The hermit did not know why he had to wait. He had been doing it for his entire life, waiting outside his hovel in the middle of the stinking marsh. Waiting for the travellers to come. They would come eventually, perhaps not in his lifetime. Indeed, his lifeline was almost over and soon he would pass on the riddle to his grandson, whom would continue the ritual. This morning seemed no different. He woke up in the morning, ate his stew, and sat down to wait. Morning past, and became afternoon, which transgressed to evening, and he saw little but swamp monsters. That is, until he spotted the specs. Three – no four shadowy figures, approaching through the mist. Could this be them? Could these be the travellers? The figures grew into bodies, four men – correction, two men, a woman and a gnome. Rising from his seat, the hermit could barely believe his eyes, it was as predicted. Raising his hands wide, he cried out to them “Travellers! My family have waited generations for this! If you can answer the riddle then” – the Hermit didn’t finish as a scythe cut through his throat.
”You can’t do that!” cried the imp, hopping up from his seat onto the table to face the Felguard. “Yes I can” came the response, as he pointed to his knucklebones. “Three sixes.”
“That’s not what I mean dummy!” The guy was about to give us a riddle! He obviously had something on him we might need!
“Oh don’t worry I thought of that. I’m searching the body.”
“You find nothing.” That was the fifth figure at the table, a dark skinned human with a bald head. He looked frustrated.
“Of course you don’t you Idiot!” Cackled the imp “he had information on how to continue the quest!”
“Oh Bugger. Sorry Kupyal. Can we go back?” “No.” “Please?” “Still no. you killed him, you have to bear the consequences.” “But you didn’t tell me to throw the dice, so technically I didn’t kill him.”
The human sighed.
Rising from his seat, the hermit could barely believe his eyes, it was as predicted. Raising his hands wide, he cried out to them “Travellers! My family have waited generations for this! If you can answer the riddle then I will open the portal to take you to the other!”
The Hermit looked at the group for the first time. The one at the front, seemingly the leader, was a huge knight clad only in jet black armour. He sat astride a skeletal steed, that stamped the ground impatiently. His female companion, who the hermit now saw to be an Elf with pale skin and shining green eyes, was wearing so little armour she would have passed for a whore on the streets of the local town. The other male was another Human, although in retrospect the Hermit couldn’t tell if the knight was human or not. This human was dressed in a ragged robe, and was riding a mule. He seemed to be asleep. The last; a Gnome, riding a sausage dog, and dressed in leathers. Clearing his throat he began the Riddle.
“I am all on my own,
Wounded by iron weapons and scarred by swords.
I often see battle.
I am tired of fighting.
I do not expect to be allowed to retire from warfare
Before I am completely done for.
At the wall of the city, I am knocked about
And bitten again and again.
Hard edged things made by the blacksmith's hammer attack me.
Each time I wait for something worse.
I have never been able to find a doctor who could make me better
Or give me medicine made from herbs.
Instead the sword gashes all over me grow bigger day and night.”
“Good” Said the black knight and the Hermit keeled over with a sword in his throat.
“This is getting ridiculous” Muttered the Succubus as the Imp covered his face with his palm. “What!” Cried the Felguard, rising to his feet. “We heard the riddle! We didn’t need him any more!”
“Then who do we say the answer to?”
“Ah.”
Rising from his seat, the hermit could barely believe his eyes, it was as predicted. Raising his hands wide, he cried out to them “Travellers! My family have waited generations for this! If you can answer the riddle then I will open the portal to take you to the other!”
“I am all on my own,
Wounded by iron weapons and scarred by swords.
I often see battle.
I am tired of fighting.
I do not expect to be allowed to retire from warfare
Before I am completely done for.
At the wall of the city, I am knocked about
And bitten again and again.
Hard edged things made by the blacksmith's hammer attack me.
Each time I wait for something worse.
I have never been able to find a doctor who could make me better
Or give me medicine made from herbs.
Instead the sword gashes all over me grow bigger day and night.”
“Easy” Said the Gnome “It’s a Shield.”
“I don’t know why I bother with putting intellectual challenges for you” Said the Human. “You know them all.”
The Imp just looked smug.
The Hermit, his heart beating in his old chest, raised his hands, and spoke in the old language, as behind him a portal opened. Without a word the Gnome, Elf and mule trudged through the portal, with the Knight following behind.
“Good luck! Cried the Hermit.
“Oh yes, almost forgot” said the knight apologetically, and cut off the Hermits head.
