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An Impractical Guide to Fanfiction (PGtE SI) - NaNoWriMo

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Hyvelic, Nov 3, 2019.

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  1. Threadmarks: Introduction into the World, Waking up in Who Knows Where
    Hyvelic

    Hyvelic Da green god Mork, da devoura uv Gork

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    AN: This is for NaNoWriMo, my goal is to get a chapter of 1.6+ length out every day, and sadly because of this being the prologue is shorter than that goal, so we are off to a good start... Anyways It's set in A Practical Guide to Evil, and according to my notes, it's going to be a slow trip, 3-4 chapters in is when we start REAAAALLY getting into the PGtE stuff, if only barely so I apologize ahead of time for the Exposition and boring walking that is about to ensue.

    X.X.X.X.X
    Chapter 1: Introduction into the World, Waking up in who knows where

    ‘What happened last night?’ I wonder as I briefly look around seeing that I am in a field. I don’t drink so I couldn’t have gotten drunk so that rules out me somehow drinking myself into a field is really unlikely to have happened. I take a second look at the empty field and see that there isn’t snow which is really unlikely considering it was not only snowing yesterday but that it was slightly warm. With that covered, I focus on trying to figure out what happened last night.

    I don’t know what happened, I was playing my new game, The Outer Worlds, when everything goes blank. Not in the sense of it fading to black, but that it just is empty. Missing from my mind somehow. That… doesn’t bode well for my situation. I don’t know what exactly is going on but I don’t think what is probably happening is good for me at all. I check my person to see what it is I have on me and what I find is that I have nothing that I can use to figure out where I am. My phone is missing, no wallet, nothing but the clothes on my back, the jacket I’m wearing and my glasses.

    I scan the plains one last time before I pick a direction. I don’t know which direction specifically it is but when I am stuck out here without knowing my actual location going somewhere is better than going nowhere.

    As I walk my thoughts turn back to the one thing I could go for right now. A book, or well, something to read. If I had a book I could do well enough and read something, anything Scifi would be preferred but anything good or interesting, even if I have read it before. Hell, I’d love the Hitchhiker’s guide, it’d be a great read, or maybe Ender’s Game. It might allow the entire situation to be fun all around if I could just get my hands on something.

    My lack of a book aside, the plains haven’t let up. I don’t see anything that could be called a landmark, only that there were grass and flatlands for miles and miles in every direction and I couldn’t afford to miss anything, but with the light, my glasses are making it difficult to see everything without a darker tint that hid… something. I honestly don’t know what it was that I thought there was out there only that I couldn’t see it.

    I let out a sigh as I walk onward, I honestly can’t tell how long I’ve been going, which is really annoying. I could have been walking for what feels like hours, but in actuality is likely to have just been minutes knowing my sense of time. This feels like something is going horrifically wrong, I really wish I could find something to read, I’m desperate for… something to get my mind off of the walking, and the pain in my side. It gets annoying when my hip starts to hurt.

    I begin to curse as I walk because god damned there wasn’t much to focus on. I guess I could think about the ideas I have for the upcoming writing project I am doing, it sucks I don’t have anything to write with otherwise I would be happy to brainstorm all day, but because I don’t have a way to make notes I’m screwed since I’ll probably miss a good idea or something.

    I know I can’t write well, and I know that it’s a fun project for me to waste time working on whenever I can. When I do work on stuff time just… flies and I hate how I can’t use the time better. I am just horrible at writing, no matter how much I enjoy doing it I can’t actually do it well. It’s frustrating honestly, failing repeatedly at something you enjoy.

    I stop walking and sit down unsteadily. I sigh as I take a break from the repeating landscape and lack of… anything of note. It’s starting to get suspicious and it really annoys me heavily.

    Something isn’t right here honestly, I can’t seem to find anything of note, in fact, it seems that the only thing of note is the fact there is nothing to note. I shake my head again and think about what it is I’m going to do.

    I hate how everything is going, looking for… something and there isn’t anything. I can’t find anything involving civilization. Roads are everywhere so you’d think that after walking in a single direction for who knows how long I would run into… something that involves civilization. Roads, as I said, are one such thing, another would be buildings or waste that would litter the nature, even if it’s the cleanest forest, plains, or whatever other feature, there would be litter, garbage that lays on the landscape, something as simple as a skittles bag would make sense.

    Irritation at everything is starting to get out of hand, and I am regretting not just sitting around waiting for someone, because wouldn’t it make more sense for me to stay in one spot and sit around waiting for someone or something to find me? Fuck that was a survival tip wasn’t it, or well… common sense. You’re always told to stay in one spot if you’re lost, I think.

    Or was that not a survival tip and I’m getting confused with a different tip. Now I’m getting irritated with myself more than ever. Flopping back I let out a brief noise of anger. Everything is falling apart and goddamnit all for that fact. I can’t find my way out of these plains, I can’t seem to figure out why there aren’t any signs of humanity out here in the first place, my hip is killing me from all this walking, and now I’ve confirmed that I can’t even remember whether or not I know anything survival related.

    There are a few things that could make this worse, and I have no doubt that in a few minutes that I’ll hit those as well. I’ll just lay down here and regret my life choices I guess. Oh, and why am I even in this FUCKING SITUATION TO BEGIN WITH? I let out an incoherent scream at the reminder of my inability to recall what I even did last night. It’s so annoying, not being able to recall anything you’ve done in a day, and everything of note just blends together to create a shitshow of events happening at the same time. What a world, what a world. I think I'll just lay here for a while and regret my life choices.
     
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  2. Threadmarks: Continuing the search of civilization
    Hyvelic

    Hyvelic Da green god Mork, da devoura uv Gork

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    I don’t know how long it is before I decide to get moving again, I don’t know the length of the day from when I woke up. I like a fool failed to wake up and attempt to see when it was from where the sun was in the sky. For all I know it was early morning or noon and I refused to look at the sun to see which way it’s heading.

    Of course, I could try to look at the shadow I’m making but that wouldn’t tell me enough… it could. If the shadow was long then perhaps it would be a good idea to try and find some shelter. That could work, although now that I’m getting into ideas, perhaps it might be a smart idea to just open my eyes and see where the sun is at. If it’s close to the horizon then I should be looking for cover, if it’s not, I keep walking.

    I am an idiot, jeez, perhaps it would be best if I were to just start moving again. I lay there a few more minutes before I take the moment to get up. Looking at the sun finally to confirm a rough estimate of what time it is I see that the sun is roughly at noon. At least I think it’s noonish, with the sun at the peak of the sky, for all I know it could be an hour before or after.

    Letting out a sigh the journey continues onwards. The walk is reaching unbearable levels of mental anguish, there are limits to how many times you can look around seeing nothing at all. I could try to do something fun, wasn’t skipping better than walking or running or something? Perhaps that would be the best outcome in the situation. Shortly after the skipping begins, it ends. While it was a change of pace at first, it wasn’t exactly what I was expecting or hoping to happen.

