User:John Lydon/RPG/25
Like any moron with a disregard for personal safety, you saunter over to the mysterious stranger and throw at your hand. "Hi my name is <insert name here>. How are you?" The stranger shifts a little. "<insert name here>? Did you say your name was <insert name here>?" The mysterious stranger begins to look anxious. "Is your mother..... Linda by chance?" "If by mother, you mean that mildly attractive older lady who just stares blankly at me, then I think so." Upon hearing this, the mysterious stranger leaps at you and grasps you firmly against his chest. "Son!" The stranger grips you tighter still. "Get the hell off of me weirdo!" you scream and the man releases his grip.
"Who are you and what's your problem!?" The man takes a step back. "I'm sorry. Allow me to explain. I am Bill and I'm your father. You see, 30 years ago, I met a woman named Linda, your mother, at this very town festival. Oh she was a beauty, your mother was. At first she played coy but after 4 or 5 Margaritas she really loosened up if you know what I mean. Anyways, we spent the rest of the night in the stables, going at it like wild boars. Your mother was the most flexible women I have ever met. She used to do this one thing where she would twist her leg so her foot would fit in her...." "OKAY!!!" You scream. "Enough. I get the idea. You slept with my mom. That doesn't automatically mean you're my dad." "Oh but it gets better. After your mother and I made sweet, sweet love, I was called away by the Kings army. Your mother sent word a few months later that she was with child and asked when I could return to her. Unfortunately, I was needed elsewhere at the time and was unable to be there for your birth. By the time I fulfilled my duty to the Kings Army, you must have been twelve years old. I decided you would be better off without me. So I never contacted you."
"Why bother me now then?" You ask. "You want money don't you? It's always money." "No no no! It's not at all like that. You see, I'm dying. I wanted to meet my son one time before I died, and I wanted to give you this." With that, he hands you a rusty, decrepite looking sword. "What the hell is this?" you say, confused by the piece of scrap you've just been handed. "That, dear boy, is the <insert name here> family sword. It has been in our family for generations. Now I want you to have it." "Thanks..... I guess." "By the way, they seem to be charging for this years festival and I seemed to have left my coin purse elsewhere. You don't mind covering your dear old dad just this once, do you?" "Damnit, I knew you were going to ask for mon..."
Before you can finish the sentence, an androgynous bad guy jumps out of nowhere and looks menacingley in your direction. What do you do?
