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THE GIB GARAK EXPERIENCE #1 - Arch-Lector Danzen “Dante” of Dodaitose


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THE GIB GARAK EXPERIENCE

The official open forum of ‘ker, Gib Garak.

 

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#1 - Arch-Lector Danzen “Dante” of Dodaitose

Danzen “Dante” of Dodaitose is the Arch-Lector of the Flaming Covenant, Alchemist, Unlicensed Doctor, Author and Professional Katana Smith. His new cohort, “The Flaming Covenant”, is now evangelizing in Du Loc.

Spoiler

 

 



 

Gib adjusted his cap, taking in a sharp intake of air. He eyed Danzen then, pursing his lips before folding them together. He eyed towards the brick wall to his left.

 

Gib: “So, y'know, Danzen, as I was bringing you on this show, just after renovations here in our office. . . I got to thinking, that brick right there, fine brick and mortar.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Fine brick and mortar, hai. What about it?”

 

Gib: “It came to me, a lot of you Lectors often have a contrast with your dimension-hopping, monster-slaying, abilities: A lot of you have these rather mundane hobbies. Isaac, he's a what, a wood-maker, right?”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Brother Isaac whittles shafts of wood, that's correct.”

 

Gib: “Whittles shafts of wood-.. Mm, now, what about you? Do you do any shaft-whittling in your spare time?”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Nahhhh, I leave that to the professionals. He wove his hand dismissively, I mostly shape steel and tend to missing limbs.”

 

Gib: “Shape steel and tend to missing limbs, you wanted to be a Doctor, right? Some funny business in Haense?”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Oh, don't get me started there Gib I'll tell you, four months in the Sedan rebellion, one year in the Haense Army And you know what? They didn't even process my medical application. No doubt, NO DOUBT, it was because I wasn't a woman. That or they feared my power level.”

 

Gib idly tapped at the desk, pulling out a Hyspian cigarillo holder. He pulled one out, placing it in his mouth, striking a match and bringing flame to tobacco. He gestured the case over to Danzen, quirking a brow as he began a response.

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Y'know, I can reattach limbs, but I still lack a certification in any nation.”

 

Gib: “Y'know, it's always women that head those clinics-... What's up with that? Like look, I get it. …”

 

As Gib spoke the Lector procured a cigarillo of his own. He snapped his fingers and set it ablaze. He took a large pull before blowing it back towards Gib's general direction.

 

Gib: “But there I was, in Yong Pong, a couple months back, and what do you know? A fuckin' outlander, a woman.It's always been that way, hundreds of years, women, heading the clinics.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Gaijin.” 

 

Kato Oijin: “Fackin gaijin.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Not outlanders in the Ping, Gaijin. They sold out our ramen shops for foreign banks. But, listen, I get it Gib. Imagine you're a hulking soldier who just got mauled by a troll.”

 

Greyns: “Gentrification.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Would rather have a manly mug telling you that you've a fifty-percent chance of living Or some nubile elf woman who'll tell you everything'll be okay?”

 

Gib: “Fuckin' gaijin, right, imagining a big hulking troll, just ripped me in half.”.

 

Dharas' gauntlet pried from a stack of parchment, a depiction of a White devil in Yong Ping. The man's gauntlets sparked with mana, and that parchment flowed to the table, displaying it for those seated.

 

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Gib: “Y'know, when you put it like that, I think having Saint Juli'els own tending to me would probably be a better bargain-.. But before we get ahead of ourselves, you can reattach limbs. Reattach, did I hear you right?”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “That's right, alchemy. Oijin over there can too, minus the flesh.”

 

Gib: “So, you're telling me right now, if Dharas over there. He offered him an idle wave. Wandered over here, cut my hand off with a meat cleaver, you could put it back? That's crazy.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Nope. Not the case. He replied firmly with a raised finger, I'd make you a brand new hand.”

