by Jared Bellis
“You’re going to try to guilt us into doing what you want, aren’t you?” sighed Ray.
“Look, these people are desperate. Even defective heroes like you could do a great deal of good. Can’t you even consider it?” he implored.
“We’ll see. If we can help without putting ourselves in danger, we will consider it,” answered Ray. Balzac recognized that he wasn’t going to get anything better and dropped it.
“You might want to get your pet monster to stay out here. He’ll cause a panic if you take him into town,” the squirrel advised.
Andrew didn’t like the idea, but reluctantly agreed. Stubby nodded his cute little demonic head and trundled off into the woods.
“What if I can’t find him later?” Andrew worried.
“Don’t worry, he’ll find you. You couldn’t lose him if you tried,” Balzac assured him. They started walking the rest of the way into town.
They had agreed to hide their abilities when they went in, seeing as they didn’t want to attract any undue attention. Joe brought various bits of metal with him, hidden on his person. They brought the bags of fire chicken parts to try to sell, as well. But, Balzac had small hopes for that, knowing the populace was poor.
There was a lone guard house beside the gate on the road leading into town. The gate seemed out of place since there was no wall around town. Guarding the gate was the strangest creature any of them, including Balzac, had ever seen.
It was a man, around six and a half feet tall, weighing at least three hundred pounds. He was wearing boots, a shirt with the sides cut out, short shorts with suspenders, and the remains of a cowboy hat.
“What the fuck is that?” asked Balzac. The guys just looked at him in confusion.
“Who’re you’n?” the large man asked.
“What?” asked Ray.
“Who’re you’n?” he asked with more force.
“Umm, I’m Ray. This is Andrew and Joe,” Ray replied. “Uhh, who are you?”
“Ah’m Burp. Why ya has a rat?” asked Burp.
“It’s a squirrel. His name’s Balzac.”
Burp looked confused. “Why ya name a rat after ya’re nuts?”
“We didn’t. Can we go into town?”
Burp scratched himself. “I na’ know. I jus’ stand’n here.”
“You aren’t guarding the gate?” Andrew cocked his eyebrows as he assessed this huge, strangely dressed man. Burp looked at them stupidly.
“Why gurd a gate when thar no wall?” Burp asked. Balzac facepalmed.
“My morons just got schooled by another moron,” the squirrel said sadly.
The group waved goodbye at Burp and walked into the town. There weren’t many people around, but those they could see were busy working. All of them gave the group suspicious looks.
The town was pretty small with maybe a couple dozen buildings total. Some of them seemed empty, and all of them were run down.
“So where do we go? Do we need to check in somewhere,” asked Joe. Balzac shook his head.
“No, we’ll just look for the tavern. We can get information there, and maybe find a way to make some money.” Balzac guided the companions through the streets until they got to the biggest building in town, the Creep’n Crud.
“This looks…sanitary,” observed Andrew with a grimace as they walked in.
There weren’t many people in there. A few sat at a dirty table in one corner. One or two were leaning on the bar sipping drinks. A tired, bored looking waitress was wandering around with a broom. The bartender scowled at the group as they entered.
“Are you the morons that got outsmarted by Burp at the gate?” he asked. The drinkers are the bar laughed. The crew at the table just looked at them with narrowed eyes.
“Pretty much,” admitted Ray.
“Whadda ya want?” asked the bar-keep.
“Information. We have some goods to sell. Anyone buying?”
“Depends on what you have.”
“Talons and feathers from a giant, flaming Cock,” stated Ray.
“Where in blazes would you get that?”
“From the bird we killed,” replied Joe. Ray and Andrew gave him a dirty look. He hadn’t even been awake for that.
“You expect me to believe you dipshits can kill a monster, but you can’t outsmart the village idiot? What do you take me for?” sneered the barman.
“Look, do you know someone that will buy them or not?” asked Ray before Andrew could speak.
“Let me see what you’ve got,” the man said begrudgingly. The guys opened up the case. The man’s eyes widened in surprise at the quality of the goods the boys were trying to sell.
