Bodiccea (Act III)

Template:Bodiccea nav As they stepped off Meshif's ship onto the docks of Kurast, Heather said, "Traveling with you is kind of weird. Everyone else takes a lot longer to sail to Kurast."

"Yeah, well, we skipped the cut scene. I hate that one more than most. All it's got is Tyrael completely failing to deal with the big D, then trying to get Marius to go down to Hell for him. Oh, and Marius doing something almost as idiotic as when the Diablo I hero stabbed himself in the forehead with the soulstone. When you think about it, the Diablo plot depends on a lot of people doing a lot of really, really DUMB things."

"Isn't that the classic definition of an idiot plot?"

"Yep! And speaking of idiots... hi, Hratli!"

"Greetings," Hratli smiled thinly, his eyes narrowed appraisingly. "Welcome to Kurast, o unfamiliar traveler whom I have never seen before. Though the season has passed, it is good to see tourists on the dockside once more."

"Thanks, glad to be here. At least I won't be getting sand up my crack anymore."

Slowly, Hratli nodded. "I see the warnings we were given about you were accurate. Much has changed in the holy city these last few years. I hope you brought your ti... your wits with you; sanity is in short supply here."

"Sorry, can't help you with that," Bodiccea grinned.

Heather smirked. "You could stop bothering Meshif."

"Come on. I only got to harass him for four seconds, he's hardly even used yet. Do you think I should bother him more so he'll miss me?"

"I don't think that would help," Heather said.

"Sure it would!" Bodiccea sauntered up to Meshif, who was loitering back as close to his ship as he could. "Hi, handsome. I need a man really bad. Are you really bad?"

"Look," Meshif said, his voice even higher pitched than usual, "I brought you here to this jungle hell, and that's only because Jerhyn made me. Something about keeping you away from his palace."

"He was probably afraid I'd redecorate and pick colors that clashed."

"I don't know and I don't care. All I know is, I'm to bring you here, get a statuette that will complete my collection, and I'll be free to go. My heart belongs to the sea."

"And your cabin boy, Roger?"

"NO. Don't you have something to find?"

"Oh yeah, a jade statuette, to trade for a golden bird. Baby, I don't know what you want with an action figure when there's a golden chick right here in front of you..." Laughing, Bodiccea said, "You know why that statuette's in the jungle? The Spider Forest used to be a rice field, and it was used to beat somebody to death out there."

Heather blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah! The infamous 'knick-knack paddy whack' remains unsolved to this day."

After a very long pause, Hratli said, "I wish I had said that."

"You will, Hratli, you will. C'mon, Heather. Let's go meet everybody."

Ormus was in his accustomed place, staring at the statue with an empty dish, where the Gidbinn would eventually reside. "Hmm..." Bodiccea muttered. "Should we even bother?"

"Why not?" Heather asked.

"He's got a killer bod, but I can only take so much of the 'backwards run the sentences until reels the mind' stuff. Blizzard didn't make their wizards cantankerous old fuds in beards and robes, but they still managed to make them all annoying."

Heather laughed. "The only one that sounds like is Cain, and he's not a wizard."

"True. Oh, he's over there. You've gotta wonder how he got off the ship and stumbled over here so much faster than us."

Heather nodded. "That is kind of weird. He did that in Lut Gholein, too."

"Yeah. Well, whatever. Let's go talk to Asheara."

Inside her building, the largest on the docks, Asheara was waiting. There was no door for Bodiccea to kick open, so she had to settle for strutting in like she owned the place. Their eyes locked, and the two women slowly sized each other up, like gladiators on the field of honor. Asheara broke the silence first: "One question."

"Yeah?"

"Can I borrow that outfit sometime?"

Bodiccea wavered, blinking, then squealed, "Oh my gosh, you are SO my new best friend right now! Is it the boots? The top? Not the boots, you don't wear boots. Hey, you don't paint your toenails! What's the point of going barefoot if you don't paint your toenails?"

Asheara smiled a little. "I don't wear nail polish."

"Oh. Yeah, you're going for the 'Sheena' look. I am amazed, I always thought you had to be tall, tan, and blonde to pull it off like that. I love the snake. I hate snakes, but you make it work. Just don't come near me with it."

