“Anyone know what a bedizen is?” asked a soft voice, hardly able to pierce through the bedlam that reigned in the tavern at that moment. Loud music, lewd jokes, bawdy flirting, boisterous arguments, all successfully drowning out the faint voice of the enquirer.
It did grab the attention of a couple of thugs who happened to be sitting at the next table. They had been keeping a close eye on the barbarian, closely scrutinising his actions for the last hour or so. Most of which involved sipping from a mug of cocoa, which he held in his right hand, and flipping the pages of a book, which he held in his left. Quite the page turner, apparently, because he had been turning pages very consistently the whole time. Mostly though, their gaze was focused on the rings he wore on his fingers, bejewelled with large precious multi-coloured stones.
“Bedizen…bedizen. Hmm, I know what a citizen is, what a denizen is. I ought to know, I’m surrounded by a fair number of them.” He wiped cocoa off his beard, then coughed politely, and added, to no one in particular, “If it helps, the sentence goes – She decided to bedizen herself with colourful gems, intent on standing out in the crowd.”
He looked up quizzically at the pair of brigands, peering through a pair of spectacles that made him look perfectly innocuous. Which was quite an achievement, given he was almost seven feet tall, with long red hair and a matching beard. An intimidating prospect, but apart from his harmless demeanour, what had also caught the pair’s attention was a complete lack of any kind of threatening weapon in his possession.
“Yes?” he asked hopefully, “any idea? I feel like I ought to know this.”
One of the villains started whistling a nervous tune and looked up towards the ceiling. The other began to shake his head, with a guilty expression on his face, looking downward at the floor.
“I see the serried pattern on the ceiling has caught your eye. Clashes with the striated floor, doesn’t it? And then there’s the variegated rugs tossed all around the inn. It’s a wonder more folks don’t regurgitate their victuals upon sighting these anomalies.”
With no response forthcoming, he reverted to his book.
“Bedizen, bedizen. I’m sure I’ll get it soon.”
The tavern owner was keeping a nervous watch on proceedings. He was the one who had summoned the bandits, having sent his errand boy to inform them of a potential victim. They rarely robbed such physically threatening specimen in general. Perhaps the fact that the barbarian had absent-mindedly left his great axe on the counter while ordering his cocoa had emboldened the tavern owner and his team of bandits. There was just one golden rule. All robberies to be committed outside the premises. He himself, of course, was the exception. He hoped he would not have to share the proceeds from the great axe with his crew. It looked as though it would fetch a respectable price.
The barbarian, completely oblivious to this nefarious plot being hatched in the vicinity, finished his cocoa, wiped his mouth on his arm again, used the other hand to prop up his spectacles, left coins on the table, and got up, still peering closely at the words on the page. Completely unmindful of his surroundings.
The crooked pair surreptitiously nodded to their partners, sitting behind the barbarian, a bit further back, and, now a quartet, sneakily followed the tall, imposing figure heading outside the tavern, where they were joined by two others.
The group followed the barbarian as he headed towards an alley. One of them chuckled, before he was hushed by another. The barbarian, still apparently oblivious to all the unintended noise behind him, muttered ‘bedizen…bedizen’ as he headed further into the dark alley. And reached a dead end. This was exactly where the bandits wanted him.
He suddenly said, to no one in particular, “So now that you’ve got me here. What do you plan to do with me?”
The villains, over eager and stepping on each other’s toes a moment or two ago, now faltered.
The barbarian turned around and reached behind his back. He fumbled around a bit more, still searching for something, before muttering, “Oh bugger! I’ve forgotten my axe again. Left it in that tavern I suppose. Hope I didn’t lose it. It’s +15 Two-Handed.”
One of the thugs, hands trembling, was pointing an odd shiny object at him. The rest of the shiny objects they were armed with looked much more familiar.
Bandit One grinned and leapt forward, brandishing a dagger in a menacing manner, slicing and dicing the thin air for a few moments, before getting punched in the face. A punch that caused severe damage to his already tarnished looks, given the fist that met his mouth, nose, and right eye were well adorned with massive gems.
The rest of the horde hesitated. So did the barbarian. He gazed dreamily at the precious stones on his fist, raised an eyebrow, and exclaimed, “Got it! Bedizened. That’s brilliant. Bedizen. Bedizened. You live and learn.”
He looked up, grinning happily at the group facing him, two of whom were warily approaching him from either side, one wielding a sword, the other waving two daggers. The nervous hoodlum at the back still held that peculiar shiny object in his hands, focused on the barbarian.
The barbarian tut-tutted in disappointment.
“See, there’s street-smart, and then there’s textbook smart. You’ve probably memorised Shi Tzu’s Craft of Conflict. Can quote any paragraph from any page. But you haven’t really comprehended anything of significance. Brawling in this narrow alley is hardly conducive to classic pincer movements, such as this. Recipe for disaster, really.”
By now, the two thugs had reached him, just in time for Bandit Two to get punched on the side of the head, and Bandit Three receiving a hefty boot to the stomach. The barbarian stepped forward, stomped on the head of Three, smashing his face in, thought about stomping on Two, but decided enough damage had already been done.
Three down, three to go. He picked up the sword that had been dropped by Two, a sword that looked tiny in his hands, yet no less threatening. He took a couple of practice swings, causing Bandits Four and Five to flee in the opposite direction. That only left Six, currently experiencing a warm trickle that was fast dampening his trousers.
The barbarian kept approaching Six, fixated now on the strange shiny object in his quivering hands. It was relatively small, not sharp enough to cause any apparent damage. There was a grip to hold on to, pointing down, while the rest of the weapon, was pointed towards the barbarian. As he came closer, he noticed it also consisted of a cylindrical shaped part in the middle.
Now close enough to touch the object, the barbarian, still curious, reached forward to grab it. A loud bang sounded as he took it from the bandit, he felt a sharp pain on the side of his stomach, and suddenly collapsed.
And disappeared.