Tober_Smiles
04-11-2007, 11:55 PM
Prelude:
When mod 3 went live the forums were 'pruned'. This story, while shrinking to the third page was the 3rd most read thread on this forum for months right up to the cut.
With the release of mod 4, what better then a re-written* release for the old and new players to enjoy in one single really long message minus all the comments (even the 'hole dug in the neighbors yard at 3am big enough to bury a large cat' one).
Good Group, Bad Rogue
- - - - - - - - -
The crate was a little shaky with all the traps going off but I stood on it anyways, gripping onto the traps control box for support watching the thief below running though every trap in the room. The rest of the party huddled on crates and ledges out of harms way yelling at the rogue to disable the traps he was prancing though. And still he ran like a psychotic deer. I watched the thief, flaying with each acid blast, running blind and tinked my dagger on the box wondering why we even bothered hiring a thief. I could understand it if the thief came recommended but this one came outta the blue. And we needed one, per the leaders demands so took him and there he is. Running blind and deaf.
I yelled to the Warforged perched on the boxes across from me, "Is he going to disarm this trap or what?"
Never realized Warforged could shrug but he did, "Dunno," he said, "looks like he's too busy running around."
So we watched the rogue running like a stupid rat in an easy maze and I tinked my dagger on a control box I couldn't open or disarm.
It's all okay, I thought, eventually the rogue would calm down and listen and do his job. Even if he had to die first.
- - -
The Elf
The rogue wasn't so much running anymore as doing as close to a hopping and falling routine a Halfling is capable of. Towards one crate to another he'd hop, trip, occassionaly keep his balance but as time went on he more often simply fell. Even the traps seemed to give up shooting off and torturing him- like they knew he was too stupid to be a threat to shutting them off and resigned to shutting themselves off out of boredom. Then suddenly but with a slow grace, mid-hop, he collapsed and released a sound that made me realize I want to die quickly. Not because I fear pain, but the sight here was the utmost form of pathetic I could imagine. And being a Bard, I can imagine some really pathetic stuff. The Warforged screamed "He's going down!" and then it hit.
There are some sounds the mind protects one from. The instant the sound is heard, the mind instinctively stashes the memory of the sound ever happening in some unknown place of the brain, wiping our memory of it so we don't go completely insane. That's my theory and being a connoisseur of sound, I should know. Course if I could sing worth a **** I wouldn't be here now would I?
That voice. The hidden memories flooded back. Her words were as soothing as swimming in a lake of broken glass, the tremor of her tone like daggers stabbing in my ears and her delivery as seductive as a mace smacked upside my head. Twice. Then the desire to flee was gone and I didn't know what was said.
And I screwed up because I didn't remember and asked, "What?"
And the Elf, that beautiful Elf, replied, "Where's.." ..someone decided my brain was useless and was trying to pull it out my arse.."the.."..things crawled inside my head, where the brain used to be and I needed to stab them out because they were eating me.."Leader?" A small sun exploded inside my right ear at the question and it was all gone, but I remembered enough this time and gripped the control box as if it was my only friend. What was she doing here?
The Warforged shouted, "Yea, where is the Dwarf?"
I couldn't really think right but now knew better then to talk to the Elf I'd forgotten about, or look in her general direction because she might talk again thinking a head nod was an invitation to speak thereby making me happily slit my own throat. "Dunno." I croaked, focusing on the rogue now prone and twitching on the ground. Knew he had his uses. Sure as a thief he sucked, but he made an excellent focus point.
"Dunno?" the Warforged relied.
"Dunno." I said. The rogue was crawling around, making whimpering noises.
"You're his scribe, that's your job. You document his every move in every 'quest' he takes and you dunno where he is?"
Wasn't aware Warforged were capable of sarcasm either. What did he expect me to say? The truth? That the Dwarf jumped to my crate and whispered in my ear near two hours ago he wanted to pinch off a loaf and asked me not to document it and that I was leader? That the dwarf was hording food? As a fighter the Warforged was certainly capable, more then capable. The amount of heads he crushed in 'The Bloated Swine' pub while I watched had to be near 10 and that was just over a sour ale which tasted fine to me. But he has a small problem since he can't eat food but thinks he can. See, I'm a smart guy. I'm not about to tell some weird sentient rock that can turn me into a puddle of goo in under 2 seconds that our leader left to eat bread that that something thinks it can eat but can't. "Yea, dunno where he went, just vanished." And damned if I'm going to tell him or the others that I'm the new leader.
- - -
The Other (looked sane at the time) Halfling
Standing on a crate, trapped in by traps, gripping the traps control box I can't disable with an uptight Warforges' eyes burning under my flesh- things are bad enough at this point I figure. And if I survived to retell the 'manly adventure' someone may ask innocently, “How could it get worse?”. Instead of grabbing the nearest solid object and attempting to beat them to a pulp while screaming, “That's how!” I decided I'd just tell them how it could get worse: The leader deserted us to eat food, the one that could disable the trap lay face first on the floor, spread-eagle and probably dead, the Warforged on the other side of the room seemed to want to explain to me how much I didn't deserve to live, there was a beautiful Elf I'd forgotten was with us whose every word caused apocalyptic visions of destruction every time she spoke; oh, and the leader was the healer who could have fixed everything.
It was rough, incomplete and needed to be reworked a bit but it took most of my mind off the fact the leader who could have fixed everything left with the food, the thief was probably dead and both the Elf and Warforged seemed to have it in for me. Course I didn't really mind the dead thief since since his job appeared to be failing at everything he did, but the other two were creeping me out.
I needed an allay. And I could reach one. Quick turn to the right, majestic leap of faith over a very wide empty space from one crate to his stack of crates and 'there you go' instant possible friend. But, I don't know. A well-armored Halfling wielding a sword twice his size and weight as if it was not a sword it's size and weight and always spouting off about 'nobility', 'giving ones life for good', 'helping everyone and all, rich or poor, mean or nice if the outcome meant happiness' among other pointless **** along those lines- kinda a turn off. Not to mention he had such nice teeth, unnaturally white and once I swear seeing a glint of sunlight reflect off them in a pretty rainbow pattern while his lips were clenched together tight as he watched a dog chase a cat. And in the short time I've know him he never cursed. I mean who the **** never curses? No one I'd trust. And there he sits on his stack of crates like he was meant to be there, calm, unalarmed and watching everything. Just who the hell does he think he is!
I didn't need an allay that bad so looked back to the hopefully dead rogue waiting for the Flies to have a feast, whose offspring would create even more Flies that produced more Flies and wondered since all the bread was gone if it was possible to live off Fly.
“I need to speak with you.” the 'goody-shoes' said so I immediately slipped on a rather overpriced ring I picked up after the leaders and my last quest payoff, turned right, ran two steps and lept thinking, 'Well, I could use an allay for right now anyways' while at the same time thinking, 'why am I doing this?'
- - -
The Rather Overpriced Ring
At the time of purchasing the ring there was quite a selection to choose from. Shiny gold ones with skulls and rubies for eyes, beautiful silver ones with snakes painstakingly carved around their bands, some purple ones emitting more smoke then my dead Da's pig bone pipe.
“Dey all do som'ng.” The traveling salesmans fat smile was intriguing.
“What kind of something?” I mumbled over a ring I thought was black but after blowing the flames back a bit turned out to be green.
“Dat dwone' ya spit'ing on kell yer enimas- lit dem on f're whe'd dey push it on der fing'r. Entr'nl f're.”
“Eternal fire?”
“Wat I seed.”
“What's eternal fire?”
He grinned. “Don go out fer many moon tyme.”
That made no sense at all. “So I hate someone enough to want to kill them, give them a ring and they happily put it on?” I really tried holding back the sarcastic tone.
He laughed in a scary way, “Na, idjoit. Cmon enimas na goud. But a frin'd you qiet'y no be lik'n?” His grin was wide, toothless and innocently evil, “Nuder story der, eh?”
Perhaps I misjudged the amount of evil in his grin and jumped back too quickly. “Ah.” Not my style but perhaps Jokies style? “Someone maybe back for that one.”
The salesman smiled again. “Har ti lit ded, den gone.”
While I figured the salesman was probably leaving town at sunset before too many hopeful customers realized their newly purchased Ring of Disease Ward failed to protect them from the two copper per hour harlets hanging out at the port, the rings themselves were still rather fascinating and I wanted one.
Looking over the rest of the stock the salesman almost whispered, “Din jump back ta fer.”
I ignored him, I'd buy what I wanted to buy and a Ring of Jumping wasn't very exciting.
“Can jump, can ya?”
My eyes settled on a ring engraved with a fishing pole, cast into something that resembled the sea with two things that appeared to be fish-like leaping for the same single hook.
“Jump bak lik dat..”
I liked fishing, well if I ever tried it I'd probably like it, and two fish on one hook? I could eat for two days!
“..mere a step is all it twas.”
Two days if it was cold since fish rot quickly.
“Mere a lass step.”
I pointed at the fish ring, “How much?”
The salesman grinned, “553 gold. But thet nat be what ye nedn,” and he reached for a gold ring with a foot with wings engraved in it.
I was confused. “553 gold? Why not round it off to 550 or 555 gold?” The salesmans arm kept reaching for the jumping ring, “553 is stupid.”
“553 gold stup'd ta ya.” He plucked the jumping ring up. “550 gold, 555 gold mak sen'se ta ya.” His hand swung towards me holding the jumping ring. “But 553 gold mak sen'se ta me. 550, 555 gold, stup'd ta me.” He dropped the ring in front of me and it looked horrible because I couldn't jump and he realized it.
“How much?” I asked because I hated not being able to jump and wanted the ring.
The salesman's toothless smile beamed as he spread his hands, “Fer ya, 311 gold.” His lips streached ear to ear in an eeiry way.
311 gold? What was with this guy and his odd number prices? I shook my money pouch feigning contemplation but I knew how much was in there and it wasn't anywhere near 311 gold.
And apparently he knew that also because his hand came out of nowhere and swiped the ring away before I could spit on it, which I didn't want to do but if I'd known the ring was going to be paraded in front of me only to be snatched away like that I would have.
The salesman's eyes narrowed. “How muc' gold ya got?”
Not being able to jump was a sore spot in my life and he knew just where to stick the dagger and when to twist it. “52 gold”. What could I lose?
His eyes studied me for a couple seconds, eyes full of discust and wasted time, before he held up a single finger and said, “Ya so patetic, I might h've somting.” His other hand vanished under his makeshift counter, reemerging with a lump of dull something that looked like a ring.
“A rej'ct an on'y 52 gold.”
The ring was the color of Pewter and dog **** with faded barely visable etchings that appeared to have been done by a newborn.”What's a reject?” I wanted the ring anyways but was curious.
The salesman hummed in an off way. “Da 311 gold r'ng ya jump al'ays good 'n fer. Dis 'un, net so much a chn'ce of dat.” His fingers tapped the tabletop. “Net jump fer, do jump fer, jump way too fer,” he tossed his hands up, “Who knews. On'y ding fer crtin, ya net count on it.”
The salesmans smile sealed the deal and I tossed my money pouch to him, “I'll take it.” He opened the pouch, carefully counted and took all 53 gold in it and tossed me the ring. “Thanks bunches guy,” he said, “and good luck with it.”