    The walking will continue until morale improves, and boy is that philosophy working. Read: doing nothing at all. I begin to let out a sigh again only to choke it back as I spot something in the distance.

    It looks to be a tree and oh boy does that make me happier than it should. I almost sprint towards the thing, I force myself to walk again, only to settle for skipping again as the happy medium. The tree doesn’t appear to be one I recognize, although I wouldn’t know how to recognize one type of tree from another, the obvious difference between Palm Trees and evergreens withstanding of course. Though speaking of Evergreens, this looks to be more like that type of tree, but I know it’s not one that I’ve seen before, at least in the neighborhood I live in.

    It seems lively, so maybe it hasn’t felt the sting of autumn yet? That’s the only explanation I can think of at the top of my head to explain why it is that I am seeing green leaves on the tree instead of orange, yellow, or brown leaves in their place. There is also the explanation that I somehow ended up further from home than I thought I have, though I don’t know of any plains where the tree would be geographically to stay green.

    Shaking my head, and that line of thought, away I look for a reasonably sized branch that I could use as a walking stick. It’d give me something to focus on or use should the need come up. Just because I haven’t noticed any animals doesn’t mean they aren’t out there. The last thing I need is to be ambushed by some animal who is smart as a raptor, or clever as one. I snort and spot a particularly large branch that I could reach from the ground.

    After a few attempts to break the branch, I give up and go for a smaller one. Nodding as I get rid of as many of the offshoot limbs coming off from the original branch as I could. Looking it over one last time I make sure that there isn’t… something I missed. Not seeing anything obvious I begin the walk of madness again.

    I begin to sing in my head at first, it was a simple song but it did help relieve the boredom from walking. After a while, I moved onto Queen’s we will rock you. After finishing that for the second time I switch to a different rock song. Eventually, the music just turned into some combination of several songs mixed into one. It sounds horrible when I start to sing out loud, not yelling or shouting, but quietly to myself.

    As I finish a verse from Sabaton’s newest album I stop to rest for a few minutes. Looking at the sun I notice that it hasn’t moved as much as I thought it would. It has moved from noonish, but it still isn’t near evening somehow. The sun is around… Five? I can’t exactly figure out the most immediate answer but I do eventually work it out.

    I sigh and set down the branch I was using as a walking stick. I take the moment to stretch as I take what closely resembles a break. Of course, however, this is when I see something that is immediately worth walking further towards. I spot two dots or specks in the distance that was not there before.

    I quickly pick up the walking stick once again as I go continue walking in the hopes of seeing what exactly it is that I see in the distance. Of course, as I am making my way towards the two dots, they appear to be making their way towards me. I can see how much larger they are than me they are as whatever the specks are, make their approach to me.

    Eventually, I manage to make out more details that I couldn’t see before. The specks in the distance appear to be animals of some sort, what they are is hard to tell because I don’t seem to recognize the coloring or the shape of the creature.

    Of course, as a minute passes I manage to tell that it’s not just an animal. The creatures number in four, two… horses, I want to say, and one rider each for them both. Now I can’t tell what it is that they are exactly, but for a guess, I can say it’s pretty good. I have a great feeling about this!

    Another minute passes and I manage to spot what it is that they are for sure, or rather I can tell that they are for sure Rider and Horse. The matter of what it is they are wearing is another matter completely. It looks to be something different than a saddle, or rather something more than a saddle. Maybe it’s just something that I wouldn’t know that horses or their riders need to be able to do what they do? It’s not like I can say otherwise. I don’t exactly know enough about horses to say otherwise.
    As time goes on and we can see each other I pause in my walk. I blink several times before rubbing my eyes unsure that what I am seeing is correct. The reason for that is because I am seeing what looks to be plated armor on the horses. Why the hell is there horse armor? The more important question I have is answered, however. I appear to be somewhere south-southwest-west of where I went to sleep, or rather passed out in. If I remember correctly there aren’t any medieval festivals or things in my region or to the east in any form.

    I look around them to see if I can spot a crowd or anyone other than them I can talk to, even if I am horribly lost and possibly kidnapped I shouldn’t interrupt whatever it is they have that is going on. It’s a stupid thought but it doesn’t matter in the end. I don’t seem to see where the observers are, or a manager, or anyone else at all. Maybe this is still a Medieval place, but this is where they keep the animals so that they can eat, feed, or exercise when not doing a show? That would explain why there isn’t anyone but us.

    This would also explain why they are wearing plate-mail or whatever that armor is. Since they would be training the animals to get used to the heavy armor that they going to spend a great deal of their own time in.

    I sigh and begin to approach them again. Finally, now that we are within sight of each other I manage to spot more defining features about both the steeds and the riders. They are all armored, which only helps prove my theory of this being a training session, not a rehearsal since they’d probably have more people, but I think the armor is fairly well maintained. I can see that it isn’t marked with anything wrong, or stupid onto it.

    I also think I manage to catch sight of the coat of arms they are going to be using. It’s a little strange that they are both wearing it but I can’t complain now can I? The coat of arms appears to be a set of bells laid upon a blue field. I’m curious about the symbolism behind that exact Coat of arms, but I choose to push the question to the back of my mind as we are finally within talking range.

    XXXXXX

    AN: This is being Crossposted and I had time to get this over here finally, so that's why there is an immediate double post.
     
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  3. Akuma-Heika

    Akuma-Heika The Devil Exists Within

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    What do they mean?
     
    Last edited: Nov 3, 2019
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  4. Hyvelic

    Hyvelic Da green god Mork, da devoura uv Gork

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    what does what mean?
     
  5. daimahou

    daimahou Gentleman Tentacle(s)

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    The numbers, Mason.

    *has no idea either*
     
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  6. nick012000

    nick012000 Versed in the lewd.

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    Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in Practical Guide to Evil? Clearly the existence of Named are a clear sign of the nonexistence of the Gods. ;)
     
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  7. Akuma-Heika

    Akuma-Heika The Devil Exists Within

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    PGtE NaNoWriMo
    Sorry, QQ ate it :/
     
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  8. OrigamiPhoenix

    OrigamiPhoenix Getting out there.

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  9. Threadmarks: The Sharp instruments of a Kingdom
    Hyvelic

    Hyvelic Da green god Mork, da devoura uv Gork

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    As the knights approach, I start to yell out trying to ask them for directions before stopping. The quality of their arms and armor is outstanding I notice, I am curious where it was made, it looks like it was taken quite good care of and maintained regularly… I think so at least since I wouldn’t know myself. Shaking my head I return to the situation at hand. “Hello!,” I call out “could you help me? I seem to be lost and don’t know where I am!” The riders don’t seem to be stopping but I think they’ve heard me.