“What a bunch of junk! I might give you a couple bits for them, but that’s about it,” he offered. Balzac sputtered indignantly.
“Those are pristine, you crook! They’re worth more than this dump you call a tavern!” hollered the irate squirrel.
“You brought a rodent in my place? Why would you do that?” growled the barman.
“To spruce it up? Maybe add some class? Not like this place would pass a health inspection anyway!” added Andrew.
“Get outta here! I don’t wanna see your faces in my place again!” the barman roared. “If I see you around, I’ll call the guard!”
“Why don’t you go shag another sheep, you rancid goat turd!” screamed the now furious Balzac. Ray had to hold the angry squirrel to keep him from attacking.
“That’s it! I’m done with you!” The barman grabbed a rope near the wall. The gang heard a bell start to ring out.
“Uh-oh,” said Andrew. “That can’t be good. Maybe we should leave.”
“NOT ‘TIL I FEED THIS THIEF HIS BALLS!” screamed Balzac. The men at the bar stood and started pulling out weapons.
“Screw it! Light them up, boys!” Balzac shouted. He had a smug grin on his face, but it faltered when he saw the boys standing there, unmoving.
“Guys? They’re going to beat the shit out of you if you don’t do something!”
They looked at each other and nodded. Balzac smiled again, expecting to see hell unleashed on the uppity barkeep and his friends.
“Look, we don’t want any trouble, dude,” started Ray. The three guys raised their hands. “We, uh, surrender and shit.”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? RAY! BLOW THEM WITH YOUR MIGHTY WIND! JOE! MAKE THEM TASTE YOUR BALLS OF FURY! ANDREW! Actually, you’re worthless. Just stand there! GET THEM!”
“Dude, chill out. We aren’t fighting these people,” stated Joe.
“Why not?” whined Balzac. “He tried to cheat you!” he stomped his little squirrel foot on Ray’s shoulder. The door swung open and the guard entered. They surrounded the friends and started crowding them in.
“Take them out guys! They threatened me and my bar! And watch out for their rodent!” advised the barman. “I think it’s rabid. You should probably put it down.”
“I am not rabid!” screamed Balzac indignantly.
Ray and the brothers started to turn and face the guards, but they took it as an aggressive action and cudgeled all three boys to the ground, knocking them out instantly. One of the guards grabbed Balzac and shoved him in a sack. As he was stuffed in, he heard the barman speak.
“Maybe I’ll just keep the crap they tried to sell me, to compensate for emotional damages.”
“Nope, that goes to the guard house. It’s evidence,” replied the lead guard. The barman started a weak protest, but Balzac couldn’t hear anymore as the sack squashed him.
CHAPTER 11
Andrew came to slowly. His head was pounding, and he had a sharp pain at the base of his fingernail.
“Ooow, my head! What’s going on? Why are you biting my finger?!?” he asked groggily.
“I’ve been trying to wake you for forever!” Balzac urgently informed him. “I know you don’t have enough brains to be hurt too bad. You need to heal everyone, so we can get out of here!”
“Quit yelling dude! I feel like I’m gonna puke, and the world keeps spinning.”
Andrew sat up slowly, holding his head in his hands. “Gonna hurl!” he managed to say. And he did. All over the agitated squirrel.
“GAK!” Balzac gagged.
Andrew’s hands began to glow as he healed the damage done to his head. “Thank Clarence! I never would’ve thought being a healer would be a good thing.” He then went over and started healing his friends, while Balzac stood there and dripped puke on the floor. Within moments, the other two guys were awake and alert.
“Dude! Why’d you puke in here Balzac? That’s nasty!” Ray covered his nose as he started a breeze to blow the stink away.
“Andrew puked on me! I’m the victim here!” The squirrel sighed exasperatedly. “Why didn’t you fight back?! You could’ve taken those guys out, no problem!”
“Dude! They’re just people! You said they were poor and ignorant. No reason to hurt anyone for that,” stated Ray.
