Roderick had heard the hubbub of excited voices, and was already running when he rounded the corner and saw a very large number of barbarians packed into the hallway leading to Human Resources.
"Water!" someone was yelling. Someone else yelled, "Can't get through! Too many people in here!"
"Damn," Darwin said. "They weren't supposed to be here yet."
Another shout came from down the hallway. "Somebody get some water, before it spreads to the library!"
"What do you mean, they weren't supposed to be here?" Roderick asked.
"Oh, shit," Darwin breathed, and pointed at the flickering orange glow reflecting off the wall at the end of the hallway.
Roderick looked, and his face went pale. But when he turned to say something else, Darwin had disappeared.
"Johnson!"
Johnson had been trying hard to ignore the commotion out in the hallway, but Valkirg had quite a resonant voice. It was hard to ignore. He reluctantly pulled himself to his feet and picked up both of his books. The librarian was nowhere in sight. Johnson tightened his grip on the books and ventured out into the hallway.
Valkirg spotted him immediately, and began shoving his way through the crowd. As anyone who has ever tried to shove through a crowd of barbarians, all of them packed into a medium-sized hallway and watching a good fire, will tell you, this is not an easy thing to do. Johnson cringed, and made a note to study up and try not to piss Valkirg off again.
"What in Bog's name were you thinking?" Valkirg roared as he got within roaring distance. "How many times have I told you? You're supposed to pillage before you burn!"
Johnson continued to cringe. "S-sorry, boss," he said.
"Sorry? Now we'll never be able to find those records. The whole reason we broke in here was so we could prove the union has been hiring scabs! But you just burned all the evidence!" Valkirg thrust through the remaining few bodies and put his face four and a half inches from Johnson's. "And you're just sorry?"
"I'm -- I'm working on it, boss," Johnson stammered. He held up his copy of Looting and Pillaging for Dummies.
Valkirg glowered. A few nearby barbarians caught sight of the book's title, and a wave of laughter started to spread through the crowd. Johnson's cheeks turned red.
Finally Valkirg turned away in disgust. "Okay, everybody, show's over. Time to go home. And no pillaging." A loud grumble of protest rose from the crowd, but he drew his finger across his neck and they shut up.
"Remember that your union dues will pay for any cleanup and repair that needs to be done. Mine, too. Anyone who takes anything, or causes any unnecessary damage" -- here he shot a glare at Johnson -- "will cost all of the rest of you. So I suggest you keep an eye on your colleagues on our way out. No pillaging."
There was more loud grumbling, but barbarians slowly started to file back toward the main stairway. Many of them shot nasty glares at Johnson.
"Um, boss?" Johnson said timidly. "That 'no pillaging' thing. Does that mean I can't hang onto this?" He held up Looting and Pillaging for Dummies again. "Um, you know, for continuing-ed credit?"
Valkirg stared at him, then snorted loudly. "Sure. Hang onto it. You'll need it. Be sure to read the chapter on how to survive when you've just cost every one of your union brothers a big chunk of change."
Johnson brightened. "Oh, you mean you've read it?"
Valkirg's face turned half a shade redder. "Shut up, Johnson. Just be glad that the union rules don't allow me to fire you. But this will go on your permanent record. And if you don't shut up, I'll give you a suspension."
"Yes, boss," Johnson said quietly.
Valkirg turned and stalked away.
Johnson stood against the wall for a long moment, until his eye caught a flash of blue coming his direction. Then he abruptly turned and followed along with the rest of the horde making their way toward the exit. Tried to follow along, anyway, because he immediately received several nasty shoves and an "accidental" elbow to the ribs, before someone finally tripped him and he went sprawling into the corner.
"Hey, Johnson, we'll see you later," called one of the last barbarians heading down the hallway. Then the last of them rounded the corner, and Johnson could only hear their laughter and shouts.
"Well, well, well, it seems you do have a name," came a familiar voice from above him.
