Bazil gawped uneaily as he realized he was naked,
perched atop a flagpole, and an angry mob wanted his blood. Not an everyday
occurrence, mind you.
Now how in the Abyss am I gonna get out of THIS
one? Bazil thought.
"Go get the axe Bjern!" One of the beefcakes down
below yelled hoarsely. The flagpole chose just that moment to sway
heavily, bringing Bazil's stomach into his throat. Gulping, he scanned
a large beefcake running back to the crowd, carrying a wicked axe, and
panting heavily.
"Thats it...now its personal, bard" he muttered.
Grunting, Baz shifted his weight to the left, causing
the pole to swing lurchingly to that side, then at the far side of the
arc, shifted to the right. Doing this a few times, and ignoring the angry
shouts of the disgusted villagers, Bazil finally came close enough to a
handy rooftop to burn through his binding ropes and leap off the pole and
onto the loose shingles. Thank all the gods for some quick moves.
"Arg! Ey! 'E be gittin away!" one of the musclebound
brutes below hollered.
Closing his eyes briefly, Baz exerted a wisp of
arcane force and conjured simple clothes around his mighty-thewed body.
"Quite to the contrary, lads." he said to those
below... "I'm not going anywhere just yet"
His eyes flared bright red for a moment, then, in
a flash of light and a loud BAMPF!!, the clothes of the villagers disappeared.
Consumed with unrelentless anal-retentiveness and a horrible anger towards
nudity, they fell upon each other and fought furiously till all lay beat
senseless upon the square, except of course the ladies, who now came out
to titter and giggle at the menfolk.
"Come come now old boy," Bazil said out loud, knowing
that somehow the bard could hear him. "Surely you can do better than THAT"
The young mage realized that this was getting them
nowhere. The mysterious figure that had so handily dealt with his goats
had yet to make an move against him, yet somehow he knew no fight against
the Goat-Killer would be easy...
And as for the bard...well...Bazil winced as he
pulled a massive splinter out of his wounded buttocks region and grumbled
at the small scratch to his leg...the bard was going to have an unpleasant
after life. Burning forever CAN'T feel good.
I need something to put an end to this little charade...hmm...but
what? He thought. Suddenly his eyes filled with mirth, and he grinned
evilly. What he had in mind would surely be unstoppable, a juggernaut of
pure fury and destruction, a veritable maelstrom of death...now...if he
could only convince her...
Teleporting outside the village and setting off, he grinned widely.
"Let the bard and the Goat-Killer do as they will,
for it shall make no difference..."