06-13-2017, 01:33 AM
Martin B. Wilder didn’t get paid enough for his job.
The Syntech employee shivered, rubbing his hands together and held them up to the small kerosene heater his stall had been provided with. All Syntech could afford, his good ear! Martin had been sitting here in the freezing cold for who knew how long, just because Karl was worried about bad press from Bruenor and the Trolls if he skipped any of the verses. Apart from that weird ink monster in the sweater, Martin had hardly seen a soul, let alone had enough traffic to warrant the FREAKING BLIZZARD he had been forced to weather during the time he had been waiting here.
He checked his Dataverse device anxiously. It was almost time for him to leave, right? How much longer did he have to wait out here in the snow for no one to show up? He glanced back at the recall station, knowing that warmth was on the other side, but that it wouldn’t work for him until his time was up. Why did Karl need a person at these stations anyway? A robot could do this work just as well! Martin shook his head in frustration and turned back to his Dataverse device, maybe that webcomic had been updated? Nope, still on that downer arc about Stacy. He wished the author would finish it and get back to the good stuff. He looked up with a sigh and was absolutely astonished when the old man in the traveler’s cloak appeared on the horizon.
Martin gawked at him for a full minute, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them, before replacing them on his face. There was definitely someone heading his direction. Maybe they were just heading to the gate? The man marched along at a relatively slow pace, using some kind of walking stick to help him in the shin deep snow. He stumbled into a drift about 30 meters from the stall, and Martin did his best not to stare as the man scrambled to get back up.
After what felt like forever. The old man reached the little stall. “This place is harder to find than you would think.” He said, wheezing just slightly as he brushed snow from his clothes.
Martin looked around at the vast empty white plain. “I guess you must have missed it in all the excitement.” He said dryly. The old man just gave him a look, but didn’t reply immediately. In fact, he just stood there, looking at Martin, who glanced around as if expecting someone else to show up and lend some clarification.
“Can I help you?” he asked finally, after it became clear the old geezer wasn’t going anywhere.
“I believe so, this is the place for Dante’s Abyss, yes?” the old man answered, still staring Martin down.
“Uh… yeah… we don’t sell merchandise here if that’s what you want…” the Syntech employee said with a hint of nervousness. He wasn’t going to get mugged, was he?
“Nor do I want any. This is a sign-up station? I have come to enter.” The man said with the same even tone he had approached the entire conversation with.
“You’re a prime?” Martin’s voice was slightly more incredulous than he had intended it to be. The old man nodded. Martin stared at him for a moment, expecting him to say he had been joking, and ‘not to be so gullible because them something-racist would steal your wallet’, but the old man just stood there. I guess Omni takes ‘em in all sorts… Martin couldn’t help but shrug as he fumbled for the paperwork.
Wiping a coffee stain, away with his hand he pulled up his notepad.
“Your name?”
“I am but a humble sage, my name is not important.”
Martin gave the old man a look. “This is like a tournament for eternal glory and shit, man. What do you mean your name is not important?”
“Just that.” was his reply.
Martin sucked in a breath and rolled his eyes. “I’m just going to say ‘the Humble Sage’ then, make you sound all mysterious, like a wrestler or something.” The crazy old bat didn’t object so Martin forged on ahead. He was suddenly missing the solitude of this position. “How long’ve you been in the Omniverse?”
“isn’t there a time dilation effect? How would I even know that? I don’t keep track of the days.” The old man answered with an air of slight offense.
“Look man, I don’t make the questions! I’m going to just say ‘about a year’ that way no one will look twice, sound good?” again no objection, the old man seemed lost in thought, muttering to himself. A crazy old man in the middle of the tundra. What great primes Karl was getting for this year’s events. “Where do you live in the Omniverse?”
“… I travel…”
“Of course you do… uh what verse are you most fond of?”
“I have spent the majority of my time here in the Vasty Deeps, but….” Martin raised his voice as he wrote down ‘vasty deeps’ before the old geezer got any further.
“What is your current job?”
“A scholar and a scribe. I record the…”
“Yeah, yeah, a sage. I gotcha. NEXT QUESTION! What was your life like back in your own world?”
For once the crazy hobo, whom martin was half convinced was just a senile old man and not a prime at all, did not immediately reply. Eventually he fixed Martin with a stare.
“My homeland was one of outer tranquility, and inner putrefaction. I am not the lesser for leaving it, nor will it miss my existence, save perhaps for the assistance I could have brought it. Aid I will now bring to you instead.”
Oh boy. Not just senile, this one had an ego to go with it. “coolio. Last one, why are you entering Dante’s Abyss?”
The old man smiled, and there was a glint in his eye that Martin B. Wilder didn’t particularly like.
“Let’s just say that I have a keen interest in meeting Karl Jak.”
