Clever Jack

This is a character vignette to help me get the feel for my character Clever Jack for Jerry’s Descent of Asha campaign. This story was never actually part of the campaign and wasn’t shared with the other players.

The patrons of the inn looked up curiously as the weathered door to the inn swung open, letting in the cool evening breeze. A tall man walked in, wearing traveler’s leathers and a warm hooded cloak. He walked up to the bar and very deliberately placed down a silver mark on the bars edge.

“Mulled wine,” he said, without lowering his hood. The barman looked down at the silver sitting on the bar, and back up to the cowled face in front of him, before wordlessly clomping into the kitchen and returning with a steaming earthenware mug. This was not the barman the traveler knew for this inn, but then the inn had changed hands and names often, and it didn’t surprise him to see a new face. Running a peaceful business wasn’t easy out here in the lawless edge of the Necrohol. He sipped the warm drink, examining  the new barman. He was of a height with him, with a heavy mustache and big hunched shoulders. Looked like he could take care of himself. The barman looked back down at the silver mark lying on the bar.

“What else can I get for you then, sir?” he finally asked. The traveler took another quiet sip before answering.

“I’m looking for a man called Jack,” he says. The barman scrunched up his face in thought, mustache bristling.

“It’s a common name. What else can you tell me about him?”

“He’s about yay tall, younger fella, short brown hair, talks a good game,” said the traveler, holding a level hand at his nose to indicate height.

The barman gazed longingly at the silver on the bar as he sadly admitted, “Can’t say that it rings a bell. Anything else?”

“Some call him Clever Jack. Rumor has it he’s in these parts.”

“Well,” said the barman, still eyeing the coin, “if he stops by I’d be glad to give him a message for you.”

“Yeah, you do that,” replied the traveler, pushing the coin towards the delighted barman. “You tell him that ‘Eight times is a fine meal for nine.’”

“Eight times is a fine meal for nine?” slowly repeated back the barman in a puzzled tone.

“Oh, he’ll know what it means,” replied the traveler. “You just tell him it right back just like I told you, word for word, you understand? If he don’t understand it, he’s a dead man, and he’s lucky I didn’t find him myself,” he added, draining the wine. He then set down the mug and walked out the door without another word.

“Well,” said the barman in a puzzled tone to the room in general, “Well, that was strange.” He clomped back into the kitchen shaking his head.

In the silence that followed, one of the other patrons finally turned to his old companion to say, “Strange indeed. Never seen that barman in here before. Wonder what happened to old Cormick?”

“He’s took sick all’a sudden, dinja’ hear? That fella’s a frind a’his, hilping out,” replied the old fellow. “Ne’re seen him a’for neither though, now’s you mention it,” he mused. “Hey barman!” he called at the kitchen doors. “Barman!” No one answered.

As the patron called out, Jack hung the barman’s apron neatly on the hook where he’d found it, then eased the back door of the kitchen closed and slipped silently towards the shadows of the brooding trees nearby. He had already traded his elevated boots for his usual soft leather slippers. A glint of silver vanished as he slipped the silver mark into a hidden pouch. Once in the safety of the trees, he removed the shoulder pads from under his shirt and slipped on his dark coat. He peeled the mustache off, leaving a patch of oddly youthful skin showing, had there been enough light to see it by. A splash of strong spirits on a rag removed the rest of his makeup, which he carefully folded away into the small pack he’d carried out of the kitchen, along with the other bits of his disguise. Lastly he slipped over to a particular gnarled tree at the roadside, reached into a knot and grabbed out a small, flat oilcloth packet which he frowned at, then tucked into his waistband under his shirt. Everything in order he glided off into the night.

As he stepped back into the light of his crew’s fire he commented, “I’ve been giving it some thought, and I don’t think we should take that contract you were considering. The more I think on it, the more I'm certain it’s a setup.”

“And just where the hell have you been?” asked Alec, the crew’s leader.

“Sorry, Chief. Just... answering nature’s call,” Jack replied, with a grimace that discouraged follow up.

“Alright but if you’re going to be gone that long… oh nevermind.” Alec sighed. “And I’m sorry, but we really do need that job. Vanguard won’t be happy if we come back empty handed.”

“That’s why I was thinking we could follow up on a rumor I heard back in town about a Drachurst noble’s son out here instead.  His coin’d spend as well as anyone’s,” said Jack. The oilskin packet containing that information had already been burned on the way back.

