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A Mercenaries Plea

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by TrapperC, Apr 27, 2008.

  1. TrapperC

    TrapperC IncGamers Member

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    A Mercenaries Plea

    What follows is an open letter that was sent to the editors of the Lut Gholein Times, the Harrogath Herald, and the Kurast Observer.

    Due to the influence of the owners of these newspapers this letter was never published. It would seem that Mephisto, Diablo, Baal, Jerhyn, and Rupert Murdoch do not want attention drawn to the awful plight of the mercenaries that daily fight by our sides.

    But the truth is out there.

    PS I've stuck in a reference to the works of Tolkien and paraphrased a quote from "The Shawshank Redemption". Ten points to Slytherin if you can spot them.

    PPS I might edit this later. It's the first draft.
     
  2. TrapperC

    TrapperC IncGamers Member

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    Re: A Mercenaries Plea

    Hello. My name is Ilzan. I am a mercenary from the town of Lut Gholein. I desperately need your advice, as the terms of my employment seem to me to be highly unfair.


    Some months ago my master hired me out to a warrior from the steppes. At that stage I had no idea of the nightmare which my life would become.


    Let me start with the small things that make me despise this buffoon, who I can only describe as simply a barbarian.


    He is ignorant. He smells. He has the most ridiculous tattoos you have ever seen. He is incessantly and egotistically grunting on about his strength and valour. He takes all the credit for the battles we have won, never acknowledging my own contributions. And the townsfolk in the various places we visit do the same thing. They say things like "Thank you, Hero" to him and just ignore me. I can't tell you how much this annoys me.


    But that's not why I hate him.


    He is so worried about the possibility that I might steal from him that I am only allowed to wear a set of armour and a helmet to protect myself. I am not allowed a belt or boots, as he feels I might use them to hide gold or valuable items from him. This despite the fact that on our travels he often leaves piles of gold and precious objects lying on the ground. I have repeatedly told him that I could use this forsaken wealth to hire a Paladin or other Healer to cure my ailing mother and seventeen siblings, who are all suffering from the Flux. When I say this he just looks at me suspiciously and tells me to turn out my pockets. He also does not allow me to wear any form of jewellery, as he feels that such trappings of civilisation are effeminate symbols of decadence and that those who wear them are not to be trusted. But all same, the bloody hypocrite gets all excited when we find a magical ring or amulet that he feels might help him in combat.


    But that's not why I hate him.


    When we are about to enter combat the hulking macho [censored] always lets out a series of ear-splitting warcries. I have told him repeatedly that this idiotic behaviour hurts my ears, which are highly sensitive as a result of a bout of plague I had as a child, but he insists that he would not fight as well without making a fool of himself in this manner. So all I can do is try to anticipate when he is about to scream and rush out of hearing range as fast as I can. Even that doesn't work, as the conceited fool insists that I have to hear the warcries as well and repeats them when I come back to his side to defend him from the monstrous creatures that would rend him limb from limb if I wasn't their to save his pathetic [censored].


    But that's not why I hate him.


    He does not allow me any free time. No matter how inane his activities, he insists that I remain with him at all times. For example, I cannot tell you how many hours I have wasted listening to that old fool Deckard Cain waffling on about rubbish when I could have been in a tavern enjoying a tankard of mead to still the tremors that have recently started to afflict me in my living hours. Instead, I have to watch on as the slack-jawed muppet avidly nods with dawning comprehension as the Cain tells him for the umpteenth time "You have quite a treasure in that Horadric Cube..." I mean, I can understand that Cain is just senile and doesn't recall telling him these things before. But this musclebound fool just nods excitedly every time. Memory span of a [censored] goldfish, honestly. But whenever he wants some time off he just takes it. Often I don't see him for weeks at a time. I suspect he spends that time 'interfering with' cows in the Rogue Encampment. He insists that he instead spends his time in a 'secret' place.


    But that's not why I hate him.


    My master always impressed upon me that I should always be respectful to my employer. "The customer is always right", he'd say. So whenever the barbarian idiot gives me one of the healing potions that he carries in his belt I am required to respond with a cheery "Thanks". Again, if the selfish [censored] would just stop being so paranoid about his riches and let me wear a belt of my own...


