FRAGMENTED (part XI)
Created | Updated Nov 16, 2003
Episode 11: The BaxTricks
The line to the large shack of a coach-ticket cubicle was movely slowly. There were infact eight ticket booths joined together in a row, but only one of them was 'manned'. By a young blonde girl.
Regardless of the queue size, there was only ever one cubicle serving, and many in the line were just needing referal to the cart service a few feet across the depot.
'Depot' was the wrong word for it. There was no roof or walls for a start. The ground was actually a bit of farmland that had been converted with the lingering faint smell of dung around the mainly cement floor that held a few big coaches, and numerous carts (with different numbers painted on the side) for local routes.
Away from that were the stables, untouched in the conversion, which left the surrounding ground a hardend yellow with hay scattered in many different places.
'Sho hang on.' Baxter began as he and Robin' took one step forward in the slow moving line.
'Yes?' asked Robin'.
'You're shupposhed to be all powerful, right?'
Oh, here we go, Robin' thought. He let out a 'Mm' to signify yes.
'Then why washn't I put in Proshprush inshtead of back here?'
'Universal red tape.'
'When We took you out of the Shattered Skull, it left a gap that needed to be filled- a continuity hole as it were, where an event has to be explained. The universe has rules.
'Since relatively little time passed here, your sudden disappearance, though welcomed, and subsequent reappearance is instant in relation to an hour or so, thus needs to be justified.
'If We'd put you in Prosprus, there'd need to be a how you got there, who you interacted with and what effect that had on them, and so on in a large chain reaction leaving a lot of loose bits to clear up.'
Baxter took a few minutes to absorb this, then said 'Sho how do you exshplain me being in Hypokrit Shtreet?'
Somebody in the queue groaned as the conversation continued. No matter what the subject, in a crowded space, everybody finds other people's conversing extremely boring.
'That's simple,' said the deity. 'Mr. K'trl already thought it was the alchohol was drinking - a hangover got rid of the previous night by 95% - and ogres don't want or have the brains to question these kinds of things.
'Besides,' Robin' smiled a bit, 'at night, everyone avoid a drunk.'
'Okay then, why me?' Baxter began to prepare for a battle. 'And why didn't you jusht go to Proshprush?'
The line marched another step forward.
'First of all, you were the most... convienient. Secondly, We couldn't trust that you'd go without encouragement even when you thought you were going alone. Plus, I wanted a look at this world.'
'You're shupposhed to be all-sheeing!' Baxter sneered.
'Yes,' countered Robin', 'but not from this perspective.'
'Shall I jusht shtop ashking?'
'Would you?'
Eventually the line was worn down enough to bring the two to the front.
The blonde woman shuffled around a bit inside her wooden box, then announced politely and fluently, 'Now serving nimber six'. Looking down, Baxter saw the number six scraped into the wooden panelling.
'Yes?' the woman said flatly, losing all the petiteness in her announcement.
'How much for the two of ush to get to Proshprush?' Baxter thumbed to himself and Robin'.
'No coaches go to Prosprus.' stated the attendant.
'Nearesht to there?'
'Only go as far as Marea.'
'How much?'
'One del, forty-six each.' [Take it how you will that a bottle of water is more expensive than getting out of Citadel.]
Removing the only two dels he had from his pocket, Baxter fingered them a little before looking at Robin' with a shrug.
'Excuse me, dear lady,' Robin' brushed past Baxter who put his nose between thumb and forefinger. 'Is there any chance that we could both go for two dels?'
The woman eyed the deity up and down. She was in no mood to be referred to as 'dear lady'.
'Fine,' she said, dripping with sarcasm. 'Since I like you so much, you can go for free and your mate there,' Quick jab of a long finger-nail, 'can pay twice the single fee.'
'That'sh okay, we don't want shpeshial treatment.' Baxter lisped, handing the two coins over. 'One for him pleashe.'
Once a ticket and 41 cits were passed back, Baxter pocketed the change and gave Robin' the ticket. 'You get on the coach, I'll think of shomehing...'
As Robin' boarded the coach with a 'Citadel/Marea' sign out the window, Baxter sneaked his way around to end up to the vehicle's front where two animals stood proud.
They weren't horses though. Horses had been made extinct during the Dog Rush years.
In place where two lizards - dracmares - with yellow scales and green eyes. A green frill acted like a mane on their heads.
Built and acted like horses they had better stamina, better speed, better teeth, with two stumps on the back where evolution's dragon-plans had been given up.
Thish ish my lasht chanshe to be rid of him, Baxter thought, his head probably swelling with spittle.
Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he smacked the nearest dracmare on the rear.
The reptile reared up, then turned around, kicking Baxter hard in the stomach sending him into across the ground.
'...Ow.'
'You gettin' on?' asked a dwarf, pulling up his trousers as he stepped out of a latrine, taking the driver's position just above the mighty steeds.
'I shupposhe...' Baxter winced as he pulled himself into the coach and positioned himself on a seat next to Robin'.
Apart from another man reading the 'Thick Scroll', the coach was empty.
'This is comfortable, isn't it?' said Robin' as he happily bounced to test the seat.
Baxter tried to shush him but it was too late.
'Is it? I'm so sorry!' came the dwarf's genuine concerned voice from the roof outside.
Muffled sounds were heard as the driver plopped down onto the ground and climbed under the coach, loosening an axel.
The coach heavily dropped on one corner.
'Better?' asked the driver's voice.
'Yesh.. Thank you.' sighed Baxter trying to maintain balance.
