by Ramy Vance
“Breath, Stew. One word. At. A. Time.”
“Sandy. Wants. To. Bone.”
“Okay, I get it, you guys fuck all the—”
“No, no, dude. We were just messing with you. We’ve never…uh…I’ve never…” Stew stammered, unable to get the words out. “Don’t get me wrong. We do stuff. Lots of stuff. With our mouths. We just never.” The barbarian lifted his pointer finger and made an ‘O’ with his other hand. Then he tried to get his pointer into the ‘O,’ but in his drunken haze, missed the mark.
“Oh. Got it.” Suzuki grabbed Stew’s hands. “I totally get it.”
Stew ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “What am I going to do?” He hung his head in his hands. “She’s so fucking gorgeous. And so cool. What if I fuck it up? Like, get too nervous, and something happens. Or doesn’t happen. Oh god, what if I can’t get—”
“Again, I get it.” Suzuki sat down next to Stew. “You could talk to her about it. Let her know how you’re feeling. It might—”
“I could use magic,” Stew interrupted.
“Or you could use magic.” Suzuki narrowed his eyes, unsure of what Stew had in mind.
“Yeah, I could ask GB.” Stew snapped his fingers in rapid succession as he formed some harebrained scheme. “He could help me.”
“Stew, you know what Sandy said about magic. You kind of have to know a little about what you’re messing with.”
“I know enough. I’ve taken health classes. Hey, GB?” There was a loud pop and a stone donkey’s head popped out of Stew’s chest. “Woah, cool.”
GB brayed lazily. “Yeah?” he asked.
“Is there something you could do to help me? Like some magic spell or something? When we were doing those medical exams, mages were stretching and growing every part of my body. Could you help me with something like that?”
Stew glared at Suzuki and then looked back down at GB. “We should talk privately. Suzuki, out.”
Suzuki raised his hands defensively as he got off the bed and slunk away. “Your call. I still think you should talk to her.”
“Yeah, yeah. Out.”
Suzuki left the room and closed the door quietly behind him. He walked back downstairs. The party was still raging. His fifteen minutes of fame weren’t over yet, but he couldn’t have been less excited. He snuck around the majority of the crowd, went straight to the bar, and grabbed a drink.
Wendy handed him a tankard. He paid and asked if he could order something to eat and have it brought to his room.
“Hungry? We got chicken liver mousse and hippogriff rump with a glaze of calcified unicorn tears.”
“Unicorns can cry?” Suzuki wondered aloud.
“They ain’t supposed to. That’s why it’s a delicacy.”
“Sure, I’ll take that.”
Suzuki paid for his meal, took his mead, talked briefly to the landlord, and went upstairs to the separate room he had taken, given the conversation with Stew. He closed the door, collapsed onto his bed, and rested his mead on his chest. After debating whether he wanted to risk choking to death, Suzuki sat up a little bit and sipped some of the foam off his drink.
Surprisingly, he felt Fred uncurling in his mind.
Human, do you mind if I step out for a moment? Fred ventured.
You don’t have to ask me, Suzuki answered. Pop out whenever you want.
The room filled with the smell of brimstone, and Suzuki felt his chest opening up. A portal had appeared in his chest and smoke was coming from it. Fred’s claws reached out of the portal, and the imp climbed out of Suzuki’s chest. The portal shut behind him. Fred stretched his wings and claws. He coughed a little, causing flames to fly from his nose.
“Thanks for the help back there,” Suzuki said. “With Sandy. And the krampus.”
Fred curled up on the bed and rested his arms between his legs. He looked like a dragon trying to be a cat. “My pleasure,” Fred hissed. “You seem to have an affinity for José. You were staring at him for some time. Why is that?”
Suzuki made an odd face, as if he were smelling something he would have preferred never to have never smelled and he laughed awkwardly. “I wasn’t staring at him,” Suzuki mumbled. “Besides, why are you asking?”