Stroking her python under the chin, Asheara slowly began to grin. "I couldn't borrow anything from you, you know. I'm only a size 3."

"Oh. Well, yeah," Bodiccea shrugged, still smiling. "I stopped being a size 3 when I was about 10. Who makes your halters? I could never get a bikini I didn't fall out of every time I breathed. Do they make thongs too? I think I could do a thong, I just need to lose a little weight. What I really want is something off the shoulder. Bare shoulders with my hair pulled up would look SO sexy, but I've never found anything that gives me enough support. You are so lucky with that."

"Uh huh," Asheara nodded, slight annoyance creeping into her expression.

"No, I mean it! There are so many gorgeous things I CANNOT wear, but you could put on ANYTHING and make it look good! You're like this tiny little perfect person!"

Looking increasingly dubious, Asheara said, "I don't think you need clothes to look good."

"Oh, well, yeah. Um..." Chewing her lip, Bodiccea shrugged a bit, her smile fading. "When I said you were, uh, tiny and little, I didn't mean that was bad or anything."

"Mm-hmm?"

"Yeah!" Bodiccea grinned. "Guys can see down your cleavage."

Asheara's eyes wandered down the Amazon's body. "Is that why your armor is hanging open down to your belly button?"

"More like it wouldn't lace up all the way," Bodiccea looked down; the leathers fit like they were made for her, which in a way they were. "It's hard for me to find things that fit."

Obviously not buying it, Asheara continued to appraise Bodiccea's navel. "Yeah. Gotta admit, you've got a hell of a pair of excuses. I've heard about you Amazons -- legendary warriors without peer."

"Well, yeah," Bodiccea's smile brightened.

"Good to hear it," Asheara smiled again. "You're gonna need to be to take on Zakarum and their midget minions. I've got my tailor's number around here someplace. You go get busy -- and come back anytime you want."

"Sure! This'll be so much fun! We can braid each other's hair, and I can show you how to use mascara, and maybe walk in heels --"

"Blondie?"

"Yeah?"

"Scram."

"Oh. Ok, bye!"

Bodiccea was practically bouncing as they walked towards Alkor's tiny hut. "Ohmigawd OH MY GAWD she is SO cool! Isn't she so cool? Try to tell me she is not so cool!"

"I dunno..." Heather looked worried. "She seemed kind of creepy to me."

"That's just the snake. C'mon, Heather, lighten up! I'm sure."

Heather shrugged. "I guess. Do you know how to walk in heels?"

"Hell, no. The last thing I need is to be taller. But she would look so good in heels, maybe a different hairstyle, some mascara and eyeliner, lipstick... do you think she's a burgundy, or more of a rose?"

"I don't think she'd wear makeup."

"Definitely not rose, she's kind of dark. She'd probably think it was just pink anyway. The hard part will be getting her into heels. Hmm..." Lost in thought, Bodiccea walked straight into Alkor's hut, took two steps across the floor, and smacked into the back wall. Bottles and jars jumped on the shelves as the whole hut shook.

Alkor looked up from a book, muttering, "What were those two great thumps there?"

"Sorry," Bodiccea said, holding her nose. "My bad. Hi!"

"Wooooo, girlie! You are even bigger in person and up close! And remind me of my dearly departed and unmissed wife even more. Scamper off to slaughter the minions of evil, and leave me in peace! I will sell you potions and salves if I must, but no more than that!"

"Aw. You don't want to help me put on the salve?"

"Not a chance! That is how I came to marry that witch in the first place!"

"Oooh! Which salve was it? Maybe I want some."

"I call it 'Relax, frosty b!tch'. This much is clear: you have no need for it."

Bodiccea laughed. "Got anything to make cute boys cater to my every whim?"

"Why do you ask such questions, silly girl? You do not need a salve for that! Now go away, or I will test new weight-loss potions on you while you sleep!"

After a short, confused moment's thought, Bodiccea said, "That's not much of a threat."

Alkor grinned a huge, almost toothless grin. "It is if it makes your boobies shrink..."

Bodiccea let out a sputtering laugh and backed away, eyes wide. "EEEEEK! You meanie! Ok, you win. I'll see you when I get the bird."

