The Sick Kids

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Anyways, IUDC was written (primarily) in 1986. This story, The Sick Kids, is itssequel, and was written two years later in 1988. To date this is the only novel-length work of fiction I have concocted, and it still stands as one of my better(though still seriously flawed) prose works.Those of you who have memorized the nuances of all the AD&D first editionloopholes will doubtlessly get a big kick out of this. Especially if you pickedapart "Unearthed Arcana" the way I did when I got it in the *middle* of writingthis story. (Unearthed Arcana is referred to as "The Other Book of InfiniteWisdom" by the characters in this story.)If anyone's interested, I can put together an ASCII version of the actualcharacter sheets for the characters in this story. I used them *constantly* forreference to make sure I wasn't missing any of their (tons of) abilities orenabling them to do anything they couldn't.Anywho, enjoy, enjoy, and laugh your sides off.------PART ONE--------CUT HERE----------CUT HERE-----------Roger M. Wilcox Length = 55000 words18550 Prairie St. # 10Northridge, CA 91324April 2, 1987"The Sick Kids"Roger M. WilcoxPART ONESick Sword nursed her baby daughter in one arm and her Sick Sword in theother. Disgusting Sword was quite a name to be born with, but she was worth it.After all, she would never have even been born had not the Intercontinental Unionof Disgusting Characters brought Sick Sword and Ringman the paladin together.Ringman entered from a nearby room and smiled at the sight. About a year ago,Sick Sword had moved the small keep she'd gained from the Deck of Many Things tothe same clearing in which she and Ringman had had their first romantic interlude,and the sunlit trees sparkled gaily through the portal spells -- er, windows.This place hadn't seen any combat in its life, and Ringman always liked being ableto walk around without having to wear +5 plate mail."Do you know what day this is?" Sick Sword asked as she simultaneouslycarried on a telepathic conversation with the Sick Sword."It's Tuesday," Ringman chuckled in reply."Mm hmm. It was also one year ago this date that the I.U.D.C. was completelydisbanded.""Oh, that's _right_! It is, isn't it? And it's also the first anniversaryof Omnion's death.""Thank goodness you got rid of her, too. She was a real pain. I'm justsorry that God II doesn't condone going to the outer planes and destroyingsomeone's soul, otherwise I'd --""-- But you wouldn't want to lose your alignment status, now would you?"Ringman assured her."Mm, I s'pose not. I just don't like the thought of her taking over Hell, or

coming back as a 49th-level arch-lich, or plane-travelling to any of the otherouter planes and wreaking any more havoc."Ringman hadn't heard of this last one. "She can do that?""Well, not for another 99 years; and even then she couldn't get away withmuch. Most of her power lay in her magic items, and they've all been stored awayin The Dungeon.""Uh, you _do_ mean a few levels _below_ The Dungeon, don't you?""Yeah, yeah, well, it's all the same place," Sick Sword agreed as she putdown her Sick Sword. "I had to do _something_ with that old freehold of mine,didn't I? And what better use is there for stone walls and adamantite bars thanto hold all the surviving Union members?""Ah yes. Wild Max, the Grandfather of Assassins; Rango, the 17th-levelranger; Dirk the Destructive, the 20th-level anti-paladin; Da Bad Dude, the 31st-level evil illusionist; and that dastardly 20th-level 'paladin' Peter Perfect. Ihope I never see any of 'em again.""Without their magic items and stripped of their psionic powers, they're justas harmless as 31st-level kittens."Ringman suppressed a shudder and decided to change the subject. "So, whatwere you discussing with your sword just now?"'He's getting pretty perceptive,' Sick Sword noted. "I was just seeing howwell it was doing in the major benign powers department.""And how many major powers does it have now?""It's up to five. Two more and I get another prime power."Ringman shook his head and snorted a disbelieving chuckle as he turned andwalked out of the room. "I always thought it took more than a year for somethingto become an artifact," he muttered.The Sick Sword's rate of power gain _was_ pretty impressive, she figured. "Ihave eight extraordinary powers and eight special purposes," the Sick Sword hadtold her. "I'm almost an artifact right now. Why not let me go that last extrastep and become a real artifact?" She had agreed, but she also made sure that thesword picked up enough malevolent and side effects to keep its personality scorebelow hers. The sword, therefore, now had "alignment of possessor permanentlychanged to that of item" and "user has limited omniscience" as well as bestowingtotal immunity to all forms of mental and psionic attack.She fingered Disgusting Sword's chin lightly, and the baby replied with "Himommy, you feel nice." Age 3 months was a little late to start speaking, but shewould catch up. She'd need all the skills she could muster if she were to becomeas powerful as Sick Sword wanted her to be.And then again, she thought as she rubbed her belly, if Disgusting Sworddidn't measure up, there was always the next child she was pregnant with.#"YOU!!" Rango screamed, clawing through the adamantite bars. "YOU'RE the onewho got me into this mess! You ought to be in one of these cells just as much asany of us!!"Clerasil the 38th-level high priest maintained his smugness. "If you recall,I changed my mind.""Yeah, right, and I suppose none of the other Union members gave you AAANNYYYpeer pressure to stay in the group!""That's right.""That's because you were away from headquarters when you defected!!""True, true. But Wierd Dough wasn't away from headquarters.""He was also nearly fried by that half-elven ultra-arch-devil!""Koenieg, Middle Monk, and Melnic the Loud thought the risk was worthtaking.""My God IV, man, Wierd Dough didn't even let me IN on what was going on!!""You knew about them later. Omnion was practically screaming their names outat every turn, from what I hear. You could _always_ have come over to the RightSide."