“Yeah, but those guards? I’m beating their asses! No reason to club us in the head either!” Joe shouted back. Balzac nodded his agreement.
“Hey! Where’s all our stuff?” asked Andrew, looking around.
“If they messed with my decks, I’ll tear this place apart!” warned Joe.
“Could we just get out of here? I’d like to wash this crap off,” asked Balzac.
“I’ll help you out,” offered Ray. He blasted the squirrel with air, getting most of the chunks off.
“Thanks. I think I swallowed some, though.”
The guard house was small, with only one large cell. The friends were the only ones currently incarcerated and there were no guards to be seen.
“Does anyone see any keys?” asked Ray.
“Why bother? You could melt the bars. Joe could rip them out with his magnetism. You don’t need the keys!” Balzac pointed out.
“Destruction of property is not cool, dude!” said Joe. “What happens if they encounter real bad guys and we tore up the jail? They’d be screwed. There’s always a better way.”
“These people assaulted you, tried to steal from you, and you don’t want to fight back? What’s wrong with you? You fought the monsters without any problem!” Balzac stated.
“Sorry, we aren’t all blood-thirsty squirrels. These aren’t monsters, and we don’t want to hurt people! Anyway, I bet I can open the lock without keys. Watch this!” Joe extended his hand and focused. They could hear the mechanism jiggle around in the lock, and the door opened with a soft click.
“Awesome, dude!” praised Andrew. They each gave Joe a high five. Balzac scurried out of the cell to the only door in the building, where he pressed his ear to the wood and listened intently.
“There are several guards in the next room talking,” he informed them. “Be ready!”
The guys crowded around the door and opened it as silently as possible. What they saw in the room horrified them. Their backpacks were messily scattered around, and their precious decks of Magic cards were littering the floor, some dog-eared and bent. As they looked more closely, they saw one of the six guards messing with Joe’s iPhone. Music suddenly blared forth from the little machine, causing the guard to drop it in surprise. He then proceeded to grab his cudgel and smash it to bits.
“MY PHONE! YOU KILLED MY PHONE! YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Joe stormed into the room, a metal storm raging around him. In the blink of an eye, all the guards were pinned to the walls, being held in place by the metal controlled by the furious Joe. The iPhone murdering guard had a band around his neck and was slowly turning colors.
“Dude! You’re gonna kill him! Stop!” pleaded Ray. Joe relented slightly but didn’t release the guards.
“I should rip him to pieces! HE. KILLED. MY. PHONE!”
“I know. It’ll be okay! Everything was backed up on the cloud, right?”
Joe nodded.
“See, it’s cool then! Put them down. Actually, can you put them in the cell? That way we could get out of here without them raising the alarm.” Joe cooperated and moved the terrified guards into the cell, locking the door behind them.
“Dicks!” he spat as he walked away.
Ray and Andrew were busily gathering their belongings, complaining bitterly about the state of their cards.
“I’m beginning to agree with the asshole squirrel,” said Andrew darkly. “My cards are all messed up!”
“Yeah, burning this shit hole town is starting to feel like a great idea!” concurred Ray. Balzac looked stunned.
“So, they can insult you, steal from you, injure you, and lock you up for no reason and it’s okay. But if they damage your precious cards you’re ready to destroy everything?”
The three slackers stopped, looked at each other, shrugged, and nodded.
“Pretty much. Insults don’t hurt anyone, wounds heal, and they really can’t lock us up. But cards can’t be replaced, dude!”
“WORST. HEROES. EVER!” Balzac yelled as he threw his hands in the air.
“Can we just leave now?” asked Ray. The guys had gathered their belongings. Joe even took the pieces of his shattered phone.
“What about the talons and feathers?” asked Balzac. “We need those if you want any money.” They searched around the guard house, but to no avail.
“I’ll ask the guards,” offered Joe. They cowered to the back of the cell as he walked into the room.
“Where’s the rest of our stuff?” Joe glared down at the guards menacingly. They just stared back at him in terror, not encouraged by the fact that he had his metal balls orbiting his head. “You better tell me or I’m gonna smack you around with my mighty balls!”
