Like the World's Worst Drunken Uncle

Being down to my last few dollars worth of cash, I'd had to change my drinking locations from nice and reputeable to dirty and forgettable. Its one way you you know you have a problem, when the locations change but your drinking habit does not. Well that and the fact when you look in the mirror you look like a homeless person, you smell like garbage and the last time you remembered something longer than an hour ago feels years from where you are. But you know its also the location thing. Needless to say things were not all champagne and happiness for Trezlan Lorentino. The bar despite being a dive bar in a shitty part of town was actually fairly well maintained, the lady running it wasn't completely ugly though she did have a scar that ran down one side of her face and she was moderately overweight in the way that poor people seem to get. The rest of the bar was like her, not exactly pretty but at least maintained and didn't smell too badly even though I was sitting in it. I was of course the only customer there at eight in the morning.

"I think you've had enough." Her voice fit her body, lower register with that mom quality that older women tend to get.

"I'll tell you when I've had enough, I still have money in my wallet, you still have beer in your taps so keep pouring." She struck me pretty hard, the blow knocked me off the stool and sent what little belongings I had with me scattering (so some money and loose change). She came round the bar with a rolling pin and I gathered up some magic, no half wit bartender brains me and expects to get away with it. Well I should say I tried to gather magic, but I'd been drunk for so long I pissed myself and put my hands over my head to shield myself from the blow (not my best moment I admit).

"Get out of my damn bar you drunk before I throw you out like the trash you wandered in with."

"All right you evil wench I'm going, just let me collect my things." She hit me pretty hard with her rolling pin when I said the evil wench thing, which seems totally unreasonable! She was an evil wench! The blow made my eyes swim and since I was already pretty drunk I just gave up and passed out. When I awoke hours later she had carried through on her promise and I was in the trash. I'd have complained, but at least I wasn't arrested (probably because I looked like a bum, even the police don't arrest people who look like shit, its a waste of their time). Probably because I felt like the trash I was in, I made no effort to actually get out of it. I relished sitting there thrown away like so much garbage. It fit my mood at the time. I probably would have been content to sit there had I not seen what appeared to be a gang of hoodlums walking into the bar, because if there's one thing I can't stand, its people hurting people who hurt me.  Wait that's not entirely accurate.

All the same I try to not let good people get hurt (that's better) and so stinking like garbage and half sober I stepped back in to be the worst hero ever. Per my usual.

Drowning My Problems In Lots of Pity

I believe I hide this well but I do not handle change at all. Like I think a big part for my huge drinkathon was just me adjusting to how much I hate the world. That's not like hyperbole I hate the world, I hate all the modern conveniences, I hate all the ways people don't seem to notice things are worse than they were before, and I also hate how people like me aren't really needed anymore. I'm a monster hunter when you drill down to it, I hunt the things that exist in the shadows (when I'm not being seduced by them or tricked by them or trying to use them and end up being used by them), now those things are subdued technology is taking over and with it society! My days of happily riding from one town to screw them err help them with one problem after failing the last town is over! I guess like a lot of old people I see crying about pasts they themselves don't fully remember, I'm just sad that things change and I haven't.

Which certainly explains how I drank myself out of all the money I'd recently acquired from the cult members I'd killed. Yeah a lot of bad decisions, bad bets, and bad beer went with all of those funds. You know what they say, easily murdered for your money, easily spent on the worlds biggest pity party! So needless to say I got pretty drunk for a long time. I believe I spent three months not entirely sober (I am thrifty even when I'm spending my money drinking). And that lead to my next story. Which I'll tell you in the next entry, because remembering all that drinking has me thinking I should go down to Val's and get wasted. Because I'm a terrible person who learns no lessons.

There Are Worse Things, Not Many, But There Are

"Well at least they didn't execute you, the last guy I sent up there got staked on the beach shot and left for the crabs to eat." Hanlon was really making me feel better about my trip up north, in that he wasn't doing that at all.

"I'm so glad you let me in on all the places I should avoid on penalty of death by gunshot."

"Oh they didn't kill him with the gunshots, the crabs literally finished him off."

"I'm so glad you tell me these things." In that I'm not glad he tells me these things. I was at the Hanlon factory, figuring that was the best place to run into Hanlon outside of some how calling him up out of the blue. He was there over seeing some kind of weapon shipment, it looked large, but I have no idea when or where he shipped anything and everything looks big to me (no dick jokes please!)