I started to protest but the leader grabbed my arm and dragged me away so gruffly I barley had a chance to stuff the ring in a pouch.
But that was then and now is now and on first use of the ring I think I'm jumping a little too high and a little too fast to land gracefully. But I know no matter how this leap of faith turns out, at least the rogue is probably dead.
- - -
The Halfling: pre-insane, part one
Some things happen in an odd state of helpless slow motion. Such was the the leap of faith. At the point of my right foot lifting from my stand of crates and my left foot thrusting forward aiming to land on a specific spot of the Paladins stand of crates, Time stopped, laughed a little and showed me a future of trajectories I couldn't change and the future was not good. I Thank none of the gods I worship that the Paladins crates were stacked against a wall an instant before slamming into that wall and falling into a heap on the crates.
The Warforged roared with laughter, “Nice jump Flyboy!”
As I gathered myself to my knees visions of shadowed people tearing off their flesh to escape something so horrible ripping their own flesh from their bones seemed like a good idea flashed in my head and I needed to do the same. Then it was gone. Guess the Elf said something.
“Bards can't charm a wall with a kiss Elf! A sappy poem maybe, but slobber spit?” more laughter, “Should have brought flowers with you!” Never knew Warforged were capable of humor.
The Warforged's laughter echoed about the room as I crawled to the Paladin. He sat quietly staring at the rogue.
“That Elf's got a problem,” I said.
His reply was distant., “Oh?”
“Her voice.”
“It is a little tinny.”
Tinny? I knew not to explain further but his hair was so shiny. “Every time she speaks I don't know what she said but I want to kill myself.”
The Paladins head tilted just enough to signal his thought process was different from mine. “And you think she has a problem?”
- - -
The Paladin: Pre-insane part 1.5
I stared at the back of the Paladins perfectly shaped head trying to make a decision. His words didn't hurt. Weren't a spiteful stab or jab. He simply asked a question insinuating perhaps I had a problem of some sort. It was rude and I was tense. It took a couple seconds of internal debate but decided not to smash my Lute over his noggin.
His voice was deadpan, “We have to save the rogue.”
I changed my mind and reached for my Lute, “The thief is dead.” Hopefully.
“Nearly, but his back still rises with breath.”
It was a beautiful Lute. “Why do we need him?” Screwed everything up and caused this.
“We will, you just don't know it yet”
The Lute was custom made, black with painted flames pouring where the strings were plucked. Its impending destruction caused chest pains of sorrow as I gripped its neck and swung it over my shoulder. He somehow knew the thief would be useful? What was he smoking? As I tensed to swing the Paladins head turned and his eyes met mine.
“This is no time for music.”
I had to pause as two thoughts exploded into existence and began a race through my head seeming to know the prize of winning was they'd be extrapolated. Thought One tore out of the gates as if something was threating its genitals: 'The Lute was not played by grasping the neck with both white-knuckled hands and holding it over ones shoulder in a menacing way.'. But thought Two was right there biting at Thought Ones proverbial genitals: 'His eyes were odd.'. Thought One flew though the first synaptic corner and barreled into the straightaway: 'He thinks I'm going to play music?'. Thought Two entered the turn with a fury: 'He's got odd eyes', then tripped, rolled and plowed though some brain matter which made me twitch a little. Thought One ripped thought the straightaway, my right eye blinked once: 'He thinks I'm not going to hit him in the head?' Thought Two recovered from the stumble but it was too late, Thought One emerged sure-footed from turn two of the race without losing speed and bored towards the finish line, flying across it with as wide a smile a thought is capable of. I grinned, tightening my grip on the Lute and tensing up even more, ready to smash a head. Thought Two figuring it was headed towards the proverbial mindglue factory flipped off Thought One as an announcement from the officials racked the brain: Thought One was declared fouled out due to an overwhelming desire not to destroy the Lute. Thought Two, elated, trotted over and punched out Thought One then both thoughts vanished.
My strength faded and I lowered the Lute.
His eyes were odd. Everyones eyes I'd seen were not like his. Black in the middle with a band of color around it. His were just black. I was hit with a serious case of '***?'.
- - -
The Paladin Halfling: pre-insane part 2, nearing total bonkers
I sank into the blackness of the Paladins eyes and saw nothing. Something rubbed against my lower leg, wrapped around, squeezing and I wanted to be afraid, to run away screaming about the BoogyGoblin come to rape, kill, mutilate, then eat everyone else alive but the thought fled as the comfort of something spiraled, tightening around my thigh and across my stomach, circling around, pinning my arms to my side. It occurred to me I was floating in darkness probably being prey to something but didn't care because nothing mattered anymore. Pressure wrapped around my chest and rips, squeezing them with a force of calmness. As it wrapped around my head all negative thoughts stopped and I watched every thought-webbing created from the past that made me as I am crumple away leaving me happy, free, unquestioning. I felt innocent.
A voice floated through the darkness, 'Feel better?'
The vibration of the words massaged my soul, it was ecstasy. “Yea.” I gathered a chest of breath, made a mental shrug and screamed, “So **** off and die now!”
The mental webs re-grew, wrapping tightly around my psyche. Anger, ****ed off, found Innocence walking though a field of flowers, enjoying the beauty and scent, and tore her head off, kicked it across the field then picked one flower, smelled it, put it in his pocket and set the rest of the place on fire as Chaos gleefully tortured a chained Ecstasy.
I felt normal again, except for the torturing part, and opened my eyes to see the Paladin still staring at me. And he looked angry for the slightest instant before stepping back into his calm state. But an instant is all it takes to reveal weakness.
“You're a lousy leader,” he stated. I knew that. “But you are the leader.” I wished he would have kept that to himself I thought through the Warforge's renewed laughter. “So this is the plan: I'm going to save the rogue...” Sounded good to me and good luck so looked away, removed the reject ring to a pouch and maneuvered to a more comfortable sitting position on the crates.
After a couple seconds trying to get comfortable I realized it'd be much better resting my back on a wall so butt-scooted back till the comfort of the walls hardness supported me and sighed.
The Paladin cleared this throat. Must have a flem problem.
I brushed my hand over the lute and strummed it once, it really was a beautiful thing, and thought about taking a nap.
“You done?” The Paladins voice was still calm, as was his face. Beyond the Paladin the Elf was staring at me. I looked sorta-rightish and the Warforge was staring at me, it seemed I was the center of attention when that was not a good thing.
So it was two, probably three on one. About what I didn't know but I wasn't going down without a fight. Then decided I would because the thought of that nap felt so good. “Yep.”
The Paladin attempted to wormhole into my brain again, failed and relaxed, “Good. You have to pull that lever.”
Apparently I missed something. “What lever?”
His finger shot out pointing at a monsterous black lever thing an inch from my right shoulder I never noticed. “That one."
It was a question of curiosity, but not about the lever, “Why?”
- - -
The Perhaps too Level-Headed Paladin
The Paladin stared at me with those weird eyes. “You didn't listen to the plan.”
I held my tongue needing I had to be sure, “Guess not.”
The Warforged screamed, “C'mon, pull the stupid lever and let's go!”
Unrelenting pain erupted as a thousand arrows tore through my body and I gasped longing for the death they should have brought. Then it was gone.
Softly the Paladin said, “The Elf sends her love.”
And I knew.
The Paladin stood up and began the four step walk towards where I sat as my mind exploded.
Step one: I wanted to cut all his shiny hair off.
Step two: I had my answer, he wasn't perfect, he had a vindictive streak in him.
Step three: The one that claims to want to save everyone hated me. He'd leave me for dead.
Step four: He's no better then the hopefully dead rouge in disguise.
He stopped, his hand on the lever. “When you pull this lever, the gate will open. Then the Warforged and Elf will jump through.”
I was distracted by the moment but stuck in 'try to **** him off mode'. “You're right there, hand on the lever, why don't you pull it or push it or shove it in whatever direction it needs to go.”
“I would,” the Paladin turned and began his four steps back towards the crate view of the rogue, “but we're a team and right now your job is to pull that lever.”.
- - -
It's the Music, Man..
He was right.
I stood up. The Paladin was about to try and save a useless or hopefully dead thief, he tried to mind-**** me for some unknown reason, after thinking he'd leave me for dead he contradicted that thought enough that I think he might jump into a volcano crater figuring he could drag my crispy carcass from the lava and he appears to be very level-headed. What a bastard. If it wasn't for the fact he manged to deftly usurp the leadership of the group out from under me I would have shoved him off the crates myself and let the traps have a meal of him. So I owed him one.
I readied the lute and did a smooth long armed strum down the strings. They all sounded good enough. I was going to pay him back by rallying him to his cause.
The Paladin spun around, his face full with a beaming frown of non-delight. “Pull the lever.”
“In a minute.”. Out of 6 strings I decided to alternate plucking the third and sixths strings in rapid succession. It seemed to create a nice base layer for the coming situation, one string high and the other low, a tense but hopeful atmosphere.
The Paladin asked, “What are you doing?”
I plucked those two strings for a little bit. “Inspiring you.”
My left hand did this contorted thing on the neck I'd seen another lute player do once and plucked the second string, the tone adding a sense of mystery to the whole piece, then went back to the third and sixth string. Yea, that sounded good so did it a couple more times.
“Why?”
I ignored the Paladin, adding the first string into the mix. This was getting good. I missed a string, my fingers slamming against the wood making a 'thonk' sound that fit the whole rhythm so added it to the beat.
I think someone said something but I was falling into the 'zone' and only felt the running of my fingers though the chords as the pace quickened as I plucked harder and faster and did that contorted thing with my left hand more often and the lutes painted flames burned to life licking my fingers with pain as my head slammed forward and back and forward and back and my hair was whipping around and my neck was killing me but I didn't care because it was the music man and it was so ****ing godlike I fell to my knees, arched my back to stare at the ceiling and closed my eyes for the ending as I plucked and held the fifth string, feeling the sustain ring out but it faded too fast so plucked and held it again, my whole body shaking I had to scream so did and released the string shooting my fist into the air.
I hunched forward, exhausted, expended and wanted a smoke. The room was silent save my pants for breath.
“He dying?” The Worforged shouted.
I searched for my legs, found them and rose unsteadily to my feet.
The Warforged shouted again, “Oh, maybe the fit wasn't as nasty as it appeared.”
I looked at the Paladins unreadable face and gasped, “You have four minutes.”
His eyebrows lifted, “Until you pull the lever?”
I grinned, what a bastard, “Until you have no chance.”
He turned and faced the stupid better-be-dead rogue again. “Then we should make this quick.”
My breathing was starting to slow, “Yea.”
“Incidentally, you do know there's no strings on your Lute?”
I'd heard it before. Looked at my blistered fingertips, swollen as if stuck in a campfire, I strummed the Lute once, put it away, turned and grasped the lever. “Less then four minutes now,” and pulled the lever.
It didn't move.
I pulled the lever again but it stayed still.
The Paladin screamed, “Pull the lever!”
Already tense, this wasn't a nice situation and I braced my foot on the wall and pulled till several things hidden under my skin felt like they'd explode but the lever stayed still, flipping me the metaphorical finger of badness.
“Pull. The. Lever!”
I'd had enough. “I ****ing pulled the mother-butt-****ing lever!” I shouted, “More then twice! It doesn't feel like being pulled! As a matter of fact it seems to have a sever aversion towards the whole pulling idea!” I leaned on the lever in defiance and all hades broke lose as the lever sank.