 

Greyns: “Get outta' here…”

 

Gib: “A whole new hand-.. Would it be gray?”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “It'd be clay, then turn gray. He stated with a rhyme and a nod. But Dharas there can regrow his legs.”

 

Gib: “No fuckin' way.”

 

Greyns: “Dharas you're a lizard?”

 

Gib's eyes panned to Dharas, idly procuring his own hand and squeezing the air in front of him. Dharas inclined his head in a humble affirmation.

 

Dharas: “Its true, but I don't have scales.”

 

Kato Oijin: “He's a mutant.”

 

Gib: So that guy over there, could be in the middle of a fight, get cut in half, and he'd grow what, like, little mutant baby legs?

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Yep.”

 

Dharas: “I had baby legs for five days-... While in a wheelchair.”.”

 

Gib: “Ho-lee-shit.”

 

Dharas: “I tried to walk on them too, felt weird.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “That's alchemy for you, Gib, it's the mundane man's way of evening the playing field.”

 

Gib: “Now, I'm all for evening the playing field, you have ******* ghosts wandering the roads. . . Why don't we start slipping this stuff in the water? Y'know, I think everyone growing baby legs would be a good thing…”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Well- it isn't for everyone Gib.”

 

The Lector began to explain with a tone of hesitation. 

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “It's very painful, and using these mutations for personal power's a bad thing. Scroll of Spirit warns of this. Dharas there's an Inquisitor. He's a living weapon, purely devoted to fighting evil. Atleast, he's supposed to be.” 

 

Kato Oijin: “The mutation he got saved his life when death from his wounds were certain.”

 

Dharas: “They mutated me while doing open-heart surgery. Was quite surreal.”

 

Gib: “And you're telling me you could do that-.. And a bunch of Haensetians looked at you, the General Surgeon. . . And said. . .Nah. We'll take-. . . Her.”

 

Gib pointed off in a random direction within the studio. Meanwhile, Arch-Lector Danzen leaned in towards the desk, practically chewing it. 

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Yes.”

 

Kato Oijin: “It might have to do with gender quotas.”

 

Gib: “Gender quotas, lets get on that. Y'know, 'ker culture, we don't really have a whole lot of ah-.. Separation, in that regard. Might makes right, y'know?”

 

Greyns broke open a bag of cactus green in the background.

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “I don't follow.”

 

Gib: “But these Human females, it's like one day they want to be tended to, and the next they're in the streets of Providence wanting equal rights. You got women. . . Being called Fathers. What's that about?”

 

Kato Oijin goes quiet awkwardly and looks over to Danzen.

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Y'know, Gib I'll tell you. The Lector began as he leaned back in his chair. Before the Owynist Rite was publicized, and made relevant again.”

 

Dharas stared to Danzen, awaiting a singular phrase to end it all...

 

Gib: “Uh huh. He stated, taking a drag of his cigarillo as Danzen spoke.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “I wrote to the Pontiff. I spoke of how 'modernizing' it for progress was a bunch of HOG-SHIT. He barked out, It's an innovation in faith. Now, listen here. I believe in Holy Women - by OWYN, I believe in Holy Women. We just put them in armor and call them Seraphim. We've nuns performing evil rituals and all that. Holy Dames. But the second you start calling a woman 'Father', I might as well start calling Dharas over there 'Sister'. What's wrong with 'Mother' anyways? They don't want to bear children?”

 

Kato Oijin: “I can confirm there was upwards to thirty corpses under that nunnery.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “We're humans, DAMNED IT, we've a race to continue!”

 

Gib: “Look, look, look. . . I think, slapping a bunch of faithful, GOD-fearing women in conservative clothing and letting the faithful call them 'Mother', would probably be. . .Pretty popular, no?”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Doesn't matter, it isn't about building up the church, but tearing down centuries of norms. If it were the case, Gib, they'd have put more thought into it.”

 

Gib: “Now, Oijin just said he found thirty corpses under the nunnery. Or well-.. Can confirm. Greyns, can you pull that up? Got anything on that?”

