2.04.2006
INTERLUDE: The Rod Of Orcus
Rupert's torture in hell continued unabated. Until finally...
"Hello there Mr... Rupert, something. Ex-paladin. Yes? Do I have the right chap?"
With what remained of his left eye and face, Rupert looked down at the demon from where he was crucified. Despite being impaled through the neck, he found he could talk. "Yes," he croaked. "I think. Does it really matter anymore? Who gives a shit who or what I once was?"
The demon nodded, took off his overcoat, put down his briefcase, and sat down on the small torturer's stool. "Hello there Mr. Rupert. I'm Rollodytes Klaathura. You can call me Mr. Rollo if you'd like."
"Fuck off."
The demon was taken aback. "As you wish." He put his coat back on, picked up his case, and walked off into the plains of Hell. "Ha ha ha... bastard..." Rupert spat. He could see the demon nodding hello to the approaching torturers. Come back for the show after dinner... Rupert thought to himself before succumbing to the pain.
...
"Hello again, Mr. Rupert. Had enough?"
The demon was closer this time, looking at Rupert right in the face. Rupert was suspended horizontally on a pole shoved all the way through his torso, the bloody, gore-covered tip sprung grotesquely out his mouth. Again to his surprise, Rupert found himself able to vocalize.
"What the hell do you want."
The demon smiled. "Excellent question. I'd like to help you out of the... situation you find yourself in. Sound pleasant?"
"Go to hell." Rupert laughed at his joke, coughing up thick blood all over his pole. "You know why I'm here. You know what I did."
"Killed your wife, a priestess of Isaac of the Jug, and renounced your faith. All just before dying in a most horrible way. It's all here in your file." The demon waved a manila folder with a small blue tag on the edge.
"Yes by god yes... This... this is what I deserve! No, I don't want HELP with my SITUATION. Fuck you and fuck your... oh god... oh god..." Rupert's pain and grief overtook him and sobs rolled down his face, diluting some of the black blood smeared about his mouth.
"Well, have a nice day." Mr. Rollo took his leave.
...
The third time the demon came, Rupert's torture was just beginning. His left foot had been placed in a vice. Mr. Rollo watched his foot get crushed into pulp, listening to Rupert's screams, all in silence, before approaching him again.
Rupert scowled. "Nice day for a stroll asshole. Just wait til you see what happens next."
Mr. Rollo sighed. "This is all... unnecessary, my dear fellow. Haven't you repented enough? Haven't you suffered enough? Need I remind you that your wife had you conned, or more specifically, had you charmed? Under her control? But this is all ancient history; the present state is unaffected by your past. No no," he said, turning to the torturers. "Don't yet take out his tongue. Mr. Rupert and I wish to have a little chat. Why don't you chaps run off, grab a cool one? Come on back in twenty?" The torturers shrugged and left.
"Why... what is it you want?"
Mr. Rollo smiled, briefly. "Nothing I want, son. It's the boss. Thinks you can do some good. Up there. Or at least, take revenge for a bit. Worst that happens? You just come back down here and get back on your pole."
"Alright. Tell me more."
"Well, Orcus, the big man, has some trouble with Zel... mm. Let me start over. Have you heard of the Rod of Orcus?"
"Rod of Orcus? Sure... no, wait. The Wand, The Wand of Orcus, it's like an artifact or something," said Rupert.
"Yes, but surely you've heard of 'Rod, Staff, Wand'?" Mr. Rollo cocked a knowing eye.
Rupert frowned. "Wha? No, that's, that's like a saving throw or something. What are you talking about?"
Mr. Rollo nodded. "Orcus has a wand, a staff, and a rod. Now the wand and staff are in good hands." The demon smiled at his pun. "But the rod... it seems to have gone... missing."
"And you want me to return to the world and find Orcuses goddamn rod. Orcus sucks, fuck you, you can tell him I said that. See ya."
"Now wait just a minute. It turns out that 'missing' isn't exactly the right word. We know who has it... some followers of Zelba, that bitch goddess who should've stayed dead. Seems that she's trying to take over some of Orcus' control of the undead, and this just isn't good. Shareholders getting worried and all that."
