[IC] Be my GM

[TwelveOf8]

"Clumsy little man." said the mysterious woman in a demonic voice. She no longer used her human voice anymore.

Gilligan rolled over onto his back. The demonic woman advanced on him slowly in a rather casual manner. All the wounds that Gilligan inflicted with the wine bottle began to heal very rapidly. His heart plummeted in his stomach as he witnessed the demonic womans supernatural regenerative powers. In a matter of seconds all traces of injury were completely erased.

The demonic woman smiled at the look of panic on Gilligans face.

"As you can see little man, you can't hurt me." she taunted.

"Try as you might, you know you can't resist me." she taunted further.

Gilligan hurriedly scooted backwards towards his sword. He dared not take his eyes off the demonic woman. Lest she employ some other kind of devious trick.

"It's a real shame. You would've made such a lovely collectible." said the demonic woman in her human voice.

"But you're gonna make an even better meal!" she said, in her demonic voice once more.

Gilligan began to panic. He flailed his left arm behind himself, desperately trying to grab his sword. Gilligans panic intensified the closer the demonic woman approached. She licked her lips in anticipation. Fangs began to protrude from her mouth. They were as sharp and as menacing as her talons.

He finally grabbed the sword. Luckily it was still in its scabbard. Grabbing the edge of the blade itself would've meant deep and serious cuts on his hands and fingers.

Gilligan swung the sword around from behind him then to his front. He grabbed the hilt of the blade with his right hand. Just as he was about to unsheathe the sword, the demonic woman pounced.

[Cuddle Pot]

Gilligan pulled his blade from its sheath not a moment too soon, as he thrust the sword into the woman's leaping form. The momentum of her pounce and the force of Gil's strike impaled the women through the belly. Gil then pushed himself to his feet and put both hands on the hilt of the sword and charged forward, driving his attacker back and the blade through his foe and out the other end. He kept pushing forward until they hit a wall and the blade was forced into the wood behind them.

[TwelveOf8]

The demonic woman issued forth a guttural scream of agony. Blood was pouring from her mouth in a red and frothy waterfall. She tried to claw at Gilligan but her arms weren't quite long enough. After a couple of futile swipes she grabbed Gilligans blade and pulled herself forward. With every centimetre she made she gave a little growl of pain.

Gilligan pulled the sword back out of the demonic woman and took couple of steps back. A torrent of blood spouted from the hole where the sword skewered her. She took a few steps forward before collapsing onto the floor. The demonic woman twitched on the floor, trying in vain to resist the weakening of her dying body.

Her mouth began to move. A slight murmur could be heard. Gilligan slowly and cautiously moved closer to the demon. He bent down on both knees and bowed down, putting his left ear less than fifteen centimetres away from the demons mouth.

"My collection." she murmured.

A moment later her breathing ceased, along with her twitches. It was really such a shame, Gilligan thought to himself. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Sure she was a demon yeah, but really, wasn't she doing what demons did? At the end of the day though, Gilligan figured, it was either him or her. She was pretty damn dangerous, Gilligan had to admit, but still.

All of a sudden all the lights were snuffed out. The room was plunged into pitch darkness. It was like Gilligan was standing in the midst of an endless void. A loud whooshing sound emanated from all directions, like the sound of a strong wind. Oddly enough Gilligan felt no breeze.

A swirl of blue began to encircle Gilligan. What the heck was going on? He couldn't help but wonder. As quickly as it started the swirling stopped. What Gilligan saw next took his breath away.

He was standing in the middle of the giant dark hall. The only difference now was that the hall was no longer dark. It was illuminated by large schools of what looked like blue fireflies. They cast a bright neon blue light over everything. Gilligan looked around and saw what looked like statues made of crystal. They were in various positions. Some stood, others sat, some coiled in pain and fear on the floor. So pretty yet so disturbing, Gilligan thought to himself.

At the very end of the hall in front of him Gilligan could see a short set of stairs. At the top of those stairs sat a treasure chest. Behind Gilligan, at the other end of the hall, was that familiar looking limestone door. Which way did he choose to go? The decision was his.

