The Saga of the O.G.
Chapter 13 - Calculators and other Insults
Somewhere in the Forest that rested on the outskirts of New Tristram, a young Melkor stood with his back to a tree, his breath bursting forth from his nostrils in the form of Frost, despite it being just after midnight on a late summer evening. He leaned to the left and listened. He heard nothing, but felt a breeze roll in just as he stuck his ear out from behind the tree trunk. As the small gust drew to a closure, a voice seemed to cling to its tail, as if it had hitched a ride.
"You're IMBA, Melkor. That is why frost billows from your nose, despite the hot summer air!"
Melkor quickly stood up straight behind the tree and tried to slow his breathing. He couldn't. Suddenly, the tree burst into flames. Melkor jumped from the tree a few steps before quickly teleporting to a nearby Great Oak, about 22 yards away. He again turned to look back at the tree he had just abandoned. To his astonishment, the Oak was smoking, but not on fire.
Melkor was disoriented, and confused. From his far left, he again heard the fell voice.
"Tell me..." Melkor looked into the darkness, but could see nothing.
"...How has you situtation improved..." Melkor shot his head to the right. The voice had seemingly completely relocated.
"...if you have changed nothing..." This time, the voice was calling from the tree tops. He knelt down and looked upward with increasing paranoia and caution.
"...since the last time I challenged you?" The voice was suddenly incredibly close.
A hand reached from behind the tree and rested on Melkor's shoulder. Melk jumped up and spun around, wand drawn.
"Anu, damn it!" Melkor sighed, "You win...again, BDF." He holstered his wand.
BDF stepped around the tree, and smiled at Melkor.
"I told you," he began, "you have to break the rules without breaking them, in order to win this game."
"And I told YOU, Beed, that I don't have the slightest freakin' idea how to do that. And then you say...nothing, and we go home. Do you plan on teaching me how to do this at any point?"
"Right. So how am I supposed to ever win at this game?"
BDF smiled. He said nothing.
"Oh for fuck's sake, Beed," Melkor threw his hands in the air and began walking back from whence he came. He stopped suddenly and began to say, "And another thing," when he turned to see BDF had again vanished. He turned back forward again to find Beed standing in front of him.
"Dude, I'm going to seriously knock you out if you keep this shit up."
BDF laughed heartily and threw his hand around Melkor's shoulder. Melkor reached up and pushed his hand off.
"I love you BDF, but right now, I'm really not feeling the brotherly love. How many Patches have we been playing this game?"
"Eleven", BDF quipped.
"And I've never won the 'Forest Squared' challenge even once. It's very frustrating."
Forest Squared was a game invented by the Ancient Wizards. In essence, the game is very simple. It requires only two Wizards. One Wizard stands on the edge of a 15 square mile stretch of a sectioned off portion of the Forest outside of New Tristram. The other wizard is allowed to hide anywhere he or she chooses within the 15 square mile section of woodland. At a given and agreed upon time, the Wizard on the square must attempt to pass unseen and undetected from one side of the "course" to the other. In eleven Patches, BDF had managed to prevent Melkor from reaching the other end of the course every single time. Melkor had never made it more than 9 miles. Usually, he didn't make it past 5 miles. Tonight, Melkor had made it 6.
The two young Wizards made their way together through the woods a few miles before Melkor's mood lightened enough. He looked at BDF with no anger in his face.
"Fancy a whiskey at Booz's? I have my pipe with me."
"Sure," BDF agreed. "Race?"
"N-" Melkor hardly had time to decline before BDF vanished in a flash of yellow light.
Fearing having to endure any more bragging from BDF, Melkor quickly followed suit.
The night air between Boozficient Goods and the two young Wizards lit up much like fire flies. BDF's ports were calculating in nature. He always made sure to teleport to the maximum distance each time, running full speed in between each ports.
Melkor was more creative. He took chances, dangerous ones even. Occasionally, he would get a few hundred yards beyond BDF. But then, he would miscalculate his next port and end up having to port again, or even worse, back track a few yards. So it was that BDF and Melkor found themselves on full Cooldown, just outside of Boozor's home. They both saw his smoking chimney, and raced on foot. Melkor reached Boozor's gate first, and slammed his hand down on the rounded post-top with a feeling of accomplishment growing strongly within him.
He also suddenly felt very nauseous.
"Melk..." BDF reached the post, out of breath, but with a look of worry across his face."
"What, Beed? You lost."
Melkor looked down at his hands. BDF was right. The nausea severely intensified as he dropped to his knees and began vomiting uncontrollably. The door to Boozor's home/storefront swung open. Boozor came rushing forward with a Chantodo's Force in his hand. He snapped at BDF.
"Dafuq you do to him?"
