theadventuresofgarlandodra

[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- Hush Little Baby

Prev.

Lydia held her breath as Rillana walked into the room. The queen was as straight faced as she usually was, there was no telling what was going through her mind. That was an admirable quality in a leader, but right now it made Lydia want to strangle her.

“Well!?”

Rillana paused for a moment longer before a smile spread across her face and she nodded. “It took,” she said.

For a second, the world stopped. Lydia had memories flash before her eyes- meeting the Queen for the first time as she was summoned into the royal’s court. Their several years of courting. How the queen would disguise herself so they could enjoy each other’s company in public without a flock of bodyguards. The day Rillana presented Lydia with a poem that took nearly ten minutes to read before presenting Lydia with a tiara made of black pearls and diamonds- the official proclamation of a queen’s love. Their wedding, which was a celebration nearly a month long. How every day was filled with a lifetime of love.

And now, they’d have something just for them.

The world finally moved again and Lydia squealed before pulling Rillana in a tight embrace. Rillana laughed quietly as she wrapped her arms around Lydia, resting her face on Lydia’s shoulder. They said nothing, only sobbing and laughing as they enjoyed this joy.

Lydia rested her hand on her wife’s mostly flat belly. There was a slight difference, but not enough to be noticeable unless you were touching. “So, is it the gargoyle’s?” she asked.

Rillana nodded, wiping her eye. “Oh goddess, I’m such a mess right now. Yes, it is Garl’s. I’ve already sent for the most experienced healers to help me. It’ll likely have to be a cutting birth- I can’t imagine birthing a literal stone that’s bigger than my head.”

Lydia shuddered. “Oh no, definitely not. Come, lie down, you need to rest,” she said as she gently pushed her wife towards the bed.

“This is not the first time I’ve been pregnant, my most beloved,” Rillana protested, but she didn’t resist lying down. “But I am a bit tired, I’ll admit. Another sign I’m expecting again, although this is the first time I’m carrying a child for us.”

It was truly the perfect situation, Lydia thought as she lied down next to her wife. Garl was a lover and leave-her type, odds are he’d never return to this part of the Underdark now that his task was complete. Without any tie to one of Rillana’s husbands, the child would be raised by Lydia instead of one of them. Not that Lydia didn’t love Rillana’s other children, Rillana was a loving mother and her elder children strove to reach her level of greatness. But they each had a father, a father who adored them. Lydia was more of an aunt. But this child… this one would get to be raised by Lydia and Rillana.

Not to mention this got Rillana’s shoe in the door with the nearby gargoyle nest. As a whole, gargoyles kept to themselves, rarely interacting with the world. Garl was an aberration in that way, which Rillana immediately noticed and decided she was going to use. With a gargoyle a part of the royal family, the nearby nest would feel a need to open up conversation with Rillana. No possible way was the child not going to learn of their own culture, of their ancient traditions and The God of Stone.

Not saying that Rillana wouldn’t love them like the rest of her children, but in a royal family, it was chess. Every pawn you had on the board, which not only included both Rillana and Lydia but their family was well, had a purpose to serve. And in this case, a gargoyle child was a very unique and useful pawn.

The door creaked open and Rillana’s husband Molvayas peeked his head in the door. “Permission to enter? I heard rumors of good news,” he said.

Rillana sat up and gestured the shy drow lord in. “Enter, Molvayas. Yes, this news is wonderful- I have become pregnant after my visitation with the visiting gargoyle adventurer,” she said.

“Oh!” Molvayas blinked a few times before he smiled. “That’s wonderful! I hope that you’ll have a daughter that is as regal as you!”

Rillana chuckled and looked down at Lydia. “What do you think? Girl or boy?” she asked.

“I have a feeling it’ll be a boy. I can’t explain it, but I feel this will be a boy,” Lydia said as she sat up. “You don’t have to be so coy about it, Molvayas- your daughter is still the heiress to the North Queen’s throne.”

“I would never think so pettily about such wonderful news,” Molvayas mock gasped before he grinned. “Nevertheless, congratulations to you both. Lydia will take care of the child?”

Lydia nodded, her chest fluttering with pride. Rillana, however, cocked her head to the side. “Come on now, I know you’re not just congratulating me on being with child, I just had my last one barely forty years ago. What is it, Molvayas?” she asked.

“You’re too good at reading me,” Molvayas sighed before he pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s… Keverin.”

Oh goddess. Lydia groaned preemptively and Rillana didn’t even bother to call her out. “What did our son do now?” Rillana asked with her jaw clenched.

Molvayas didn’t say anything, only approaching the royal bed and handing Rillana a folded piece of paper before going to his knees. Rillana opened it and her eyes scanned the written words before she swore and lit the paper on fire with her fingertips.

“What’s wrong, Rillana?” Lydia asked. “Did he get into another fight?”

“Worse.” Rillana squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her fingers to her temples. “Apparently, the visit from Odra and her companions has inspired him. He’s going up above the ground… to become a bloody adventurer.”

Lydia’s jaw dropped. “No! He did not! He’s barely ninety-eight, he’s not old enough!” she said.

“I’m well aware of how old he is, but apparently he’s under the impression he’s able to do it.” Rillana took a deep breath before reopening her eyes. “I’m too tired for this. Molvayas, please tell me he’s not left the Underdark.”

“He has, unfortunately. I’m already preparing a retinue of guards to coax him back home… but my queen, I believe this could be for his benefit. If I may speak freely?” Molvayas glanced up for a moment before returning his gaze solidly to the floor.

Rillana twisted her mouth but she nodded curtly.

“Thank you, my queen. I know we both adore Keverin. But he’s strong willed, independent, and more stubborn than the longest day of the year. Being down here has been boring him for years. It’s why he gets in so much trouble,” Molvayas started counting off on his fingers. “The gambling ring, the card playing, the cheating at the cards, the fights he gets into, it’s all because he feels like he has nothing to do. Perhaps a taste of the world outside the safety of the palace will give him some sense, and once he comes home, he’ll have calmed down and will grow for the better.”

Rillana paused to consider this, tapping her fingers on her thigh as she mulled it over in her mind.

“… As long as his guards catch up to him and he doesn’t leave them behind, then I will allow this. Did he bring his goggles? I don’t want his eyes getting sunburnt.”

“He brought the goggles, yes.”

“And he packed well? Plenty of clothing? He grabbed his daggers?”

“Rillana, he’s ninety-eight, not thirty-eight.”

Rillana lightly smacked Molvayas on the head. “What did you call me?” she threatened.

“Sorry, my queen.” Judging by his grin, Molvayas was not sorry in the least.

Rillana shook her finger at him. “You know the rules. Queen first, Rillana only when I say you can call me Rillana. I’m sorry, he’s just… he’s so young still, and I recognize some of my twin sister’s spirit in him. He’s trouble.”

“He’ll come back a better man for it, I promise it,” Molvayas rubbed the top of his head where he’d been smacked. “And I’m sorry, I’ll be punished properly later… can I have K’yorl do it? You need to rest, being with child and all.”

“You think you can make demands now, after breaking the rules?” Rillana smirked. “But sure, K’yorl may punish you… after Nimbasir does.”

Molvayas’ grin dropped. “My queen, last time he handled the punishment, I couldn’t sit down for a week!” he complained.

“And you loved it. Now shoo. I want to rest.”

Molvayas skittered out of the room after bowing his face to the ground, and Lydia shook her head once the door slammed behind him.

“I can’t believe they willingly sign up for this game.”

Rillana laughed as she laid back down. “Lydia, the reason they married me was for the game. The minute they want it to stop, all they have to do is say so,” she said.

That was true. Lydia remembered the time Gardek had called off the game, the Duergar looked fearful for speaking out of turn. But Rillana immediately undid his bondage, told everyone to leave the room, and the next time Lydia saw him he was wrapped in a warm quilt and Rillana was stroking his beard and kissing the top of his head in a truly gentle way.

She might have only been in love with Lydia, but Rillana loved her husbands too.

End of Volume 2

Volume Three- Coming Soon <3

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[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- Celebration

Prev.

After a good adventure comes a good celebration.

And when your house is also a tavern, that means getting drunk. Very drunk.

Odra finished chugging down another beer that was incredibly close to her own size before slamming the glass on the bar. “Amother!” she slurred, the froth of the previous beer still coating her mouth. The guild master sighed but he took her glass and refilled it. By the time he was back, there was more than enough gold to cover this beer…. and probably the next few. Which was great, because Garl was drinking like a horse. And he wasn’t paying for all his own whiskey.

But fuck it, the guild master was just a human. He wasn’t going to ask a five hundred pound gargoyle that was trying to get black out wasted to cover his tab. Not until he was sober, anyway.

Odra sipped at her beer before lowering it, a pensive look on her face.

“You know what’s… what’s good in this world?”

Garl lowered his glass. “Mmhmm?” he asked, looking a bit tipsy himself.

“Girls!”

Odra grabbed the guild master by the sleeve so he was to be subject to this rant too. “You know?! Girls are… girls! They’re so, so good! Not me, I’m… I’m fuckin’ badass, but there’s a lot of other cute girls! Girls… girls are always cute though!” she gestured to the entire bar. “Look at all these girls, guild master! Humans girls! Goliath girls! Drow girls! Elf girls! All of these girls!? They’re AMAZING!”

Sylvia made the mistake of passing by and Odra released the guild master so she could grab Sylvia’s arm. “Dhampir… dhampir girls are good too,” she said, trying to touch Sylvia’s face.

Sylvia was not drunk enough for any of this, and she jerked away from the drunk goblin. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re not my type, don’t get the wrong idea, you’re just a really good friend!” Odra patted Sylvia on the arm. “But you’re a cute girl! And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise! If… if any guy breaks your heart, you tell ‘em… you tell ‘em you’re too cute. You’re too cute for ‘em anyway.”

Sylvia shook Odra off as a faint blush appeared in her cheeks. “Um. Thanks. Bar guy, gimme what she’s having, I’m going to need it. Dullahan’s adding shots to his fucking bug smoothies and I can’t deal with that sober,” she said.

The guild master grunted before passing her a beer. Sylvia gave him a thumbs up and skittered away from the giggling Odra.

“You know who the cutest girl is though, Garl?” She tilted her head back to look at the gargoyle and nearly toppled off the barstool. Garl caught her so she basically plopped her head into his lap.

“Is it Calipha?” he guessed as he patted her head.

“Uh huh!”

Odra grinned stupidly.

“She’s… she’s so cute, Garl. She’s fucking ripped too. Like you wouldn’t…. you wouldn’t guess when she’s all in her choring dress, but she’s got biceps. I bet she’d give great hugs with those arms. And she smiles and it’s so nice… it’s just so nice, Garl. I wanna see her again.”

Garl mmhmm’d before glancing up at the guild master and mouthed, ‘no more for her’. The guild master nodded and replaced her beer with a root drink synthesized by that artificer hobgoblin.

Speaking of which, the guild master spotted him and the other hob he’d been bickering with ever since he signed up for the guild, but instead of arguing like they usually were… was that singing?

“I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE WHEN YOU WALKED IIIIIN, SO SHAME ON ME NOW-OW…”

The guild master hadn’t guessed Turgut for much of a drinker, and it did seem he’d be the sober one… until Odra challenged him to a drinking contest. Apparently throwing down the gauntlet was enough to get Turgut to start guzzling brandy like the demons were going to raise nine hells the next day. Kendrenal didn’t need any incentive though, he was already buying drinks for half the bar.

Now the two hobgoblins were swaying, barely able to stay up on their feet. They would’ve probably already fallen but they were managing to prop each other up. They were holding up mostly empty bottles as they continued to belt out love songs and break up songs. Wick had lifted up his thumb and had a fire above it, goading the pair on.

Speaking of which…

“HI! WICK!”

The genasi yelped as Sahsi toppled into his lap. “D-darling! What… what?” he blinked a few times out of sync before he realized he had his arms full of hexblood.

“I think I’m a lil…” Sahsi giggled as she crawled into Wick’s lap and took a seat. “Whooo! I’m a lil drunk!”

“I’m…” Wick swallowed, the bard struggling to find the right words as Sahsi stole his glass and downed the rest of his drink while snuggled up to him. “I think, my dear, we’re both a little drunk.”

“Mmmm. Your drink t… tastes better than mine,” Sahsi giggled. “I wish I was like… like most halflings. They can drink all night! Meeee, thouughhh… nah. I can’t do that. Can’t! But it’s fun bein’ drunk, and you don’t need to use as many silvers when you can’t hold your liquor!”

“I can see.” Wick cleared his throat before reaching up to stroke Sahsi’s hair. “Your hair is very soft.”

Sahsi pouted for a moment. “Tynos’ hair is nicer. TYNOS!”

