Therapy Session of Ron Plunderman #15

Doctor Monroe sat quietly reading through a series of journals and papers; it made for disconcerting reading and he held a deep frown.  Ron lay back on the reclining coach resting his worn adventuring boot on the arm rest. The boots were deeply stained with what the doctor could only assume was blood.

Ron was happily eating his way through a large bag of imported pistachios, rudely spitting the hard shells across the room into the bin. So far he hadn’t missed.

Finally the doctor spoke. “I don’t know what to make of this account Ron, some of your actions were very troubling; the only positive thing is that you seem to have made an effort to befriend someone for the first time.”

Ron rolled his eyes and kept eating his ways through his bag of pistachio’s. Silence followed, broken only by Ron’s loud eating and the sound of the shells hitting the Doctor’s waste paper basket.

The doctor watched Ron eating and shook his head in dismay. “You certainly are a stubborn one Ron. I don’t want to insult your intelligence by making more threats. So could we agree to keep this short. You answer my questions truthfully and honestly and you can leave early today.”

Ron merely shrugged as if he didn’t care.

“How did you feel when Nitchie and Dinosaur girl died?”

“I felt bad.” Ron answered.

“So bad that you drank the blood of Nitchie?” asked the doctor.

“Nope. I just felt bad, his blood didn’t have anything to do with it and if you must know I injected his blood into me.”

The doctor nodded. “Yes the blood transcription spell. Did you know that spell is banned under the Iomedae convention?”

“No doctor I didn’t.” answered Ron. “Maybe if that poofter Titus hadn’t abandoned us I might have known. “

“Do you know why it is banned?” asked the doctor.

“Don’t know, probably because Iomedae is a hypocritical bitch permanently on her rags.”

The doctor ignored Ron’s foul abusive statement and continued speaking. “Well the spell is believed to have devilish origins, a gift from Asmodeus .”

Ron shrugged. “So?”

“So it is therefore considered an evil spell.” Answerd the doctor.

Ron exhaled a long impatient sigh. “Whatever doc, so its okay to fireball, dominate or put to sleep your foes so that you can safely slit their throats but you can’t drink or inject a bit of someone’s blood. What a load of shit.”

“The spell rips the magical secrets from the corpses of wizards and clerics.”

“So?” Ron repeated.

“It takes something from someone using foul necromancy.” the doctor replied.

Once more Ron sighed. “No actually it’s a divination spell, just like a detect thoughts spell, which, by the way, can also steal magical secrets from wizards and clerics.”

The doctor paused to think before retorting, “Atleast the detect throughts spell doesn’t require the person to be dead.”

“Okay, “ said Ron, ‘but what about the Speak with Dead spell then, plus its necromancy. Why don’t the hyperventilating Paladins of Imoedae ban that one then? Besides I would’ve thought stealing something from a living person is much worse than looting from a corpse. And on that subject, I’m sure plenty of paladins have gleefully looted the dead bodies of their vanquished foes.”

“But Ron, “ the doctor said, “I’m pretty sure Paladin’s don’t go drinking the blood of their victims.”

Ron snarled and shook his head. “So? ‘Their loss then. Bloody spineless hypocrites, it’s just so much more honorable to bludgeon and smash people to death, take their stuff but Oh No drinking their blood is just too horrific.”

“Alright Ron, “ said the doctor in a calming voice. “You’ve made your point, but you drank the blood of your own comrade; a man that led you through the Mwangi Expanse to the Monkey City. Did you feel no remorse? No respect for what he did? Did you really think it was appropriate?”

Ron gave the doctor a crooked smile and shook his head. “Hey I was the one that wanted to use a raise dead scroll to bring one of them back. I was the one that cut their hands off in case we could get them resurrected.”

The doctor shook his head, ‘But you also looted their bodies, left them to rot … and drank their blood. How would you feel if they did that to you?”

Ron laughed. “I’d say go right ahead. Only too happy to help. Dead people are dead, they don’t care about their blood or what they are wearing. As for looting, Doctor, I thought you had studied us adventurers? We take everything of value, even if it’s bolted to the floor.”

“Hmm , “ the doctor sounded. “Clearly I’m not going to sway your argument, but you need to understand that most people see that kind of things as disrespectful.”

“I’m not most people.” Ron quickly replied.

“Evidently not.” Said the doctor.

There was more silence, broken once more by the sound of pistachio shells hitting the bin. Finally Ron spoke. “Okay I answered honestly can I go now?”

“Alright. See you tomorrow then.”