"Lay off," he mumbled, and turned away.
Stan finally found Barbara in the hallway, just as all but one of the barbarians were leaving. "Well," he said, "looks like HR is a total loss. Which means we're all in for a total shitstorm on the next payday."
"Sure, rub it in," muttered the barbarian on the floor.
"Huh? Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to blame the barbarians in general," Stan said awkwardly. "It's just whichever --" Barbara was waving frantically at him, and he gave her a puzzled look as he spoke -- "whichever dunderhead set fire to the office. I mean, Human Resources, for crying out loud --"
Stan stopped talking, because suddenly the barbarian was towering over him.
"Oh, sure, pretty boy," the barbarian breathed, "I'm sure everything comes so easy for you. I'm sure you've never screwed up in your entire goddamn career. Well, do you know what it's like to be a screw-up?" He took a step forward, and Stan involuntarily took a step backward. "Do you know what it's like to always be the one who always gets caught under the falling rubble? The one who always does the wrong thing? The one who can't even intimidate a lone bard?" His eyes were wide open and bloodshot. Stan scrambled a few more steps backward, but the barbarian strode forward and grabbed Stan by the shirt. "You don't know what it's like!"
There followed a long, awkward moment.
Finally, Barbara broke the silence by saying, "Um, this is all a little awkward. Why don't we start with introductions?"
Two pairs of eyes swiveled to look at her.
"It's my right, as the resident bard, to insist on formal introductions," she told them sternly.
"But -- but I was intimidating him so well!" complained Johnson.
"Yeah, he was," Stan agreed breathlessly.
"Johnson, may I present Stan, a guard of the Henchmen's Union," she said formally.
Johnson sighed, let go of Stan's shirt, and presented his hand. Stan timidly stuck out his own hand, and they shook, as Barbara said, "Stan, may I present Johnson, a barbarian of the Henchmen's Union."
Running footsteps approached. "Hey, Stan! Barbara! Guess what!"
"Oh," said Barbara, "and that's Roderick."
Roderick skidded to a stop in front of them. "Hey, Stan. Hello, Barbara. Oh, hi, Johnson. Hey, Stan, take a look at this!" He thrust a tri-fold brochure in front of Stan's face.
"Uh, actually, I think I left my glasses in the barracks," Stan said, patting his shirt pockets.
"I'll read it," offered Johnson, plucking the brochure from Stan's hands. "Benefits of Becoming a -- Becoming a --" He grabbed Clawing Toward Phonics from his pouch and started thumbing through the first chapter.
"Oh, for heaven's sakes, I'll read it," said Barbara, snatching it. "Benefits of Becoming a Paladin."
Everyone looked at Roderick in shock.
"You're thinking of becoming a Paladin?" asked Stan in horror.
"Hey, cool. You'll be great for the job," exclaimed Johnson.
Barbara lowered her head into her hands. "Heaven help us all," she murmured.
"Yeah, it'll be great! It's got maps of Mount Paladin and everything," Roderick said excitedly. "I mean, imagine if there had been a Paladin guarding here today! Things would have gone a lot differently, you can bet on that!"
Barbara looked up, a faint frown on her face. "Well, that's certainly true," she admitted.
Stan grabbed the brochure and squinted at it, holding it at arm's length. "So wait a minute. There haven't actually been any Paladins since Sir Jello, and that was over a thousand years ago. Why the heck would a brochure with maps be popping up just now?"
"That's a good point," said Barbara. "Let's check the back, see if there's a press date or a copyright date." She took the brochure, flipped through it. "Nope. So we don't even know when it was printed. Roderick, where on earth did you get this?"
"Oh, Darwin gave it to me."
"Who?" Stan said.
"Darwin. You know, the short guy in black, from outside the castle gates this morning."
"What?" Barbara said. "Why on earth would an Evil Overlord give you something like this?"