    I can tell how by the way that they are nodding at each other before they look at me again. At least I think that’s what happened, it’s hard to tell because they are on horses and are kind of moving towards me with every moment. After a few moments, they start to slow down and I attempt to talk with them again. “Hello…? If I may ask you two where I am would you answer my question?” One begins to dismount their horse and as they begin their approach I am overcome with nervous energy. Why is it that they aren’t talking to me? Could I be further than I thought? Did they even understand what it was I said? The next event puts that last concern behind me, but it does also replace that concern with another one.

    Particularly why is it that they are holding a sharpened blade towards me?! Now I am not the brightest person around, nor am I the most knowledgable towards swords and those that use them, but I do know what sharpened metal looks like, and this sword, looks sharp. How sharp some would ask, well sharp enough that I can tell that it will cut me if it is used on me. I am all for realism when it comes to the arts, practical effects are sometimes the best solution to a problem that would otherwise be impossible to overcome with special effects alone or even CGI. But giving people actual weapons is a different situation altogether.

    After they make a gesture of sort to get my attention off of the sword and onto them I hear their voice. “Do not move, you are going to answer our questions, and you are going to do it to our satisfaction. Do you understand me?” the armed rider asks. I quickly nod to give them the idea that I am all for answering their questions, at least I hope I do because it’s not an idea at all. After seeing my enthusiasm the one with the sword pointed at me speaks up. “Now, who are you.” Seeing myself in a precarious situation I attempt to answer the question. At least I would if it weren’t for the fact I cannot exactly recollect what my name is.

    How is this possible you may ask? Well, It’s likely a side effect of whatever it was that knocked me out. I, the innocent that I am, attempt to explain that I don’t recall my name at that moment. It’s all still a little blurry, they’d believe me… right? The quick answer is no, I figure this out by the fact that their eyes narrow. I feel as if I am on thin ice with them and I don’t know why. Perhaps they think I’m some strange weirdo of sorts? That’d be reasonable to assume, as well as explain why they are pointing their very sharp blade at me still.

    “I see.” They say coldly, “Then perhaps you could tell us where you are from?” Now, this is a question I can answer, and answer I do! However, it appears that it is not the answer they are looking for. I can tell once again by the fact they the sword is now jabbing me, and it is indeed as sharp as it looks. Oh god. I… I don’t think this is fake… I mean… Even if they had real weapons as actors or… or… or something they wouldn’t use them, they’d be more likely to threaten me with them, not poke me with them! Of course, I could be jumping to conclusions… yes, that’s what’s going on. I’m just jumping to conclusions. “Well, I haven’t heard of that place before, and we’d know the other countries and regions on Calernia, but if you claim to be from further, I still wouldn’t trust what you’re saying. You’re coming with us, spy. The King will like to figure out why it is you are here.”

    I freeze, not only because the sword is poking my again, and is close to breaking the skin, but because of the things that the person said. The words flashed in my mind in order of importance. Spy, a word used to describe someone using espionage or something like it at the least. Next, there is the word King. There aren’t too many kingdoms, or monarchies on Earth, at least to the best of my knowledge. Although, I should specify that I don’t know of them, not that they don’t exist, so there is a real chance that the country I’m in does have a monarchy and has had contact with the wider world. Otherwise, how would we be speaking English? We wouldn’t is the simple answer.

    The last word is more of me feeling a sense of Deja vu. I feel like I have heard or read the world Calernia somewhere before but I don’t know where. It could have been from anywhere or anything and that is what’s annoying. I don’t recognize the actual name itself, but rather it feels familiar, like something I’ve seen, read, or even wrote a hundred times, but every time I think that I remember where I have heard it, it escapes. Although, the abject terror that I’m in doesn’t help a bit.

    The one that isn’t on their horse keeps their weapon out and pointed at me. The other one however finally gets off of their horse and rummages through something out of sight. Eventually, I figure out what it is they are doing. The first person is keeping me under guard incase I attempt to do something… funny. The other is getting a rope or something rope-like to bind me with so that I can’t escape. I figure this out quickly enough once said rope is coming into view. I’m not exactly sure what they are going to do with me once I am bound, but I don’t like it at all. I have this horrible feeling shining through saying that I’m likely going to die, or something worse if the two here get their way regarding my treatment. Though, that fate I dreaded pales in comparison to what happens.

    I am tied to something on one of the horses. I am now being lead against my will towards god knows what. I’m not even riding the horse, no I should specify that I am walking. Now this by itself isn’t a horrible thing, nor a horrible fate in comparison to what could have happened to me, but after an ungodly amount of time spent walking, with little to no breaks to rest up and recover, I was spent. I doubt I would make it to wherever it is that they are taking me, but you won’t see me telling them because it might just make them think of some other way to get me moving, one far less pleasant than the current fate I am suffering.

    I keep my mouth shut and accept my current fate, I am going to get dragged somewhere I don’t want to, and I’m likely to suffer worse once I get there. Woe is me, woe is me. I have some serious questions regarding the line of thought the knights have, but with what I assume is a long walk ahead of me I guess I’m going to have to wait to ask those questions. I am bound tightly to the horse and practically dragged away at first, it’s only after the first few minutes I get used to the pace that they set. I sigh and as I do I can hear them talking. Well, at least I can make out the sounds of talking being made. They are saying something and I can only pick out bits and pieces of it and even though I doubt I can pick up more from what they are saying, I attempt to anyways.

    It doesn’t work, but it gives me something to focus on other than the thoughts of being executed far from home. That’s usually what happens to spies right? They get killed, or struck down, or… something involving death after they get caught. Of course, I could try to kill myself like one of those spies would, but then again I’m not a spy and wouldn’t know of a way to do such a thing. That’s the real kicker in the end. If I was a spy I would be more prepared for… this, but instead I’m not prepared for any of this while also suffering the effects of not being prepared for this.

    Without the walking stick, I’m putting more pressure on my right leg than I should and I can feel it crying in pain as time goes on. The pain doesn’t fade, nor does it seem to be willing to negotiate with me in any form. The pain only continues to push me into finding some way to end my suffering, or at the least find something to focus on other than the pain. Surprisingly this works and my attempts are further picking up what is happening between the two riders works, sort of.

    I manage to pick out several things regarding their jobs and what lead to them coming across me. They were just patrolling around to keep the peace or to help anyone from somewhere named “Callow”. The name surprisingly hits another Deju Vu moment with me because I recognize the name, at least I think I do. But moving back to what they were doing, apparently, the spot I was in was far out of the way, their last stop so to speak. If I was any later or sooner I may have missed them entirely. That’s a thought for sure. If I missed them I would have probably just kept walking somewhere and not been bound. Why couldn’t I just wander about aimlessly? That’d be better than being forced to walk to what I think is a death sentence.

