- and everything else, Christmas will come just the same no matter what you or anyone else has to say about it!”
Loghain smiled grimly. “We shall see. Guards, take him away.”
And they did take Grinch away. He was supposed to have been taken to Fort Drakon but money had exchanged hands and he had been taken instead to the personal dungeon of the Arl of Denerim where he stayed for many months. The Arl, Rendon Howe, had his own private mages that liked to experiment on the prisoners in their free time and – far from minding – Howe seemed almost to encourage the practice. Somehow, they’d managed to turn Grinch green and they hadn’t been able to reverse the process yet.
One day, a dwarf, two humans, and an elf came by his cell. They’d asked for his story and he’d told it. One of them looked furious and muttered something about adding this to his ‘list’ and they’d let him out.
It was kind of them, Grinch supposed, but he wasn’t sure what to do then. He no longer loved Ferelden but he didn’t want to go back to Orlais, either. He could go travelling, he supposed, and see what lay beyond the known countries of Thedas.
One thing he knew for certain was that, after all those months of being tortured and experimented on while he’d been imprisoned, he absolutely hated Christmas.
He’d go somewhere far away where there was no Christmas and live out the rest of his days in peace. And if he couldn’t find a place without Christmas then he would simply stop it from coming. After all, if Teyrn Loghain could do it, why couldn’t he?
#6396
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 07:15
Giggles_Manically
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@Sarah:
Excellent work as usual.
Excellent work as usual.
#6397
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 07:30
Skadi_the_Evil_Elf
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Part 1
Denerim palace:
The rich smells of spiced cakes and roasted goose permeated the royal palace, accentuating the bright melododic harmonies of carols and laughter. Sparkling baubles hung from garlands of holly and spruce, glittering merrily in the firelight of numerous gilded candles. Ferelden's royal palace radiated cheer and good will towards men.
Loghain could barely supress the urge to vomit.
"F*ck Christmas", he muttered as he took a deep swig of of the black, oily dwarven ale. He refused to partake in the ginger beer and mulled wine Anora was no doubt generously passing around to her guests, just as he refused to attend the feast, exchange gifts, or wish anyone good health and fortune for the season.
Loghain hated Christmas. He always had. All his adult life, he had
wanted just one thing, a nifty lazer pointer that he could use for his
maps in his warroom. He had always imagined how awed and impressed his
staff would be as he cleverly maneuvered the little red dot across
printed landscapes of Ferelden, Tevinter, and Orlais. If I had a lazer pointer, then I'd feel like a REAL general! he
mused. But Christmas after Christmas, it was the same crap: ugly
sweaters that didn't fit, tacky cheap socks made by slave labor in
qunari work camps, or fruitcake so vile he wouldn't force it down even
Meghren's throat if the poncy little son of a b*tch was still alive. He
coul;d have tolerated it, had someone, just onjce, got him a lazer
pointer. But no one did. Not even Maric or Rowan, his best friends.
He violently poked the logs in the fireplace with his swordt, enjoying the rain of embers and ash. I'd like to see all these blasted Christmas decorations erupt in flames as well, he thought bitterly. The idea left a warm, glowing feeling inside that rivaled the heat of the fire. It was the first thought in the whole season that cheered him.
The glowing feelings weren't to last long, however, as he heard heavy bootfalls and an irritated huff behind him. He did not even need to turn to see who had interrupted his joyous solace, he could tell by the agnry stomping it was Alistair. And now I'm going to be berated by my idiot son-in-law, he thought as he took another deep draught.
"Still here, I see," Alistair began dryly. "I was actually hoping you had left for somewhere else to spend Christmas. You know, Gwaren, Antiva, or just some random gutter to do die in, preferably. So much for Christmas wishes coming true."
"Gah!" Loghain growled. "Don't you have something better to do? Why don't you run along and go play with your new golem doll that Eamon bought you and leave me alone!" Andraste's ass, the last thing I want is Maric's idiot bastard trying to inflict Christmas spirit on me!
