Writing Prompt The story behind that scar

Llamadragon

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All scars have stories. Some are pretty heroic. Others are really lame. Some have just always been there, the owner never learning its origins.
 

jinxs2011

Spud Cannon
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Wait, the owner of the scar... Doesn't know its origin?
That must've been a heck of a night out.
 

HURGMCGURG

That Guy
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"After John lit it on fire, I knew there wasn't much time before the fire spread across the room. Luckily, John didn't wait to see what would happen and left. I needed to put it out quickly, but I didn't have any of my clothes on me or anything I could use to put it out. So, I held the thing up to my chest in order to smother the flame. It hurt like a bitch, but it put the fire out. Since they didn't find me for another few days, I knew I made the right choice in putting out early, before it spread to the rest of the room."

I snapped out of the past and turned to face my wife as she sat in bed.

"And that dear, is why I have scar on my chest shaped like a Furby."
 

ArcadiaBlade

I'm a Lazy Writer, So What?
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"Wow, thats a pretty badass scar you have there." a boy who gaze upon a man with a scar on one of his eyes.

"Nah, this scar isn't all that cool once you know the story." The man replied as he took a chug of his alchohol. "But i guess you wanna know how i got this scar right?"

"Yeah!" the boy happily replied.

"Well..."

***

I was a wee lad who drempt of being a great adventurer like my dad. He once rode on a lot of adventurers with his friends and i want to experience what's his life as well.

So, i became an adventurer and travel all over the world to search for treasures and the fun of adventures. It was fun and exciting.

I battle against huge beast, defending towns against an army of demons and monsters, saving the world from some evil godlike worshippers...heck, i even got transported into hell itself and manage to survive.

The life of an adventurers always comes in a risk of dying, no matter how experience nor powerful you are....

"But um..." the boy was hesitant but he was only curious about the scar in his face.

"Oh this? Well, i got beaten up by a farmer because i stole one of his crops for a quick bite to eat. He just gave me a scar and spit on me as he left to harvest his crops. Ahaha..." the man said as he began to feel the scar on his face.

"............your pretty weak. Old man..." The boy gave a blank look of disappointment while slowly leaving the man and about to head outside.

*Bam*

The door to the guild was vigorously opened as a farmer carrying a pitchfork, furiously howled as he points his pitchfork at a famous adventurer team.

"Dang you hooligans! I told ya i'll be whooping ya asses for stealing me crops!"

"Woah gramps! It was just one corn!"

Ignoring the fully plated warrior, the farmer slowly appoached them as he charged his pitchforks towards one of the adventurers. An arrogant adventurer only gave a grin as there's no way that they'll lose...

"Well, those A-ranked adventurers are fcked since i even lost to that gramps despite being an S-ranked." the scar man replied as he continue chugging on his alchohol.

Knowing about the charged on the farmer, the arrogant adventurer slowly stepped back and place his foot forward. But the farmer had read his move and shifted gears, he quickly stopped and used the butt of the pitchfork to hit the guy's face. Then, the one-sided match between the A-ranked team and a farmer begins as the farmer was just beating the crap out of those adventurers

The adventurers were shocked, the child was shocked but only the scar man slowly grinned as he watched how the farmer punished the adventurers.

"Maybe i should retire and be a farmer..."
 

XianPiete

Bad Fiction Author
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She sat down at the bar and he couldn't help looking at her, she had an otherworldly kind of beauty only right across her face was a long scar that gave her beauty an incredible edge, like she was someone who could fight. Rather than marring her beauty it just changed it from delicate to razor sharp. He cleared his throat and said to the bartender, "Hey, what's she drinking?"

The bartender chuckled, and then lean closed and said in a low voice, "Careful that girl's a wild one. Do you see that scar on her face? Some people think she got that in a knife fight. One guy said she got that scar at a biker bar when one of the guys there called her his bitch. She just about killed him and only ended up with that scar. Many men have thought about doing this, but in the end, that scar makes them back off. No one wants to end up like that biker. She drinks straight JD if you are brave enough."

He swallowed and then said to the bartender, "Send her one from me, and put that first one on my tab as well."

The bartender chuckled and then nodded. the bartender walked over to the girl and refreshed her drink and then pointed down the bar at him. She turned to look he smiled and gave her a head nod raising his own drink. She slowly walked over, her hips swayed, her eyes looked like a vicious animal, the smile on her face slowly left as she walked near. He felt a cold sweat and his heart began to race. He wanted to run away as this vicious animal like woman closed the distance and said in a silky smooth voice, "Hi, my name is Gina. Thanks for the drink."

He swallowed afraid that the first wrong move would trigger the vicious side of her, he stammered out, "Hi, I'm Randy."

She looked him up and down and then giggled, moving closer he could smell an incredible scent coming from her, like fruit. It made you want to devour her. She lightly brushed over his pants and asked, "Are you, randy? I am free, would you like to come over to my place?"

He didn't know why he asked, but he couldn't stop himself, "How did you get that scar?"

