by Erik Rounds
She poured herself a small shot glass and downed it in one gulp. The liquid was like fire that burned a path through her throat and into her belly, causing her to shudder involuntarily. Tasha was a bit of a lightweight on Earth, and that seemed to have carried through into her stat-augmented body.
She poured another cup of death whisky and offered it to Ari.
Pan sat up from the bed, pointed her hand at Tasha, and called out “Steal!” The drink flew from Tasha’s hand and into her own, the liquid never spilling out. As soon as the girl had it, she put the glass to her lips and swallowed it. For a moment the girl’s face showed no reaction. That moment passed, and then her eyes grew large as she collapsed backward onto her couch, clearly in distress.
“You could have just asked,” Tasha said, grinning.
“She’s too young to drink,” Ari said, rebuking her.
Pan sat back up and crossed her arms. Apparently it was okay for her to fight monsters, handle machine guns, oppose evil queens, hobnob with pirates, eidolons, players, and kings, not to mention defy the great destroyer god Entropy himself, but alcohol was where the adults drew the line because alcohol was dangerous.
Tasha poured another glass for Ari, and this time he took it from her successfully. They spent the next hour drinking and making small talk. At some point Pan fell back into her chair and passed out completely. Ari carried her to the cot.
♦ ♦ ♦
Tasha remembered having several more drinks with Ari, but that was ultimately the extent of her memory from the evening.
She awoke the next morning, and to her great distress, a mariachi band was performing in her head while being pursued by a herd of rampaging elephants. At least that’s what her hangover felt like. Tasha realized that she was lying facedown on something prickly. This wasn’t her bed. She thought she heard some strange animal noises but couldn’t make them out over the sound of the mariachi band.
Gathering all of her courage and determination, she bravely tried to roll onto her back. Halfway through the motion, she fell several feet, landing on a hard wooden floor. Pain swept through the back of her head from the impact, momentarily distracting her from the hangover.
Opening one eye, she could see a big brown spot that gradually resolved into the ceiling of a train car. Why was the train spinning? It felt as though it were moving around her in circles. Shouldn’t it be moving forward in a single direction?
Her vision was still blurry, but she could start to make out vague shapes and details. She wasn’t quite emotionally prepared to make as bold an adventure as sitting up, but some overly curious part of her mind was wondering where she was.
After several minutes of lying supine, a figure made its way into her field of view. It was an animal, a cow to be precise. It featured a long white nose with a black patch over one eye. She looked at Tasha curiously and let out a dismissive “moo” before moving out of her field of view.
Tasha wondered just what she had been up to last night? Gathering all of her grit and determination, she raised her body to a sitting position and looked around. She was rewarded by an additional wave of pain that superimposed itself over the existing headache. She needed to do something about this hangover, post haste.
Maybe she could ask Slimon to cast a recovery spell on her. Unfortunately, that would involve standing up and walking around, which was far beyond her meager capabilities. Screw it, she was going to use one of her status recovery potions. They weren’t cheap, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
First, she had to open her menu. She swiped vaguely upward with one finger, and the menu interface opened. So far so good. Carefully she tapped on “items.” Success again! She was on a roll. Nothing could stop her now. The inventory screen opened up before her. The item labeled “cure potion” was close to the top of the inventory list, accompanied by a pixelated image of a flask.
She jabbed at it with her finger, but in her partially drunken state accidentally tapped the item next to it, and a glob of grogre mucus appeared in her hand instead.
Dammit, why did she even have one of these in her inventory? As a gamer, her instinct was to pick up everything that she might conceivably be able to use or sell, but it was hard to imagine anyone paying for this. The item description said it was used in crafting, but she couldn’t see how. Little bits of grogre mucus dripped from the glob in her hand and onto the wooden floorboards.
She quickly put it back in her inventory and successfully retrieved the cure potion. Popping the cork off the vial of purple liquid, she quaffed it in a single gulp. It tasted like cough syrup, but as it went down her headache receded, and she was overcome with a feeling of relief. The mariachi band had gone on strike, and the herd of elephants had moved on to greener pastures.
