Biding Time

Biding Time

We forgive our ancestors for their shortsightedness and for their condemnation of our lifetimes to life underground with procreation as our highest goal.

We forgive not for their sakes, but for ours, for we would not add to our hardship and loss the burden of anger and hatred.

We will remember the lessons taught to us without our consent. We will remember the greed and willful ignorance and entitlement that brought us here.

A future generation will emerge into the sunlight armed with these lessons and memories, so that their children will never know the darkness and misery of our lives.

Half elf paladin Gunthara readied her dragonslayer longsword. The adult green dragon, Lars, was unable to move, as the party’s half elf wizard, Altherion, had cast hold monster successfully. It was a waste, Gunthara thought to herself. Even though this dragon had resisted all attempts to deter its own destruction, Gunthara hated to slay it. Especially this way, as it lay helpless to defend itself. But Vida the Tortle cleric had attempted to broker peace with it, and Koni the halfling cleric had offered to use create food and water to nourish the dragon instead. Lars laughed at their attempts to placate him and broker peace. He would not be swayed. Even Ahinar, their silver-tongued Kalashtar monk, had done her best to persuade Lars that they were full of worms and not tasty or healthy to eat. While Vida, Koni, and Ahinar pleaded their cases and offered alternatives, Altherion had walked quietly behind the dragon and cast his spell. Gunthara had readied her weapon. Solemnly, she raised her sword and severed Lars’ head from his body. Although her deity Bahamut was an enemy to the queen of the chromatic dragons such as Lars, Gunthara spent a few moments in silence, thanking Bahamut for protecting her party and asking that this death be a worthwhile one, and a rare one in their journeys.

Gunthara then spoke to her party. “Waste is distasteful. Waste of life is distasteful. We did the best we could, but I wish we could have spared the dragon.”

“I know,” Ahinar said. “But we all did everything we could.”

“I didn’t.” Altherion stepped around the dragon Ahinar and Koni had begun furiously reducing to a sheet of scales and some valuable parts. “I’m here to survive. You can take that do-gooder claptrap to Bahamut. And you are all very lucky,” he looked around at the entire group, his tall form seeming to look down upon them all, as well, “very lucky that I,” he paused to emphasize the pronoun, “I didn’t hesitate.” He then came back with a pointed look at Gunthara.

“Geez. What does it matter if I hesitated. The dragon was frozen, Altherion!” Gunthara shrugged her shoulders.

“Well,” Vida said, slowly and sounding somewhat guilty, “I tried very hard to avoid bloodshed. But I truly believe this was the only path left open to us where we survived.”

“I know, old friend,” Gunthara moved to comfort Vida. “When we get to a point of rest later, let us spend some time in meditation upon life and remember the sacrifice Lars had to make for us to survive.”

Vida nodded and put her hand to her heart shaped locket that hung from her neck. Gunthara knew it had been a present from her mother, whom she had never met. Vida tucked the locked back into her shell and said, “I will pray to Lathander at dusk that this death not be in vain.”

Eventually, the entire group worked together to reduce Lars to about 50 pounds of dragon scales. And Altherion had worked magic to preserve the meat to sustain the party for a few weeks. Vida opened the group’s bag of holding, a magical bag that was bigger on the inside than the outside. What was left of Lars was placed inside. Although it was nearly 100 pounds of material, the bag continued to weigh only 15 pounds when closed up. And it still measured a prim 2 feet by 4 feet. Vida placed the bag back in her shell where she kept it for the party when not in use.

The group continued on their way into the forest, stopping at dusk to rest and cook a meal of dragon meat, which they paired with bread and cheese gifted to them by an innkeeper for whom they had done a small favor. Well, not so small. They cleared his establishment of mercenaries who were eating his profits and driving away paying customers. Altherion shared wine from his alchemy jug and cast a spell called Leomund’s tiny hut so that they could all sleep safely in a shelter. Vida, Gunthara, and Koni took some time to pray to their deities and honor Lars as best they could, given the uncompromising stance he took and the difficult act he forced them to commit.

They returned to find Ahinar and Altherion drunkenly singing a bawdy song about killing a dragon. Knowing their companions as they did, this was no surprise at all. Everyone had one more helping of wine before putting out the fire and sealing themselves safely in the magical hut for the night.

Bev found herself moving down the dark hall toward the animal care area. She was still not quite “with it” today. Her mind kept going back to the Game. She was sad at how things had turned out, but it was, after all, in Game.

