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Inept Minions
Sighing bitterly, Hamster II wandered out of the graveyard. He
casually pocketed two or three pieces of cheap, nasty jewellery that
the zombies had been carrying, added a couple of bits of gold to his
inadequate supply, and headed for the camp.
Gold! That was another thing. He wanted to buy Warriv's wagon, or
failing that, at least hire somebody to kill Warriv so he could take
the wagon and ride away. West. This was important. He didn't want to
go east, because he'd heard unpleasant things about east and didn't
want to explore them any further. He was a necromancer, sure enough -
Barry proved that with grinning, chuckling elegance - but there were
some things he just didn't want to bother himself with. Bloodraven had
seemed like an interesting option, a profitable potential for mutual
gain, but it was not to be. She'd been determined that he join as a
junior partner, and all her junior partners had been ... well,
zombies. It seemed there was no such thing in this world as a bit of
professional courtesy, let alone camaraderie. Well, so be it.
So he didn't have much in the way of gold. Every time he got some, he
ended up having to spend it. This whole point put him in a very deep
brown mood as he made his way back through the Cold Plains towards the
Waygate, letting the Barry gang take care of spitting hedgehogs and
red guys who shouted "Colenzo!" and "Rakanishu!" for no readily
apparent reason. While he walked, he turned the crossbow over and over
in his hands. It looked pretty shabby, but it was better than the
stick. Fascinated in spite of himself, and interested in seeing
whether he could learn more about it, he pulled a scroll from his
pocket. It was a battered old thing that he'd found, inexplicably, on
a reanimated skeleton. Even more silly, when he held the scroll in one
hand and the crossbow in the other, the writing on the scroll suddenly
decided to be all about the crossbow.
"Congratulations," he read aloud in a low, disgusted mutter. "You have
decided to purchase 'Bitter Quill', a light crossbow in the famed
'unique' range. With several astonishing features like added poison
damage, enhancements to attack rating and a boost to your personal
mana after each kill, Bitter Quill is your one-stop marketplace for
slaying, maiming, and mild flesh-wounds ... sheesh."
Hamster II lowered the scroll and looked at the crossbow - the Bitter
Quill - again. It still looked shabby. When he sighed and looked at
his other hand, the scroll had vanished with that annoying lack of
explanation so typical of things in the universe into which he'd
inexplicably materialised. With another heavy sigh, he looked into the
distance and saw the Waygate. It was surrounded by spear-waving
grey-skinned demonesses, and his small team of eager-to-please Barries
seemed to be having a hard time of it.
With a shrug, Hamster II raised Bitter Quill to shoulder height and
got one of the moaning women in his sights. He squeezed the trigger,
and nothing happened.
"No ammo," he grunted, and waded into the fight, swinging with his
busted-up old stick and his old buckler.
Shortly afterwards, he arrived back in the Rogue encampment, battling
seasickness from the rickety old Waygate spell, wiping splatters of
semi-congealed demon-gore off his Arctic Furs and looking around to
make sure all his skeletons were in order and in the off-chance that
somebody had noticed his heroic entrance. His shoulders slumped
hopelessly before he realised that several people were in fact looking
at him with weird facial expressions.
It was, on a grudging closer inspection, admiration. He'd never seen
it before, but Charsi was standing on her anvil and gazing across at
him, Warriv was gaping in awe, and Kashya was staring at him
girlishly, jumping from foot to foot as if she desperately wanted to
talk to him or go to the toilet or both.
"Looks like we're finally getting through to them," he said out of the
corner of his mouth. Barry grinned as only Barry could.
"Yeah," he said, and chortled. "Yeah, whatever you say, boss, cool."
Hamster II sauntered over to Kashya.
"Privies are over there," he said, pointing intentionally towards
Akara's tent, "and if you're wondering about all this blood, most of
it isn't mine at-"
"I can hardly believe that you've defeated Bloodraven!" Kashya gushed,
somehow knowing - just like everybody else in camp had somehow known -
that this was his piece of big news.
"What, do you people stand on the walls and watch me or something?"
Hamster II snapped. "Anyway, yeah, well, she didn't give me a choice.
Look, she left me this cool crossbow in, um, her last will and, er,
testament, it's called Bitter Quill. Your one-stop marketplace for
something. How much will you give me for - who is this?"
Kashya had the grace to look embarrassed as she pushed the Rogue
forward. The Rogue, as far as Hamster II could tell, had no grace
whatsoever. She had pigtails, and a big foolish grin, and looked happy
to be alive. This last feature was the dead giveaway of an imbecile to
Hamster II.
"This is Fiona," Kashya said. "She'll be your new partner."
"Oh no," Hamster II snapped. "Oh no, I work alone."
"Yeah," Barry agreed. "Yeah, alone, he works alone, the boss works
alone."
"Totally," Barry agreed.
"He's, like, the lone wolf," Barry added. "Totally lone."
"Mnuuuuurh," said a large brown thing suddenly standing nearby.
Hamster II, in his bemused state of mind, momentarily confused it with
a cow. But it wasn't a cow. It looked sort of like Gheed, except it
was made entirely of clay, rather than just having a brain made out of
it.
"Where did you come from?"
"Muh," said the golem. "Murf."
"This is going to be fun!" Fiona enthused.
C&J
--
Beware of Trojans, they're complete smegheads.
- 13 & 13b of 12, the CMM Collective.