Wick winced at Sahsi’s volume spike. The hexblood, completely ignorant of this, gestured over to the satyr, who was dozing off in the corner. “Tynos! Come heeere!” she called.

The satyr hummed as he got to his feet. He almost tripped a few times but he managed to work his way over. “Yeah, Sah?” he murmured, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and managing to look somehow adorable while he did so.

“Wick! Feel!”

Sahsi snatched Wick’s hand and plopped it on Tynos’ head. “It’s like petting a baby sheep!” she squealed.

“Hmmm…” Wick slowly petted Tynos’ hair while the satyr remained perfectly still. “His ears are soft too.”

“They’re tickliiish…” Tynos leaned away and hiccuped. “I think I had too much of the green fairy, Wicks.”

“Wicks, that’s what you’re calling me now?” Wick chuckled. “And who gave you absinthe, darling Tynos?”

Tynos pointed across the bar. “Thundeeerrr!”

Thunderwarrior was currently cuddling a very shocked and far too sober for this shit kobold, petting her head, cooing and calling her a bunch of pet names. Elphira just sat next to the pair while smiling sympathetically (or perhaps a little jealously) at the kobold.

“Ah. She would. Tynos, you should go to bed.”

“You should-” Tynos pointed at Wick now, almost smacking the genasi in the head. “You should go to bed! Take me with you!”

“If you’d requested that at any other time, we would already be up the steps. However, I also have a lovely damsel in my lap,” Wick gestured to the snuggling Sahsi, “and I can’t be bothered to move her.”

Sahsi looked up. “O-oh, I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Wick sighed as she continued to play with Sahsi’s hair. “You’re fine, sweet thing. How could you not be? Tynos, take a seat. I’ll take you to your room when Sahsi’s ready to move,” he offered.

Tynos grabbed a chair and toppled into it. His head lolled forward as his eyelids grew heavy again. “Mmhmmm… gods, you’re both so gorgeous. Shepa help me. I don’t know if I’m jealous or horny,” he blabbered on.

Wick chuckled. Well, no doubt these two would be embarrassed in the morning. But in the meantime… Wick carefully took his glass back from Sahsi, who was just cuddling it at this point, and set it back on the table.

“Can someone get me a refill? Or perhaps I’ll have a bit of that green fairy myself?”

Back up at the bar, Crowley slipped out of the bathroom and got over to Odra and Garl, where Odra was now loudly snoring on Garl’s lap. “She finally passed out?” Crowley asked as he took the seat she had vacated.

“She outdrank two hobgoblins. I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did,” Garl said as he patted her head. “Where did they go anyway?”

“Probably upstairs to sleep it off. Guild master, if I could have one of those root drinks,” Crowley gestured him over.

“You’re not drinking tonight?” Garl asked.

“No, I’m already completely wasted,” Crowley replied in all seriousness. “That’s why I’m not drinking anymore.”

Garl nodded before he downed another finger of gin. “Good at hiding it,” he said.

“Oh, I’m horrible at it. You should know things,” Crowley shook his finger at Garl. “Many things. There’s so many paths one can take, you know. And you’re just very lucky you didn’t take one.”

Garl cocked a brow. “… I don’t follow,” he said.

“You should,” Crowley looked down at Odra, who twitched a few times before going still. “In another life, I’d be taking care of your little drunk comrade. You wouldn’t be here.”

“Is that so?” Garl deadpanned.

“More than that. Here’s advice, my gargoyle friend,” Crowley leaned in uncomfortably close, and now Garl could smell the vodka on his breath.

“Neeever. Trust a devil. They’re going to use you. At least when I use you, I’ll make sure you know.”

“… If this is your shitty attempt at flirting, get fucking lost, because you’ve successfully creeped me out. And I don’t do men.”

Crowley snorted before straightening back up. “I think I’d never take a normal shit again if you did do men,” he said, softly laughing before he got off the bar, taking his drink with him. “Whoooo… too drunk for this. I’m going to bed. Remember what I say, Garl.”

Garl watched Crowley saunter away before slowly turning back towards the guild master. “Just so I know, I didn’t just imagine all of that?”

“… You did not.”

“Good. I need another bottle.”

“On the house.”

“Thanks.”

~*~

The morning after a night of drinking was always the most hilarious. Except for those hungover.

Like Sahsi, whose head was pounding so badly she wished she could go back to blissful unconsciousness. She scrunched her eyes and groaned quietly. What herbs were good for hangover cures? If she could remember, she’d be getting out of bed… even if it was nice and comfy and smelled like… cinnamon…

Wait. Why did her bed smell like cinnamon?

Sahsi’s eyes popped open, another action she immediately regretted as she’d clearly forgotten to close her curtains last night and the sun was happily shining into her room. Her eyelids slammed back shut, but she’d not missed the bright flash of red that was snoozing next to her.

Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no no no…

Taking a gulp of air, Sahsi forced herself to reopen her eyes.

Yup. There was a fire genasi in her bed. A fire genasi who she’d only really gotten introduced to after he threatened to kill her. Wick was sleeping peacefully, his head resting on her pillow and his arm wrapped around Sahsi like a teddy bear. Explained why she was smelling cinnamon, at least- he always sprayed himself with perfumes to hide the vague brimstone smell that followed him around.

Thank the gods she was still dressed. Mostly. A quick feel did reveal she took her corset off, but sleeping in that hurt like nothing else, and it was mechanical to remove it before she slept anyway. Wick had taken his shirt off, and Sahsi could make out a few scars creeping over his shoulders from his back. He was… quite fit for a musician. Not bulky like Thunderwarrior, but he was lean and stop looking at him-

Right. Well. She could stare at her shirtless frenemy later. She needed to get up and function. Sahsi tried to roll away from Wick, only to bump into something else.

No. Not something else. Someone else.

Oh every god in the heavens and hells, you’re kidding me.

Sahsi took a deep breath before she turned around.

Yup. Tynos. Tynos was completely naked, even his golden fake hoof had been thrown across the room. He was curled into a little ball so at least she couldn’t see, well, anything of an inappropriate nature. She’d heard rumors of satyrs.

Great. She was trapped in her own bed. By two guys. Her mother would be genuinely proud of her.

Well, there was no avoiding the awkward. She had to wake at least one of them up. And judging by how drunk Tynos had been last night, she had better go for Wick instead.

“Wick?” Sahsi whispered, softly poking him in the ribs.

Wick immediately woke, snorting and blinking a few times. His eyes were black for a few moments, only to light up like little fires as he realized Sahsi was right there.

“… Um. Well. Good morning.”

Sahsi laughed nervously, knowing she was blushing. “I really need to get out of bed, I have to… use the bathroom.” That wasn’t a lie, but it was still embarrassing.

“Ah. I’ll release you then. I apologize, I’m a bit clingy when I’m asleep.” Wick pulled his arm away from her and Sahsi managed to escape out the foot out of the bed. She nearly face planted onto the cold floorboards but caught herself last second.

“You’re fine, I… why are you in my bed though?” Sahsi wracked her brain.

“A very stupid drunk mistake- we didn’t do anything,” Wick quickly clarified as he sat up. “You and Tynos were both hanging off of me, and Tynos wanted to snuggle you, and you wanted to snuggle me, and although I intended to head back to my own bedroom I guess I just… fell back asleep. Ugh, I’m never drinking absinthe again.”

“Is that what you were pounding back last night?” Sahsi shook her head. “Never mind, I figured we hadn’t, um… I’d… I just need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” Sahsi hop-skipped out of the room, swearing in her halfling tongue about how cold the floor was.

When she returned, Tynos was awake, with one of Sahsi’s bed sheets wrapped around his waist as he threw up into the chamber pot that had so far gone unused. Wick was holding back his hair and patted his back as the satyr coughed and sputtered.

“I’m never drinking again,” Tynos moaned as he laid down face first on the floor. “Never. Ugh. Where are my robes? I need my clothes. I’m naked. I’m sorry. I think I got up last night and just. Stripped it off because I was too hot. I didn’t realize I was in the wrong room.”

“It’s not like it’s my first time seeing male buttocks, Tynos, you’re fine,” Wick reassured him.

Sahsi cleared her throat and Tynos craned his neck back. The satyr went bright red before turning away. “Please tell me you don’t hate me,” he groaned.

“I don’t hate you. I didn’t… really see anything. You’re very furry, and you curl into a ball when you sleep,” Sahsi said. She winced and rubbed her temples as her head continued to throb. “I hate the sun. I want it to die.”

Wick laughed quietly before he grimaced as well. “Let’s all get decent and see if the guild master will give us something to eat. I vote for greasy bacon and eggs.”

“I second that, along with some tea,” Sahsi whimpered as she squeezed her eyes shut. “I have a blend that’s a good hangover cure. Somewhere”

Tynos inched across the floor towards a pile of clothes that were likely his. “Sahsi, I love you so much right now,” he said.

Sahsi’s face went red as Tynos remained completely oblivious to how that could be taken. Wick shook his head before glancing up at Sahsi. “Can you find my shirt? And my glasses? You can borrow the glasses, Sahsi, I can cope with the pain.”

Sahsi laughed quietly. “I think I’m gonna make a love declaration next, Wick.”

After the trio slowly dressed in the bare minimum to be considered modest, Sahsi poked her head into the hallway. She definitely heard someone vomiting in another room, but other than that, it was a very quiet morning in the guild. Understandable, considering the party last night. “Looks like we’re all good. Come on-”

Sahsi was cut off by a loud screech from down the hall.

“I know that sound,” Wick said as he poked his head out the door alongside Sahsi’s. “That’s the sound of a regrettable one night stand. Take your bets now, my darlings, who hooked up with who?”

Tynos looked out in the hallway just in time to see one of the doors slam open… and Kendrenal tossed out, butt naked, from Turgut’s room as he shouted and threw Kendrenal’s clothing on top of the nude hobgoblin.

“OUT! GET OUT! YOU ARE A DISGRACE! BE GRATEFUL I DON’T THROW YOU OUT OF THE UNIT! YOU ARE NEVER TO MENTION THIS AGAIN, YOU HEAR ME!? TO COME ONTO A HIGHER RANKED OFFICER- YOU’LL BE GIVING ME A HUNDRED LAPS AROUND THE GUILD, FOLLOWED BY A HUNDRED PUSH UPS! YOU’LL BE ON LAUNDRY DUTY UNTIL YOUR GRANDCHILDREN ARE OLD ENOUGH TO ENLIST! JUST! GET! OUT!”

The door slammed, leaving Kendrenal sitting on the hallway floor. The hobgoblin blinked a few times before he managed to dress to decency and got to his feet. He stumbled down the hallway and paused by the stunned trio.

“You know… for the complete, bumbling fool he is… I’ve done worse. I’ve absolutely done worse.”

With that, Kendrenal continued ambling down the hallway.

Sahsi slowly looked over at Tynos and Wick. Tynos looked like he was going to be sick again while Wick was shaking. It took a second for her to realize Wick wasn’t freaked out… he was trying not to laugh.

“That answers the question if Turgut would calm down if he got some. The answer is no. Absolutely not.”

Next

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[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- The End of Silver Matilda

Prev.

“It is too fucking cold here! I hate Zayora!”

“Least you’re not too hot anymore like you were a few weeks ago.”

“Go fuck yourself, Garl.”

Sahsi’s teeth chattered as she attempted to smile, but it was too damn cold to do anything but keep marching forward.

Silver Matilda wasn’t far, the raven was consistently shifting and leaning forward in anticipation from where it perched on her shoulder. The hag was close. And she was waiting for them.

Wick was the only one not complaining about the cold. His jaw was tight, his fists were even tighter. Sparks would fly randomly out from the tips of his hair and around his scalp, but were quickly extinguished by the icy wind.

Turgut shook the snow from his eyes. “Keep your guard up, men! Er, women too! The witch isn’t far now!” he shouted the obvious.

When Kendrenal nudged Turgut, Sahsi thought the artificer was about to pull another prank on Turgut, but instead he plopped something in Turgut’s hands. “I’ve been tinkering this all morning while we walked, try it out!” Kendrenal said.

Turgut lifted it up to his face and frowned. “A… a monocle?” It was in fact a silver monocle.

“So you can actually hit things when you shoot your crossbow!” Kendrenal explained. “Try it!”

“My aim is just fine.” All the same, Turgut popped the monocle in place and blinked a few times. “… Huh. Well then. Perhaps I could shoot better than fine with this little trinket. Thank you, Kendrenal. How did you make this?”

“I always have some junk in my bag, pieces of glass, wire- it wasn’t hard!” Kendrenal shrugged. “You’re welcome!”

It really must be serious if Kendrenal was actually trying to help his other party members rather than piss them off, Sahsi thought to herself.

It came as just as surprise to her when they made the turn up the path and the blizzard just… stopped. The snow still whirled around the party, but this part of the trail was clear as a summer’s day.