“Umm, stolen. Sir. The valuables were taken as we transported you here. We left them in the tavern. They were gone when we got back,” answered one of the guards timidly.
“Did you search the place? That dickhole bartender sure wanted them bad enough!” The guards all shook their heads.
“We looked! The bartender was beat up pretty bad, and he said someone else took them. We suspected it was some of the other guys that were in there before.”
“Any idea where they went?” asked Joe.
“Not really. There are reports of bandits in the woods, but we don’t go out there. Too dangerous.”
Joe left the room and reported his findings.
“Guess they’re gone then.” Ray shook his head dejectedly. Balzac also looked dismayed, and was sure there was no way the guys would want to fight to regain their items now.
“I don’t know… Maybe we should try to find them?” suggested Andrew. Balzac looked at him in shock, but he recovered quickly.
“Yes! You should!” the squirrel agreed, nodding his head rapidly.
“Yeah, those guys looked shitty! Taking our stuff while we were knocked out isn’t cool either. We should go after them,” added Joe. Balzac did a happy dance.
“Whatever. If that’s what you guys want. Majority rules,” complied Ray.
“YES!” shouted Balzac, excited they were finally acting heroic. They all gave him a strange look. “What? We should get going.”
“Any idea how to track the package?” asked Ray.
“Nope. I figure we try to find the bandits,” the squirrel said reasonably. “If we find them, we find the stuff they stole. Who knows, we may even discover more stuff that could help the people around here!”
“Quit fluffing our balls. We already said we were going after them. Can we get out of here now?” grumbled Ray.
They made their way out the door slowly and carefully. Night had fallen while they were stuck in the cell, making it easier for them to sneak out of town. The only light visible was from the tavern. Everyone else seemed to be asleep. In a farm town like this, it was likely that they were up and down with the sun.
The group started walking out of the town, figuring they had it made. They were just walking past the tavern and heading for the edge of town when they heard someone raise the alarm. They looked behind and saw the guards, all fully armed and charging after them.
“How did they get out of jail?
” demanded Balzac.
“Did you think to search them for the keys when you threw them in the cell?” Ray asked Joe.
“Oops! My bad…”
“RUN!” yelled Andrew. Balzac scampered up Ray’s leg as they took off. The noise brought people out of the tavern, and they witnessed the group running for the edge of town, joined by the guards in hot pursuit.
“SHIIIIIIIT!” screamed Balzac as more and more people joined the manhunt. The boys picked up speed, dodging around people and obstacles in their way. They had just passed the edge of town with a mob on their tails when an enormous roar shook the air.
Stubby, in his full monstrous form, came charging out of the night. The townspeople, recognizing the threat, reversed course in a hurry. Joe took this opportunity to reform the metal magic carpet. They all hopped on, including Stubby, who was shrinking as he joined them, and took off into the night. Naturally, Andrew immediately started praising his fuzzy friend.
“That went well,” said Ray. “Do you have any clue how to find these bandits, or do you expect us to just wander the woods hoping to get lucky?”
“I’d say we get some distance from that settlement, find another, and then start asking questions. That’s what we would do in-game, anyway,” suggested Joe. Balzac stared at him in surprise.
“That’s exactly what we should do! How did you come up with that?”
“We’ve been chased out of plenty of towns in our RPG sessions. Typically, we just find another one and do what I just said. It makes sense,” replied Joe.
“So, is that what you usually do in your games? Let people take advantage of you, then run you out of town?”
“Nah. Depends on what alignment we’re playing. Evil characters usually destroy large portions of the town. Good or neutral ones generally have some sort of misunderstanding. Either way, that’s how our adventures usually start.”
“Has it occurred to you that this is just like living out your game?” asked the squirrel.
“Yeah, it’s pretty messed up,” Joe agreed. “I’d have never picked a talking squirrel for a dungeon master. Especially one that obviously doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.” Balzac sputtered in outrage at the comment.