No Good Deed (2 page)

Used to prophetic dreams, he opened his eyes slowly. Realizing it was the middle of the night, children were all around him, and he could do nothing about it anyway, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep. It took him a bit longer than he would have liked; he knew it was a vision from The Seers. It got him thinking again. He loved Relina with all of his heart and being a Paladin has turned out to be better than he could have possibly imagined. Still, sometimes he felt something was missing. He feels like people laughed at him and he doesn’t know why. He felt incomplete, like every gets the joke but him; or maybe he is the joke. He is respected, he strikes fear into his enemies but somehow it’s not enough. Finally, he soon fell back asleep.

Mordechi Vindishbar leads the Church of the Seer. He is good leader and under him, many prophesies have come to pass, some for good some for ill. It’s said because of one of his visions a global war was averted. He is a great man. He is a much—loved man. He is 5’ 10” and graying at the temples, with splotches throughout his hair. His deep purple eyes have seen much, too much some might say. Still, he makes his weekly trek to the Tower of Vision, where he speaks directly with his gods, Lord and Lady Seer. He has done this faithfully every week for 20 years.

The church of the Seer is one of the most powerful churches in the world. Over the centuries Lord and Lady Seer have learned to always give the answers in riddles, vague innuendoes, and doublespeak. They will
never
give a direct answer, at least not anymore. They learned all too well how groups and gods on this world take their word as law, creating self—fulfilling prophecy. They are the most enigmatic gods going. Often loved, often hated, often trusted and betrayed, even by those they call allies, but every god had a very strong opinion about them. Because of this, they hold their church in high regard, their priests they treat as brothers and Obidaan, their only paladin, is much beloved, and the one person they believe can do them no wrong.

In the beginning, Mordechi had a hard time interpreting their visions, however, as time has gone by he, and only he, has deciphered their riddles, made sense of their innuendoes, and made singularity of their double entendres. He is said to have 90% accuracy to what the Seers meant. Others argue he is 100% since all outcomes are possible.

But today, Mordechi does not want to go. His current dreams have been of himself, Obidaan, and destruction. He loves Obidaan like a son. He knows Obidaan is destined for greatness; to possibly save the world. He is afraid of Obidaan this day.

He reaches the chamber, and with ritualistic autonomy, he begins to light the candles and says the prayers.

“You are disturbed by your recent dream,” Lord Seer says.

“Yes, sir,” his normally strong voice cracks slightly, “I saw such horror such destruction, but I saw Obidaan, as both the Savior . . and its cause. He fights the righteous fight, yet he was slaughtering the innocent and laughing. Then I saw myself, stand both with him, and against him. What does this mean? I don’t understand.”

Lady Seer spoke now, “More like you don’t want to understand. Your interpretations skills are well tuned and at this stage you know full well your dream, you just wish it were not so. You have a great choice ahead of you; one with grave consequences wh.. if you choose wrong.”

“You’re one of our most trusted priests,” Lord Seer said, “however, you always tend to see things with your head, not your heart. You MUST look with your heart in the coming times; only then can you know what is right. A tribulation is coming. Obidaan is the linchpin. I will offer no more.”

“Please, just this once, I saw myself. I saw… I can’t say it. But I must know, what should I do?”

“We will not tell you,” Lady said. “The last time this happened, this world nearly ended. Had we not forged a destiny that was not there, there would be no life on this planet. No, the consequences have proven to be too dire. Listen carefully to our words and heed the signs. This prophecy is slow in coming. Now, go and be blessed. And remember, above all else, listen to your heart.”

Mordechi only pretended to be comforted as he walked back down the steps.

“My Lord, maybe this time we should have told him,” Lady said.

“No. Even if that is the strongest path, there are still others. The branches have not withered away. War can still be averted.”

“If not, what will we do then?”

“What ever is necessary.”

While Obidaan played at the orphanage, and Mordechi worried, the others still had business to take care of. Terry was heading to the butcher shop while the others looked around town. They had been gone for several days and wondered if anything new had occurred. Turns out it’s the same old place with the same old people. Some things never change. That might be considered a good thing by some.