What happended next was nearly lost to me. A gate clattered open nearby I'd never noticed was there. The Warforged hooting like an ape shot through the gate, the traps exploded as the Paladin jumped to save the useless rouge, there were screams of pain and I thought the paladin was going down as I jumped from the crates through the gate to safety. I remember seeing him, the rogue slung over his shoulder, he was screaming out how rightiousness would prevail over all as the traps howled for his death before he collapsed five feet from the gate. Something cartwheeled past me in a blur and the rogue was suddenly flying in my direction. I remember side-stepping, there was a grunt of uncouncious pain as the rogue landed in the dirt and I smiled an instant before dodging yet another air-borne halfling that also grunted in landing and my smile didn't waver when something hit me hard enough to knock me off my feet and pinned the to the ground.
The Elf straddled my chest and, staring at me with those beautiful eyes opened her sensuous lips and spoke..and I screamed as daggers flayed my skin.
She closed her mouth and smiled, lifted herself off and walked away.
- - -
Murder
Lying on my back in the dirt, listening to the traps explode, trying to stare through the blackness above to perceive what kind of ceiling was hidden there, ignoring the burning spot where the Elf mounted my chest- it was comfortable and I closed my eyes.
**
The rain poured down that day. “There are leaders and followers! Who are you!”
I was walking past the local militia in training in an unknown town and had to stop and watch. All five men in a line facing the single man screamed in unison, “Leaders!”.
The single man paced in the mud and screamed, “And what do leaders do!”
It sounded like twice the many men, “Lead!”
Figured it was Officers training.
The single man crouched and spun around, “And where do they lead!”
“To Victory!”
“And victory is defined how!” he straighted erect.
“By what you say!”
The single man began pacing again. “And is achieved how!”
“By any means possible!”
A wrinkled man grasped my elbow, “Lik ur army?”
I didn't want to be rude. “From the left, the first man has a cowards gait to him, the fourth isn't into the idea of leading and the fifth is holding a flower. The other two would make good leaders for your towns troops though.”
The wrinkled man coughed and spit a large ugly flem my eyes followed from his lips to the ground where it stuck in a ball, the yellow and black streaked gooey mass quivering in interrupted momentum. It looked very not healthy. “Tis ur army.”
“And if victory is impossible!”
I wasn't sure what the old man meant, “That's your army? All of it?”
The old mans nearly toothless grin was innocent.
“Kill everyone and burn the town down!”
The old man was dead anyways but I had to get out of here before this place was attacked.
**
My eyes flicked open as my chest hitched with breath, I'd gotten out and was now lying on my back in the dirt listening to traps go off. I turned my head and saw the Paladin in a crumpled heap, on the other side of me the rogue lay still. The few hopes left packed their bags and left without turning off the lights as I noticed the rogues chest rise and fall. Still alive. Idiot couldn't even die right.
I wanted to drag the sharp side of my dagger across his throat and take a nap dispite the possible blood stream. It was a minor thought but he was in reach and pretty small. I could just reach out and drag him towards me and slit his throat without even standing up. But I couldn't do it without getting caught by someone. I looked around, we were alone the Rogue, Paladin and I. Maybe? I could fake being asleep if needed and either claim I was passed out at the time of death or blame the Paladin. Sounded like a good enough plan, little faulty on the unconscious Paladin killing a helpless Rogue but I'd make a good character witness for the prosecution. I knew it was impossible to achieve as I reached out, grasped the thief and slowly, quietly dragged him closer.
The traps still exploded.
The scraping dirt as the rogue slid over it roared in my ears, everyone had to have heard it. I stopped, held my breath and looked around, the Paladin was still knocked out and no one was in sight.
I pulled the Rogue closer, enduring the scraping echoing in my head, calling out to everything my intentions of doing a bad, horrible, diabolical thing. Who couldn't have known what I was about to do with all the racket the Rogues dragged body was making?
The traps cried. I held the thiefs head and stroked his hair back. He deserves this. He was useless up to now, he'd be useless in the future, he was a threat to the rest of the party. I pulled out my dagger. The traps whined, and ran it softly across his throat. He'd kill us all.
The traps screamed as the thief opened his eyes wide and a gruff voice shouted out, “Oy! Ouch! These things still active!? Makes the goings rough it does!”
- - -
The Dwarf
“Ouch! Mother of ale that was a sneaky spot to hide one!”
The leader was heading back and when an opportunity happens, grab it or lose it. I wanted the rogue dead, but I didn't want to do it. At this range anyways but he didn't have to know that. So I screwed my face into something I hoped looked sadistic and tapped the side of my blade against his throat and whispered, “You need to pay attention and concentrate, are you paying attention?” The rogue blinked his wide eyes. “That's a yes even if it wasn't because to me it was a yes.” The rogue blinked again. “If you can't open one more lock or spot and disable one more trap you can sleep if you want but I'll be awake.” I tapped his throat again. Sounded vicious enough I guessed. “Understand?” The rogue blinked and I smiled, “Good,” and threw him away where he landed in a contorted mess of a heap as the Leader burst through the gate.
He was breathing hard and kneeled down, “Playing with the rogue?”
“Was about to kill him till you showed up.”
He grunted, started to raise his hand to stroke his beard and in mid-raise must have remembered why he shaved it off as he softly mumbled, lowering his hand. “Eh.” His eyes looked around. “Where's the others?”
My left hand casually pointed leftwards. “Down there somewhere.”
He looked back to the trap room briefly.
“The rogue caused this,” I offered.
He sighed, “Yea. You documenting it all?”
He always asked that question at odd times. “Haven't had a chance.”
He stood and stretched. “I can fix this, I'll talk to the others, heal these two up and we'll camp for a few hours and you can write.”
I stopped being surprised with him months ago but was curious. “What about ..”
“Not now, we'll talk later, have to find the others. And don't kill the rogue, we'll need him.” And he waddled-ran to the left. His run always made me smile even when we were about to die. He bounced from left to right his cloak confused which way to go next.
I scooted till my back was against the wall. The leader was back and I had so many questions to ask. I glanced at the Paladin, was he aware what he was in for? Didn't seem the type. I snuggled into a comfortable niche and looked at the rogue. What was so important about that failure of a living being? My eyes were heavy, seemed like a good time for that nap so drifted off to sleep wondering if the Dwarf saved any of the food.
- - -
Dreamtime...
The rogues eyes called for mercy as my dagger bit into his throat.
“It's easy,” Jokie said, “just push and pull.”
“But he's looking at me.”
Jokie touched my shoulder and whispered in my ear, 'That's the best part sugar.”
- - -
Dreamtime..
The entire town was aflame as I ran through the rain and mud trying to ignore the screams of horror and battle and I tripped, eating mud. I scrambled to my feet trying to get up, oh everything I never worshiped I had to get up or I'd die but I couldn't get up, the mud was too slick and I floundered as my heart pounded and saw him, the wrinkled man with the grin and flem and cut throat, blood pouring into the mud and the Officer holding the flower laughing as he stood over the man. He saw me and charged and I flopped and slid in the mud screaming, “Don't kill me, don't kill me, I'm not from here!”
Jokie laughed.
- - -
Dreamtime.
It was too dark to see but I could smell her blooming lips nearby. “Jokie?”
The silence reverberated into a physical essence throbbing though my limbs...
“Jokie?”
..that slowly crushed my soul.
- - -
Drameitme?
The flower killer stood over me and smiled revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth crawling with maggots. “Okay, fine, kill me just please don't breathe on me!” His sword swung.
My eyelids shot open as my head flew across the muddy courtyard. The gate was open and the traps had turned off and noticed a hole in my shoe.
The Warforgeds laugher was just this side of hearing, “And he fell to his knees and started shaking...”
My head was spinning as it arched seeing mud, grinning psycho with a flower, sky, mud..
The Dwarf choked, “Did he do that fist thing in the air? I love that..”
More mud, psycho, flower, what kind, looked familiar, hello sky. I wanted to stop the spinning but my hands were too far away, tried anyways to no avail, useless hands..
The Paladin and Rogue were gone. More distant laughter, “Yep, right after he screamed..”
My head hit the mud and stuck like thick spit, mud filling my left ear, her breath filling my right, “I trusted you..”
I couldn't move, staring at the gate the flower killer was there laughing a waterfall of maggots over my body lacking a head. It was gross but a dream and I was awake so hello rest of the brain, catch up!
“Ah the fist,” the leader chuckled, “his finale. It's odd..never heard anything as he contorted but afterwards, things seemed..better for a time.”
I couldn't see while I could see as she thrust her tongue in my ear.
I really wanted the Warforged to shut up as he asked, “Better for four minutes?” More laughter as Jokie whispered, “You betrayed me.”
Normalness strolled in saying, 'Hi!' and I felt Jokie flee. I asked my right leg to raise 2 inches and it responded immediately raising about 3 inches. Close enough. I was awake.
I stood up and stretched, listening to the cartlidge pop and feeling the muscles rip. The party was a little ways away sitting inside a campfire and it looked warm and I was cold so began walking to them but my left leg was too numb to move. So only made it one step.
I tried brute force and dragging the leg, it wouldn't budge.
I tried demeaning the leg into submission: “The right leg moved, buck up, you don't want to be known as the left leg do you?”
The left leg simply stared as something barreled into me throwing me to the ground. “I trusted you! I trusted you! I trusted you! I trusted you!”
I couldn't breathe..
“I trusted you! I trusted you! I trusted you! I trusted you!”
- - -
Bad Begets Bad?
My eyes opened wide and through the dancing color spots the rouges face was huge and yammering mouth huger. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” He screamed leaning closer, one hand over my mouth the other clenching closed my nostrils.
There was no doubt, this was too familiar, definitely awake this time.
Spit leaked from his mouth sliding down my cheek. “Wanna kill me?” he whispered in a ****ed off way. My lungs burned as I reached for the thought in a fog: No, I didn't want to kill him, watch him die, yes..
In chains Karma started strolling around in my head throwing things around preaching about how bad begets bad as a spot of green sparkled across my vision.
“You should have instead of being a ball-less coward.” His hand over my mouth tightened as his grin widened. Hadn't noticed how nice his teeth were before. I tried throwing the runt off but the muscles wouldn't cooperate. My lungs began pounding and screaming to do their job.
“This is what happens!” Karma shouted to the rest of the brain, “When you desire to do something bad to another!” The Lungs petitioned the Brain Hierarchy to leave in a violent way and Karma ran to its chains extent, straining to stretch further, “Even the Lungs, they know! Bad begets bad! Hear me and know! The Lungs want to flee, the Muscles have given up and Sight, poor Sight is even failing!”
The Brain Hierarchy hummed in thought as Karma fought its chains, chewing on them and screaming, “The order of the cosmos is why this is happening, can't you see that?”
The green spots faded to black, he had nice eyes also.
Karma jumped around tugging its chains, “Sights gone! Sights gone! The cosmos have judged us from our choices can't you all see that? Are you as blind as Sight? Are you all fools? Free me before it's too late so you can learn!”
Cause And Effect appeared before Karma in a shadowed cloud.
Karma fell to it's knees spitting at the figure, “You're a lie! You can't keep me down the truth will be revealed, my truth! You're a fake!”
