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"Well? How things go?"
Edwarde stared at Rugar. So impassioned. So Romantic. So…hopeless.
"Ummm…swell."
Rugar jumped up.
"Then he luuuuvs me too?"
"Not quite yet!"
Edwarde tried his best to keep Rugar from running off that very instant.
"No?"
"Ummm…you gotta take these things slow! You know, romance? Mystery?"
Under his breath
"(Buy me some time)"
"Oh…me guess you right."
"Yeah, mystery! That's it! You see, I didn't tell him that it was you – only that he had a secret admirer!"
Rugar cocked her head at the lich.
"Well…you see…this way he will only want you more."
Edwarde tried to wink, but realized that he didn't have any eyelids.
"Oh…oh! You smart Edwarde! Me lucky to have friend like you!"
"Ooof!"
Rugar had swept Edwarde up into a giant bear hug. His bones ground together ominously.
"Careful! You're gonna break something!"
But Rugar went on hugging him. When he finally set the lich down, and flounced off in search of flowers, Edwarde had to wire together a few bits. Oddly enough, he found himself whistling as he did so. Or rather, he would have whistled if he had lips…whatever.
He stopped for a moment and tried to figure out what was going on.
As a rule, liches are scary, evil, powerful and evil. While there were a few like Edwarde who actually tried doing things to help people, they were generally guardians of some terrible secret that man, elf, hal-orc, half-elf, dwarf, half-dwarf, Halfling, you get the picture was not meant to know.
Such guardians usually had a rather dreary outlook on life, owing to their current condition – they were never much fun at parties. In fact, in all his readings, Edwarde had never heard of a lich doing the things that he was doing: not trying to take over the world. Not trying to stop foolish mortals from accessing secrets from the dawne of time!
Instead here he was, sort of whistling as he wired his bits together after trying to help a half-orc who was mooning over a psychotic elf. What's more he was clearly enjoying himself.
Scrutinizing his feelings further, Edwarde arrived at the inevitable source of his feelings: Rugar. He did not so much enjoy acting as a go-between so much as he liked helping her…
But this was madness! She was alive, whereas he was dead. She was happy and care-free, whereas he was the brooding guardian of forbidden knowledge.
Actually, the only "forbidden knowledge" that Edwarde dealt with came from romance novels. They had very oblique references to anatomy like "her steaming honeypot" or "his pulsing sword of passion." In many cultures it wasn't so much "forbidden" as it was sort of shuffled off to the side. In other cultures this was not even considered forbidden: there were actual temples dedicated to the proper technique.
Never the less, this was clearly wrong! They could never be together – yes, this had all the makings of an epic tale of star-crossed luuuuv. At this realization, Edwarde brightened up: he was in an epic tale of star-crossed luuuuv!
The lich spent the next few hours in a daze, barely noticing anything around him. At one point he bumped into Djaro.
"Hey, I think Flayer ate someone else."
"Oh…I'm sure they'll be OK."
"And it looks like Lomilyth's axe has fresh blood on it."
"Maybe he cut himself shaving."
"I don't think he needs to shave."
"Well…he could have been shaving his legs."
Djaro frowned.
"I hadn't thought of that. Hey, are you OK? You seem kind of spacey…"
"Oh, I expect it will work out."
Edwarde stumbled off humming to himself. Djaro watched him thoughtfully.
"I guess now is the time to engage in any larceny I had planned…"
* * * * *
"OK, so here's the plan."
Edwarde was trying to explain his plan to Rugar. Now that he had given into his Luuuuv, however, it was hard to concentrate. Somewhat to his chagrin, however, Rugar did not seem to notice his attentions.
"You write a note, and I'll pass it on to Lomilyth, then he can write something and I'll pass it on to you. Get it?"
Rugar smiled.
"Yes!"
"OK, all you have to do is write the first note."
"Huh?"
"The note, the one to Rugar…I mean Lomilyth! The note you write to Lomilyth!"
Rugar's face fell.
"Me can't write."
"But, but I thought you were a princess!"
"Me is…but orcs no good at writing…"
"Alright, well, you can tell me, and I'll write it."
"You do this for Rugar?"
"Of course my luuuuv."
Edwarde was gazing dreamily into Rugar's green face.
"What you say?"
"Someone set up us the bomb."
"Main screen turn on?"
"It's you!"
"All your base are belong to us!"
Edwarde and Rugar both shook their respective heads as if they had smelt something nasty.
"What the hell was that?"
"Rugar think is bad plot device. May also increase hits from Google."
Edwarde cradled his head for a moment, then said
"Arrrgh…Where were we?"
"Rugar about to tell note, Edwarde write down."
"OK, gimme a sec."
Edwarde fished out a quill and one of his romance novels.
"But you write on book!"
"Meh, this one's pretty crappy."
Rugar shrugged.
"Works for Rugar…"
The orc thought for a bit. Then for a bit more. After another bit Edwarde began to fidget.
"Look, it doesn't have to be perfect…"
"Rugar waiting for…for what name of small rodent?"
"A mouse?"
"Yes…well no. Sounds sorta like that…"
Rugar's hands worked and she struggled.
"Muse!"
"Yes! Rugar waiting for moose to strike!"
The waited a bit longer, but the inspirational ungulate made no sign that it would arrive.
"Look just start by saying something."
Rugar looked panic stricken and then blurted out
"Rugar can't think! Too much pressure!"
Edwarde sighed.
"How about: I long for your embrace, oh fair one, that I might bask in the sun of your luuuuv. Every moment without you is like an eternity. Every smile is the kiss of bliss."
"That really bad."
Edwarde glared at her.
"I don't see you doing any better!"
Rugar sighed.
"Well, until Rugar think of something betterer…"
The lich angrily scribbled onto the back of his romance novel.
"Why you write like that?"
Edwarde glanced up at the orc and then looked back down at what he had written. It was in Gothic…14 point…bold.
"I dunno…it just seems to come naturally…"
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