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Sane and Back Again by “Incandenza

I Am In Here…

The sleepers all keep looking at me, and neither one of us can wake. Our eyes are in our throats I think I think. But you think I don’t know. Me. But you’re not sure.  They’d Kill You In Your Bed! Red Neck Treasure Pockets Pricked and Pried! 

. . *sigh*.  .

Well anyway, you CAN’T say they didn’t deserve it those nasty toadstools! Fucking Other Brigand Scum, right- fellows? A little jig with the jugular – and sure as a Tallfellow-tit- you best come to meet ’em straight on! It was either them or us, it was. And I’d rather it be us than them, when all’s said and said, you see.

Oh right, and while I’m at it I may as well wish to be back in the Millow-Marsh at the Shavepenny Mongoose-  my feet upon a stool pulled up in front of a warm crackling Winter Fir in the hearth! Or howabout a belly full of mung-wine, a canon of the Westbend’s absolute primo Old Toby – and after even there’d be lil’ Pinecone Amy and her rutabaga patch! I am in here. Stupid, stupid, Stout.. You are living with Others! With twigbreakin’ Plods! How did you ever expect anything other than the very bloodbath it was? take it. soak it in.

Oh gods-in-the-morning that’s right- a bath! I’d freaking kill for a bath -Ha! well. that is, if I haven’t already. One might say, you know, if they were at all inclined that way. So that’s all I’m just saying, really. I might be. Maybe the only one in here, even- but I am in here at least – Okay? It is sad here among the Oafenkind not at all like back home.
Neither am I , really.

On this day and a half, I’ve killed six giants. Six.

We turned into our rooms having had too many cups and not enough winks, and I was as close to the Moth Mother’s milk as a man can get without a nipple in his kisser, when what do my weary eyes see but three, three, armed bandits coming into my room to rob me blind and carve themselves up a spitstick of  this here hin-self. And I panicked. -my attack was futile. Separated from my sword and in the dark, I hid, I fought, and hid again. If it wasn’t for the rather dour eldrich fellow, my hide was as close to being riddled as a ring, with me there hiding under the bed- cowering, bleeding- and then, well- I guess you could say it was like magic.

The three murderous giants at my cabin all, as improbable as it may sound, fell asleep simultaneously and fell to the floor- sleeping. Sleeping they lay- and then sleeping they bled. I was upon them as quick and as sure as I could. I’d seen no remorse in these eyes, men but not men. The cold eyes of bandits. Toadfucking Wartdicked Bandits! Life among the giants is truly cruel- I have seen it, I’m afraid. They tried to kill me in my sleep. I was in there. Barely armed and half their size. They sent three at me- godsdamnin’em bunnybangers! I am in here Sleeping!

We slept next back at the Welcome Wench, I rented a room for the lot of us and we were keeping watch. The Club Priest and Forest Friend can both apparently heal, which is incredibly useful, and quite a good thing too since I’d had the right stuffing stabbed and beaten out of me.

So then acquired a new partner when we brought on an extremely well outfitted drunkard named Chipple or Elmo, or some such thing. – I suggested we use a page from the ol’ Truffletom Tiggly’s Roundabout Route Rout and we  stutter-stepped our leavin’ town to throw off any more neerdowells. Can’t wait to tell that one round a round or twelve at the Old Furry Wubbly .

Next torchlicker I took was with a single shot from my full-bow (number four)- the arrow flew kestrel straight  into his left eyehole and he fell to the ground, as another monster charged me and missed me wide-left with his mace. The funny plodder Jerome yelled praises of me and to challenge the other Others.  It gets blurry after that.

Asshole with an impressive if slightly fascist looking baddass shield. Couldn’t hit him for anything! More stabbing than the bushes round a maypole but just could. not. hit  that shit.

More eldrich, more snoozing, more slept. more red bloom trick. (that’s five) no thought. no chance. no way, men.

I waved my steel at the well armored plod, for a bit but it continued to be of not much effect. The last of the sleeping ones woke shortly after. He rose armed and next he fell as I swiftly sent him back down to meet the earth. My sword flashed the red of him when I pulled it from his side.


Next the elf-fellow simply  rapsnaps and Zap! There goes Presto Shieldo! He crumpled to the ground as an eerie purple light flashed into his very self. Then we fell upon their bodies  gutting through like mad badgers in a honey-hole.

My hands are shaking as I write this. I found things. Things on them. Things in me. Things found too. I am here still. Right. In here.

Need to Sleep They Kill You In Your Sleep DEAD- (MAD BADGERS)

. .**sigh**. .

Sane and Back Again

 by the hand of ~ Ingbee “Incandenza” Gardenza