The shadowed figure punched Karma in the throat.
I coughed and hitched for the breath lost in the cough.
Feeling as if run over by a bloodthirsty herd of Ogres on a mission of death that suddenly forgot where they were going and retreated stomping back over me I rolled on my side trying to breathe and decide if I was elated to be alive or ****ed off having to deal with this pain again.
This time like the last, the asphyxiation was panic and horror, attempting to breathe but couldn't and wanting that air failing every attempt to get it, realizing I was going to die, no might, maybe or possibly, I was going to die. What I did to get in the situation, there was no out or escape, I was dead but still tried to fight, failing hopelessly. Then the calmness settled, it was impossible to fight back anymore, the body shut down, the mind said, “Whatever” and I wanted that death, loved it, basked in the release. Then the release was taken away and I could breathe again.
I gained my knees, muscles screaming and stabbing.
But unlike the last time, this time didn't involve a hugely obese Harlot that rolled over allowing me to breathe again, waking up a seriously ticked body to take it's unbearable piercing anger out on me and mine. This time involved a stupid short son of a ******** idiot thief, the latest sperm waste in a long line of genetic moronic ****ups, a line that should have been stomped out long, long ago.
I took my feet, wheezing, deciding to be ****ed and looked around. Open gate, sprawled out Rogue, dirt floor, no traps blowing off. It occurred to me this didn't make any sense but I was alone with the Rogue and was suddenly elated to be alive.
Swords sliced my legs as I shuffled to the thief. He looked solidly unconscious and I smiled. My voice was light and soft, “You awake?” The rogue didn't move, blood leaked from his skull but his chest still moved, good enough. “I didn't kill you before and won't now,” I shuffled back two steps, “but you're going to feel like me when you wake up. Bad begets bad you know..” My feet moved forward, right foot thrusting into the Rogues gut, he gained a little air before hitting the dirt in a limb-flopping multi-roll tumble, resting a contorted mess.
I should have enjoyed it. He was a useless waste, a threat to the party, tried to kill me and I really wanted to kick him again. But couldn't.
I Sighed. 'What was the point of him?' I wondered and went in search of the party.
- - -
Name Game
30-40 minutes later:
Flipping through the pages of the memoir the leader didn't look happy. “This is what I'm talking about.” A page was thrust in my face and shaken around.
“What are you talking about?” I couldn't focus on anything.
“This, right here.” A stubby finger began poking the page making things worse.
“Stop that,” I said grabbing the page from his hand and began reading.
Th rom ws trapd. Thef ded. Stonman cryg. We wer domed, futre of eatg ded Thef mak us sad. Elf unconcus frm panc. But thn Drankistids bak, trn off trap, slaay huge hedles men thig frm othr plac, breth lif in stopid thef an raz mity club wif victry an we mny hapy and praze him.
He always had to nit-pick the journals. “What? It reads fine! Far as I'm concerned what I wrote happened. You told me to embellish.”
The dwarf sighed, “What you wrote happened but who's Drankistid?”
Here we go again. “You.”
“Me.”
“You.”
He scratched his hairy leg. “Me?”
I was starting to get a little uncomfortable, the last twenty-five times this happened he wouldn't heal me for a week. Knew I should have just called him the Leader but he looked like a Drankistid so took the chance.
The Dwarf shifted around. “You get my name wrong every time you write it.”
Ah ****. I tried not to squirm.
He leaned forward squinting, “You do know my name?”
I wasn't stupid enough to believe what he asked was a question. It was a statement and he was questioning my abilities as his personal documenter.
“I'm famous.”
- - -
When gods Talk
In the distance the Elf was leaning over the Thief tending to his head wound, so limber. Her long fingers delicatly worked over the fabric absorbing his blood. Did she even notice the enormous grin plasted across the Thiefs face? Or his wandering eyes trying to peek though the cracks of her leather armor? And why did I care anyways because I didn't and I'm not getting angry and not regretting not slitting that little rots throat when I had the chance the stupid puke of a dung-worm piece of..
The Leader tapped me on the chest and my eyes snapped to his as I screamed, “What!” before I could control myself. I felt horrible watching the color drain from his face but I realized the opportunity to get out of the whole 'what's his name' thing. Maybe without punishment. I leaned forward, “What is it that you want little man?” His color came back quick. Not good but I pressed on hopeful. “Tell me, right now what you want to know!” He already did tell me but maybe I could confuse him. He was starting to look angry but too late to turn back now, “Because I don't ****ing know what this conversation is about anymore!” He was looking like he wanted to beat me into a puddle.
My face was stone anger, eyes gleaming (I hoped) when the Leader began his retaliation, “Ya list'n ta me ya son of a *****!” Accent alert, I failed. Pits.
Then the proverbial clouds parted, trumpets tooted, fairies sang a catchy tune and the gods had a meeting.
The gathered crowd echoed from booming whispers and earthquake causing backslaps as gods from all times and dimensions heeded the call to join in a decision.
It wasn't a life or death decision and in the grand scheme of god-type things it really meant nothing but so many showed up because it was rare the lesser gods could voice their opinions on decisions the higher gods had already made and not acted on due to even higher gods then them demanding the less higher gods hold a gathering to get and discard the opinions of the lesser gods. For morale purposes.
The meetings main god pounded his anvil and destroyed a planet. “Attention all gods here!”
The voice was whiney but loud, “Hey! That was my favorite planet!”
“Attention!”
“Wait! In their time I've been developing it for 15.284 billion years!”
The room grumbled as the fairies sang.
“Shut up! Come to order now! File the proper paperwork and it'll be reviewed.”
“But..”
The room shook, “NO BUTS!” And the room became quiet. The god of Silence thought about dropping a pin then made a note to talk to his shrink and his drycleaner.
The main god sighed deeply starting what would be known as the 'Black Plague' on a small planet no one really cared about. “Everyone have their numbers?”
The room grumbled about the number system. Some god piped up, “What number are you?”
The main god grumbled and an unknown replitian race died as their planet entered an instant ice age. A god in the crowd began to cry quietly. “I'm number one, I look over the leader. Number two in this decision looks over the Bard in the situation..”
“So where is number two?”
“What?”
“Where is number two?”
“What number are you?” The main god demanded.
The fairies keep singing, beginning to wonder why this was taking so long.
The god of Instilling Doubt Just To **** Someone Off looked at his card. “Number 5679438.”
Scanning the enormous crowd the main god gave up locating number 5679438. “It doesn't matter where number two is.”
The crowd made milling noises as the fairies sang.
“But your godness, it does matter. This meeting was called to decide a decision between two gods and the other god is vacant therefore if we continue this discussion without all involved parties a voice will be unheard leading this whole discussion invalid.”
The main god lost it. “God number two. He's my pal and he's in the can crapping out a new universe because the god of Cooking had a barbaque at the god of Eternal Heats place and the mayonaise went bad in the Chicken Salad..what am I explaining this for.. **** you, this is my meeting and I speak for him you *******!” He breathed a couple harsh breaths getting himself under control as the vegitation on several new worlds sprung to life strangeling out the newly evolving life there and another god moaned.
The main god huffed, stupid formalities. “Okay, here's the deal. The Bard and the leader are having a situation..”
Another god piped up, “Number 4376, I look over the Elf, can I influnce the situation?”
The fairies sang, glancing at each other.
Just wanting to get through this the main god mumbled, “Fine, whatever, no killing.” The main god shut out the thoughts screaming, “Wrong thing to say!” and exhausted yelled out, “The leader is going to kill the Bard. Decision final, thank you for your help!” The god raised his arms as darkness consumed the meeting, scattering the lesser gods like reverse cockroaches. “Thanks for coming your help was vital to this decision and something kill those fairies.” Hades minions responded with instant groteque violence.
The main god floundered in the dark for a seat, found one and relaxing sighed.
The god of Darkness said, “Comfy? Got some bad news..”
- - -
Back to the Roots
Dwarfs claim their facial expressions are unique, that they could be happy while they grimiced, and angry for blood while they smiled. But in my experience their expressions are exactly the same as humans unless they're completely insane in which case they'd still be the same as humans. And the leader right now was looking at me in a very angry scary way.
I had to ask, “Something wrong?”
“Na.” he grumbled, shifting to the right.
His knuckles were white gripping his mace. “Sure?”
“Yep.”
“Looking sorta anxious.”
With sunken eyes he growled and took a step back, “I'm fine.”
The stare of his blue eyes was intense. Had to change the subject fast, “So finish getting the journals up to date then?”
“You do that.”
I started to turn away, it was a close call about the name thing but I'm a professional liar and cheat, it's what I do and this was nothing different when he asked softly, “What's my name?”
I stopped as something spidery plucked at my nerves and my knees felt weak. Someone once described something they called an 'epiphany' as knowing everything about a situation as an overwhelming explosion of realization. Always thought it was a load of **** till now. I've nearly killed people for copper bits, conned and stole for small trinkets while lying and using everyone to get what I needed so why was my mind suddenly fighting a war between blinding him with ******** and telling him the truth?
I couldn't look at anything but the hole in my shoe. The war ended. We'd traveled months together, I liked him, he was a friend and I'd never had one one before. It was time for a truth, he deserved it. “You never told me your name.”
The pain was intense and short as his mace bounced off my head in a spray of blood and chunks of bone. Karma broke free of its chains jumping around screaming, “See, proof! Proof! And you all..” Cause and Effect snapped Karmas neck before the minions of hades burst in my mind and tore Cause and Effect to pieces.
I wanted to try and figure out how to get out of the situation but it was too dark and getting darker by each second. Feeling sloppy dirt in my gripped fist a minion walked up and handed me a memory, gave me the finger and laughed as he ran away.
The memory was blurred and erratic as my mind shut down. I had to get out of this situation but the memory was a distraction, calling to me, demanding to be realized.
The dirt, was it dirt? turned liquid and as I fought to keep my head above water, the waves of blood and despair I'd caused lapped against my mouth tasting of victory. Something grabbed my ankle, pulling me under and I saw her face full of smiling hate as Jokie dragged me deeper into the depths.
“I trusted you.”
She did but that was her fault. Raising my free leg I stomped her in the face, once, twice, three times before her grip loosened enough to break free. She sank as I flailed to rise, heading for the light I knew was somewhere above beyond the blackness.
The blackness parted to the light and I swam to it when something grabbed my leg, holding me under and I kicked breaking free just before something else grabbed my arm, and something else my legs, and something else my chest, something else my neck, hands sprung out invading every part of me holding me under and I fought them all hitting, kicking and flailing until exhaustion set in and I could only twitch in defense.
They dragged me down through the depths, screaming about stolen horses and ruined families, suicides I'd caused from my actions, people who were burned at the stake from my schemes. I could do nothing but listen, thinking all their woes involved me, yes, but I never intended the end results, so was what they were saying my fault?
Sinking deeper, the light above slowly faded to grey as the memory made it's way out of its haze. “Oh. He did tell me his name.” The light flicked out.
The End.
- - - - - - - - -
*Didn't re-write a thing, just did a copy and paste. Thought about re-writing, but eh. At least 2 episodes didn't have the proper breaks in the back up so just ran them into the prior episode. Last part lost the title so made up a new one. Also, for anyone who thought this story sucked the first time and didn't say so..your fault. :) And yes, I'm arrogant and figured since the episodes were originally written drunk, why not compile them that way?