    Because who are the people more likely to believe. These riders who are probably some bigshots or something, or me, the stranger saying how the people shouldn’t trust the government and that we should rise and strike them down. Of course, I wouldn’t even say a fraction of that but you have to find humor where you can… unless it’s blood-related. Then keep Humors away from me. I want to keep all my blood inside me if at all possible.

    With that last thought, the events finally kicked in and have pushed hard enough to collapse from exhaustion.
     
    Last edited: Nov 4, 2019
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  10. nick012000

    nick012000 Versed in the lewd.

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    "King"? Sounds like it was before the Conquest. Either immediately before the Conquest, or a long time before it.
     
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  11. Threadmarks: A Hangman's Noose
    Hyvelic

    Hyvelic Da green god Mork, da devoura uv Gork

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    The fact that I collapsed from the state I was in meant nothing to the two riders. They seemed to take a special interest in making sure I stayed as such. They did this by speeding up so that I was practically dragged the final portion of the journey. It’s hard to see exactly what is going on, but what I do see is something akin to what happens when you go fast enough in a car, although instead of it just being because of speed relative to everything else, it's because I can’t focus on what exactly is going on.

    Though after a short period everything begins to come into focus and I find myself no longer moving as fast as we were previously. Eventually, they come to as much of a stop that I need to recover and I take the chance to look at where it is we are going. It appears to be a walled city of some sort, although everything is still blurry to the extreme I can make out a rough estimate for how high the walls are, and they are larger than a lot of things I’ve seen in my life. They don’t beat Skyscrapers but they make it hard to say that there are quite a few things larger than them.

    The reason we appear to have stopped is due to the riders checking in at a gate or entryway, it’s hard to tell. I sigh with relief at the moment to catch my breath and attempt to stand up again, it’s hard and takes more than a little effort, but I do manage to stand up. My back, arms, and legs ache to the extreme but I barely manage to stay up. Everything is still blurry but I think it’s not as bad as before. Things could quite easily escalate for the better or worse at any second, and I doubt things are going to get better. I attempt to let out a sigh but all that comes out is a wheezing cough. The coughing from me worsens briefly before I keel over. I quickly use my forearms as a brace against my legs and stop myself from collapsing. As soon as I think I have my balance sorted out enough to where I won’t collapse from tipping over any further than I already am I feel a tug coming from the rope binding my hands.

    It appears that we are about to start moving out again, great. I take a few experimental steps almost failing each time, but eventually, I do get the hang of using my legs again. My body protests this idea heavily, I am reminded of with every step after, feeling deep pains from all over my body. If I didn’t know any better I would say that I broke something, but it’s probably just me exaggerating… yea, that’s it.

    The tugging on the rope increases in ferocity and almost causes all the progress I made in standing up return to zero. It doesn’t manage to cause me to keel over and die, but I almost wish I did at this point. Isn’t this pointless cruel at this point? Don’t they care about what’s going on towards me? I look up at where the rope leads and see the barest hint of people. I can’t make out their faces, and I can barely hear their voices. It feels as if I’m underwater regarding noises. I don’t hear a ringing, so that’s… something bad avoided I think. At least something is going my way at this point, I’ll take what I can.

    It takes a minute, I think, but I manage to make my way towards the group of people. I think there are four more people than there were before, but it’s hard to tell. I think I see the two riders that brought me here but it’s hard to tell them apart from the others in the group. For all that I know the riders left to go do… rope related things. Probably find some poor person that doesn’t deserve anything horrible done to them and string them up. String them up and drag them to god knows where, calling them a spy or traitor, or some other horrible thing. Time passes, I can’t tell how much but I know it does because the scenery has changed. Instead of the gate, I appear to be moving through a town, or well, a city. I can tell by the state of the buildings and what they look like.

    The buildings look nice for something I can barely tell apart from each other. At least the people who are likely going to kill me have good taste in architecture. That’s another bright side of the situation. Heh, that reminds me of a song. I attempt to whistle out the merry little tune as I walk to what is assuredly my death but all that I can manage is a harsh cough that forces me to stop moving for a hot second.

    It is in this one second I am pulled forward again by the people who are holding them. I’m a little light-headed I think, everything is starting to get to be a different kind of fuzzy than the sight-related fuzziness.

    Eventually, we reach the end of the line, I think I see a few people peek out of their boxes to gawk at me, but it might have just been my mind playing a trick on me, in fact, I believe it must have been. Who would stare at some poor, brutalized man who looks to have been hurt gravely… A lot of people would actually, now that I get a moment to think about it. Perhaps that’s why they were staring-

    I feel a sharp yank from the ropes I am bound with and my train of thought is derailed, and with it comes the trainwreck. I stare at where it is I appear to have been brought to and I see that it’s a stone hallway. It smells like something big is going on, because the hallway I find myself in looks fancy, with painting, flowers, tables, carpets, and a bunch of other stuff that I can’t think of the name for are all around me. It is here that I think I hear something coming from a nearby door, it is a large door and it may lead to somewhere important.

    But that doesn’t matter more than the fact that it appears that I am being held outside of the important room and can’t exactly do anything but stare blankly at everything and use my head to try and figure out what is going to happen to me. I make a mental note to myself to put twenty dollars on me getting tortured or something. I look around in an attempt to find something of worth to focus on as the pain in my legs decides to act up.

    Before I could do that though something is shoved into my hands. It looks and feels like a cup and I see where it came from. One of the people around me gave it to me and I don’t know whether or not it was on purpose or not. But how couldn’t it be any other way except on purpose? Oh well, I sniff the cup in an attempt to see if I can pick up whatever it is that is in the cup.

    I don’t smell anything that I recognize, but that doesn’t mean anything right now. Taking a risk and with a small hint of desperation I down the liquid in the cup. It appears that the mystery liquid was just water. Thank goodness for small mercies. I also do curse out whoever thought it was a good idea to give me a full cup of water instead of increments of it over a short period. Because of that water, the fatigue on my body feels heavier than it is, I also hear my dry throat cough in protest of suddenly finding itself with hydration.

    I drop the cup in the almost violent coughing fit I have, and it is soon replaced with another cup of water. What is this? My birthday? Huzzah, two cups of water after god knows how long without it. I down this one like I did the last one. It quickly stands out that I may have been a little hasty with drinking it, but I don’t care. I’m thirsty and I’m going to drink whatever water I am offered. After a moment, my body seems to relax a little bit allowing me to suffer the knowledge that they probably drugged that water or something.

    Although, at least now I won’t tear my vocal cords a new one when they start to poke and prod me with their tools. That is an upside in my opinion, in fact, I should test out my sort of refreshed vocal cords. “Test Test, one-two, one-two.” my voice is a bit dry, even with the water to help. But it isn’t unbearable. I close my eyes and force them to do so as hard as I can. I hold them tightly shut for several seconds before opening my eyes.

