Xavori
The Day Death Mattered
I had heard word that the magic that allowed one to return
from the dead had weakened slightly and that even the healers and
shrines could no longer bring back ghosts without the loss of
some of the soul's strength and ability. This weakening had
caused much concern and rumblings amongst the populace, and even
I was at first upset at the news. However, after pondering on it
for a short time, I saw the possibilities. No longer would even
the weakest of men be willing to face certain death if it meant
that he would be even weaker upon his return to life. It meant
that I could resume my work of gathering up all of Sosaria's
wealth without constantly resorting to the barbaric. To say the
least, I was very happy.
As I wandered the land, my hopes came true. I approached many
people offering them the choice of thier equipment or life, and
happily, most of them chose to give up their equipment. A few
mages escaped by recalling, but overall, it was turning out to be
a most profitable day. I travelled back and forth through my
forest and then decided to visit one of my favorite hunting
grounds, the orc fort past Cove.
When I reached the fort, there were many fighters about and a
few mages. I struck up polite conversation with the assembly
outside the gate, trying to assess who the threats were and who
the victims were. After several minutes, I decided that those few
who might be threats could easily be awed into submission. I
quickly dug through my pack and pulled out a Summon Daemon
scroll. I opened the scroll and the air filled with the smell of
brimstone. Being of a slightly jovial mood, I forced the name
"Fred" on the hellspawn and ordered him to guard me. I
then turned to the most powerful of the mages.
"Thy gold or thy life, knave."
"I'm outta here," he answered and then disappeared
in a flash of magic.
Several others in the assembly took flight, but I did not
bother to give chase. There were several well equipped fighters
in the fort itself who could not flee. I casually entered the
fort and approached the first of them, a young man named Moe.
"Hail, Moe," I called out.
"Hi," he replied.
"Thou hast an important choice, young one, doth thou wish
to die, or doth thou wish to donate thy gold to my cause?"
"I don't have any gold," he answered. "Can I
give you my equipment instead?"
"Now!" I ordered, suprised at how honest and naive a
victim I had found.
He immediately started handing me all of his equipment, even
his backpack with a smattering of reagents in it. Within moments,
he stood naked before me.
"Thank you for giving me a choice," he said.
I chuckled and answered, "I am a rogue, not a murderer. I
wouldst prefer that all my clientele were so forthcoming as
thyself."
"It's just kinda refreshing not to get slaughtered on
sight."
"Aye. And 'tis most refreshing to see yet another
satisfied customer," I replied.
He then took off running out of the fortress. I expect he was
going to tell his friends about the enjoyable exchange he had
just had, but I expected they would not find it as
"refreshing" as he had. I strolled off to a deserted
corner, dug through my pack to find the rune for the Ironwood Inn
of Vesper, and recalled. I entered the inn and took a room to
relax. It had been a good day.
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