One of my fondest memories was when I casually faked my death for no reason other than because I could. We were in the Pony. By we, I mean me and Threland, the troublesome duo of hatted, alcoholic terror that plagues the drinking houses of Breeland and even beyond at times. Obviously we had drunk some ale although not excessively; instead we were basking in the glorious glow of that pre-tipsy stage where the world starts to fall into place once more - basically the state that I spend almost the entirety of my life at. We were chatting, discussing nothing much, perhaps a tad boredly…well as bored as you can ever be with Threland when I suddenly had a flash of inspiration. How else to stem the boredom than to randomly and for no logical or sensible gain at all fake my death?
So we made our plans! I say made our plans it basically ran along the lines of: Threland pretend to kill me, Sefa play dead for a while and that were that. We went off to the common room and stood by the bar, pretending to argue and kick up a right fuss, shouting and generally being over dramatic. My acting skills were so put to the test throughout and it were hilarious. And then the whole thing got rather rough and tumble and that. Other people watched us and were nudging each other, watching the scene with interest and refusing to get involved for the moment right up until the point that we turned to mock violence.
He never actually hurt me of course, pretended to strangle me and all sorts mind and I pretended to fight back and struggle until I simply pretended to be killed. It was quality, pure quality – me lain slumped against the bar, pretending to be dead; him being mobbed by a dozen patrons who seemed intent on killing him. A couple of people came over and started prodding and talking to me to see if I was actually dead, I held my breath when they came over to make it more convincing. If you’re going to bother to do something pointless then at least bother to do it in the style that it deserves. It was a laugh at any rate, not that I could laugh at the time, pretending to be dead and all that.
In the meantime, Threland had caused a lot of attention, some of which happened to be from the Bree Town Guards. They arrested him of course and dragged him straight off to jail, much to my utter amusement and mild guilt. By this point of course, several people had realised that I was very much alive and had lost interest in me, their attentions drawn either by Threland or back to their own mundane lives. Not that I’m saying that all their lives are mundane, but let’s face it, they’re hardly going to be as exciting and ale filled as a day in the life of a Sefa. Day in the life of a Sefa…now there’s a book I need to write at some point. Gosh…it’d be terrifying! Oh well!
Back to the story…my lovely, gorgeous friend Drunn took one look at me, still casually playing dead for no reason and lifted me up onto his shoulder – Drunn’s shoulder being one of me favourite spots to sit and be carried around the place by a minion – and I casually stopped playing dead, continuing as if nothing had happened and as though it is perfectly normal to be sat on the shoulder of a big man with skulls on his belt while he carries me off to go and visit a friend in jail who just pretended to kill me for no reason. I do love a bit of abnormality. Story of my life is abnormality really.
When we were at the jail I recall spending most of my time casually sat on Drunn’s shoulder and pulling faces and stuff at poor Threland who was by this point locked up in a cell for no reason. They let him out fairly pronto mind and he got over it soon enough. It were a laugh and we both knew it and enjoyed it. Anything to make things that little bit more interesting and things usually are more interesting when the two infamous hats of Bree get together….