The reason for the sudden change of weather was no doubt due to the three women in this eye of the storm. Sahsi shivered for a different reason now.

Three hags stood before them. The two bheur hags hadn’t bothered to hide their true faces, bone thin crones with frozen blue skin and hair coated in ice, but the woman between them hardly fit into the coven. A beautiful human lady, elegant with long brunette curls and dressed in noble finery, she looked more like a victim of abduction than a threat. But she wasn’t threatened by the two cackling bheur hags that had her surrounded. She looked content.

“Hello, hello, hello…” the woman chuckled and took a step forward. “My, it’s been a while since we’ve had so many guests. Welcome to the Gate.”

Odra stepped forward, her hand on her rapier. “Gate?” she repeated.

“The Gate is what we call this passage to Zayora. Oh, did you really think you were already there? No, my darling.” The lady shook her head and tutted her tongue. “This is the Gate. Pass us and you’ll be there shortly. But you’re not here to pass, are you?”

Sahsi glanced at Wick to ask for confirmation, but she didn’t need to. Wick’s hair burned white, and he was truly shaking with rage. She looked back towards the woman and steadied herself with a deep breath.

“We’re here on behalf of the young genasi you cruelly mutilated, Silver Matilda. We’re here to avenge him and all the others you’ve no doubt harmed and killed in your lifetime.”

The woman’s lips twisted in a dark smirk. “Little niece, you’re more of a bitch than your mother is,” she said. With a feral growl, the hag dropped the glamour, revealing her true shape- a bent, ugly demonic looking woman with ram’s horns that curled behind her ears and bright yellow eyes that made Sahsi think of rabid beasts.

“Niece?” Sahsi repeated.

“She didn’t tell you?” Silver Matilda cocked her head to the side and chuckled. “I was part of the coven that Genevieve's mother, Granny Dorcas, led. That made me her aunt, and it makes me yours too. Of course, when Genevieve killed Dorcas, I decided it was best to head to greener pastures.”

Before Sahsi could say anything else, Wick unsheathed his sword and stormed to the front of the group. “Do you remember him!? Do you remember Wax and what you did to him!?” he shouted.

Matilda blinked placidly. “… Oh, him? Eh, he brings forth thoughts of… subpar ingredients,” she said.

The wave of heat that rolled over the party from Wick’s body was enough to melt the snow on the ground and make sweat drip down Sahsi’s neck. But it wasn’t him that made the first move.

It was her.

“When you’re in hell, you’ll remember those who came in Wax’s name, and you’ll remember us ripping you limb from limb!”

Sahsi charged forward, leaping over Odra’s head and bringing her fingernails down across Matilda’s face. Her already sharp fingernails truly became like claws, ripping open the hag’s face and nearly taking an eyeball with it.

Matilda screeched as her skin burned with acid, marring her already terrible features. The hag sneered at Sahsi.

“It’ll give me great pleasure to kill you, girl.”

Matilda’s hand lit up with a spell Sahsi recognized as Magic Missile and she knew she messed up. But before she could hurl it, the spell sputtered out. Matilda gawped at her hand. “What the-”

Sahsi heard snickering from behind her… of course. Dullahan.

“Whoops. Counterspell. Maybe don’t cast it with so much juice next time.”

Sahsi was hauled back and out of the way by Thunderwarrior and the eye of the storm exploded into violence. Her trembling hands still dripping with hag blood, Sahsi stayed at the back and prepared her healing items and spells.

She really was becoming more like her mother every time she lost her temper.

The party charged forward, spells flying through the air like fireworks and blades slashing at the evasive hags. Matilda shouted something in Sylvan and bodies burst from the snow, skeletons and zombies coated in ice and weapons frozen in their hands.

Thunderwarrior tossed her head back and roared her battlecry before throwing herself at the undead army before her, Elphira and Tynos providing back up to tear through the hags’ foot soldiers.

Crowley twirled his mace in the air before he chased the bheur hag to the right. The woman’s spells zoomed past his head and before she knew it he was right in her face.

“Hello, and goodbye!”

The mace crunched right into her chest, knocking the air from her lungs. This did get him a ray of frost right to the chest, but Crowley seemed to shake off the spell with surprising ease.

The other bheur hag wasn’t as lucky- she never saw Odra coming, she was more focused on the gargoyle in front of her. Odra’s rapier stabbed her in the leg and when she instinctively went to clamp the wound, Garl bullrushed her and sent her flying… right off the side of the mountain, her staff bouncing after her while the woman shrieked.

“Byyyye, bitch!” Odra cackled.

Although the group was technically outnumbered, within minutes the undead’s numbers were decimated. The remaining bheur hag couldn’t keep up with the demand, and she didn’t see Turgut taking aim from behind her.

The crossbow bolt went right through the back of her head and she stood dumbly for a second before crumpling to the ground.

Turgut tapped his new monocle and looked quite impressed. “Hmm, I may have to keep this little bauble for a time,” he murmured to himself.

The last one standing was, of course, Silver Matilda. And no one was going to get between her and Wick without getting stabbed. The snow around the pair had melted, Wick burning so bright he was even singeing his own clothing. Silver Matilda threw her spells and sneered at the enraged genasi. She was weakening, but it was not enough.

Odra prepared her charge but Garl grabbed her by the scruff. “No kill stealing… not this time,” he said.

“Awwww…”

“Would you want someone to steal Calipher’s death from your hands?”

That stilled Odra and the goblin stopped trying to get involved in the fight. Matter of fact, no one really did. Everyone had surrounded the fighting pair, but no one was entering the fray. It was Wick’s revenge, and it was his alone.

It was a lucky blow when Silver Matilda fired off a magic missile that hit Wick right in the gut, sending him stumbling back. “Say hello to your pathetic little brother to me,” the hag growled as she threw her hand back, preparing to rip into him with her claws.

She hadn’t realized that Sahsi had been preparing her own spell. A gust of wind shoved the hag off balance, sending her teetering close to the edge of the cliff. While Silver Matilda struggled to maintain her balance, Sahsi rested her hands on Wick’s shoulders.

“Finish. Her. Off,” Sahsi whispered, her magic flowing from her fingertips into the genasi as she cast Guidance.

Sometimes all you need is just a little push to get the job done. By the time Silver Matilda recovered, she looked up to see Wick’s sword pierce her chest.

The air was pushed out of her and the hag just stared in shock. Wick smirked.

“I’d say tell him yourself. But you’re not going to where he is.”

Wick’s sword glowed like a hot coal and the hag’s flesh caught aflame. She couldn’t even scream. She just slumped dead. Wick withdrew her sword and kicked her burning corpse off the cliff.

There was a second pause.

Then Odra cheered.

“FUCK! YES!”

The group threw their hands in the air and all cheered together, the battle was won, and they’d won!

Garl didn’t wait for the cheering to finish. He started walking until he found a cave. “Hey, this is probably her lair- hurry up or I’m taking all the loot!” he shouted back.

“LIKE HELL YOU ARE!” Odra shouted after him, launching herself over bones and corpses to catch up. The rest of the group scrambled after them, continuing to chat and shout about the treasure that no doubt an old hag like Silver Matilda had stored up over the years.

Everyone but Wick and Sahsi.

Wick stared down the cliff where Silver Matilda’s body had vanished. He hadn’t cheered. He hadn’t moved since that hag had fallen out of sight. He just stood there. Silent.

Sahsi said nothing and allowed Wick his moment.

“… I’m sorry, Sahsi.”

That was not the first thing she expected to come out of his mouth. She tilted her head to the side. “Why are you apologizing?” she asked.

“Because you’re nothing like your mother, or Silver Matilda. Maybe… maybe not even all the hexbloods I’ve killed are like them.” Wick shuddered before he bitterly laughed. “Maybe on my way to avenge Wax, I became more like the hags than you. Because right now… I feel nothing. I don’t feel better. I feel nothing.”

Sahsi swallowed before she set her hand on Wick’s shoulder. He tensed but didn’t push her away.

“Did you cry for Wax?” she quietly asked.

Wick was quiet.

“You never took the time to grieve, did you?”

Wick finally shook his head no.

“… Now you can. And now you can move forward. Some of the things you did…” Sahsi brushed her fingers against her cheekbone, where his dagger has sliced her skin. “Well, you know. But you can’t take it all back. You can only move forward, and really, the only way to do that… is grieve.”

Wick was quiet and Sahsi nearly panicked, thinking she had said the wrong thing… and then she realized there was steam coming from Wick’s face.

He was crying. His chest shuddered and he broke down in sobs. He turned, pulled Sahsi into a tight embrace, and he wept.

Sahsi hesitantly returned the embrace, arms wrapped around his waist. Her hands stroked his back and she let him cry.

Let him grieve. Let him cry. And hope, just hope that he would be able to move on now.

Next (Coming Soon!)

[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- When Wick Met Crowley

Prev.

Three years ago…

“Sir Crowley, you truly were sent by angels to solve all our problems.”

Crowley remained knelt as the king showered praises on him. From the man’s position on the throne, it probably looked like Crowley was keeping his head bowed to the ground out of respect. And no noble was paying close enough attention to the aasimar’s eyes flicking from side to side. Watching them. Analyzing them.

The nobles looked like they were sharing a laugh, smirking and side eyeing the ‘simple’ paladin. The servants tried to keep their looks to themselves, but the ones they couldn’t hide were pitying. The way a butterfly pities the grasshopper tangled up in the spider’s web.

When the king finally took a breath, Crowley put a pleasant expression on his face. “Thank you, your majesty, but you speak too highly of me. I only wished to help, like any other good man would do,” he said, the lie sliding off his tongue smooth as honey. “As much as I’ve enjoyed my time in your beautiful lands, I will have to take my leave soon. There are others who need my assistance, as you had.”

“Leave? So soon?” The king looked disappointed, almost sad. “The time you’ve spent in my palace has passed so quickly.”

It’s been almost four months, Crowley thought, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent the obvious from slipping out. “I am grateful for your generous hospitality,” now that was laying it on a bit thick, even if he did love the suite he had been taking up space in, “but it is my creed, my oath, to go forth to help those who are in help, and once they no longer need me, I must move on.”

The king’s eyes briefly narrowed, his lip twitching as he forced himself to look as amicable as he always had. “Well, what is it I can give to you? Something to make any future journeys easier, or for you to enjoy your last night in my company,” he said.

And there it was. Crowley wanted to smack the king across the face. Crowley wasn’t like the rest of the country bumpkins the king had wheedled and conned into becoming his pets and pawns. No, he was smarter than that. He knew this king had a habit of tangling the people who worked for him into barbed snares and carefully worded contracts that would basically turn them into slaves. Usually they didn’t have the power or the nerve to fight back, resigning themselves to their cage. It was a beautiful cage, as far as cages went, but Crowley wasn’t a canary. If he had to compare himself to a bird, it would be a shrike.

Small, deadly, and with a penchant for impaling his prey in gruesome fashion.

Crowley had been careful to avoid anything that would tie him permanently to the king, not partaking in the glorious feasts or the company of the many beautiful courtesans and entertainers that the king decorated his palace with. He’d given the king every chance to stop playing this stupid game.

Well, you couldn’t fix stupid, and you couldn’t say no to a spoiled old man. No doubt if Crowley denied him again, he’d find another way to pin Crowley down. This problem had to be solved directly.

“Your generosity is so overwhelming, sir…” Crowley’s eyes flicked around the court again. He couldn’t get out of this alone. He needed an ally. Someone who was done with playing the songbird, the pretty statue in the corner, the slave who just needed a little push over the edge.

His gaze landed on a fire genasi and stayed there. Crowley vaguely remembered the minstrel’s beautiful music, but hadn’t given him much of a second look. Now he was taking that second look, and although the genasi tried to play it off as a face of resignation… there was some real rage behind those eyes that flickered like flames.

Perfect.

“But, if you insist, I suppose… I miss the music of my hometown.” Crowley sighed and rested a hand on his chest. “I dream of it every night, it makes my heart ache. If you have someone who can play the songs of Perre’daluney on a lute, I’d be eternally grateful.”

The king brightened up. “I have a man who can play any music you could ever want!” he clapped his hands. “Wick’of’Candle! Come forth!”

The fire genasi frowned but managed to put a pleasant expression on his face as he came forward. He cleared his throat. “I would be honored to perform for you, Sir Crowley,” he said.

Crowley smirked. “He’ll be perfect,” he nodded at the king, “please, have him sent to my suites tonight. I’d like to enjoy his music in… private. To help put me to sleep, you understand.”

There was a little snickering from the nobles and for a moment Crowley thought the genasi was going to set his instrument on fire. The king chuckled, looking darkly at the seething genasi. “Wick, you do whatever our privileged guest wants, and you’ll be well rewarded yourself,” he said.

“Yes, your majesty.”

