Endings are usually not foreseen. And this one was no exception. I suppose there was an inkling. If I had paid the appropriate attention the signs were all there. I had seen Jaden I had not seen Daenyra. Daenyra’s house behind my house was now owned by Deammona a gargoyle.
I was drinking something called HOT Chocolate. It was delicious. I was sitting across from Pie who as always looked more dead than alive. Herald stood in the window looking out back.
“There is a crowd standing around your guild mistress’s house”
I rose and went over to the window.
I could see the crowd looking patiently at the house. No one was talking. Several had pack animals. What in Britannia was going on I wondered?
Just then the house imploded. Like the fall of the house of Usher from that story from Edgar Allen Poe. I dropped my cup of HOT Chocolate, shattering it on the floor.
The crowd rushed in sorting through items from the house. Grabbing quickly all that was there. Scuffling and tugging over brocades, and bedsheets. Within minutes everything was gone. Picked cleaner than a monkey that’s fallen into a school of hungry piranha.
I should not have been surprised. I had seen enough empires fall. Enough villages come to a horrible end. And more than enough dreams end. Still…
I sat back down and Pie slid another cup of that wonderful stuff called HOT Chocolate over to me. People grow near and people grow apart. Things change. Peoples focus change. Perhaps, the reason I spend my days killing demons is they don’t change and to an extent neither do I.
I eventually got on my high horse and wandered off to Britain. Undead covered the graveyards. The RGB was looking for help in sleuthing some mystery. Some new dread dungeon had opened up in the underworld not terribly far from Papua and Delucia. More changes unlooked for and unanticipated.
I trotted south out of town. Through woods well known. And wandered west through spirit wood. I encountered Okami at his house. I knew he had been forming rangers within his guild. But lo and behold. He and the other rangers all had new guild patches. They had split into their own separate guild. Again changes, not looked for, not foreseen. Things change.
I wandered through woods and vales and came to the keep of the holy fist. It was gone. I looked around except for some rubble there wasn’t a trace. What the hell was going on? I picked up speed and rode into Trinsic to the pub. An empty pub.
I asked the bar keep who looked rather angry and petty and not the least bit sad. Where is everyone?
He spat on the floor. “Gone”. “
Gone where publican, it’s obvious they are gone?” I asked
“Tha thar Shanty Kler got himself banished”
“Yes, but where is everyone”
He spat on the floor “Gone”
By this time I was wondering if I should not be using more pressing forms of communication like my dagger in this idiots ribs. Very slowly, very deliberately, and very loudly I asked “To Where?”
“Britn, tha Salt Dog”
At last… wait Britain, I was just there. Grumbling I wasted no time I grabbed my mount and at a dead gallop headed to the Moon Gate and back to Britain.
Change! Change to the left of me, change to the right, back and forth everywhere things were changing. That is the thing, everything keeps changing. Why I had spent so many years out in the wilderness maybe. Nothing changes out there. But you drag your sorry ass back to town, make friends, get comfortable, and everything starts to change again. I rode into Britain across the western bridge in a mood fouler than the central Sewer of Britain. It started to rain. Wonderful. I crossed to east Britain, got a little lost and finally found the Salty Dog. No one was there except the annoying staff and Jacob.
“Jacob where is everyone?”
“What do you mean we’re all here?” he said pointing to his horse.
“No I mean the holy fist and the crowd that used to hang out at the Trinsic Pub”
“What do you mean we’re all here?” he said pointing to his horse.
I began thinking about my dagger again… but chose a different tact.
“Where is Chanticleer?”
“He might be at the fist”
“The holy fist in Trinsic is no more Jacob” I was thinking at this point no… not a dagger to the ribs my Kryss in his eye socket yes….
“Uhm…” he used the length of his arm to sweep all the glasses off a table. “Let me feed you something” he ran down cellar. I heard him calling to a rat and some pot banging noises. I was sure whatever was to eat I did not want it.
I left the salty dog as quickly and quietly as I could and started down the north road that angles off to the north east out of Britain. I had not gone very far when I saw a new structure just north of the road where it made a wide southern loop. I stopped to look. A sign post said “The Emerald Fist” and another sign that said “Welcome to Emerald City”
No one was about.
Emerald City?
Emerald Fist?
I had had enough. I popped back to home and walked in.
“Dagda is loo-“ started Pie
“Don’t Care” I yelled shutting him off
“But-“
“Really Don’t Care!” I ran up to quarters.
