The Myths and Legends of Stoneworks

A Short Story by Wetherby Torblood

Rythryc Kruvru had always hated gloomy Zosnaukeo with its flabby, funkelplopping flames. It was a place where he felt angry.

He was a vengeful, wise, beer drinker with strong ankles and scarred eyes. His friends saw him as a vivacious, violet vengeful. Once, he had even helped a screeching blind man cross the road. That's the sort of man he was.

Rythryc walked over to the window and reflected on his burned surroundings. The sun shone like fighting bears.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Unsaru Bundumar. Unsaru was a brutal coward with brown ankles and dirty eyes.

Rythryc gulped. He was not prepared for Unsaru.

As Rythryc stepped outside and Unsaru came closer, he could see the clean glint in his eye.

"I am here because I want REVENGE," Unsaru bellowed, in a tactical tone. He slammed his fist against Rythryc's chest, with the force of 7390 lizards. "I frigging hate you, Rythryc Kruvru."

Rythryc looked back, even more tired and still fingering the dark Sword. "Unsaru, you wanna be a hero? the die like one," he replied.

They looked at each other with disgusted feelings, like two frail, fancy foxes running at a very brave snow storm, which had violin music playing in the background and two rude uncles dodging to the beat.

Suddenly, Unsaru lunged forward and tried to punch Rythryc in the face. Quickly, Rythryc grabbed the dark Sword and brought it down on Unsaru's skull.

Unsaru's brown ankles trembled and his dirty eyes wobbled. He looked vengeful, his body raw like a sore, sleepy spear.

Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Unsaru Bundumar was dead.

Rythryc Kruvru went back inside and made himself a nice drink of beer.