# Critical Sarcasm for the knees

# Old Ass Sudotask

Go Home Old Site

## Freewrite: Roland

"Barkeep!" Looking annoyed, he turned to service the unruly customer. "This flagon isn't going to fill itself!," exclaimed the lowlife. "I could use another as well if you don't mind," Roland piped in. Turning back from the bar to watch the fight, Roland murmured, "There's no way the dwarf will lose, I'd bet 100 gold he'll win." The ruffian sitting next to him said, "I'll take that bet,". Before Roland could object, the round started with one lucky swing from the elf. Crashing through tables and flagons full of mead, the dwarf laid on his back unconscious.

"I wasn't trying to make a bet I don't have 10 gold much less 100," said Roland. "Too late for that, have my money by sun up or you're going to regret it," the ruffian finished his mead and walked out the door.

"That man will come back with his friends Roland. They will kill you," Roland heard a raspy voice inside his head. "Who are you?" questioned Roland. The voice replied, "pledge to me your life for ten years, and you can be sure they will never bother you, or anyone else, again."

"Well, I'm going to sleep it off and see what it looks like in the morning."

"You will die, Roland. I ask only for service in exchange for your life,"

"How do I know you're even real? How do I know you're not just the mead talking in my head? Very well, I agree, but if I don't see any sign of them coming back in the morning, the deals off."

The disembodied voice agreed and Roland went to bed.