As Terry entered the butcher shop. Mieleck, the butcher, was glad to see her. He has a bit of a crush on her of which she is very much aware. She figures one of these days he’ll ask her out and she will gladly accept; she has a bit of a crush on him too. However, Mieleck is a human, approaching middle age, he’d better ask soon.

“Greetings sweetie, how’s the butcher business?”

“A cut above the rest,” he said with a slight laugh. “How are you today, my dear?”

“Well, we survived another adventure, and have this wonderful bull to show for it.”

“Got stiffed on the money again I see. Everyone knows you can pay off Obidaan with livestock and he’ll accept it. You should do the negotiating,” he leaned on the counter and drew a bit closer to her, “with those pretty yellow eyes you could negotiate much better.”

Terry leaned into him and gave him a peck on the cheek, “You are such a sweetheart. But I’d much rather negotiate with my sword. People get on my nerves and I might just loose it and lop his head off during negotiations just as readily as I would negotiate a fair price.”

“All people?”

“Well,” she batted an eye at him, “not all people.”

He breathed a fake sigh of relieve.

“I do love my family after all,” she taunted.

“That’s all?”

“And a few others, but it’s a very short list,” she smiled at him.

“Hehe. So, you want the usual? Half for y’all, skin it, debone it, a quarter for the orphanage and a quarter for me?”

“Sounds great, Mickey. You sure know how to treat a lady.”

“Always a pleasure. Besides, this is a pretty good bull. The parts I keep will more than make up for the butchering. Have to admit, Obidaan’s got himself a fine catch here.”

“I’ll make sure to let him know; thanks dear. See ya in a couple of days,” and on that she turned on her heels and was walking out the door. A bar was the order of the day now.

“Bye. . . um” Mickey was about to say something else, it seemed. Terry stopped at the door and turned.

“Is there something you’d like to ask me?” Terry perked up, her ears raised slightly, “here it comes,” she thought.

“Um, yeah, um. . Would you like. . . would you like. . . would you like your half cut up or whole?” Inside he kicked himself. He wanted this to be the time but he couldn’t raise the courage.

Terry’s ears drooped slightly and she did her best to hide her disappointment. “Cut up is fine. You have such capable hands, I trust your judgment,” she was slightly dejected. She really needed that drink now.

“Stupid, stupid!” Mickey said to himself and smacked his head after the door had closed. Still, he wondered to himself, what would she see in him? She’s an elf, they live almost forever. By her standards, his life is nothing more than a blink of an eye. Besides, while in ok shape from all the butchering he does, he pales in comparison to her. He’s going thin, getting rounder, and has nothing but his shop. What would a dazzling elf like her see in him? He let his fantasies of their date ease his mind as he took the bull around back.

Terry was not surprised when she entered the Five Coins Inn to already see Alister raising hell on stage. He enjoyed an adventure but he loved the stage above all else. Terry had to navigate through the mob Alister had dancing to his tunes. It never ceased to amaze her how he could keep a bar rocking for hours with song, story, and feats of dexterity, keeping customers hungry, thirsty and in the bar. What more could a barkeep ask for? Because of that Alister never had to pay his tab.

Alister’s only real problem is that he often went home with a different woman every night. On the surface, this isn’t such a big deal, since Alister isn’t married. The same though, can’t be said for some of the women he’s been know to bed down with. About his only saving grace is that he was careful enough not to get anyone pregnant.

Don sat in the corner, drinking a hot—spiced wine when he saw Terry come in. He motioned her over to his table. On the table sat his glass, a bottle, a second glass, some bread, meat, and cheese, and a pitcher. As Terry sat down, Don poured her a glass of wine. She took a couple of sips, checking the temperature, before downing the rest in one gulp. Grabbing some of the fixings on the tray, she made a makeshift sandwich. Before taking a bite, she yelled over to the bartender. “Good sir! A pint of your finest ale!” Once she got an acknowledgment, she took a bite of her sandwich.

“Did you take care of the cow?” Don asked nonchalantly.

“Yesh,” Terry said talking with her mouth full.

“Did he ask you out?”

“No.”

“Loser.”

“He is not!” she swallowed hard, “He’s a nice guy, a bit shy but very nice. He’ll ask someday.”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“I can’t do that!”

“Loser.”

“Shut up!”

