10-08-2003, 04:26 PM
Bard Comedy of Errors
Or
“Why I Can’t Return to Sol B”
I was levitating while running through the snowy hills of the Dreadlands when I felt something sting my neck. I stopped and put my hand to a bloody spot.
“That’s odd.” I thought. But before I could finish the thought I passed out.
From a distance the well trained ranger took aim, waited, judged the air speed, and loosed his arrow. The speeding bard ran over his head by one hundred feet, caught up to the arrow, and passed it just as the ranger had planned. Shooting bards was a tough business, and only the best made a profit at it. The poisoned arrow made contact with the shiny green blur and soon the bard stopped. The ranger was well pleased with himself before he realized that his knock-out potion was working too fast. His captor fell asleep at a hundred feet in the air! The body plummeted to the ground several hundred yards in front of him, hit the hill, and began to flop down the hill side. Quirk the ranger was already seeing pictures of delivering a broken limbed bard and grimaced. Quickly he stood up and began running towards the site.
A halfling druid was shouting with every step “Porting for Donations!” as he neared the Dreadlands tunnel. He heard faintly from above him, “That’s odd!” and was suddenly struck by a body. The two bodies twisted and turned rolling downhill through snow until they were covered in it. After what seemed an eternity, the bodies quit moving, and they were surrounded by white snow. The halfling, Jeohn as known to his friends, could not tell which way was up, and he began to panic.
“HELP! HELP! There’s a dead human on me!! HELP! HELP!” he screamed
A nearby giant heard the screams and interpreted them as lunch. Running towards the sight he saw a ranger dart between his legs.
“I’d be quiet if I were you, there’s a hungry giant looking for you!” shouted Quirk as he began to dig. The giant was catching up rather quickly.
“I’ll be right back!”
Quirk began to distract the giant while the halfling began to dig in the direction he heard the voice from. Inside he was completely horrified and his digging and breathing proved he was panicking.
“GET ME AWAY FROM THIS CORPSE!” he screamed. Nearby the ranger had successfully distracted the giant with some arrows, when he began to wonder to himself, “okay, now I have this giant after me, how am I going to get that bard out of the snow? I guess I have to kill this giant first, then go after him.” He proceeded to begin the long task of killing the giant.
As soon as the giant heard the halflings cries again, he forgot about Quirk and ran to the spot of the voice. At that moment the halfling popped his head out and breathed free air. Hardly believing his luck, the giant snatched the head of the halfling, pulling the body up into the air, and gobbled him up. Being full after his snack, he returned to the fort, completely forgetting about the arrows in his rump.
Quirk smiled. The half elf ranger was pleased to see, not only one less halfling in the world, but that the hole left by the druid’s body had taken care of the need to dig the bard out. Bending over and reaching in, the half elf pulled the still limp Dirg from his hole and flung him over a shoulder.
As the odd pair entered the tunnels a horrible roar was heard from the direction of the Giant Fort. Quirk realized the giant must have just sat down and smirked.
“Wake up human!” a slap across Dirg’s face brought him back from his dream of large Ogre women.
“What the…Where am I?” asked the disarmed bard.
“I will ask the questions mortal!” spoke the booming voice of King Tranix.
“Are you not the bard of Tunare?” asked the King.
“Tunare? What about her?” Dirg was plainly confused still, but his eyes searched the room for answers. Behind him stood a ranger with his bow in hand, on a table nearby was all his weapons and armor. His singing short sword was near! In front of him, heat radiated from a gigantic body known as King Tranix.
“If you do not cooperate bard, I’ll eat your liver!” shouted the king.
“Your majesty, if I might take a moment with the fool.” The ranger quietly invoked.
“Very well… perhaps some time with you will soften his tongue.” Came the king.
The ranger whispered into Dirg’s ear a story of unbelievable hilarity.
