“Kree Manov”, part 2/2
Completely soaked, surrounded by panicking Asura, Froonk was trying to decide what to do. He knew no serious krewe would now be open to him, and serving as an Asura Gate operator wasn’t what he desired either. He slowly realized he had to follow a path more and more young Asura were choosing these days – a path of an adventurer, sometimes called W.W.T.T.G. (“Which Way to the Grave?”). Few people, who chose it, came back – but those, who did, always brought tales of great wonders and even greater dangers lying beyond the horizon. Yet, with Elder Dragons awakening and the continent swarming with terrifying monsters, a quick, painful death was more than possible.
Froonk recalled what Disaster Master Woom told him. “Froonk the Useless, you clearly have no place among us, not in the fine city of Rata Sum”. Woom had no authority in the city, but there was an element of truth in what he said. Froonk had a quick look around – just in time to notice two malfunctioning security golems ripping each other’s arms off on a terrace below, surrounded by a cheering crowd of Asuran children. Offspring, as they called them. Yes, he loved Rata Sum… but he had always treated it like a safe haven he could return to from a journey, not a place where he would like to spend his entire life, fixing various gizmos and comparing achievements with other inventors.
Froonk reached to his pocket and took out a small, old book. It was surprisingly dry – a minor dwarven spell held well, protecting paper from dampening. Smile appeared on Asura’s face, as he opened the tome. The dwarven chronicle, telling stories from well over 250 years, has always been his favourite book. It was written in Droknar’s Forge, soon before the tragic events that resulted in the demise of the noble dwarven nation. Young Asura was turning the pages, thinking. “I know how to use a bow, and my father taught me how to fight with a sword. I believe I could survive in the wilderness, I know how to prepare food out of most edible things… excluding mushrooms, I hate them with passion… and turnips! Nobody likes turnips! And I would probably be able to make a living during my travels with my jewelcrafting skills – people of Tyria love shiny trinkets, be it bookahs or leaf-skins, catmen or the half-giants… heck, this could work!”
“But… it won’t be Froonk the Useless, who will be doing that. No, Froonk died two weeks ago, humiliated, fired from the Fire Throwers by that madman, Woom. From now on, I shall be known as…” – Asura quickly flicked through the book, looking for his favourite chapter. “Kree Manov! Great human ranger from days of old, a long-forgotten savior of Tyria, Cantha and Elona, Bane of the Great Destroyer and friend to Gwen Thackeray, immortalised by dwarves in their chronicles! Yes! Under his name will I venture from now on! Heck, that’s right! I’ll travel the length and breadth of Tyria, studying Tyria’s wildlife and exploring pristine lands! And then, at the autumn of my life, I shall write a book. Or two. Or thirteen! And it’s gonna be an absolutely legendary punch in the face of those narrow-minded brethren of mine!” Feeling like a true hero, with his heart set on fire and wild zeal in his eyes, young Asura tried to spit, just like the Norn do before attacking. Sadly, it didn’t work – his wide lips were not used to spitting like a drunk Norn. Undiscouraged, he wiped his mouth.
Reborn after 250 years, Kree Manov closed his eyes. He didn’t know what to expect from the road that lied before him, but there was no turning back – Froonk the Useless was no more. Kree took a deep breath, inhaling damp air, smelling of an unspoken promise… and a wet pig.
The would-be hero looked down, surprised, and noticed a large, furry boar with disproportionately small tusks, standing in front of him. Oink, a young boar Mistress Zinga gave him right before he joined Fire Throwers, was staring at him, with intelligence gleaming in its eyes. Kree blinked. The boar blinked back. Embarassed, Asura looked around, and whispered: “Erm, Oink, weren’t you supposed to be locked up in my laboratory?!”. The boar oinked happily, turned around and walked a few yards, waving his short tail. Feeling rather awkard, Asura didn’t move, whistling and pretending not to be engaged in a conversation with a pig. The boar stopped, looked back and grunted impatiently. Still shocked, Kree frowned and followed Oink, slowly realising his long, yet slightly unexpected journey is about to begin.
On a nearby platform, hidden behind a disabled security golem, Mistress Zinga smiled heartily.
I had fun once. It was awful.
