The Liar's Tale - Chapter Two
Foreword
Back for another instalment of the Dungeons and Dragons inspired serial/ I suggest, if you haven’t read the first, that you go ahead and do that.
Again, I will shout out the origins of this serial. I’ve been writing quite a bit over the last 7 years for a friend’s local magazine. It’s called the Campaigner, created by Matthew Lee, and its all about the hobby of tabletop gaming, from the game’s themselves to the miniatures often used in the games. It’s quite fun and very informative, so if you’re interested in that kind of thing, I highly suggest you give it a gander.
thecampaignermagazine.com
Pop that in your search bar and you’ll see his sight.
I’ll also remind that I’m using various world-building elements from the Dungeons and Dragons universe, specifically the 3.5 edition of the game, for those who like knowing that sort of thing. If you don’t know anything about these settings, I am interested to know if my story here holds up. Anything confusing you? Enough to take you out of the story and not care to read anymore? Awesome! let me know in comments here or anywhere else you hang around on the interslice. This type of feedback is what writers thrive on.
Hold it back, and you’ll be robbing me of the chance to learn some lesson or another to improve my craft.
And also, in this case, It’ll mean I can clarify things for you (only where completely necessary - because really, a piece of writing should be able to stand up on its own, lest it fail in its primary purpose… which is to communicate something to the reader via some strange form of runic telepathy, or something.)
Finally, as this is me publishing these chapters from the magazine to my website, I am still including the little “author’s comments” section that is appropriate to the magazine format. I’m not sure how well they work on my website. I’m interested to hear if you enjoy the little section at the end of the chapter, or whether I should remove these bits and just keep it to the story itself (I know that you, Mr Peb, like them more than the story itself). But at the end of it all, this little series is as much about sharing my love of role-play games, and capturing that spirit, as it is about telling a tale.
So maybe I’ll just keep them in anyway.
Enough blathering, dude. Enjoy the second chapter of the Liar’s Tale.
The Liar’s Tale - Chapter Two
Kord’s Holy Communion
Lute breathed in the sweet aroma of roasting meat that permeated the campsite and felt his stomach grumble painfully. Discomfort was just another enemy to best, and the priest of Kord felt he needed a victory this night.
“I suggest we run,” said Tanaki. The assassin casually sliced a piece of dear meat from the spit and took a bite.
“Then run, halfling,” Kaag said, biting a chunk from the shank in his hand. He snorted. “Too afraid to face consequences.”
“We’re in this mess ‘cos of you, goliath!” Tanaki snapped back. “If you had listened to Rin’s plan in the first place…”
“To deliver the egg like cowards? No dragon would respect such behaviour.” Kaag drummed his massive chest with an equally massive fist. “It was a show of strength to pick it up and bring it to her personally.”
Lute watched the goliath and shook his head. Such behaviour was not befitting a champion of their god. His stomach grumbled louder.
“It was a show of arrogance and stupidity,” Tanaki said. “And now we are dead.”
“I do not fear death,” Kaag said, missing the blatant insult. “I will pin it down and make it submit to me.” He turned to Lute, the disgust plain on his tattooed face. “And what of you, orc? You call yourself a priest of Kord, and yet you would condone such craven actions?”
Lute bit back his anger. He had been willing to deliver a message to the dragon alone. “We had a plan to guard it until her arrival. It was the arrogance of touching it that Rin warned us against.”
Kaag looked over at the elf. “You take the side of a liar and a diplomat.” He threw his shank –still with meat on the bone – into the fire. “Compromise is just another word for weakness.”
Lute flicked his trial vestments to one side and stood up, glaring at the goliath. Such arrogance and vulgarity went against everything he believed in. It went against everything their holy book, “The Revelation of Champions,” taught. It went against the very example the Brawler God himself set!
How could this brute be the Chosen of Kord?
Rin placed a hand on Lute’s shoulder. “I can wear that for now, if it allows us to move this discussion forward.”
Lute frowned at the elf. Grudgingly, he agreed to Rin’s plea – there certainly were important matters to discuss. He took a breath and sat back down.
Infuriatingly, Kaag smirked at Lute, then ripped a fresh shank from the spit.
“I, for one, cannot run,” Rin said to the group. “I made a deal with the dragon, and green-scales are not easily cheated out of their deals. If I cannot think of a way to outsmart her before this is over, I will honour my deal. She will let the rest of you go.”
“If we bring her the succubus’s head,” Tanaki pointed out. “Which is a big distraction. You know, from our actual mission.”
That mission was to track down a disturbingly large number of kidnapped children – their scout, Avaelin, was currently out in the wilds searching for any traces of their abduction.