Tober
When mod 3 went live the forums were 'pruned'. This story, while shrinking to the third page was the 3rd most read thread on this forum for months right up to the cut.
With the release of mod 4, what better then a re-written* release for the old and new players to enjoy in one single really long message minus all the comments (even the 'hole dug in the neighbors yard at 3am big enough to bury a large cat' one).
Good Group, Bad Rogue
- - - - - - - - -
The crate was a little shaky with all the traps going off but I stood on it anyways, gripping onto the traps control box for support watching the thief below running though every trap in the room. The rest of the party huddled on crates and ledges out of harms way yelling at the rogue to disable the traps he was prancing though. And still he ran like a psychotic deer. I watched the thief, flaying with each acid blast, running blind and tinked my dagger on the box wondering why we even bothered hiring a thief. I could understand it if the thief came recommended but this one came outta the blue. And we needed one, per the leaders demands so took him and there he is. Running blind and deaf.
I yelled to the Warforged perched on the boxes across from me, "Is he going to disarm this trap or what?"
Never realized Warforged could shrug but he did, "Dunno," he said, "looks like he's too busy running around."
So we watched the rogue running like a stupid rat in an easy maze and I tinked my dagger on a control box I couldn't open or disarm.
It's all okay, I thought, eventually the rogue would calm down and listen and do his job. Even if he had to die first.
- - -
The Elf
The rogue wasn't so much running anymore as doing as close to a hopping and falling routine a Halfling is capable of. Towards one crate to another he'd hop, trip, occassionaly keep his balance but as time went on he more often simply fell. Even the traps seemed to give up shooting off and torturing him- like they knew he was too stupid to be a threat to shutting them off and resigned to shutting themselves off out of boredom. Then suddenly but with a slow grace, mid-hop, he collapsed and released a sound that made me realize I want to die quickly. Not because I fear pain, but the sight here was the utmost form of pathetic I could imagine. And being a Bard, I can imagine some really pathetic stuff. The Warforged screamed "He's going down!" and then it hit.
There are some sounds the mind protects one from. The instant the sound is heard, the mind instinctively stashes the memory of the sound ever happening in some unknown place of the brain, wiping our memory of it so we don't go completely insane. That's my theory and being a connoisseur of sound, I should know. Course if I could sing worth a **** I wouldn't be here now would I?
That voice. The hidden memories flooded back. Her words were as soothing as swimming in a lake of broken glass, the tremor of her tone like daggers stabbing in my ears and her delivery as seductive as a mace smacked upside my head. Twice. Then the desire to flee was gone and I didn't know what was said.
And I screwed up because I didn't remember and asked, "What?"
And the Elf, that beautiful Elf, replied, "Where's.." ..someone decided my brain was useless and was trying to pull it out my arse.."the.."..things crawled inside my head, where the brain used to be and I needed to stab them out because they were eating me.."Leader?" A small sun exploded inside my right ear at the question and it was all gone, but I remembered enough this time and gripped the control box as if it was my only friend. What was she doing here?
The Warforged shouted, "Yea, where is the Dwarf?"
I couldn't really think right but now knew better then to talk to the Elf I'd forgotten about, or look in her general direction because she might talk again thinking a head nod was an invitation to speak thereby making me happily slit my own throat. "Dunno." I croaked, focusing on the rogue now prone and twitching on the ground. Knew he had his uses. Sure as a thief he sucked, but he made an excellent focus point.
"Dunno?" the Warforged relied.
"Dunno." I said. The rogue was crawling around, making whimpering noises.
"You're his scribe, that's your job. You document his every move in every 'quest' he takes and you dunno where he is?"
Wasn't aware Warforged were capable of sarcasm either. What did he expect me to say? The truth? That the Dwarf jumped to my crate and whispered in my ear near two hours ago he wanted to pinch off a loaf and asked me not to document it and that I was leader? That the dwarf was hording food? As a fighter the Warforged was certainly capable, more then capable. The amount of heads he crushed in 'The Bloated Swine' pub while I watched had to be near 10 and that was just over a sour ale which tasted fine to me. But he has a small problem since he can't eat food but thinks he can. See, I'm a smart guy. I'm not about to tell some weird sentient rock that can turn me into a puddle of goo in under 2 seconds that our leader left to eat bread that that something thinks it can eat but can't. "Yea, dunno where he went, just vanished." And damned if I'm going to tell him or the others that I'm the new leader.
- - -
The Other (looked sane at the time) Halfling
Standing on a crate, trapped in by traps, gripping the traps control box I can't disable with an uptight Warforges' eyes burning under my flesh- things are bad enough at this point I figure. And if I survived to retell the 'manly adventure' someone may ask innocently, “How could it get worse?”. Instead of grabbing the nearest solid object and attempting to beat them to a pulp while screaming, “That's how!” I decided I'd just tell them how it could get worse: The leader deserted us to eat food, the one that could disable the trap lay face first on the floor, spread-eagle and probably dead, the Warforged on the other side of the room seemed to want to explain to me how much I didn't deserve to live, there was a beautiful Elf I'd forgotten was with us whose every word caused apocalyptic visions of destruction every time she spoke; oh, and the leader was the healer who could have fixed everything.
It was rough, incomplete and needed to be reworked a bit but it took most of my mind off the fact the leader who could have fixed everything left with the food, the thief was probably dead and both the Elf and Warforged seemed to have it in for me. Course I didn't really mind the dead thief since since his job appeared to be failing at everything he did, but the other two were creeping me out.
I needed an allay. And I could reach one. Quick turn to the right, majestic leap of faith over a very wide empty space from one crate to his stack of crates and 'there you go' instant possible friend. But, I don't know. A well-armored Halfling wielding a sword twice his size and weight as if it was not a sword it's size and weight and always spouting off about 'nobility', 'giving ones life for good', 'helping everyone and all, rich or poor, mean or nice if the outcome meant happiness' among other pointless **** along those lines- kinda a turn off. Not to mention he had such nice teeth, unnaturally white and once I swear seeing a glint of sunlight reflect off them in a pretty rainbow pattern while his lips were clenched together tight as he watched a dog chase a cat. And in the short time I've know him he never cursed. I mean who the **** never curses? No one I'd trust. And there he sits on his stack of crates like he was meant to be there, calm, unalarmed and watching everything. Just who the hell does he think he is!
I didn't need an allay that bad so looked back to the hopefully dead rogue waiting for the Flies to have a feast, whose offspring would create even more Flies that produced more Flies and wondered since all the bread was gone if it was possible to live off Fly.
“I need to speak with you.” the 'goody-shoes' said so I immediately slipped on a rather overpriced ring I picked up after the leaders and my last quest payoff, turned right, ran two steps and lept thinking, 'Well, I could use an allay for right now anyways' while at the same time thinking, 'why am I doing this?'
- - -
The Rather Overpriced Ring
At the time of purchasing the ring there was quite a selection to choose from. Shiny gold ones with skulls and rubies for eyes, beautiful silver ones with snakes painstakingly carved around their bands, some purple ones emitting more smoke then my dead Da's pig bone pipe.
“Dey all do som'ng.” The traveling salesmans fat smile was intriguing.
“What kind of something?” I mumbled over a ring I thought was black but after blowing the flames back a bit turned out to be green.
“Dat dwone' ya spit'ing on kell yer enimas- lit dem on f're whe'd dey push it on der fing'r. Entr'nl f're.”
“Eternal fire?”
“Wat I seed.”
“What's eternal fire?”
He grinned. “Don go out fer many moon tyme.”
That made no sense at all. “So I hate someone enough to want to kill them, give them a ring and they happily put it on?” I really tried holding back the sarcastic tone.
He laughed in a scary way, “Na, idjoit. Cmon enimas na goud. But a frin'd you qiet'y no be lik'n?” His grin was wide, toothless and innocently evil, “Nuder story der, eh?”
Perhaps I misjudged the amount of evil in his grin and jumped back too quickly. “Ah.” Not my style but perhaps Jokies style? “Someone maybe back for that one.”
The salesman smiled again. “Har ti lit ded, den gone.”
While I figured the salesman was probably leaving town at sunset before too many hopeful customers realized their newly purchased Ring of Disease Ward failed to protect them from the two copper per hour harlets hanging out at the port, the rings themselves were still rather fascinating and I wanted one.
Looking over the rest of the stock the salesman almost whispered, “Din jump back ta fer.”
I ignored him, I'd buy what I wanted to buy and a Ring of Jumping wasn't very exciting.
“Can jump, can ya?”
My eyes settled on a ring engraved with a fishing pole, cast into something that resembled the sea with two things that appeared to be fish-like leaping for the same single hook.
“Jump bak lik dat..”
I liked fishing, well if I ever tried it I'd probably like it, and two fish on one hook? I could eat for two days!
“..mere a step is all it twas.”
Two days if it was cold since fish rot quickly.
“Mere a lass step.”
I pointed at the fish ring, “How much?”
The salesman grinned, “553 gold. But thet nat be what ye nedn,” and he reached for a gold ring with a foot with wings engraved in it.
I was confused. “553 gold? Why not round it off to 550 or 555 gold?” The salesmans arm kept reaching for the jumping ring, “553 is stupid.”
“553 gold stup'd ta ya.” He plucked the jumping ring up. “550 gold, 555 gold mak sen'se ta ya.” His hand swung towards me holding the jumping ring. “But 553 gold mak sen'se ta me. 550, 555 gold, stup'd ta me.” He dropped the ring in front of me and it looked horrible because I couldn't jump and he realized it.
“How much?” I asked because I hated not being able to jump and wanted the ring.
The salesman's toothless smile beamed as he spread his hands, “Fer ya, 311 gold.” His lips streached ear to ear in an eeiry way.
311 gold? What was with this guy and his odd number prices? I shook my money pouch feigning contemplation but I knew how much was in there and it wasn't anywhere near 311 gold.
And apparently he knew that also because his hand came out of nowhere and swiped the ring away before I could spit on it, which I didn't want to do but if I'd known the ring was going to be paraded in front of me only to be snatched away like that I would have.
The salesman's eyes narrowed. “How muc' gold ya got?”
Not being able to jump was a sore spot in my life and he knew just where to stick the dagger and when to twist it. “52 gold”. What could I lose?
His eyes studied me for a couple seconds, eyes full of discust and wasted time, before he held up a single finger and said, “Ya so patetic, I might h've somting.” His other hand vanished under his makeshift counter, reemerging with a lump of dull something that looked like a ring.
“A rej'ct an on'y 52 gold.”
The ring was the color of Pewter and dog **** with faded barely visable etchings that appeared to have been done by a newborn.”What's a reject?” I wanted the ring anyways but was curious.
The salesman hummed in an off way. “Da 311 gold r'ng ya jump al'ays good 'n fer. Dis 'un, net so much a chn'ce of dat.” His fingers tapped the tabletop. “Net jump fer, do jump fer, jump way too fer,” he tossed his hands up, “Who knews. On'y ding fer crtin, ya net count on it.”
The salesmans smile sealed the deal and I tossed my money pouch to him, “I'll take it.” He opened the pouch, carefully counted and took all 53 gold in it and tossed me the ring. “Thanks bunches guy,” he said, “and good luck with it.”
I started to protest but the leader grabbed my arm and dragged me away so gruffly I barley had a chance to stuff the ring in a pouch.