    It seems to have helped me out quite a bit, I can now semi-tell which guard and slash or oppressor is holding the rope I am bound to. They are smaller than me, I don’t know why they would have someone short guard me, but it might be because they don’t have too many tall guards or oppressors to have the sole job of intimidating me into submission? I try to parse out more details and features I can use to identify them later if I survive whatever is happening right now.

    And as if summoned by the very thought I had, the doors begin to open into a throne room. How do I know that it is a throne room you may ask? The giant chair does help quite a bit. The fact that the room itself is spacious and has a bunch of gaudy decorations everywhere didn’t make things harder for sure.

    Though, looking at the throne I see something I don’t expect. I see someone sitting in it. I blink several times, but they don’t disappear. Well then, that is not what I was expecting at all. Maybe a guard captain, or torturer, or someone expendable. But no, it appears that I am going to meet the person on the throne, who could kill me without a moment’s notice, or ordered me killed with half a care. Great, just great. Let’s play a game of Russian Roulette, only this time the gun is fully loaded, and I can’t be the one who pulls the trigger.
     
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  12. Threadmarks: A King’s Trial
    Hyvelic

    Hyvelic Da green god Mork, da devoura uv Gork

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    The second thing I notice in the room is a large number of guards, they look just as similar to the people who had dragged me here physically. They are all different sizes, shape and have slightly different things all over. They all have the same coat of arms, with the two bells on a blue background. I once again must ask what the symbolism behind the coat of arms is. Before I can put much more thought into what I am pulled forward by the guard currently holding my bonds.

    With the tug at the rope holding my hands together I finally notice the entirety of the situation. It appears that the king was in the middle of addressing what I can only guess is court. I couldn’t tell at first due to my focus on all the armed guards ready to cut me to pieces but there are a large number of people who are not as armored as the guards are. I can only tell the difference in rank, or rather the difference between the guards and what I assume to be nobles because the Nobles are wearing more varied pieces of cloth, armor, and accessories compared to that which the guards are wearing.

    It is then I notice that they are all staring at me. They are probably wondering why the hell it is that some… beggar has been dragged into court to face the King. I too wonder why it is that they have done that, who would think it is a good idea to throw a random brutalized civilian before the king in the middle of the meeting what amounts to the most important people in the country and expects it to end well? Only a fool would expect that to work out for the best. I can only hope that I, a fool, will survive. The walk of shame that I am undergoing seems to only increase in intensity the closer I am pulled towards the king. With every step, I feel my legs shake and quiver with exhaustion, my body aches, my clothes likely were torn and have become dirtier than they have in a long time. With every step, the tired feeling that has overcome me gets heavier and heavier, the shaming eyes of the nobles present seem to scorn me and make the ache in my body hurt deeper than they already are.

    It soon becomes unbearable to breathe, I feel my lungs killing themselves in pain and I am almost physically wheezing as I get closer and closer. I see several guards tense and keep a hand near their weapon as I have finally come to a stop. I attempt to meet the eyes of the King, but I fail, repeatedly. It seems to hurt me more when I look directly at him, but instead of averting my eyes I decided to look at his forehead and nose. It doesn’t stop the pain, nor seem to get rid of how uncomfortable it is to look at him, but it does do its job of letting me at least maintain some semblance of dignity.

    I shouldn’t be worrying about it right now, but it’s… something. I may lack it most of the time, but I can’t afford to just give up. I should attempt to act confident so that no matter what the riders who brought me in say they won’t look as credible. A Spy wouldn’t be looking a king in the eyes, they would be looking towards the shadows, averting their eyes in the light, looking for opportunities to escape or to die before they can reveal anything. I’m not a spy and if I act differently from what they might think a spy looks and acts like, then they are more likely to give me a lighter sentence. I won’t get out of this cleanly, I don’t know the customs, laws, or even the people involved.

    I stare and as if given a silent command the guard brings up “their” thoughts, it is most likely not their thoughts, but it helps to show unity and the only reason I know that they aren’t the person who tied me up is height. This person only came up to my chest area somewhere, while the person who tied me up came up to around my neck and shoulders. A simple difference, but one that… didn’t help in all now that I thought about it. It didn’t lead to any actual difference, except for the fact that they might not push as hard to have me be a spy in their tale. Hell, they might even push harder for all I know. I almost screamed out in rage at the situation I found myself in.

    I can’t exactly fight back, as far as I know, to do such would get me killed. The worst part of the situation, at least concerning my defense, is that I can’t even hear a majority of the things that the person is saying, and as their argument, for lack of a better word, is beginning to drag on taking forever to get to the point. Their speech goes on and on until it comes finally lulls into silence, one that I am going to try and take advantage of. I opened my mouth to say something, anything. But nothing comes out, because not only do I not know what the guard said, I don’t know if it would be better if I did defend myself. The fright and uncertainty grip my heart in a vice-like grip. What should I say, something about being innocent? Something wondrous? I look around the court in an attempt to find out what exactly I should say. If there is anything that I can use or build off of. I find nothing, nothing except for a strange-looking man standing near the king. It looks as if they are important in some regard, but how remains to be seen. I can’t see what it is they think, or if they are invested at all, to be honest.

    I sigh audibly and make up my mind. I’m going to attempt to bullshit my way out of this. But what do I do? I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind. “Odysseus,” I barely stop myself from stuttering as I say that, but I feel sweat begin to drip slowly down my back. Anxiety is starting to creep in like a… I stop myself and that train of thought and return to my original one.

    I quickly try to remember what it is that I remember about Odysseus, which turns out to roughly be: Nobody, Troy, and Sirens. I state the name again and louder this time, just to add a little bit of dramatic flair to it, people love drama, and it does prolong my life just a smidgen. “Odysseus, that is my name.” I pause, making myself look… not confident, but like I know something they don’t.

    I hear whispers starting to break out, wondering what it is I was doing. Was I going to mock them, was I going to do something stupid, was I going to explain what ‘my’ name had to do with anything? The answer to the last one is yes. “My name is Odysseus and I am lost, far from home, and as sad as it is may never see it again.” I quickly realize a mistake and as smooth as a sandstorm, attempt to fix it. “Your Highness.” That last bit seems to cause a minor bout of anger, possibly at the disrespect regarding their status. The guard who listed out my crimes takes a look at me, as if inspecting a piece of guano on a sidewalk before speaking up, I barely catch half of what they say and manage to parse the rest from reading their lips. “You have been accused of being a Spy, what are you going to say in your defense… Odysseus?” They seem to dislike the name I gave them, maybe they don’t believe me or have heard of the Odyssey That would be horrible for me, the absolute limit of terrible outcomes.