 

Greyns: “Yeah hold on…”

 

Greyns pulled out a book, hucking it across the room onto the table with a loud clatter. Kato Oijin took a drag on his Oyashiman cigar as he awaited Greyns' research. Gib nodded then, reaching forward to grab his mug and taking a swig. As the book hit the table, he opened it. Arch-Lector Danzen glanced down to the book with a slight twitch.

 

Gib: “Now that is gruesome-. Holy-.. Wooo. These nuns still around?”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Plough it if I know, it was some Orenian organization.”

 

Dharas: “They disappeared I heard.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Renamed it the Abbey of Saint Catherine.

 

Gib: “Y'know, a bunch of murderous nuns running around though, that's good stuff.”

 

Kato Oijin: “Can't trust a woman whose hair I can't see, can't trust the nuns. They're psycho and man killers, all of them!”

 

Dharas: “Y'know, those Nuns not only killed orphans, they also worked with Ghosts too.”

 

Gib: “Now that's a novel idea right there.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen pulled another stretch of that cigarillo as the others spoke.

 

Gib: “Psycho Man-Killing, Ghost-Ploughing Nuns! Writes itself.”

 

Dharas: “Think it'd be Almaris' number one seller?”

 

Greyns finished rolling his cactus blunt, striking up the improvised stogie. 

 

Greyns: “Three yeah, that'll fly off the shelves.”

 

Gib: “Suppose we'll see, Dharas, suppose we'll see, now ah, so there you are, fresh off getting told a Psycho-Man Killing, Ghost Ploughing Nun would be a better fit for a field medic than you… Where’d you go from that?”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Well, I'd have to say.... Listen, at that point it's natural selection. If they want a killer nun to murder them in hospice, that's their call. Let 'em suffer in the void. I wouldn't want to heal a mo-ron anyways.”

 

Dharas: “Think it ever ends, Gib? Women making questionable choices?”

 

Gib: “What, Psycho-Killing Nuns? Hope not, Dharas, I'm a bachelor.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen pinched the brim of his fat nose. A new viewer stepped through the doors to the office, procuring a wide grin from Gib as he offered a wave to the new visitor. Kato Oijin watches the homeless man enter their studio.

 

Dharas: “Evening, Drudo.”

 

Gib: “See, this is the best part about the Gib Garak Experience, Danzen. It's an open forum.”

 

Greyns: “Ask Drudo what's up with nuns, man.”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “Sir-Lector Dharas. Sir Gib.”

 

Gib: “At any time, a hobo could walk-in, your name Drudo? I like that, good, strong name, outlander. We were just talking about Psycho-Nuns, Man-Killing, Ghost-Ploughing ones. You ever meet one of 'em?”

 

Kato Oijin: “Hyspians are religious people, I'm sure Drudo has a few nuns in his family.”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “M'old-man' said it means defender.... No, sir. Nothin' about Psycho-Nuns, God forbid. Got a relative, though: now, that one's a cautionary tale.”

 

Gib: “Well, we all got relatives Drudo, unless you're a plant person-.. Now look, I'm not saying I hate plant people, but get this…”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “I sense that I shouldn't be commenting on plant people.”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “She's one'f' them there Psycho-Nuns, Gib.”

 

Gib: “There I was, right Danzen, walkin' through another place, as I do, feet guiding me.”

 

Greyns: “Dark secrets in the family man.”

 

Greyns replied as he exhaled a heavy cloud of green smog, leaving his booth to pass it off to Gib. Gib took hold of that cactus green roll, placing it to his lips and taking a deep inhale, as he spoke and blew smoke at the same time.

 

Gib: “And this green lady starts asking why I'm there, real impolite. Screaming at me! Now look, I get it. . . .”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Screaming at you.”

 

Gib: “She probably thought I was going to break into her house.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Were you trying to break into her house?”