But that was then and now is now and on first use of the ring I think I'm jumping a little too high and a little too fast to land gracefully. But I know no matter how this leap of faith turns out, at least the rogue is probably dead.
- - -
The Halfling: pre-insane, part one
Some things happen in an odd state of helpless slow motion. Such was the the leap of faith. At the point of my right foot lifting from my stand of crates and my left foot thrusting forward aiming to land on a specific spot of the Paladins stand of crates, Time stopped, laughed a little and showed me a future of trajectories I couldn't change and the future was not good. I Thank none of the gods I worship that the Paladins crates were stacked against a wall an instant before slamming into that wall and falling into a heap on the crates.
The Warforged roared with laughter, “Nice jump Flyboy!”
As I gathered myself to my knees visions of shadowed people tearing off their flesh to escape something so horrible ripping their own flesh from their bones seemed like a good idea flashed in my head and I needed to do the same. Then it was gone. Guess the Elf said something.
“Bards can't charm a wall with a kiss Elf! A sappy poem maybe, but slobber spit?” more laughter, “Should have brought flowers with you!” Never knew Warforged were capable of humor.
The Warforged's laughter echoed about the room as I crawled to the Paladin. He sat quietly staring at the rogue.
“That Elf's got a problem,” I said.
His reply was distant., “Oh?”
“Her voice.”
“It is a little tinny.”
Tinny? I knew not to explain further but his hair was so shiny. “Every time she speaks I don't know what she said but I want to kill myself.”
The Paladins head tilted just enough to signal his thought process was different from mine. “And you think she has a problem?”
- - -
The Paladin: Pre-insane part 1.5
I stared at the back of the Paladins perfectly shaped head trying to make a decision. His words didn't hurt. Weren't a spiteful stab or jab. He simply asked a question insinuating perhaps I had a problem of some sort. It was rude and I was tense. It took a couple seconds of internal debate but decided not to smash my Lute over his noggin.
His voice was deadpan, “We have to save the rogue.”
I changed my mind and reached for my Lute, “The thief is dead.” Hopefully.
“Nearly, but his back still rises with breath.”
It was a beautiful Lute. “Why do we need him?” Screwed everything up and caused this.
“We will, you just don't know it yet”
The Lute was custom made, black with painted flames pouring where the strings were plucked. Its impending destruction caused chest pains of sorrow as I gripped its neck and swung it over my shoulder. He somehow knew the thief would be useful? What was he smoking? As I tensed to swing the Paladins head turned and his eyes met mine.
“This is no time for music.”
I had to pause as two thoughts exploded into existence and began a race through my head seeming to know the prize of winning was they'd be extrapolated. Thought One tore out of the gates as if something was threating its genitals: 'The Lute was not played by grasping the neck with both white-knuckled hands and holding it over ones shoulder in a menacing way.'. But thought Two was right there biting at Thought Ones proverbial genitals: 'His eyes were odd.'. Thought One flew though the first synaptic corner and barreled into the straightaway: 'He thinks I'm going to play music?'. Thought Two entered the turn with a fury: 'He's got odd eyes', then tripped, rolled and plowed though some brain matter which made me twitch a little. Thought One ripped thought the straightaway, my right eye blinked once: 'He thinks I'm not going to hit him in the head?' Thought Two recovered from the stumble but it was too late, Thought One emerged sure-footed from turn two of the race without losing speed and bored towards the finish line, flying across it with as wide a smile a thought is capable of. I grinned, tightening my grip on the Lute and tensing up even more, ready to smash a head. Thought Two figuring it was headed towards the proverbial mindglue factory flipped off Thought One as an announcement from the officials racked the brain: Thought One was declared fouled out due to an overwhelming desire not to destroy the Lute. Thought Two, elated, trotted over and punched out Thought One then both thoughts vanished.
My strength faded and I lowered the Lute.
His eyes were odd. Everyones eyes I'd seen were not like his. Black in the middle with a band of color around it. His were just black. I was hit with a serious case of '***?'.
- - -
The Paladin Halfling: pre-insane part 2, nearing total bonkers
I sank into the blackness of the Paladins eyes and saw nothing. Something rubbed against my lower leg, wrapped around, squeezing and I wanted to be afraid, to run away screaming about the BoogyGoblin come to rape, kill, mutilate, then eat everyone else alive but the thought fled as the comfort of something spiraled, tightening around my thigh and across my stomach, circling around, pinning my arms to my side. It occurred to me I was floating in darkness probably being prey to something but didn't care because nothing mattered anymore. Pressure wrapped around my chest and rips, squeezing them with a force of calmness. As it wrapped around my head all negative thoughts stopped and I watched every thought-webbing created from the past that made me as I am crumple away leaving me happy, free, unquestioning. I felt innocent.
A voice floated through the darkness, 'Feel better?'
The vibration of the words massaged my soul, it was ecstasy. “Yea.” I gathered a chest of breath, made a mental shrug and screamed, “So **** off and die now!”
The mental webs re-grew, wrapping tightly around my psyche. Anger, ****ed off, found Innocence walking though a field of flowers, enjoying the beauty and scent, and tore her head off, kicked it across the field then picked one flower, smelled it, put it in his pocket and set the rest of the place on fire as Chaos gleefully tortured a chained Ecstasy.
I felt normal again, except for the torturing part, and opened my eyes to see the Paladin still staring at me. And he looked angry for the slightest instant before stepping back into his calm state. But an instant is all it takes to reveal weakness.
“You're a lousy leader,” he stated. I knew that. “But you are the leader.” I wished he would have kept that to himself I thought through the Warforge's renewed laughter. “So this is the plan: I'm going to save the rogue...” Sounded good to me and good luck so looked away, removed the reject ring to a pouch and maneuvered to a more comfortable sitting position on the crates.
After a couple seconds trying to get comfortable I realized it'd be much better resting my back on a wall so butt-scooted back till the comfort of the walls hardness supported me and sighed.
The Paladin cleared this throat. Must have a flem problem.
I brushed my hand over the lute and strummed it once, it really was a beautiful thing, and thought about taking a nap.
“You done?” The Paladins voice was still calm, as was his face. Beyond the Paladin the Elf was staring at me. I looked sorta-rightish and the Warforge was staring at me, it seemed I was the center of attention when that was not a good thing.
So it was two, probably three on one. About what I didn't know but I wasn't going down without a fight. Then decided I would because the thought of that nap felt so good. “Yep.”
The Paladin attempted to wormhole into my brain again, failed and relaxed, “Good. You have to pull that lever.”
Apparently I missed something. “What lever?”
His finger shot out pointing at a monsterous black lever thing an inch from my right shoulder I never noticed. “That one."
It was a question of curiosity, but not about the lever, “Why?”
- - -
The Perhaps too Level-Headed Paladin
The Paladin stared at me with those weird eyes. “You didn't listen to the plan.”
I held my tongue needing I had to be sure, “Guess not.”
The Warforged screamed, “C'mon, pull the stupid lever and let's go!”
Unrelenting pain erupted as a thousand arrows tore through my body and I gasped longing for the death they should have brought. Then it was gone.
Softly the Paladin said, “The Elf sends her love.”
And I knew.
The Paladin stood up and began the four step walk towards where I sat as my mind exploded.
Step one: I wanted to cut all his shiny hair off.
Step two: I had my answer, he wasn't perfect, he had a vindictive streak in him.
Step three: The one that claims to want to save everyone hated me. He'd leave me for dead.
Step four: He's no better then the hopefully dead rouge in disguise.
He stopped, his hand on the lever. “When you pull this lever, the gate will open. Then the Warforged and Elf will jump through.”
I was distracted by the moment but stuck in 'try to **** him off mode'. “You're right there, hand on the lever, why don't you pull it or push it or shove it in whatever direction it needs to go.”
“I would,” the Paladin turned and began his four steps back towards the crate view of the rogue, “but we're a team and right now your job is to pull that lever.”.
- - -
It's the Music, Man..
He was right.
I stood up. The Paladin was about to try and save a useless or hopefully dead thief, he tried to mind-**** me for some unknown reason, after thinking he'd leave me for dead he contradicted that thought enough that I think he might jump into a volcano crater figuring he could drag my crispy carcass from the lava and he appears to be very level-headed. What a bastard. If it wasn't for the fact he manged to deftly usurp the leadership of the group out from under me I would have shoved him off the crates myself and let the traps have a meal of him. So I owed him one.
I readied the lute and did a smooth long armed strum down the strings. They all sounded good enough. I was going to pay him back by rallying him to his cause.
The Paladin spun around, his face full with a beaming frown of non-delight. “Pull the lever.”
“In a minute.”. Out of 6 strings I decided to alternate plucking the third and sixths strings in rapid succession. It seemed to create a nice base layer for the coming situation, one string high and the other low, a tense but hopeful atmosphere.
The Paladin asked, “What are you doing?”
I plucked those two strings for a little bit. “Inspiring you.”
My left hand did this contorted thing on the neck I'd seen another lute player do once and plucked the second string, the tone adding a sense of mystery to the whole piece, then went back to the third and sixth string. Yea, that sounded good so did it a couple more times.
“Why?”
I ignored the Paladin, adding the first string into the mix. This was getting good. I missed a string, my fingers slamming against the wood making a 'thonk' sound that fit the whole rhythm so added it to the beat.
I think someone said something but I was falling into the 'zone' and only felt the running of my fingers though the chords as the pace quickened as I plucked harder and faster and did that contorted thing with my left hand more often and the lutes painted flames burned to life licking my fingers with pain as my head slammed forward and back and forward and back and my hair was whipping around and my neck was killing me but I didn't care because it was the music man and it was so ****ing godlike I fell to my knees, arched my back to stare at the ceiling and closed my eyes for the ending as I plucked and held the fifth string, feeling the sustain ring out but it faded too fast so plucked and held it again, my whole body shaking I had to scream so did and released the string shooting my fist into the air.
I hunched forward, exhausted, expended and wanted a smoke. The room was silent save my pants for breath.
“He dying?” The Worforged shouted.
I searched for my legs, found them and rose unsteadily to my feet.
The Warforged shouted again, “Oh, maybe the fit wasn't as nasty as it appeared.”
I looked at the Paladins unreadable face and gasped, “You have four minutes.”
His eyebrows lifted, “Until you pull the lever?”
I grinned, what a bastard, “Until you have no chance.”
He turned and faced the stupid better-be-dead rogue again. “Then we should make this quick.”
My breathing was starting to slow, “Yea.”
“Incidentally, you do know there's no strings on your Lute?”
I'd heard it before. Looked at my blistered fingertips, swollen as if stuck in a campfire, I strummed the Lute once, put it away, turned and grasped the lever. “Less then four minutes now,” and pulled the lever.
It didn't move.
I pulled the lever again but it stayed still.
The Paladin screamed, “Pull the lever!”
Already tense, this wasn't a nice situation and I braced my foot on the wall and pulled till several things hidden under my skin felt like they'd explode but the lever stayed still, flipping me the metaphorical finger of badness.
“Pull. The. Lever!”
I'd had enough. “I ****ing pulled the mother-butt-****ing lever!” I shouted, “More then twice! It doesn't feel like being pulled! As a matter of fact it seems to have a sever aversion towards the whole pulling idea!” I leaned on the lever in defiance and all hades broke lose as the lever sank.
