 WarDad |
 | Crewman 3rd Class |
Messages: 7
Registered: November 2002 | |
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A story background on the Pack Race:
(note: it was wrote for role playing a Space Empire IV game.)
"EARS UP!" Packleader Snarf eyed the troops and they looked tough and sharp. Their ears and back bone were properly pointed to the Heavens, the front paws held together in prayer, weight balanced on the hinds, tail properly curled , and the butt off the ground. Snarf continued, "I am proud of your progress, your dedication, and your unquestioning devotion to duty. You have been told you were training with traditional melee weapons for the Imperial honor guard. Who ever believes it can take a big step back, the silent may stay. Today we will be briefed by Talma from internal security."
Snarf was rattled when he first saw his former bitch. Five years of family service with her is enough for anyone he mulled. In the Masters name, why do we have to work together? It's just not policy. The thought of her Master's Thesis rose like a cold chill up his spine.
Talma addressed the Pack. "K9s! Today you will engage in ritual combat with a fierce enemy for the greater glory of the Big Dog bloodline. The enemy you face is disciplined, cunning, and thrice the dog you are. You will not be facing legendary Dobermonsters and you will not need silver bullets." She continued the briefing, "You will be facing gifted warrior Dobermans. Their PSI bark is worse than their bite, but each of you have been selected for your thick headed resistance. Their boast of a Doberman warrior being better than 5 of ours has given us a slim advantage." She concluded with, "Officially the combat will never have happen and the few survivors will report a surprise clash with devolutionist backsliders. I now invoke the Question Ritual."
"Gifted Dobermans, How can this be?" Barked one soldier, "We are the gifted. How can there be honor in this combat?" Talma answered. "We are thrice gifted and we continue the Masters work with the lessor gifted. We must fight them at their level of development for the sake of honor, respect, and cooperation from their leaders."
"This is wrong!" Protested another, "The Masters loved us!" Talma suck in her breath and barely muttered audibly, "The Masters loved sheep too." Instantly Snarf was on her, at her throat, and on top. She lay back submissively and piddled. He growled lowly, "No heresy in front of the troops." He was secretly elated by her public submission, but then he looked at her guards still standing rigid and slowly realized he had been played. The guards smiled at him knowing that the troops would now defend Talma to the death. Snarf would have to continue the Question Ritual, and by doing so possibly implicate himself.
"SNARF!" barked the commander, after the briefing finished, "head for the bath, we can’t have your corpse smelling of bitch." Snarfs ears jumped, he was really rattled now. Talma chimed in, "There is not enough time for the drying track, and a blow dry would look better for the cameras don’t you think?" The commander agreed, "Do it Snarf and make it quick." Snarf sulked off in a hurry. "A BATH!!!, a fluffy blow dry, in front of cameras and in battle", He swore to himself, "If I survive this, Talma will pay."
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