The world runs on Plot Armour

In the world of storytelling there are rules that universally apply across all stories, when you get a bad feeling about something you should just listen and go home. If you find a golden idol, just leave it where it is, the life of an adventurer just isn't for you. If you hear a knock at the door, especially at night, just pretend you didn't hear it. The world of storytelling runs off of an old saying, "If you dodge the gun you'll just get hit by the bullet" There are three types of people in the world; those with plot armour, those who know the rules and those who die horribly because they don't know either. I was in the second category, which meant I had to rely on those with plot armour to get me through life, so when a young man with a sword walked into the local tavern I went over to try my luck. —- He was an adventurer, fresh off the boat, he had the typical "chosen one" aura around him that made him stand out in the crowd. I didn't see a sword at his side but I knew it was coming and with it hordes of orcs, goblins and bandits hankering to kill him, and by extension, anyone close to him. I pulled up a chair and sat opposite him, he eyed me warily but I could tell he was a chatty one so I decided to go for broke. "You look like an adventurer," I started. "Fresh off the boat, recently called by the prophecy, got a holy sword that you haven't found yet but you know is coming." "What makes you think that?" "Experience." "What do you want?" "I'm looking for a job." "I'm not rich," he said. "That's fine, I'm not looking for pay, just a safe place to stay while the world goes to shit." He didn't reply, just finished his beer and left. I followed him, he was my only hope after all. We walked through the port, towards the forest, he stopped when he realised I was following him. "You know where I can find a cheap bed and a hot meal?" I asked. "No." "Then what are you doing?" "I'm a wizard," he said. "I'm looking for the Maveldorian staff, it has the power to bring peace to the world." "You're not a wizard," I said. "If you were a wizard you would know that staffs choose the wizard, not the other way around and the Maveldorian would not choose you." "Why not?" "You don't have plot armour," I said. "That staff has more plot armour than you could dream of, you touching it would just be a tragic accident that the owner wouldn't notice for years and even then would only consider it a minor setback." "They're either hiding it or have lost it," he said. "Its power is needed in the world, surely you can feel it." "No," I said. "And neither can you, you just know the name of the staff, you have no idea why you want it or even what it looks like." "I know it will bring peace," he said. "To who?" "To everyone." "You're not going to end up saving the world, you're just going to end up dead," I said. "I have to try," he said. "The world needs saving, I am its best chance." "You won't even get out of this forest alive," I said. "If you're lucky you'll get to die saving me, other wise you'll just be another bandit/wolf/orc/ghoul victim. What good will that do?" "I'd die saving someone, that makes it worthwhile." "You won't save me," I said. "If you were capable of saving me then I wouldn't be here, I'd be somewhere else, with someone who does have plot armour." "It's too late," I said. "You've already met me, I'm your plot burden, your millstone, your cross to bear, your Samwise Gamgee without the plot armour." "I'll try," he said. "I'll do my best to keep you alive." "You won't succeed," I said. "But that's why I'm here, to try and get through the story with as few fatalities as possible." "Then why follow me?" He asked. "You have more plot armour than anyone else around here and you're looking to get more, it's my best chance of survival." "Why not stay in town?" "They're not stupid," I said. "Everything you do will reflect onto them, if you want to steal something then having a theif in their town is a bad thing, if you're a hero then they'll be your port in the storm. They won't want that, they're too smart, they know the rules, that's why they don't want me around." He didn't reply, he just turned and walked away. "It won't be bandits that get us," I called after him. "They're too obvious, too cliche. No, we'll die to something more original, wolves probably or a log fall, something that'll seem insignificant to you now but one day you'll remember and kick yourself." He didn't seem to hear me, I followed him anyway. We walked the forest, his sword at his side and I tried my best to explain to him the world he was in, the lack of rules, the lack of logic and the lack of survival chances. "You know where you're going?" I asked. "No," he said. "But I'll know it when I see it." "Of course you will," I said. "And so will I and everyone else, we'll all watch as we walk into whatever trap we're walking into, we'll all know and none of us will say anything." "You can stop following me if you want." "I don't want to," I said. "But I will if I see an alternative, I'm not your friend, I'm just following you because you're the safest option." He grunted. "I've been alive for a while," I said. "I've seen a lot of people, I know what keeps me alive." "You've seen a lot of people die," he said. "You have no idea," I said. "But that's why I'm following you, because you might not die, because your story might just end happily." "I plan on it," he said. "Of course you do," I said. "So did the others, they all died." "You're just making this up to stop me," he said. "I'm making it up to get you to turn around, cross the road and get on a ship to a different part of the world. Somewhere you might have a chance." "I'm not leaving," he said. "Then I'm not leaving," I said. "You need someone to talk to, you need someone to say 'are you sure this is a good idea?' But I know it's not, I know that you won't listen, I know that I'll end up dead." "I'll try to keep you alive," he said. "I know you will," I said. "And that's why I know I'll die." We sat down on a log, night had started to fall and given that we were in a forest we werent lost so decided to just stop wherever we were and set up camp. "What's your name?" He asked. "I'm not sure," I said. "I was once called Eustace, but that was a long time ago, I've been called a lot of things since then, most negative, some neutral, none positive." "I'm Deorn," he said. "And this," he said, drawing his sword. "Is Gurdor the unbreakable." I looked at Gurdor the unbreakable, it was a standard European broadsword, it was a nice enough sword, but it wasn't magical and even if it was it certainly wasn't unbreakable, but I knew better than to say that. "It makes you strong," I said. "It does," Deorn said. "I'm the strongest man alive because of Gurdor." "You're not strong," I said. "You rely on that sword to make you strong, without it you're nothing, if that sword breaks then so will you." "It won't break," he said. "You can't guarantee that," I said. "But that doesn't matter, your story needs you to survive so that sword will too." "It's not just the sword," he said. "It's my training, I've worked my whole life to be as strong as I am." "That's why you're here," I said. "A recently called chosen one, with a holy sword, looking for magical artefacts to defeat the big bad, if you were weak you'd just have been cut down by now." "I'll protect you," he said. "You don't need to be scared." "I'm not scared," I said. "I'm just accepting my fate, you're not going to save me Deorn, you're going to kill me." "I'm not going to kill you," Deorn said. "Don't worry about it," I said. "It's not your fault, it's just that without me you'd just steam roll everything in your path, you need me to die so that you can realise how serious this all is." "I don't want you to die," Deorn said. "I know," I said. "You'll cry at my funeral, you'll go on a binge to get over me, it'll be a character building experience for you." "I'm going to bed," Deorn said. "Me too," I said. "Wake me up when the wolves get here." IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT... So this is it,

The world runs on Plot Armour

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