"No more suggestive comments, bouncy girl. You may re-awaken my repressed libido to plague the world once more, and no one wants that. Go!"

They wandered south to the lone bridge that connected the docks to land. Of course, Cain came wandering over. "I've not set foot in --"

"Kurast for many years," Bodiccea finished his sentence. "It's pretty different, huh?"

"The followers of Zakarum, if indeed this is their work, have changed remarkably. In my youth, they were as a beacon of light, but this nightmare --"

"Can only be the work of Hell, and you fear Mephisto may have gained influence over the heart of the church itself."

"Ah... yes. I suppose it is only natural that these things would have occurred to you as well."

"It's ok, Cain," Bodiccea said as she hugged him around the shoulder. "You are helping. Really. Anyhoo, that's it for the dockside. Heather, let's hit the swamp."

"But... what about the south docks? Don't you want to talk to Natalya?"

Bodiccea stared at Heather for a minute. "Why?"

"Um... you know, I can't think of a reason either. Are we going to talk to Ormus? He's the healer, so we'll need to sometime."

"Ugh. Yeah, you're right. In the land of exploding Flayers, you need to be on good terms with the healer. Let's get this over with."

They walked around the pyramid, somehow managing not to scuff the mystical symbols written on the ground in chalk. Ormus looked up, but not far; he was one of the few people they'd met who didn't have to look up at Bodiccea. "You now speak to Ormus."

"No, I don't. I haven't said anything yet."

"You just did. Ormus senses a dichotomy within you, one that is unlike other would-be heroes."

"Yeah! Should I smack you now or later?"

"No. All of them wonder that. You alone pursue what you do not desire, and turn away when you have what you sought."

Bodiccea thought about that one for a while, then asked Heather, "Ok, so I'm not a genius. Did he just insult me? I think he did."

"I don't think so. I think I remember reading that in a fortune cookie."

"You have questions for Ormus, he thinks. Better that you have questions for yourself, for in the answers you must seek true wisdom lies."

Sighing, Bodiccea squeezed her eyes shut. "Bodiccea is getting a headache, she thinks."

Heather nodded. "Too much thinking can do that."

"That's why I do it as little as possible. Awright, let's ask an expert." After walking off to a secluded spot on the south dock bridges, Bodiccea and Heather went back and out into the rest of the computer, looking for the others.

The first one they found was Varnae. He was sitting in an overstuffed chair in a Victorian drawing room, quietly reading and ignoring the candelabra floating in the air and the sound of skeletal fingers scraping underneath the floorboards.

Dear Diary,

I will never have a moment's peace until the day I die, and long thereafter, in all probability. While quietly perusing a fascinating collection of ghost stories in the most delightful milieu, that overly-blessed Amazon came to pester me with the most inane inquiry imaginable. It seems Ormus said something which confused her -- not that this is difficult or surprising, mind you, but she urgently desired a translation into plain language before deciding on a course of action. In short: should she respond violently immediately, or at a later time?

Ormus is one of those sorts who tries to give the impression of deep understanding by the simple expediency of obscurity, but interpreting his comment was not a difficult task. After hearing her mangled version of it, I replied, "Ormus has simply observed your habit of chasing things you do not want, and abandoning them once the thrill of pursuit is gone."

"Oh," she said, trying to accommodate this insight with what passes for her self-image. "So, I get to beat him up?"

"You will do nothing of the sort," I reminded her, "so long as he remains on the dockside, which he certainly will. Believe me, there is nothing insulting in the allegation at all, merely a recognition of a catch-and-release approach to romance. That alone is more than I would ever have expected from Ormus."

Disappointment writ itself large upon her features. Honestly, I have known female impersonators with more wit and subtlety. "Damn! Why can't we nudge NPC's out of town and smack 'em around? That would be such a cool feature."

"In this vale of tears, all must learn to face disappointment," I replied. "Now run along. I see Diablo, in his disguise, awaiting your pleasure just outside of town. You'd best go and fail to stop him."

After some rude comment best not repeated, she returned to her task, and failed exactly as all others fail, myself included. Fate can be cruel indeed, and humanity continues to strive against absurd inevitabilities through all the meager hours of our existence, which may well be the cruelest joke of all. Ah, no more for tonight; "American Idol" just started.