“Listen up Bard or we both die. Some time ago, I was down in Solusek B doing some research for my trade skill of tailoring. I was gathering silks and the like when some fire giants seize me. I wondered why on earth they hadn’t killed me yet, dangling as I was from a meat hook in a supply closet, completely battered. Apparently the King was teaching his nephew how to properly skin an elf, and I was the next guinea pig! The nephew kept coming into the closet and saying things like “My uncle Tranix is gonna let me cut your jibblies off!” that little snot nosed giant! Why if he weren’t twice my size I’d think he were but nine years old! In one of the spoutings, the little child let it slip that his uncle the king, was sad about how the world outside of Sol B saw him. I later used that to my advantage. In a moment of weakness, before my death, I told the King that I personally knew the bard of Tunare. How she was but a lady of meager accomplishments until a bard sang her tales and made her popular. It was this bard’s work that helped her rise to stardom and eventually become one of the most loved gods of all time! I told him that goodness and popularity were just marketing ploys and the best marketers, were bards. Of course he instantly employed me to seek out my friend the bard, and have him come sing tales of king Tranix to the world. Apparently the King has been locked up underground for a bit too long. He’s lost his hold on reality. He really is quite insane.”
“But why choose me? Choose? I mean why kidnap me!” asked Dirg.
“Do you know any real bard who made Tunare popular? It was a lie, I made it up. And as such I knew that any bard I chose would surely die. So I couldn’t choose a friend. I chose the first bard that I tracked, and that, my lucky friend… was you.”
“You imbecile! You coward! How could you do this to me?”
“Listen up, if you play your cards right, we can both walk out of here rich and alive!” spoke the ranger.. and began to whisper more into the bard’s ear.
Had his hands not been tied, Dirg considered strangling Quirk.
“Enough talk! Will the bard compose or die?” demanded Tranix.
“Oh your royalness, I shall compose for you the most exquisite song of all time! Your name shall be praised from every village! Your accomplishments from every rooftop! The name of Tranix will be a household name within the year or my name isn’t Dumbledop the Bard!”
The king smiled at this, as he was greatly pleased. The temperature of the room lowered a tad.
“You speak eloquently Dumbledop. I shall like to hear the song by the end of the week!”
“Oh but your highness, it is only at the top of the Stonebrunt mountains that I can get my best inspirations! I am but a lowly human, and require fresh air, and high hilltops. I know this sounds despicable to you, but it is how I did it with Tunare.” Dirg chided the giant, daringly.
“Tunare eh? Hmmn, very well, I will release you to go to the top of the mountains. But if you do not return with a song I will send my minions out after you and have them beat you to death!” replied the king.
“Thank you sir, it does however, take money to make a journey as far as the Stonebrunt, and to eat and drink while composing. I am but a poor bard and could use some financial encouragement.”
“Money is no problem to me. Would a wagon load of gems do? Two? Three? I shall have them readied for you.”
“Oh your generosity is dually noted, I can think of a verse right now describing your many talents oh king! But there is one more thing I desire.” Asked Dirg.
“What is it, name it.. anything”
“I require a rare drum for the composure, as my last drum was lost in the snow.”
“Oh very well, bard. The dragon here, Nagafen, is my servant, he keeps them stored, something call, Drums of the March. I will have him deliver it to you personally.”
“Oh thank you your highness.”
The bard drove his wagon of gems up to the ranger who was leading his own wagon. Dirg held a shiny new drum under his arm as well as the rest of his weapons, and smiled at the ranger.
“Friend, I ought to kill you for what you did to me, but it is ironic that today I am a rich man!”
“Ah but within a month the king will grow suspicious and come after you!”
“He will come after Dumbledop the bard my ranger friend. Pray tell, what name does he call you by?”
“He calls my name as it is, Quirk. He will come after me when he finds no Dumbledop, and I will have to help him find you to keep myself alive!”
“And how would you help him find me ranger? You are a tracker yes, but by what description would you find me?”
“That is easy, I would tell him you were a short human, with long white hair, who carried a drum of the march.”
“Then we shall hope he never find either of us… good day ranger.” Spoke Dirg as he scuttled the horses forward.
A few miles out of sight, Dirg grinned to himself, and slowly transformed into an Erudite. “Let him look for his human Dumbledop!” and he laughed for miles.