    Often when we are in combat, and I am grievously injured, I find myself looking out of the corner of my eye at the large purple potions hanging from his belt that he usually hoards for himself. On very rare occasions he'll toss me one of those (it's not easy catching them when you're wielding a two-handed Thresher, you know), and I'll almost expire from shock. Usually he doesn't. Usually he'll let me die before giving me one of these potions he calls 'Big Grapes'.


    This brings me to some of the reasons I actually do hate him.


    Perhaps you find my complaints tiring. I know my employer does. He tells me I that I should just "man up" and stop whining all the time. Perhaps you are asking "why don't you just leave?" That's just it, I can't. He won't let me.


    Let me ask you this: In your line of work do you constantly find yourself being killed? Do you selflessly devote yourself in your numerous short and painful lives to defeating the Prime Evils for the good of all mankind and find your efforts being entirely unappreciated? 'Cause I do.


    Let me talk you through a typical death. You're surrounded by fiendish monsters that chill your blood just to look at them. They're freezing you, burning you, electrocuting you, poisoning you, cursing you. All the time you're hoping that some brawny fool will give you enough potions to keep you alive. But the [censored] [censored] doesn't. As you fall into blackness, the last words you hear are the barbarian [censored] calling you stupid and all kinds of obscene names besides. The next thing you know you're being brought back from the relative bliss of Death. Your eyes open, and the first thing you see is the face of the person you hate most in this world. You feebly mutter "Oh, please, not you again! Why can't you just let me die, you [censored] [censored]?!"


    But the barbarian idiot expects you to be grateful for all the gold he has spent on your unwanted resurrection. The colossal prick even manages to sound magnanimous. Your master, or one of his despicable cohorts, is meanwhile gleefully counting the gold that they have earned by bringing you back to an unwanted and inevitably brief life. You pull your wagon-drivers licence out of one of the few pockets you are allowed and point out the bit that says 'Do Not Rescuscitate." But the [censored] barbarian can't read and refuses to acknowledge that a piece of parchment could ever 'talk'. Your master, who you once thought actually cared about you, merely mumbles something about the way you should feel honoured to be fighting against evil again, while pondering the bling he'll be able to buy with the gold he's just earned from your resurrection.


    Are you starting to understand why I hate him yet? Well that's only half of it.


    Here's why I hate him:


    When my beloved Charsi and I fled the monastery we had to seperate. I swore that I would recover her Horadric Malus for her. She went to the Rogue Encampment, and I returned to my suffering family in Lut Gholein. Before we parted we plighted our troth on the hill of Ceryn Amroth. We promised to always be faithful to one another. That one blissful day we would be wedded.

    I was so sure that I loved her.

    From time to time rumours came to Lut Gholein. I refused to believe them. Charsi could never act in such a way, I knew it in my heart. I was a fool. Sure, I'd always found it a bit strange that she'd get me to dress up as a barbarian in our bedchamber, but I'd been willing to overlook it, and I was only too happy to please her.

    But when my employer and I returned to her smithy I saw the truth. I had yearned for the mere sight of her for so long, but she only had words for the fool I was with. "Oh Hi, I'm Charsi!" and "Wow, you're a barbarian aren't you?" Even though it was clearly obvious they had met before! She had been positively gushing with excitement. And not a word for me, her betrothed.

    And apparently she's like this with EVERY barbarian that comes to town.


    THAT'S why I hate him.


    So if you have any advice that can help me to end this nightmare, please contact me. I've tried the mercenaries union, but they say they can't help. I can find no way out.


    Please, please help me.
     
    Last edited: Apr 27, 2008
  3. MrProphet

    MrProphet IncGamers Member

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    Re: A Mercenaries Plea

    Pretty good, gave me a chuckle. :grin:
     
  4. aishilee

    aishilee IncGamers Member

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    Re: A Mercenaries Plea

    Dear Poor Ilzan,

    I feel for you.

    I talked about it with Chalan and you kinda seemed familiar to him. He heard tales from fellow Mercenaries that one of them actually got stuck onto a nasty oversized barb..

