Maidens and Bandits All Topsy Turvy {Open/Twins}

[Mjollnir]

This had been a rather depressing trip. No… That wasn’t right. There had been only one minor occurrence which shifted the overall enjoyment of the trip to that of something far less than enjoyable. Socrates had heard from his little furred friends that there had been a sighting of the “shades” or so Mjollnir had decided to call them, near a small town in the Maditant Plains. So the undead cat and the man had hurried to the source and been… Close to rewarded. They had arrived the day after the sighting and the memory of the “shades” were still very vivid in the woman’s mind. They interviewed her, and discovering nothing new, did as they always did at the scene of a “haunting”. Mjollnir summoned and spoke to the spirits that may have seen the “shades” while Socrates tried to extract information from the feline population of the town.
In this case, they found something interesting. One of the oldest spirits of the town had vanished on the night the “shades” appeared. It may have had nothing to do with their appearance, but it was a clue of some sort at least. Socrates learned several things about the residents of the town, but nothing useful in regards to the “shades”. Still, Mjollnir and Socrates were satisfied with their trip to the town… Until the bandits attacked. It was bothersome to say the least. The brutes ransacked the town and threatened the residents, vowing to return the next day.

“You know, Socrates… We could just fry those pathetic dullards’ minds with my magic and then we could just leave. It would make everything so much easier.” Mjollnir was in a storage shed that the bandits had magickally sealed. He sat upon a crate filled with who-knew-what and played with his fingers, trying to catch the fingers on his right hand with the fingers on his left. “Just a zap there… A small shock there… And BAM!” A small chuckle escaped him, “It would be so easy.”

“Mjollnir, if this cat has said unto thee once, this cat shall say unto thee again: one as powerful as thee must restrain oneself for honor, justice, and to keep the boredom at bay.” The cat, Socrates, was calmly cleaning himself. They had had this conversation at least one hundred and thirty two times in the last decade. After Mjollnir was finally able to understand the cat without flaw, Socrates had convinced him that he was to be Mjollnir’s caretaker and keep him upon the path of justice, honor, and sanity. Socrates kept his promises and never let Mjollnir slip to far into his madness. Though it was often difficult, the cat was an excellent caretaker. It had been decided some time ago that, while Mjollnir would continue his necromancy training, he would refrain from using his skills on the weak, keeping everything within a balance of powers.

“Yes, yes, you’re right, of course. He’s always right, don’t you know? You should know that by now. Socrates is the most intelligent cat that you’ve ever met! He is? He is. I didn’t doubt-“ A sharp yowl snapped Mjollnir back into reality. “Ah yes. Then… What should we do, my little friend? If I am to keep myself within the limits we have set… We could dig out of here with a spoon! That would take awhile… But it would be so fulfilling.” Mjollnir made a fist and smashed it into his open hand, “It’s decided then! We’ll-“

“Wait for the maiden to rescue us from this magickless confine.”

“What’s that, Socrates? A maiden? Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around… Yes. Yes I think it is. The prince saves the maiden! Saves? Slaves? Salves? Sails? What was I saying? Rutabaga. Of course! The toxins in the blood are caused by a tiny creature… Like a-“ Socrate’s mew broke Mjollnir’s train of “thought”. “Right. Who is this girl then? When is she coming? Because I’m fairly certain those brutes will kill me the next time they decide to raid this town.”

Socrates had finished cleaning his fur and raised one of his eyebrows, “The maiden cometh soon.”

[/size]