A whip cracked, the dracmares' claws clicked across the ground and the coach slowly bounced its way out of Citadel.
The line to the large shack of a coach-ticket cubicle was movely slowly. There were infact eight ticket booths joined together in a row, but only one of them was 'manned'. By a young blonde girl.
Regardless of the queue size, there was only ever one cubicle serving, and many in the line were just needing referal to the cart service a few feet across the depot.
'Depot' was the wrong word for it. There was no roof or walls for a start. The ground was actually a bit of farmland that had been converted with the lingering faint smell of dung around the mainly cement floor that held a few big coaches, and numerous carts (with different numbers painted on the side) for local routes.
Away from that were the stables, untouched in the conversion, which left the surrounding ground a hardend yellow with hay scattered in many different places.
'Sho hang on.' Baxter began as he and Robin' took one step forward in the slow moving line.
'Yes?' asked Robin'.
'You're shupposhed to be all powerful, right?'
Oh, here we go, Robin' thought. He let out a 'Mm' to signify yes.
'Then why washn't I put in Proshprush inshtead of back here?'
'Universal red tape.'
'When We took you out of the Shattered Skull, it left a gap that needed to be filled- a continuity hole as it were, where an event has to be explained. The universe has rules.
'Since relatively little time passed here, your sudden disappearance, though welcomed, and subsequent reappearance is instant in relation to an hour or so, thus needs to be justified.
'If We'd put you in Prosprus, there'd need to be a how you got there, who you interacted with and what effect that had on them, and so on in a large chain reaction leaving a lot of loose bits to clear up.'
Baxter took a few minutes to absorb this, then said 'Sho how do you exshplain me being in Hypokrit Shtreet?'
Somebody in the queue groaned as the conversation continued. No matter what the subject, in a crowded space, everybody finds other people's conversing extremely boring.
'That's simple,' said the deity. 'Mr. K'trl already thought it was the alchohol was drinking - a hangover got rid of the previous night by 95% - and ogres don't want or have the brains to question these kinds of things.
'Besides,' Robin' smiled a bit, 'at night, everyone avoid a drunk.'
'Okay then, why me?' Baxter began to prepare for a battle. 'And why didn't you jusht go to Proshprush?'
The line marched another step forward.
'First of all, you were the most... convienient. Secondly, We couldn't trust that you'd go without encouragement even when you thought you were going alone. Plus, I wanted a look at this world.'
'You're shupposhed to be all-sheeing!' Baxter sneered.
'Yes,' countered Robin', 'but not from this perspective.'
'Shall I jusht shtop ashking?'
'Would you?'
Eventually the line was worn down enough to bring the two to the front.
The blonde woman shuffled around a bit inside her wooden box, then announced politely and fluently, 'Now serving nimber six'. Looking down, Baxter saw the number six scraped into the wooden panelling.
'Yes?' the woman said flatly, losing all the petiteness in her announcement.
'How much for the two of ush to get to Proshprush?' Baxter thumbed to himself and Robin'.
'No coaches go to Prosprus.' stated the attendant.
'Nearesht to there?'
'Only go as far as Marea.'
'How much?'
'One del, forty-six each.' [Take it how you will that a bottle of water is more expensive than getting out of Citadel.]
Removing the only two dels he had from his pocket, Baxter fingered them a little before looking at Robin' with a shrug.
'Excuse me, dear lady,' Robin' brushed past Baxter who put his nose between thumb and forefinger. 'Is there any chance that we could both go for two dels?'
The woman eyed the deity up and down. She was in no mood to be referred to as 'dear lady'.
'Fine,' she said, dripping with sarcasm. 'Since I like you so much, you can go for free and your mate there,' Quick jab of a long finger-nail, 'can pay twice the single fee.'
'That'sh okay, we don't want shpeshial treatment.' Baxter lisped, handing the two coins over. 'One for him pleashe.'
Once a ticket and 41 cits were passed back, Baxter pocketed the change and gave Robin' the ticket. 'You get on the coach, I'll think of shomehing...'
As Robin' boarded the coach with a 'Citadel/Marea' sign out the window, Baxter sneaked his way around to end up to the vehicle's front where two animals stood proud.
They weren't horses though. Horses had been made extinct during the Dog Rush years.
In place where two lizards - dracmares - with yellow scales and green eyes. A green frill acted like a mane on their heads.
Built and acted like horses they had better stamina, better speed, better teeth, with two stumps on the back where evolution's dragon-plans had been given up.
Thish ish my lasht chanshe to be rid of him, Baxter thought, his head probably swelling with spittle.
Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he smacked the nearest dracmare on the rear.
The reptile reared up, then turned around, kicking Baxter hard in the stomach sending him into across the ground.
'...Ow.'
'You gettin' on?' asked a dwarf, pulling up his trousers as he stepped out of a latrine, taking the driver's position just above the mighty steeds.
'I shupposhe...' Baxter winced as he pulled himself into the coach and positioned himself on a seat next to Robin'.
Apart from another man reading the 'Thick Scroll', the coach was empty.
'This is comfortable, isn't it?' said Robin' as he happily bounced to test the seat.
Baxter tried to shush him but it was too late.
'Is it? I'm so sorry!' came the dwarf's genuine concerned voice from the roof outside.
Muffled sounds were heard as the driver plopped down onto the ground and climbed under the coach, loosening an axel.
The coach heavily dropped on one corner.
'Better?' asked the driver's voice.
'Yesh.. Thank you.' sighed Baxter trying to maintain balance.
A whip cracked, the dracmares' claws clicked across the ground and the coach slowly bounced its way out of Citadel.
