Rancid Chronicles: part 2

[Lo Ki]

I was seated before a roaring fire, immune to the roaring wind outside. A storm was coming in off the ocean and dumping huge amounts of snow on the city. If not for the generosity of my short benefactor yesterday, I would be bundled and shivering by a flame barely large enough to heat a cup of water. Confident that no one would be out in this weather, I had not bothered to open my shop today. The door was bolted against the storm.

A sudden blast of wind chilled the room and sent papers flying. I bolted out of my chair to see what was wrong. I was just in time to see a short figure push the door closed and shove the bolt home. I was dumb-struck. How had he opened the door? I was sure it had been securely bolted.

My small visitor brushed the snow from his cloak as he walked past me and settled in the chair I had just vacated. “Got anything hot to drink?” he asked. He waited patiently while I found a cup and poured some tea from the small kettle I kept by the fire. As he accepted the cup he began to speak.

“In this city I am known as Rancid.” He paused while I went to my desk and pulled out ink and parchment. As I began to write, he continued. “When I left my childhood home, I also left behind my given name. I used the name Drake for several years until I had a falling out with some unforgiving comrades. After that, I found it best to change names frequently; so, I acquired the habit of using a different name in every town and city I visited.

In those days I found a perverse joy in assaulting people’s sensibilities. I didn’t bathe and I developed the ability to belch and fart almost at will. The names I used reflected my philosophy: Belch, Barf, Crud, Puke, and so on. I would try to say or do the most inappropriate things at the most inappropriate times. In fact, I studied etiquette so that I would know just what to say or do and when to do it. I could get pretty disgusting at times.

Most times my companions were amused or at least tolerant; but, there was one time even they had had enough. Entering one town at the wrong time, we were all drafted into the local army to defend against some marauding ogres. I’ve never had much respect for authority, but I had managed to hold out for nearly three hours before I ran afoul of the rules. My punishment was mucking out the latrines. In the process I acquired an aroma even my companions could not abide. They seized me and tossed me in a horse trough to clean me up. Unfortunately for them I wore a magical ring gained earlier in my career; it allows me to walk on water. I used its powers when they tried to dunk me. The water in the trough splashed all over them while I was left high and dry. I slipped from their grasp and escaped, leaving them wet and stinking from wrestling with me. They never tried that again.

That ring vexed them again some months later when our adventures took us into the sewers of this very city. They were forced to slog through knee-deep sewage while I walked on top of it. The language they used would have curled your ears! It was most amusing. I have acquired several other useful items in my travels, and each of them has at least one story attached.”

Rancid sat quietly for a few more minutes before rising. He pulled his cloak close as he headed for the door. When he opened the door, the wind blew back his hood and forced him to squint against its cold force. “You should really get better locks,” he said before disappearing into the storm.

When I went to wash his cup, I found another of those strange gold coins inside of it. I'm going to be rich!