Stout Henry

Stout Henry pulled the blade of the staff from Farmer Jonas’ chest. The crowd of Cotsberry competitors, families and fans from the small farming town were silent, but for some weeping. “Did ya SEE THAT?” yelled Stout Henry. “Circle Strafe Left, Disarming Block, Crushing Blow and Swift Impale, 1 2 3 4 and it was OVAH!” He looked around at the crowd of silent people. “Well, come on,” said Henry. “I won! I mean, aren’t you glad you found out what a noob he was before he got in the Tournament? No way you’d win. Weak link and all. So, I’m in, right? Because we’re going to have to change things up around here.” ...

Apparently Stout Henry has gotten a job in the real world. I feel so, so sorry for his clients. No, I didn’t create that profile. I’ve heard of one’s creations taking on a life of their own, but this is just WEIRD. Edit: Okay, apparently the OWNER of this place is Henry A. Stout. Still pretty bizarre, but at least I’m not insane. Yet. That I know of.

Ferd’s guards, sent to apprehend Stout Henry and bring him back to face his sentence – death – had decided instead to have him face the penalty meted out by the mysterious that… THING that lived in Owlshead Forest. Which was, to enter the Tournament that had filled all the inns of Nodding Fields with contestants and the crowds who had come from all over the Southlands to take part in the many battle royales that would give bragging rights to the villages and towns who’d sent their best to compete. ...

In honor of my friends and fellow bloggers either taking part in the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) or just writing for the pleasure of it, here is a special NaNoWriMo-sized entry. I now have even more appreciation for what those writers are going through :) 29 more like this one? Maybe next year! Nodding Fields was not the sort of place known for its nightlife. It wasn’t all that exciting during the day, either. If it hadn’t been Tournament week, even the most tenacious barfly would have stumbled his or her way back home before dark. ...

“My name’s not Ognob,” said Ognob, for the third time in as many minutes. “It’s Daryl. And this is NOT the way back to my laboratory.” “Of course it is, Ognob,” said Stout Henry, who paused a second to stare blankly at the darkening sky. “Of course it is…” “Of course it is… WHAT? My name, or the way back to the lab?” Ognob Daryl was flustered and clearly wanted to turn back, but the tall man with the weird expression and the tattered cloak on which someone had embroidered – badly – a wolf howling at the moon – wasn’t listening. ...

Due to the new character joining Stout Henry in his further adventures, AND due to me using Vanguard to generate illustrations for the story, Stout Henry was delayed until I’d leveled up a gnome enough in VG so that he could pose for screen shots. I finished that last night, and I think he came out pretty well :) VG’s Isle of the Dawn was still really laggy on my computer, but the superior gear that comes from it makes it a bad idea to skip it. ...

“This man,” shouted the Magistrate, “who has come before us, an inhuman wretch, devoid of pity; void and empty; stands before you exposed. Let they who have issue with him come forth, and tell to us his crimes.” “Crimes?” grinned Stout Henry, his quilted jerkin somewhat soiled, the tattered cape with an embroidered wolf on the back, its muzzle raised to howl at the moon, much the worse for wear. “The only crime here is how little you offered for those good, solid candlesticks that look JUST LIKE GOLD. I could get twice as much in Greenswold, you know.” ...

Being a generally peaceful land, few people ever saw the inside of Cotsberry Prison, and those that did were often the sons of nobles who were left to sleep off their drunken carouses out of the sight of commoners. As such, the cells were clean and dry, the cot mattresses stuffed with soft feathers and the ticking, tick-free. The cell’s unusual comforts were lost on Stout Henry. Stout Henry was spending his time trying to force himself into the cell’s corners and between the narrow-set bars on the tiny slit in the wall that let in air and light, hoping to pop through. It wasn’t going well. ...

Stout Henry walked with a quick step toward Cotsberry Market, leading a beautiful brown mare. He looked up at the morning sun, adjusted his broad brimmed hat, flipped back the corners of his tattered cloak with the hand-stitched emblem of a wolf howling at the moon adorning the back, and took a sip from the water skin slung at his hip. Before long, he caught up with an old woman pushing a cart full of apples. “Hail, apple merchant!” called Stout Henry cheerily, “Tis a beautiful day, is it not?”. The old woman looked back over her shoulder. “Hmmph. Be a darn sight better day if’n your horse could pull this cart to market.” ...

I was writing a new Stout Henry story last night, when I got the idea to try and model him with the character creators from all the MMOs I had which could actually make unique characters. That left out EverQuest and World of Warcraft right off the bat; neither one has many character choices and people generally look a lot like other people of their race and gender. I started off with City of Heroes, because its character creator is legendary. Unfortunately, the options are not tuned so much for a medieval adventurer wearing simple clothes and wielding a staff. Still, after a couple of tries, it didn’t come out too bad… but it wasn’t Stout Henry. ...