    Not letting the awkward silence stand for much longer after they trail off I open my mouth to dig the hole I’ve made further. “I am not the Hero Odysseus from Greek legends if you have heard of them, I am but a subject of a cruel twist of fate called birth, where I am a descendant from the great hero who made his way home after the fall of the City of Troy.” I take a moment to pray silently in my head, I hope they are buying this. Please let them buy this like an American buys things in a Black Friday sale.

    Forcing myself to smirk I speak up again, “My ancestor, for whom I am named after, managed to escape the clutches of the Sirens, foul creatures that would enthrall sailors and have them crash their boats into rocks that destroyed all ships that hit them. He outsmarted the vile wits of a band of Cyclops, lumbering giants who devoured many men who had failed to escape their grasp. He did this, while being cursed on his voyage to never return home by the Lord of the Sea and King of Storms Poseidon, managed to do so after many years.” I trail off again to give both the captive audience and the nobles in the room time to process it. At least until I figure out where to go from there. “I, Odysseus, Descendent of the Hero Odysseus, find that the accusations of my humble self being a spy outrageous. As I said before, I am lost, far from home, and as sad as it is may never see it again, as my ancestor before me. I had thought I found a lead home, something to assist me in my journey, whether it be information, food, or even a stay under the Guest Rights.” I feel a rumble coming from the crowd I am attempting to lead astray, I honestly feel the anxiety digging further and further into my heart with every word, but I can’t stop talking because if I stop, then there is a solid chance that I will fail.

    I can feel the pit I am digging verbally, getting larger and larger with my next words. “Instead however,” I pause to continue catching my breath so that I can say this next part without error, “I am dragged here, bound and degraded, to stand in this very spot, and listen to my accusers spit on the Legacy left by Odysseus-” I attempt to move from my spot when I see the king raising his hand, signaling me to stop talking. Fuck, it’s beginning to look like Christmas, and everywhere I see this going ends up with me getting coal, coal, more coal, and even more coal.
     
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  13. Joebobjoe

    Joebobjoe Man of Wealth and Taste

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    Interesting thus far, I admit I presumed you were in Arcadia during the first couple chapters with how generic the scenery was described as.
    Pretty sure this is very incorrect. It’s Calamities these days in all likelihood. :V
     
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  14. Threadmarks: A King’s Judgement
    Hyvelic

    Hyvelic Da green god Mork, da devoura uv Gork

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    The king remains silent for several seconds after the court itself falls silent. He slowly and methodologically begins to look both at me and the nobles in the room, looking for something, or possibly confirming something. I am unsure of what it is exactly what they are looking for, or if they even find it, but they close their eyes for a few seconds.

    I honestly don’t know if I can influence him, this… was not the type of king I was expecting to face when I saw him, instead of the… the normal king that one would expect to be meeting, I am instead of being judged before a king that may know what they are doing, or at least be able to pull off the wise man act convincingly. It’s strange how they are moving, as if not caring about this at all, although I guess you could say that he doesn’t care about the outcome of the impromptu trial that is going on. I mean, what would I be worth in the king's eyes, even if they couldn’t tell that my lies were just that, lies, I would still be worthless. While I heavily doubt my ability to pull off being the Greek Hero himself, I still should have attempted.

    At least then I would have more value in the king’s eyes, or rather, I would have added worth as a trophy or even an errand boy. But then again, I wouldn’t be able to keep up the lie as convincingly, if I tried to be Odysseus, I would instead become nobody. I wouldn’t become some greek hero because I said I was, I couldn’t pull off being half as cunning or quick-witted as the original was himself. I was also sure as hell don’t think I could pull off a convincing act of having suffered as much as he should have.

    Suffering is a fine thing to include in a story, it adds realism and can have a majority of people empathize with the character who is suffering. But I don’t think I could pull that off. The act of suffering is far out of my ability. Oh yes, I could act as if I lost my family, my life, everything I had before, but it wouldn’t be as authentic. For one, I don’t know if I lost all that or not. Another issue is that Odysseus would have already overcome that anguish long ago and moved on. If “he” started agonizing over it again, for seemingly no reason, then it would seem suspicious. Right?

    The good part of playing the descendant of a hero is that I can excuse some behaviors, some thoughts, and some actions. It’d be covered by the broad umbrella of “Things Odysseus Learned”, and while I can’t remember a majority of the legends surrounding him, I should be able to pull off the “Wise and very helpful” outsider who would advise their charge the best they can. At least, if this were a book. With that last thought, I feel ice flow through my body, chilling it all over.

    I was making a mistake. I was treating this like a book, or some story when the facts are pointing to that not being true at all. This wasn’t some fantasy novel with all its tropes, cliches, and plot armor. I was here, I was actually in pain and I assume bleeding at some spots. That first interaction with the guards should have taught me that lesson, and now I have risked my god damned neck telling a story I probably didn’t even need to. I shake my head trying to figure out what exactly compelled me to start treating this like a story, and me the main character.

    If anything I would be the supporting character for whom the MC uses as an example for not doing stuff or not knowing how to do simple things. A placeholder for the audience. It’s infuriating, it is. I could have already met my fate by now if the King if he’s even halfway efficient, wasn’t stuck listening to everything I had said.

    My train of thought and laments are interrupted by the King. He speaks and we are going to listen. There are no dissenting voices, there are no thoughts that lead to anyone saying or doing something to interrupt him. It’s almost unnatural how it happens at first, but fear and anxiety overtake my mind at the realization that I may now be sentenced to death. The wait is almost killing me physically.

    He speaks slowly, elegantly, and deliberately. “You, Odysseus, Descendent of the Hero that belongs to the Greeks, who is named Odysseus, find yourself within the kingdom of Callow. You, who are a foreign entity to the kingdom and may even be colluding with the Praesi to invade our beloved home. But, I do not see the mark of a coward on you, nor are you speaking incorrectly at the wrongdoings that have befallen you. Before I may finish and give you sentencing I must ask you one final question myself.” He pauses and inhales slowly as if he does not have a single care in the world. “Are you Named, a Hero of the Greek. Have you made what many consider the only choice that matters?” He finishes with the act of standing up.

    This is both the moment I have been waiting for. This moment will either break my self-made cover or entrench myself further into it. “I, the Descendent of Odysseus, can say without a single shred of doubt, that I do have a name other than Odysseus.” It’s simple, it’s sweet, it’s not going to lead to me being forced to reckon with the king directly. I am answering his question, as strange as it is… wait.

    Praesi..? That sounds strangely familiar. As if I have heard it a hundred times before. Upon thinking about it I realize where I have heard that name. The name itself comes from an online web serial called ‘Practical Guide to Evil’. I don’t seem to remember much about the country I find myself in, however. Perhaps whatever brought me here is interfering with my memories? That would be quite the twist wouldn’t it, being in a world I know a reasonable amount about, but not being able to recall any of the information that I want as I want it regarding the series itself.

