City of IF

[Chinaren]

Chapter 4. Fools rush in...

Cast (in no particular order):
Evil Homer as ‘The Paladin Hero’
DukeReg as Oaf Duke Reginald Percival Thunderking Harwobble the Fifth.
Phang as The Dark Mistress
Muaddib as a wheely thing.
Smee as ‘the victim’
Jnmrcs as the High Commander
Luvd and Mr Moochie as ‘The Ravens’
Hyperion as the Mage.
Dean as the Dean of the Hood
Key as the Magical dignified Chamber Pot.
Araex as Homer’s steed.

And introducing…
Sorrow as a mysterious robed figure.
'Idea Master' as his wretched minion.
'Lord of the Night' as an Evil Demon Warrior.
Chainfire as Homer’s sword.
'Powers That Be' as General Powers ‘the perverted.’

The Hero

Homer stood up. This would not do! He could not allow Evil to triumph! He looked around at the remains of the merry band and moved about, helping the forces of good when he could, and showing the kind mercy of an honorable and quick death to the few survivors of Phang’s force.

He found Dean sat on a rock with a bandage wrapped around the stump of one leg, which had been severed below the knee.

“I can do nothing for this injury” said Homer, “though I will pray to the Great God for you.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, I am sure it will grow back soon.” Dean looked at the bloody stump for a moment uncertainly. “I must admit though, I have never lost a leg before. I must be getting careless.”

Homer moved on to survey his force. When he had finished his quick reconnoiter he found that only about 5 of the soldiers were still in a fit enough condition to fight. Duke Reg was still out cold and Homer didn’t wish to wake him. Hyperion had sat up and was sitting in a quiet heap on the ground sobbing to himself and scratching his ear with his foot.

Homer decided he could waste no further time. Phang was riding further away every second; it was up to him to stop her. He whistled and Araex came galloping around from behind a small copse of trees. Homer leapt up onto him. “I am going after the Evil one. Take care of the men in my stead.” He shouted to Dean one-leg. Dean nodded and watched as Homer’s horse reared up onto two legs against the setting sun before turning and galloping off after the giant slime trail.

He let Araex run. The mighty warhorse ate up ground at a frightening rate. Homer’s face was grim as he thought of what could happen if the Queen reached Cra-yon. He must catch her and purge a great Darkness from the lands.

It was not to be. As he raced across a field a dark figure stepped out from behind a tree, and into his path. Araex slowed and reared and refused to carry on, whinnying like a colt who has lost its mother. Homer reined him in and spent a few moments trying to control the frightened beast before admitting defeat and dismounting.

He wasted no more time on the horse, but turned to face the figure that had disrupted his travel.

The figure was matt black all over. He stood nearly twice as high as Homer, and his giant bat-like wings were higher still. Red eyes burned and fangs as long as fingers protruded from his mouth. There were no clothes on the demon and he, for he certainly was a he as proved by the large member dangling between his legs, was resting on a black sword nearly as tall as a man.

Beside him, standing like a loyal hound with its master, was the Golden walking chamber pot Homer had seen earlier.

A demon! An actual demon walking the earth! Homer felt his rage mount. “Foul Hellspawn!” He hissed “Prepare to be cleansed from this earth!”

The Demon chuckled a low and hair raising sound. “KNOW THIS MORTAL” he said, brimstone behind his every word, “I AM THE LORD OF THE NIGHT, AND THY LIFE ENDS HERE. COME FORTH LITTLE MAN AND MEET THY DOOM.”

Homer paused only a second to send a quick prayer of blessing to the Light God and stepped forward, drawing his great sword, Chainfire, from its sheath.

Lord of the Night met his advance with a massive swing of his black blade, Homer raised Chainfire to block it easily, but the impact nearly knocked him to his knees. He hands went numb from the blow.

The Demon laughed and swung again. Once more Homer blocked though Chainfire was nearly knocked from his hands as he did so.

Enormous blow after blow rained down on Homer and it was all he could do to keep from behind chopped in two by the giant blade. Finally a huge and terrible swing smashed Chainfire from him, sending his sword flying from his grasp to land far from him in the dry earth.

“NOW! PUNY WARRIOR, I SEND THEE TO MY MASTER…”

The Demon raised his blade, but as he prepared to swing something was thrust down over his head. It was the chamber pot, legs wriggling as it struggled to free itself from its unwanted position. Before the Lord of the Night could remove it a voice from behind him said a Word of Power.