That night Crowley was lounging on his couch, wearing one of the fancy robes he’d deprived himself of these several months, when the door banged open and in marched ‘Wick’of’Candle’.

“All right, what are you actually up to?” the genasi crossed his arms. “If you’re from Perre, I will eat my lute. I grew up there. I never heard of a ‘Crowley’.”

“Maybe I lived in Perre’daluney after you did,” Crowley said, glancing up from his couch. “You’re a genasi, you live much longer than most.”

“And you’re an aasimar, but you’re still not from Perre. No one who lived there called it Perre’daluney, they just call it Perre. So I say it again. What are you actually trying to do here?”

Crowley sighed before he sat up, shrugging off the robe. “Have a seat, pour yourself a glass of wine, Wick’of’Candle. We have plenty to discuss.”

“I’d rather remain sober. I’ve drunk enough of his majesty’s wine. And just Wick will do.” Wick did at least take a seat, his eyes suspiciously glancing Crowley up and down. “I don’t know what impression you have of me, but I’m not a whore. I’m a minstrel. I play music, not under the sheets.”

“Not happily though, do you?” Crowley smiled as Wick winced. “What? I’m not blind, nor deaf. Your music is beautiful but it’s… missing something. I’m not really much of a musician, but something still sounds off.”

Wick’s jaw clenched, but the minstrel took a deep breath to calm himself. “… If you really must know, I was a part of a duo. That is probably what sounds missing,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s it.” Crowley tapped his chin and leaned forward. “If you had a partner, he would’ve been tricked into one of the king’s contracts too. He didn’t just leave. Who was he? And what happened to him? Did he try to run away?”

The genasi looked at the floor before sighing. He set his instrument to the side. “We tried leaving a few months in, and this is what happened to me.” Wick had been dressed in this gaudy beaded vest that he easily shrugged off, and when he turned his back the scars that stretched across his back were clearly from a whip. He twisted back forward. “It was bearable when I had Wax though.”

“Wick’of’Candle… perhaps… Wax’of’Candle? Traveling brothers or lovers?” Crowley asked.

“Brothers… Wax was my little brother,” Wick swallowed and Crowley recognized that brief tensing of his body, the clenching of his fists and the squeezing of eyelids. Pain. Pain more horrible than anything Crowley could do with the sharpest blades in the world. “He’s gone.”

“And not by running away… execution?”

Wick remained still.

“Murder? Did one of the nobles get a bit rough with him?”

Wick pressed his lips firmly together.

“No…ah. He took the coward’s way out. Killed himself and left his big brother to carry the burden alone.”

Crowley learned quickly how poor his choice of words were when in the next moment he was tackled into the couch. Wick’s hand clamped around the paladin’s neck and squeezed down on his airpipe.

“He. Wasn’t. A coward,” Wick growled. “Tell me why I shouldn’t rip your throat out.”

Crowley gasped before he grasped the dagger he’d hidden in his robe and pulled it out, pressing it against Wick’s exposed ribs. He didn’t need to say anything, the blade did that enough. Wick gritted his teeth before he eased up, finally releasing the paladin and getting off of him.

“You’re going to tell the king I’ve attacked you, I assume?” the genasi mumbled.

“Please,” Crowley coughed, massaging his bruising neck. “I’d sooner slit my guts open. No, Wick, I need you. And you need me.”

“I need you?” Wick snorted. “Please.”

“No, I’m being serious. Sit down, please, and pour me some of that wine. I think I saw the darkness coming to drag me to hell.”

Wick still looked suspicious but he did as he was told. After Crowley downed the wine, he sighed with relief. “I’m not a fool- not implying you were, just naive- and I know the king is planning on turning me into one of his assets as soon as I get myself in debt to him. No doubt he’ll use your company as a bargaining chip. And if I simply continued to deny his offers, he’d find another way to keep me. I don’t deal well with being kept, or threatened, or blackmailed. I value my freedom.”

Wick frowned. “But you’re a… paladin…” his eyes widened. “You are a paladin, yes?”

“In a way, I am. But I’m not the paladin that idiot king thinks I am.” Crowley snorted. “You think I do this to help people? Out of the good of my heart? Please. In our world, you take or you’re taken. I’m taken by no one, and I abide by no code. I do this for what I get out of it- gold. Wealth. Magical items. I’ve collected quite a bit, and it’ll be more than a little difficult to continue to live the life I want to under the thumb of some fat royal arsehole who thinks he’s smarter than me. I need allies. I have one. And with you, I’ll have two.”

“Right…” Wick tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch. “And why will I be your ally exactly?”

“I’ll let you kill the king in any gruesomely horrible way you want. And you won’t have to stick by my side once we leave this gods forsaken country in the dust. You can go home, get back to traveling, I don’t care. Your will is going to be yours again, and I’ll never take that from you.”

Wick breathed in sharply and Crowley smirked.

He had him.

“… I might be able to do some work here…” Wick got up to check the door was locked before returning. “Right. Just watch.”

Wick plucked his flute from his belt. His eyes slid half shut and his fingers danced up and down the instrument before they popped back wide, the flickering orange flames in his irises going blue and then white.

Flames danced around the room and Crowley felt his dagger heat up where he’d left it on his lap. He barely had the sense to toss it before the metal starting glowing red hot. “… How did you figure that out?” the paladin asked.

Wick lowered his flute and the pride on his face was impossible to be missed. “After my brother passed, I suddenly tapped into it while practicing the songs we once shared. My mother was a follower of bardic tradition, she was only a human, but she could cast wonderful magic. I never bothered to learn it, I thought it was too hard. It turns out it just takes your heart being metaphorically ripped from your chest to start using magic. I’ve been using fire magics since I was a small child, so the spells I’ve put together so far tend to veer in that direction. I’ve just been practicing in my quarters whenever I have the time to breathe.”

Interesting. Crowley chuckled and slowly nodded, a plan forming in his mind. “A mostly self taught bard. You’re a surprising one, Wick’of’Candle, but I think we’re going to raise hell in this royal sty. First off, I need to get a message outside the gates to my companion, Turgut Tuun. We’ll need his help, he’s a giant buffoon, but he’s reliable since I feed him. After that, we’re going to need some supplies. I take it you know the people in this palace who have little loyalty to their king and are willing to look to the side for some more sketchy things?”

Wick nodded.

“Good. We’re going to need the gossip mongers, a few healers and doctors that are willing to accept bribes. And we’re going to need a cursed jewel I keep in my treasures, and we’re going to need bodies. Lots and lots of bodies. It’s going to be like the Plague of the Red in here, and after that it’s going to be the end of the king’s perfect world. As for that heating metal trick you can do… I have an idea for that.”

~*~

Five generations, his family had ruled this country. Five generations of wealth, and power, and truly King Jowell thought he’d had it all.

And now it was gone.

The palace was in flames. Zombies and skeletons ran wild through the streets. His family- heirs, wives, mistresses, all dead. A few were now the reanimated bodies that tore through his courts. His once beautiful courts.

He had it all. And in the matter of weeks, it was gone.

The paladin that was the cause of his undoing stood in front of him, smiling as the king hung from chains that were ice cold despite the fires roaring around him.

“How could you do this to me!?” Jowell shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. “You’re a paladin! You have an oath of loyalty! Of abiding to your word and listening to your king!”

Crowley tossed his head back, laughing and laughing like Jowell had told the funniest joke. “Oh, your majesty, you overestimate the strength of oaths. They’re very easily broken, and I broke mine ages before you had the misfortune of thinking I was the answer to all your prayers. I’m not a gift from heaven, I’m a present from hell. A lesson to be learned from all of this, not that you’ll benefit from it- never beat your broken hounds. The moment you turn your back, they’ll bite.”

Jowell watched as Wick came out of the flames, dressed in the finest of noble’s clothing with a minimal of the previous owner’s blood spatter across it. “You think this looks good on me, Crowley?” he asked, even striking a pose.

“Do a spin, let me decide,” Crowley mocked pensiveness as Wick did a twirl. “Mmm, it’s a bit too loose around the arse. You’ll need to get it tailored.”

Wick laughed, for the first time since his brother passed Wick tossed his head back and laughed. Jowell screamed in rage and pulled at his chains, his wrists turning black as the necrotic energy burned his flesh. “You traitor! I gave you everything you wanted! And this is how you repay me?!” he roared.

Wick’s laugh came to a stop and the genasi turned his flickering eyes on the king. “No, you didn’t give me everything I wanted, your majesty. You took everything from me.” Wick produced a collar from the bag he had thrown over his shoulder. “All I wanted was to have my brother by my side for all my days, to compose the most beautiful music this world has ever heard. And you sent him to that woman, she took his one joy in this world, and he couldn’t live after that.” Wick reached into his bag and pulled out an iron collar. “While I was setting the dungeons ablaze, I found this. You put one of these on me when I wouldn’t perform after Wax died and had me dragged around the court like a dog. I think it’ll be a tighter fit on your fat neck, but it’ll do the job just fine.”

Crowley took the collar, balancing it between his hands before he walked up to the king, snapping it around his neck. “All right, nice and tight. I’m excited to see what this is going to do,” he said before nodding at Wick. “Do your thing.”

Wick twirled his flute between his fingers.

“Your final song, your majesty. Enjoy hell.”

Wick put the flute to his lips and played a song. The king didn’t know what was going on until he felt the collar on his neck heat up.

Then he screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

There was nothing he could do to alleviate the pain. The iron collar’s red hot glow seared through his skin, burning into his flesh and simultaneously scalding any bleeding while burning through it. The king’s eyes rolled back as his clothing finally caught on fire, and there was a final minute of agonized screaming before he went limp. Crowley crouched down to see that the collar had burned through his throat, if it had kept going the king would likely be decapitated.

“Huh. You really went at it, huh?” he turned just in time to see Wick fall to his knees, the genasi gasping for breath and his eyes going dull. “All right, you went a little too far it looks. You’re not exactly a long term caster, idiot, you had him dead by the time it seared through his vocal cords.”

Wick glowered up at the paladin, too out of breath to speak. Crowley sighed before he helped Wick to his feet, letting the bard use him as support. “Come on, we’ve done what we’ve needed done. And I’d rather be a thousand miles from here before anyone catches onto what’s happened.”

~*~

The king was dead. Wick was free. Wax had been at least partially avenged.

Then why did Wick feel so hollow inside?

Crowley had made camp after a full night and day of walking, Wick had yet to leave the paladin’s side. That hot iron spell had really taken it out of him, and being on his own sounded like a new kind of hell.

For the first time in years, he was outside of that palace. Back on the road. Eating rations heated by the campfire, with fellow travelers enjoying the rest after a long day. Like he used to do with Wax.

Gods, he was supposed to feel better after nearly burning that bastard’s head off. But the pain hadn’t gone anywhere, just tightened around his heart so strongly it felt like he was about to break. Nothing had been made better after all. Instead, every time Crowley cracked a joke and Turgut obediently laughed, Wick’s heart sunk lower.

He’s supposed to be here.

He shouldn’t be gone.

He needs to be here.

He’s not here and he’s never coming back.

“Wick?”

Wick jerked out of his reverie to see Crowley looking at him. At least the paladin didn’t bother faking that he cared. It was quite clear Crowley didn’t care about anyone other than himself.

“Did you know that hags hoard a lot of treasure? Mostly magic items, and not as much as a dragon, but enough to be worth the trouble most of the time.”

Wick clenched his jaw. “Why are we talking about hags?” he asked.

“Because, if I was as hellbent on revenge as you, I’d be heading back out there to make sure every hag suffers for what happened to your baby brother,” Crowley patiently explained. “They’re a nasty bunch though, they rarely do their own dirty work. Usually they have their hexblooded children handle the worst of it, or they hire hobgoblins like my friend Turgut here.” Turgut noticeably brightened up at the word ‘friend’ but tried to play it off as his dramatic posturing. “Or ogres, or… really a bunch of other things. I’m definitely a little bored with what I’ve been dealing with lately. Bandits are so par for the course I could kill an entire village of them and have time for tea. A hag could liven things up, so to speak. So, I’m going to kill hags. Would you like to kill hags?”

Wick swallowed.

Well, maybe the king wasn’t enough. Maybe if he managed to rid the world of a few hags, it would help. And who knows… maybe he’d be able to exact his revenge on the hag who hurt Wax.

“I suppose I could pass the time with you. Not like I have anything else to do.”

Next

[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- Nightmares

Prev.

The cracking of her crown was more painful than the acid bath she was submerged in.

Sahsi tried to scream, only for more of that burning liquid to pour down her throat. She thrashed and kicked, but the strong hands holding her under did not falter. Not until the crown broke, crumbling away into specks, and then nothing at all.