Now that her senses had returned to her, she took in her surroundings properly. This must be one of the livestock cars. She could feel movement beneath her so it was clear that the train was still in motion. Several cows and sheep surrounded her. She’d been sleeping on a small rectangular bale of hay.
She then realized that she wasn’t wearing her own clothing. Instead, Tasha was wearing a stewardess’s outfit that fit just a bit too snugly. She tried desperately to put the pieces together but couldn’t remember what would have possessed her to dress like this and sleep among the cows and sheep rather than in her expensive first-class suite.
She opened her menu in order to equip some more reasonable clothing, but before she could open the inventory screen, she saw the GP indicator in the corner which indicated that she was at 0 GP. Why was she broke? Did she lose all of her money during her blackout?
As she was trying to figure out what had happened, someone came in. An elderly gnome man entered the car and took one look at her. “Hey, were you sleeping? Get back to work, Pollyanna, or I’ll report you for sleeping on the job.”
“What did you call me?”
He pointed at her chest, saying, “Poll-y-anna. It’s your name. It’s written right there on your name tag. Did you forget your own name? Or maybe you prefer Paula? I don’t actually care, just get the hell out of my cattle car. I’ve got work to do. These animals aren’t going to feed themselves.”
“Okay, I’m going.” She got to her feet, brushed some rogue pieces of straw off of her uniform, and made her way to the exit. Who was Pollyanna, and why was she wearing that woman’s uniform?
Taking the other exit, she moved through several baggage cars and made her way to the passenger section. Rows of seated passengers lined either side of the car. More than half of the passengers were human, although there were quite a few dwarves and slimes.
Not sure what else to do, she decided to make her way to the first-class lounge, which was at the front of the train. She proceeded from one car to the next.
After reaching the third passenger car, a middle-aged human passenger with a shaggy beard turned to her. “Hey, miss. Can you bring me another bottle of Dwarven Death Whisky?”
Tasha backed away, saying, “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”
As she opened the door to the next car, Tasha met the eyes of another stewardess. She was tall and blonde, and her name tag said “Susan.” She took one look at Tasha and said, “Good morning, Pollyanna.”
Tasha wondered how it was that the woman didn’t recognize that she wasn’t her colleague. Since the stewardess outfit Tasha was wearing was too small for her, she doubted that she looked like this Pollyanna person. Choosing not to question her good luck, she let the stewardess past and left the car.
It occurred to her that she probably shouldn’t continue wearing Pollyanna’s uniform. She was desperately curious as to how she’d come by it, but she would have to explore that in greater detail at a later time. Moving into the space between the train cars where nobody could see her, she opened her menu and equipped one of the fancy brown dresses that she’d purchased in Slimewater.
She was able to traverse the next dozen or so passenger cars without incident. Finally she made
it to the observation cars situated at the midsection of the train. Large windows framed the walls on either side, showing grassy wilderness as it rushed by. Halfway through the first observation car, she spotted a familiar face. Pan was sipping a milkshake at the bar.
“Pan, you’ve gotta help me!” Tasha said, pulling up a chair.
“Hi. What’s wrong?”
Tasha proceeded to explain the events of the preceding night and how she woke up in the cattle car, hungover and wearing a stewardess outfit as well as how all of her GP had vanished. She also mentioned her encounter with the other stewardess, who somehow thought that she was her colleague.
After listening to the story patiently, Pan said, “Your left hand. I think it’s a c-clue.”
Peering at her left hand, Tasha noticed something that hadn’t been there before. Sitting snugly on her finger was a golden ring engraved with a red jewel. It wasn’t a particularly elaborate ring, but there was a beauty about its simplicity.
Tasha got to her feet, knocking over the barstool. “Wait, are you saying that I got engaged last night?”
“No, you didn’t get engaged,” said Pan.
Tasha puffed out a breath. “That’s a relief.”
“You got m-married.”