What happended next was nearly lost to me. A gate clattered open nearby I'd never noticed was there. The Warforged hooting like an ape shot through the gate, the traps exploded as the Paladin jumped to save the useless rouge, there were screams of pain and I thought the paladin was going down as I jumped from the crates through the gate to safety. I remember seeing him, the rogue slung over his shoulder, he was screaming out how rightiousness would prevail over all as the traps howled for his death before he collapsed five feet from the gate. Something cartwheeled past me in a blur and the rogue was suddenly flying in my direction. I remember side-stepping, there was a grunt of uncouncious pain as the rogue landed in the dirt and I smiled an instant before dodging yet another air-borne halfling that also grunted in landing and my smile didn't waver when something hit me hard enough to knock me off my feet and pinned the to the ground.
The Elf straddled my chest and, staring at me with those beautiful eyes opened her sensuous lips and spoke..and I screamed as daggers flayed my skin.
She closed her mouth and smiled, lifted herself off and walked away.
- - -
Murder
Lying on my back in the dirt, listening to the traps explode, trying to stare through the blackness above to perceive what kind of ceiling was hidden there, ignoring the burning spot where the Elf mounted my chest- it was comfortable and I closed my eyes.
**
The rain poured down that day. “There are leaders and followers! Who are you!”
I was walking past the local militia in training in an unknown town and had to stop and watch. All five men in a line facing the single man screamed in unison, “Leaders!”.
The single man paced in the mud and screamed, “And what do leaders do!”
It sounded like twice the many men, “Lead!”
Figured it was Officers training.
The single man crouched and spun around, “And where do they lead!”
“To Victory!”
“And victory is defined how!” he straighted erect.
“By what you say!”
The single man began pacing again. “And is achieved how!”
“By any means possible!”
A wrinkled man grasped my elbow, “Lik ur army?”
I didn't want to be rude. “From the left, the first man has a cowards gait to him, the fourth isn't into the idea of leading and the fifth is holding a flower. The other two would make good leaders for your towns troops though.”
The wrinkled man coughed and spit a large ugly flem my eyes followed from his lips to the ground where it stuck in a ball, the yellow and black streaked gooey mass quivering in interrupted momentum. It looked very not healthy. “Tis ur army.”
“And if victory is impossible!”
I wasn't sure what the old man meant, “That's your army? All of it?”
The old mans nearly toothless grin was innocent.
“Kill everyone and burn the town down!”
The old man was dead anyways but I had to get out of here before this place was attacked.
**
My eyes flicked open as my chest hitched with breath, I'd gotten out and was now lying on my back in the dirt listening to traps go off. I turned my head and saw the Paladin in a crumpled heap, on the other side of me the rogue lay still. The few hopes left packed their bags and left without turning off the lights as I noticed the rogues chest rise and fall. Still alive. Idiot couldn't even die right.
I wanted to drag the sharp side of my dagger across his throat and take a nap dispite the possible blood stream. It was a minor thought but he was in reach and pretty small. I could just reach out and drag him towards me and slit his throat without even standing up. But I couldn't do it without getting caught by someone. I looked around, we were alone the Rogue, Paladin and I. Maybe? I could fake being asleep if needed and either claim I was passed out at the time of death or blame the Paladin. Sounded like a good enough plan, little faulty on the unconscious Paladin killing a helpless Rogue but I'd make a good character witness for the prosecution. I knew it was impossible to achieve as I reached out, grasped the thief and slowly, quietly dragged him closer.
The traps still exploded.
The scraping dirt as the rogue slid over it roared in my ears, everyone had to have heard it. I stopped, held my breath and looked around, the Paladin was still knocked out and no one was in sight.
I pulled the Rogue closer, enduring the scraping echoing in my head, calling out to everything my intentions of doing a bad, horrible, diabolical thing. Who couldn't have known what I was about to do with all the racket the Rogues dragged body was making?
The traps cried. I held the thiefs head and stroked his hair back. He deserves this. He was useless up to now, he'd be useless in the future, he was a threat to the rest of the party. I pulled out my dagger. The traps whined, and ran it softly across his throat. He'd kill us all.
The traps screamed as the thief opened his eyes wide and a gruff voice shouted out, “Oy! Ouch! These things still active!? Makes the goings rough it does!”
- - -
The Dwarf
“Ouch! Mother of ale that was a sneaky spot to hide one!”
The leader was heading back and when an opportunity happens, grab it or lose it. I wanted the rogue dead, but I didn't want to do it. At this range anyways but he didn't have to know that. So I screwed my face into something I hoped looked sadistic and tapped the side of my blade against his throat and whispered, “You need to pay attention and concentrate, are you paying attention?” The rogue blinked his wide eyes. “That's a yes even if it wasn't because to me it was a yes.” The rogue blinked again. “If you can't open one more lock or spot and disable one more trap you can sleep if you want but I'll be awake.” I tapped his throat again. Sounded vicious enough I guessed. “Understand?” The rogue blinked and I smiled, “Good,” and threw him away where he landed in a contorted mess of a heap as the Leader burst through the gate.
He was breathing hard and kneeled down, “Playing with the rogue?”
“Was about to kill him till you showed up.”
He grunted, started to raise his hand to stroke his beard and in mid-raise must have remembered why he shaved it off as he softly mumbled, lowering his hand. “Eh.” His eyes looked around. “Where's the others?”
My left hand casually pointed leftwards. “Down there somewhere.”
He looked back to the trap room briefly.
“The rogue caused this,” I offered.
He sighed, “Yea. You documenting it all?”
He always asked that question at odd times. “Haven't had a chance.”
He stood and stretched. “I can fix this, I'll talk to the others, heal these two up and we'll camp for a few hours and you can write.”
I stopped being surprised with him months ago but was curious. “What about ..”
“Not now, we'll talk later, have to find the others. And don't kill the rogue, we'll need him.” And he waddled-ran to the left. His run always made me smile even when we were about to die. He bounced from left to right his cloak confused which way to go next.
I scooted till my back was against the wall. The leader was back and I had so many questions to ask. I glanced at the Paladin, was he aware what he was in for? Didn't seem the type. I snuggled into a comfortable niche and looked at the rogue. What was so important about that failure of a living being? My eyes were heavy, seemed like a good time for that nap so drifted off to sleep wondering if the Dwarf saved any of the food.
- - -
Dreamtime...
The rogues eyes called for mercy as my dagger bit into his throat.
“It's easy,” Jokie said, “just push and pull.”
“But he's looking at me.”
Jokie touched my shoulder and whispered in my ear, 'That's the best part sugar.”
- - -
Dreamtime..
The entire town was aflame as I ran through the rain and mud trying to ignore the screams of horror and battle and I tripped, eating mud. I scrambled to my feet trying to get up, oh everything I never worshiped I had to get up or I'd die but I couldn't get up, the mud was too slick and I floundered as my heart pounded and saw him, the wrinkled man with the grin and flem and cut throat, blood pouring into the mud and the Officer holding the flower laughing as he stood over the man. He saw me and charged and I flopped and slid in the mud screaming, “Don't kill me, don't kill me, I'm not from here!”
Jokie laughed.
- - -
Dreamtime.
It was too dark to see but I could smell her blooming lips nearby. “Jokie?”
The silence reverberated into a physical essence throbbing though my limbs...
“Jokie?”
..that slowly crushed my soul.
- - -
Drameitme?
The flower killer stood over me and smiled revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth crawling with maggots. “Okay, fine, kill me just please don't breathe on me!” His sword swung.
My eyelids shot open as my head flew across the muddy courtyard. The gate was open and the traps had turned off and noticed a hole in my shoe.
The Warforgeds laugher was just this side of hearing, “And he fell to his knees and started shaking...”
My head was spinning as it arched seeing mud, grinning psycho with a flower, sky, mud..
The Dwarf choked, “Did he do that fist thing in the air? I love that..”
More mud, psycho, flower, what kind, looked familiar, hello sky. I wanted to stop the spinning but my hands were too far away, tried anyways to no avail, useless hands..
The Paladin and Rogue were gone. More distant laughter, “Yep, right after he screamed..”
My head hit the mud and stuck like thick spit, mud filling my left ear, her breath filling my right, “I trusted you..”
I couldn't move, staring at the gate the flower killer was there laughing a waterfall of maggots over my body lacking a head. It was gross but a dream and I was awake so hello rest of the brain, catch up!
“Ah the fist,” the leader chuckled, “his finale. It's odd..never heard anything as he contorted but afterwards, things seemed..better for a time.”
I couldn't see while I could see as she thrust her tongue in my ear.
I really wanted the Warforged to shut up as he asked, “Better for four minutes?” More laughter as Jokie whispered, “You betrayed me.”
Normalness strolled in saying, 'Hi!' and I felt Jokie flee. I asked my right leg to raise 2 inches and it responded immediately raising about 3 inches. Close enough. I was awake.
I stood up and stretched, listening to the cartlidge pop and feeling the muscles rip. The party was a little ways away sitting inside a campfire and it looked warm and I was cold so began walking to them but my left leg was too numb to move. So only made it one step.
I tried brute force and dragging the leg, it wouldn't budge.
I tried demeaning the leg into submission: “The right leg moved, buck up, you don't want to be known as the left leg do you?”
The left leg simply stared as something barreled into me throwing me to the ground. “I trusted you! I trusted you! I trusted you! I trusted you!”
I couldn't breathe..
“I trusted you! I trusted you! I trusted you! I trusted you!”
- - -
Bad Begets Bad?
My eyes opened wide and through the dancing color spots the rouges face was huge and yammering mouth huger. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” He screamed leaning closer, one hand over my mouth the other clenching closed my nostrils.
There was no doubt, this was too familiar, definitely awake this time.
Spit leaked from his mouth sliding down my cheek. “Wanna kill me?” he whispered in a ****ed off way. My lungs burned as I reached for the thought in a fog: No, I didn't want to kill him, watch him die, yes..
In chains Karma started strolling around in my head throwing things around preaching about how bad begets bad as a spot of green sparkled across my vision.
“You should have instead of being a ball-less coward.” His hand over my mouth tightened as his grin widened. Hadn't noticed how nice his teeth were before. I tried throwing the runt off but the muscles wouldn't cooperate. My lungs began pounding and screaming to do their job.
“This is what happens!” Karma shouted to the rest of the brain, “When you desire to do something bad to another!” The Lungs petitioned the Brain Hierarchy to leave in a violent way and Karma ran to its chains extent, straining to stretch further, “Even the Lungs, they know! Bad begets bad! Hear me and know! The Lungs want to flee, the Muscles have given up and Sight, poor Sight is even failing!”
The Brain Hierarchy hummed in thought as Karma fought its chains, chewing on them and screaming, “The order of the cosmos is why this is happening, can't you see that?”
The green spots faded to black, he had nice eyes also.
Karma jumped around tugging its chains, “Sights gone! Sights gone! The cosmos have judged us from our choices can't you all see that? Are you as blind as Sight? Are you all fools? Free me before it's too late so you can learn!”
Cause And Effect appeared before Karma in a shadowed cloud.
Karma fell to it's knees spitting at the figure, “You're a lie! You can't keep me down the truth will be revealed, my truth! You're a fake!”
The shadowed figure punched Karma in the throat.