"UP YOUR SIXTEEN-FOOT-STOP, CLERASIL!!"Clerasil, in the most insulting gesture he could dream up, grinned at him andleft without another word."Looks like Rango hasn't calmed down yet," Wierd Dough the 49th-level arch-mage commented when Clerasil joined him."Yeah, yeah, and he's sort-of right." Clerasil was looking slightly down andaway. "We _did_ make the Union in the first place, after all.""Hmmph. Don't think Peter Perfect wasn't instrumental in that too."Koenieg the 14th-level Great Druid broke his druidic silence. "It is veryconvenient for you, then, to have Peter Perfect to dump all of your blame andguilt on."Wierd Dough blinked at that. Clerasil only looked down and away even more.Middle Monk the Grand Master of Flowers, meanwhile, approached Da Bad Dude'scell. "How ya doin', Da Bad Dude?"The illusionist growled. "If I had my spell books right now, I'd cream you."Middle Monk folded his arms. "No you wouldn't.""Okay, then," Da Bad Dude decided, "If I had my spell books and my psionicpowers, I'd cream you!""No you wouldn't.""Well, then, if I had my spell books, and my psionic powers, and my _magicitems_, I'd cream you!""No you wouldn't." Middle Monk turned and walked away."ALL RIGHT, THEN," Da Bad Dude shouted after him, "IF I HAD MY SPELL BOOKS,AND MY PSIONIC POWERS, AND MY MAGIC ITEMS, AND MY _ARTIFACTS_, I'D CREAM YOU!!"Middle Monk rejoined the other anti-Disgusting-Characters. Melnic the loudthe Magna-Alumnae bard looked around. "So, why isn't Sick Sword on these littleprison tours any more?""She _says_ it's because she doesn't believe in laughing at the prisoners,"Wierd Dough said, "Which is ridiculous because _everybody_ likes to gawk at thebad guys. Actually, she hasn't been around recently because --" he made a cradleout of his arms "-- she has a little ga-ga to take care of."Clerasil shook his head. "I _told_ her not to take off that ring ofprotection.""Aah, she probably wanted it that way. She _is_ a mortal human after all,and she _does_ have to worry about the next generation."Clerasil cocked his head to one side. "So are you.""Er, um, yes, well, ahem, you see, I haven't had . . . uh . . . much time forfamily life recently. Yeah, that's it, not much time.""Oh?" said Middle Monk. "You seemed to have plenty of time for that cuteblond apprentice sorceress last --""That's different!" Wierd Dough stammered. "She needed help learning her . .. um, somatic technique.""I'll bet. What did you teach her to cast, a sleep spell?""Well, you're just jealous because _you_ couldn't score with any of thefemale recruits in your monastery."Clerasil intervened. "_You've_ got your monastery, Middle Monk; _you_, WierdDough, have your wizard's college; _you_, Melnic the Loud, have your facultyposition at Ollamh; _you_, Koenieg, have your trees; and _I_ have my church ofClerasilism. We've been out of the Disgusting Character scene for over a yearnow. I don't even know why we bother to come to The Dungeon any more.""TO CHORTLE AT PETER PERFECT," Wierd Dough, Melnic the Loud, and Middle Monkreplied.Peter Perfect heard that, and clenched his teeth. He was the greatest thingon horseback until _those_ wimps decided to join up with Sick Sword. Now, he'dalready spent a whole damn year rotting away between adamantite bars andunbreakable stone walls. They'd stripped him of all his magic items. They'dwhittled him down to zero psionic strength points, feebleminded him, inflicted himwith idiocy through an ego whip, then healed both the idiocy and the feeblemind to

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