"Trezlan you never asked, and you need to understand things changed while you were away. If I have to go over every little place you should avoid I'm sure all that will be left is one hut on a mountain surrounded by man eating plants."

"Oh so now you've been reading my mind to know where I wish to be more than anything else?" He looked at me sour.

"I have actual work to do Lorentino, please see yourself out as you saw yourself in." He turned around and then walked off. Which was nice since he didn't just disappear from the catwalk, in a way Hanlon with his factory and his workers had become normal, though still creepy as he can apparently disappear and reappear at will (despite what he claims to the opposite). I did take his words to heart, so I went to the one place I knew I could catch up on all the things I missed. No not a library, I went on a tour of bars! Well it was more of a drink till I felt better strategy, but I learned so much while I was there!

Its Customary For Customs

"Relax Mr. Lorentino." The man was average height and weight, he did have a fancy mustache and a nice uniform, the rest of his group who looked more goon than official were very much larger and more scary looking, the weapons helped.

"I'm trying to, but you know only so relaxed you can be when you are drinking this early." I tried to keep it less obvious that I was cradling my abdomen from the gunshot, which made for some awkward sitting while I was "relaxed", at least the bartender wasn't being obvious about his ease dropping.

"So you're wondering why we are here."

"A little bit."

"When someone such as yourself crosses into our territory from somewhere down south in the wake of a large scale war just fought down there, it tends to raise some flags, especially since Mr. Hanlon and his weaponry are also banned up here as you good and well know." I didn't, but I did know, which made the fact I had brought a Hanlon pistol with me seem more dangerous.

"I had no idea about the ban, I want to disclose I'm carrying a Hanlon pistol."

"We know, you checked it through customs."

"Ahh customs, lots of customary interactions I see." Have I mentioned I'm extremely awkward with modern conveniences? In my day customs meant one guy spitting on you when you arrived, it wasn't exactly standard, but it always seemed to freaking happen.

"So we thought we'd stop in and tell you and Mr. Hanlon his weaponry and his representatives are still outlawed from the country." It was a polite way of telling me to leave, and by polite I mean with armed guards.

"I see, so I should catch an early flight."

"I've even taken the care of checking with the board today for you, there's a flight leaving in an hour, here's your ticket, feel free to consider it a courtesy of this great nation." I smiled, accepted his ticket and accepted his ride to the airport. I tell you it was the nicest way I've ever been banished from a nation in a long time. Which of course made me insanely curious as to what Hanlon had done to get kicked out of a country he sold weapons to.

I Don't Have Bad Days At Work

"Bad Day?" I was drinking at a local establishment in town, it was morning so not a time most people drink, but I'm not most people gods damn it.

"Sort of, kind of a bad night just pour." I had slept in the car, it was a nice car don't get me wrong, but the nicest car is still not even a placement for the worst bed. The bar was the first one I came across, I'm sure I looked terrible, I mean I'd been shot (I switched shirts and used some dead man clothing to at least keep it from seeping out, but still getting shot takes a lot out of you), I also had expended magical effort, hadn't had a shower, and I'm just grouchy in the morning (it was a little bit past ten in the morning).

"Want to talk about it?" Bartenders like every other person in the service industry feel the need to discuss your problems with them. Ordinarily I'd be all over this, but after having committed mass murder, being wounded and possibly not in the country legally (there was some question at customs about missing paperwork, I didn't even know what customs was). I wasn't really up to the task of explaining myself.

"Not particularly, just know that most people have good days and bad days, I don't, I have bad days and worse days, today is a worse day." This was a bit of a cliche, I heard a guy who worked as a vet use it once, but I liked it so I choose to use it when I'm feeling pretty untalkative.

"Well if you feel the need its just you and me buddy." Until a bunch of people in uniforms came tromping on in.

"I going to take a shot in the dark and say they are here for me."

"Well either that or that young lady last night was underage by a far margin." The bartender left me to the troops and I turned around with my wrists out.

"All right boys lets not keep this day from getting worse." I've always taken the tack that its better to submit to arbitrary authority. It's why I recently served fifty freaking years in a tower. I'm an idiot.

