Duncan and the Cave-men, Part 2
The Black Void - Episode 175
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Having made up his mind, Duncan tries to reason with the
savages. “Look,” he says. “Let’s start over, my good hairy friends. My
name is Duncan, and right now I’m just as confused as you are. I don’t
suppose you’ve developed some kind of calender, have you?” More dissatisfied grunts and futiely thrown projectiles are their only answer. “I’ll take that as a ‘no,” the young necromancer surmises. “How about fire? No? The wheel? No? Have you seven mastered the art of speaking? Hmmmm, I’d say that’s another ‘no’. I guess that rules out beer and sliced bread too. It’s a joke....ah, forget it.”Suddenly the cave-people relent their impotent onslaught and cease their horrible grunting. Right on cue, from out of the cave a true behemoth of a man emerges. Or at least Duncan assumes he’s a man, it really is hard to differentiate male and female with these folks. He’s dressed in fine white furs, and strung about his waist is a belt of scalps - trophies of battles fought and won. “Aha! You must be the leader of this motley throng of brutes,” Duncan rejoices. “Perhaps you’ll be a more reasonable fellow.”If by ‘reasonable’ Duncan meant violent and stupid, then yes, this cave-dweller is reasonable. Very reasonable. And as he pounds away at Duncan’s invisible force field the necromancer can’t help but pity the poor, miserable wretch. He may be a specialist in the arcane arts of death-magic, but he isn’t without a heart. He decides to just wait out the attack until they either tire out or come to their senses and realize that their attacks will bear no fruit. Speaking of bears...Duncan is slightly perplexed when every last one of the cave- dwellers abruptly turn tail and flee back into the filthy little hole they call ‘home’. He takes a quick sniff of his armpits. “Am I that revolting?” he wonders aloud. “I know I tend to ramble on a bit sometimes, but...” GRRrrrrSlowly, Duncan turns around and beholds the largest bear he’s ever seen in his life towering over him. Propped up on it’s hind legs like it is, the thing must be at least twenty feet tall. And it isn’t happy to see him. It’s starting to seem like most anything he encounters here won’t be. Oh well, no different than attending one of those wizard conventions and informal ‘get togethers’ with his peers back home. I'm so misunderstood, he muses dispassionately. Duncan mulls over his options...
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Lost Soldier
11/28/2004 11:18:53 AM
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