The Master Sword Tales Episode 2: Telefragged!

Jax

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MS Tales Episode 1: Character Recovery
^Read that first

Damn you, Lanethan, I had to write the whole thing by myself :oldcry:

Unfortunately, I"m aware that in MS:C you do not telefrag, you simply get stuck. Oh well. :twisted:

The Master Sword Tales Episode 2: Telefragged!

© 2006 by Lanethan and Jax

Lanethan=Rifkin
Jax=Jhaxavier


---
Jhaxavier looked at Death and cocked an eyebrow.

“How long have we been here? I’ve lost track of time, I’m afraid,” he said, shrugging.

Death took out a small, hourglass with purple sand in it. He raised it in front of his face and examined it, saying EXACTLY 22 YEARS, 7 MONTHS, 21 DAYS, 3 HOURS, AND 42 MINUTES.

“The hell? Felt like a few days…” Jhaxavier stepped down from the troll’s now twitching carcass and walked into the floor portal. He popped out of a portal outside the glass box he was in before and walked over to the other side of the room, where Rifkin was sulking at a desk.

”How’s it going?” he asked.

Rifkin said nothing for a while, then said, “I got all the time in the world to read books…all the time I want...” His voice was tinged with a little madness.

“Then why aren’t you reading?”

“Death of Rats stole my glasses…that little bastard.”

“Yeah, too bad he’s already dead.” Jhaxavier patted him on the shoulder and turned to look at Death, now looking very out of place sitting at his mahogany desk in the middle of the stone lot complex. He was sifting through paperwork.

“So are we ready to take on this mage guy?” asked Jhaxavier, flexing unimpressively in his gear.

I SUPPOSE. HOWEVER, YOU MUST BE READY TO TAKE HIM ON. HE’S A LOT MORE DANGEROUS THAN YOUR RUN-OF-THE-MILL MAD WIZARD Death said, not looking up from his paperwork.

“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you something,” said Jhaxavier. Death spun his swivel chair around without moving at all, his skeletal hands folded.

WHAT?

“Why don’t you kill him?”

AH. WELL, DEATH CAN’T JUST STRIKE PEOPLE DOWN JUST LIKE THAT, EH? THAT’S FOR GODS TO DO. He shrugged.

“Who cares, he doesn’t have any relatives or anything.”

I DON’T DO ANY SMITING AROUND HERE. THE GODS DO THAT. I SEPARATE PEOPLE FROM THEIR WORLDLY BODIES. Death’s eyesockets stared at Jhaxavier from under the hood.

I CAN’T CUT A HEALTHY ORC WARBOSS’S LIFE CHAIN, FOR INSTANCE, BECAUSE HE ISN’T IN A STATE OF DEATH OR NEAR DEATH. THEIR BODIES ARE VERY HARD TO PENETRATE WHEN THEY’RE ALIVE. I CAN, HOWEVER, CUT DOWN LESSER BEINGS SUCH AS RATS, BUT THAT’S WHAT I HAVE DEATH OF RATS FOR. He jerked a thumb towards a cobweb-ridden mousehole at the end of the room.

AND ABOUT KELEDROS, HE HIMSELF MAY BE UNDEAD, AND I CANNOT SEPARATE UNDEAD FROM THEIR CARCASSES. YOU SEE, he said, now crossing his legs, UNDEAD ARE BASICALLY SOULS STUCK IN ARMOR, ROTTEN BODIES, ETCETERA, THAT ARE UNDER CONTROL OF A HIGHER BEING, USUALLY A NECROMANCER. THE SOULS STUCK IN THESE SHELLS HAVE NO CONTROL, THEY JUST KEEP THE BODY FROM FALLING TO PIECES.

Death then seemed to clear his missing throat, sounding a lot like a saw cutting metal than an ‘ahem’. ANY QUESTIONS?

Rifkin was turned around in his chair now, his sulking evaporated. “You should become a lecturer.”

Jhaxavier yawned. “So when do we go and get him?”

NOW, ACTUALLY.

Death pointed behind them. A black and rainbow colored portal pulsated behind them.