 

Greyns: “You NEVER break into a green lady's house. Nothin' to lose when you're green.”

 

Gib: “Well, not yet.. But anyway, this walking, talking, piece of broccoli is screaming at me, why I'm there, it was in Pinemaw actually.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Y'know, I met cactus people…” 

 

Arch-Lector Danzen mentioned briefly in an off-topic interjection before refocusing towards Gib.

 

Gib: “And I look at this broccoli person, and for a moment there, I heard Elithel-.. But we'll ah, we'll leave that one alone.”

 

Gib offered a laugh, near uncomfortably.

 

Gib: “Cactus people.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Cactus people, cactus spirits.”

 

Gib: “You're telling me a walking talking cactus-.. Drudo, you ever meet a thorny-prick? Not talking about the n'wahs at the tavern either. Oijin, you? Dharas? Greyns? Cactus people.”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “No, sir: thorny-prick doesn' sound much good.”

 

Kato Oijin: “Cactus people? No. Just broccoli people.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “They wouldn't have seen 'em unless they literally entered the spirit world.”

 

Gib: “You're telling me you knocked on the spirit-worlds door, and just walked in?”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Then again, I think Greyns' might've… Well, I had some help. A former rex named Yarrow helped me and some green'd-out eldar go there, was a challenge. Point is, Cactus people - spirits of joy and pleasure. Festivity."

 

Greyns: “Back when I had a tower I used to see cactus people all the time.” 

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “They didn't like me being a buzzkill, world literally started shattering around me. The eldar broad got real mad that she couldn't drink he cactus wine.”

 

Gib: “You're telling me of all things the spirits could come up with, and a cactus-person is the first thing to come to mind? Not- A Qali woman?”

 

Kato Oijin: “The spirits might be women themselves.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Standard smoke-green humor, Gib. They're Orkish spirits, what can you expect?”

 

Gib: “Look, I get pleasure from partying with folk I can hold onto, I don't like thorns in my hand, Danzen, despite my work in the Quarry, I like to take care of my hands.You ever get a good look at my hands?”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Nah.”

 

Gib shifted to take off his gloves, extending them upward, they were near flawless, despite the occasional scar. 

 

Gib: “See, I've been on this new mindset recently: you get stabbed so many times, and ever since undertaking the Path of Owyn, y'know, this is my only body. Less I start growing baby-fingers like Baby-legs over there.” 

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “No cactus broads then?”

 

Gib: “No cactus broads, but you spurred a thought. . . Who'd win in a fist-fight, an Orcish spirit, or Xan?”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “Thorns're' no good, Gib. You're right't' avoid them.”

 

Drudo’s features became bent and rent, wagging his finger here and there. 

 

Drudo Pasquina: “Much less, a prickle-broad.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Right, I'm needing more context Xan pre-cuckening or post?”

 

Faenor Sylvaeri: “Win or not, Xan'd gloat after, he mused from the stairs.”

 

Greyns: “Which Spirit too? Cause like, Enrohk would knock the **** outta' anybody.”

 

Gib: “Another viewer, welcome, welcome, to the Gib Garak Experience Feanor! Anywho… Enrohk, this guy tough?”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “Th'toughest', I hear. Drudo lamented from his recess in the studio.

 

Greyns: “What's the toughest starch, Gib?” 

 

Gib: “Greyns, pulls me up a depiction of Enrohk if you can. Need to get a picture of what I'm seeing here. Greyns, only starch I know is a fuckin' potato, what're you trying to say?”

 

Kato Oijin: “Rice, Gib. Rice!”

 

Greyns folded a parchment depiciting Enrohk up and tossed it as a paper airplane across the way.

 

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Greyns: "No, It's corn. You can make a shank out of corn. Enrohk is corn backward."