Gilligan fell to the floor and threw up. His vomit was mixed with that strange glowing blue elixir stuff from before. The adrenalin was running out. He began to feel weak and queasy. All of Gilligans energy left him quickly. He passed out on the limestone floor.

He awoke an unknown amount of time later to discover a strange masked child rifling through his pockets. The mask looked purple with strange gold and red markings.

"Oh jip! This guys poorer than a poet on payday." said the mysterious child.

"Hey you, stop it." ordered Gilligan weakly. He was still much too drained to move, let alone sound imperious.

"You drunk her toxin didn't you, ya stupid head." mocked the mysterious masked brat.

"Hey! Shut up!" whispered Gilligan hoarsely.

"Don't worry old man. You'll be alright." placated the masked brat.

"Hey! I'm not old!" hoarsely whispered Gilligan.

"Whatever old man. And by the way, did you have any idea what that creepy demon lady was guarding!?" asked the masked brat.

The little scoundrel took out what looked like the shiniest shield Gilligan had ever seen. It was so bright, even the reflected blue firefly light blinded Gilligan.

"This is the fabled mirror shield. Said to be able to reflect projectile based magic spells, like how a mirror reflects light. Said to be forged by the gods themselves." explained the masked Brat.

"Whoa" said Gilligan.

"And now it's mine. Ya snooze ya lose gramps, nya nya." taunted the masked brat.

"Hey! Give it! That's mine!" Gilligan whispered. It was his most strained whisper yet.

Gilligan tried to move but all he could do was twitch.

"Bye old man!" chirped the masked brat cheerfully.

"I told you, I'm not...." said Gilligan.

His retort was cut short however. He passed out once again due to a severe lack of energy. Out like a light.

When he awoke however, it was in a warm bed. A plate of bread and cold meat slices sat beside him alongside a pitcher of water with an accompanying glass. It was a quaint little cottage to be sure. Quite a small cottage with a warm and cozy feel. Gilligan could see a fireplace, bookshelf, entrance to a kitchen area. Sunlight shine through the the windows. Gillian could hear the familiar calls of those chirping birds.

Gilligan wondered what time it was. Whose house it was.

All of a sudden, the front door opened. An old man walked in carrying an armful of firewood. He looked quite short but very round. His head was bald but he had a great bushy grey beard. He kinda looked like a dwarf. Who knows, maybe he was.

"Glad you're awake young squire." said the old man.

The old man placed the firewood in its pile next to the fireplace. He then made his way to where Gilligan lay, sitting in the chair next to Gilligans bed.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

[Cuddle Pot]

"I feel like I got tricked by half a lizard and then a pixie stole my shield and then I passed out a couple hours." Gilligan felt a pounding pain in his skull as he sat up in the bed. He took greedy gulps of water and nearly wept tears of joy upon seeing the bread. Once he polished off a few slices he asked his host, "Not that I'm not grateful, but who are you? Why I'm I not in my house. And please don't turn into like a killed demon toad. Not until I've finished breakfast."

[TwelveOf8]

"Ho ho ho! Quite right!" said the old man.

The old man became greatly overjoyed at seeing this strange yet plucky young fellow regain both his strength and his lustre. It seemed that the herbs he used in his medicine worked wonders. Though he noticed that there were other wonders at work in this young fellow. Wonders that he only heard about in legends. With his limited knowledge of herbs and medicine it was obvious, even to this mysterious old man, that the young buck has had recently injested some demon toxin. How he survived, the old man had but one guess.

"Don't worry about me turning into some ghastly beast. Creatures in the real world have to go through sequential stages of metamorphosis over the course of somewhere between several days, weeks, even years. It all depends on the creature of course. I'm sure you've learned all this already in books and such? But I can tell, you're joking. You humans have this strange yet charming affinity for sarcasm." rambled the old man.

"Oh, my apologies young man. I was so busy rambling like a doddering old fool that I darn near forgot to introduce myself. My name is Lannärbrün Folfgar. But you can call me Lanny." said the old man.