    It’s funny in a twisted way. I was sent into a world I know something but I lack the information to do anything. I don’t know enough about where I am let alone what I can do to change things for the better. Besides, do I even want to change things if I do think of a way? If I remember correctly, the main character had this in hand, there wasn’t anything that I could do to change anything that I remember happening.

    Which is admittedly very little if you get down to it. I don’t even remember the character’s name, nor do I remember a fraction of what happens, sadly. So how can I change something that has yet to happen, that I don’t know about in any sense of the situation? The answer is simple, I don’t. I don’t try to change things, hell, I barely remember that Gods are a thing, but I don’t remember how at all that’s relevant besides ‘they exist here, that’s all’. Do they do things? Do they know what’s going to happen? What are their goals? I don’t know, and because I don’t know if I can do anything at all without stepping on the toes of a god. I don’t even know what it is they can do, so if I do accidentally stepped on the toes of a god, what are they going to do? Smite me? Curse me? Worse? It’s hard to tell at this point.

    The king speaks again, cutting into my inner monologuing thoughts. “I, the Good King of Callow then invite you, child of the Hero you call Odysseus, to stay until you can return to your home.” What. What? No seriously, what in the hell? Why am I not being executed? Why am I not being imprisoned? Why are they inviting me to stay as a guest after I’m being accused as a spy?! Crusader Kings II never prepared me for this, oh god, do I thank him? Dumb question, of course, I thank him, the better question to ask is how do I think him? I quickly blurb something out, probably in all likeliness breaking several social rules that everyone would follow. But not me, since I’m not going to die. Holy shit does that feeling in my chest suddenly seem lighter. Is… is this a miracle? Probably not but it isn’t a bad idea to thank someone.

    I should start by thanking the king. “I thank you for your words and offer, your highness.” I nod and while I do not bow, I do nod my head in acceptance. What am I going to do now? What is there to do now rather? I don’t know, I could probably ask but… it doesn’t exactly look good if I do. At least- “The guard currently ensuring that you are not a threat to show you to your new room for the duration of your stay.” Well, that solved that problem.

    After that, I am pulled off to the side and cut free. I look at the guard trying to see if I can tell anything about them but it isn’t easy at all to do so. They don’t say anything as we move onward and by the time we get to the new room, it’s too late to ask because of how awkward I feel it would be to start talking to them.

    The room I am led too doesn’t seem to be a private one, but more of a public room, so maybe the servants quarters is where this is it exactly? I shrug at the knowledge and start to approach the bed. Before I lay down I turn around to look at the guard, I see them standing there making sure I do… something. “Thank you for leading me here,” I say towards them. I sit down on the bed and go over the events of today, it’s only been… probably not even a day and it’s been going on for quite a long time. How strange. I take a moment to lay down on the bed, it’s rough but it’s… something. I lay down and while I don’t pass out instantly, I do however fall asleep far more quickly than I would normally do if I tried to fall asleep in a new place. Sleep has rarely felt this good.

    XXXXXX
    AN: Sorry for how late this is, Going to get another one up tonight hopefully as well. I also will not be posting tomorrow because of DnD, so I'll likely attempt to get two chapters out Saturday, or if I'm really unlucky, Monday.
     
    Last edited: Nov 8, 2019 at 4:31 PM
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  15. Threadmarks: A Failed Excursion
    Hyvelic

    Hyvelic Da green god Mork, da devoura uv Gork

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    When I wake up, the room I find myself in is no different than when I entered it the first time. It’s empty, or at least it looks empty. That means the Servants are likely working, or the servants quarters idea I had isn’t true at all and this place is in actuality something different. I wouldn’t know what it is, but it wouldn’t be something I know, that’s for sure. It would be interesting to see what the room looks like when the servants are just waking up. Pushing myself up I begin to clench my fists as the pain from my injuries flashes across my body. It’s… an interesting experience feeling a great deal of aching, sores, and just general fuckery that I am barely able to stop from screaming.

    Hell, I think some screaming does escape, if just barely. How was I okay with this earlier, how the hell did I not fall over and die from shock?! There is very little reason for the pain to suddenly kick in just as I wake up, why not back when I was beginning to fall asleep? I was calm, or rather as calm as I could get in the situation and I was more tired than in pain. It’s a miracle that I’m alive if the pain I’m feeling is saying anything.

    I fall back down onto the bed to rest for a minute before trying again. This time I have more success than I had before. There wasn’t… less pain I want to say, but there is a good chance that the pain itself was dulled somehow through some means that I don’t know. That would be a troubling outcome, in the end, if I could turn off pain or at least dull it and forget how to turn it off again, that would probably lead to my horrible death. Horrible, painful, bloody death.

    Now if I assume that the pain doesn’t go away completely and it works the way I think it does, the ability only dulls the pain to a certain extent, so I probably won’t die in agony but I would still feel a fraction or percentage of the pain inflicted. That’s good, yes, I can live with that more than anything.

    I let out a sigh and feel my body shake as I let it out. I should probably get myself checked out, but I don’t actually know how or what it is that I am suffering from exactly, and I don’t know the state of the medical field in the country, for all I know they'll cut me open and start removing my kidneys because they aren’t healthy enough.

    They then forget about the kidneys or rather, the need of having at least one and stitch me up dead. I’d be listed as a tragic accident and nothing of value, to them, would be lost. So if I can’t see whatever passes for a doctor here, then there must be… something or someone I can talk to so that I can deal with whatever is wrong or at least start to. I try to wrack my brains for a clue on who to find. They should be somewhat adept in medicine, at least to the point of not killing mine in a bid for advancement or something as asinine. That’s when I am hit with a memory and a thought. The memory is when the king was giving me his sentence, or rather his judgment, before he said anything he, or someone else, mentioned a Wizard. In all actuality, they are probably some kind of alchemist or something similar to that vein. Now I still doubt their ability to heal me in my entirety, but they should be able to assist me with not dying in my sleep because I bleed too much on the inside, or some infection dug into my body and refused to leave.

    I struggle to get up again, but I do manage it after a few more attempts. I think I am weaker than I thought I was, that doesn’t bode well for my general ability to survive in the world I find myself in. I… might want to consider taking lessons or training while I can, it might just save my life one day. I chuckle at the thought, the people who tied me up and have nearly killed me multiple times inadvertently saving my life would be pretty funny.

    The reminder that I almost died sends chills down my spine and ice through my veins. How close was I really to dying on the orders of the king, because of the accusations of the riders who managed to find me. Another huge question is why the king would bother sparing me in the first place, it doesn’t make sense. ‘Descendent’ of a hero or not, they should be wary or outright hostile still. Something isn’t adding up and I honestly am concerned about why. Before I can get into another existential debate with myself and my purpose here I begin my trek to… somewhere. I honestly don’t know where I’m going, perhaps I should go find a servant to help me find the Wizard?