 

Gib: “So Enrohk is this corn-backward mother of a spirit, Drudo says he's the toughest, our new viewer there says Xan would gloat after. We'll go with post-cuckening, Danzen.”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “Oh, th'guy' is real tough, Gib. I mean, real tough. S'about' as much as I can say about him.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Listen, we're getting a bit side-tracked Gib. Let's state some facts: Xan wouldn't even manifest to blow Azdromoth's head off with a snub-nosed lightning cannon. I'm saying, regardless, the spirit would clock him.”

 

Faenor Sylvaeri: “Xan's an arse prancing about in a battlefield full of demons.” 

 

Gib: “Y'know, getting a Shaman and a Paladin on here might be in the books: Maybe see this first hand, I'd pay good money to see an Orc clock some piss-elf Paladin. So Enrohk clocks Xan in the head, boom! Bonk! What's Xan do then? Think he fights back?”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Gib, I'm telling you, Orks are out there. They think Vampirism is a gift from the blood spirits, the heartbeat or whatever. A Paladin would spend their time reciting some ancient scroll or whatever. That Ork's already turned their head into a puddle.”

 

Gib: “Woah, woah, woah, hold your horses here, you're telling me some Orks think Vampirism is a good thing? Hang on here- Need to. . . Connect to the void, as you would...”

 

Gib inhaled sharply, taking in a big waft of smoke, and exhaling through his nose a moment after. 

 

Kato Oijin: “Good hit, Gib.”

 

Gib: “Foooo. So you're telling me…”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “Hand't' God, Gib. This one Ork, broad-stock fella', came up't' me preachin' the Grizh! 

 

Drudo interjected, becoming somewhat wroth in irritation.

 

Drudo Pasquina: “Begs'th' question, right: what is the Grizh?”

 

Greyns: “Man vampires are freaky, look at this one.”

 

 Greyns called as he tossed a book across the room.

 

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Gib: “I go to the Jungles of Krug, least I think It's a jungle, I'd find some Ork, come up preaching Gritz to me, as Drudo said here. Think it's a ah-.. It's kinda a starch, innit? Gritz, little ah-.. Bland lookin' thing. Isaac probably knows what it is, now that I think about it . . . So, let's set the picture a bit, these Vampire Orkz, they listening to organs, wearing black n' shit?”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “'T'sa' grain'f' some sort. Gritz.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “I don't speak spirit. And yep. And they think the blood spirits demand blood. What do they do? They get it. Now, what does a Paladin do?”

 

Greyns: “You think orcs are bulking with Gritz man?”

 

Gib: “Look, Danzen, you get these folk all the time that get told by some demon-lookin-n'wah…. Get me blood.And they do it!”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “And they do it!”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen shouted back at Gib, thrusting his balled fist onto the table. 

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: ”Because they're soldiers, fighting their own war. They don't got to question it, it makes perfect sense to them. I mean, if I worshipped a blood spirit, it'd make sense to me too. And I'm telling you, Gib, by the time that Paladin's done monologuing that Ork's got them in a key-lock bind… And he's screamin' WAAAGH or some shite.”

 

Gib: “I met this real fiery n'wah, name was Lacy, back in Freeport, before the Druid Cannibals. Beautiful, beautiful, red-head, even named a potion after her, type that clings fire to your garb. But y'know what she demands from me? Fuckin' blood, said she needed it to remember me by! Wanted a vial of it.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen inhaled sharply and shook his head.

 

Greyns: “She was probably running a clinic.”

 

Gib: “Psycho Nuns, man!”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “Y'think?”

 

Gib: “Gotta be!”

 

Kato Oijin: “That's some weird shit, Gib bro. Did you give her your blood?”

 

Gib: “Nether, no. I didn't have a Blood Spirit telling me to.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “I'll tell you this right now, there's no medical alchemy that requires your blood. Whatever that broad was up to, it was no good.”

 

Kato Oijin: “I hate women…”

 

Gib: “Now look, I won't lie, for a moment there, I thought about it: You live to three-hundred, well-.. I live to three-hundred.” 

 

Gib visibly eyed all the humans in attendance, and Kato Oijin frowned.

