by Ramy Vance
“Fine, fine. She can have it. I don’t ever want to be haunted by her.”
Sandy snatched up the card. “Thanks, babe.”
“Guess it’s time to head back.”
“More camping?” Stew asked.
“More camping.”
Milos sat in the Red Lion, drinking ale at the bar. Wendy was leaning against the bar, counting copper pieces as she sipped a drink.
The rest of the Red Lion was empty, which went a long way to diminishing the dramatic entrance the Mundanes were going for when they stepped in.
Covered in mud and filth, wearing looks of exhaustion, they stumbled over to a table. Without a word, Sandy folded her arms on the table and rested her head, snoring almost instantly.
Stew leaned back, not saying a word.
Suzuki raised his hand in Wendy’s direction. “Three of your strongest, largest alcohols, please,” Suzuki called.
“You got any money?” Wendy called back, seemingly oblivious to their desperate state.
“I got enough for a month’s stay and to get shitfaced every night, so please, three of your strongest, largest alcohols!”
Wendy poured three ales and put them in front of Milos. “Tell them these are on the house. Give them my congratulations. They’re MERCs now.”
Milos scooped the drinks up and brought them to the Mundanes’ table with the care and efficiency of a seasoned barmaid. He put the drinks down and took a seat next to Sandy.
Suzuki took the mead and glared at Milos. “You guys really talked up the whole loot thing,” Suzuki started. “We hardly got anything.”
Milos looked at Sandy and poked her. When she didn’t move, he took her mead and started drinking. “You think that you’re going to lift something amazing off of killing black flies, you’re crazy.”
“There were goblins.”
“And a giant,” Stew added.
Milos looked at them, his eyes narrowing in thought before his usual jovial smile returned. “All this loot from rancid goblins? I’d say you did well for yourselves. With goblins, you’re lucky if you find anything that isn’t stained with shit. So I’m assuming from your ballsy ordering, that you finished up the task.”
“Swamp is fly free.”
“Why’d it take you so long to get back?”
Stew leaned forward and grabbed the dwarf by the beard. “Because we’ve been chasing down every fucking fly in that swamp,” he growled. “So if you want to talk shit, you should go somewhere else.”
Milos snatched his beard out of Stew’s grasp and chuckled. “If you didn’t know, grabbing a dwarf’s beard means you’re either instigating a duel or trying to fuck.” Milos laughed. “Which one is it for you, sweetie?”
“Not now, Milos,” Suzuki said. “We’re kind of exhausted.”
Milos tossed a pouch of coins on the table.
“Full pay for full work. Also a little bonus. Some settlers out there told us you cleaned up those goblins. Figures that deserves a little extra.”
Suzuki took the pouch and opened it. Piles of silver stared back at him.
“Thanks.” Suzuki scooped up the coins. “Glad to see you guys take notice of good work.”
“Wouldn’t have anyone on board if we didn’t. Now, I’m going to get in touch with Wendy about throwing you guys a right decent party tonight.”
“No, no. I’m so—”
“MERC tradition. You can only leave the bar if you’re going to go freshen up. Which, no offense, you all very badly need to do.”
Milos got up and practically skipped to the bar. Stew groaned loudly as he leaned back in his chair and sipped his ale. “Guess we gotta bring the fire tonight too.”
Suzuki laughed as he got started on his ale. “I could get used to this,” he cheered.
As Suzuki drank, he looked at Wendy and Milos. There were two icons hanging over both of their heads. Suzuki hit his HUD to click on the icon hanging over Milos. The icon read, “Relationship changed from use them carelessly to use them wisely.” Suzuki then clicked on Wendy’s. Hers read, “Increased from Disdain to Friendly.” There was also a small notification at the bottom of the HUD which read, “Local knowledge increase from 0 to 5.”
“Huh,” Suzuki wondered aloud. “Info about relationships, but I haven’t seen one stat for any of our armor or experience.”
Suzuki felt Fred uncurling around his mind. By now, he’d figured out that meant the imp had something to say. Suzuki prepared himself for whatever snide remark was going to slither out of Fred’s fanged mouth.