Mr. Rollo continued. "And... some of these followers of Zelba... let's just say you're a friend of a friend."
Rupert's eyes widened. "You mean..."
"Yes, I mean you'd want to start by hunting down the guys who killed you. It'd be a good first step."
Rupert began to say something, then stopped, and thought for a second.
"Okay," was the last word he uttered as a soul damned in hell.
...
Rupert looked around at the armoury of Orcus as he was being fitted for his black, rusted plate mail. "Okay, so now what happens?"
Mr. Rollo smiled. "Well, you're a fallen paladin. Makes you the best contender... only contender, really, to become a Death Knight. You'll probably want to begin by finding an evil steed, an Unholy Sword, that sort of stuff, before deciding to exact vengeance and bringing down the church of Zelba."
"No problem. Sounds like fun. I mean, what's the worst that can happen? They kill me? 'You can't fire me, I quit!' Ha ha ha." Rupert and Mr. Rollo shared a laugh.
"But... there's just one thing..." said Mr. Rollo, frowning.
"What's that?"
"It's small... just a detail really."
Rupert looked confused. "No, come on. What do you mean?"
"Well," said Mr. Rollo, spreading his hands in a placating gesture. "It's... it's your name. Your name, really."
Rupert grew angry. "What's wrong with my goddamn NAME?!"
"Rupert? Rupert the Death Knight? This isn't going to work, really, for us. How about... Lord Vladamir Death Knight?"
Rupert was outraged. "Vlada... no. No, that's retarded. Rupert is fine."
"No, I'm sorry son, but it's not. Okay, hmm... what about Sir Mourgrym Revanence?"
...
(One hour later...)
Rupert sat down, tired. "No, all those names suck."
"Lord Roderick Skullbones?"
"No... no, okay. Nevermind. Roderick Skullbones is fine. 'Skullbones'... that doesn't even make any sense."
"It doesn't have to make sense, it just has to scare some peasants, you know, drum up some press."
"Whatever. Let's get this show on the road."
"Yes... yes sir, Lord Skullbones."
"Hello there Mr... Rupert, something. Ex-paladin. Yes? Do I have the right chap?"
With what remained of his left eye and face, Rupert looked down at the demon from where he was crucified. Despite being impaled through the neck, he found he could talk. "Yes," he croaked. "I think. Does it really matter anymore? Who gives a shit who or what I once was?"
The demon nodded, took off his overcoat, put down his briefcase, and sat down on the small torturer's stool. "Hello there Mr. Rupert. I'm Rollodytes Klaathura. You can call me Mr. Rollo if you'd like."
"Fuck off."
The demon was taken aback. "As you wish." He put his coat back on, picked up his case, and walked off into the plains of Hell. "Ha ha ha... bastard..." Rupert spat. He could see the demon nodding hello to the approaching torturers. Come back for the show after dinner... Rupert thought to himself before succumbing to the pain.
...
"Hello again, Mr. Rupert. Had enough?"
The demon was closer this time, looking at Rupert right in the face. Rupert was suspended horizontally on a pole shoved all the way through his torso, the bloody, gore-covered tip sprung grotesquely out his mouth. Again to his surprise, Rupert found himself able to vocalize.
"What the hell do you want."
The demon smiled. "Excellent question. I'd like to help you out of the... situation you find yourself in. Sound pleasant?"
"Go to hell." Rupert laughed at his joke, coughing up thick blood all over his pole. "You know why I'm here. You know what I did."
"Killed your wife, a priestess of Isaac of the Jug, and renounced your faith. All just before dying in a most horrible way. It's all here in your file." The demon waved a manila folder with a small blue tag on the edge.
"Yes by god yes... This... this is what I deserve! No, I don't want HELP with my SITUATION. Fuck you and fuck your... oh god... oh god..." Rupert's pain and grief overtook him and sobs rolled down his face, diluting some of the black blood smeared about his mouth.
"Well, have a nice day." Mr. Rollo took his leave.
...
