Tales of the Parodyverse

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DONAR in collaboration with the very talented Hooded Hood..
Fri Apr 14, 2006 at 04:01:19 am EDT
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Because Visz requires a story, I'm proud to present "When Donar met Annj"...
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Hey gang.

The story's below, just had to send out another quick thank you to Ian for his assistance in basically getting the ball rolling by writing a chapter for me to work a story from. Thanks again Ian. And again.

Now, let any taxing thoughts be washed away as I humbly offer

"When Donar met Annj:"




She was tall and beautiful, with midnight black tresses plaited to her hips and eyes the exact shade of raindrops on a rose’s stem. She moved with the assured grace of a goddess born, and where she trod the grass grew a little greener and the sun shone a little brighter.

Also she was in the direct path of a ravening grimpenbeast, Donar rather belatedly noticed. And there was no way he could get to her in time to save her.

There was another warrior beside her on the road to Miserablegitheim though, a handsome man in shining bronze armour with a massive broadsword beside him. “Beware!” Donar shouted warning to her escort. Neither the fashion plate nor the lady had yet seen the danger.


They both turned and saw the charging beast at the same time. But instead of drawing his sword and standing in front of the damsel the warrior gave a little yelp and dived away into the bushes. (Well, it was a very big grimpenbeast.)

Donar began to run forward, dragging Mjalcolm, his enchanted baseball-bat-with-a-nail-in-it from his belt, even though he knew he was going to be too late.

The lady slid a thin sword from her back and clove the monster in two with a neat, economic carnage that left Donar gaping in admiration. She turned to him and then to the warrior cowering in the bushes. “It is safe to come out now. The creature is dead, poor thing. It was hungry and wounded.”


Donar went up and whomped the grimpenbeast anyhow, on principle. “T’was not that I wert afraid,” he assured the comely damsel. “Just too far off to reach yon point of impact.”

“Uh, me too,” agreed the handsome man, brushing the mud from his armour. “I was just trying to… to lead the monster off into the forest.”

Donar glowered at him, his lip curled back in contempt. The warrior casually moved so that the maiden was between them.

The damsel looked into Donar’s eyes, searching them for truth. “There is no fear in you,” she decided.

“And very little thought,” Donar admitted cheerfully. “I art Donar Oldmanson, Prince of Ausgard.”

“Ah. That explains why you were willing to charge a rabid grimpenbeast with a stick,” the damsel admitted.

Her escort recovered. “Lady, we must be moving on,” he told her. “Night is coming and who knows how many foul hairy things might be loose in the forest.” It wasn’t clear whether he was referring to the dead monster or to Donar.

Donar glared at him again. “If thou art supposethed to keep this lady safe, thou art doing a truly suckful job of it,” he declared. “If she wert not as good with a blade as she art beauteous and fair then she wouldst be grimpenbeast chow for the nonce.”

“I already told you…” the warrior bickered.

“Enough,” said the damsel. “It was only one grimpenbeast, after all. And this is no way to greet the Oldmanson.” She offered a graceful curtsey, and being male Donar lost all interest in the rest of the world while that spectacular cleavage moved down and back up again.

“…said my name is Grimbald the Dread!” repeated the warrior for the third time.

“What?” Donar asked, his mind still elsewhere.

“Grimbald the Dread, the most terrible warrior in Frothinggard!”

“Aye, I can believe it,” agreed Donar. “Thou seemest most terrible to me. My lady, may I escort thee to wherever thou art going? The night draws in and tis not safe to pass through the Ogjrewoods and the Woseholme without an escort.”

“I am escorting the Princess Annj to…” Grimbald began to protest.

“Without a competent escort,” Donar clarified. He glanced over at the alleged warrior. “Cease making noise lest I squash thee like an annoying flea or… or something that doth actually maketh an annoying noise.”

The lady Annj seemed to appreciate this. “We could use somebody who knows the locality,” she admitted. “But… I don’t think you should accompany me to my destination.”

Donar was back gazing at those eyes. He wasn’t thinking with his brain at all. “I vow I shalt follow you to the end of the nine realms to see tee safe to they destination, by Mjalcolm and all that I hold dear.” A belated thought came to him. “Er, where art thou going?”

Annj seemed less than pleased by the fervent vow. “I am going to Miserablegitheim,” she explained, frowning.

“Miserablegitheim,” Donar repeated, swallowing. “Ah. Yon Lord Slithis of Miserablegitheim doth not liketh me very much, on account of mine reaving of his nation and slaying of his sons. He hath oath-pledged to drag off mine godly wedding tackle and nail it to the world tree. Also he art a vile fell sorcerer who commands legions of the night and ist allied with the fiery dragons of Flaminghotheim. And they say he doth cheat at solitaire.”

“I am going to marry the Lord Slithis of Miserablegitheim,” the damsel clarified.

“To seal a pact of alliance,” Grimbald the Dread explained with a little smirk. “My master has agreed to cease his depredations in the fields of the Ausir in exchange for a tribute of gold and the Princess Annj.”

Donar’s frown mirrored Annj’s. “That doth not soundeth good,” he objected.

“Of course it’s not good,” the damsel told him crossly. “But the pact has been made between my father and Lord Slithis, to bring peace to our troubled kingdom, and I am obliged to uphold it. And you just took a vow to get me to the Lord of Miserablegitheim so I have to marry him.”

