This is one of two stories I wrote a wile ago. The first one was supposed to be a one off based off a simple and immature joke, this is the second and a lot more mature. Now I have two more almost done. If I’m going to make these are series I can’t just name the character after their classes so I gave the characters real names and did some rewriting.
“Fireball!” The mighty wizard Wymond Adelina yelled, casting a spell from as far from the fighting as he could. The stealthy rogue Azra Scott snuck behind the Bandit leader, stabbing them six times before he knew what happened. The holy cleric, Annelie Ian Sean summed a floating log that knocked two bandits into a tree, slammed her mace into another bandit’s head, all while giggling. Marcus Miand the muscular fighter ran into battle screaming, slicing through bandits with his sword. The battle finished, the bandits fled, taking their dead and wounded, dropping a sword with an ornate sheath.
“That was fun.” Marcus said.
“I got to fireball people.” Wymond giggled.
Azra picked up the sword. “It looks nice, let’s hawk it.”
Annelie took the sword from Azra, “No, we were tasked with returning it.”
“Is it magic?” Marcus asked.
“Detect magic.” Wymond cast, “Nope.”
“Let me see that.” Marcus requested. He took the sword and unsheathed it.
“He told us to leave it in the sheath.” Annelie protested.
“We’ll blame any damage on the bandits.”
“I like lying.” Azra said, she looked at Wymond , “You’re smart,” looked at Marcus, “You’re sexy.”
“I am smart!” Wymond replied.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen myself in a mirror.” Marcus replied, “Let’s see how sharp it is!” Marcus swung the sword at a two foot wide tree, the sword cut through it like it wasn’t even there.
The party ran from the falling tree. They looked at the stump sliced diagonally.
“Marcus lifted the sword. ”That is a-” he was interrupted by a falling branch.
“Let me see.” Azra said, she grabbed his hand holding the sword, and looked at the edge of the blade. “Oww!” She yelled, covered her eye, blood ran down her face.
Annelie sighed, “I got it.”
“Marcus, what the hell?” Wymond exclaimed.
“I didn’t touch her!” Marcus turned towards Wymond , Wymond s arm came off with a spray of blood. Wymond screamed, “Oh my god!” Marcus yelled.
“Just don’t let the arm roll away, I’ll reattach it in a moment.” Annelie said. “There, with only a tiny scar.”
“That’s a lot of blood!” Panicked Wymond .
“Great, an identifying feature.” Azra replied to Annelie .
“I’m coming, calm down.” Annelie told Wymond .
“Everyone on this side of me!” Marcus yelled, holding the sword blade down pointing to the side of him opposite the sword.
“My arm!” Wymond exclaimed.
“I’m putting it back on.” Annelie told Wymond .
“Get the sheath.” Marcus yelled.
“I got it, I’m coming!” Azra yelled
“What about all that blood?” Whimpered Wymond .
“Just eat a cookie and have some juice, you’ll be fine.” Annelie told the whimpering Wymond
Azra reached Marcus with the sheath. “Gently.” She told him, “Careful, I don’t want to cut you in half.” he replied. They slowly resheathed the sword, until the sheath split in half. “Oh crap!” Marcus yelled, and Azra ran backwards.
“On this side of me!” Marcus repeated to Azra, pointed to his side opposite the sword. She ran to the opposite side.
“What do we do now?” Annelie asked.
“I don’t know I don’t have enough blood to think.” Wymond responded,
Annelie sighed and bit her lip.
Marcus looked at their surroundings, seeing a rock, “I have an idea!” He motioned to the others to stay on that side of him, “Stay opposite the sword.” he ordered. He slowly walked towards the rock, the others staying opposite the sword. He plunged the sword into the rock, turned towards Wymond and ordered: “Put a spell on that so no one can take it out.”
Wymond took out a spell book, “If I have enough blood left to think.” he said as he flipped the pages of the book.
“Just cast the damn spell!” Annelie exclaimed, “if you want more blood you can have the blood I have down there!” she pointed to her crotch.
Wymond reached towards the sword in the stone, said the magic words “Stay, staaay,” he paused, “stay,” pause, “stay!”
The sword in the stone glowed for a moment.
“Will it hold?” Marcus asked.
“As long as someone doesn’t repeatedly pull on it.”
“I wonder if I have a spell to restore my blood.” Wymond said as he flipped through his book.
“Shut up!” Marcus and Azra yelled. “You’re fine!” Marcus told Wymond .
“What do we tell the guy?” Annelie asked.
“We’ll say the bandits did it.” Azra replied.
A hundred years later many people were gathered around the sword, trying to pull it out. The current man trying grunted as he pulled on the sword.
“Dude, you’ve been trying for twenty minutes, let someone else have a turn.”
“Shut up!” The man replied.
Bending, twisting, and jerking on the sword, with a grunt that turned into a scream, he finally pulled it out. With a large smile, he raised the sword into the air proclaiming; “I am now king!” A branch fell in front of him, missing him by two feet. He lowered the sword, a man ten feet to his right screamed, with a gash down his torso. “That’s weird.” the new king said. Not caring he examined his new sword, turning it to look at the edge blood sprayed from his neck and his head fell off.
Image by Ryszard Porzynski from Pixabay
C.L. Who Writes 
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