Your HUD is only doing a little bit of work, Fred hissed, his voice low and almost enticing. It’s picking up on their body language, and that is all. It’s a tool to help you navigate the different communication style of different races. That way you don’t look like more of a jackass than necessary.
How come there’s nothing about my stats?
Because this is real life and not a game. You cannot quantify your skill or aptitude at a certain task. As Sandy realized earlier, if you lack knowledge, you don’t need a computer screen to tell you. Any talent you may have will be based on your actual talent. You don’t need a status effect notification if you wake up hungover and aren’t able to lift your sword without vomiting. Which, may I add, I think you should try to avoid this evening. The Red Lion is unsurprisingly poorly stocked on Weetabix.
Weetabix? How do you know about that? Doesn’t look like there’s a Costco anywhere around here.
Fred didn’t answer. A heavy silence hung over the table as Stew silently sipped at his ale and Fred refrained from speaking. This was a different quiet than Fred usually doled out.
This time it seemed like something might be wrong.
Your previous host? Suzuki ventured.
Fred sighed. It sounded like a balloon being forced to vacate all of its helium. That is none of your business. But you are right to assume that I am troubled. The goblins had a giant within their employment.
Yeah, what’s the big deal?
Goblins and giants hate each other. Giants are notorious for not looking where they are stepping, and goblins are notorious for being squashed under their feet like cockroaches.
Why do you think they’re working together?
You must excuse me, but I am feeling a little tired. All of that combat…I believe that it’s worn me down. Goodnight.
Suzuki felt Fred shut himself away. That was the end of the conversation. That last bit of information was more than Suzuki had been ready for. He hadn’t really thought much about the racial politics between those who were serving the Dark One.
Now that Fred had mentioned it, giants and goblins working together was a very odd thing. It seemed like a sign, but Suzuki did not know of what. He wondered if maybe there was something that either Sandy or Stew’s familiar could tell him about goblin and giant relations.
Milos slammed another round of meads on the table and broke Suzuki’s concentration.
“The celebration starts now,” Milos growled as he climbed onto his chair to tower over Suzuki. “The rest of the MERCs are coming, and they’re coming to party. Try to keep up.”
Suzuki shrugged. He wasn’t in the mood for a huge party, but it didn’t seem it mattered. He’d worry about the giant and goblin problem later. Now was the time to celebrate. Even if he would rather have slept for a week straight.
Chapter Eighteen
The festivities began after nightfall.
Dwarven MERCs were the first to enter the Red Lion. Many of their ales were ready for them before they opened the door. They looked as if they had all just returned from their own quests. Most of them were covered in blood of some color. Their armor was dented and dirty. They took their drinks and retired to the far end of the bar, their small dark eyes watching the Mundanes from afar.
Next to arrive were the halflings. There were fewer of them than the dwarves, but they held themselves proudly. They took their meads and went to their seats. A few mixed in with the dwarves. Most of the halflin
gs sat closer to the Mundanes.
Third to arrive were the elves. Their force was nearly the same as the company of dwarves. The elves took their time ordering their drinks. As the halflings had, some of them mixed with the other races and the rest of them secured seats by themselves.
Last were the humans. They arrived at the bar with a herald of noise and cheers coming from themselves. In a flurry of song and yells, they were milling about the bar yet still keeping mostly to themselves.
As the crowd grew, slowly the human, dwarf, elf, and halfling parties intermixed. The bar was two-deep, and the tables were filled. The barmaids were already starting to make their rounds. Many of the MERCs were still watching the Mundanes.
Suzuki cleared his throat as he shifted in his seat. He didn’t know whose eyes to meet, and looking down at the table seemed like the obvious wrong thing to do. Instead, he cleared his throat and put his sword on the table. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he figured it must mean something.
Across from him, Stew was also fidgeting in his seat.
“What are they all looking at?” Stew asked. “And why is your sword on the table?”
“I don’t know,” Suzuki answered. He started to remove the sword and then stopped. “Milos, what are they staring at?”