I coughed and hitched for the breath lost in the cough.
Feeling as if run over by a bloodthirsty herd of Ogres on a mission of death that suddenly forgot where they were going and retreated stomping back over me I rolled on my side trying to breathe and decide if I was elated to be alive or ****ed off having to deal with this pain again.
This time like the last, the asphyxiation was panic and horror, attempting to breathe but couldn't and wanting that air failing every attempt to get it, realizing I was going to die, no might, maybe or possibly, I was going to die. What I did to get in the situation, there was no out or escape, I was dead but still tried to fight, failing hopelessly. Then the calmness settled, it was impossible to fight back anymore, the body shut down, the mind said, “Whatever” and I wanted that death, loved it, basked in the release. Then the release was taken away and I could breathe again.
I gained my knees, muscles screaming and stabbing.
But unlike the last time, this time didn't involve a hugely obese Harlot that rolled over allowing me to breathe again, waking up a seriously ticked body to take it's unbearable piercing anger out on me and mine. This time involved a stupid short son of a ******** idiot thief, the latest sperm waste in a long line of genetic moronic ****ups, a line that should have been stomped out long, long ago.
I took my feet, wheezing, deciding to be ****ed and looked around. Open gate, sprawled out Rogue, dirt floor, no traps blowing off. It occurred to me this didn't make any sense but I was alone with the Rogue and was suddenly elated to be alive.
Swords sliced my legs as I shuffled to the thief. He looked solidly unconscious and I smiled. My voice was light and soft, “You awake?” The rogue didn't move, blood leaked from his skull but his chest still moved, good enough. “I didn't kill you before and won't now,” I shuffled back two steps, “but you're going to feel like me when you wake up. Bad begets bad you know..” My feet moved forward, right foot thrusting into the Rogues gut, he gained a little air before hitting the dirt in a limb-flopping multi-roll tumble, resting a contorted mess.
I should have enjoyed it. He was a useless waste, a threat to the party, tried to kill me and I really wanted to kick him again. But couldn't.
I Sighed. 'What was the point of him?' I wondered and went in search of the party.
- - -
Name Game
30-40 minutes later:
Flipping through the pages of the memoir the leader didn't look happy. “This is what I'm talking about.” A page was thrust in my face and shaken around.
“What are you talking about?” I couldn't focus on anything.
“This, right here.” A stubby finger began poking the page making things worse.
“Stop that,” I said grabbing the page from his hand and began reading.
Th rom ws trapd. Thef ded. Stonman cryg. We wer domed, futre of eatg ded Thef mak us sad. Elf unconcus frm panc. But thn Drankistids bak, trn off trap, slaay huge hedles men thig frm othr plac, breth lif in stopid thef an raz mity club wif victry an we mny hapy and praze him.
He always had to nit-pick the journals. “What? It reads fine! Far as I'm concerned what I wrote happened. You told me to embellish.”
The dwarf sighed, “What you wrote happened but who's Drankistid?”
Here we go again. “You.”
“Me.”
“You.”
He scratched his hairy leg. “Me?”
I was starting to get a little uncomfortable, the last twenty-five times this happened he wouldn't heal me for a week. Knew I should have just called him the Leader but he looked like a Drankistid so took the chance.
The Dwarf shifted around. “You get my name wrong every time you write it.”
Ah ****. I tried not to squirm.
He leaned forward squinting, “You do know my name?”
I wasn't stupid enough to believe what he asked was a question. It was a statement and he was questioning my abilities as his personal documenter.
“I'm famous.”
- - -
When gods Talk
In the distance the Elf was leaning over the Thief tending to his head wound, so limber. Her long fingers delicatly worked over the fabric absorbing his blood. Did she even notice the enormous grin plasted across the Thiefs face? Or his wandering eyes trying to peek though the cracks of her leather armor? And why did I care anyways because I didn't and I'm not getting angry and not regretting not slitting that little rots throat when I had the chance the stupid puke of a dung-worm piece of..
The Leader tapped me on the chest and my eyes snapped to his as I screamed, “What!” before I could control myself. I felt horrible watching the color drain from his face but I realized the opportunity to get out of the whole 'what's his name' thing. Maybe without punishment. I leaned forward, “What is it that you want little man?” His color came back quick. Not good but I pressed on hopeful. “Tell me, right now what you want to know!” He already did tell me but maybe I could confuse him. He was starting to look angry but too late to turn back now, “Because I don't ****ing know what this conversation is about anymore!” He was looking like he wanted to beat me into a puddle.
My face was stone anger, eyes gleaming (I hoped) when the Leader began his retaliation, “Ya list'n ta me ya son of a *****!” Accent alert, I failed. Pits.
Then the proverbial clouds parted, trumpets tooted, fairies sang a catchy tune and the gods had a meeting.
The gathered crowd echoed from booming whispers and earthquake causing backslaps as gods from all times and dimensions heeded the call to join in a decision.
It wasn't a life or death decision and in the grand scheme of god-type things it really meant nothing but so many showed up because it was rare the lesser gods could voice their opinions on decisions the higher gods had already made and not acted on due to even higher gods then them demanding the less higher gods hold a gathering to get and discard the opinions of the lesser gods. For morale purposes.
The meetings main god pounded his anvil and destroyed a planet. “Attention all gods here!”
The voice was whiney but loud, “Hey! That was my favorite planet!”
“Attention!”
“Wait! In their time I've been developing it for 15.284 billion years!”
The room grumbled as the fairies sang.
“Shut up! Come to order now! File the proper paperwork and it'll be reviewed.”
“But..”
The room shook, “NO BUTS!” And the room became quiet. The god of Silence thought about dropping a pin then made a note to talk to his shrink and his drycleaner.
The main god sighed deeply starting what would be known as the 'Black Plague' on a small planet no one really cared about. “Everyone have their numbers?”
The room grumbled about the number system. Some god piped up, “What number are you?”
The main god grumbled and an unknown replitian race died as their planet entered an instant ice age. A god in the crowd began to cry quietly. “I'm number one, I look over the leader. Number two in this decision looks over the Bard in the situation..”
“So where is number two?”
“What?”
“Where is number two?”
“What number are you?” The main god demanded.
The fairies keep singing, beginning to wonder why this was taking so long.
The god of Instilling Doubt Just To **** Someone Off looked at his card. “Number 5679438.”
Scanning the enormous crowd the main god gave up locating number 5679438. “It doesn't matter where number two is.”
The crowd made milling noises as the fairies sang.
“But your godness, it does matter. This meeting was called to decide a decision between two gods and the other god is vacant therefore if we continue this discussion without all involved parties a voice will be unheard leading this whole discussion invalid.”
The main god lost it. “God number two. He's my pal and he's in the can crapping out a new universe because the god of Cooking had a barbaque at the god of Eternal Heats place and the mayonaise went bad in the Chicken Salad..what am I explaining this for.. **** you, this is my meeting and I speak for him you *******!” He breathed a couple harsh breaths getting himself under control as the vegitation on several new worlds sprung to life strangeling out the newly evolving life there and another god moaned.
The main god huffed, stupid formalities. “Okay, here's the deal. The Bard and the leader are having a situation..”
Another god piped up, “Number 4376, I look over the Elf, can I influnce the situation?”
The fairies sang, glancing at each other.
Just wanting to get through this the main god mumbled, “Fine, whatever, no killing.” The main god shut out the thoughts screaming, “Wrong thing to say!” and exhausted yelled out, “The leader is going to kill the Bard. Decision final, thank you for your help!” The god raised his arms as darkness consumed the meeting, scattering the lesser gods like reverse cockroaches. “Thanks for coming your help was vital to this decision and something kill those fairies.” Hades minions responded with instant groteque violence.
The main god floundered in the dark for a seat, found one and relaxing sighed.
The god of Darkness said, “Comfy? Got some bad news..”
- - -
Back to the Roots
Dwarfs claim their facial expressions are unique, that they could be happy while they grimiced, and angry for blood while they smiled. But in my experience their expressions are exactly the same as humans unless they're completely insane in which case they'd still be the same as humans. And the leader right now was looking at me in a very angry scary way.
I had to ask, “Something wrong?”
“Na.” he grumbled, shifting to the right.
His knuckles were white gripping his mace. “Sure?”
“Yep.”
“Looking sorta anxious.”
With sunken eyes he growled and took a step back, “I'm fine.”
The stare of his blue eyes was intense. Had to change the subject fast, “So finish getting the journals up to date then?”
“You do that.”
I started to turn away, it was a close call about the name thing but I'm a professional liar and cheat, it's what I do and this was nothing different when he asked softly, “What's my name?”
I stopped as something spidery plucked at my nerves and my knees felt weak. Someone once described something they called an 'epiphany' as knowing everything about a situation as an overwhelming explosion of realization. Always thought it was a load of **** till now. I've nearly killed people for copper bits, conned and stole for small trinkets while lying and using everyone to get what I needed so why was my mind suddenly fighting a war between blinding him with ******** and telling him the truth?
I couldn't look at anything but the hole in my shoe. The war ended. We'd traveled months together, I liked him, he was a friend and I'd never had one one before. It was time for a truth, he deserved it. “You never told me your name.”
The pain was intense and short as his mace bounced off my head in a spray of blood and chunks of bone. Karma broke free of its chains jumping around screaming, “See, proof! Proof! And you all..” Cause and Effect snapped Karmas neck before the minions of hades burst in my mind and tore Cause and Effect to pieces.
I wanted to try and figure out how to get out of the situation but it was too dark and getting darker by each second. Feeling sloppy dirt in my gripped fist a minion walked up and handed me a memory, gave me the finger and laughed as he ran away.
The memory was blurred and erratic as my mind shut down. I had to get out of this situation but the memory was a distraction, calling to me, demanding to be realized.
The dirt, was it dirt? turned liquid and as I fought to keep my head above water, the waves of blood and despair I'd caused lapped against my mouth tasting of victory. Something grabbed my ankle, pulling me under and I saw her face full of smiling hate as Jokie dragged me deeper into the depths.
“I trusted you.”
She did but that was her fault. Raising my free leg I stomped her in the face, once, twice, three times before her grip loosened enough to break free. She sank as I flailed to rise, heading for the light I knew was somewhere above beyond the blackness.
The blackness parted to the light and I swam to it when something grabbed my leg, holding me under and I kicked breaking free just before something else grabbed my arm, and something else my legs, and something else my chest, something else my neck, hands sprung out invading every part of me holding me under and I fought them all hitting, kicking and flailing until exhaustion set in and I could only twitch in defense.
They dragged me down through the depths, screaming about stolen horses and ruined families, suicides I'd caused from my actions, people who were burned at the stake from my schemes. I could do nothing but listen, thinking all their woes involved me, yes, but I never intended the end results, so was what they were saying my fault?
Sinking deeper, the light above slowly faded to grey as the memory made it's way out of its haze. “Oh. He did tell me his name.” The light flicked out.
The End.
- - - - - - - - -
*Didn't re-write a thing, just did a copy and paste. Thought about re-writing, but eh. At least 2 episodes didn't have the proper breaks in the back up so just ran them into the prior episode. Last part lost the title so made up a new one. Also, for anyone who thought this story sucked the first time and didn't say so..your fault. :) And yes, I'm arrogant and figured since the episodes were originally written drunk, why not compile them that way?
Tober