“Aye” Donar admitted, “..a vow wert made. And the word of the Oldmanson must be honoured. I art nothing if not wordy…yes….” Donar stroked his beard and smirked to himself at the genius of the plan that had just entered his mind:

1.    Escort the lady to Miserablegitheim as promised.
2.    Slay a hundred thousand undead warriors riding Fjiredragons.
3.    Conquer an all-powerful scheming mage that could rend the muscles from Donar’s body in a blink with his arcane prowess.
4.    A little dancing and roast bjoar with the beautiful vision before him.

Oh. And 5. Ditch the cowardly Boy Scout.

“Are you alright?” Annj enquired. “You sort’ve trailed off at the end there like you were deep in thought.”

“Highly unlikely.” Grimbald sniped from behind the relative safety of Annj’s back.

“Fear not, young maiden. We shalt tarry not a nonce moreth. Miserablegitheim and its charming denizens doth awaiteth…”Donar stated, “…their demise.” he added to himself.

The trip itself was uneventful to the casual observer. To Donar, however, it was more time with this goddess beside him, so the lack of carnage and things to break seemed almost negligible. Donar discovered that Annj was one of four daughters of King and Queen Hodun of Wjodonheim. The other three had drawn longer straws than Annj had, so unfortunately it fell to her to marry Lord Slithis to end the constant warring that their shared border had birthed.

“And what of your skill with that blade?” Donar enquired. “Ne’er hath a seen a lady that wert not one of mine father’s Valkjyr wield a blade with such grace and skill…and truth be told, that lot doth hack and slash in a blind rage and hope that steel bites bone.”

“We were all trained in traditional sword use in my family, but Ausgardian weapons are so..” she looked to Donar’s towering frame for the right words “..bulky and unappealing.” If there was an insult there, Donar missed it. All he knew was she looked at him, and that is clearly always a good thing. “A traveller from a far off land was seeking shelter from a raging storm one night..”

“That was probably one of mine.” Donar boasted with a grin.

“..most likely, yes..” Annj continued, “..and in return for warm shelter and hot food he gave this sword to my father…for me. He was most adamant that I receive it and grew quite upset when my father initially refused his offer. Hospitably is a virtue, as I’m sure you know, and does not seek a reward. The man claimed his honour demand that we accept the sword and so it came into my possession that night.”

“This man….he did not haveth one eye didst he?” Donar posed, fearing his father’s influence. “Nay, milord. He had two..but he did disappear in the morning before breakfast could be brought to him. In fact his bedding was untouched. It was as though he had never been there.”
“My sword’s a present from my father” Grimbald interrupted, ruining the flow of the story, “yes, it was his father’s before him and he passed it on to me.” He then flashed the pristine blade before himself in pride.

“Well.” Donar replied, comparing it to his well-worn bat “Perhaps one day thou shalt actually get to use it and honour the blacksmith that made it.”

“Perhaps sooner than you think.” Annj interjected the bravado contest. “Ogjres.”


What is an Ogjre? Well, they may be layered like onions but no one’s ever peeled one so it’s pure speculation at best. It could be quite difficult to peel something when it’s turning you inside out like a sock on laundry day then sucking your entrails from the dirt. What Donar, Annj and Grimbald were about to discover was that Ogjres were only this gentle with their food when they weren’t that hungry. The two ahead had been on a self-imposed liver cleansing diet for the last month and had picked today to binge on anything stupid or unfortunate enough to cross their path. It would be safe to say that Grimbald and Annj were unfortunate. Donar? He was the stupid. Stupid like a fjox.

As the large bipedal beasts came lumbering towards the trio, Donar launched himself forward with a roar. This surprised one of the Ogjres, because they’d never had food willingly try to leap into their mouths. Annj braced one foot behind her and reached for her katana as the other Ogjre took a swipe at her escort Grimbald, who bravely screamed, dropped his nice clean sword and ran into the bushes again. Annj managed to land a hit on that Ogjre’s leg only to find that its rocky skin was quite impervious to swords, Ausgardian, Oriental or otherwise, hence sealing the peeling argument once and for all. Glancing to her left she noticed that Grimbald had most likely fainted in the bushes, while checking to her right she observed Donar’s Ogjre advancing with a noticeably protruding belly courtesy of the Oldmanson it had just devoured.

It was just as she was about to curse all men on every planet that the advancing Ogjre gripped its gut in pain and Donar made his less than spectacular reappearance on the scene, bursting from between its lungs and appendix. It seems that he had known that Ogjres were nigh impossible to hack into, but pretty easy to hack out of. The Ogjre closest to Annj turned to see its fallen life-partner and promptly pulled off its own head in grief.

“Wow.” Annj remarked. “That was your plan all along?”

“Well.” Donar replied. “I didst knoweth about their rock like skin. Andst who can blame the other for choosing to die rather than be without the one they love?” Donar implied, looking deeply into Annj’s eyes through the dripping coat of Ogjre bile that covered him.

“Perhaps you’d best rinse off somewhere before we proceed.” Annj offered diplomatically. “The odour was tolerable before, but this is too much.”

“Agreed milady, my apologies.”

Donar then removed his helm and mumbled to Mjalcolm, commanding a rainstorm to wash down the land and Donar with it. Annj said nothing, but was impressed that he’d managed to have the storm rage wildly around her yet leave a patch of clear night sky over her head. She wasn’t sure but she could almost make out a love heart in the clouds around it. Donar pulled his hair from his face, looked up and drank his rain with a smile. It was the first time she’d actually seen his face and she had to admit, there was an alpha male appeal to him.

But she dismissed such thoughts with hidden sadness, knowing her fate was to live as a ransom wife to a necromancer.


If only she knew what lay ahead.





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