    Well, I have always treated my Chalan With great Care. Gave him the finest Armor an helm ever forged, the most unqiue cryptic Axe imbue with the mightiest magic created. I loved him as much as he loved me. He would always charge into the battle fearlessly even though he knew it was a sucide so as to buy time, for me to muster whatever Lightning spells i got before the evil can strike me.

    Well, if you can do what my Chalan did, den I would love to buy you out..



    Regards
     
  5. IntellectSucks

    IntellectSucks IncGamers Member

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    Re: A Mercenaries Plea

    such trappings of civilisation are effeminate symbols of decadence and that those who wear them are not to be trusted-Shawshank?

    Before we parted we plighted our troth on the hill of Ceryn Amroth-This one I know is Tolkien
     
  6. Dirkw

    Dirkw IncGamers Member

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    Re: A Mercenaries Plea

    "He is so worried about the possibility that I might steal from him that I am only allowed to wear a set of armour and a helmet to protect myself. I am not allowed a belt or boots, as he feels I might use them to hide gold or valuable items from him. This despite the fact that on our travels he often leaves piles of gold and precious objects lying on the ground."

    So nice :D
     
  7. HarbingerOfDeth

    HarbingerOfDeth IncGamers Member

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    Re: A Mercenaries Plea

    hehe, not bad stuff
     
  8. TrapperC

    TrapperC IncGamers Member

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    Re: A Mercenaries Plea

    Thanks for all the feedback.:smiley:

    You're right on the Tolkien reference, but not the Shawshank one. If you're a fan of that movie I'll give you a clue: Beers on the roof.


    I have told Ilzan your story, aishilee. What can I say, the poor chap was in tears. He and Chalan were good friends during their training so he's glad you are so caring towards him.

    As he wiped the moisture from his eyes he spoke of the many times that he had been hoping that his barbaric Master would let him use some wonderful new equipment that they had found...

    His Master would come back from talking to Charsi, a smug and satisfied look on his face as he buttoned his trousers, his pockets jingling with gold.

    Ilzan would ask him, "So can I use that magical helmet we found, instead of the tinfoil hat I'm using at the moment?"

    His Master would look at him blankly and respond, "Erm, actually I sold it."

    The barbarian often simply forgot that his employee could use some of the items they found, and lined his pockets with wealth due to his uncaring and forgetful ignorance.

    I know, it's hard to believe that any employer could be so insensitive, isn't it?


     
  9. MysteryNotes

    MysteryNotes IncGamers Member

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    Re: A Mercenaries Plea

    This is an interesting read, great job :thumbup:
     
  10. ScionOfStorm

    ScionOfStorm IncGamers Member

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    Re: A Mercenaries Plea

    Ahahaha, some VERY! nice moments you had there, mate :)

    nice, really nice. Amusing piece of work :)
     
  11. stratosfear

    stratosfear IncGamers Member

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    Re: A Mercenaries Plea

    A very well written piece... and very funny as well!!!

    :)
     
  12. DoomBoy

    DoomBoy IncGamers Member

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    Re: A Mercenaries Plea

    lol

    10chars
     
  13. Brutass

    Brutass IncGamers Member

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    Re: A Mercenaries Plea

    Dearest Ilzan, my heart saddend when i heard of your plight, i feel your pain. This "Barbarian" as you call him does not deserve you. After all of the sacrifices and truely horrible experiences he has made you endure you would expect some sort of gratitude, maybe a tankard of ale to soothe your parched throat, perhaps a soft bed to rest your weary bones, and a fair maiden to tend to your wounds. I am an Amazon, a strong and fierce woman warrior, but underneath my well tuned femine muscular frame i have a kind heart. I would truely appreciate, nay be extremely honoured to have such a brave and loyal warrior like yourself to fight by my side. I do not pretend that your life fighting by my side would be any easier, it would be indeed be full of constant battles and quests for that sake of human kind, but i assure you i would not yell and scream at you constantly for no reason or to just attract attention to myself. With life's battles must come rewards if one is to seek a balance in ones life, and you will be well rewarded for your loyalty. You may find me in the Lut Golen Tavern; im sure you will have no trouble finding me. A cool tankard awaits you should you find the courage
     

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