“Perhaps,” said Rin, scratching his nose. “But succubi are not the forgiving type. I suspect the seductive devil will pay us a visit in time, so we need not go out of our way to hunt her.” The elf stared thoughtfully into the fire. “Attempting to steal a dragon’s egg is utter madness, especially for such a cunning creature as a succubus. There is so much to consider here.”
Kaag thumped his fist against the log he sat on. “There is nothing to consider! We go get children, and march them back home through this forest. And if that big, green lizard nags us, we tell her we’ll deal with the succubus later!”
“It’s not that simple,” Lute said. “If we lead those kids back through the forest without the succubus, the dragon may just claim them instead.”
“Then we lead them back down another path.”
“There is no other path back!”
Kaag scoffed at Lute, then took a large bite of his fresh shank. With mouth full he said, “what do you suggest then, priest? That we pray for guidance, like powerless runts? You have been lost in your scriptures for too long. Kord does not respect contemplation. He respects power.”
“You know nothing of Kord’s teachings, to say such things,” Lute growled, standing up again. “The Revelation of Champions recognises strength of mind…”
“I am the Champion of Kord!” Kaag roared, rising up to meet Lute. “He has blessed me! You are but a squire, charged to serve me, squirming to appease our god.”
The words were like a hammer blow to Lute’s already grumbling stomach. The tumultuous hunger in him ignited as a result, transforming into a storm of righteous, growling anger – to a priest of Kord, such anger was like meditation. He searched for the lesson in it, all the while glaring at the goliath who had unleashed the storm within him.
“It’s time you put away your writings and see the true example of Kord standing right in front of you,” Kaag said, stepping closer. He brandished his deer shank before Lute like a club. “I am the new way of our God.”
And then, looking upon the arrogant behemoth before him, Lute had a revelation. Brutes like Kaag, by their very nature, would always be drawn to the Brawler God. And those who revered strength but lacked maturity were destined to become cruel, unless a firm hand intervened to guide them. This goliath, Lute now understood, was the very epitome of Kord’s congregation.
Learning to guide such brutes wasn’t just a burden Lute had to carry, it was his sacred duty.
Lute’s stomach growled, as if agreeing with the revelation. He waited patiently for it to settle. When it did, he calmly snatched the deer shank out of Kaag’s massive hand –
– and slammed his fist square into the goliath’s jaw.
Kaag lifted off the ground and crashed into the spit, hurtling the deer carcass and scattering the fire. He rolled to the side and patted away the embers on his tunic, all while howling like a bewildered beast.
Lute stepped over the goliath, the discomfort in his stomach now a mantra of clarity. “You are right, Kaag. I have restricted myself, become too attached to the examples of the paragons before me. But a new sermon is needed.”
He tore off the trial vestments overlying his armour and threw them into the flame. He and his stomach felt freer for it.
“Kord is the Unfettered Father. And his children will always be rebels.” Lute offered his hand to Kaag. “Perhaps you are here to remind me of that.”
Kaag stared at the hand, but did not take it. Instead, he scrambled to his feet, rubbed his broken jaw, then stormed away from the campsite without a word.
Lute watched the goliath retreat with a grin on his face. Revelation aside, the punch had felt good. And his grumbling stomach now felt like victory.
He took a well-earned bite of meat from the shank in his hand.
Rin stepped to his side, marvelling at the mess that the campsite had become. “He’ll get over it.” The elf raised an eyebrow at Lute and chuckled. “Not that you look overly concerned.”
Tanaki hooted. “That was some punch, Lute! And not just to his fat jaw.”
“True,” Rin agreed. “I think you delivered a heavier blow to the goliath’s pride, more than anything.”
Lute looked at the blood on his knuckles, which still stung from the impact – it was a… sacred sensation.
“No,” he said. “I simply delivered him Kord’s holy communion.”
Author’s Comments
Full disclosure. The fella who played the Goliath was not a bully like this in the game. He is probably the most considerate person I know, to be honest. (we will talk about real bullies in gaming in the future).
But writing a scene, which is essentially a “Campfire and Chill session,” would be quite boring without some added tension and conflict.
So, let’s talk about the part of the game that is difficult to translate to narrative – planning.
Planning is an essential part of D&D (most RPG’s really), and it can be simultaneously the best and most frustrating part of the game. When players are so immersed in the game that they play it all on their own, without the DM’s direction, you know you have done something right. But if that planning descends into an endless cycle of indecision and player paralysis, the fun will soon flee the table.
My advice in such a scenario is to remember that this is still a game. And a game that is all about attempting the heroic and achieving the impossible. It is about embracing risk in a safe environment. Failure is part of the fun, and the lesson.
So have fun planning. But then just go for it! And perhaps that boldness will grow in other ways, as a result.