The God-Killer Device

Part 2 - Doug

Doug was mad. Maybe not mad. Irritated. That was the right word. He had left the docks furious with Dee and all the antics Dee's incompetence had caused but as he built up the distance between himself and the source of his anger, it began to subside. He just couldn't understand why Dee couldn't fall in line and be useful for a change. The kid had heart, he had to admit, but he somehow had and didn't have a brain the same time. What was that phrase Tank used to say? All int and no wis. Doug had tried to set Dee straight more than a few times, often with more extreme measures but nothing seemed to have an impact. He continued walking down the street, not sure of where he'd go.

Years ago, Doug had had friends, close friends. They worked together, fought together, and almost died together, but now as he wandered the streets of a town who's name he didn't care to remember, that was all gone. More and more he felt alone and the deeper this feeling permeated his mind, the more he felt he couldn't reach out. "They wouldn't understand" he would think to himself during the long, lonely nights. On his last adventure, Doug had made the ultimate sacrifice to try and save the world. A powerful warlock had risen up, wanting to kill anything that stood before her. A typical mission would likely have left her dead, at least given the group's track record. But this girl was different, she had been the daughter of one of the party. The long-lost, long-abandoned and significantly angry daughter of Tank. He was always getting himself, and those around him into trouble. His handsome mouth seemed well-suited to talking his way into problems and talking his way back out... that was a skill he was still working on. It seemed only fitting that he'd have a forgotten kid that would come back to bite him in the ass.

Doug had seen her for what she truly was. A killer. Just like him. No morals and certainly no place in society; only she was dangerous. Doug killed when he needed, while she killed for power, and if she was ever given the chance, probably for sport as well. He had held onto her and jumped off the precipice that set the scene for the group's last battle together. He had hoped that maybe in this sacrifice, some part of him might have become good or at least less corrupted than the rest of him, but that sacrifice had been stolen away. His opportunity for redemption had been taken by a 'feather fall' spell from Tank ensuring that his own flesh and blood wouldn't be dashed against those rocks. The spell wasn't meant for Doug and didn't help Doug. He had had to grab a precarious hold of the vines against the cliff and save himself. That had been the end of the friendship between him and his longtime companion.

Dee though, Tank's meager replacement was hardly up to the challenge of the day-to-day dangers that came with being an... adventurer? That didn't seem right. Adventurers usually had a tangible, monetary goal. This band of screw-ups was only in search of escape from this hellhole. They had been trapped inside this godawful cave for weeks and were on that damned lake for at least 10 days. Before that impromptu sailing trip, Doug had borne witness to the destruction of a small peaceful village at the hands of an awoken elder god. Some clowns had gotten it into their minds that they could control a monster like that. What truly had shaken him beyond recovery, but he hoped not beyond the threshold of hiding it, was the raw power of that creature. It decimated the town's populace without a second thought and the volley of spears thrown, the dying act of that doomed community, had meant nothing to its hide armor. Doug had tried to distract it; he had tried to lure it out to sea but those fools on the ground kept on fighting, even as their brothers, sisters, fathers, and mothers lay dead and dying beside them. That had gotten its attention far more than any meager halfling like himself could.

Doug turned down a street to see a poster up on a wall. "FIGHT NIGHT: Come see the silver spectacle vs. the gargantuan goblin." He chuckled to himself at the irony. At the bottom of the poster, he read "Fighters of all kinds welcome and encouraged. Earn big money fast!" Doug knew he was a fighter at heart and had no problem holding his own in the party and his miniature stature as a halfling meant that he was perpetually being underestimated. This made fighting quick and easy as any opponents that stood in his way soon realized their error: that Doug possessed a degree of anger and tenacity that made him a lethal weapon. He followed the instructions to the address hoping to make enough money for a hot meal.