"We are currently in my humble little abode not far from the dungeon in which I found you. Right in the middle of the woods themselves, amongst all this blessed nature." Lanny explained.

Without further ado, Lanny dove right into his question. It seemed that social graces escaped him when he felt fascinated by something.

"I have a question for you young man. One that I've been aching to ask you ever since I found you yesterday. Now tell me, how did you survive the demon toxin?" asked the old man. His tone seemed grave.

[Cuddle Pot]

"Oh Lanny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling" the melodious tune was all Gil could think about at the man's introduction. He was snapped out of his private joke by the severe tone in his host's voice.

"Truth be told Lanny, I'm not sure. I drank this elixir, potion, whatever and it tasted sweet. Then I felt cold and numb, like you slept in a heap of snow. I was helpless and couldn't move but then..." even the memory of that moment made him feel more alive.

"I felt... like fire from my chest, the numbness left and I felt more energetic and alive then I ever had before. My turn for a question though. You found me in the dungeon? What was I doing? Better yet what were you doing there?"

[TwelveOf8]

"My word, could it be!?" exclaimed Lanny.

"In all my years I've only ever encountered two other cases." said Lanny both quickly and breathlessly.

"My boy, my dear boy. I think you may have it. A most wonderous gift indeed." the old man whispered loudly.

"The virtuous reflex." announced Lanny dramatically.

"Also known as the heroic gag." Lanny explained both quickly and casually.

"Perchance I may have piqued your curiosity regarding your rare condition? But still, I must remember my social graces and keep on topic." said Lanny.

"Which would you like me to explain first young squire? The circumstances of your discovery by yours truly or..." Lanny paused for dramatic effect.

"The amazing power which you possess. The virtuous reflex." Lanny said dramatically.

To Lanny, meeting a fascinating stranger was one of life's greatest pleasures. And when such a pleasure was indulged, he tended to get a little overexcited. He was quite the excitable fellow after all.

[Cuddle Pot]

"Virtuous reflex? Sounds like a divine way to throw up." Gil thought to himself. He answered Lanny's request, "Alright My my new friend it seems like you got quite the story to tell. Start with this... Heroic Gag, and answer what you will after that."

[TwelveOf8]

"Rightyo." chirped Lanny.

"The heroic gag is a bodily reflex that combats even the most potent and deadly of toxins. Very few people are born with this marvellous gift. Those who are though, are considered chosen by the gods in some cultures. There are even rituals that are practiced in these cultures that tests whether one possesses this gift or not. The Shamira tribe in particular awards the status of chieftain to those who wield this heroic gag. enthused Lanny.

"Though as you may have already guessed, such a gift causes quite the reaction. First it begins with the quickening of the heart, then the sweats alongside the rise in temperature. Then finally, you receive this huge burst of energy and power that courses through your veins. You feel invincible, able to take in many a foe. But then.." Lanny explained in-depth.

He paused for a moment, his breath wheezed slightly. Lanny spoke so quickly and excitedly, that he needed to catch his breath. He took out a handkerchief from his left pants pocked and wiped his forehead. It was flushed with colour.
With one last deep breath he continued his informative lecture.

"One loses all of ones energy. One is then rendered unconscious by the sheer lack of energy that this defence brings. So much so that one is made bedridden for two days. Luckily I found you when I did, or who knows what would've happened to you. After two days you would be able to move no problem, but you'd be too weak to defend yourself." explained Lanny.

"But I wouldn't be going around testing the limits of this gift if I were you young man. If you were less physically fit and in less than perfect health then, I dare say, you'd very well be much too weak for this reflex to work. counselled Lanny gravely.

"And it goes without saying but please have someone around to feed you and help ease the inevitable fever. That's if you so decide to use this reflex again, for whatever reason. A friendly gnome such as myself probably won't be around to help you next time around." said Lanny cheerily.

"But before I tell you anything more. I would like to know if you have come to understand what I have explained. No offence but you humans can be a bit slow at times. Especially when it comes to matters of medicine." Lanny explained.

[TwelveOf8]

And thus he awoke and it twas all just a dream.

THE END