Thursday, July 8, 2010


The barbarian, his massive frame covered only by a thick fur loincloth, shattered the stout door with a single kick.

A throne room stretched out before him, its floor inscribed in golden runes. Smoke from a dozen braziers curled up, as the smell of exotic incense filled the air. The stone walls were hung with tapestries worked in gold thread, depicting scenes of decadent delight. And upon a throne of marble, a silken pillow padding his bum, sat a man in a tall pointed hat.

“So,” began the man on the throne, as he made a note to call the carpenters. “Tardor the Barbarian isn’t it? You slew the Three-Eyed Dragon of Corumbia and vanquished of the Potentate of Fresno, did you not?”

“I am he. Him? Whatever,” said Tardor. “And you are Urgan, the Black Wizard of Bakeria!”

“Guilty,” said Urgan, with a slight chuckle. His hand rose to stroke his thin, white beard. “And I suppose you’re here to defeat me?”

“Yes! Everyone knows the villainy of Urgan!” Tordor pointed his huge two-handed sword at the wizard. “Your deeds are infamous! The destruction of Vomen! The burning of Avellia! The Baby-Souffle on Sundays!”

Urgan raised a finger. “Actually, I don’t do the baby thing. My marketer went a little nuts,” he said with a shrug.

“I care not! You will die for your crimes!” With a roar, Tordor leapt across the room, even as Urgan raised his hands, a spell tumbling from his lips. The barbarian’s huge sword swept down, cutting through the wizard’s point hat, but rebounding from his head as if he’d struck solid stone.

Urgan laughed. “You are a fool, barbarian, to challenge a wizard in his home!”

Tordor regained his balance and inspected his sword. The edge where it had struck the wizard was bent and twisted. “I thought the tales were a myth,” he said slowly, his eyes roving around the room.

“No, no myth. My magic protects me from simpletons with swords!” Urgan rose from his throne, tossing the remains of his hat to one side. He rubbed his head where Tordor’s sword had connected. “Not even a headache. Now then,” Urgan continued. “Time to die.”

The wizard raised his hands and lightning spat forth from his fingertips. Tordor leapt at the last second and the energy exploded against a tapestry, setting it alight. Urgan cackled, as he continued to spray lighting at the nimble barbarian.

Tordor dodged and weaved as the lightning crashed around him. He ignored the wizard’s taunts as he bounded, seemingly searching for something. After several minutes, he suddenly gave a shout.

“I have you now, wizard!” The barbarian leapt across the room, his sword raised high. Above the throne in a small nook, a golden vase rested upon a length of velvet. His sword swept across the vase, even as the wizard screamed.

The vase shattered, a fine powder billowing forth. Torgor landed and turned, a smirk upon his rugged features. “There, wizard! I have destroyed the source of your power!”

Urgan stared at his foe, his mouth open. “You . . . “ he began, as if unable to find the words. “You dick!”

Tomorrow: Part 2 – Someone Gets a Surprise!


Astrus said...

If that really was the source of the wizard's power he deserves what's coming to him.

Every evil spellcaster worth his salt should know better than to hide stuff like that in a semi-hidden location.
Neither in the most secure vault under your dungeon for that matter, unless you plan on being defeated after 2 and a half books of the heroes fighting their way there and then telling them with your dying breath that they got the wrong guy.

You keep it in plain sight of everyone so you can work on your plan B while the heroes are busy looking for it in every last secret stash. Actually that silken pillow would make for a good place to keep your source of power...

Anyway, back to the story. My money's on the vase holding the ashes of Urgan's beloved pet bunny.
The desecration of them sends the wizard into mad rage (also a good way to get yourself killed by a clever hero, let's hope he doesn't give a speech or at least postpones it until after desintegrating the barbarian).

Jason Janicki said...

You're either reading my mind, Astrus, or you're spying on me!

Confess and it will go better for you! :)