“You did not answer my question. You suggested that Stew talk to Sandy. You also insinuated that I should have discussed my feelings with you earlier. Now you refuse to talk? Are you a hypocrite or just weak-minded?”
“Okay, fine. What do you want to know?”
“Why you are so infatuated with José?”
Suzuki shrugged. “I am not infatuated. Just interested. He is one of the oldest living humans to have been granted access to Middang3ard. He has to know things no one else does.”
Fred nodded. “I see. As one who wishes to know before acting, you seek to understand more from that legendary adventurer. I understand and do agree that his aversion to death does make him interesting. Still, I have met many immortals, and as far as immortals are concerned, he is something of a…hmm…how would your soulmate say it? ’Douche nozzle.’”
“Wait, what do you mean soulmate?”
“The human your heart is always drooling over.”
Suzuki was getting sick of everyone calling him on his feelings for Beth. “I have the hots for her. Does that make her my soulmate?” He tried to really sell it, but in his heart, he knew he had more than the hots.
“Fine. Then you wish her to be your soulmate. Whether this happens or not is largely dependent on your actions. As for José, yes, “douche nozzle.” That would be an apt term for him.”
“Again, why would you say that about him—?”
But before Suzuki could finish his question, there was a huge crash from upstairs, followed by the sound of wood cracking and furniture being frantically shoved aside.
Then Suzuki heard someone scream, “Get that thing the fuck away from me.”
Sandy. She was in trouble.
Fred vanished into Suzuki as he ran upstairs only to see Sandy screaming on the landing of the second floor.
She was pointing into their room, her face twisted in disgust.
There was something in there. An enemy? Maybe another krampus out for revenge.
And if Sandy found something disgusting, it must be truly horrifying Suzuki thought as he took a play out of the Leeroy Jenkins’ playbook and charged into the dark room head-first, crashing right into a hulking figure.
They both went tumbling down onto the ground, and when Suzuki finally managed to disentangle himself, his jaw dropped as he got a good look at what was scaring Sandy.
Stew was sitting pants-less on the floor. And in between Stew’s legs was his engorged penis, which now stretched to his feet and was nearly the girth of both of Stew’s thighs.
The veiny, pulsing mess didn’t even look like a human appendage anymore.
“Oh, God…the veins,” Suzuki shouted, covering his eyes, desperately wishing he could unsee what he had just seen. “What the fuck did you do to yourself?”
“It was GB’s idea. I didn’t know—”
Sandy burst into the room, her eyes blazing. “Do you see what this idiot has done to himself?”
Stew turned to face Sandy, but he stumbled over his words. He finally stopped trying and just sat there, with Suzuki and Sandy standing above him, a look of horror on each of their faces.
“Sandy,” Stew finally started. “I…I guess…I guess I was worried that you…uh…wouldn’t be happy with my…ahh…performance.”
“For fuck’s sake, Stew.” Sandy knelt next to him. “You could have just talked to me before you decided you wanted to be Ron Jeremy.” Sandy kissed Stew on the forehead. “I love you. You don’t have to be worried about things like this. Ever.”
“I love you too, babe.”
Suzuki was inching toward the door. “I feel like this is something you guys should talk about in private,” he said as he opened the door, slowly backing out.
If I can just sneak away,
he thought, but then there was another crash. This one came from downstairs, and it was louder than what Suzuki had heard before.
The crash was followed by an ominous boom, then another, and finally a third that literally rocked the whole Red Lion.
“What the fuck—” Suzuki started when he heard someone yell, “The Red Lion is under attack!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Suzuki hit his HUD and his armor rolled over his body. “What the fuck? I thought this was our sanctuary. Come on, guys.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Stew shouted.
“Can you stand?” Suzuki asked.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know. Swing your dick like a windmill or something. But get up. Listen to those screams. They need us.”
Stew grumbled and Sandy helped him to his feet, taking care not to touch the flaccid atrocity hanging between Stew’s legs.