“You two lads,” Milos said. “Word’s gotten out about your little quest.”
“Why would word have gotten out? You just said it was a little quest.”
Milos shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his chair. “I might have neglected to mention some important details of safety and concern, but you all figured things out well enough, so I don’t see the point of getting—”
“Did you know there was a giant?”
“What do people really know, you know?”
“God damn it, Milos!”
Milos raised his tankard and smiled widely as if he could power through the uncomfortable situation by sheer goodwill. “I didn’t know the giant would be there, lads,” Milos stammered. “There were rumors, but rumors are usually just that: rumors. And to be frank, I wouldn’t have thought that any newbs would be able to take down a giant. I never would have sent you if I had known. But here you are, alive. There, the giant is dead. So it all worked out in the end.”
“You could have gotten us killed,” Sandy mumbled as she sat up. She appeared halfway in and out of a dream. Her eyes were distant and glassy.
“No,” Milos disagreed. He drained the last of his mead and slammed it on the table, causing everyone to jump. “You would have gotten yourselves killed. Every job that a MERC takes involves risk of death. It’s no one’s fault but your own if you get yourself killed. Keep that in mind. We’ll mourn you all the same. A stupid MERC is still a MERC as far as we’re concerned. And only stupid MERCs die stupid deaths. Got it?”
The silence of the Mundanes was close enough to an agreement. Milos surveyed the table. There was a noticeable change in tone. The Mundanes didn’t seem to care that they were being honored.
Suzuki would have rather been sleeping than drinking his second mead. Their quest had taken a lot out of him. Taking on a small horde of goblins and a giant had not been as draining as he would have assumed but, that being said, he still wanted to sleep for the next ten to twelve hours.
“Ah, come on,” Milos shouted. “Let’s get a little party in you guys. You deserve it. Hey, Diana, get over here!”
A MERC from a table not far away turned her head at the sound of her name. She wore a turban, and her armor was loose and vaguely Arabic. A scimitar hung from her side, and her face was veiled with black silk.
“What the fuck you want, half-man?” Diana asked.
“We need a little pick me up.”
Diana stood and wafted over to the table. She moved as if she were somewhat separate from their reality. Her feet didn’t seem to touch the ground, and as she turned the corner to come sit at their table, her body shifted out of focus and she was gone. Within less than a second, she was sitting across from Suzuki.
“Hey, how are you doing that?” Suzuki asked.
Diana raised her hand and ran it over her face. The black veil shimmered and then lengthened with the motion of her hand. “Illusion magic is my specialty. Some people like to swing a sword. I prefer to play to my own sensibilities.”
“Can you teach me?” Sandy’s eyes suddenly were alive with excitement. Any trace of tiredness had been obliterated by curiosity. “I tried to cast an invisibility spell while we out in the field but couldn’t. My familiar said—”
“You weren’t well-versed enough in the theory of color or light? Some bullshit like that, aye?”
“Yeah. I mean, aye.”
Diana leaned back and kicked her boots up on the table, knocking over one of the drinks. She motioned for the barmaid. “First things first. Pick me ups for the victorious adventurers.” Diana reached into a pouch hanging from her side. She pulled out five long, green peppers which ended with a small blossom on their ends. A pepper was tossed to everyone at the table. “All right. We all take a bite. Count of three.”
Stew prodded his pepper with his finger, eyeing it suspiciously. “What exactly is this?”
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing illegal. Just a little something I picked up while I was doing research. It has healing properties, specifically involving sleep and energy. Kind of like a Blood Rage spell, minus the part where you want to kill everything. Hopefully. One. Two. Three.”
They all bit into their peppers. Suzuki’s entire face went numb for a second before flushing with intense heat. His mouth felt on fire. Then he saw actual smoke pouring out, and he realized it didn’t just feel as if he were on fire. His mouth actually was.
He grabbed his drink and started guzzling. As the mead soothed Suzuki’s mouth, he felt his muscles relax—and euphoria hit him like a tidal wave. Then his tongue started tingling. The tingle traveled down the back of his throat and to his stomach.