Finally she emerged from the bath, screaming at the top of her lungs as she felt her skin bubble and crack. She scrambled on the ground, clawing at the clumps of hair that fell out, only to be replaced by gray, brittle strands that cut her clawed fingers like glass. Her hands had turned this hideous olive green color, and all Sahsi could do was watch in the mirror as her face aged ten, twenty, thirty, fifty years, until she couldn’t recognize herself anymore.

Behind her stood her mother.

“You’re just like me now.”

Sahsi opened her mouth to scream, but instead she laughed- the insane cackle of a green hag.

Sahsi’s eyes popped open as she gasped in the cold mountain air. At the last second she clamped her hand over her mouth to prevent any sound from escaping, only a few muffled squeaks making it out between her fingers.

Her fingers. Not a hag’s fingers. It was just a dream…

A nightmare.

Crap.

Sahsi looked over to her right, where Tynos was sleeping under a thousand blankets. The satyr was twitching, his fluffy ears pressed flat against his head as he shook his head. When he started to murmur no Sahsi realized what was happening.

Quickly she grabbed a coal from the burnt out fire and, after praying Tynos would forgive her, she pressed it against his exposed shoulder.

“Youch!”

Tynos bolted away, wincing at the pain of the burn. “S-Sahsi? What was that for?! That really hurt!”

“Silver Matilda knows we’re coming for her, and she’s looking for us. I needed to wake you up without you hitting top tier nightmare, and you need to wake everyone else up as quietly as possible,” Sahsi whispered.

Tynos’ eyes went wide. “She’s here?” he whispered.

“She’s nearby. She’s waiting for one of us to scream so she can pinpoint our location. Go!” Sahsi shoved Tynos gently before scrambling to the next bedroll, where Thunderwarrior was starting to pant. Sahsi pinched the Goliath harshly on the arm, which at least woke her up… but her immediate response was to grab Sahsi by the throat and nearly strangle her to death.

“Ack! Thunderwarrior! Leggo, I needed to wake… you… please stop, I’m gonna pass out…”

Thunderwarrior blinked a few times before she let go. “Sorry… my dreams…” She rubbed her scarred eyelids. “My eyes were really gone…”

“Matilda’s looking for us. Keep a look out outside the shelter, I’ll keep waking everyone up,” Sahsi explained.

Thunderwarrior nodded, scooping up her club before she inched out.

Elphira’s eyes were already open by the time Sahsi got to her. “I heard you, you’re not that stealthy. I’ll back up Nalthea,” she said quickly, not willing to look Sahsi in the eyes as she scrambled to get out of the shelter.

Garl was starting to react to the nightmare, murmuring in his slumber, but it was not easy to get a man made of rock to wake the hell up. Sahsi cursed under her breath in Halfling before she glanced at her hair.

Well. This was going to suck.

“Do not hate me, Garl.”

She felt her magic flow through the strands, and in the next thought several magical hairs stabbed Garl in the back. Garl’s eyes popped open, glowing such a fierce green Sahsi instinctively flinched.

“Where’s Odra?” he growled.

“Tynos is waking her up. Matilda’s invading our sleep with nightmares. Wake everyone up.”

Garl kicked off his blankets and winced as he touched his back, where a drop of thick tar oozed out of one of the deeper cuts. “You stabbed me,” he grumbled.

“I’ll give you a potion later, just go!”

Luckily Crowley woke with little fuss, and Tynos managed to get the hobgoblins awake by jumping on both of them simultaneously. Wick was woken with barely a touch, although Sahsi had to dodge getting her face burnt off. Dullahan somehow woke himself up without so much as a peep and he smacked Sylvia until the dhampir woke up and bit him on the hand.

Sahsi thought for a second that she might’ve avoided a catastrophe when a piercing wail broke the silence.

Odra was thrashing in her bedroll, her eyes squeezed shut as she wailed in agony. Garl swore before he grabbed her and clapped a hand over her mouth, but the damage had been done. For being so incredibly small, Odra could scream with the best of them.

“Odra! Wake up!” he hissed and gave her a rough shake.

Odra’s eyes popped open and her head whipped side to side to see the entire group staring at her. Immediately the goblin buried her face in Garl’s chest, her ears tilted downwards as she refused to look at anyone.

Garl breathed out. “You think the bitch knows where we are now?” he asked.

Sahsi bit her bottom lip before she decided to be honest. “Without a doubt. Odra? Are you okay?” She asked as she slowly approached the goblin.

“Fuck off. I don’t need… don’t need pity or anything,” Odra mumbled, and although most of her face was hidden, Sahsi saw the tears staining her face.

“What now then?” Sylvia said with a yawn.

“… No sleeping. She’ll send more nightmares, and the next ones will actually hurt. Like, to the point of killing.” Damn night hags. “Who wants to take watch outside?”

Crowley raised a hand, as well as Dullahan.

“Thanks guys.”

Elphira and Thunderwarrior came back into the shelter and plopped down on the ground, Thunderwarrior still rubbing at her eyes. “… I dreamed of my eyes being taken from me,” the Goliath said, breaking the silence.

Sahsi threw a log on the fire, stirring the coals up to set it all alight. “Brrr, it’s cold out here. You don’t have to tell us, Thunderwarrior. Nightmares can be personal things,” she said.

“I want to get it out. So it doesn’t fester in my head.”

Thunderwarrior sighed as she dropped her hand. “My… tribe had to abandon me after I was attacked by a large bird of prey. An eagle five times bigger than any we’d ever seen. I killed it. But it destroyed my vision. I could not hold back my people, so… I left before I had to be cast out.”

Sahsi’s jaw dropped. “That’s harsh,” she said.

“It’s our life. If someone can’t pull their weight, let them die in the cold.” Thunderwarrior shrugged. “It was not long after that Calipher found me. He had a healer restore my vision, let Elphira nurse me back to health. Let me believe he was a warrior. Not a coward that flees from cute little goblins. Crowley was a better choice.”

Sahsi heard Crowley snicker outside the tent while Odra smirked. “I’m fucking adorable and terrifying,” she said.

“You are definitely adorable,” Thunderwarrior agreed before clapping a hand on Elphira’s back. “Elphira is also much better company than Calipher.”

Elphira’s gray cheeks went pink as she looked away. “Um, thanks,” she mumbled quietly.

Everything was quiet for a few more minutes before Wick sighed and spoke up. “I saw my brother hanging from his noose. Only he wasn’t dead yet, and his injuries had reopened… before I could get him down, I was attacked by that witch.” His lip curled. “Silver Matilda. She forced me to stay and watch as… as he suffocated to death. I’m glad I didn’t see his final breath, otherwise, well, I’d be the one screaming instead of little Manyboots.”

Odra relaxed at that and Garl ruffled her ears. “You all got baggage, huh?” he said.

Kendrenal gave two thumbs up. “I was back home. Except I was going to be executed instead of abandoned!” he said in a bizarrely upbeat tone.

“Abandoned?” Sahsi repeated as she stirred the fire.

“When it was clear I wasn’t going to be a warrior, my father left me in a ditch.” Kendrenal took his gun out and started cleaning it as he jabbered on. “It was better to just leave me behind. I was holding everyone back.”

Sahsi cocked her head to the side. “… How old were you?”

“Oh, six, almost seven. It was obvious though, to anyone looking at me. Physically, I’m weak. Mentally though?” Kendrenal tapped his gun against his temple. “I’m the best in the room.”

Outside, Dullahan loudly cleared his throat. “Only because I’m not in there!” he shouted back.

Everyone chuckled, and even Odra cracked a grin as she snuggled into Garl’s arms.

Sahsi bit her lip before she nodded. “My nightmare was undergoing the hag transformation. It’s… painful. My mother’s method to get rid of our eldercross,” she paused and gestured to her horns, “is to put us in an acid bath. It burns the skin pretty badly, but it’s an effective way to get the horns off without taking a saw to them. I was changed into a Green Hag. I lost myself.”

Wick glanced over and for a second, he actually looked sympathetic. But he quickly shook it off, only bouncing a small flame between his hands. “Would… would be quite a horrible thing, losing yourself,” he murmured, unable to look up at Sahsi.

Tynos scooted closer to Sahsi and wrapped his blanket around them both. “You look cold,” he said. “And my dream was losing both my hooves, so I couldn’t crawl away from my attackers. I was just pulling myself on the ground, helpless. I haven’t had that one in forever.”

Sahsi snuggled right up next to the satyr. “Thank you! And… I’m sorry about that.”

“Your dream sounded waaaay worse.” Tynos stuck his tongue out. “Mine’s all in the past. I got out. You still have a lot to fear from your crazy mom.”

Sahsi laughed quietly until Odra made mock kissing sounds. The hexblood practically buried her face in the blankets, ignoring the giggles and cackles from the party.

Elphira had a soft smile on her face before she took a deep breath. “I mean… mine’s so normal compared to yours. I was just lost in the Underdark. I don’t have the darkvision my dad does, I can see pretty well… but not as well. In the dream, once he found out who he was, he abandoned me to stumble in the dark. Luckily, that didn’t happen in real life. He just escorted me to the surface and told me to never come back.”

“Your dad sounds like a dick,” Odra piped up with.

“He is.”

Sahsi glanced around the room until her gaze landed on the most uncomfortable people in the room- Sylvia and Turgut. “Syl? Are you okay?” she asked.

“Don’t call me that, I’m not a child,” Sylvia snarled, baring her fangs. “And I’m fine! I’m just fine. Get off my ass.”

Sahsi held up her hands. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m… I’m fine. I’m just fine. It was just…” Sylvia ran her fingers through her dark hair, where Sahsi caught a glimpse of a scar just under her hairline. “Experiments… lots of tubes. Things… hooked up to me. It’s nothing. Whatever. I’m used to it.”

Outside the tent, Dullahan cleared his throat again. “Please note that I had nothing to do with the tubes, that was before I adopted her,” he shouted.

“You didn’t adopt me! You just wouldn’t leave me alone!” Sylvia snapped.

“I adopted you. Now go back to bed, it’s late.”

“I will eat you.”

“You won’t like that, I taste like… what do you think I taste like, Crowley?”

“I’m not answering that.”

Turgut glanced nervously around the room before clearing his throat repeatedly. “I just need you to know I had no such dreams! None at all! I am not… afraid of such things! No sir! We were taught better than that in our regiment! The only reason Kendrenal experiences those things is because he was cast out too young. Children have nightmares, not… not adults. Not grown soldiers.”

“I’m older than you, dick,” Garl growled.

“And you’re willing to admit you were shaken by a bad dream?” Turgut challenged.

Garl glanced down at Odra, who was still snuggling up to him tightly. “You know what, yes. I am. Because lying is fucking stupid when we all had nightmares because a hag decided to play with our heads.”

Odra glanced up. “What did you dream about?” she asked.

Garl’s hard gaze softened and he gently patted Odra on the head. “… Only thing that could scare me. Losing you, runt,” he grumbled.

Odra blinked a few times to clear tears from her eyes, but she was smiling. “Yeah. Mine… was similar,” she said, and affectionately bonked her head against Garl’s arm.

Garl chuckled before looking up at Turgut. “You’re more of a pussy since you’re not saying shit,” he taunted.

Turgut scowled while everyone else burst out laughing, only crossing his arms and grumbling about the disrespect to superior officers.

Outside the shelter, Dullahan watched the moon rise higher in the sky. “Sounds like they feel better already,” he murmured.

“What did you dream about?” Crowley asked, his fingers drumming on his thigh.

“You know. The usual. Losing everyone and everything you give a damn about, only because you pretended not to give a damn for too long. You?”

“I don’t dream and tell.”

Dullahan quietly laughed. “I guessed as much. You have much attachment to your body parts, Crowley?” he asked.

“… That’s not a normal question people ask.”

“Just making sure. You know, there’s a lot to harvest from people that hit on my kid.”

“I- really? You’re pulling that?”

“Oh, I’m pulling far more if you push me.”

“You will not win a fight between us.”

“Are you willing to risk that?”

“You… just get back to keeping watch and stop harassing me.”

“We’re not done with this conversation.”

“Yes we are.”

Next

[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- Never Have I Ever

Prev.

“Hey Crowley. You’ve ever played Never Have I Ever?”

Crowley glanced up from where he was cleaning off his mace. The entire party were sprawled the fire, save for the aasimar. “I have not. Is it another one of your games? Because I’m not playing another round of A Million Gold With A Catch. I learned far too much about how slutty your companions are.”

Dullahan set a hand on his chest and gasped in mock offense. “I am not a slut. I’m practical.”

Elphira cleared her throat. “Come on, Crowley. Even I’m playing,” she pointed out.

That was a valid point. Somehow that sassy little goblin brought out the gentler side in the half drow, probably because Thunderwarrior would continue aww’ing over the little monster whenever they were stopping for a break or camped for the night.

Whatever. Not like there was anything else to do out here in the middle of nowhere. Besides, it was starting to get cold. Might as well be near the fire.

