Durkon/Demon Roaches

"Durkon, what did you do before you became a Cleric?" Elan suddenly asked the Dwarf one evening.

"Eh?" Durkon arched an eyebrow, looking up from the campfire he'd been tending. "What d' ya mean?"

"I dunno," Elan shrugged. "I was just curious to see if you had some sort of secret past, or hidden background, or dark secret that drove you to take up the Cleric's shield in order to atone for your sins!" he grinned naively.

"You're an idiot…" Vaarsuvius, who was levitating a few feet away, remarked off-handedly from the depths of her trance.

"Er…" Durkon frowned, "I'm not really sure that thar's anythin' worth mentionin'. I mean… I suppose thar was tha time I took a pert-time job ta pay for my schoolin…"

"Ooooooh…" Elan leaned in, enthralled by the possibility of an interesting background revelation. "What was it like?"

"Wellllll…" Durkon mused.


"Okay, lemme check the basement…" Durkon nodded to the owner of the home he was cleansing of vermin. Clad in a red jumpsuit, his bushy hair trapped poking out from under his gas mask in random tufts, the Dwarf staggered towards the door to the basement. With such a large tank of pesticide on his back, he often had trouble keeping his balance. Opening the door, he saw only darkness beneath beneath him. Slowly, he stuck his foot out, and upon finding the stairs began his descent.

It didn't take him long, though, to lose his balance and stumble down the stairs, each stair he smashed against causing him to yelp in pain and surprise. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the Dwarf hit the floor, and found himself sprawled out on the ground in absolute darkness. Staggering to his feet, the Dwarf reached into his side-pack and pulled out a sunrod. Smacking it against his gas mask a few times, the magical forces inside the item finally kicked in, and its warm glow instantly revealed the contents of the room.

The room was alive. Every square inch was a pulsating red mess, thousands upon thousands of demon roaches crawling and skittering over every exposed surface. All as one, they froze, and swiftly turned to stare at the exterminator. Dead silence fell as the Dwarf and the roaches stared at each other. Almost instantly, Durkon knew he was in trouble. His eyes wide in shock, he looked around, trying to see what the roaches were planning to do. However, the moment he heard one single, solitary snicker from a distant corner… he knew it was time to run.

The uncoordinated Dwarf began to stagger towards the stairs, but it was too late. "WE GOT A LIVE ONE!!" one Demon roach screamed. Almost instantly the room exploded into screams, cheers, and laughter, and a flood of crimson raced towards Durkon from all sides. "GO FOR HIS FEET!!" one voice screamed. "KNOCK HIM OFF BALANCE!!" another chimed. "I CALL HIS TOOOES!!" another screamed.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" Durkon screamed as his feet were pulled out from under him, just as he made it to the stairs. "NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! NNOOOOOOO-" his screams were silenced quickly by a suffocating mass of mischevious daemonic insects.


Durkon twitched noticeably. He then turned towards Elan and said, "Y'know, boy, I think ya might like it. Perhaps ya should look inta it sometime…"

"Okay!" Elan grinned gleefully. "I could use some extra GP…"

"Just be sure to put it ta good use," Durkon replied. He then added under his breath: "I spent mine on therapy…"

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