"I blacked out drinking in here once, woke up in the hospital. No idea how I got," Gina frowned, "My brother is the bartender here, he keeps making up stories about it to ruin my sex life." she shook her head and then flipped off her brother.
 

Llamadragon

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She sat down at the bar and he couldn't help looking at her, she had an otherworldly kind of beauty only right across her face was a long scar that gave her beauty an incredible edge, like she was someone who could fight. Rather than marring her beauty it just changed it from delicate to razor sharp. He cleared his throat and said to the bartender, "Hey, what's she drinking?"

The bartender chuckled, and then lean closed and said in a low voice, "Careful that girl's a wild one. Do you see that scar on her face? Some people think she got that in a knife fight. One guy said she got that scar at a biker bar when one of the guys there called her his bitch. She just about killed him and only ended up with that scar. Many men have thought about doing this, but in the end, that scar makes them back off. No one wants to end up like that biker. She drinks straight JD if you are brave enough."

He swallowed and then said to the bartender, "Send her one from me, and put that first one on my tab as well."

The bartender chuckled and then nodded. the bartender walked over to the girl and refreshed her drink and then pointed down the bar at him. She turned to look he smiled and gave her a head nod raising his own drink. She slowly walked over, her hips swayed, her eyes looked like a vicious animal, the smile on her face slowly left as she walked near. He felt a cold sweat and his heart began to race. He wanted to run away as this vicious animal like woman closed the distance and said in a silky smooth voice, "Hi, my name is Gina. Thanks for the drink."

He swallowed afraid that the first wrong move would trigger the vicious side of her, he stammered out, "Hi, I'm Randy."

She looked him up and down and then giggled, moving closer he could smell an incredible scent coming from her, like fruit. It made you want to devour her. She lightly brushed over his pants and asked, "Are you, randy? I am free, would you like to come over to my place?"

He didn't know why he asked, but he couldn't stop himself, "How did you get that scar?"

"I blacked out drinking in here once, woke up in the hospital. No idea how I got," Gina frowned, "My brother is the bartender here, he keeps making up stories about it to ruin my sex life." she shook her head and then flipped off her brother.
That’s fantastic.
 

Llamadragon

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Clarice seemed to live a pretty humble and easy-going life, for an adventurer. The dwarf-woman had a scarred and tattooed appearance and seemed stockily built even for her race, but her eyes were as gentle as her nature. She owned a cute little cart dragged by two cute angora goats, and once a week or so she would come into town to sell the herbs she collected the past week, chat with friends for a while, get new herb collection quests and then it was rinse and repeat. Quite the chill lifestyle. She would get invited to party raids every now and then as the healer that she was, but she always declined, saying that kind of stuff was too dangerous for her, and that she had her goats to watch. She really adored those things, since they were her constant companions, and didn’t want to leave them.

All that made her ever increasing number of scars quite suspect. She usually wore a tank top, making the injuries on her arms obvious. There were cuts. There were burns. There were scald marks. There were discoloration from poisons. There was even a slight indentation that was probably from some small animal biting a little chunk out of her arm, that made those familiar with the anatomy of dragon skulls squint at her funnily when she first returned with it.

No one pried, of course. In that line of work there were simply some things that were common sense not to touch upon, and other peoples past - or their secret activities - was a pretty big nope. Years passed. Clarice added scars to her collection. Rumors went around about how she was probably in some sort of criminal activity, but no one would say that to her face.

Until one day, someone was drunk enough to ask. An A-ranked party had returned that afternoon with one hell of a find - a magic, flaming levitation orb that allowed its user to fly while being engulfed in a protective sphere of fire that only hurt their enemies and not themselves - and it was worth a shit ton of money, so it was free drinks for everyone.
Clarice didn’t mind answering, though, which made everyone lean in a little closer in anticipation for this several-year-long secret.
”It ain’t that weird, really. You know how goats are.” She said and scratched her beard. ”They are curious creatures and they examine things by nibbling on them. And, well, by eating them too, and occasionally.. well, more than occasionall actua-”

A flaming ball of fire suddenly burst into the room through one window, flew through the room at high speed, and crashed out through a window at the other side of the bar, all while making a rather ear-shattering ”BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.......” sound which faded into the distance. It only took three seconds.
Clarice never got to finish her story. As adventurers, most people were pretty jumpy by nature, and the drinking hall evacuated swiftly, people arming themselves in preparation for combat. They were professionals after all. But there was nothing outside - no soldiers, no monsters, no nothing, when everyone settled back in their places again (to the sound of the innkeeper complaining about how much those windows cost), Clarice was gone.

She returned a week later as usuall, and people asked her again. ”Well...” she said gingerly, ”cause I have the goats... I attract predatory monsters a lot. That’s all.” Someone commented the new burns on her arms.
”Oh, yeah.” She said, looking at her arms which were smeared in ointment. ”Just another slime with a fire affinity. Nothing much.” She said with her trademark gentle smile.
 
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