Crowley laid his mace to the side before joining everyone else. “Okay, how do we play?” he asked.

Odra cheered. “Okay, okay, normally we’d do it while taking shots at the bar,”

Crowley snorted. “That sounds like the far more enjoyable method,” he muttered.

“Don’t interrupt!” Odra scooped up a pebble and threw it at Crowley’s head. Crowley barely ducked in time to avoid a rock to the skull. “Anyway, without shots, we’re down to the finger method. We all have five fingers up. Anytime someone asks ‘never have I ever’, and it turns out you’ve done the thing, you put a finger down. Whoever puts the least amount of fingers down by the end is a pussy. Sound good?”

Tynos frowned. “I thought whoever put the least amount of fingers down was the winner?” he asked.

“Not the way I play it. I’ll go first!” Odra shot up five fingers. “Never have I ever danced on the bar while drunk!”

Immediately Elphira, Kendrenal, Wick, and Sahsi put their fingers down. Sahsi coughed and immediately ducked her head to hide the blush on her cheeks. “Listen, halfling parties get intense,” she explained.

Odra cackled before looking at Garl. “Your turn,” she said.

Garl smirked. “Never have I ever eaten dead animals I’ve peeled off the side of the road,” he said, looking directly at Odra.

“Oh go fuck yourself!” Odra scowled as she put a finger down before glancing out at the others. “… That may have been unfairly targeted at me, but I’m not alone. I can get Kendrenal, fellow gob and all,” Kendrenal saluted. “But Dullahan!? You’re a human, idiot! That can actually hurt you!”

Dullahan shrugged. “It was either the dead squirrel or my toenails for the third day in a row. And I was running low on those.” He kicked his boot off and wiggled his toes- he was in fact missing his entire pinky toenail. “So. Squirrel.”

Sylvia gagged and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, you’re so gross, stop! Put your boot back on!” she said. Kendrenal wrinkled his nose but didn’t say anything- he just handed Dullahan back his boot.

Dullahan hardly seemed bothered by his confession. “You’d be surprised how much energy is wasted on growing toenails and fingernails. I was just re-purposing it to be useful. It also curbs my desire to eat flesh, so, there’s that.”

“My turn!” Sahsi blurted out. “Ummmmm… never have I ever… attacked someone from behind?”

There was much cussing as fingers went down. Odra flipped Sahsi off with her other hand. “That’s so not fair! I do my best work when they don’t realize I’m there!” the goblin complained.

Sahsi glanced around the fire, her jaw dropping. “Am I the only one who doesn’t go for cheap shots?!” she complained.

Tynos waved. “I didn’t put a finger down!” he said cheerfully.

“… You’re also a healer, like me.” Sahsi shook her head. “Literally everyone else put a finger down.”

Wick waggled his fingers. “You take the shots you’re given, darling,” he said.

Tynos clapped his hands together. “Okay! My turn! Never have I eveeerrr… made a public love declaration and gotten brutally shot down!” he said.

Wick smirked. “I’ve made declarations, but I’ve yet been turned down. Elphira, on the other hand…”

“Eat dirt.” Elphira put a finger down, her cheeks taking on a bit of a violet hue.

Tynos’ ears tilted down. “Oh, crap, sorry! I didn’t know! I wouldn’t have said it if I’d known,” he apologized frantically.

“Idiot, you’re supposed to say things you think anyone else has done,” Elphira shook her head. “… Wait, Turgut, did you put a-”

“It happens to be my turn! Do not take my turn!” Turgut interrupted, clearing his throat repeatedly. “Right then. Never have I ever disobeyed a direct order from a superior officer! Right, put fingers down, all of you! Even you, Tynos!”

Kendrenal smirked. “I mean, the satyr’s never disobeyed a direct order- it just hasn’t listened to you,” he sing songed.

Turgut sputtered angrily before shaking his fist at Kendrenal. “Then you acknowledge my superiority! You put a finger down, I saw it!” he accused.

“Oh, no, I disobeyed Calipher when I left it behind. Calipher ordered me to stay, but until I left the camp, I was still under its order.” Kendrenal nodded. “What made you think I’d ever view you as a superior?”

Turgut nearly swung at Kendrenal before forcing his fist down into the ground. “Take your turn, Elphira,” he growled.

“Sure. Never have I ever sucked a man’s dick.”

“Lesbians unite!” Odra cackled, getting up from her spot to high five Elphira.

Sahsi’s face was bright pink as she glanced over at Tynos, who seemed very focused on the constellations above his head. “… who’s?” she whispered.

“Satyrs are very in touch with their sexuality. I’ve been active with all sexes since I was old enough to consent to the acts,” he murmured back.

Crowley shrugged. “I think the only ones who kept fingers up were the lesbians, the virgin, and the straights- hello Turgut, Garl.”

Odra paused for a moment. “… Wait, what about that tiefling that worked at Fit For Kings for a bit?”

“Elphira specifically said a man’s dick. And I never went down on Ritari,” Garl shook his finger. “Specifics.”

“Fair enough. Your turn, ThunderWarrior!”

The Goliath flexed. “Never have I ever lost a fair fight against a fellow warrior,” she said.

Garl twisted his mouth but he did reluctantly put a finger down. Odra glowered and Garl had to reach over and physically put one of her fingers down.

Thunderwarrior nodded. “At least you acknowledge your failings. That means it is now your turn, Kendrenal.”

“Hmmm…” the hobgoblin drummed his fingers on his leg. “Never… have I ever… never have I ever fallen in love!”

Garl cocked an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s a good thing,” he said, even as his fingers remained perfectly still.

“It’s not?”

Dullahan cleared his throat. “Never have I ever owned a bag of holding,” he said.

“Really?” Sahsi asked as she put a finger down. “I guess it counts, I only borrowed it, but I kept it for a few months.”

“I want to make one, but apparently,” Dullahan rolled his eyes, “Sylvia thinks it’s too gross.”

“You wanted to turn a corpse into your ‘bag of holding’!” Sylvia snapped.

“Yes, because then it would have legs and walk around so I don’t have to carry it. I don’t see the problem.”

Kendrenal perked up, his ears twitching excitedly. “You think you could share your notes with me on that project? That sounds fascinating!”

Sylvia elbowed Dullahan before the human could say anything. “Never have I ever worn professionally tailored clothes,” she said quickly.

Sahsi paused as she saw Odra lower a finger. “Wait, really?” she asked.

Odra stuck her boots out. “What, my name is Manyboots! And finding generic shoes my size is a pain. Does going to the cobbler on a monthly basis count as pro tailored?” she asked.

Sylvia shrugged. “I guess.”

“Then yeah, my finger stays down. Really, you gotta see that cobbler in Lockmere, their shoes are so comfy!”

Crowley chuckled. “Then it’s my turn… never have I ever had such a good time playing one of your stupid games, Odra,” he said.

Odra stuck her tongue out. “I’ll take that as a compliment, and we move on. Wick, your turn!”

“Never have I ever participated in a sexual experience involving three or more people.”

Wick promptly put one of his own fingers down and smirked. Garl put a finger down and cocked his head to the side. “… So how many at once?” the gargoyle asked.

“Five. There would’ve been six, but the moment the dragonborn got on the bed it broke and that killed the mood. You?”

“Four. Odra and I just handled a big job, I was celebrating at Fit for Kings.”

Elphira made a sound of disgust. “We get it, you’re both whores- wait, Kendrenal! Tynos?! What the hell is wrong with you two?!”

“I’m a satyr! You ask me a sexual never have I ever, I’m probably going to put a finger down!”

“Gangbangs can pay good money!”

Turgut had taken a sip from a flask at the wrong moment, as he immediately choked and ended up spewing the mouthful of whiskey all over. Odra screeched with laughter, falling over into Garl as she cracked up.

Finally, she caught her breath, wiping the tears away from her eyes as she pushed herself up. “… So I completely lost track of how many fingers I put down, who wants to go another round?” she asked.

Wick raised his hand. “I’m in. Only if the next round is all sexual questions.”

“Sounds good to me. Anyone have any objections?”

Sylvia opened her mouth but before she could say anything Dullahan clapped his hands over her ears. “She’s going to bed, or I’m going to bed,” he said.

Sylvia hissed like a cat and snapped her fangs at him, Dullahan barely avoiding getting bitten on the arm.

“… I guess it’s me.”

Next

[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- The Parties Meet

Prev.

On the road again. Odra was riding on Garl’s shoulders, Dullahan was mashing up bugs in this lidded cup while rambling onto the disgusted Sylvia about the protein benefits in crickets, and Garl was in a pleasant mood after having a one night stand with a literal goddamn queen. Lucky bastard. Granted, it was probably a bit too kinky for his typical tastes, but you do not miss the chance to bone royalty. Never.

“So, whatcha wanna do when we get home?” Odra asked, propping her arms up on Garl’s head.

“Sleep. Get drunk. Head to Fit For Kings,” Garl said.

Sylvia grimaced. “Gross.”

Odra looked back at the pair. “You can get your nails painted with me if you want!” she chirped, waving her fingers in the air. A few days before they’d left, Sahsi had painted Odra’s nails a lime green. “It’s super relaxing! The lotion smells funky, but you might like it!”

Sylvia cocked an eyebrow and looked ready to say no before she considered something. “… Does she have any black paint?” she asked.

Odra nodded. “Yup!”

“Sure, why not. Better way to relax than dealing with Dullahan’s stupid experiments.”

“Hey!” Dullahan shook his finger at Sylvia. “I might want my fingernails painted too, ever consider that?”

“What color would you pick?” Odra asked.

“Oooh. Can I have each nail a different color?”

Sylvia glowered. “Dullahan, do not crash girl’s night, or I will kill you,” she threatened.

Dullahan smirked before looking up at Odra. “Each nail a different color then. And do the same for Sylvia,” he said to the cackling goblin.

“Dullahan!”

“Well, well, well… this is an interesting meeting of parties.”

It just so happened that Odra and company had just reached a meeting of paths… and it was impossible not to recognize the aasimar in black armor.

Odra flung herself off of Garl’s shoulders and rested her hand on her rapier as she strode across the path to meet Crowley. The aasimar smirked and crouched down to get a better look at Odra. “So, did you put the dead guy back?” he asked.

“Stand up straight. I’m not a fucking toddler, don’t treat me like one.” Odra crossed her arms and scowled up at Crowley. “And yes, we did. He’s back with his people, and we’re on our way home. What’s your business up here?”

“The typical- murder.” There was a beat of silence before Crowley chuckled and straightened himself. “To be more specific, we’re handling a night hag by the name of Silver Matilda. Long story short, she’s quite the thorn in the side of some people. Wouldn’t it be fun to kill a hag?”

“If you’re looking for a meat bag to sacrifice, forget it.” Odra stuck her tongue out. “Garl and I could take out a night hag on our own, in our fucking sleep. Don’t try to bullshit us into throwing us into the grinder so you can have all the treasures for yourself. Besides, check it,” she gestured to her brand new rapier. “Gift from the drow queen. Magical and everything. So eat dicks.”

Crowley tutted his tongue. “You’re so vulgar, come now. There’s no reason to be so hurtful,” he said.

“All I know about you is that you stole that armor, and you stole that mace,” Odra pointed towards the mace hanging at Crowley’s waist. “You’re not giving me a good vibe. In fact, I think you might be a bigger asshole than me and Garl combined- and we’re definitely not good people. But you’re worse.”

Crowley’s jaw tightened and something cold appeared behind his eyes, but he quickly eased off when he glanced behind Odra, specifically at her partner Garl. “… I suppose I am quite easy to read,” He laughed. “It’s always good to have a meat shield, you know? Especially one that’ll live. They’re more useful like that. But there’s another bonus to coming with us. You get to hang out with a friend.”

“None of you are my friends.”

“I wasn’t talking about us.” Crowley glanced over his shoulder. “Wick, where did Tynos go with our extra party member?”

Wick frowned, flicking his sunglasses down his nose to look behind him. “Oh, they’re probably picking berries again- oh, there they are. And what do you know, they did go pick berries.”

Odra’s jaw dropped as she saw Tynos emerge from the brushes with Sahsi Humble. Both were carrying baskets overflowing with blackberries, and Sahsi seemed to be in good spirits.

“Sahsi!? What the fuck are you doing out here?!”

Sahsi nearly tripped over her own feet but was caught by Tynos at the last second. “Oh! Odra! Hi!” The hexblood waved excitedly. “Erm, I’m on an adventure?”

Odra shoved Crowley out of the way (and he did actually stumble, much to her amusement) and strolled up to Sahsi. “With these losers? No offense, goat boy,” she said.

Tynos laughed nervously, and while Sahsi mostly managed to keep her composure, her eyes briefly betrayed fear. “I mean, they’re not so bad. They needed… my point of view on things. And my free pass to talk to my mother, Ancient Genevieve.”

