Savage Indiana Jones

Arrogance is in the Eye of the Beholder

Getting slashed down the chest hurts, but it’s not like it was really my fault. I am an expert when it comes to the sword. She must have used some screwy magic or something. And it’s not like I wasn’t fighting one handed or anything.

I was peacefully enjoying the Serpent clan’s chanting ceremony, singing along as the words entered my head from I don’t really know wear, enjoying the feeling of the comfy black dress given to me.
thump
Apparently the party I was with was beating the crap out of some of the guards placed at the door to, as I thought, protect me. Oh, yeah, and I’m the chosen one, perhaps I should go back a bit further.

I was never much good at politics, but around here it seems we have a two class system. The oppressive House of Skull that wears snake regalia, with a skull tattoo on their skin, and the currently rebelling Snake House that wears skull masks and have snake tattoos. The Skulls apparently practice human sacrifice: pretty much a big no-no in my book. Earlier my comrades on this endeavor managed to align themselves with the Skulls (that event with the snake that I mentioned before). Which caused the little scuffle later that I, skillfully, managed to diffuse.

Anyway, the priest with the magical “Crystal Skull” is apparently a skull, wait, he wore a skull mask. Damnit, why can’t these native at least be consistent with their costuming!

Anyway, we found the skull, and there is some very funky mojo around it. It talked to me, and I’m afraid in my fluster I might have made it think I was an idiot. That doesn’t matter though, because well, I’m the chosen one. From what I can tell, that means later I’m going to get to dance with the very handsome sky god. That means there’s no possible way that I’m going to die bleeding on the floor after mortal combat with that batty harlot.

So, I took the chance to keep most of the prayer people distracted, hoping the violence behind them would calm down for a second and we could figure out what the problem is (you see I was still confused when it came to the whole house problem; it really only made sense when I related them to the ganges I’m used to in the city: the skulls were the Minotaur Triad and the Snakes were the Red Brokers). Turns out people really only listen to very loud shouting.

At least they responded better this time than the whole “school girl can’t shoot” scandal. Damn that still makes me sick when I think about it. Next thing I know and they will be saying I can’t read a map.

Anyway, thanks to my esteemed position, that affair was ended with minimal bloodshed.

Pros/Cons of being the Chosen One
Pro: Stylish snake tattoo / Con: I will never be able to wear short sleeves in polite society ever again
Pro: I got to see the universe from a mightily high perspective / Con: I got to see the universe from a mightily high perspective
Pro: I have power / Con: I have some responsibility that I don’t completely comprehend
Con: Crazy Batwife Demigoddess Amazon that joyfully tries to rip me apart
Con: All of my friends got the wrong tattoo
Con: Why if the Sky Lord manages to be a total nerf-herder. You can never be sure with those divine types. One moment they want a lamb for dinner, and next, broosh the entire planet is covered in water.

Only the best can be the chosen one, and, well, who else but me. ;)

Comments

Very well written. Love it!

buzzxf

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