"Oh, believe me, I would, except your nag of a daughter won't leave me in peace because Daddy Dear is sulking in his room getting stinking drunk instead of enjoying boiled goose entrails with the rest of us," Alistair retorted. "Believe me, I'd leave you to your misery gladly, so at least MY Christmas might be remotely merry. But since Anora is queen, and I can't execute her for her nails-on-chalkboard screeching, I instead have to deliver a message to you: Get your ass down for dinner, or else." With that, Alistair marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
How Maric managed to sire not one, but two idiot sons is a mystery that shall torment me until death, Loghain thought darkly as he lifted himself from his seat, grabbing the chair arm to steady himself as the dwarven ale kicked in full force.
he contemplated briefly attending the feast to placate Anora, but as he passed the palace doors, he smiled. Bah, f*ck em', let em all choke on their roast goose and gingerbread men. I'm going into denerim proper to get roaring drunk and bash the skull of the first pr*ck I see wearing a Santa hat! Ha! They can take their Christmas cheer and shove it where the Maker's glory don't shine!
Feeling exceptionally good, Loghain strolled out of the palace grounds and headed for Denerim market. On his way, he found entertainment in ripping down strings of Christmas lights and kicking snowmen into unrecognizable shapes. "Ha! Now THIS is some serious season cheer!" he laughed as he skewered a gayly decorated snowman, much to the horror of the family of elves who were watching.
Denerim market was thriving. He pushed revelers out of the way roughly as he made his way to the central Christmas display. Loghain snickered, and relieved himself in the communal vat of spiced cider, much to the horror of the dwarf ladeling out mugs of the steaming drink to patrons. A threatening glance stalled any intention of retaliation on the dwarf's part.
A fat child wrapped in layers of warm wools ran up to him and handed him a candy cane. "Merry Christmas!" the brat squeaked happily. "Hope Santa Brings you something good!"
Loghain snorted, and taking the candy cane, he threw it on the ground and smashed it to pieces. "Santa isn't bringing me, or you, or ANYONE presents for Christmas!" he laughed. "Santa is a dirty orlesian pervert and spy." He leaned in and whispered to the child "I had him executed in Ft. Drakon on the racks. Santa is dead. Queen Anora is roasting his reindeer as we speak to feed to the palace marbari! There will be no Christmas for you this year, you porky little sh*t!"
The horrified boy ran off screaming and sobbing, and Loghain could not help but chuckle. I think I really could get into this Christmas spirit now!"
He headed to the gnawed noble and ordered the foulest, strongest whiskey in stock, and proceeded to drink three pints of it before he was thrown out for vomiting all over Lady Hebren's very expensive Orlesian silk gown and punching Bann Ceorlic in the face for the hell of it.
He considered heading to the Pearl and finding himself a nice big pair of boobs to flop his head on and sleep off the booze, but the town Christmas display caught his eye. It's presence offended him, and as he glared at the assortment of brightly wrapped gifts beneath the tree, he was certain that none of them was a lazer pointer with his name on it. Well, if I can't get what i want for Christmas, no one will! He smirked, and decided to wait until everyone went home for the night.
Denerim palace:
The rich smells of spiced cakes and roasted goose permeated the royal palace, accentuating the bright melododic harmonies of carols and laughter. Sparkling baubles hung from garlands of holly and spruce, glittering merrily in the firelight of numerous gilded candles. Ferelden's royal palace radiated cheer and good will towards men.
Loghain could barely supress the urge to vomit.
"F*ck Christmas", he muttered as he took a deep swig of of the black, oily dwarven ale. He refused to partake in the ginger beer and mulled wine Anora was no doubt generously passing around to her guests, just as he refused to attend the feast, exchange gifts, or wish anyone good health and fortune for the season.
Loghain hated Christmas. He always had. All his adult life, he had
wanted just one thing, a nifty lazer pointer that he could use for his
maps in his warroom. He had always imagined how awed and impressed his
staff would be as he cleverly maneuvered the little red dot across
printed landscapes of Ferelden, Tevinter, and Orlais. If I had a lazer pointer, then I'd feel like a REAL general! he
mused. But Christmas after Christmas, it was the same crap: ugly
sweaters that didn't fit, tacky cheap socks made by slave labor in
qunari work camps, or fruitcake so vile he wouldn't force it down even
Meghren's throat if the poncy little son of a b*tch was still alive. He
coul;d have tolerated it, had someone, just onjce, got him a lazer
pointer. But no one did. Not even Maric or Rowan, his best friends.
He violently poked the logs in the fireplace with his swordt, enjoying the rain of embers and ash. I'd like to see all these blasted Christmas decorations erupt in flames as well, he thought bitterly. The idea left a warm, glowing feeling inside that rivaled the heat of the fire. It was the first thought in the whole season that cheered him.