Odra’s jaw dropped. “They took you to your mom!? Are you kidding me, she’s a bitch!” she blurted out.

Wick snorted and murmured, “You’re telling us.”

“Yeeaahh… it was a bit of a frightening visit. But, we’re doing this for a good cause, and I’m just fine.” Sahsi forced that friendly upbeat smile. “Really, Odra, I’m fine.”

Odra chewed her lip before she looked back at Crowley. The aasimar smiled disarmingly, but something about him made her skin crawl.

The goblin held up a finger before trotting off to her party. Garl scooped her up and placed her on his shoulder so Odra could talk to him quietly.

“Something smells fishy here, and it’s not just Dullahan’s weird potions,” Odra hissed.

“She seems fine, Odra,” Garl glanced at Sahsi, who was passing out berries to her other temporary party members. “… Well, we don’t need to go home right away.”

“Exactly.” Odra glanced back at Dullahan and Sylvia. “Kay, if you two wanna go home, we’ll part ways when the road for Lockmere splits off.”

Dullahan stroked his scraggly goatee as he eyed the other party. “… I mean, hags have some really good potion recipes in their catalog. I’m in to ruin Crowley’s day. Sylvia? … Sylvia?”

“Huh?” Sylvia jerked out of her apparent daze. “Oh, um, sure. Whatever.”

“We’re in then.”

Odra nodded before she leaped back off of Garl’s shoulders. “All right, we’re with you! You try and take all the gold though and I’m sticking my new rapier up your ass so far it’ll come out your throat!” she shouted.

Crowley laughed and gestured Odra’s party forward. Grumbling quietly, Odra fell into the group next to fellow rogue Elphira. Thunderwarrior softly squealed at the sight of the goblin, but Odra ignored her to focus on Sahsi. At least Tynos didn’t seem that bad. He almost seemed… well. Normal. Among these assholes, he even seemed saintly.

Didn’t meant Odra didn’t trust him still. She didn’t trust anyone that followed this armor thief.

Turgut eyed the larger party before clearing his throat. “All in formation? Very well then. Forward, march! Lead with your left, we have a long way to the mountains!”

Garl glared at the hobgoblin. “The day I start listening to you, Turgut, is the day I lose all of my self respect,” he growled.

Kendrenal giggled until Garl shifted his glower at him. “If you think I’ve forgotten about the time you fucking shot Odra in the back, I haven’t. Don’t give me a reason to stuff your cannon down your throat and pull the trigger.”

Kendrenal gulped and skittered back towards Dullahan, who seemed remarkably interested in Kendrenal’s leathery skin and started asking questions about how dense it was, how easily it was harvested, and if the hobgoblin ever had any issues with dandruff. Somehow, this was less threatening, and Kendrenal happily chatted back and forth about his biology.

Crowley sighed happily as the party moved on. Well, he didn’t count on that little goblin to show up, but she was a competent fighter if things really did get dicey. A body shield that was good at not dying was an asset, and she’d cooperate as long as Sahsi was there. And Sahsi wouldn’t say a word about their little agreement, since she valued her blood still being in her body.

“Ummm… hey.”

Crowley hummed as he glanced over to see Sylvia, the dhampir tucking a lock of ebony hair behind her ear and trying to seem focused on the path ahead of them rather than looking over at Crowley.

“Hello there. Sylvia, right?”

“Oh, um, yeah. That’s my name.” Sylvia’s eyes flicked over for a moment before returning forward. Crowley would’ve thought it a trick of the sunlight, but her face was a little pink right now. “So, how long have you been… adventuring? Or whatever.”

“How long…” Crowley twisted his mouth as he mulled that over. “I think it’s been a few years now. After I finished my paladin training, but before I broke my oath, of course.”

Sylvia’s breath caught. “You really are an Oathbreaker, then?” she asked.

“I am. And I’m a lot more useful than your average paladin for that reason. I’ve learned how to retrain my powers into more… necrotic forces.” Crowley grinned at Sylvia. “Give it a little more time- I’ll be able to control my own undead army. Leave this party behind. But who knows… maybe I’ll take a few of those closest to me along.”

“Yeah?” Sylvia gulped, her fingers fiddling with her hair again. “That’s cool. I’m a summoner. I summon this shadow bear… thing. I call him Matt.”

“That’s a good name. I like summoners, Sylvia.” Crowley’s hand brushed up against Sylvia’s side. “I’d like to get to know you better.”

“That’s… nice.” Sylvia smiled, a rare sight on the typically grouchy dhampir. “I’d like to get to know you too.”

Dullahan was in the middle of asking Kendrenal about the accumulation of a hobgoblin’s earwax when he paused.

“… I just got a chill.”

“Is this normal?”

“… No. How old’s Crowley?”

“Iiiii… don’t… know?”

“Huh. Interesting. And when does he go to sleep at night? Just… curious.”

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[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- Return a Body, Reap the Rewards

Prev.

Talice peeked down the cliff where her attackers were.

So her sister had outsourced. She’d never seen the half vampire before, and that wasn’t one of the gargoyles from the Alabasterclaw clan. He was too gray. Unfortunate that they had to find her. She had to take care of them. She wasn’t done with her experiment yet, and like hell they’d take them away from her now, not without a fight.

All it would take would be a well aimed eldritch blast to give her enough time to escape.. There was the gargoyle, the half vampire, the wizard…

Wait. Where was the goblin?

“Boo.”

Talice huffed as Odra pressed her dagger against her neck. “Lemme guess- big sis is ending my fun?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

The goblin grinned. “Yup,” she said, popping her lips on the p.

“Boo. Any chance I can talk you out of it?”

“Nah. We gotta put a gargoyle back where it died, and Garl’s gonna get it on with your sister.”

“Ew. Too much information. But kudos to sis for managing to drag one of those rock hard boys into her bedroom.”

“He comes pebbles, you know.”

“Again, too much information. Fine, I’ll call the zombies off.”

The drow snapped her fingers and every corpse dropped at once. Odra smiled as she pulled her knife back and tied Talice’s hands together. “You’re not so bad! Lots of other peeps get mad when they’re under arrest!” The goblin said with a cackle.

Talice rolled her eyes. “Please. That won’t last. Ten years, max, you’ll all be here to ‘arrest’ me again,” she said.

“Woman, I’m a goblin. In ten years, I better be fucking retiring in a pile of gold with a beautiful lady by my side. You might see Garl again though!”

“Joy.”

~*~

Talice was dealt with. Now to get the job done.

Garl grabbed the cart’s handles and nodded at Sylvia and Dullahan. “You two can handle taking her back, yeah?” he said.

Dullahan waved the gargoyle forward. “No problem. Besides, I want to compare research notes with Talice,” he said.

Talice rolled her eyes. “What possibly could you have to offer me in return for my knowledge?”

“The pleasure of my company. It’s either that, or we walk in silence all the way back to the city. Besides, I might surprise you with my own… discoveries.”

Garl shook his head as the party split. He glanced down at Odra. “You don’t have to come with,” he grumbled. “This could be like my nest. They won’t like outsiders. Even I might have trouble getting in.”

Odra responded by clambering up onto Garl’s shoulders. “We started this together, we’re finishing it. Besides, I don’t wanna know what Dullahan’s gonna chat about with Talice. What doesn’t go over my head will definitely be gross.”

“Good point.”

The path the nest wound and turned, narrowing as they went along. Soon it was just wide enough for a single file line. Odra even had to hop off of Garl’s shoulder when the ceiling was too low to allow it anymore.

Odra glanced back at the cart. “I hope the cart will fit-”

The goblin proceeded to smack right into what felt like a stone wall. She landed on her ass with a yelp, rubbing her nose as she blinked stars from her eyes. “Owwww…” she finally refocused her eyes and stared in front of her.

At first, it did just look like a wall. Then it opened its glowing yellow eyes and spread its demonic wings.

Another gargoyle. Holy balls.

Odra swallowed and felt nervous as the stranger gargoyle stared down at her. “H… hey theere…” she laughed awkwardly and glanced up at Garl. “Help me out here, bud?”

Garl sighed and cleared his throat. When he spoke again, he spoke in a different cadence. “Hail. Speech of choice, common of under, primordial?” he asked.

Now the stranger gargoyle responded, blinking a few times before smiling. “Common of under is my choice! Hail! Family?”

“Carver, Blackstone. Garl is the personal name.” Garl gestured back to the cart. “The Old One, we come to return. Found, sold by a limestone.”

The gargoyle glanced behind Garl and gasped. “Father!” they blurted out. “The Old One! Bring him, follow along! Come, come!” the gargoyle gestured frantically before running on ahead.

Odra looked up at Garl. “The fuck? Why were you talking like that?” she asked.

“It’s Undercommon. Same words, different order. We’re fine, let’s get this old one home.”

Garl pulled the cart along, and although for a few feet the sides of the cart scraped the walls, it managed to fit. The path expanded before opening up, and then they were in the Nest.

The large cave was impressive to see. Glowing mushrooms and moss hung from the walls, so the nest wasn’t in complete blackness. Several small caverns and niches were carved into the walls, where gargoyles of all descriptions and sizes slept, worked, and chatted with each other in that strange Undercommon. The cavern went up and up until the dark swallowed it up. Odra couldn’t see a ceiling. On the floor level there was several pools of still water, where more moss was growing and was being groomed. More paths led out of the Nest, and some gargoyles returned from the paths carting along more stone and jewels.

Garl continued to pull along the cart, and slowly other gargoyles took notice of what Garl had with him. Whispers filled the room, until all was silent as Garl stood in the center of the Nest. All eyes were on them. Odra felt a bit of sweat drip down the back of her neck. She didn’t like being seen.

An ear shattering roar echoed throughout the nest, and a gargoyle of impressive size leaped out from one of the niches. They landed in front of Odra and Garl, and when they stood to their full height Garl looked shrimpish, almost toylike compared to them. Odra wasn’t even sure if the giant gargoyle could notice her.

“A Blackstone?” The gargoyle cocked their head to the side, their red eyes burning into the pair. “Inwards, purely inwards, they stay. No one’s ever seen a Blackstone, not here at least. And you bring the old Carver back? My father?”

Garl bowed his head. “I do. The limestone who took him, he’ll never be back. Drop him, if he is.”

The giant gargoyle grinned, before they boomed with laughter.

“All right, I’ll switch my dialect. I think we’re scaring the little one!” The gargoyle knelt down and for once Odra didn’t find it in her to correct them. When they patted her head, their hand was big enough to almost entirely cover her skull. “Greetings, goblin. I speak your version of Common. I am this generation’s carver, Nobal. I am nei’there, not man or woman, and will not respond to being addressed as either. You are?”

“Ummmm…” Odra swallowed before finding her words. “I am Odra Manyboots, I’m… I guess a girl?”

“No need to specify, I just do because it gets that conversation out of the way.” Nobal stood back up. “So. Garl. How intriguing, I didn’t think Blackstones took personal names.”

“Had to when I left. People kept asking, it got annoying.” Garl stepped out of the way of the cart. “Well? Where did he die?”

Nobal’s scarlet gaze went soft as they hurried to the side of the cart. They inhaled sharply as they rested their hands on the dead gargoyle’s face. “… Not far. Right before his time came, he asked to be taken to the other still ones, and we got him there before he passed on. I… I never thought we’d see him again. If you wouldn’t mind, could you carry him there? I will lead the way.”

“I would be honored,” Garl said.

Nobal glanced down at Odra, and with a big smile, scooped the goblin up and placed her on their shoulders. “So you don’t get stepped on. Stop up your ears real quick,” she said.

Odra clapped her hands over her ears, and Nobal threw their head back and roared again. The sound of a hundred wings flapping filled the air, gargoyles landing all around them with incredible crashes and bangs. Garl looked briefly flustered to be surrounded by so many gargoyles and even more so as they lined up behind him, bowing their heads in respect.

“Come along. Let’s see to it that Stanon is put back to rest where he belongs.”

Odra propped her head up on top of Nobal’s as the train of gargoyles walked down to a path that lead deeper into the earth. Odra expected it to be as cold as the rest of the place, but much to her surprise it got hotter. Borderline sweltering. None of the gargoyles seemed to mind though, so Odra kept her mouth shut as Nobal talked about Stanon.

“Stanon was the carver of the Alabasterclaws before I was. He carved me and many of the other elders. I was his first carved. I was treasured by him, and when he passed twenty and three years ago? He named me the next generation’s carver with the few breaths he had left. I… I was always loved by him. And although he knew gargoyles need to rely on themselves and not on the other peoples, he was never opposed to the world outside our Nest. It’s how I knew I was Nei’there, he learned of the halfling term during a pilgrimage, and then he took it home.