They both started laughing at their conversation. The ale came and Terry took a long healthy drink, downing about half of it before putting the mug down. While they sat there, a lady came up to the table and looked over at Don, “Would you care to dance?” she asked him.

“No, thank you. Maybe later,” He said with a half smile. Unperturbed, the lady skipped off to the next table where she found a dance partner.

“Loser,” Terry said with a smile.

“I don’t even know the lady.”

“So what? You’re in a bar, loosen up, have fun.”

“I am loose.”

“So I see,” she said sarcastically.

“Would you care to dance?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” and at that, she whipped him up out of his chair and they hit the dance floor.

People were having a good time untill a very large, very drunk, very angry man made his way to the stage and grabbed Alister.

“You punk!” he yelled, “You slept wif my wife, now I gonna bash you purty li’le face in!”

People got quiet but no one seemed to be running for the door. The bartender thumped one of the five coins embedded in the bar and wooden panels dropped down over the bar, protecting mirrors, glass, and the booze.

“Look,” Alister was squirming a bit, but the barbarian’s grasp was tight, “I sleep with a lot of wives, can you be a bit more specific?” Alister was trying to be funny, but it didn’t seem to work.

“Hers name’s Jenny and now all she think ‘bout is you.”

“Well, I am both sorry, yet strangely awed to hear that. Are you sure it’s me? There are lots of Alisters in the world. You may have the wrong one.”

“You may have point,” he seemed almost reasonable at that point, “’cept for the fact that she’s here!” He pointed to a beautiful raven—haired lady, who stood about 6’ 2’ and could carry Alister like a sack of potatoes. She threw a kiss to Alister.

“If you were more of a gentleman like him, I’d appreciate you more. He lets me carry him to bed. I like that.”

“Well, um, yes, well I couldn’t exactly carry you my dear,” Alister smiled nervously. “Reminds me of a story about a man who was lost in the woods one day and he. . .” Alister was abruptly cut off.

“No you don’t. I know you bards, once ya start yappin’ people f’get. You ain’t getting’ out of it this time. You gonna to take your beating like a man!”

“Sweetheart, put him down! We should go back home and talk. He’s not worth it.”

“Yeah, like she said, I’m not worth it ... I’m not?”

“You were marvelous darling. Could you write down some of the things you did and give them to my husband? I’ve been meaning to ask you that.”

“Sure, no problem,” his voice was getting squeaky as the husband tightened his grip.

“You gonna to have hard time writin’ with busted hands, little man! Now get ready for some pain.” The barbarian dropped his right hand down and, out of nowhere, appeared a smooth ebony club with two brass knobbed rings on the end. It was a gorgeous sight to behold; engraved with a warrior single handedly bashing an army, men flying through the air.

“Oh no!” said Don under his breath, “A soul weapon. Alister doesn’t stand a chance.”

A hush went over the crowd and almost in a low tone they said, “Gunther.” Alister heard that and looked down and saw the weapon. Beads of sweat began to form on Alister’s forehead.

“Gunther! Gunther—the—Mad!” He looked over at Jenny, “Your husband is Gunther—the—Mad? The man who single handedly wiped out the Bocktarian army? Bocktaria is now in dispute because of him. A land that was at peace for 25 years, which the way lands change hands on this world is an eternity. A land where 3 rival kingdoms are now fighting for the territory, not to mention the current ruler – if you can call her that – is looking to raise an army and avenge the death of her father, brother, and twin sister. “How’s her mother, by the way?”

“Still on th’ run, and in better shape than you. I hear she’s in town somewhere. Wanted to say ‘hi’ see how she doin’, hehe. They woulda been fine if they’d let me in. But they refuse and show total disre..disrespect to m’ wife. Nobody disrespects MY wife. I jus wanted a Inn for us. I had money. Bu’ they pushed, so I pushed back. Harder!”

Jenny couldn’t help but chime in, “It’s such a sweet story, he destroyed an entire country for me. Isn’t that romantic?”

“Yes, very touching. And Gunther, I assure you have nothing but respect for your wife. And madam, it was a small country, if I may interject.”

“That may be true but he still did it all for me.”

“All tha’ means you’ll live through the beatin’, barely,” Gunther interjected into their conversation.