"Put your wrists down Mr. Lorentino we're here for a drink and a chat."

"Oh goody my favorite thing, bartender get the gentleman and his fine friends a drink!" I probably wouldn't have been so generous had I not just stolen all of this money from dead people. See its like the old saying goes, found money is easily found to be missing. Look its not a good saying.

Economically Richer, Spiritually Poorer

Everyone was dead, well mostly. Winslow was still alive but dying (three bullets center mass life expectancy very poor). I told you I killed them all, figured I didn't need to go into the hows and whys, combination of bullets and fire magic. Aside from Winslow they all were pretty much unarmed, so not exactly a challenge, and even then Winslow without the benefit of being up close to slice my neck, was a pretty poor shot, he even killed one of his own men in the attempt, he did unfortunately put a round through my abdomen, though it felt like it passed through (sadly I've become used to being injured so I could tell, I will say this of bullets at least they don't stick in you like damned arrows would). Winslow as all people do when they are dying was trying to stop himself from dying/trying to kill me. Which was laughable, but understandable.

"You are a demon." His voice was wavering, he should have been saving his last bits of strength, but he wasn't.

"Yep, pretty much, hundreds of years old steal the life from others to extend my own, I'm the definition of a demon in the common belief system. Which is kind of sad now that I admit that. But there is one thing I'm better at than anyone else save one entity I don't entirely understand and that's killing to survive, before you were born Winslow I'd been killing people like you for hundreds of years, and there you sit a testament to my ability to murder. The years move on and I get better at this, I'm a better shot, I'm a better magic user, and I've found ways to kill with necromancy that would turn your hair white, so go on call me all the bad names as you lay dying because I'm exactly the monster you call me." He made one last effort to sit up to take a shot at me, and then collapsed the last of his life force expended his ragged breath came out as a grunt. So that was that, I came clean about what I have become and the person I came clean to was dying from my actions so he couldn't exactly tell anyone. It was cleansing. I felt lightened.

I was also richer, the cultists despite being a bunch of stupid cannibals who believed a made up story. Had quite a lot of money in their pockets. And I still had my luggage! About the only thing I lacked was my novel, but with my money and choice of transportation I was sure even that too could be replaced. And so I set off back from town a new man. I didn't bother to burn the barn down, I'm sure whoever owned it was in for quite a shock, but I'm just a passing drifter anyway, no connection to the events I involve myself in and therefore no real reason to ever be suspected. There are times I wonder if I have become a demon, or if someone will come looking for me that's on the right side of the law. I'm sure that's coming and I'll kill them to, because the one thing I believe in above all else, is me!

Awkward Story Time

"No I have not arisen." I swear I'm either wiping cults out or becoming their leaders, I have no in between (sometimes I become their leader to wipe them out, which is a combo of both crazy circumstances). They were not listening to me, because they were idiots deluded by a ritual Valrya had invented years ago to amuse herself. Yes this is the kind of horrible that Valrya was, she literally convinced a group of people to eat themselves for her own amusement. There was of course the other aspect to it, that being thanks to her use of necromancy should she have gotten in trouble she could "die" and effectively resurrect herself so as to instantly have the cult worshiping her. Again when you live hundreds of years you can play the long game, even if its a long game of being an asshole.

"Liar you have arisen show us the path now!" The old woman who looked to have had more chunks taken out of her than most was the one calling the shots, the rest of them just looked to be stupidly following. Even Winslow.

"There is no path you idiots, you are all the victim of a malicious necromancer hundreds of years ago, she created your cult to get one side in a conflict wiped out for being a bunch of creepy canibals, that you survived this long would only amuse her more. I wasn't resurrected, the bullet was caught on a book in my pocket see?" I took the book out and they all looked on in shock and then looked at Winslow who had shot me, look its not exactly his fault not everyone keeps a thick book in their jacket pocket (although they should!)

"This man is a liar! Come to me my children let us kill this pretender and continue the feast." The old woman marched away from the people who had been munching on her and I shot her in the face. The bullet took the top part of her skull off and sprayed her brains on to the rest of the group ruining their suits (brains are hard as all get out to remove from clothing).

"Look you can believe me, or you can all die here, I really don't care too much either way, but please just believe me." They didn't choose to believe me. I tell you I either rule cults or wipe them out, there is no in between.