Three Gods of War

Many gods of War had the Norse of old. Fitting for a people of which so many went Viking. Three were even more warlike than the rest:

Stolid Tyr, One Handed, swordsman and general. He was the war god of discipline, training, and self sacrifice. He sacrificed his own right hand to so that Fenrir, the Destroyer, could be bound until the end-times. His was the guard who stood watch in the bitter cold of winter while other men feasted within; his was the warrior who stood fast and bled so the shield-wall would hold.

Mighty Thor, the Thunder, wielder of the great hammer Mjolnir. He was the war god of daring deeds and feats of prowess. He risked himself and emerged triumphant time and again against his Jotun foes. His was the man who boasted of his bold deeds in the meadhalls; his was the warrior who charged headlong into the teeth of the enemy with a song on his lips.

Above them all was wise Woden the All-Father, who bore the spear Gungnir and rode into battle on Sleipnir, the eight-legged stallion. He was a god of many things, chief among the gods, and the god of chieftains. A god of hard choices and cold stratagems. He sacrificed his eye and more at the Well of the World in exchange for Wisdom, and his companions are the ravens Thought and Memory. His was the king who must choose which of his loyal men to send to the slaughter so that others may live; his was the warleader who lay in ambush to defeat a superior force.

Many gods of war had the Norse of old, and only one god of Peace.

Note: My knowledge of Norse religion is amateur at best, and my views through a modern lens. Still I felt this piece poetic enough to be worth sharing. I hope it does not misinform. One inaccuracy that I am actually aware of is using the Anglo-Saxon "Woden" over the Norse "Oden" despite focusing on Norse religion because I just prefer the sound of it.

Lord of the Rings Films: fixing Legolas and Gimli’s rivalry

I know its a bit dated a discussion now, but I recently thought about this again and wanted to share. (Also posted to /r/fixingmovies.)

Like many fans of the books, I couldn’t ever be perfectly happy with a film adaptation, but I do understand that sometimes changes to the story can be a necessary evil when changing media. Despite this, there were several changes that still bothered me. I want to focus on fixing one in particular: the rivalry between Legolas and Gimli. Throughout the films Gimil gets the short end of the stick. He seems to lose every competition and that just doesn’t make an interesting rivalry.

One scene I would alter is the drinking contest in Theoden’s hall. In the scene Gimli challenges Legolas to a “last man standing” drinking contest. Gimli gets visibly drunker and drunker while Legolas remains completely unaffected until Gimli finally falls over unconscious, mid-boast. Now there’s quite a bit of lively debate online about the effects of alcohol on elves in Tolkien's works, so there's some room for interpretation. My proposed fix there would be to leave most of it as is: Gimli gets visibility drunker while Legolas seems to remain unaffected. However after Gimli’s dramatic collapse, the when the crowd turns to congratulate the winner, they find Legolas catatonic, asleep on his feet with eyes still open and half tankard of ale still in hand. Aragorn waves his hand in front of Legolas’s eyes and gets no reaction. This change adds more humor to an already amusing scene and sets up the rivalry on something like a draw.

The battle of Helm’s Deep just needs more of Gimli efficiently chopping orcs to pieces and less shots of him stumbling. He’s a badass, and this scene needs to better show that. Especially the part after the explosion where he attempts to hold the breach himself. He bounces his axe off of one orc helmet and falls on his ass, only to be saved by a volley of elven arrows and an elven counterattack. He really should have been still on his feet hewing orcs when the counterattack arrives, if about to be overwhelmed. This scene barely addresses the rivalry directly (it’s got more important things to show) but a stronger showing from Gimli here makes the later banter between them much stronger for the viewer. It also makes the "Don't tell the elf" bits funnier.

The biggest change I would make would be the “That only counts as one!” scene. Legolas’s takedown of the entire elephant and riders is a fun addition typical of Jackson’s interpretation, but again it leaves Gimli overshadowed. I would have added a subsequent battle shot where Gimli, grumpy about Legolas’s clear lead, faces down a charging elephant, slices its achilles tendon and sends it tumbling, crushing the riders. Again, this adds more excitement to the scene and strengthens the rivalry element. Afterwards, Gimli would proudly boast to Legolas that his elephant had more riders. Legolas would smirk and counter with, “But as you say master dwarf, it only counts as one.” Gimli is immediately grumpy again.

So, overall Gimli would be shown to be a worthy rival to Legolas, but Gimili would still be overall grumpy about Legolas outshining him (as he does already in the film as it is). That makes the rivalry more engaging, keeps the enjoyable humorous dynamic between them, and makes their growing mutual respect more meaningful.