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Dogus Brankorking

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Dogus Brankorking

One of the Wasted Elemenstors.

Familiar: Turnum the Smug Ape.

Born: 23,247

Died: 23,344. Dry-humped to death by the Tordingwall after a night of binge drinking in Middleclang.

Before his demise, frequented the Pig's Annoyance as a patron, storyteller and braggart.

 

Canon References

 

Small excerpts from his various bar tales forthcoming...

 

Felthar and Cubbard were out there somewhere; and they were in danger. Even

with the warm fire of the hearth at his back and the cold, smooth ale

sweating in his hand, Dogus knew that Gorg Stinkrot was out there as well.

 

"Stinkrot," Dogus cursed to himself under his breath, "Stinkrot and that

damned nightstand."

 

One of the bar maids seemed to have overheard this muttering and stared at him

with big, concerned pupils.

 

"Worry not, child," Dogus placated her, "These are but the troubles

of an old Elemenstor...long out of the loop."

 

She placed her hand on his shoulder and then smacked another froth-spewing

mug onto the table next to him, leaving him to his thoughts.

His thoughts remained out the window, which framed a perfect

Middleclang night of trixillating stars over high-peaked mountain ranges.

 

Somewhere out there, Dogus thought, Gorg was causing trouble in Ezermethalon.

"He's causing trouble and I'm not there to assist old Felthar," Dogus hissed.

 

Lifting his purple-furred head up, Teremus recovered from his stupor long enough

to gaze at his bearded master.

 

"Back to your sweet-addled, temporary coma," Dorgus lured, "Back to the haze

we have both garnered for ourselves here in this drunken land."

 

It had been many years since the Wasted Elemenstor had lived a true tale of

heroics, looting and adventure, many a yearicle since he had engaged himself

in some journey of worth and excellence. Now, he sat in the Pig's Annoyance,

oggling the lady-folk and entertaining the scarred patrons near the kegs with

his tales of High Elemenstoring and dark deeds unwrought.

 

Looking at the snowy caps of the mountains, Dogus wondered if he shouldn't leave

it all, go back to a life as a great Fire Elemenstor, forge new tales for

himself, and steal those of others. He could still return, he mused, return

and live off the new tales here in this diminutive, hidden paradise of ale

and skirt. Lately, Dogus had found he was exhausting his well of stories

to impress and beguile the folk of Middleclang.

 

He had been improvising lately, and improvising badly. Many a drunken night

he had crafted a poorly-conceived tale and he was beginning to suspect the

townsfolk were now only humoring him and no longer believed his recountings.

 

The Pig's Annoyance was starting to let out. Few were left to stagger on home,

and fewer still remained to buy Dogus drinks in exhange for Dogus' many epic

recallings. Tonight the chubby waitress, her considerable girth and bossom

barely held tight underneath her white bar-maiden's dress, was the only one left

to listen. Would he enthrall her with tales of battle and mercy? Would he

remain where he was, content to tickle her ear with an Elemenstoring saga

or two? Or would he get up from this wooden stool, lay down his basket of

deep-fried Runtberries and rejoin the great fight for the world of Battal?

 

Dogus Brankorking, former Fire Elemenstor of Battal, awoke on a slobbered

pillow, the smell of leaf smoke and wet ape-hair in his nostrils. He turned

to peer over his shoulder. Plump and cute, flushed cheeks smiled back at

him contentedly. Her bar-maiden's red bow un-tied and lying limp on her

beard-scratched shoulder. In the background of her chubby form

was the ape, snoring smugly in what Dogus assumed were probably arrogant,

smug dreams.

 

"Tell me more of Elemenstoring, Dogus," cooed the soggy bar-maid, "Tell me more

of the furniture and the glory."

 

Dogus turned over briefly to look out the window of his room. The

snow-splattered mountain range was lit by an enduring sun now. Somewhere

beyond them was his old friend, in trouble, somewhere out there new stories were

still being lived...and TOLD.

 

 

 

--Taken from Book 6, Nightstand's Peril''

 

Comments

I find it odd that the narrative in Book 6 switches between Felthar and Dogus, as it often does in the other books of the cycle. I ask this mainly because, although it seems to be leading up to Dogus leaving his life of drinks and bar-wenches to save the world in book 13 (much like a han-solo type character), he never actually does. This begs the question, what was the point of Dogus' musings about returning to Elemenstoring anyway? Perhaps he was meant to return in the rumored 14th book? Perhaps his dry-humping and subsequent death at the underbelly of the Tordingwall were added in lazily by Tycho when he decided he would not be making the 14th book after all? --magnoliafan@yar.ca

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