Stew hit his HUD and his armor shimmered over his body, his kilt stretching down to his ankles to cover his uncomfortable situation.
The Mundanes made their way to the stairs and peered down the staircase.
Running down the stairs, Suzuki saw that the Red Lion was overrun with orcs still pouring in through the front door and two holes they’d made in the side of the inn.
The MERCs were all suited up, and the fight was well underway. Steel from both sides clashed, and the bar was a cacophony of violence.
“Bar fight,” someone shouted.
Lightning crackled from Sandy’s hands. “So cliché,” she muttered under her breath.
Suzuki raised his shield and tackled an orc, sending it tumbling down the stairs. Another orc charged at Suzuki, swinging at him with its club.
Suzuki managed to deflect the attack, then stepping to the side, he swung his sword downwards, slicing off its arm. The other orc was getting back onto its feet, but before it fully got its balance, Suzuki dove forward, swinging his shield to knock it down and sliding his sword into the first orc’s chest in one fluid motion.
Sandy floated downstairs, firing lightning from her hand. The lightning bolts jumped from one orc to another, and when she got to the bottom of the stairs, an orc jumped out at her and knocked her to the ground. Sandy rolled to the side and grabbed the orc’s leg, sending thousands of volts of electricity surging through its body.
The air reeked of toasted flesh.
By the time Stew made it down the stairs, Sandy and Suzuki had already cleared a path to the larger fight that was happening in the main room of the inn.
Stew sought to follow them and join the fray, but an orc dove in from the side, pushing him to the ground. Stew scrambled to his feet and the orc squared off with him, watching him closely as he hobbled around trying to balance his third limb in one hand and his ax in the other.
But it was all proving too much, he simply couldn’t manage both. “Fuck it,” Stew shouted as he grabbed his magically endowed penis with both hands, brandishing it like a club. “You want some? Come get it!”
Sandy had caught up with Suzuki, and they cut and burned their way through the orcs whose backs were turned to them.
Up ahead, Suzuki could see José slashing through orc after orc. Chipmaster was at his side, firing arrows faster than Suzuki could follow.
It was magical watching the two of them working.
Even with an entire bar crawling with orcs, the two of them were working in unison. Back to back.
It was almost like watching a ballet—a ballet which was punctuated by Stew’s screams.
Sandy cast a glance back in Stew’s direction. He was holding his bloody cock in his hands. The orc lay dead at his feet, its skull bashed in. The sight was so ridiculous that Sandy burst out in laughter.
“It’s not funny,” Stew objected loudly. “The head is so sensitive.”
Sandy’s hands turned to the consistency of gravel. She waved her hands and cast Stoneskin on Stew. His skin instantly hardened. “There—a magic prophylactic for you.”
“Thanks, babe,” Stew shouted.
“Don’t thank me too much,” Sandy called back. “Looks like you have a crush.”
Stew turned around to see another orc standing behind him. The orc, a female Stew guessed by its incredible bosom, stared at his crotch for a long, lingering moment before lunging forward with an obscene amount of speed.
Stew took off, hobbling as fast as he could, shouting, “I have a girlfriend!”
Suzuki stepped over the body of an orc and hesitated for a second. “We should go help him?”
Sandy pushed forward, pointing back at the main fray. “More important things right now than Stew’s dick.”
Steel clashed, and flesh was carved. Suzuki could see the MERCs around him falling alongside orcs. The floor was piling with bodies.
Still, Suzuki and Sandy pushed farther into the growing circle of pain and death.
Then there was a flash of lightning as Sandy came up behind him.
“We gotta clear this out,” Suzuki shouted, looking into the room. There were so many bodies fighting against one another in an ebb and flow of movement that it was hard to distinguish between enemy and ally. “There are too many people.”
“Yeah, you think,” Sandy answered.
Suzuki tried to think of something he could do to help the situation. But nothing came to him. There was simply too much going on.
No time to plan.
