The exercise:
Write about: a wish.
If I'd thought to make myself a wish for a happy birthday today then I could say that it came true. But I did not, so I will just say that it was a pretty danged good day, especially considering it fell on a Wednesday this year.
It was my first birthday working at the RDOS and folks were extremely kind and made me feel very special.
3 comments:
Happy birthday! And you're not going to tell us what they did to make feel special? I have to guess... hmm, they covered your chair in gold foil, called it a throne and let you be King of the Office for a day? Or did they all try and guess your age and none of them guessed over 38? :)
A wish
"You killed the Giant of Steephill?" The Chancellor of Bluestone keep frowned as he surveyed the ragtag group in front of him. "You?"
They were a sorry-looking bunch: at the front looking bedraggled and pathetic, dripping something -- probably water -- onto the floor was a lank-haired elf with a fresh cut across one cheek, a torn green-and-brown tunic that proclaimed him as part of the Lac Woods clan and a broken shortsword sticking out of a sheathe that appeared to have been largely eaten. Behind him was a dwarf whose hair and beard was matted and filthy. Neither of his eyes appeared to be open and he was visibly swaying on his feet. There was a disturbing smell like rotting vegetables with something metallic underneath it and it seemed to be coming from a rent in his breastplate. And next to the dwarf was a young man who was an odd blue colour from his forehead to his ankles and appeared to be both shivering and sweating at the same time. His clothes were barely hanging onto his skinny frame and were certainly not enough for modesty. The Chancellor tried to avoid looking at him, more out a sense of dread than propriety.
"Yes, that was your wish, right?" said the elf, coughing with the effort. "It was an epic battle--" the dwarf fell over with a clang and sprawled on the floor. The Chancellor noticed for the first time that the dwarf was missing an arm; or rather, one of his arms was now detached and sticking out of the sodden leather backpack he was wearing.
"-- it took pretty much everything we had. But we got him up to the edge of the cliff at Steephill and knocked him off. He was already injured and the fall finished him. I've got his eyes in here somewhere--" he started to shrug his own backpack off to look for them.
"It's fine," said the Chancellor holding up a hand to forestall more anatomy from being spilled. "I have a report already of the Giant's body being found on the beach beneath Steephill; you can turn the eyes into the Keeper of Monstrosities before you leave. Is your... companion? feeling alright?"
The elf looked at the dwarf. "Yeah, Rustduck's ok," he said. "Blood loss, that's all."
"Shouldn't you heal him?" The Chancellor went to the priests twice a month for a health check-up and considered them to be part of everyday life.
"Expensive," said the elf. He shrugged. "To be honest, given what they're likely to charge for putting his arm back and unblinding him, and then just generally getting him fighting fit again... it'll be cheaper to wait for him to die and then have him resurrected. You get a fresh body back and there's just a little bit of soul-shock, that goes away in a couple of days. Just makes sense really. The only thing that's better is a wish to be returned to full health, and they cost more than even you can afford."
The Chancellor took a step back, looking as though he'd smelled something worse than what was already in the room. "My," he said, sounding faint. "You'd let him suffer just to save money?"
The elf looked around and stepped closer to the Chancellor, who stepped back again. The elf closed the distance once more and took the Chancellor's shoulder to hold him still.
"No," said the elf quietly so that only the two of them could hear. "We'll actually go to the pub downstairs and give Rustduck an ale and then slip a dagger between his shoulders when he relaxes. Eight times out of the the pub-owner has insurance and we can get the resurrection done for free on that. The other times we normally get a contribution from the owner anyway as murder in your pub in bad for business unless you can turn it into PR."
"Oh my god," said the Chancellor, sagging at the knees. Behind them both the young man who'd turned blue moaned softly and exploded wetly.
Greg - they surprised me with a birthday cake (while I was in my online class, but thankfully I had the video off) and there were treats on my desk when I arrived (coffee for me and doughnuts to share with everyone). As well as a happy birthday banner put up on my wall.
And I believe most people pegged me at mid-thirties, except for one co-worker who knew better because we're basically the same age and have been getting each other's cultural references ever since I started working there :)
Holy... why do I love this so much? And want to hear of more of their adventures? Maybe it's the ruthless practicality of it all. But my goodness, what an intriguing setting to play and telling stories in!
Post a Comment