    That sounds reasonable, more than reasonable in fact. Now, the question is where I would find a servant to help me, I could wander around aimlessly but that’s… counter-productive, I think. If I wanted to walk around looking for someone or something then I wouldn’t exactly need to find a servant, instead, I would just try looking for the wizard himself. Then again, it might be a good idea to wander around aimlessly and get lost when I forget where I came from or how to get here while attempting to acquaint myself with the… castle? Or would this place be a palace since the king lives here? These are important questions to ask when one is stuck in a fictional world. Well, could this place be considered fictional anymore? I ask myself that as I open the door leading to the world outside of the servants quarters.

    Limping slowly around the structure I take the time to both appreciate the way everything looks and how I am going to best get back to the room I found myself sleeping in for the time being. I pause and turn back. I can’t do this, I risked my neck enough yesterday, and getting caught… snooping around may very well be the straw that breaks the camel's back. It’s not good if I don’t find someone, but now that I think about it, someone finding me is even worse. What was I thinking? I slowly try to make my way back to the room I woke up in, hoping that nobody noticed that I was missing from the room. If they did then I might be able to pull off a miracle, or just convince them that they somehow just missed me in one way or another.

    I could also tell the truth but I seriously doubt anyone will care enough about that and might even focus their attention on the part that looks worse for me in the long run. I couldn’t allow that, so with a surge of motivation, I begin to limp back to the room more than twice as fast as I was going originally when I was exploring after I woke up.

    Please let there not be anyone who could notice my missing figure or people who don’t care enough about me to overlook what I was doing before I returned to the room. Even if everything turns out for the better and I am not in danger of getting murdered or executed someone should eventually come to me, and until they do I could try to get some extra sleep, that would honestly sounds nice right about now considering I was more dead on my feet than resting after exhausting myself. I think I’ll indeed take a nap while I wait.
     
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  16. Threadmarks: Becoming a Public Servant
    Hyvelic

    Hyvelic Da green god Mork, da devoura uv Gork

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    There wasn’t a long wait once I got back to the room. Although, there was an issue I noticed that came up. I was still wearing the clothes that I had been dragged before the king. There was a great deal of wear and tear in regards to them, my pants had several rips and the less said about my shirt the better. It’s a general mess and I realize how much worse my impression must have been for the king, which is the strangest part in my opinion. If I made a bad impression, one as bad as I know I did, then why did the king send me here? Why am I not being imprisoned or executed or some other terrible fate? The sound of someone aheming interrupts my increasingly paranoid thoughts.

    I turn to see a man dressed in a tunic or some kind of jacket, it doesn’t look anything like I’ve been told people wear in a feudal society, as servants at least, and the surprising part is how… foreign it looks to me. It’s not like the butler looks that we look at in regards to how people seem to regard medieval society nowadays, but it takes on a simpler look that shows that they are a servant, but not a poorly treated one. The servant, because who else could it be really, is giving we a scorn filled look. It’s as if they know that I don’t belong here, that I should just be executed and be done with it. “Are you the new servant? How intolerable, why are you wearing those rags? Where is your uniform? Do you intend to disgrace the Good King by showing your disgraceful appearance to the nobles, heroes, and other servants? To draw ridicule at how poorly the King must treat his servants? Disgusting. You should be ashamed of yourself. Get a new uniform now if you must, but I refuse to let you show yourself to the rest of the palace in those… scraps of clothes.” Before I can reply or get a word in edgewise the servant moves towards a nearby wardrobe and grabs several articles of clothing that are nearby then forced into my hands.

    Before my protests can be vocalized the servant speaks up, interrupting me. “Put these on now. I will be waiting outside for you to finish up. You better attempt to look respectable, otherwise I will have to have you punished severely. You don’t represent yourself as a servant. You are representing the king and the prince, and should you make a mistake or callously disregard the opportunity you have been given and making a mockery of said opportunity insulting the ones who allowed you to have it in the first place? You will be punished, and punished severely at that.” He looks angrier as he finishes speaking again, the look in his eye has only intensified as the words flew off his tongue. He makes his way to the door and when he finishes speaking he closes the door, not quite slamming it but the intent was there.

    I quickly fumbled with the clothing, the coarse fabric on my skin surprising me. I don’t think I've ever really seen clothing like this, at least in the style it’s in. It’s… an interesting getup, in the sense that it won’t be worse than what I already had on me. Although, that was considering the clothes being worn currently rags, so it’s not as much as a step up from where I found myself right now. It could be worse, but not by far, not at all. The clothes themselves were just pants and a shirt that was plain in almost every sense of the word. The only thing that can be said about them is that they weren’t some bog-standard dress of suit that could be considered a person’s “Sunday Best” or what they’d wear to an interview.

    After changing my clothes I take a quick minute to make sure that I look presentable. I can’t exactly look in a mirror to see how the clothing looked on me except to tell that they were reasonably larger than I was. I sigh and am uncertain of what exactly it was that the man expected from me. Maybe they just made a mistake and somehow missed the spectacle that was yesterday or didn’t put any stock into the rumors? Either way he was waiting outside ‘tsks’ at me and begins to talk at me again, ignoring the fact that I was about to say something. “Good, you may barely look presentable, but it is a step up from the literal rags you were wearing before. I’m going to give you a brief tour and you are going to listen to what I say and when we get to your spot you are going to work. Come.” He finishes with a harsh tone as he turns and walks off. I begin to follow him if only to learn the lay of the land so to speak. They lead me around showing me a few of the side rooms that the servants had the job of keeping in top shapes such as the Kitchen, laundry, and restrooms for an example. The bathrooms would be the bane of my existence, they were a restroom in name only, with only a stone throne to signify what it was exactly.

    Still confused and befuddled on what it is that is going on, or if the tour could be taken at face value and the servant leading me around just didn’t know I wasn’t a servant, things are moving along slowly and mind-numbingly at that, at least until we come into a hallway that has another servant in it. This servant is dressed like I am, the only difference is the fact that he looks like he belongs in it, or rather that they look like a servant who can do their job.

    They are wearing the same clothes that I am except theirs appears to fit them far better than the clothes I was given did. They spot my guide first and smile at their approach, “Ah! Mister William! How are you doing today?” Their cheery tone is enough to smile at my guide.

    “I am doing quite fine Henry, I am guiding the new incompetent servant around and telling them what they are supposed to be doing.” the newly dubbed William replies, the smile on their face doesn’t go away as they grab their chin, thinking about something. “Henry, I am going to leave the idiot here with you to learn how to do their job properly.” A smile appears on Henry’s face at that.

    “Sure thing Mister William. It can get a bit boring around here without something to focus on, so this should help. I’ll make sure he can do everything correctly before the day is up.” Henry’s voice fills my stomach with dread, this isn’t going to end well for me… is it?
     
    Last edited: Nov 12, 2019 at 5:20 AM
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