The Savage Brawl [Round 5: Battletopia]

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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Konka Rar and the stray piece of Ekelhaft vanished a moment before the fireball struck. Whatever effect it would have had remained unknown.

Rar cursed his luck as he was shifted through the dimensions. His best chance at destroying that irritating creature, wasted. Who had even died? It must have been Diego or Ziirphael, he had seen Gormand and Hoss not long before.

He cursed his luck even more when he saw where he had emerged. Specifically, the large, decorative cross in front of him.

It held no magic, but it still left the lich feeling uncomfortable.

What sick, twisted mind thought it would be entertaining to place a being held together by unholy magic in a church?

Fortunately, it was empty. Not that Rar would have greatly objected to disposing of witnesses, but he did not wish to deal with a priest. Even if they lacked actual magic, they would probably have artifacts of some sort, and holy water was a given. It was a risk he was glad not to face.

Then he heard the front doors opening. Someone was coming. Konka Rar could deal with them easily enough, of course, but the noise might alert the priest, and he was still unsure of his surroundings. Acting on impulse, he dove behind a nearby curtain leading into a booth. Inside was a small book - no doubt the holy book of the church.

He heard footsteps coming closer. Closer.

Then they stopped.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," said a voice from the other side of the booth.

Oh.

Rar flipped through a holy book in the booth, using his cybernetic arm. He did not want to take the risk that the book would burn his undead bones on the touch.

"What troubles you, my son?" Rar said, trying to disguise his voice as best he could. It didn't work very well.

"Are you all right, Father?" the voice asked, sounding concerned. "There's something... odd about your voice."

"A cold. Even men of the cloth must suffer illness from time to time. Such is the will of the Lord." That phrase seemed to be common throughout the book. "But please, tell me what troubles you." So I can leave before your accursed priest comes in without you screaming for him.

The voice sighed. "The same as last time, I fear. I have once again been unfaithful to my wife."

Damn. There was a history here. This would be difficult. Did this man have one mistress he kept returning to? Or did he regularly fall for any woman who caught his eye? Rar could expose himself if he assumed one and it turned out to be the other. For all he knew, this was only the man's second transgression and he was overreacting.

He calmed down. He did not need to assume anything. He could continue the conversation with generalities.

"The Lord is always testing us," the lich said. "You must be strong in the face of temptation. Your marriage is a sacred trust."

"I know," replied the man in the other booth, "but I feel so weak. Every time I see Richard, I think about how much I want to..."

Richard?

As the man recounted his latest encounter in more detail than the ancient wizard would have liked, Rar found himself wondering why the fool had bothered marrying a woman in the first place. It seemed highly impractical given his situation.

On top of that, Rar was beginning to get the impression that the regular priest had asked for this level of detail, which raised questions the lich preferred not to have answered.

Finally, the visitor seemed to pause, hoping for a response.

Had Rar been honest, at this point he would have said "Really, is that all?"

But he had a ruse to maintain. And that meant feeding this somewhat disturbing man the nonsense he wanted to hear.

"You have committed a grave sin," he said, "but the Lord forgives you. But you must be strong in the future. Go back to your wife and tell her you love her."

"Thank you, Father. I feel... I feel I can be strong now."

"The Lord is always with you. Remember that."

"Yes, I will. And by the way, love the sign outside. Makes it clear we don't want the wrong sort coming in here."

Rar said nothing, and waited as the footsteps started again, and slowly faded out.

When they stopped, he left, and carefully opened the main doors of the church. The man's words had piqued his curiosity.

Looking around carefully, with the aid of his cybernetic eye, the lich noted that no one was around. It was likely safe.

Rar stepped outside and read the sign. He didn't understand what the peasant had meant.

Let Your Judgement Be Not Colored, he read. Empty platitudes. I wonder why he thought so highly of it?

The lich then considered his next move. He could not stay hidden, and did not particularly fear the peasants (except, perhaps, what they might say to him if that one man was not unusual), then noted that behind the church, there was a cemetery.

The next course of action was obvious. Provided he could find a shovel.