ff.net sucks. I couldn't load my story for days, still they give me distractions and an outlet, so I'll cover them: I don't own the characters or the basic plot, that's Tom Smith, fastest filker and true pundit (tomsmithonline.com for details). Tolkien owns the idea of the characters, except, of course, for Gordon Dickson's Dorsai Irregulars. They belong to anyone with the money to pay them.
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As Bristol had thought, Biff was soon awake and more than a little angry, but with the help of a well stocked bar downstairs, he was soon a little less angry and a little more pissed. It's amazing how much a dwarf and a wizard have in common after a little drinking. He learned early on in his drinking career that there was a distinct difference between drunks and social drinkers. Social drinkers had real people to talk to, and ranting to the wall, chair, mirror, glass, bartender, and pink oliphaunts, while entertaining to all, was reserved for drunks. He found social drinking equally intoxicating, and twice as entertaining. He told Bristol so.
"Well, thank you Wizard, though I doubt I'm half as much fun as pink oliphaunts, even with their weird fears of Halflings," Bristol laughed.
Biff had to grin, "Ah, you've met them too. Well, I'd have to say your company is welcomed far more than most."
"But not as welcome as some company, unless I miss my guess."
Biff sobered, as much as was possible, and sighed. "I guess I don't hide it well, huh?"
"No boy, but I bet you haven't had much practice," Bristol said, draining his cup. Biff snorted his agreement. "Look, for all I know you're eons older then me, but Biff, I like you, and I want you to know, well, I think you can do better."
Biff almost choked on his drink, "What? Who are you, the father? Are you going to ask my intentions? Look, Bristol, I am older than you will ever know, and one thing you learn, you enjoy people while you have them. Do I love Delphine? I don't know. I think she's gorgeous, smart, and I'm incredibly attracted. As my bruised head can attest, she can take care of herself, which, oddly enough, attracts me more, but I'm not going to pledge my never ending love to her." Bristol gave him a look. "Well, not today." The look continued. "Well, not sober."
"Now how would you remember what sober felt like?" Bristol roared. Biff just grinned and refilled both their glasses. "Well I'm glad to hear it, I was afraid you were going to be like that elf; a dog following the tail."
Biff almost spit his drink out, "No, no. I assure you, my presence here is entirely not of my doing." He frowned at the sentence structure, "At least, I think that's right."
"I'm not so sure," the doubtful Bristol started to mentally diagram.
"Have another drink, it will sound better," Biff assured him. Bristol took his advice and found it to be completely true. "Anyway, Bristol my friend, I'm here because of the machinations of an elf and a beautiful piece of leather with a girl in it. You?"
"Same old, same old. Came for the glory, stayed for the gold."
"So how much gold is in this venture, I mean, no offense to the decorator, but this place isn't exactly swimming in gold. How could they have a fee worth putting up with the fighting, the bloodshed, and the strange screams in the woods? And then there are those things that aren't Varicose."
"Don't you get it wizard, I'm not here for the fee; I'm here for the spoils. The deal is fair share of the horde and possession of the mountain."
"Really. Varicose. An elf. Long time
hater of dwarves, preserver of nature, perverser of, well, everything. He
agreed to let you do this?"
"More than that, he convinced
the girl to let me come legitimately, rather than trailing them."
"Well, will wonders ever cease? I'd seem plenty of crazy elves, just never thought I'd see a demented one. Well, my friend, I hope you weren't counting on such a great share, because it's about to get a little smaller."
~@~
Eventually Varicose the Vain caught up with Delphine the Fed-up and they went to the common room to find Biff the Pissed.
"Wizard Biff, I see you are awake," Varicose sneered at the glass in his hand "and you have your appetite back I see. Please, don't let us interrupt; continue to drink your lunch."
"Why thank you, Sir Elf. Did you sleep well last night? I'd offer you a drink, but I'm sure your wrists are too sore to pick up the glass" Biff shot back with feigned sympathy.
"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean, wizard?" Varicose asked his patience not so much thin, as anorexic.
"Forget it, Jerk. Off subject." Bristol spit his drink out. "Anyway, since I've gotten this far I've decided to help you, you obviously need it."
"Good." Delphine ordered herself a drink and sat down, tankard in hand, and gave a map to Biff. "We need a plan." She took a long pull, "Varicose, sit." She ordered.
"To start does anyone have any good plans?" Biff looked around the table.
"Well, we know what doesn't work: poison, thrown blades, nor bows and arrows. Either together or separately" Bristol said, looking at Varicose.
"Really," Biff looked at Varicose. "My goodness, Varicose, didn't we try tying someone tied to a stake? No? I would have thought you were the master of baiting." That was it for Bristol, even Delphine let out a snort at that one. Varicose, on the other hand, was less than thrilled. He started to reach for his hand ax, and action which stopped all laughter from the two seasoned warriors at the table, before the ax blade had cleared its' case Varicose found him facing two long blades and a proper dwarvian ax.
"All right, that is certainly enough, now lets all put away our sharpened objects," Delphine said with deadly calm, "That includes wit, Biff," she added in answer to Varicose's raised chin and toddler eyes. "Now, seriously, we need to plan this thing. I have an idea, but it all depends on our magician friend here."
"Fine, I'll do what I can, but I want it clear that I expect full compensation from this endeavor." Biff said, with a voice of steel and an eye even heavier. "No, not her, you moron," Biff said as Delphine stiffened and Varicose, once again, went for his ax. "I want my fair share." For reasons unknown to the rest of them-but fully understood by those privy to the thoughts of an elf-this statement caused Varicose to relax completely.
It worked! Varicose thought to all the voices in his head, and himself as an after-thought. And it had, there was a look that passed over Delphine's face so fast it would have been check for steroids. The look was of nothing else but pure disappointment. The elf was not the only one who caught the look, proving irrefutably that the eye is quicker than the look.
Dissappointment? Biff thought as he glimpsed at Delphine's reaction. Is that to the loss of gold or me? For the merest moment Biff thought of giving up the mission and sweeping Delphine away, Varicose can give her that, and besides, what am I? Him? No, I won't prove Bristol right.
Oh, goodness. Delphine thought as images of Biff went through her head. Most of these images would not have held up the maiden image for very long and a few of them would have required a very, let's say evocative, writer to describe. She suddenly thought of none of those scenarios coming true and a look of disappointment crossed her face. Wait a tick, what the hell am I? What the bloody Vain wants? She shook the visions off. I hate when estrogen hits out of no where.
Bristol sat at the table that had suddenly become very silent and looked at his glassy-eyed comrades. Bristol just gave a sigh and signaled for the barkeep to send over another round. He wasn't really quite sure what had happened, but he was sure that sooner or later they would come out of it and business would commence. If there was one thing about Bristol it was that he was optimistic about lucidity.
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I love 'lucid'.
Diolch and da boch chi!