Or
“Why I Can’t Return to Sol B”
I was levitating while running through the snowy hills of the Dreadlands when I felt something sting my neck. I stopped and put my hand to a bloody spot.
“That’s odd.” I thought. But before I could finish the thought I passed out.
From a distance the well trained ranger took aim, waited, judged the air speed, and loosed his arrow. The speeding bard ran over his head by one hundred feet, caught up to the arrow, and passed it just as the ranger had planned. Shooting bards was a tough business, and only the best made a profit at it. The poisoned arrow made contact with the shiny green blur and soon the bard stopped. The ranger was well pleased with himself before he realized that his knock-out potion was working too fast. His captor fell asleep at a hundred feet in the air! The body plummeted to the ground several hundred yards in front of him, hit the hill, and began to flop down the hill side. Quirk the ranger was already seeing pictures of delivering a broken limbed bard and grimaced. Quickly he stood up and began running towards the site.
A halfling druid was shouting with every step “Porting for Donations!” as he neared the Dreadlands tunnel. He heard faintly from above him, “That’s odd!” and was suddenly struck by a body. The two bodies twisted and turned rolling downhill through snow until they were covered in it. After what seemed an eternity, the bodies quit moving, and they were surrounded by white snow. The halfling, Jeohn as known to his friends, could not tell which way was up, and he began to panic.
“HELP! HELP! There’s a dead human on me!! HELP! HELP!” he screamed
A nearby giant heard the screams and interpreted them as lunch. Running towards the sight he saw a ranger dart between his legs.
“I’d be quiet if I were you, there’s a hungry giant looking for you!” shouted Quirk as he began to dig. The giant was catching up rather quickly.
“I’ll be right back!”
Quirk began to distract the giant while the halfling began to dig in the direction he heard the voice from. Inside he was completely horrified and his digging and breathing proved he was panicking.
“GET ME AWAY FROM THIS CORPSE!” he screamed. Nearby the ranger had successfully distracted the giant with some arrows, when he began to wonder to himself, “okay, now I have this giant after me, how am I going to get that bard out of the snow? I guess I have to kill this giant first, then go after him.” He proceeded to begin the long task of killing the giant.
As soon as the giant heard the halflings cries again, he forgot about Quirk and ran to the spot of the voice. At that moment the halfling popped his head out and breathed free air. Hardly believing his luck, the giant snatched the head of the halfling, pulling the body up into the air, and gobbled him up. Being full after his snack, he returned to the fort, completely forgetting about the arrows in his rump.
Quirk smiled. The half elf ranger was pleased to see, not only one less halfling in the world, but that the hole left by the druid’s body had taken care of the need to dig the bard out. Bending over and reaching in, the half elf pulled the still limp Dirg from his hole and flung him over a shoulder.
As the odd pair entered the tunnels a horrible roar was heard from the direction of the Giant Fort. Quirk realized the giant must have just sat down and smirked.
“Wake up human!” a slap across Dirg’s face brought him back from his dream of large Ogre women.
“What the…Where am I?” asked the disarmed bard.
“I will ask the questions mortal!” spoke the booming voice of King Tranix.
“Are you not the bard of Tunare?” asked the King.
“Tunare? What about her?” Dirg was plainly confused still, but his eyes searched the room for answers. Behind him stood a ranger with his bow in hand, on a table nearby was all his weapons and armor. His singing short sword was near! In front of him, heat radiated from a gigantic body known as King Tranix.
“If you do not cooperate bard, I’ll eat your liver!” shouted the king.
“Your majesty, if I might take a moment with the fool.” The ranger quietly invoked.
“Very well… perhaps some time with you will soften his tongue.” Came the king.
The ranger whispered into Dirg’s ear a story of unbelievable hilarity.
