Yeah, so, I don't own Majesty. Everything found in the following fanfic is property of its respective owner.
Darrell was walking home from school, day dreaming yet again about Majesty. He had cheated at the game to build the ultimate city, comprising of every guild, plus a warriors guild for each of the three warrior types. To be specific, he was day dreaming about being one of the heroes. The online game, Heroes of Ardania, helped with that day dream, but, without any real time graphics, it could only do so much.
He had levelled up his warrior immensely, and few of the other classes held much interest for him. Paladin, maybe, swords and spells being the most awesome combination ever. Preistesses were good. All that undead magic was seriously cool. Warriors of Discord, or WoDs, as he called them, were just too insane, and the rest were either inhuman, too religious, or just plain weak.
Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and Darrell looked up to see a huge rat crawling out of the sewer grate. It was absolutely massive, with teeth the size of his fist, and fleas hopping about on it like a circus. "What-?" Darrell blinked. There was no rat. Shaking his head, he carried on his way home.
the corner to his house, he saw none other than a troll attacking his
home. Already the beams in the thatched roof of his cottage had given
way, and soon nought would be left of his once proud home.
Again, shaking his head, Darrell saw that there was no troll. His house was not a cottage, it was the usual two storey semi-detached house anyone in the modern world might live in.
Walking through the door, Darrell shouted "Mom, I'm home." "How was your day?" "Fine! Don't forget I need my suit for job interviews tomorrow!" With that, he went straight upstairs, to his computer. Bloody I.T coursework had kept him from playing the game at lunch, he was damned if he was going to miss an opportunity to play it now. Getting just to the top of the stairs, Darrell promptly dropped his bag ( from the looks of it, it was the child of a laptop bag and a breifcase ) and turned round, to answer the front door.
again, Darrell opened the door to find... a rather chubby man in
velvet robes, with a peculiar purple hat with a feather in it, stood,
with a large sack that clinked nicely, and a scroll.
"Ah, good, you're home. Let's see.." The Tax Collector consulted his scroll. " Tax of twenty percent, three months late, total of debt of two thousand gold peices."
"Huh?" Darrell closed his eyes. This time, he knew, it was not just his bored imagination making him see things. The annoying person had actually spoken to him. This was real. Yet, when he looked around for the second time, he saw nothing unusual. The Collector was not there. The house was a proper house. And judging from the excited whispering coming from behind the hedge, the kids from across the cul-de-sac were staying with their mom.
"Bloody gits." But, then again, they had shown him something. Namely that he was working on his last marble.
I think I'll skip dinner, go straight to bed."
That instantly brought her running. "Darrell? You? Skipping dinner? What's wrong?"
Darrell laughed. "On second thoughts, Mom, I'll try and stay awake for dinner. But I've had an exhausting day today, I want to go straight to bed after."
"What, even before you have pudding?"
They both laughed. "Perhaps some pudding as well. But then I really do need some sleep."