 

Gib: “You get a bit lonely, and this broad goes. 'Give me a vial of your blood, complete our union: A union of your very essence’.”

 

Faenor Sylvaeri: “Maybe she wanted to drink it. Or make a weird voodoo doll of you, like a kid.”

 

Greyns: “That sounds occult, man.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Hai, that's some occult shite.”

 

Gib: “See, instantly, I thought about that. He prodded a finger towards Feanor. And, initially, waved it off, y'know, I say some pretty out there stuff, thought it was a joke, waiting for the punchline..”

 

Kato Oijin: “Fackin' women man.”

 

Gib: “And this n'wah…She pulls out the fuckin' vial!”

 

Gib laughed hysterically then, hitting the table.

 

Faenor Sylvaeri: “Bet she asks every guy for a bit of blood to remember them by.”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “Real n'wahs.”

 

Gib: “I'm staring at her like I just saw Mordring destroy Bastion, all bug-eyed…”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “She pulled out a vial Did she even have a syringe?”

 

Gib: “No syringe! She expect me to just slit my hand right there, in the middle of a pub, and somehow pour it in the vial. First thought of mine? Inefficient.”

 

Faenor Sylvaeri: “Unsanitary too.”

 

Gib: “Second thought?”

 

Greyns: “Velothi no one let her do that, I bet she must think that's like a good idea for a test man, 'if he's the one he'll let me cut him.' Or some shit.”

 

Gib: “I need to get outta free-port. Now, I'm not saying she was a Druid Cannibal, but moment after I left that town, think I saw George Kovachev, George fuckin' Kovachev walk in. Rest is history, y'know how it went.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Y- Y'know… And we'll get back to George here in a moment… Rest in peace by the way. Gib, I'm pretty sure you can make homunculi with blood. Maybe it was some kind of child-support scam. Take your blood, make a little soulless bastard, and then make you pay for it.”

 

Gib: "For our viewers, rest in peace to George Kovachev, never met the man, but heard he was a hoot. Locked down in Freeport for years… Look, if some broad gets my blood, and makes another me? That's her problem, that kid ain't mine.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Gib, it would literally be you, except soulless. Imagine the fraud.”

 

Gib: “Do Homunculi even grow up?”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Don't think so. I don't think they age either.”

 

Gib blinked rapidly then, sweating slightly.

 

Gib: “Eef.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Y'know. How do we know you aren't a homunculus?”

 

Gib: “See, I was just thinking that.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Alright, quick test.”

 

Gib: “Yah, yah, gotta make sure the real Gib isn't locked in a basement, begging for his life, quick test.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “An n'wah steps on your boots. What's the first thing that crosses your mind?”

 

Gib: “Well first things first, does he have a nicer pair of boots than me?”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “Leather. The nicest.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: Focus now, are you mad at all?

 

Gib: “Oh I'm pissed, red in the face, and I'm gray.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Alright, now, have you seen anyone get mad over that yourself?”

 

Gib: “What, about a pair of boots gettin' stepped on?”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Hai, another individual.”

 

Dave: “Afternoon, fellas.”

 

Greyns: “Yeah I stole a guy's boots for that one.”

 

Kato Oijin: “Hayo Dave, welcome to the Gib Garak Experience.”

 

Dave: “Thank you.”

 

Gib: “Can't say I have, no. He eyed Dave, then, waving to him. Welcome to the Gib Garak Experience, Dave! Welcome!”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “Th'bald' fella' is with me: Dave is my manager.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen glanced back at Dave, and then re-focused upon Gib. 

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Anyways, if you didn't learn that emotional response, you aren't a soulless clay creature. Simple enough?”

 

Gib took a deep inhale of the Cactus Green then at Danzen's words, looking at his hand, turning it to and fro. Dave gave a nod, not wanting to interrupt the Gib Garak Experience. He takes a seat on the floor.

