Excerpts from the Diary of a Henchminion:
A Fantasy Spoof
By Sherwood Smith
© 2006
Summoned,
posted to Zorgon's castle yestereve.
Looks
good. Ancient stonework--cool--damp--busy dungeon. Pretty sure
I've seen Nargul, Zorgon's toady, before. The rest of the lads
seem a decent lot--average burliness, medium ugly, all fun-loving.
Stood
around the dungeon swilling beer and exchanging coarse jokes while
the new prisoners were brought in. Promising first day.
***
Night
duty at Zorgon's chamber. Quiet (except for Zorgon's snores).
Morning, Zorgon had the tailor in, ordered half a dozen more regulation
Evil Wizard black robes. Good sign, I thought.
Nargul
scuttled in--scratching his hump--asked for the day's orders.
"Have
you doubled the taxes throughout every land?" Zorgon asked.
"Yeth,
mathter."
"Oppressed
the peasants?"
"Yeth,
mathter."
"Scorched
and raped the earth?"
"Yeth,
mathter."
"Sent
my Army of Darkness to conquer another land?"
"Jutht
sent, o mathter."
Zorgon
rubbed his hands. "Then let's get down to the dungeon and
see how the tortures are coming along."
Just
like the good old days with Zyrdynyr at Ravenstalon Castle, and
Z'ac'th'or at TalonRaven Keep before him. I hope this post lasts
longer than those did.
***
Damn.
My stubble looks too much like a beard, and the Sergeant hit me
with doling out the regulation prisoner-slop. Don't like the looks
of the prisoner in cell 247-A. Kept quelling me with his piercing
blue eyes.
***
Night
duty at the dungeon--card playing and grunting crude jokes. This
is a very good post, except for that prisoner in 247-A. I'm suspicious.
Some of the vets are too, but the rookies won't listen.
***
Duty,
Zorgon's chambers. He put in some time muttering dark spells over
his crystal, then a few of the boys brought that prisoner up.
Zorgon pulled a nifty little blade from a collection in the carved
trunk. When I got an eyeful of the elven carving on its haft,
and the glowing sapphire gemstone, uh oh, I thought. Looks bad.
Zorgon
waved the sword around while making a top-grade sinister speech.
Good invective-control, nice detail in the personal threats, plenty
of reach in the future gloom aspect.
No
reaction from the prisoner--no sign of a grovel, but no speech
of defiance. Eyes flashed blue fire once or twice, and the two
times I forgot to stand behind him his gaze pierced me, once on
the ear and once on the side of my nose. Bad sign? His rags are
grubby farmwear--no hint of princely raiment. This could go either
way.
***
Rec
shift ducked out to a wayside inn for a quick beer. Found Nargul
there.
"Dark
Fortreth of Zaech'rawn, right?" he said.
I
snapped my fingers. "No, it was Zunthor's Evil Keep."
"That'th
it." He saluted me, then downed his beer. "Nearly ten
good yearth we had there."
"Henchwork
at its best," I said, with deep regret.
After
we got axed, turned out he went on to Zornhawk when I got detailed
to Zangharad. I'd heard about Zornhawk. Lousy post.
Agreed
we ought to do what we can to make this post last.
***
Damn.
Nargul
five-fingered some gold from Zargon's stash. Both of us tried
247-A, wearing goggles to avoid getting eye-stabbed, blazed, or
flashed. Nargul came on with the promises of power, magic spells,
etc, me with cold cash. Bastard not interested.
Damn.
***
"Way
I see it is, we off him."
Snorgle,
Grunch, the Krapp brothers, and a few of the other vets met me
at the inn next rec period.
Shook
my head.
"Guess
you haven't been around as long as we have," Grunch said.
"What's
the problem?" Pilch asked. "Nothing to it--we simply
slip something into his food. He gets the trots, we go shovel
the corpse out after a week or two. No confrontation."
Grunch
and I both shook our heads.
"You
don't understand," I said. "He'll just nobly refuse
to eat.
"So
what if we all go in there--"
"Then
he pierces us with his flashing blue eyes, and we practically
get croaked," Snorgle snarled.
Hurts,
I said, rubbing my nose.
Like
a zillion beethtingth, Nargul added.
Pilch
drained off his beer and sat back, picking at his teeth. Any yellower,
those teeth, and he'd be promoted for sure.
Glanced
out the window just then. "Look." I pointed.
We
all stared at the group of people making their way down the middle
of the street through all the guards, downtrodden serfs, and nameless
rabble. Signs were clear as a roadpost: short guy with beard,
tall one with cloak masking face. Worst of all, slim one in boy's
attire, single golden tendril escaping from a hood that didn't
hide the outline of an elvish ear.
I
wonder if shes got an apostrophe in her name, Grunch
muttered with a sour look after them. Then he shook his head.
Emerald eyes. At least three apostrophes for sure. Bad news
for us.
"Crap,
I said.
The
brothers jumped. Then sighed.
***
They
got inside the castle.
The
elvish swordmaiden alone killed 19 guards. All rookies, of course--rest
of us kept busy elsewhere.
***
Zorgon
put me on detail guarding outside the cell of 247-A. Snorgle and
I both heard voices--the swordmaiden had mysteriously gotten in.
Looks like our boy is a prince in disguise, raised as an orphan
on a distant farm.
Damn.
***
They
attacked at midnight, yelling Elvish gibberish.
I
quailed away along with Smelch and Snorgle. Right after his mysterious
escape, 247-A took out 90 guys, and that's before he got to Zorgon's
room and found the sword.
Zorgon
spotted us, ordered us to retreat to the tower for the last stand.
Damn, damn, damn.
300
of us on hand for the end. 250 lads on the stairs hacked by 247-A
and his four followers. At least they didn't have to hear the
speeches. Swordmaiden kept spouting prophesies in bad poetry--worst
I'd heard since my stint at Z'ya'chul of RavynsBlaize Tor.
247-A stuck with the standards: "Thus is my father avenged,"
and "Begone, foul wraith."
He
looked at my butt! Nargul yelped. He looked at my
butt! Ouch, he added, rubbing a much- pierced buttcheek
as 247-A hashed Zorgon.
Before
the elf girl stabbed Nargul, I overheard the old vet toady muttering,
"At leatht we get all the good curtheth."
Last
dozen of us taken on by the old guy. Pretty burly--wonder if he'd
done some henchwork before hopping the fence.
Got
to parry twice before the swordstroke right through my neck.
Damn.
Really hate that part.
***
Summoned
back to life, posted to Zorndeth's fortress midnight today.
Black
stone, eternal winter, good variety of orcs, goblins, trolls.
Hope
it lasts.