“Listen up Bard or we both die. Some time ago, I was down in Solusek B doing some research for my trade skill of tailoring. I was gathering silks and the like when some fire giants seize me. I wondered why on earth they hadn’t killed me yet, dangling as I was from a meat hook in a supply closet, completely battered. Apparently the King was teaching his nephew how to properly skin an elf, and I was the next guinea pig! The nephew kept coming into the closet and saying things like “My uncle Tranix is gonna let me cut your jibblies off!” that little snot nosed giant! Why if he weren’t twice my size I’d think he were but nine years old! In one of the spoutings, the little child let it slip that his uncle the king, was sad about how the world outside of Sol B saw him. I later used that to my advantage. In a moment of weakness, before my death, I told the King that I personally knew the bard of Tunare. How she was but a lady of meager accomplishments until a bard sang her tales and made her popular. It was this bard’s work that helped her rise to stardom and eventually become one of the most loved gods of all time! I told him that goodness and popularity were just marketing ploys and the best marketers, were bards. Of course he instantly employed me to seek out my friend the bard, and have him come sing tales of king Tranix to the world. Apparently the King has been locked up underground for a bit too long. He’s lost his hold on reality. He really is quite insane.”
“But why choose me? Choose? I mean why kidnap me!” asked Dirg.
“Do you know any real bard who made Tunare popular? It was a lie, I made it up. And as such I knew that any bard I chose would surely die. So I couldn’t choose a friend. I chose the first bard that I tracked, and that, my lucky friend… was you.”
“You imbecile! You coward! How could you do this to me?”
“Listen up, if you play your cards right, we can both walk out of here rich and alive!” spoke the ranger.. and began to whisper more into the bard’s ear.
Had his hands not been tied, Dirg considered strangling Quirk.
“Enough talk! Will the bard compose or die?” demanded Tranix.
“Oh your royalness, I shall compose for you the most exquisite song of all time! Your name shall be praised from every village! Your accomplishments from every rooftop! The name of Tranix will be a household name within the year or my name isn’t Dumbledop the Bard!”
The king smiled at this, as he was greatly pleased. The temperature of the room lowered a tad.
“You speak eloquently Dumbledop. I shall like to hear the song by the end of the week!”
“Oh but your highness, it is only at the top of the Stonebrunt mountains that I can get my best inspirations! I am but a lowly human, and require fresh air, and high hilltops. I know this sounds despicable to you, but it is how I did it with Tunare.” Dirg chided the giant, daringly.
“Tunare eh? Hmmn, very well, I will release you to go to the top of the mountains. But if you do not return with a song I will send my minions out after you and have them beat you to death!” replied the king.
“Thank you sir, it does however, take money to make a journey as far as the Stonebrunt, and to eat and drink while composing. I am but a poor bard and could use some financial encouragement.”
“Money is no problem to me. Would a wagon load of gems do? Two? Three? I shall have them readied for you.”
“Oh your generosity is dually noted, I can think of a verse right now describing your many talents oh king! But there is one more thing I desire.” Asked Dirg.
“What is it, name it.. anything”
“I require a rare drum for the composure, as my last drum was lost in the snow.”
“Oh very well, bard. The dragon here, Nagafen, is my servant, he keeps them stored, something call, Drums of the March. I will have him deliver it to you personally.”
“Oh thank you your highness.”
The bard drove his wagon of gems up to the ranger who was leading his own wagon. Dirg held a shiny new drum under his arm as well as the rest of his weapons, and smiled at the ranger.
“Friend, I ought to kill you for what you did to me, but it is ironic that today I am a rich man!”
“Ah but within a month the king will grow suspicious and come after you!”
“He will come after Dumbledop the bard my ranger friend. Pray tell, what name does he call you by?”
“He calls my name as it is, Quirk. He will come after me when he finds no Dumbledop, and I will have to help him find you to keep myself alive!”
“And how would you help him find me ranger? You are a tracker yes, but by what description would you find me?”
“That is easy, I would tell him you were a short human, with long white hair, who carried a drum of the march.”
“Then we shall hope he never find either of us… good day ranger.” Spoke Dirg as he scuttled the horses forward.
A few miles out of sight, Dirg grinned to himself, and slowly transformed into an Erudite. “Let him look for his human Dumbledop!” and he laughed for miles.