I grabbed my demon slayer kryss off the wall. Touched the portal, said the words. And found myself in familiar territory.
A red cloven hooved winged demon stood there smiling as if he were awaiting me.
“Ah! Roberto, you fat stupid *******, do you like the changes –“
I have no idea what he was going to say my kryss slid into his throat upwards stopping his vocal chords and whatever was inside his brainpan from functioning. It took several more hacks to finish it off and was very satisfying and yet unfulfilling.
I didn’t even loot the damned thing just rode down the valley and saw another.
“Ah! Roberto, you fat stupid *******, do you like the changes going on around you?”
That was all that particular mouth piece of hell got out before I had given it a similar send off as its first cousin.
Another one appeared almost on top of me “Poor Roberto”
I slew that one too.
They kept coming and with each their epitaphs. “Poor Roberto” “Stupid Roberto” “Changes Roberto”
I killed and killed for an hour. No I don’t like change, No I have no idea why, No I am not pleased, No No No No No! No.
I had worn myself down. The latest demon breathing its last with my kryss stuck in its breastbone. “Stupid, fat, dim Roberto, it never was about you” I pulled my kryss out and stabbed it a half dozen more times out of pique.
I went home.
“Dagda is looking for you Roberto” said Pie
“yeah? Where is she?”
“The Salted Dog?” said pie
“Salty Dog?”
“yeah that’s it”
I changed my gore soaked clothes and put away my armor. Went down stairs grabbed my mount and touched the portal and popped over to the Salty Dog.
Dagda was there with a brand new rangers guild patch on. My mood was at best cloudy at that moment.
Okami was there arguing with Ezekial.
John with his brand new Emerald Fist guild patch was talking to someone running down a mystery.
Erollisi, Jolica, Celeste, Doc, and Tinman too…
I sat down
Dagda sat down and handed me a bottle or red wine and gave me a smile.
Everything was different… and yet as I looked around...
Someone started a round of “Yo Ho Ho” and I even joined in.
I do not remember much after that I may have had a bottle or three too many.
I woke up in bed. Which meant that Dagda or someone had put me on my horse and dropped me off at home. My head hammered. The pain was all to familiar. But a quote from Rousseau popped into my head between throbs.
‘The more things change, the more they stay the same’
I was drinking something called HOT Chocolate. It was delicious. I was sitting across from Pie who as always looked more dead than alive. Herald stood in the window looking out back.
“There is a crowd standing around your guild mistress’s house”
I rose and went over to the window.
I could see the crowd looking patiently at the house. No one was talking. Several had pack animals. What in Britannia was going on I wondered?
Just then the house imploded. Like the fall of the house of Usher from that story from Edgar Allen Poe. I dropped my cup of HOT Chocolate, shattering it on the floor.
The crowd rushed in sorting through items from the house. Grabbing quickly all that was there. Scuffling and tugging over brocades, and bedsheets. Within minutes everything was gone. Picked cleaner than a monkey that’s fallen into a school of hungry piranha.
I should not have been surprised. I had seen enough empires fall. Enough villages come to a horrible end. And more than enough dreams end. Still…
I sat back down and Pie slid another cup of that wonderful stuff called HOT Chocolate over to me. People grow near and people grow apart. Things change. Peoples focus change. Perhaps, the reason I spend my days killing demons is they don’t change and to an extent neither do I.
I eventually got on my high horse and wandered off to Britain. Undead covered the graveyards. The RGB was looking for help in sleuthing some mystery. Some new dread dungeon had opened up in the underworld not terribly far from Papua and Delucia. More changes unlooked for and unanticipated.
I trotted south out of town. Through woods well known. And wandered west through spirit wood. I encountered Okami at his house. I knew he had been forming rangers within his guild. But lo and behold. He and the other rangers all had new guild patches. They had split into their own separate guild. Again changes, not looked for, not foreseen. Things change.
I wandered through woods and vales and came to the keep of the holy fist. It was gone. I looked around except for some rubble there wasn’t a trace. What the hell was going on? I picked up speed and rode into Trinsic to the pub. An empty pub.
I asked the bar keep who looked rather angry and petty and not the least bit sad. Where is everyone?
