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Episode 106: Six Little Words

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that which must be given, done, or undergone in order to obtain a thing

Late night espionage. And from the looks of things it was off to a good start as I start my evening with Eve of KOS.


I add this mighty Boomstick to my collection of unwanted, unloved trinkets of the exceptionally insurance deficient! The world is full of them and I take it upon myself to meet them in battle and on the field! (With unnecessary verabage in episode form if necessary!)

The night was going good, but my thirst had not yet been quenched.

I'm on the outskirts of Britain, but I dare not set foot inside. Instead I travel to the north along the miner's wall, hike up the hidden goat path, and find myself face-to-face with the stench filled, non-sexual invangination on the rock's face -- more commonly known to lesser men as the Entrance to Despise.

I creep along it's non-reproductive tracks with nothing but it's muccusy goo on my boots and up my nose. All is well until a man not invited to the party ruins my intercourse deficient adventure.

Charles of Slap!

A fencer. A farmer? With an uninsured Flesh Ripper no less! But how -- OH HOW -- to get it out of his hands? The gods have taken upon themselves to strip me of my war fork's disarm abilities (without enough skill in Tactics).

He would flinch before I did. He would grow tired in the night as I grew stronger. And he may even have more weapons stuffed away in his pack. I know it to be true. I can see it in his insurance hate filled eyes.

A pitchfork. A war fork. And... And...

A short spear!

I look again into his pack.

No gold, no bag of sending, and no translocation powder.


The last time I was here, a lone vampire was here collecting Books of Truth. With the Age of Truth long gone, could he actually be training his fencing skill?

This one baffles me. This one hands me fried chicken when I ordered steak. I'm on tilt and he knows it. One thing was for certain, whatever I did I was going to have to handle it with care.

I look again at the Flesh Ripper he wields.

Durability 1 just moments ago and now durability zero. Oh glorious days! A perfect ending to a perfect night. He would soon recieve a message notifying him about his inability to keep his weapons in working order.

And just like that...

Game time.

I'm already in ferret form and I've had success with my techniques from the past. I use my very tiny ferret body to hide amonst the very huge and hulking ogres that fall right and left at his side.

I wait and watch. I spy and act.

(One down and one to go.)

With his short spear in hand and not in danger of lacking durability, getting this one out of his hands would be trickier. I would have to come up with something clever. Yeah, that's it... a clever ploy and get him to play along with my false words as I steal the spear right from under his--

--or he could switch weapons by his own free will.

(That works too.)

He moves to the east and I follow.


Two 4 stone weapons and still I remain blue. He doesn't suspect a thing, he doesn't see a thing, but his pack does feel a little lighter. Then the "Backpack Item Shuffle" begins. He moves his talisman from left to right and he shoves his Bandages to the side to get a better view... but he's much too late.

"I leave you now Charles of Slap! I leave you with your ogres!" I chant over and over all the way back to Luna Bank.

And then something odd. There I am in the bank and there he is waltzing in. He stops at the side along the bank wall. I reveal myself out of hiding and position myself in plain site with his own Flesh Ripper in hand.

He spots me.

He approaches me.

Charles: lol. Yeah right.

And then he says those magic words:

*cracks knuckles*

Like a kid in a candy store, my mind wanders and dances and sings gay songs.

Chad Sexington: How much are you offering?
Charles: 30k
Chad Sexington: Pah!
Charles: How much then?
Chad Sexington: 30k for the dagger only.
Charles: 40k

This was getting no where. Then something happens.

An idea.


Chad Sexington: It's a nice spear.

*shows off nice spear*

Then he does the unthinkable and insults me and tries to get away with less:

Little did he know that it wasn't about the gold. It wasn't even about the words. I required a small piece of his soul. I required his undying, metaphorical, non-sexual love. That was the price he must pay.

Chad Sexington: I'll be reasonable. No gold, just the words.
Chad Sexington: And it's yours.
Charles: Why do we have to be childish?
Charles: You did a good job getting them and I'm willing to pay.
Charles: My fault.
Charles: 40k for a walk in Despise.

And then he does what no one should ever do. He plays the "thief card."

Charles: I have played a thief.
Charles: I like thieves.

My eyes roll to the back of my head as I lose all interest in this one.

I keep my trinkets, but I only hold them until he wants them back. All it'll take are six little words...

Small price.

"I'm not a child and I won't say silly shat."

(Your loss.)

'Til next time!

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