War On Fortune

Chapter One - Of Shrubs and Space Beer

It was a beautiful day for a chariot race. The crowd, their enthusiasm fueled by the variety of beverages available from all corners of the galaxy (most of them alcoholic in some form) cheered loudly as the scaly, lumbering lizards thundered past with their glamorous chariots, dust flying behind them. The drivers of these chariots, most aliens, some wearing armor and some wearing rags, were all coated in an unbroken layer of dust. Swearing at the massive lizards that drew their weight, these racers sped around the course, dodging boulders, fallen lizards and the rubble piles that had, not long ago, been functional chariots. The occasional carcass of a chariot driver littered the racetrack.

In the stands that surrounded the main stretch of the course, the audience continued to cheer (or curse), place bets, and drink as much Space Beer as they could hold. They were a wild bunch; some of them elves, some alien, with the occasional human or vampire thrown in. Rarely, one might spot a werewolf, or perhaps a gnome, leprechaun, or massive shrubbery capable of thought and speech. The shrubberies, however, preferred to "root out" unfavorable company and hang out closer to the back of the stands.

Most of these spectators stood in the stands, a few sitting or slumped across a chair or two, with the broken glass of bottles crunching beneath their boots as they mingled about. Each time the chariots would come clamoring past, a storm of dust would rise from the track, flying in the faces of the crowd and choking out any curses directed at a winning (or losing) chariot.

Higher in the stands, back in the shadows (seated beside a shrubbery, oddly enough), sat a woman. She was situated with her back against the wall, her arms crossed and a smirk across her lips. Her eyes were locked on the racers, and though she had waged no bets, she appeared to possess the confidence of one who had bet upon the champion of the past five years. One of the shrubberies, taking note of her elaborate armor, two short swords, and dark velvet cloak, decided to strike up a conversation.

"Hello," He greeted, shaking one of his many limbs in a sort of wave. It was hard to tell which one, as he had a good twenty. "You look rather pleased." He noted. "May I ask why?"

The woman, taking her eyes off of the race for a moment, glanced at the shrub. It was hard to know where to look, when speaking with these creatures. They didn't really have eyes, and no one was quite sure how they managed to see where they were going. Eye contact was not an option with such folk, so she just focused near the top center of the bush.

"I do like you plant people," She spoke clearly, with the sort of voice that left the shrub to wonder what she was planning. "You're right to the point. I'm just enjoying the race, my friend. It's quite thrilling."

The shrub, considering her point, nodded. Or, rather, his top half seemed to wiggle back and forth.

"It is," Remarked the plant. "But what's a warrior like you doing here?"

"Mm," The woman adjusted her weight, leaning forwards a bit. "Just wishing I had a drink, you know?" This confused the shrub. Shrubs hated sudden topic changes in conversation, unless of course, they were the ones initiating them.

"Pardon?" The shrub shifted his branches around in a sort of annoyed huff. The woman grinned, then held up her hand. Suddenly, a bottle of Space Beer (or something similar) was hurtling through the air from the crowd before them.

"SCREEEEE!" The shrub emitted a sort of scream (which, of course, was lost in the sound of the crowd as the racers came back around) and ducked as well as a shrub of his size could duck. To his extreme shock and amazement, the woman caught the bottle without difficulty. Grinning, she popped the cap off with an ease that should not have been physically possible and took a swig of the drink. Had the shrub been capable of physically expressing shock, he would have.

"How in all of osmosis did you manage that!?" He blustered.

Wiping her mouth, the woman motioned her Space Beer towards a rather drunk-looking elf, who (presumably) had tossed the drink to her. He was grinning, looking rather smitten, and carefully smoothed his lengthy blonde hair as he winked at the woman. The woman winked back, taking another drink, and spoke to the shrub once more.

"Keep watching that idiot." She chuckled, removing some sort of camera device from her cloak. She pressed a button on it, activating a blinking light, and kept it pointed at the elf (who of course, loved the attention). Confused, the shrub kept watching (with whatever means shrubs used to see). At first, nothing happened. Then, as the racers came for another pass, one of them began to lose control. The lizard, a massive, brightly colored lump of scales, tripped over his own feet and struggled to get back up, slipping and sliding across the track with the chariot flailing behind him. Unfortunately for the drunk elf and his fabulous hair, the contraption that held the chariot to the lizard broke, sending the chariot spinning out of control.

With a horrible sound, the vehicle grated across the ground, sparks flying, and collided with the stands. The chariot smashed right into the railing below the elf, who, discombobulated as he was, lost his balance and tumbled over the barrier and into the arena. Though it took him a moment, he managed to find his feet, but only just in time to discover that the loose lizard was racing towards him, ready for a snack. With a squeal that would put all elves to shame, he stumbled to his feet, fleeing the massive beast.

Laughing hysterically, the woman, still holding her camera, slapped her knee a few times and nudged the shrub with her elbow.

"Pretty great, isn't it?" She flipped her camera shut, still grinning, and stood. As she did so, she poured the rest of the Space Beer at the roots of the shrub. "The rest is yours, pal. Enjoy it." As she turned to go, she faced him again."Hey, check channel MRE sometime, everyday at five, Central Space Time."

"Pardon?" The shrub said again, ten times more confused than before. "MRE?" He did however, lighten up as his roots began to absorb the Space Beer.

"Multi-Realm Entertainment." She replied, heading for the exit as the announcer began going wild, narrating the plight of the elf as the unfortunate soul evaded the lizard. "Five o'clock!" She repeated, before disappearing into the crowd.

In a contemplative manner, the shrub faced the track once more, watching the chaos as it ensued and enjoying the taste of the beer.

"Hmm." He mused, watching with interest as the elf was saved last minute by the grace of a referee. "Maybe I will."