She opened the door to the dog care area, and her best buddy, Maximus, welcomed her with happy barks. Maximus was a large, 12 year old German Shepherd mix. All dogs were mixes now, as there was no way to control breeding, well, no way to allocate resources to such a thing. “And why should we,” she thought. “Separating dogs out into breeds and spending time doing so was not a good use of resources.” She marveled at the things the ancestors had spent their time and thoughts on. And resources. What must it have been like, she wondered many times each day, to say to one’s self, “I’ll care so much about the genetics of this species that I’ll devote time and resources to that project. But I won’t devote time and resources to halt the destruction of the planet.” She knew hatred and anger were not good for her body and soul, but still, she had to remind herself, “We forgive our ancestors.”

Maximus, whom she teasingly called “Gluteus Maximus,” backed up to her once she sat down on a stool the dog care area. She scratched his butt, which was all he seemed to ever want. She knew they could stay like this for hours, while the puppies in the room bounced around her feet playing with each other and with the braided scraps of worn out clothing that had been fashioned for them to chew and tug. Every so often, Maximus would bark an order at a puppy or separate two who were playing too hard. “You really are a great doggy uncle, Maximus,” she told him as she continued to scratch his butt with one hand and play tug-of-war with a puppy with the other hand. Her other favorite dog, Fiona, was relaxing in the corner. Like Maximus, she had some German Shepherd in her ancestry. Unlike Maximus, she cared not at all for puppies. Her sole interaction with them was to take their toys away from them and tell them to stay away from her. What you didn’t see in this environment was that Fiona and Maximus loved each other very much. To take a look, you wouldn’t think they cared about each at all.

Bev soaked up the happy energy of the room for about 20 minutes. Dogs have no idea they are stuck underground for their entire lives, she thought. They are just happy to be where they are. It’s a good lesson to take with me. Then she stood up and started in on her Tuesday duties. She cleaned up dog waste and distributed food. There were also animals who lived in the group dwellings as pets. The Authority had deemed that it was good for people’s spirits to have pets, if they so desired and could take care of them. In fact, Maximus and Fiona were pets to Bev’s group dwelling, which was made up of about 20 friends she had lived with for a decade. She was lucky, she knew, to have such a harmonious group dwelling, and to have her brother’s family and her mom living in the group dwelling nearby. This dog care area was bland and gray, like almost every other place in the underground compound. But the joyful barks and the playful dogs made it happy for her. This was one of her favorite places to be if she wasn’t in Game. She cleaned the area with a vinegar solution to keep the it sanitary for the pups. Then she loaded the waste cart. Maximus and Fiona knew this was their cue to go, as well. Someone else would be along—someone else whose Tuesday duty was to exercise the dogs.

She thought again about the Game. And Alterion’s attitude. She knew he was a skillful player and played to win—and to push the buttons of the other players. He was great to play with, and he was a good gamemaster, too. This was very important in their lives. The Authority had deemed the Game to be an important part of their survival. “The Game will comfort you. The Game will teach you. Play the Game,” they had learned as children—and played as children. And good Gamemasters were celebrated each year on one of the few days resources were allotted for everyone to have a treat—usually a piece of fruit or a cup of fruit juice. Those treats were savored, for sure. But to be so cavalier about life—of course, Altherion was a character, not the player. But where did that cavalier attitude come from? Had Mason, her friend who played the wizard, read it in a book? It was unusual and troubling—but also, it made the Game so intriguing. Maybe this was one of the things the Game taught.

As Bev pushed the waste cart through the hallway, Fiona and Maximus followed. Bev stopped at each dog care area to load more waste onto the cart. She didn’t mind this task, although it certainly was a pungent one. She pushed the cart all the way to the plant care area. While dog and cat feces wasn’t the preferred fertilizer for food crops, it could be used for non-food crops. And there was a process to use it for food crops, if such was needed. She rolled the cart into the drop off area, and she walked with Maximus and Fiona to her group dwelling area.

As she entered her group dwelling area, Turk was already lounging in their bed. He was playing a guitar and singing a song he was working on. Marva came over happily and said, “Topside tomorrow—two hours, they say!” Marva had two children who also lived in the dwelling, and all three were very excited about the chance to run and play in the sunshine. During the winter, that sometimes happened. Citizens and pets were led up to the surface to enjoy the sunshine for a few hours and blow off some steam. It was too toxic to stay too long—and too hot to go except in the deepest winter. But it was really wonderful. Bev smiled a bit to herself and ruffled Turk’s hair and sighed. “A future generation will emerge into the sunlight armed with these lessons and memories, so that their children will never know the darkness and misery of our lives.