He spat on the floor. “Gone”. “
Gone where publican, it’s obvious they are gone?” I asked
“Tha thar Shanty Kler got himself banished”
“Yes, but where is everyone”
He spat on the floor “Gone”
By this time I was wondering if I should not be using more pressing forms of communication like my dagger in this idiots ribs. Very slowly, very deliberately, and very loudly I asked “To Where?”
“Britn, tha Salt Dog”
At last… wait Britain, I was just there. Grumbling I wasted no time I grabbed my mount and at a dead gallop headed to the Moon Gate and back to Britain.
Change! Change to the left of me, change to the right, back and forth everywhere things were changing. That is the thing, everything keeps changing. Why I had spent so many years out in the wilderness maybe. Nothing changes out there. But you drag your sorry ass back to town, make friends, get comfortable, and everything starts to change again. I rode into Britain across the western bridge in a mood fouler than the central Sewer of Britain. It started to rain. Wonderful. I crossed to east Britain, got a little lost and finally found the Salty Dog. No one was there except the annoying staff and Jacob.
“Jacob where is everyone?”
“What do you mean we’re all here?” he said pointing to his horse.
“No I mean the holy fist and the crowd that used to hang out at the Trinsic Pub”
“What do you mean we’re all here?” he said pointing to his horse.
I began thinking about my dagger again… but chose a different tact.
“Where is Chanticleer?”
“He might be at the fist”
“The holy fist in Trinsic is no more Jacob” I was thinking at this point no… not a dagger to the ribs my Kryss in his eye socket yes….
“Uhm…” he used the length of his arm to sweep all the glasses off a table. “Let me feed you something” he ran down cellar. I heard him calling to a rat and some pot banging noises. I was sure whatever was to eat I did not want it.
I left the salty dog as quickly and quietly as I could and started down the north road that angles off to the north east out of Britain. I had not gone very far when I saw a new structure just north of the road where it made a wide southern loop. I stopped to look. A sign post said “The Emerald Fist” and another sign that said “Welcome to Emerald City”
No one was about.
Emerald City?
Emerald Fist?
I had had enough. I popped back to home and walked in.
“Dagda is loo-“ started Pie
“Don’t Care” I yelled shutting him off
“But-“
“Really Don’t Care!” I ran up to quarters.
I grabbed my demon slayer kryss off the wall. Touched the portal, said the words. And found myself in familiar territory.
A red cloven hooved winged demon stood there smiling as if he were awaiting me.
“Ah! Roberto, you fat stupid *******, do you like the changes –“
I have no idea what he was going to say my kryss slid into his throat upwards stopping his vocal chords and whatever was inside his brainpan from functioning. It took several more hacks to finish it off and was very satisfying and yet unfulfilling.
I didn’t even loot the damned thing just rode down the valley and saw another.
“Ah! Roberto, you fat stupid *******, do you like the changes going on around you?”
That was all that particular mouth piece of hell got out before I had given it a similar send off as its first cousin.
Another one appeared almost on top of me “Poor Roberto”
I slew that one too.
They kept coming and with each their epitaphs. “Poor Roberto” “Stupid Roberto” “Changes Roberto”
I killed and killed for an hour. No I don’t like change, No I have no idea why, No I am not pleased, No No No No No! No.
I had worn myself down. The latest demon breathing its last with my kryss stuck in its breastbone. “Stupid, fat, dim Roberto, it never was about you” I pulled my kryss out and stabbed it a half dozen more times out of pique.
I went home.
“Dagda is looking for you Roberto” said Pie
“yeah? Where is she?”
“The Salted Dog?” said pie
“Salty Dog?”
“yeah that’s it”
I changed my gore soaked clothes and put away my armor. Went down stairs grabbed my mount and touched the portal and popped over to the Salty Dog.
Dagda was there with a brand new rangers guild patch on. My mood was at best cloudy at that moment.
Okami was there arguing with Ezekial.
John with his brand new Emerald Fist guild patch was talking to someone running down a mystery.
Erollisi, Jolica, Celeste, Doc, and Tinman too…
I sat down
Dagda sat down and handed me a bottle or red wine and gave me a smile.
Everything was different… and yet as I looked around...
Someone started a round of “Yo Ho Ho” and I even joined in.
I do not remember much after that I may have had a bottle or three too many.
I woke up in bed. Which meant that Dagda or someone had put me on my horse and dropped me off at home. My head hammered. The pain was all to familiar. But a quote from Rousseau popped into my head between throbs.
‘The more things change, the more they stay the same’