The third time the demon came, Rupert's torture was just beginning. His left foot had been placed in a vice. Mr. Rollo watched his foot get crushed into pulp, listening to Rupert's screams, all in silence, before approaching him again.
Rupert scowled. "Nice day for a stroll asshole. Just wait til you see what happens next."
Mr. Rollo sighed. "This is all... unnecessary, my dear fellow. Haven't you repented enough? Haven't you suffered enough? Need I remind you that your wife had you conned, or more specifically, had you charmed? Under her control? But this is all ancient history; the present state is unaffected by your past. No no," he said, turning to the torturers. "Don't yet take out his tongue. Mr. Rupert and I wish to have a little chat. Why don't you chaps run off, grab a cool one? Come on back in twenty?" The torturers shrugged and left.
"Why... what is it you want?"
Mr. Rollo smiled, briefly. "Nothing I want, son. It's the boss. Thinks you can do some good. Up there. Or at least, take revenge for a bit. Worst that happens? You just come back down here and get back on your pole."
"Alright. Tell me more."
"Well, Orcus, the big man, has some trouble with Zel... mm. Let me start over. Have you heard of the Rod of Orcus?"
"Rod of Orcus? Sure... no, wait. The Wand, The Wand of Orcus, it's like an artifact or something," said Rupert.
"Yes, but surely you've heard of 'Rod, Staff, Wand'?" Mr. Rollo cocked a knowing eye.
Rupert frowned. "Wha? No, that's, that's like a saving throw or something. What are you talking about?"
Mr. Rollo nodded. "Orcus has a wand, a staff, and a rod. Now the wand and staff are in good hands." The demon smiled at his pun. "But the rod... it seems to have gone... missing."
"And you want me to return to the world and find Orcuses goddamn rod. Orcus sucks, fuck you, you can tell him I said that. See ya."
"Now wait just a minute. It turns out that 'missing' isn't exactly the right word. We know who has it... some followers of Zelba, that bitch goddess who should've stayed dead. Seems that she's trying to take over some of Orcus' control of the undead, and this just isn't good. Shareholders getting worried and all that."
Mr. Rollo continued. "And... some of these followers of Zelba... let's just say you're a friend of a friend."
Rupert's eyes widened. "You mean..."
"Yes, I mean you'd want to start by hunting down the guys who killed you. It'd be a good first step."
Rupert began to say something, then stopped, and thought for a second.
"Okay," was the last word he uttered as a soul damned in hell.
...
Rupert looked around at the armoury of Orcus as he was being fitted for his black, rusted plate mail. "Okay, so now what happens?"
Mr. Rollo smiled. "Well, you're a fallen paladin. Makes you the best contender... only contender, really, to become a Death Knight. You'll probably want to begin by finding an evil steed, an Unholy Sword, that sort of stuff, before deciding to exact vengeance and bringing down the church of Zelba."
"No problem. Sounds like fun. I mean, what's the worst that can happen? They kill me? 'You can't fire me, I quit!' Ha ha ha." Rupert and Mr. Rollo shared a laugh.
"But... there's just one thing..." said Mr. Rollo, frowning.
"What's that?"
"It's small... just a detail really."
Rupert looked confused. "No, come on. What do you mean?"
"Well," said Mr. Rollo, spreading his hands in a placating gesture. "It's... it's your name. Your name, really."
Rupert grew angry. "What's wrong with my goddamn NAME?!"
"Rupert? Rupert the Death Knight? This isn't going to work, really, for us. How about... Lord Vladamir Death Knight?"
Rupert was outraged. "Vlada... no. No, that's retarded. Rupert is fine."
"No, I'm sorry son, but it's not. Okay, hmm... what about Sir Mourgrym Revanence?"
...
(One hour later...)
Rupert sat down, tired. "No, all those names suck."
"Lord Roderick Skullbones?"
"No... no, okay. Nevermind. Roderick Skullbones is fine. 'Skullbones'... that doesn't even make any sense."
"It doesn't have to make sense, it just has to scare some peasants, you know, drum up some press."
"Whatever. Let's get this show on the road."
"Yes... yes sir, Lord Skullbones."
