One of the Yahoo Groups I belong to is a group that discusses fantasy fiction. There I am known as Thongor, named for Lin Carter's Conan knock-off. Over the years, whenever things get slow at the group, one of the other members and I have been writing the continuing adventures of a couple of inept fantasy heroes, somewhat in the tradition of Terry Pratchett's DiscWorld series. Low comedy and bad puns ensue. Below are a couple of examples or my posts, done just today. The rampant adverb abuse and wonky dialogue attributions are intentional. Everything else is just goofy.
"This ale has gone flat," Thongor said, draining his mug in one
"What did you expect?" said Priest. "We've been here drinking for
four hours. Let's go watch a movie or something."
Thongor shook his head, causing his horned helmet to slip to a
jaunty angle. "No, no. You wanted the whole barbarian experience.
This is what we do. We guzzle ale in disreputable taverns until we
can't see straight. A little later we'll start a brawl. Then we'll
rescue some scantily clad wenches from lascivious sorcerers. Maybe
fight a giant spider. Stupid sorcerer's always seem to have giant
spiders lurking around."
"Couldn't we just skip right to the rewards from the grateful
rescued wenches?" Priest suggested hopefully.
"Nope. Simply isn't done. Oh well, might as well get that brawl
Thongor rose somewhat unsteadily from his stool and staggered
across the dimly lit tavern to a table where three dangerous looking
mercenaries were seated. Without preamble he grabbed the edge of the
table and flipped it over, sending mugs of ale and partially devoured
joints of beef flying.
"You son of a dog," cursed one of the mercenaries, a burly man
with shaggy red hair. He lurched from his chair and struck Thongor a
resounding blow, sending the barbarian backpedaling to the bar.
"Now we're talking," said Thongor. "Here, Priest. Break a chair
over that guy's head. Always have to break at least one chair."
Thongor lunged back toward the three mercs and kicked the closest
one in the stomach. He grabbed another by his tunic and threw the man
in Priest's direction. Priest broke a handy chair over the man's head.
"Say, that's kind of fun," said Priest.
"Find a bottle and smash it on someone's skull," Thongor
suggested. "Can't call it a proper brawl without a smashed bottle or
The remaining mercenary picked up a bottle and smashed it over
Thongor's skull. Thongor grimaced and punched the man in the face
twice. "I wasn't talking to you," he said as the man toppled.
"Now what?" said Priest.
"Hmmm," mused Thongor. "Usually the rest of the tavern would have
joined in by now and the brawl would rage out of control. Then the
night watch would show up and we'd slip out in the confusion,
laughing heartily. This place is kind of quiet though."
"Say," said Priest, "You're not just trying to make some last
minute posts so we don't drop below our all time
monthly low of six posts, are you?"
"Priest, I'm shocked," exclaimed Thongor. "I assure you this is a
completely legitimate adventure and not a cheap way of shoring up our
"Okay. Good. Hey, where's that music coming from?"
A staccato tune with plenty of sax and kettle drums had suddenly
begun to play. Thongor pointed toward the door where an extremely
well endowed woman was making her way into the tavern, her hips
swinging in time with the music. Her hair was raven black and fell to
the small of her back. Her scant garments of silk and copper bangles
did little to disguise the lushness of her form.
"Oh my stars and garters," said Priest.
The newcomer walked right up to the two heroes and struck a pose,
hipshot before them. She tossed back her extravagant mass of ebon
curls and pursed he full, scarlet lips. She said, "My sister has been
kidnapped by the evil sorcerer Zolthang. I need a couple of strong
men to rescue her."
"Oh yeah!" said Thongor. "We'll be knee deep in giant spiders by