


Talking Is Not A Free Action

by Markus Ramikin



Category: Quest For Glory, Warhammer
Genre: Adventure, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-24
Updated: 2011-02-24
Packaged: 2014-11-09 22:52:31
Rating: T
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6772713/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2687233/Markus-Ramikin
Summary: This is a short, pointless, crack crossover whose only purpose is to express the following sentiment: I hate Baba Yaga. I really do.





	Talking Is Not A Free Action

**Beta-reader credit**: Space Penguin

**Author's Note:**

_This is a short, pointless, crack crossover whose only purpose is to express the following sentiment:_

_I hate Baba Yaga. I really do._

_To be sure, I do appreciate that she has an important role to play in the story. She takes the hero down a peg and prevents the player from taking him too seriously, keeping the game from becoming a power fantasy. She is a hostile force the hero cannot overcome by sheer strength of muscle (or of the Flame Dart). This is all good and well._

_What gets to me is how Baba gets to recite those stupid poem-spells of hers, and even though you can see the result coming, you have to wait there like a moron and can't do anything about it. The following scribble is a result of this frustration._

* * *

Baba Yaga was displeased. Her frown deepened as the hut shook on impact with the ground.

"Used to be that accursed password was a secret... now every mortal and their dog seem to know how to get into our hut. Isn't it annoying, my pets?"

The bats squeaked something back that might have been agreement.

Baba Yaga turned towards the door, sparing but a thought to the fact that the hut had sat down markedly more roughly than usual, as if its legs had given way instead of letting it lower itself gently. Well, if whoever was coming thought to play rough... The ugly face of the Ogress split into an unpleasant smile.

"Yes, let's see who intends to disturb us this time... might prove useful. We haven't had frog legs in a while."

The figure of the aspiring Hero of Spielburg filled the doorway before he carefully stepped into the hut. The inside was much too spacious to fit into the brown hut's apparent size, but Devon knew better by that time than to expect daytime logic in this place. His grey eyes took in the whole place at once: the alchemical table, the cauldrons and retorts, the sheer ugliness of the walls, the Ogress' pets, and of course the hag herself, gazing back at him disapprovingly. The stench of sorcery was great.

As he focused on her, Baba Yaga started intoning words of power, aiming her crooked hand at the caped figure in front of her:

"Powers of Night,  
Shadows of Day,  
Heed now my Words!  
Henceforth you-"

Devon Aidendale fired a single shot. The psycannon round flared brightly as it ripped through layers of sorcerous enchantment protecting the Ogress, went into her abdomen, and blew a chunk of spine and organs out the other way.

Accompanied by the deafening, insane shrieking of bats, Devon unslung the flamer...


End file.