Tasha scanned the ring, and the description read “Wedding Ring.”
Tasha’s screams of horror drew the attention of everyone in the observation car.
“It’s okay,” said Pan. “Maybe you will be happy married.”
Tasha took a drink of some kind of booze that someone left on the counter and collected herself. “But… who did I get married to? I don’t remember meeting anyone last night. I was drinking with you and Ari, and then nothing.”
Pan got to her feet, leaving the empty milkshake glass on the counter. “M-maybe Dad knows.”
“Good idea. Let’s find him and ask. Couldn’t you just… I dunno, summon him?”
Pan shook her head. “Everyone would see.”
Tasha sighed. “Okay, let’s get back to our room.”
They were about to leave the observation car when a stewardess carrying a broadsword entered the car. “Your attention, please.”
Everyone in the car turned to look at her. “I have some bad news. There have been several murders on board this train. We’ve found the bodies of multiple staff members. For the time being, we’re asking that all travelers return to their assigned seats for the remainder of the trip.”
“That’s terrible,” said a human man in his late twenties. “I know some of the staff. Who was it?”
“So far we’ve found five bodies, including Brenda, Susan, Alice, Pollyanna, and Millie. We found their bodies hidden in the luggage compartment, and their clothing had been removed.”
Tasha’s name tag had said “Pollyanna,” and the stewardess that she’d just passed had a name tag that said “Susan.” She was about to mention this, but Pan spoke first.
“Tasha, did you k-kill them?”
“No, of course not! At least, I don’t think I did. That doesn’t seem like the kind of thing I would do. Why would I? I’m a nice person, I don’t go around murdering stewardesses. Stewardi? What’s the plural of stewardess?”
“Stewardesses?” Pan said.
“Let’s get back to our lounge and find Ari. Hopefully he’ll have some answers for us.”
Looking at her ring, Tasha said, “I’m more concerned about this. Pan, I’m just not ready to get married.”
“Excuse me,” Pan said to the broadsword-wielding stewardess, “was there a w-wedding last night?”
The stewardess smiled. “I did hear about something like that. Last night a dark-skinned human girl married a pervy samurai named Henimaru the Toad. We’d been getting complaints that he’d been asking every female human that he could find to marry him. I guess someone finally agreed. I can’t see what that poor girl sees in him.”
“Henimaru?” said Pan, her eyes wide.
“The Toad?” Tasha finished, her mouth open.
“Yeah,” said the stewardess. “He’s a toad-person. You’ll find him a few cars down.”
The two looked at each other, Tasha’s own horror and concern reflected in Pan’s eyes.
With trepidation in her heart, Tasha put one foot after another, walking past the stewardess toward the next car. They proceeded through several more cars before they found any passengers who would qualify as toadlike.
Finally, they found him in the third car. His skin was a yellowish-green tint dotted with red and black patches of discoloration. He had a large mouth and jaw. Perfectly black eyes framed his face on either side. His attire consisted of a plate helm that curved upward along either side, individual sleeve shields, and layers of plate body armor that covered a thick leather vest.
It appeared that Henimaru was eating breakfast. He opened the lid of a small bowl, and a fly darted out. Before it could escape, Henimaru’s tongue shot out from his mouth, capturing the fly and drawing it back into his waiting maw.
Pan and Tasha exchanged looks for a moment. Shrugging, the girl walked over to the toad-samurai-person, pulling Tasha along by the hand.
“Hi,” Pan said. “Are you Henimaru?”
It was then that Henimaru noticed Tasha and verified her fears. He let loose a loud croaking sound which emanated from his throat and gurbled aloud until finally sputtering out.
“Aha, there thou art,” he said, wiping a bit of fly off of his mouth. “Tasha, my own sweet wife! I had wondered as to where thou wast since the ceremony. Yesterday was truly the most joyful day of my life. T’was as though Lord Storyboard Designer himself tooketh note of my desperate need and sent unto one me one of his angels.”
