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MilaineSummerset β Hunting Down A Great Mahsar
Published: 2011-02-21 02:13:23 +0000 UTC; Views: 819; Favourites: 14; Downloads: 10
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Description
Hunting down a Great Mahsar, or Aq-Tebil Mahsaraqu, as they used to call them in the Old Shade, has become quite difficult.Take this sad result, for example - I merely had found an absolutely simple, cute, small, common Mahsar.
The Great Mahsars have become difficult to hunt.
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Comments: 12
Das ist irgendwie einer meiner Lieblingsbilder 
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Die Jagd nach dem Grossen Mahsar ist die Jagd nach dem perfekten Bild, des feinsten Details, des besten Blickwinkels und der genussvollsten Aesthetik. Oder so.
Allerdings fuerchte ich manchmal, die Grossen Mahsare sind in der Tat seltener geworden.
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love this, great perspective, and love the mood. good job x3
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Thank you a lot!
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Too right, you don't often see one mounted in the trophy rooms of great sportsmen. The trophy hunters lack the proper sort of imagination to bag themselves a Mahsar. It takes a lot more than just a hunting rifle and a packet of cartridges. Blokes such as that are lucky enough to stumble across one, although in most cases this rare instance turns out to be rather unlucky. The old timers tell me you can hunt one with nothing but stick, and a natural talent for voice mimicry. I reckon I should take this advice with a grain of salt, as the characters are notorious for spinning wild yarns to tickle their fancies. I found myself once face to face with a wild Teckboop, with a mince tart nor turnip, based solely on ill giving teachings from that lot. Imagine me ringing away at a bell, and flashing the sun's light into it's face via a small mirror, dressed as a schoolgirl. These chaps failed to mention that Teckboops can't stand either sunlight or the chiming of bells, and they are near sighted and notoriously known to eat schoolgirls. Luckily, my Foosbrack came burrowing out of the ground, the trusty steed she is, and came to my rescue. Teckboops are terrified of Foosbrack. Believe me did I ever have a word with them later.
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The problem with trophy rooms for Great Mahsars was so, since discussions have always varied as to where the head of the beast actually begins and ends, that most kings, queens, emperors and empresses had devoted entire trophy halls for them in the old days. The old towns have gone, the old halls have gone, and a few tiny artifacts of actual Mahsars still go through the hands of old scientists and alchemists nowadays. The small Mahsar depicted here was found about 730 wrong years ago, and that was already before the Journey.
Teckboops have become a plague recently on the island of Ciyunthaich. In an unfortunate but nonetheless amusing play of irony and nature, the believers of the local Mirun cult had shunned bells, which were seen as a sign of Mirun's doom, and have had, since Mirun was assumed to be a nightly predator, adopted a primarily nightly life-schedule. Teckboops do not occur naturally on Ciyunthaich, and they are currently suspected to have been released on purpose. Ciyunthaich has many resources to offer after all, but so far nobody ever had been having success bribing the people of the Mirun cult with shiny beads of light and brass bells.
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The Teckboop on Ciyunthaich Island mystery has long been fodder for the conspiracy theorists. Scientists tend to disagree on the finer points of this phenomena, while others still declare Ciyunthaich to be a myth in itself. A noted self proclaimed Ciyunthaichist, an expert of this unique area who goes by the name of Sherman T Peabody has done extensive research and the best he could come up with... was that he was pretty sure it was a chap called Woody.
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I am sure he is also known as Allen; he lives in New York, and he hates New York.
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Oh Allen, I know exactly who you mean. That guy's an asshole.
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They are! I tried to kill one with a spear I made from compressed waffles. But it was an adult Mahsar and I forgot that as they get older, the become immune to waffles so, needless to say, it was a long and bloody battle . He took a few of my organs and a limb but I took his life. I celebrated by eating the entire bastard like a thanksgiving turkey that last long after, that's why there was a potato drought in ireland, the amount of mashed potatoes to accommodate such a great bird, not greater than I, mind you, was, well...great!
I fashioned huts out of the bones and feathers but the neighbourhood that homed the midgets who lived there had become lousy with drugs use and crime. Funny enough they were executed with the Mahsar's beak, which I was commissioned to fashion into a guillotine of sorts. I know, I'm amazing, huh?
And the moral of the story is, eat your fucking waffles, kids. Or suffer the horribly horrible consequences.
Cheese.
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You might have stumbled across a Nechathiq. Mahsars do have multiple beaks of some sort, but no feathers. Nechatiqu are immune to waffles all of their lifetime, and that is why Nechatiqu eggs and waffles just don't make a proper meal.
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I reckon you might be right. The Germans knew about the weaknesses of the Mahsars, that's why they invaded Belgium because they had perfected the craft of waffles or as the Germans pronounce it, "Vaffles."
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