There was an ominous rumble and suddenly the chamber-pot started to empty. Centuries of royal shit started to pour out over the unfortunate Lord of the Night’s head. A roar from him was cut off as he found a sudden pressing need to close his mouth.

“Quick! Let’s move!” A figure clad in a long black hooded robe appeared near Homer. “Not even that pile of crap will keep him occupied for long!”

Homer rushed over to his sword, his mysterious savior running next to him. Homer started to head back, but the demon was now buried under a mountain of smelly effluence. Homer had no desire to dig though that hill, and the figure in the robe pulled him towards his horse anyway.

“Come, we must flee!”

Shit started to fly as the Demon began to shake madly, cutting Homer’s protests short. He mounted Araex and looked at his helper. The figure whistled and from seemingly no-where a scraggy looking wretch dressed in rags appeared leading a brown horse and a small mule. The cloaked figure leapt upon the horse, whilst the wretch climbed onto the mule.

“Ride!”

Homer rode, following his two benefactors away from the turd covered, smelly, and very very angry Lord of the Night.

The Villain.

Phang rode the exhausted Smee-slug into her camp to the cheers of her soldiers. She sat upright daring not to show her weakness before her troops. After a short parade she stopped her steed in front of General Powers’ tent. The troops around her dispersed at her gesture. She dismounted the slug and took a moment to rest against his side. Muaddib was still tied to Smee’s saddle, but he was in a sorry state. One of his wheels was half hanging off, another one was bent and squeaking and he was covered in Smee slime.

That had been too close! Phang shook at the memory of the spell. She did take some satisfaction that she could still summon a powerful demon even after most of her powers had been drained though. The Lord of the Night should take care of anyone foolish enough to follow her. Of course, there would be payment, but that came later…

Phang stood straight as General Powers strode out of his tent. The Powers that Be, or “Powers the Perverted” as his was better known lead a small dog and a naked young boy on a leash behind him. He stopped and bowed nervously as he suddenly saw Phang.

“My Queen! Your arrival is sooner than I expected!”

Phang summoned up all her strength and stepped forward, seemingly totally at ease. “I see you have been having fun instead of directing my armies to victory.” She Smiled.

The Powers that Be went white. “M, m my Lady! I would never neglect…”

He was interrupted as Phang waved a hand. “Never mind that General. We all have our little pleasures. Now, if you don’t mind, I will use your tent to rest. We are tired from the journey. Perhaps you and your little friends would like to play with my Little Wheelie Thing here?” She gestured at Muaddib who perked up at the sight of the General’s dog.

The General bowed. “Your pleasure is my pleasure my Queen.” He said.

Phang smiled coolly. “Well, maybe some of them”. She put her finger under the boys chin and tilted his head up. The boys blank eyes stared back at nothing. “Mmmmm, perhaps I can use you…” She took the rope attached to the boy and turned and strode into the tent pulling him behind her. General Powers remained outside, shaking at the knees.

The Hero

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Homer asked the mysterious figure again. The three of them were sat around a campfire, holding hands out to the warm glow. Well, actually two of them were, the wretched figure was rooting around in the dark trying to find firewood and mumbling to himself. The figure had refused to answer questions during their horseback flight.

“I am Sorrow, that is all you need to know for now. For Sorrow is my name and Sorrow travels with me wherever I go.” Sorrow pointed a gloved hand towards the figure scrambling in the mud. “That soul used to be called the Master of Ideas. Now he is nothing but a wretch with his only thought being to serve me. A penance for actions past.”

The Idea Master looked up and limped eagerly up to his master. “You called me oh Great One? Can I somehow be of service to you? You need your shoes licked clean again? Some of that nasty might have got on them.” The wretch groveled at Sorrow’s feet tongue sticking out.

“Begone wretch, I have no need of you now!” Sorrow kicked the Idea Master brutally in the face.

“Of course Great One, at once Great One. I am wrong to bother you, bad Idea Master!” and he beat himself with his fist before letting loose a horrible wet sounding fart and scrambling away again.

“In truth he is my punishment as well as his own.” Sorrow said and turned back to Evil Homer. “The Dark Mistress will be at Cra-yon now. What are your plans? Perhaps I can assist you in some way?”

Evil Homer looked moodily into the flames. Sorrow spoke the truth. Cra-yon was now exposed to the Great Evil. Should he return to his Merry band, or seek answers elsewhere? Perhaps he should try once again to reach the fort, even though Phang would be there, he may be able to help somehow, to atone for his failure.

For the second time in as many chapters he rested his hands in his head. What should he do now?