The Searing of Sears

A badly written tale about a man and his way in the world, also there's a fair bit about an Empress, a weapon and rising to the challenge. Contains extreme amounts of stupid. If you expect seriousness, maturity, good romance, speech or fight scenes, and no mention of fecal matter, then this is not gonna be good for you. Consider this more of a disclaimer than a description :D

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1. An Unhealthy Bowel.

 Bud Sears knew something was very wrong as Gusg slyly smirked when he laid eyes on him.

‘Late again Sears? Well well, looks like you’re in for it this time, The Overseer is here.’

‘Th-the Overseer? Oh God, please, please let me off Gusg, I’ll do anything, just don’t hand me…”  

A metal door slid open, and The Overseer strode into the corridor as Bud’s heart sank.  

‘What’s this Gusg? A late labourer? I am disappointed; this will have to go in my report to the Empress about the optimisation of this here facility.’  

The two Necrosaurs snorted with laughter, their shells glimmering as they did when emotion was displayed.  

‘You!’ the Overseer turned to Bud, ‘You will come with me, to the Crystal Keep. I’m sure that will teach your fellow scum to not be late.'  

With that, two waiting guards dutifully seized Bud, and dragged him through the workroom of the mill for all the workers to see. The Overseer casually strolled behind Bud, and called to the workers;  ‘This man is you, but late for work, this man is going to the Keep, where he will know punishment, this man is a lesson, to work hard like good humans do.’

The workers dared not look up to the Necrosaurs, but took in every word as if it was scripture. Bud was speechless, and could not help but evacuate his bowels.

The ride was not particularly comfortable, even if Bud’s pants had not been soiled. He sat there, in the caged cart, amongst real criminals; thieves and murderers, and Bud felt a great mixture of emotion. Anger at himself for being late and his annoyance for the coincidence of the overseer showing up on this very day were overwhelmed with the thought of what awaited him.  

He knew what they did to most criminals, but surely this was just an act to intimidate the other workers, surely he would not be thrown into prison for being late.

 

 The Crystal Keep rose majestically into the air, and awaiting the cart at the gates was a feeble looking, elderly man. He spoke with the Necrosaurs for a while - though Bud could not hear what was being said - until one of the massive guards unlocked the cage, knocked the desperate prisoners aside and tore Bud out from the tangle of limbs.

He was pushed by the scruff of his neck to the marble steps where the old man was waiting.  

‘You are a Sears, B, correct?’

 ‘Y-yes my lord.’ Bud stammered.  

The man carried on unwaveringly, ‘And you are from the town of Krunt, correct?’  

‘Yes my lord.’  

The old man raised his eyes over the parchment he was reading from to observe Bud. ‘And you are a farm labourer, correct?’

‘Yes my lord.’ repeated Bud, wondering where this was going.  

‘Very well, it looks like your crimes are undeniably petty and hardly worth you taking up valuable prison room… “late for work” honestly, sometimes I wonder…’ he seemed to speak to himself near the end, and drifted off for a moment. Bud cleared his throat, and the old man shook into focus again.  

‘Yes, yes, you won’t be going to the chambers, but there’s only so much that can be done. Your record still has you down as a criminal, see. You must privately service the state to completely clear your name. Do you understand?’  

‘Yes my lord.’ said Bud, his mind abuzz with this new information.  

‘I have a bounty on this damned thing’ said the old man exasperatedly, scrolling through his parchments, and picking a mouldy looking one out, ‘here, look at this.’  

Bud took the parchment and found that it was of a crudely drawn Node Wraith.

‘What do I do with this?’ Bud asked in his calmest voice.  

‘It needs to be eliminated. In the woods to the east, there is a clearing where it lies, only appearing to terrorise caravans on the capital trade route. It has been a thorn in the Empress’ side for too long, and we’re getting desperate, obviously’, the man added, peering again at Bud derisively.

Oblivious to the implied insult, Bud processed what was being asked of him.  

‘Wait, you want me to kill this thing?’ gesturing at the picture.  

‘Well yes, it’s your only viable choice.’ replied the old man.  

If Bud had not eaten only half a slice of toast for breakfast, he may have filled his pants up a little more at this point. For a second he thanked the lords that he was in a rush this morning not having time to eat any more, then remembered that if he had not had to rush due to his lateness, he would not have pooh’d himself to begin with.  

‘Are you healthy?’ inquired the man, ‘There isn’t any ailment that may keep you from potential success is there?’  

‘Umm, nope, nothing like that my lord... but I will need a change of trousers.’

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