We continue our tale at the point we left off yesterday. That’s sorta the way these things work out. I hope you’re enjoying it.
About this time, an Orc walked in. He was not expecting to find someone
with the Oracle, much less to find the two standing in awkward silence. I
decided to break the silence.
“What do you want?”
The Orc took a step back, terror written on his face, half because I had
said something and half because he’d finally noticed me hanging from the
Oracle’s hands. He looked like he was about to bolt.
The Oracle spoke, “No need. The stinky herbs told me all I needed to know.
Your people are also tormented by the Lupine. In fact, it affects your
people more frequently than it does the people of the pale-skinned
barbarian. You are to work together on this quest. This quest demands your
best efforts, and if one of you fails, the entire quest will fail. ”
“What neither of you know is that it is not just your villages at stake.
The fortune of the entire world hangs in the balance. You must succeed or
other worlds will suffer the same fate as Alderaan…”
Both the Orc and the barbarian looked confused. “Alderaan?” asked the
barbarian. “What’s Alderaan?”
The Oracle just laughed.
“Ahem. Yes. Well. The sweater is meant for you, barbarian. For you, Master
Orc, I have this Mighty Axe of Smiting.”
“What does it do?” the Orc asked eagerly.
“It cuts things. It’s an axe. I got it on sale.”
I had to laugh at this point, because the Orc looked like he’d just won
second prize in a cootie-catching contest, and had nothing to show for it
except a basket of wilting cooties and a pitcher of sweat.
The Orc glared at me. I laughed some more.
At this point, I should mention that Orcs and humans don’t really get
along. They fight over territory, religion and all the usual inter-species
bug-a-boos. Suffice it to say, neither was feeling excited about the
The Oracle got tired of them standing awkwardly in her cave, and held out
her hand for the expected gratuity.
Uncertain of oracle tipping etiquette, the Orc looked expectantly at the
barbarian, who took out a card, grumbled at the added value of the advice
and weapon given the mooching Orc, and handed the Oracle a handful of
gold. With any luck, the offering was enough to avoid any imprecation on them or their quest from the Oracle.
“Thank you, come again!” said the Oracle, shooing them out of her home.
See? Here we are at the half-way point, and things are going nicely, aren’t they? Tune in tomorrow, and we’ll have our heroes on the road.
imprecation / IM – pre – cay – shun / the act of cursing, to invoke evil upon.