Gorlash and Sweth

Remove this Banner Ad

  • Thread starter
  • Moderator
  • #26
I did, but I did not feel that I had permission to contribute, this tag changed everything!

I do appreciate this.
Permission GRANTED on this occasion. :whitecheck:

Shall we also grant access to our dear friend BLUEALLTHRU? 🤗
 

Log in to remove this ad.

Indeed, BLUEALLTHRU, I look forward to your interpretation of the first page.
Donald Trump Reaction GIF
 
  • Thread starter
  • Moderator
  • #34
My reply wouldn’t be to your liking my good friend. You seem to be enjoying it and the masses are voting with their replies. Have a lovely night Heady.
Your words of support via PM were most appreciated, my friend! :love:
 
  • Thread starter
  • Moderator
  • #36
I'm not sure I'm the best person to answer that, Cadsky. Perhaps you'd like to tag 1-40 other posters from Sweet in this thread.

Do they make good goulash in Sweden?
They use a decent sauce to Sweden it. Sometimes if they're Hungary, they eat Turkey instead, cooked in bacon Greece. If you get some of that India, you'll love it, you may have to Pakistan-ley knife to cut it into smaller chunks. I saw your girlfriend eating it and thought, there's Norway that's all for her. Jamaica eat all of it? I would have. You may of course have to Cuba carrot to add some nutrients 'cause I'd Haiti see you malnourished. However if you made this goulash dish with the turkey, you'd be Havana great time eating it, especially if you have it with Chile. You look like Uruguay who likes thing spicy, and if you said you didn't I wouldn't Bolivia. It'd be like one in a Brazil-ion chance that you wouldn't. I have Togo soon, I'm Ghana go make myself some goulash. Kenya believe it? Now you've made me Hungary as well. And I was just China help. You know what they say, Taiwan shoe then the other. I'm going to get my Oodie on, Israeli cold here.
 
They use a decent sauce to Sweden it. Sometimes if they're Hungary, they eat Turkey instead, cooked in bacon Greece. If you get some of that India, you'll love it, you may have to Pakistan-ley knife to cut it into smaller chunks. I saw your girlfriend eating it and thought, there's Norway that's all for her. Jamaica eat all of it? I would have. You may of course have to Cuba carrot to add some nutrients 'cause I'd Haiti see you malnourished. However if you made this goulash dish with the turkey, you'd be Havana great time eating it, especially if you have it with Chile. You look like Uruguay who likes thing spicy, and if you said you didn't I wouldn't Bolivia. It'd be like one in a Brazil-ion chance that you wouldn't. I have Togo soon, I'm Ghana go make myself some goulash. Kenya believe it? Now you've made me Hungary as well. And I was just China help. You know what they say, Taiwan shoe then the other. I'm going to get my Oodie on, Israeli cold here.
I've never met someone so well travelled as yourself
 

(Log in to remove this ad.)

I've never met someone so well travelled as yourself
Admittedly, I have been very lucky to have grown up in a foreign country and hence had my eyes opened about how small the world is, and was able to see a great deal of it.

My wife is from a village in PNG in the precise geographical centre of nowhere. So she is also happy to have seen some of our planet that she would not have expected to see. Most of the people in her village have seen about 4 km from the outer edge of the village.
 
The morning sun lent little warmth to the small cobble-stoned alley way. Shadows loitered in nooks and alcoves waiting for the afternoon sun to usher them away. In the cool sunlight a body lay.



Not just any body; this was a body that had been thrown out of more taverns and questionable establishments than broken glass. This was a body that had seen better decades. This was a body whose breath had to be kept away from open flames.



It wasn’t always like this. Once, this body was the object of songs of legend. Once, this body was willing to risk everything for the greater good. Once, this body was an absolute bloody madman.



Now, people ignored it as they passed it lying in the street. Young children occasionally dared each other to kick at it and run away.



A shadow fell over the body as an old man approached. His ancient hands held a gnarled wooden staff in a powerful grip that belied his apparent age. His face was etched with lines in an intricate network of wrinkles that could have served as a pretty decent road map to the universe. His thin, white hair fell about his shoulders like mist collected around a distant peak. He wore simple robes made from inexpensive cloth tied around his waist with frayed, greying rope. He knelt down on one knee as his intense blue eyes studied the comatose form lying on the cobblestones in front of him.



Behind him a younger man stood, trying to see around him but not daring to go any closer until beckoned. He was a large muscular fellow with enormous hands that looked as though they could juice carrots just by squeezing them. His face showed the tell tale signs of younger days plagued with acne. Either that or in his youth his face had suffered a direct hit from an incoming ballistic echidna. On his back he carried a longbow and a quiver of arrows.



The old man turned his head. “Stay there!” he said. “Do nothing until I say.”



He turned back to the figure lying on the ground, raised his staff and, muttering something about how much better the world was back when he was eighty, brought it down hard, squarely on the body’s chest with an audible crack.



The figure groaned. And turned his face from the cobblestones to see who had just hit him. He looked up into the silhouetted face of a smiling elderly wizard.



“Well Sparrow!” said the ancient man with his staff raised again. “The years have been kind to us haven’t they?”



“Pelasar!” said the astounded Sparrow still reeling from the effects of the alcohol in his system and the undefended thump to his chest. “Listen! I was always meaning to meet up with everyone. Any gems that are miss…”



“I didn’t comb the countryside searching for you for a few paltry baubles Sparrow, the world’s in trouble and… Let’s just say I’m getting the band back together. Do you still have your … err.. talents?”



“Do you still have your… err… money pouch?” asked Sparrow dangling a small leather purse from the forefinger of his right hand.



Pelasar checked his belt, he hadn’t noticed Sparrow even reach in his direction, yet what was only seconds ago, hanging safely from his makeshift belt, was now suspended from the end of Sparrow’s extended finger. If Sparrow had have been the kind of man to fill out a tax return, his fingers would have been listed under essential plant and equipment.



“Good!” said Pelasar, taking back his pouch. “Come with me.” He turned, beckoned to the young man accompanying him to follow, and said "We've got to prepare for season 36." and left.

Registering my interest. Reminiscent of Pratchett, though I get the feeling it's going to have a dark turn at some point.
 
  • Thread starter
  • Moderator
  • #41
Registering my interest. Reminiscent of Pratchett, though I get the feeling it's going to have a dark turn at some point.
I notice you didn't register your interest to the thrilling tale of Gorlash and Sweth, James.
 
I notice you didn't register your interest to the thrilling tale of Gorlash and Sweth, James.

Such a magisterial work requires deep contemplation, Mr Less. I need to savour its bounties while partaking of a salubrious liqueur to truly become as immersed in it as it deserves.
 
  • Thread starter
  • Moderator
  • #43
Such a magisterial work requires deep contemplation, Mr Less. I need to savour its bounties while partaking of a salubrious liqueur to truly become as immersed in it as it deserves.
“Ah. No – no, that’s not what I asked,” Sweth muttered with a frown.

"I'll pass on the cinnamon," said Gorlash.
 

Remove this Banner Ad

Gorlash and Sweth

Remove this Banner Ad

Back
Top