Crazy King

A Weary Conviction

I like to pride myself on being a smart gnome. Well, no, that’s the king of understatements. I like to pride myself on being a genius gnome. To that end, I’m always impressed when someone is able to conjure up an idea that had not occurred to me. Generally I just feel angry and envious but this time around was different. Werevolt. The big lummox has a head on his shoulders after all, at least when he’s pressed. He may have dropped me down a pit like a moron but now in the eleventh hour he comes through and concocts a plan to save Brian’s father and his own slave lovers life, the Foe’s supposed ultimatum be damned. Perhaps that dragon blood is starting to do some good and getting the juices flowing upstairs as well as through those rippling muscles of his.

It will take all of my teleportation magic and it depends on that unreliable spell not backfiring but if we can pull it all off we should be able to save two lives instead of just one. I know that should be the big selling point on this whole endeavour. Perusing Pelor’s holy book, having Brian back, I’m beginning to more fully understand the utility of the whole righteous thing. It’s especially true when you are going against the biggest of all bastards, the Foe. Despite that, the big perk in my mind to pulling off this plan is not saving lives but giving a big towering middle finger to the bastard who thinks he can control us. I always knew magic was the solution to our problems and I’m vindicated. We can disrupt the Foe’s plans and keep Brian and Werevolt happy. It sounds like a win-win to me.

I’m beginning to feel tired. I feel like each day that passes is a few decades off my life. The New Year is just around the corner and we still have to pull of this crazy teleportation plan, rush into Helm’s Grave, and hope that it is the end point. Then we have to hope we can beat whatever the hell the Foe actually is and come out of this alive and sane. I want to have faith in Pelor that he will deliver us through all this. Having that kind of faith in Boccob is pretty pointless since he doesn’t give a damn either way, but Pelor has shown he’s a different sort. He brought Brian back as a saint which, as divine decisions goes, is about as sound as any idea I’ve heard before or since. I’m afraid to place my faith in that way though. I need all my energy driving toward my magic, toward my reasoning. I need every resource at the ready to pour into this coming confrontation.

There have been plenty of times in the past months that I’ve worried if I would live. The Zern, the crypt, even way back in the forest. Yet I’ve never felt this heavy dread before. I didn’t understand it at first but Timbertope saw to the heart of the matter. This death means something more than my own. It means the endangerment of Karsis. The endangerment of the world. It means Ypes will die. It means Jimpy will be forced to flee or go down in a blaze of glory (again). It means that everything that myself and the Big Guy have worked for were ultimately for nothing. I’m not used to feeling that kind of responsibility on my shoulders. Not in this way. The thought wearies me but all I can do is stand strong and see this to the end.

I’ll kill the Foe or I will die trying. It is odd to accept that conviction.



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