 

Gib: “We'll get back to that, bit of a ah-.. Deviation. Short advertisement from our sponsors and landlord, before we get back to more questions.”



 

 

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Gib: “Dave, Dave, you just walked in… Drudo here says you're his manager. What in the Nether could a specimen like you manage?”

 

Dave: “That's right. I'm a professional Hero manager, one of the best in the business.

 

Gib: “A professional Hero manager. . . So you're telling me what, you train zeros to heroes? How do you even manage a hero?”

 

Dave: “That's right!”

 

Gib: “Look at that, y'know, Danzen, I think this all leads back to the Cycle of Positivity. I have you here on the show, right? Got my best-friend Oijin there, Greyns, Dharas… Drudo here, good mate, walks in, Feonor, and now Dave walks in. I was skeptical at first, but I think Dave here seals the deal.”

 

Dave: “Well - there's a reason this business is so cutthroat. I work with my clients to help them establish a tragic backstory, sometimes we have to kill a parent or two - really good with audience retention. Tailoring custom outfits to develop a brand - and plenty of other things.”

 

Kato Oijin: “Did you manage the emperor or something?”

 

Dave: “Yes.”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “I tell'y', Dave is the best in the business.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Who's the most famous hero you've managed?”

 

Kato Oijin: “I'm convinced.”

 

Gib: “Well you heard it here, folks, you need a tragic backstory? Not enough Orcish Raiding Parties with the Snagga Ban? You need an outfit that inspires the peasantry? Dave's got your back. Yah, press on that, give me a hero you've managed, Dave, let me hear it.”

 

Dave: “I'd say that Savoyard, Olivier. Was he a hero? Not at all. Was he noble? Not really. But was his branding impeccable. Yes!”

 

Gib: “Ohohohohohoho…”

 

Dave: “He was one of my earlier clients.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Are you saying that you managed the Mole King?”

 

Dave: “That's right, he came to me after his colossal failure in Luciensburg.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Get the **** outta' here. I was there when he got the name!”

 

Dave: “It's true!”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “No SHOT.”

 

Dave: “On God.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “On OWYN?”

 

Dave: “On OWYN.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “By the Divine.”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “Hand't' God. Dave, show him the pictures.”

 

Dave: “I have a signed helmet from the man himself back home, I can bring it around sometime.”

 

Gib shook his head, mouth hung open as he stared at Dave.

 

Gib: “Oh we'd love to have you back on, Dave, you could even be one of our guests.Greyns, make a note to get Dave back out here, I know those wagon prices are going up and down what with the Orenian market crash.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “People still use wagons?”

 

Gib: “Look, Danzen, ever since I came from the Ashlands, I used to fuckin' levitate to get around quick.”

 

Dave: “You.. You what?”

 

Gib: “Even had a pair of boots that, get this, blinded me. Some enchantment. But Nether they made me quick.”

 

Faenor Sylvaeri: “Nono, Gib's telling the truth. Those were common, used to be. Ever get the ones that walk on water, make ice?”

 

Dave: “I've always wanted one of those! Shame the monks ran out of their stock. I'm sure they'd fetch quite the price in today's market.”

 

Gib: “Yah, so get this Dave, right? If it wasn't using Stilt Striders, in the Ashlands, it was great Wizards that gave those of us that didn't have magiks, scrolls, threw you in the air like a catapult. Insane view.”

 

Dave: “I bet! Goodness, you must have a really great landing technique.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Eldari acrobatics.”

 

Dave: “Little secret, but that's one of the hardest things to get right with my clients!”

 

Gib: “Had to- Well, Danzen, I know you're a busy man, working on medical certifications, being Arch Lector, doing the Du Loc Boogey.”

 

Drudo Pasquina: “Th'landing' technique. Dave was really ridin' me on that one.”

 

Greyns: “That's why we also sold the scrolls in two-packs.”