- www.afrj-monkeyhouse.org
Inept Minions
Sighing bitterly, Hamster II wandered out of the graveyard. He
casually pocketed two or three pieces of cheap, nasty jewellery that
the zombies had been carrying, added a couple of bits of gold to his
inadequate supply, and headed for the camp.
Gold! That was another thing. He wanted to buy Warriv's wagon, or
failing that, at least hire somebody to kill Warriv so he could take
the wagon and ride away. West. This was important. He didn't want to
go east, because he'd heard unpleasant things about east and didn't
want to explore them any further. He was a necromancer, sure enough -
Barry proved that with grinning, chuckling elegance - but there were
some things he just didn't want to bother himself with. Bloodraven had
seemed like an interesting option, a profitable potential for mutual
gain, but it was not to be. She'd been determined that he join as a
junior partner, and all her junior partners had been ... well,
zombies. It seemed there was no such thing in this world as a bit of
professional courtesy, let alone camaraderie. Well, so be it.
So he didn't have much in the way of gold. Every time he got some, he
ended up having to spend it. This whole point put him in a very deep
brown mood as he made his way back through the Cold Plains towards the
Waygate, letting the Barry gang take care of spitting hedgehogs and
red guys who shouted "Colenzo!" and "Rakanishu!" for no readily
apparent reason. While he walked, he turned the crossbow over and over
in his hands. It looked pretty shabby, but it was better than the
stick. Fascinated in spite of himself, and interested in seeing
whether he could learn more about it, he pulled a scroll from his
pocket. It was a battered old thing that he'd found, inexplicably, on
a reanimated skeleton. Even more silly, when he held the scroll in one
hand and the crossbow in the other, the writing on the scroll suddenly
decided to be all about the crossbow.
"Congratulations," he read aloud in a low, disgusted mutter. "You have
decided to purchase 'Bitter Quill', a light crossbow in the famed
'unique' range. With several astonishing features like added poison
damage, enhancements to attack rating and a boost to your personal
mana after each kill, Bitter Quill is your one-stop marketplace for
slaying, maiming, and mild flesh-wounds ... sheesh."
Hamster II lowered the scroll and looked at the crossbow - the Bitter
Quill - again. It still looked shabby. When he sighed and looked at
his other hand, the scroll had vanished with that annoying lack of
explanation so typical of things in the universe into which he'd
inexplicably materialised. With another heavy sigh, he looked into the
distance and saw the Waygate. It was surrounded by spear-waving
grey-skinned demonesses, and his small team of eager-to-please Barries
seemed to be having a hard time of it.
With a shrug, Hamster II raised Bitter Quill to shoulder height and
got one of the moaning women in his sights. He squeezed the trigger,
and nothing happened.
"No ammo," he grunted, and waded into the fight, swinging with his
busted-up old stick and his old buckler.
Shortly afterwards, he arrived back in the Rogue encampment, battling
seasickness from the rickety old Waygate spell, wiping splatters of
semi-congealed demon-gore off his Arctic Furs and looking around to
make sure all his skeletons were in order and in the off-chance that
somebody had noticed his heroic entrance. His shoulders slumped
hopelessly before he realised that several people were in fact looking
at him with weird facial expressions.
It was, on a grudging closer inspection, admiration. He'd never seen
it before, but Charsi was standing on her anvil and gazing across at
him, Warriv was gaping in awe, and Kashya was staring at him
girlishly, jumping from foot to foot as if she desperately wanted to
talk to him or go to the toilet or both.
"Looks like we're finally getting through to them," he said out of the
corner of his mouth. Barry grinned as only Barry could.
"Yeah," he said, and chortled. "Yeah, whatever you say, boss, cool."
Hamster II sauntered over to Kashya.
"Privies are over there," he said, pointing intentionally towards
Akara's tent, "and if you're wondering about all this blood, most of
it isn't mine at-"
"I can hardly believe that you've defeated Bloodraven!" Kashya gushed,
somehow knowing - just like everybody else in camp had somehow known -
that this was his piece of big news.
"What, do you people stand on the walls and watch me or something?"
Hamster II snapped. "Anyway, yeah, well, she didn't give me a choice.
Look, she left me this cool crossbow in, um, her last will and, er,
testament, it's called Bitter Quill. Your one-stop marketplace for
something. How much will you give me for - who is this?"
Kashya had the grace to look embarrassed as she pushed the Rogue
forward. The Rogue, as far as Hamster II could tell, had no grace
whatsoever. She had pigtails, and a big foolish grin, and looked happy
to be alive. This last feature was the dead giveaway of an imbecile to
Hamster II.
"This is Fiona," Kashya said. "She'll be your new partner."
"Oh no," Hamster II snapped. "Oh no, I work alone."
"Yeah," Barry agreed. "Yeah, alone, he works alone, the boss works
alone."
"Totally," Barry agreed.
"He's, like, the lone wolf," Barry added. "Totally lone."
"Mnuuuuurh," said a large brown thing suddenly standing nearby.
Hamster II, in his bemused state of mind, momentarily confused it with
a cow. But it wasn't a cow. It looked sort of like Gheed, except it
was made entirely of clay, rather than just having a brain made out of
it.
"Where did you come from?"
"Muh," said the golem. "Murf."
"This is going to be fun!" Fiona enthused.
C&J
--
Beware of Trojans, they're complete smegheads.
- 13 & 13b of 12, the CMM Collective.
- www.afrj-monkeyhouse.org
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