The Fighter

A loser tries to escape

"I go by many names, but that is not important right now. What is important is that I have traveled many lands, studying, waiting, training, searching for this moment, the moment where I can finally take that which I desire the most, the Amulet of Zelanoth. With it I will be granted power beyond mortal understanding. There is only one obstacle between me and complete victory, that is you. You may have the amulet, but it is worthless without the holy phrases passed down to the Zelanoth priesthood. I know your intentions. You seek to bring the amulet to the high priest at the temple. You're too late, he is dead and the only one who knows the words is me. I laugh now at your attempts to defeat me. Your lunches have strength but you lack speed. You are a predictable simpleton and no match for my sword. Now die so that I may claim my victory!" A smile runs across my face as I watch the life drain out of the last obstacle in my path. I grab the amulet out of the corpse's dead hands that grip the chain and recite the dark words of Zelanoth unleashing the evil power within.

"And that's game," says Kinsey, "That was a nice monologue before you killed Colin's character."

"You know me, my fighter is the best, always," I respond.

Colin buts in, "You know, had I not wasted all of my spells, my wizard would have killed you. I want a rematch!"

"I am not acting as Dungeon Master for that campaign again, that took hours to prepare!" laughs Kinsey, "Colin, maybe you should try making a story for once and we can play through some of your crap next week."

"I'll do it," says Colin. He's always such a good sport.

After a few quick goodbyes, I throw my books in my satchel and I'm on my way back home. It is getting dark out. It took a long time to get to the amulet and end the game.

On my way home, I recall my monologue and begin to recite it, imagining how my fighter would have said it. I try to imitate how I would want his voice to have sounded as I walk home. 

I hear a voice, "Hey, it's that nerdy Alex kid, what a loser!"

My fantasy is shattered. I do not go by many names. My name is Alex. I'm not a fighter, I'm a wimp who plays board games so he can pretend he isn't a loser. I pick up my walking pace, but to no avail, Chad comes sailing over with his girlfriend.

"Come on Chad, not tonight, can't you just cut me a break?" I plead.

"Oh come on man, I just want to hang out, come on, don't you want to hang out," he sneers. I hate it when he talks to me, that means things are going to be worse. Why can't he just push me in the mud, kick me in the side and be done with it? Why must he drag things on?

"So, you think you're some hot s**t with that amulet thingy you've been talking about!"

"The Amulet of Zelanoth...it's just a thing, you know...maybe I'll just leave," I try to walk past him, praying to the gods that he will let me past.

My luck has run dry. He pushes me and I land on the pavement while Chad's w***e laughs. He sits down and says, "You know, you can play your little games but that doesn't change the fact that this is the real world, and in the real world you're a loser."

He kicks me in the side. I cry out in pain that please the dark gods who feed upon mortal suffering.

"Yeah, go on, cry you little pig, cry. Now that I have your attention, look up. Look at Jacqui. Looks hot doesn't she?" He kicks me again, "I said, look up!"

I look up at Jacqui, the ugly tramp Chad calls his girlfriend. She is Chad's sword, always by his side but easily discarded if something better comes along. To Jacqui, Chad is her crown, a pretty sign of reputation but lacking any use beyond decoration. 

"Yes, she's beautiful," I lie. Chad grins, "And do you know why you'll never get this? You're a loser!" Again he kicks me and I scream.

"Let's go babe," the words that signify my freedom from the ordeal, "but first I'm taking this loser's purse." I clutch my satchel, another kick, my grip releases and he walks away.

Crying, I run home. I get inside and see a note on the counter,

"Hey Alex, your dad and I went to visit your brother at the university. Won't be back until tomorrow. Dinner's on the table.

-Mom"

I don't bother looking at the table. The whole ordeal ruined my appetite anyways. I walk to the kitchen counter, grab the knife and my mind starts to wander to places unspeakable and a permanent solution to my problems.

I hold the blade to my wrist and prepare to cut, but my mind wanders and I begin to think about the man who goes by many names.

He has the Amulet of Zelanoth and thus is the most powerful man in the kingdom. But yet, it is only one of the nine artifacts of the Astral Plane. He still has many miles to travel, many tombs to raid, incantations to learn. I put down the blade.

What I am called in the real world does not matter, nor does it matter what I am called in the game world. What matters is that in both, I have work left unfinished.