The Revenge of the Entish Bow - RPG

[Rimbaud]

In the small room near the top of Gol Dulldor, Sundry was pressing his spectacularly ugly features against the aquiline poetry of Halfullion’s own visage. He was shouting, cajoling, threatening, demanding to know of their Quest, the whereabouts of his Companions, and now, for knowledge of the great sword L’Envey Piennhas, which lay on a chair across the room. Halfullion was still securely tied to the bed.

It was early morning, and a pale grey light filtered in through the window. It was bitterly cold.

Sundry sneered at his continued resistance. Even Halfullion had been surprised at how stupid the questioning must have been to avoid him giving anything away. “I'm looking forward to completing your ‘training’,” leered the foul Guard. “In time you will call me Master.”

”You're gravely mistaken. You won't kill me as easily as I tend to surrender,” replied Halfullion, honestly.

Sundry pressed very close to Halfullion. The Orcish Captain looked into his eyes and, for the far-from-the-first time, Halfullion perceived the evil madness lurking within the maniacal eyes.

”Oh, no, my great Hero. You will find that it is you who are mistaken...about a great many things.”

Water, who was standing by the door, looking thoroughly disheartened by having not chopped anybody’s head off for a while, motioned at the blade on the chair. “His bright-sword.”

Sundry rose and took hold of the fabulous weapon. ”Ah, yes, a Hero's weapon. Much like your friend's. By now you must know your friends can never be rescued from the dark side, of Gravlox’s wrath. So will it be with you.”

”You're wrong. Soon I'll be dead...and you with me.”

The Captain laughed. “Perhaps you refer to the imminent attack of your Heroic Itship.”

Halfullion squinted foolishly at him.

Sundry sneered. “Yes...I assure you we are quite safe from your friends here.”

”Your overconfidence is your weakness,” ventured Halfullion, calmly.

”Your faith in your friends is yours,” snarled Sundry.

Water shifted. “It is pointless to resist, Gormlessar.”

Sundry turned to face Halfullion again. He was wrathful. “Everything that has transpired has done so according to our design.” He motioned outside, through the window. “Your friends out there in the Forest of Workmud...”

Halfullion reacted. The evil Captain noted it.

”...are walking into a trap. As are all of your foolish friends! It was we who allowed the Itship to approach so close. We are quite safe from your pitiful little band. An entire legion of our best troops awaits them.”

Halfullion's look darted from the Captain to Water and, finally, to the sword in Sundry’s hand.

Sundry laughed, madly. “Oh...I'm afraid the ramparts and battlements will be quite operational when your friends arrive.

”Come, boy. See for yourself.” He shifted the bed nearer to the window. Halfullion felt the cold wind on his face.

Sundry stood by the window, with Water standing at his side. Halfullion strained to look through a small section of the window.

Sundry looked at him, sharply. “From here you will witness the final destruction of the Itship, and the end of your insignificant Quest.”

Halfullion was in torment. He glanced at his sword sitting on the
armrest of the chair. The Orcish Captain watched him and smiled, touching the scabbard.

”You want this, don't you? The hate is swelling in you now. Take your Hero weapon. Use it. I am unarmed. Strike me down with it. Give in to your anger. With each passing moment, you make yourself more my servant.”

Water watched Halfullion in his agony.

”No!” Halfullion felt despair cascading around him like a latrine bucket emptied upon his head.

”It is unavoidable. It is your destiny. You, like your sword, are now mine!” Sundry was exultant, Halfullion seemed broken.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Some time later, in the late morning, with sun streaming into the room and playing on the coverlet atop the bound form of the Hero, Sundry announced that he had a visitor. From his restricted position in the bed, his vision hampered by the door post and Sundry’s ample orcish bulk, Halfullion could only make out a slim figure with truly stunning blonde hair.

“But, soft! what light through yonder doorway breaks? It is the east, and that sweet figure is the sun,” murmured Halfullion. Time appeared to have slowed. “See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!”

“Her? She?” said Sundry brutally, shattering the moment. “This is the fearsome…” and he failed to disguise a smirk “…Gravy, son of the Captain Gravlox, who is busy destroying your pathetic friends.”

“You will find me more difficult to destroy,” said Halfullion, confused, but with unexpected backbone. The Orcish Captain started in fear, and checked the bonds again.

The slim blonde figure entered. When it flicked its hair back, the face was revealed and the image of feminine beauty lost. Gravy’s face was a general plague area. Acne fought with pimple colonies, who themselves were besieged by eczema. Combined with green skin and shyness, Gravy was certainly not a great catch. Halfullion felt his stomach turn. He wondered idly if stomach’s really had space to do all this turning that so many people talk about. Cartwheels, and butterflies too, stomachs were marvelous things.

“Hello, thtrange Hero,” lisped Gravy, in a weak, fluctuating voice. “I have jutht returned from a trip on the river, looking for wigth.”

“Wigth?” asked Halfullion, thoroughly bemused.

“Wigth,” nodded Gravy.

Halfullion was lost. “You enjoy boating, …Gravy?”

“Ah yes he does!” interjected Sundry. “You can hardly keep Gravy away from boats.”

Gravy smiled shyly and ducked his head, murmuring something about liking to be out in the rain. He would have said nothing more, but the fabulously annoying Sundry heard his low emanations and exclaimed, “Indeed! Gravy especially likes to be in a boat when it’s pouring.”

[ February 21, 2003: Message edited by: Rimbaud ]