The glowing feelings weren't to last long, however, as he heard heavy bootfalls and an irritated huff behind him. He did not even need to turn to see who had interrupted his joyous solace, he could tell by the agnry stomping it was Alistair. And now I'm going to be berated by my idiot son-in-law, he thought as he took another deep draught.
"Still here, I see," Alistair began dryly. "I was actually hoping you had left for somewhere else to spend Christmas. You know, Gwaren, Antiva, or just some random gutter to do die in, preferably. So much for Christmas wishes coming true."
"Gah!" Loghain growled. "Don't you have something better to do? Why don't you run along and go play with your new golem doll that Eamon bought you and leave me alone!" Andraste's ass, the last thing I want is Maric's idiot bastard trying to inflict Christmas spirit on me!
"Oh, believe me, I would, except your nag of a daughter won't leave me in peace because Daddy Dear is sulking in his room getting stinking drunk instead of enjoying boiled goose entrails with the rest of us," Alistair retorted. "Believe me, I'd leave you to your misery gladly, so at least MY Christmas might be remotely merry. But since Anora is queen, and I can't execute her for her nails-on-chalkboard screeching, I instead have to deliver a message to you: Get your ass down for dinner, or else." With that, Alistair marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
How Maric managed to sire not one, but two idiot sons is a mystery that shall torment me until death, Loghain thought darkly as he lifted himself from his seat, grabbing the chair arm to steady himself as the dwarven ale kicked in full force.
he contemplated briefly attending the feast to placate Anora, but as he passed the palace doors, he smiled. Bah, f*ck em', let em all choke on their roast goose and gingerbread men. I'm going into denerim proper to get roaring drunk and bash the skull of the first pr*ck I see wearing a Santa hat! Ha! They can take their Christmas cheer and shove it where the Maker's glory don't shine!
Feeling exceptionally good, Loghain strolled out of the palace grounds and headed for Denerim market. On his way, he found entertainment in ripping down strings of Christmas lights and kicking snowmen into unrecognizable shapes. "Ha! Now THIS is some serious season cheer!" he laughed as he skewered a gayly decorated snowman, much to the horror of the family of elves who were watching.
Denerim market was thriving. He pushed revelers out of the way roughly as he made his way to the central Christmas display. Loghain snickered, and relieved himself in the communal vat of spiced cider, much to the horror of the dwarf ladeling out mugs of the steaming drink to patrons. A threatening glance stalled any intention of retaliation on the dwarf's part.
A fat child wrapped in layers of warm wools ran up to him and handed him a candy cane. "Merry Christmas!" the brat squeaked happily. "Hope Santa Brings you something good!"
Loghain snorted, and taking the candy cane, he threw it on the ground and smashed it to pieces. "Santa isn't bringing me, or you, or ANYONE presents for Christmas!" he laughed. "Santa is a dirty orlesian pervert and spy." He leaned in and whispered to the child "I had him executed in Ft. Drakon on the racks. Santa is dead. Queen Anora is roasting his reindeer as we speak to feed to the palace marbari! There will be no Christmas for you this year, you porky little sh*t!"
The horrified boy ran off screaming and sobbing, and Loghain could not help but chuckle. I think I really could get into this Christmas spirit now!"
He headed to the gnawed noble and ordered the foulest, strongest whiskey in stock, and proceeded to drink three pints of it before he was thrown out for vomiting all over Lady Hebren's very expensive Orlesian silk gown and punching Bann Ceorlic in the face for the hell of it.
He considered heading to the Pearl and finding himself a nice big pair of boobs to flop his head on and sleep off the booze, but the town Christmas display caught his eye. It's presence offended him, and as he glared at the assortment of brightly wrapped gifts beneath the tree, he was certain that none of them was a lazer pointer with his name on it. Well, if I can't get what i want for Christmas, no one will! He smirked, and decided to wait until everyone went home for the night.
#6398
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 07:46
Addai
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- Members
- 25 850 messages
LOL I 
LoggyClaus!
It could be because I want to find a corner and hide this time every year.
LoggyClaus!It could be because I want to find a corner and hide this time every year.
#6400
Posté 07 décembre 2010 - 08:09
CalJones
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- Members
- 3 205 messages
Poor Loghain. He is far too dignified for these sorts of shenanigans.