So Suzuki did the only thing he’d never thought of doing before. He stopped thinking and let himself go. His body moved on its own. He did not know where it went. It was someplace far away. He was thinking about home.
About the friends he had left behind.
His mother.
Beth.
Everything that he was fighting for…and with those thoughts in mind, his instincts did the rest.
He lost himself to the battle, with only quick flashes of what was happening around him entering his mind.
A club swung on a downward arc, barely missing him.
The whishing sound of a sword grazing his helmet.
The battle cries of all those who fought.
He was caught up in the heat of battle, his rage fueling his instincts.
And in all of it, Suzuki saw one more thing…the orcs were being pushed back out of the bar.
It was a slow retreat but still a retreat.
José had climbed up on top of a table and was leading the rallying cry. The MERCs behind him screamed their battle cries, and the orcs returned their own. Suzuki and Sandy were in the front lines, staring down the orcs.
“We finish this here,” José shouted. “MERCs, let’s take back our fucking bar! First round is on me!”
Suzuki, Sandy, and the rest of the front line ran forward. The orcs came at them and they smashed into each other in a chorus of screams, steel, and magic.
The final push had been made. The frontline of the MERCs hacked through what was left of the orcs’ defenses.
A loud horn sounded in the distance, and what was left of the orcs turned back and fled out into the night.
There was an eerie silence that hung over the bar as everyone assessed the damage. The dead covered the floor, both MERCs and orcs.
The walls were stained with blood. No one spoke. There was only the hush and stillness of the dead.
Suzuki stumbled away from the mess of bodies to the staircase. The rest of the MERCs were also trying to gather themselves together.
In the corner of his eye, Suzuki saw Stew walking out of a room. An orc pushed Stew out of the way and bolted out of the bar, disappearing into the night.
Stew’s enlargement spell had worn off.
He walked over next to Suzuki and collapsed on the staircase. Sandy joined them after a bit. They sat there and tried to catch their breath.
But Suzuki couldn’t rest. Not yet. Instead, his eyes were fixed on all of the MERCs who lay at his feet. None of them had been prepared for an attack, a fact clearly worn on the dead MERCs’ faces.
This was
home. And no one expects to be attacked at home.
Across the bar, José was kneeling among the dead, closing their eyes. He looked up at Suzuki but said nothing.
There was nothing to be said.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The night chill had set in as the MERCs solemnly went about their work. The bodies of the dead orcs had been dragged out of the Red Lion and piled high in the alley behind the bar.
When all the bodies had been gathered, one of the older MERC mages came up to the pile and snapped, engulfing the dead orc bodies in fires so intense, the bodies turned to instant ash that was caught up in the wind.
It was by the light of that brief fire that the MERCs attended to their own dead.
The casualties were not high, but they were felt throughout the company. Twenty-two MERCs had died in the fight, and each was draped in black silk wrappings, the garments of the fallen.
José and Chipmaster grabbed one of the bodies and took it outside.
Suzuki jabbed Stew. “We should help.”
Stew and Sandy nodded but neither said anything, following Suzuki back into the Red Lion in silence.
The three of them took a silk wrapping from the pile that had been left beside the dead and wrapped up the body as they had seen José and Chipmaster do.
Then the three of them lifted the body.
It was lighter than Suzuki would have expected.
But then again, Suzuki wasn’t sure what he expected. After all, how much does death truly weigh?
José looked up at the Mundanes and pointed to a pile of shovels laying on the ground. “Glad to see that MERC pride runs through the new kids. Thanks for the help.”
The Mundanes silently grabbed shovels and started digging, tearing up the hard dirt and piling it beside the slowly-growing hole. The two groups worked in silence, the only sound that of their grunting as they dug and the crows cawing in the night.
Once they had finished the first two graves, José and the Mundanes went back into the Red Lion and grabbed two more bodies.
By now, Milos and some other MERCs came over to offer their assistance, and it didn’t take long before all of the bodies were underground.