“Pan,” Tasha said as she took a single step backward, “I think I might be in need of some more of that Death Whisky.”
Pan just smiled. “I’m P-Pan, and I’m so very h-happy for my friend Tasha. It’s about time she found a n-nice husband. C-c-can you tell me how this happened?”
“Verily, friend Pan,” Henimaru said, croaking loudly. “Sorry, yes. Tasha, why don’t you tell thy friend about it.”
“That’s okay,” Tasha said. “I’m sure you could tell it much better than me.”
“Art thou sure?” he asked.
“Oh yeah. I’m sure.”
“Well, this is what happened. It all began several weeks ago. I was taking my tadpoles out for some level grinding when suddenly we were accosted by a band of Zhakaran slavers. I’m ashamed to say that they attacked whilst my back was turned. I was collecting food for them, but by the time I had returned, the Zhakaran swine had already taken my young.”
“That’s terrible!” Tasha said.
“Verily, that’s what you said yesterday when I told you, only you used more artful language, and your words did all slureth together. As I was saying, I tracked them down and discovered that they were to be sold at a slave auction in Zhakara. I doth headeth there now hoping to attempt a rescue, but in Zhakara my kind are considered no more than slaves. Indeed, it is likely that I would be captured and enslaved myself before I could even get close to my goal.”
“But you are going anyway?” Tasha asked.
“I must!” Henimaru responded in his typical butchering of Shakespearian speech. “ Still, I have little hope of setting them free traveling as I am. Then it did occurreth to me that if I were married to a human woman, that might give me the cover I need to maketh mine approach. I’ve heard that non-humans who art married to humans are considered the property of their spouses, so most people would just leaveth them alone rather than risk angering their spouse.”
Tasha nodded in understanding. “So that’s why you’ve been asking all the human women on this train to marry you.”
“Thou understandeth!” he cried with another loud croak. “Oh dear, I seem to have a frog in my throat. As I was saying, thou understandeth perfectly. When I explaineth the situation yesterday, thou offered to marry me in order to aid me in mine attempts to extract my offspring from the
vile clutches of the Zhakarans.”
A weak smile grew upon Tasha’s face. “Now that I understand your situation, I guess I have no problem with this. But since this is just a marriage of convenience, you don’t care if I see other people, right?”
“Of course I don’t mind. This marriage is only temporary so I can get my children back. Like we agreed yesterday, I shalt file for divorce as soon as I returneth to the Slime Federation,” Henimaru said.
“Okay, and just because we’re married, you don’t expect us to have… relations, do you?”
“Whatever dost thou meaneth by ‘relations’?
“Sex,” Pan added helpfully. “She means sex.”
Henimaru turned to Tasha. “Dear lady, I do not believe that thou art capable of having sex with me. Toad-people mate using a process called amplexus. Unless thou art able to lay a large number of eggs on demand, I would not expect relations between us to be possible. Laying eggs isn’t something humans can do, is it? Sorry, I fear that I’m not well versed in human reproductive anatomy.”
“Um… no,” Tasha said, somewhat relieved, “not as such. I guess that explains the ring.”
Pan patted Tasha on the back. “Anything else?”
Tasha paused for a moment in thought. “All of my GP is gone from my inventory. I’d been trying to save up, but it’s all gone now. Also, I would like to know why I had Pollyanna’s uniform and why I was sleeping in the cattle car with the animals.”
Henimaru slurped up another fly and said, “I can help thee with that. Allow me to accompany thee and help retraceth thy steps.”
“Thanks, Henimaru,” Tasha said.
“My pleasure, wife,” he said as he flagged down a stewardess and indicated his bowl of flies. “Miss, can I get this to go?”
After collecting the remainder of his breakfast, Henimaru the Toad led Tasha and Pan toward the front of the car. Finally, they reached the chapel. It was a small compartment where people of various denominations could come and pray. A dark-elf priestess sat at a nearby bench. She was reading some variety of holy book.
“Fair morning, Lorcana,” Henimaru said.