"Well, he said he was leaving the union," Roderick said with a shrug. "He wanted to give me this because it would piss off all the other Evil Overlords."
"But where would he have gotten it?" Stan wanted to know.
"My guess would be, from right here in the castle," Roderick said. "He had some guys wheeling out a bunch of filing cabinets and stuff."
"Here?" Barbara exclaimed. "What on earth would a brochure like that be doing here?"
"Oh! I know!" Johnson pulled out his copy of Looting and Pillaging for Dummies. "Here, on the back cover. Where it says 'Advance Praise for Evil Overlords for Dummies.' They quoted a short excerpt."
Barbara took the book, and read aloud, "'The artifact which is the source of my power will not be kept on the Mountain of Despair beyond the River of Fire guarded by the Dragons of Eternity. It will be in my safe-deposit box.'"
"Exactly," said Johnson. "And what place would be safer than the headquarters of the Evil Overlords' Union? Who would even think to look here?"
"Darwin thought to look here," Barbara pointed out, as she flipped through the brochure and glanced at the maps.
"Hey," Stan said, "does it say anything in there about the qualifications for becoming a Paladin?"
Barbara flipped back to the table of contents. "Hmm. I don't see anything offhand. And I don't remember any of the old songs saying much about it. Just that the Paladin 'fights for a worthy cause'."
Stan looked at Roderick. "Paladins are a Grade 7 pay scale, right?"
"Grade 7?" Roderick frowned, then shrugged. "I don't know. I thought the union only went up to Grade 6."
"Only because there haven't been any real Paladins since the union was formed," Barbara said absently, still looking through the brochure.
"I'll come with you," Stan announced.
Roderick frowned. He could guess what Stan was getting at, but -- two Paladins? Share the glory with someone else?
Well, but there would probably be more than enough girls to go around... and after all, just becoming a Paladin wasn't so much the glorious part -- it was fighting evil afterwards. And there would be plenty of time for that.
"Yeah," Roderick said slowly, "you are pretty good with a sword, and all."
"Held off a horde of barbarians just today," Stan prompted.
"Uh-huh. So yeah, that sounds like a pretty good idea. And, uh, of course we'll need a bard along, to, uh, chronicle the events, and all that..."
Barbara looked up at Roderick, then at Stan. "Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world," she said dryly.
"I'll come too," Johnson announced.
"You?" said Barbara and Stan together, with identical looks of shock.
"Um, well, if that's okay," Johnson said hastily. "I mean, it's not exactly like I can go back to the horde, after the way I screwed up today."
"You... want to become a Paladin?" Barbara asked, still looking dazed.
"Me?" Johnson looked horrified at the thought. "Oh, no! I'm a loot-pillage-burn-and-intimidate kind of guy, I'd make a lousy Paladin. I just want to come along as a bodyguard." He grinned. "The rest of the horde would treat me with a lot more respect if I'd been along with the first successful Paladin expedition in a thousand years!"
"That sounds like a great idea to me," said Roderick enthusiastically. "Four is a great number for an expedition! So what are you all waiting for? Let's go get some horses and gear!"
Barbara flipped back to the brochure's table of contents. "Preparing for your expedition," she read. "Boy, whoever wrote this certainly did plan things out, didn't they?"
Stan glanced sidewise at the brochure. "Yeah, well, I've been on a few expeditions before. If they're trying to trap us into something, I should be able to spot it." He grinned. "But hey, Roderick's got a point. What are we waiting for?"
Stan and Roderick set out toward the front gates. Barbara and Johnson trailed along behind.
"By the way," Barbara said, "it occurs to me that I know your name now. So if you try anything funny, I can just go ahead and finish that song."
"Don't trust me, eh?" He shrugged. "Well, I did try to intimidate you. But... well, just remember, if you write a song about me, then I can just tell everyone all about how it was your idea for me to do all that burning."
Barbara opened her mouth, then closed it again.
"Just so we understand each other," Johnson said in satisfaction.
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