He burped and expelled a little smoke. Any residual sleepiness was gone.
“That usually helps with late-night stakeouts or watches.” As Diana spoke, bits of her pepper inelegantly fell out of her mouth. “Plus, it doubles as a delectable garnish. Now, what were you asking me?” She pointed at Sandy with the stem of a pepper.
“How did you learn to do illusions?” Sandy queried.
“Research. And more research. You’re a mage, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’ve been having fun throwing fireballs and making little snowstorms.”
Sandy’s smile faded, and she looked crushed. She had the look of a child who’s answered a teacher’s question incorrectly. Suzuki didn’t think that Sandy had anything to be embarrassed about. Those fireballs had pulled the Mundanes’ asses out of the fire on multiple occasions.
“Sandy’s been holding up just fine,” Suzuki chimed in.
“Yeah.” Stew put a hand on Sandy’s shoulder. “She’s been killing it out there.”
“I don’t doubt that. Mages have the easiest time their first few quests. Everyone else has to run around, swinging swords and tiring themselves out. Even with the improved stamina and strength, we’re all still only human. Except for the non-humans, obviously. But mages? They just swoop around and start dropping fireballs and earthquakes. They don’t last forever, though.”
Diana hit her HUD and a book materialized in her hand. She tossed the book in front of Sandy. “It’s an introductory primer for magic. It’s pretty basic, but you’ll find everything you need in it to get started. This, however, is only the beginning. I suggest hitting the books too. Your friends will get better with real-world experience. You, on the other hand, are going to have to do a lot of reading to diversify your spells. You might want to start using the Red Lion’s library too while you’re here.”
Diana popped her pepper stem before standing. She spat a small fireball out on the table and put it out with a snap of her fingers. “Pay attention to the section on Magical Dependency.”
Standing, she pulled down the veil to cover her face and the skin on the sides of her neck cracked as a bright blue light emanated out of the cracks as if her body were made entirely of pure energy. She winked at Sandy. “If you’re planning on being here for a while, you might as well know what you’re getting yourself into,” she said as she walked off.
Sandy was awestruck, her mouth wide open before she remembered the book in her hands. Seeing the tome and realizing that this book was the beginning of her journey to be like Diana, Sandy tucked into it, a devilish smile painting her face.
“Milos.” Suzuki turned to the dwarf. “Who was that?”
“Diana,” Milos answered, his drunken gaze obviously admiring Diana’s ass as she walked away.
Suzuki snapped his finger twice. “Focus, dwarf. I know her name. That’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking, ‘Who is she?’ What’s her story?”
Milos lifted his hand in defeat. “Her story? Well, Diana, there is a living legend. She was responsible for ending the Siege of Tulmarth single-handedly. She’s probably the second-best MERC to have ever lived.”
“And who’s the first?” Suzuki asked.
“José. He’s part of her party and the oldest known MERC. José was one of the first humans to come to Middang3ard, and it is legend that he’s so old his HUD only displays in ancient Aramaic.”
Stew laughed, downing his drink and reaching for Sandy’s. “Aramaic? Who is this guy? Jesus?”
“He just might be,” Milos said with an air of deadly seriousness. “We don’t really know, but the man is nearly invincible. No one knows much about him except that some elder Chipmaster installed something weird in his HUD the day before he died…for the first time.”
“Did you say, ’Died for the first time?’ As in he’s died more than once?” Suzuki asked. “I thought death here is real death, right?”
Milos nodded. “For most of us. But for José, it's different. The legend is that he went on some quest, where his party gets in heavy with a cave troll. The troll clear rips his face off and slams him against a rock. After his party finally puts the troll down, most of them are half-dead mind you, they walk up to José, you know, getting ready to bury him and everything. They all saw how hard of a hit he took. So they finally get to him, and he’s still breathing. Faceless, but still breathing. So they bring him back to the Red Lion. None of the mages can fix him up. They say the damage is too permanent. So he spends the night holed up in his room, probably trying to figure out how he’s gonna live a life without a face.