[Poor Grallus, the Rogue – 7]

“Uuuugggghhh,” the big man grunts as he struggles to pull purple colored floppy coverings over his worn leather boots. “Why do we have ta wahr these, Dreg?”

The shorter man next to him already has the draping on but is now carefully fiddling with the fasteners up near his neck. The rubbery material covers most of his body from the shoulders down. “Bexter, you really are stupider than a tetched beet. I know you musta heard about him too. With all that electricity in there we wouldn’t last two seconds,” he says pointing down the stone corridor to a heavy wooden door. Down the hall is a broken bench across from the door slightly adjacent from two heavily armed guards wielding long-swords and large shields both adorned in full chain-mail armor. At a quick glance Dreg sees that the guard’s armor and swords are also the same odd purple color as the coverings they have been putting on.

Looking at each other, both with apprehension in their eyes, Dreg and Bexter each take a deep breath and do their best to waddle down to the guards in their squeaking garb. “You think he’s mad?” Bexter asks sheepishly. “Of course he’s mad, you moron, he’s always mad,” Dreg says rolling his eyes.

Without moving the guard states matter-of-factually, “Remove all of your metal weapons and place them on the bench.” Bexter and Dreg can’t help showing hesitation at the idea of being unarmed. “It is for your own safety,” the guard again states without making eye-contact.

As if on cue an abrupt lightning crack is heard from behind the door causing both Dreg and Bexter to jump. They don’t notice the guard’s slight smile. “We better do it huh Dreg?” Dreg’s only answer was to rapidly pull out a menagerie of weapons one-by-one and toss them on the ground near the bench without ceremony. Slowly Bexter follows suit, swallowing hard, “So you never met the boss huh Dreg?” Standing as tall as he can given his stocky frame, smoothing out the coverings over his chest he answers, “Nope, but there’s a first time for everything. This is a good thing, yeah, so uh try to look quick-witted.”

The guard turns and pushes open the door with a purple gloved hand. The room is completely dark, making even the overall size indeterminable. Bexter can’t help but nervously whisper, “I ain’t never met him too.” Stepping forward in the open doorway Dreg wrinkles his brow looking up at Bexter, “Let me do the talking huh?”

Again as if on cue the room is suddenly lit with flashes of blue-white lightning, cutting through the darkness with crackles of electricity. The door slams shut hard behind them. Dreg and Bexter reflexively push toward each other automatically gripping each other in fear as their faces light up. Instantly all the moisture is sucked from the air and the room fills with a sharp sulfur scent. A booming but slightly crazed voice bounces off the now slightly visible smooth stone walls, “Yes, yes, YES why don’t YOU do the talking, and explain to ME where my friend GRALLUS IS!”

[436] Words : Control Issues