“Uuuh…that’s trippy,” said Jhaxavier looking away from the painful sight, “but where does this thing end up at?”

THE TEMPLE OF BALANCE IN EDANA. FROM THERE YOU GO THE SAME ROUTE YOU TOOK BEFORE, EXCEPT GO TO THAT DANGEROUS PASSAGE FROM HELENA.

“First, where’s my glasses?” asked Rifkin. He looked sulky again.

AH. I WAS GETTING TO THAT. Death suddenly reached down and picked up a tiny figure in an equally tiny cloak by the cowl. GIVE HIM HIS STUFF BACK, RATS.

Death of Rats hung his skull. SQUEAK. Death of Rats reached in his cloak and handed to Death Rifkin’s glasses, then his quill, and then a glowing ring.

Rifkin sighed and took them from Death. “Thanks a load mate.”

DON’T MENTION IT. INTO THE PORTAL. NOW.

“Right…you first, Rifkin,” said Jhaxavier.

“What, so I can break your fall first?” asked Rifkin, cocking an eyebrow.

“Exactly.”

“Whatever.” Rifkin stepped into the trippy portal and vanished. Jhaxavier followed suit, but not before trying his hand first. It stuck.

“Oh bollocks, it’s stuck.”

Death proceeded to kick the rest of Jhaxavier into the portal, his screams turning to squirrel-like screeches as the portal enveloped him.

STUPD MORTALS…I WONDER IF THEY’LL ACTUALLY BE COMPETENT…

***
It was a very sick feeling, going through portals. It felt like your brain was being smashed in by a grapefruit wrapped around a large gold brick.
Rifkin’s first sight was of something fleshy, very red, and squelchy. The next thing he knew, he was standing in Edana’s Temple of Balance, covered in blood, guts, and someone else’s skin and general insides.

Needless to say, the priests looked appalled.

Rifkin took a step backward and asked quickly, “What the hell just happened?”

One priest (presumably the high priest, since he was talking) standing with each foot on a black and white side of the room, replied, “You just telefragged, my son.”

“Huh?”

“New adventurers are always teleported here. Unfortunately, their influx is so large that when they take portals or teleports to this Temple, they usually end up suffering serious injury or death due to the volume of new adventurers teleporting at the same spot.”

Suddenly, Jhaxavier materialized and immediately staggered to keep his balance.

“…damn spectrum portals…” he mumbled, brushing off his clothing. He turned and looked at Rifkin, who was still wearing some other guy’s pelt. “What the hell happened to you, mate?”

“Er…according to the high priest, I telefragged.”

“Ah. I don’t want to know.” Jhaxavier flicked the gore off his foot and strode over to the dark side of the temple towards the exit.

Rifkin shrugged at the High Priest and pulled off the dead adventurer’s pelt, and was heading towards the exit at the light side when the High Priest said, “Wait a moment, adventurer.”

The High Priest mumbled something under his breath and swept his hands slowly towards Rifkin. Immediately, Rifkin’s clothes were clean and very shiny, the gore seeming to fade away.

“Whoa, how’d you do that? I thought light mages mostly did healing…”

“Ah, that’s what they all say.” The high priest’s noble tone changed considerably into a street-smart old man’s. He grinned, tapping the side of his flat nose conspiratorially. “Don’t you wonder who makes the nobility’s clothes so pimped?”

“Ah…I see. Thanks anyway, I really appreciate it.” The priest nodded as he exited the chamber.

Silence ensued.

“Well, what are you waiting for, clean up that mess!” the priest roared, waving his arms. “Let’s face it, I’m overstaffed, I don’t need this many priests to maintain a Temple of Urdual,” he muttered.
---

TO BE CONTINUED.

See if you can spot all the references in the story! There are 4 references to various things. Find em! :D
 

Dudeman418

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Was it really necessary to resurrect a 1 year+ old thread, just to tell people you aren't reading it because of its length? :roll:
 

Sabre

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Srsly, but hey, one of the mods should move this to writing, so that this great story can have a home. :D
 

Thothie

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Terry Pratchett may sue us, but okay.
 
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