The Syntech employee shivered, rubbing his hands together and held them up to the small kerosene heater his stall had been provided with. All Syntech could afford, his good ear! Martin had been sitting here in the freezing cold for who knew how long, just because Karl was worried about bad press from Bruenor and the Trolls if he skipped any of the verses. Apart from that weird ink monster in the sweater, Martin had hardly seen a soul, let alone had enough traffic to warrant the FREAKING BLIZZARD he had been forced to weather during the time he had been waiting here.
He checked his Dataverse device anxiously. It was almost time for him to leave, right? How much longer did he have to wait out here in the snow for no one to show up? He glanced back at the recall station, knowing that warmth was on the other side, but that it wouldn’t work for him until his time was up. Why did Karl need a person at these stations anyway? A robot could do this work just as well! Martin shook his head in frustration and turned back to his Dataverse device, maybe that webcomic had been updated? Nope, still on that downer arc about Stacy. He wished the author would finish it and get back to the good stuff. He looked up with a sigh and was absolutely astonished when the old man in the traveler’s cloak appeared on the horizon.
Martin gawked at him for a full minute, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them, before replacing them on his face. There was definitely someone heading his direction. Maybe they were just heading to the gate? The man marched along at a relatively slow pace, using some kind of walking stick to help him in the shin deep snow. He stumbled into a drift about 30 meters from the stall, and Martin did his best not to stare as the man scrambled to get back up.
After what felt like forever. The old man reached the little stall. “This place is harder to find than you would think.” He said, wheezing just slightly as he brushed snow from his clothes.
Martin looked around at the vast empty white plain. “I guess you must have missed it in all the excitement.” He said dryly. The old man just gave him a look, but didn’t reply immediately. In fact, he just stood there, looking at Martin, who glanced around as if expecting someone else to show up and lend some clarification.
“Can I help you?” he asked finally, after it became clear the old geezer wasn’t going anywhere.
“I believe so, this is the place for Dante’s Abyss, yes?” the old man answered, still staring Martin down.
“Uh… yeah… we don’t sell merchandise here if that’s what you want…” the Syntech employee said with a hint of nervousness. He wasn’t going to get mugged, was he?
“Nor do I want any. This is a sign-up station? I have come to enter.” The man said with the same even tone he had approached the entire conversation with.
“You’re a prime?” Martin’s voice was slightly more incredulous than he had intended it to be. The old man nodded. Martin stared at him for a moment, expecting him to say he had been joking, and ‘not to be so gullible because them something-racist would steal your wallet’, but the old man just stood there. I guess Omni takes ‘em in all sorts… Martin couldn’t help but shrug as he fumbled for the paperwork.
Wiping a coffee stain, away with his hand he pulled up his notepad.
“Your name?”
“I am but a humble sage, my name is not important.”
Martin gave the old man a look. “This is like a tournament for eternal glory and shit, man. What do you mean your name is not important?”
“Just that.” was his reply.
Martin sucked in a breath and rolled his eyes. “I’m just going to say ‘the Humble Sage’ then, make you sound all mysterious, like a wrestler or something.” The crazy old bat didn’t object so Martin forged on ahead. He was suddenly missing the solitude of this position. “How long’ve you been in the Omniverse?”
“isn’t there a time dilation effect? How would I even know that? I don’t keep track of the days.” The old man answered with an air of slight offense.
“Look man, I don’t make the questions! I’m going to just say ‘about a year’ that way no one will look twice, sound good?” again no objection, the old man seemed lost in thought, muttering to himself. A crazy old man in the middle of the tundra. What great primes Karl was getting for this year’s events. “Where do you live in the Omniverse?”
“… I travel…”
“Of course you do… uh what verse are you most fond of?”
“I have spent the majority of my time here in the Vasty Deeps, but….” Martin raised his voice as he wrote down ‘vasty deeps’ before the old geezer got any further.
“What is your current job?”
“A scholar and a scribe. I record the…”
“Yeah, yeah, a sage. I gotcha. NEXT QUESTION! What was your life like back in your own world?”
For once the crazy hobo, whom martin was half convinced was just a senile old man and not a prime at all, did not immediately reply. Eventually he fixed Martin with a stare.
“My homeland was one of outer tranquility, and inner putrefaction. I am not the lesser for leaving it, nor will it miss my existence, save perhaps for the assistance I could have brought it. Aid I will now bring to you instead.”
Oh boy. Not just senile, this one had an ego to go with it. “coolio. Last one, why are you entering Dante’s Abyss?”
The old man smiled, and there was a glint in his eye that Martin B. Wilder didn’t particularly like.
“Let’s just say that I have a keen interest in meeting Karl Jak.”
If history is to become legend, it first must be recorded.