 

Gib: “Don't want to hold you up, and I think that's all the time we have. We'd love to have you back on the forum in the future, you're only a stone-throw away, after all f'lah.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Listen, I've just got to say one last thing, if that's all right.”

 

Gib: “We're an Open-Forum for a reason, Danzen, and I don't think we have any Psycho-Nuns to worry about taking you out before we go off air. Floors yours, f'lah.”

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “Philip the Second didn't kill himself - he flew away in a balloon. Greater Vampires exist, and they float on clouds. Rougarous lurk in the swamps - I've seen them. Julia was actually Juli'el, the Elf-Wife of Horen. Owyn was a time traveling farfolk enhanced by automaton limbs and adopted in the past to correct the wrongs of the Adunian peoples. What else, what else… Parallel dimensions? Exist, I've killed myself. Reincarnation? I don't know how else to describe the thousand lives I've seen.”

 

Gib stared at Danzen, quickly jotting down these future topics to elaborate on, when Danzen comes back to the show. Each topic wrought an inhale of the cigarillo filled with cactus green.

 

Arch-Lector Danzen: “OH, most importantly… Definitely most importantly. If anyone, ANYONE thinks Michael couldn't take Janus on, they're liars. Just pot-stirrers. Now Templars versus Paladins? Different topic. But I assure you, Michael would ruin him. Alright that's all I have to say.”

 

Gib's ears twitched, ever eager as he grinned widely at Danzen's words. “Hear that Janus? Michael's going to do you like an Orcish Spirit, clock right to the face.”

 

Dave: “I saw a Paladin stab a child and toss him in a flowerpot once.”

 

Gib: “The Gib Garak Experience everyone! Thank you for our viewers, our sponsors, for the crew, Danzen'll be back, got a shopping list to cover next time. Next week, we should be having the Lord of Du Loc himself, the shirtless, the slime-covered, the Tyrug slayer, Quentin Brae.”

 

Greyns got ready to cut off the recording, literally holding up a cleaver. He then cut the quill used to jot down the discussions.



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The Lord of Du Loc reads the transcript of the Gib Garak Experience while getting his makeup done in preparation for his appearance on next week's Forum.

"I hope they don't bring up the cuck shit."

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Spoiler

 

 

"Hey, wait a minute…" A perceptive observation had begun to wax in Drudo's mind, as a burgher somewhere narrated the transcript.

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A wizard watches the experience from the comfort of his tower. He drinks tea and enjoys his Magicked kaktus pipe. A brow furrowed as the unlearned mulch their words on some topics. "Even if they are wrong, at least they discuss with fervor and scholarly intent, instead of prattling on like pedantic nerds" The wizard makes sure to pack some of that purple good stuff for Gib

 

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One particularly greened-out halfbreed cackles in delight, managing to recognize her own name! "Lub a hozh Ilzgul blahhin' .. zhud bring dem boyz zum kaktuz browniez for dey wurk." She would promptly forget to do so roughly three minutes later. 

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Kin reading the paper? show? I'm guessing it was paper? would sigh as they talked about the clinc "Linli isn't a gaijin, nor is it her fault her uncle went MIA in a time of need" he thought to himself as he kept reading his ears twitched as he carried on reading, i'm going to say reading.

 

 

Jinan would just read and or listen to what was going on. Hoping they wouldn't turn into some psycho Nun

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A Leal Wyrmstalker took a swig from her cup of fine Dwarven tax-man whiskey as she delighted in the transcript of the Gib Garak Experience. 

 

"Well, if we're speaking purely in terms of power, I don't believe Enrohk would quite be able to defeat Order in a straight duel... Unless the entirety of the Orcish race was to pray to him during it. Malchediael versus Order on the other hand... Hrm. I'd pay to see that.

 

And don't you get me started on those gods damned Templars! The Elvenessi ones are naught but thieves I tell you..." 

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Unfortunately, Feanor hadn't realized what Gib truly meant by viewers. He doesn't mind the idea of listening into a few casual gentlemen every now and then.

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