BDF shook his head rapidly while pleading, "I didn't do anything! He was fine 5 minutes ago!"
"He's not fine now, obviously," Boozor cloned himself and handed the clone his Chantodo's Force. It followed Boozor as he leaned down and tried to wrap his arms around the violently ill Melkor.
Almost instantaneously, Boozor fell beside Melkor, seemingly equally afflicted with the sudden onset of illness. BDF jumped back as his two friends writhed on the floor in pain.
He said nothing, and did nothing for a moment. He seemed almost unaffected emotionally. Finally he snapped his fingers, much as one who has an epiphany or revelation and said:
"Plagued. They must be afflicted with Plagued."
Melkor had now become unconscious and had turned a shade of green that was so dark, his facial features were becoming difficult to identify. Boozor was also darkening and was about to pass out, himself.
BDF leapt over both of them in terror, carefully avoiding physical contact. He jumped up the stairs of Boozor's porch and ran straight for the front door.
"Where are you goi-" Boozor whispered before slipping into a state of unconsciousness.
Inside Boozor's home, BDF ransacked the pantry. "Where is it? Where is it?" he desperately repeated to himself as he recklessly made a mess of every shelf in Boozor's closets.
Outside, the very ground had began to ooze outwards in a menacing fashion. The front door burst open, and BDF emerged, his hands filled with several flasks. On the outside, the words, "Beed, 2012" were inscribed. He stood over his friends, being careful to avoid the spreading Plagued Pools oozing outward from their bodies, and poured the contents of the first flask onto Melkor, as he was further along in the poisoning process, it seemed. His skin color quickly lightened. He then popped open another flask and poured it onto Boozor's body. Boozor instantly let out a gasp of air, and opened his eyes. BDF ignored this and opened the third bottle. Melkor however, had began to darken again. He again poured another flask's worth on Melkor. Melkor opened his eyes and began coughing, his skin color again lightening.
Over the next several minutes, BDF dumped every flask he had brought from Boozor's cupboards onto the two Wizards. And then, as if out of nowhere, Melkor and Boozor suddenly just *snap*, returned to normal. They both collected themselves and stood up.
"What happened?" Mekor asked. Boozor said nothing but was equally curious/concerned.
"You two were afflicted with the Curse of the Plagued. There must be a Blue or a Yellow lurking nearby. You're lucky to be alive."
"Yeah about that," Boozor rubbed the back of his neck and cocked his head at BDF, "why do I smell like Whiskey?"
"Well...the truth is," BDF reluctanly began, "the truth is, the secret ingredient in my 2012 stock of home brewed Whiskey is...health globe potion..."
"Ok..." Boozor seemed no less satisfied with the answer.
"Every curse, no matter HOW bad it may seem, can be countered with a very simple remedy. You just have to understand the curse to understand the cure. Plagued is a very,very dangerous curse, but it can only affect you for so long. Usually, the amount of time it is active is enough to kill you..."
"-Unless," Melkor cut in, "you heal for enough of your Health Globe that the duration of the curse is expended."
"Exactly," BDF cheerfully offered.
Boozor seemed no less comforted still. He looked at Beed and snapped.
"What about's Booze's Booze, Beed?"
BDF ensured him that 2013 would bring a new stock, and he would gladly replenish Boozor's stores. Boozor seemed somewhat appeased by this promise, and offered them both to come indoors.
Despite being grateful for BDF's help, Melkor couldn't help but feel somewhat jealous of his friend's seemingly endless intelligence. As a person who prided himself on making smart decisions, it seemed to Melkor that BDF always seemed so meticulous and calculated in everything he said or did. On the positive side of things, BDF was usually regarded as either brilliant, or rude, and oftentimes both. Melkor on the other hand, while nowhere nearly as cerebral as Beed, was generally liked by the OGs. He would offer his assistance to BDF in this regard, who would almost always decline or state that such things were not important to him. Melkor, over time, found himself resenting BDF for this.
"You're such a calculator, Beed," Melkor jabbed at BDF. Beed didn't react, but responded flatly.
"I 'spose there's worse things one can be."
"Thanks for saving my life, though. I owe ya." Melkor made a motion to leave.
"Aren't you coming in Melk?" Boozor asked.
"No, I can't. JellzRoc asked me to meet him at Mount Arreat in a few weeks and I have to make preparations. Farewell!" He turned and made off at once.
"This Melk," BDF said to Boozor, "I don't think he likes me very much."
Boozor laughed and looked BDF square in the eyes.
"Do you even care?"
BDF turned away and looked off in the direction that Melkor had gone. He stood there, emotionless, for a long while. And then he spoke.
"Yes," he muttered, almost unintelligibly, "I actually care very much."
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