Plot Armor

Titled Part 3

The dawn brought with it the sun rising over the great evil in the east. The company woke up one by one, all groggy from a bad night's sleep - sleeping under a rock, in the open, after listening to each others' biography late into the night is not a recipe for being well rested. Except Jimbruce. He had had a goodnight's sleep. Jimbruce had his priorities straight.

After they had freshened up as best as they could and had some leftovers from the previous dinner for breakfast, the company gathered together for one last time. They were going to decide who among them would go forth to face the enemy in the heart of darkness, and who would go home (or on other quests relevant to the main quest). Magenx (previously known as Fladnag and Dumbledaf) stood in the middle and others formed a tight circle around him.

"Lets get this over with", said well rested Jimbruce, impatient even after a goodnight's sleep.

"Calm down Gimli" said the usually quiet Mattelad in his sweet voice, "Jimbruce", he corrected himself.

"Its no easy task", began Magenx, "to wilfully choose the chosen ones. It is usually destiny, prophecies, or being at the wrong place at the wrong time that generally makes the perfect chosen ones. Chosen ones chosen by consensus rarely are successful, and often enough are but foils that teach us how we shouldn't try to take destiny into our own hands."

"Please Mr Wizard", interjected From, "We don't need an early morning lecture. I'm tired as it is. Just tell us what to do." All of the company (except Magenx) murmured approval for this.

"Very well then", said Magenx, "I listened to all your stories yesternight, and I have solid opinions on who all should go forth in this quest. However, I shall not state them out loud, for they very well might become means for an ironic end. Having thought long and hard, I have come to the conclusion we shall do this the old fashioned way", Magenx took a pause for dramatic effect and looked around the gathered heroes, "We shall", said Magenx reaching into the folds of his robe and taking out a fistful of straw, "draw straws"

Magenx took another pause to let his anti-climatic decision sink in, and continued "There are six of us. I have in my fist five normal and three short straws. We each shall draw a straw, and whoever gets the short straws will be the chosen one. The company of the chosen one, will thus be a minimum of one person and a maximum of three people, as the fates decide. Who all draws the short straw, they shall ventures forth. They shall meet head to head with the great... "

"...evil rising in the east" completed everyone in spontaneous chorus.

Magenx was taken aback for a moment, and then chuckled. "Lets get on with it then", he said. Magenx bent his tall body and extended his fist with straws to impatient Jimbruce first. Jimbruce, impatient as ever, quickly reached out his hand.

"Wait!" came a plain voice from outside.

The company turned to look at the source of the disruption to their proceedings. Just outside their overhanging rock stood a man. He wore plain clothes, had plain features, had a plain face and was plain in general.

"Who comes?" asked Magenx, standing back up straight.

"My name is Bob", said Bob, in his plain voice.

"Might just as well be Mr Plainter", sniggered Sado.

"And business do you have with us", asked Magenx, ignoring Sado.

"I had this irresistible urge", said Bob plainly, "to bring someone to you. We surreptitiously bumped into each other the other day, and had a deep calling to meet the company here. We have been travelling hard the past few days, to arrive here at dawn. You must include us too in your quest."

"What a plain in the ass" muttered Sado, and then burst out laughing. Everyone ignored him.

"Who is it that accompanies you", asked Vainin in his deep manly voice, "We see none but you."

Bob turned around in a motion that was best described as plain, and gestured with his rather unremarkable hand, "I present to you, as promised, Lady Sikam!"

The company, as one, looked behind the plain man. They saw none but the vast plains extending behind him. Except Jimbruce. He saw Lady Sikam first.

"She's..."he said, his usually impatient words now slowly rolling off his lips, his usually impatient voice now filled with awe, "... she's... beautiful..."

"Thank you my dear", came a sweet yet strong voice. Those who hadn't seen her (everyone except Jimbruce and Bob that is) suddenly lowered their eyes to the source of the sound, and saw her. They had all been, as improbable as it seems, looking at the wrong height and had thus missed her completely, for, Lady Sikam, was a dwarf.

Lady Sikam had cheeks chubby as a perfectly ripe apple and her chin dimpled like a rain drop frozen in time; her lips were the vibrant color of a rose in full bloom, her eyes the blue of frozen winter; when she smiled her teeth were the whitest of pearls, and her curly hair, which despite being worn in a tight and high ponytail spilled gracefully over her shoulders, was darkest of nights. She had a lithe, athletic yet elegant figure, and wore armour that looked, paradoxically, intricate delicate and practical all at once. She was an angelic figure, a once-in-a-generation beauty and there was almost nothing to give away that she was indeed a dwarf – except for her height, and thick orange neckbeard.

Everyone in the company had a hard time trying to figure out how to react to Lady Sikam. No one of them had felt such intense mental turmoil for as long as they could remember. Not even the wizard Magenx, nor the immortal elf.

Everyone, that is, except Jimbruce. Jimbruce had his priorities straight.

"Oh.. my.. God", he whispered to himself, smitten.