“A traveler, a teacher, and a gentle soul. Stanon never resorted to violence when there was another choice. He was over eight centuries old when he finally joined the still ones. I can only try my best to continue his peaceful ways. And here we are, with the Still Ones.”

The ‘Still Ones’ were other gargoyles that had long passed away. Some had been dead for so long their faces had worn away, but there wasn’t any moss growing on their bodies. They were well taken care of. Even the ones that had likely been dead before Nobal or even Stanon were born had flowers sat in front of them.

There was a spot empty, too clean to be anything but the previous site of Stanon’s grave.

“I’ll help you put him back.” Nobal set Odra down next to another still gargoyle before they turned to help Garl hoist Stanon out of the cart. They placed him down in that empty space with the utmost care, like handling a fragile artifact. Nobal rested both of their hands on their carver’s face, and although Odra would deny it to the grave, her heart twinged as Nobal rested their forehead on Stanon’s.

“I missed you so much,” they whispered quietly before they stood straight. They spread their arms out and faced their people. “Home! Home, Stanon comes home!”

The gargoyles cheered, their voices no doubt echoing for miles in the Underdark. Odra’s ears wouldn’t stop ringing for literal hours.

After they returned to the Nest, Nobal escorted Garl and Odra to their niche. It was no more majestic than any other one, just enough space for a stone cot and a carving bench. “I cannot thank you both enough,” they said. “No matter what you need, the Alabasterclaw Nest will be with you. You’ve returned Stanon to his resting place.”

Odra shrugged. “No big deal, the big guy insisted on it- well, the little guy to you,” she said.

Nobal laughed and took a seat at their workbench. “Stanon was ambitious with me. He found a truly massive piece of perfect stone and became inspired. He didn’t sleep for days while he carved me. He didn’t want to waste a single pebble, so I turned out quite large. And although it may not be a big deal to you, being one who burns their dead and eats the ashes, it’s important to us, the gargoyles, that we remain to watch over those we leave behind once we still.”

“Not all goblins eat the ashes,” Odra pointed out.

“My apologies,” Nobal bowed their head. “The goblins I met did. A small tribe, but a kind one on the Eubura continent. I learned much about their ways. They’ve influenced my new one.”

Odra looked up at the workbench and gasped quietly. The piece of stone was marble, but even though it had the beginnings of horns and wings, Odra could roughly make out the large ears, and there were two fist sized rubies sitting next to it. “A gargoyle goblin?” she asked.

“Something like that. Gargoyles are inspired by flesh races. For instance, Garl is a human appearing gargoyle,” she gestured to Garl, “and I am inspired by the Goliaths. I’ve never seen a goblin appearing gargoyle though. But in your honor, may I call this one Lodra?”

Odra gaped. She couldn’t even find the right words to say. She only managed to get a squeak out. Garl laughed and translated, “She’s all right with it.”

“I sure fucking am!” Odra laughed, grinning from ear to ear. “Holy shit, that’s sweet! I’m like a real hero if people are naming their kids after me!”

Nobal laughed again. “I won’t be done with Lodra for another year or so, but when I am done, I’ll be sure to send an invitation so you and Garl can be here for their awakening day. Would you like to stay here tonight?”

Odra opened her mouth to say yes when Garl cleared his throat. “Sadly, we have to report back to the Drow Queen.”

“What a pity,” Nobal sighed. “Go forth then. But in this Nest, you’ll always be welcome, all right?”

Garl looked flustered again. “… You figured I’m not welcome back in mine, huh?” he grumbled.

“I know the Blackstone nest well enough to make some assumptions. You had to have been very brave to leave them,” Nobal said.

Garl snorted before he shook his head. “No, carver, I was just fucking bored.”

This time when Nobal laughed, the whole nest could hear it.

~*~

A new magical focus for Sylvia, a garnet amulet in the shape of a tear drop.

A book full of strange and macabre spells given to Dullahan, courtesy of Talice’s research notes.

A rapier made of starsteel for Odra.

And for Garl…

“How fucking strong are these things?”

Garl had barely left the celebration that was being held in the party’s honor before his vision went black and he found himself in a strange bed, his arms tied above his head and red silk obscuring his vision.

He heard a quiet chuckle before the blindfold was removed. There was Queen Rillana. And that corset she was wearing… oh boy.

“The game began the moment you returned, darling,” Rillana said with a smirk. “If you want to end the game, simply say so.”

Garl smirked back. Well. This was definitely a worthy reward.

“I’m not a quitter. Show me what you got.”

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[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- The Kingdom of the Hags

Prev.

They’d made it to the Swamps. It’d been a stressful few days, yet Sahsi wished it would stretch on a little more. It wasn’t easy traveling with this violent group, it was still preferable to what was ahead.

“We’ll head into the Kingdom of the Hags tonight,” she said.

Crowley rested his hand on his mace. “We have to enter at night, then?” he guessed.

“Yeah. During the day, the whole place just looks like another part of the swamp. Part of the disguise. At night though,” Sahsi flicked her fingers, “it transforms back into the Kingdom. It’s going to be dangerous.”

“Are you trying to back out of our deal, hexblood?”

Sahsi could feel Wick behind her, the heat coming off his body nearly unbearable. She shook her head before turning towards the fire genasi. “Of course not. I need to make it clear though- my mother is a dangerous woman. Hags are a very prideful bunch. They’re always backbiting and trying to get the better of each other. So the fact that one has actually claimed the title of ruler, and it’s so far gone unchallenged? That’s a lot. It’s not just down to strict power either, she’s smart and manipulative. She will always try to get the upper hand on situations. And she wants me to break my eldercross and turn into one of her kind. I’m taking a big risk by taking you in there.”

Wick sneered. “Either she helps me find Silver Matilda, or I will finish what I started at the church,” he growled.

Crowley cleared his throat. “As much as I enjoy the murderous tension between you two, what do we need to expect? How many hags are in your mother’s kingdom, Sahsi?” he asked.

Sahsi twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “I’ve only been there once. And it’s been a few years… I’m going to say expect over a dozen. And of all varieties. Green, Dusk, Annis, her best friend is a Sea Hag- it’s why they live so close to a body of salt water, for her- and of course, whoever works for hags. Ogres, various goblinoids including hobgoblins and bugbears, giants, orcs, and I’m not even going to go into how many undead they’ll have ambling around. Each of those hags are cruel, they’re crafty, and the moment we take a step past the gate, they’ll know we’re there. Whatever you do, do not tip her off to the fact you’re blackmailing me into helping you.”

“Wouldn’t that be good for you, if she knew?” Wick commented snidely.

“No. Because she’ll kill all of you, put your heads on stakes, and then proceed to transform me into a Green Hag- whether I want to be or not.” Sahsi turned and narrowed her eyes at Wick. “And I would rather be dead than become like her.”

Wick frowned, but thankfully he didn’t push it further. Crowley clapped his hands together.

“Right. Let’s get going.”

Sahsi led the party into the swamp lands as the sun glared down at them. The jolly mood had been replaced with quiet awareness from everyone. Kendrenal and Turgut weren’t even going at it for once, Turgut gripping onto his crossbow and Kendrenal resting his hand on his hand cannon where it hung from his belt.

Sahsi kept scanning the area until she saw what she needed to- a tree that mirrored the one across from it perfectly. Too perfectly. “We’re here,” she said, coming to a stop.

Thunderwarrior paused as she scanned the area. “I don’t see anything,” she said.

“Few more seconds…” Sahsi glanced towards the setting sun. “… and, now.”

The area shimmered as mist slowly curled up from the ground. Everyone pulled their weapons, but Sahsi remained still as the shimmer faded.

The two mirroring trees had become a gate, guarded by two ugly as sin ogres. The one on the right lifted up his spear. “What business do you have in the kingdom of the hags?” he boomed.

Sahsi cleared her throat before stepping forward, tucking her hair back to fully show off the horns that sprouted from the back of her skull and formed a ‘crown’ around her head. “I’m Sahsi Humble. I am the daughter of Marfire ‘Mars’ Humble and Ancient Genevieve. I request an audience with my mother, and send someone ahead so she knows I’m not here to transform into a hag. If I go in there and there’s a cauldron all ready for my bath, I’ll strangle both of you,” she said.

The ogres practically jumped out of their skin. They both went to run in, only to slam into each other and nearly knock themselves out. Wick quietly snickered and mumbled something to Elphira that had her quietly laughing as well.

After a brief spat the ogre on the left ran ahead, nearly trampling a small troupe of goblins heading out for patrols, shouting to ‘make way! Make way!’ Sahsi nodded at the remaining ogre before she stepped into the kingdom.

Now the mist parted to reveal a village among the swamp trees. Shacks were slapped together, the simple huts with chimneys that coughed out black smoke. All the monsters that Sahsi had mentioned previously were getting their day going, along with even more. And of course, there were hags. Hags everywhere.

Crowley swallowed before he leaned in towards Sahsi. “Sahsi, I believe you said there were a dozen hags. I’m counting about fifteen already,” he said quietly.

“… Looks like mom’s expanded a bit since I’ve been here last. Just keep calm,” Sahsi whispered back.

“I never let anyone think otherwise. I have a reputation.”

Sahsi hummed before turning to face forward. She could feel a hundred eyes on her, maybe more. Even the ravens in the trees watched as they passed by. The further they went into the ‘kingdom’, the more ghastly the monsters looked… and how many of them weren’t even monsters.

Wick visibly balked as they passed a wind genasi teetering near his hut, his glazed over eyes blankly watching them pass by before he took another swig from his canteen. Likely whatever was inside wasn’t water. “What is this gods forsaken place?” Wick asked in a hush tone.

“This is where people go when they believe they have been forsaken by the gods, and they have to make deals with the hags.” Sahsi looked at another poor soul, a minotaur that was so emaciated she was practically skin and bones. “If one’s out of options, a hag seems like a great fallback. They’re good at marketing like that. Of course, they’ll find a way to turn the tides on you. Odds are some of these people weren’t so bad. But once a hag’s got her claws in you, you’ll do things you’ve never even considered before.”

Wick swallowed, his face going several shades paler as he watched a drow drag himself over to the firepit, both of his legs below the knee gone.

The castle was really a carved out dead tree that stretched to the skies, its branches resembling claws that clawed at the clouds. The ogre that had ran ahead was stumbling out now, gasping for breath. “Go… go ahead, Miss Humble,” he said before he half bowed over.

Sahsi nodded before she walked inside.

The entrance was soggy and wet, and Sahsi ignored that part of her that felt at home. A loud screeching laugh interrupted her reverie and she groaned. “Lucy, leave me alone,” she said.

“Awww, you got new friends!”

The Green Hag floated down from above, slowing her descent with a parasol. Once her boots landed on the ground, she closed it and swung it over her shoulder. Where Anne had gone to great extents to make herself generically attractive by human standards, Lucy had gone the other way- her silver streaked black hair stuck out every which way like she’d been struck by lightning, and her skin was definitely more on the green side. Her haggish features had been toned down, but she still looked more than a little odd. “Who are all these… things?” Lucy gestured to Crowley and the others. “They look positively delicious!”

“Lucy, stop it.” Sahsi crossed her arms. “I’m not here to take the hag bath. I’m just here to talk to mom to find someone.”

Lucy pursed her lips. “And you think she’ll really help you without something in return? Oh, you’re still so naive!” she cooed at Sahsi, patting the top of her head like she was a dog. “I remember when you first showed up here, blubbering and sad- oh, you guys should’ve seen her when she was fifteen! She was a bit chubbier, but-”

“Lucy! Shut up!”

“Her eye had just turned red.” Lucy tapped by her own left eye. “And she was soooo cute! Really, I could just eat her up!”

Sahsi groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose as Lucy shrieked with laughter. “We’re going to see Mom now. Leave us alone, please.”

“Sure, sure, I’ll be here when you’re done! I wonder which one will end up being one of mom’s new toys.” Lucy winked at Wick, who shuddered in revulsion. “Ten gold says it’s cinders over here!”

Sahsi rolled her eyes but shoved past the eccentric hag to enter the throne room.

The throne room was just as horrible as the rest of this place. Skeletons of various species were posed along the ragged green carpet that ran up to the throne, which was also made of various bones.

And there sat Ancient Genevieve, Queen of the Hags. There was some odd human noble serving as a footstool, her feet propped up on his back while he continued to stupidly smile.

Genevieve sat up as Sahsi approached the throne, a soft smile crossing her face. “Well, well, well. The runaway daughter finally comes home,” she said.

Sahsi took a deep breath, trying not to gag on the mildew smell that hung heavy on the air.

“Hello, Mother. I’m here on behalf of-”

“Crowley the Oathbreaker, Wick’Of’Candle, Kendrenal Weaklone, Turgut Tuun, Tynos Littlehooves, Nalthea Thunderwarrior Ganu-Mekali, and Elphira Only. I know.”

Genevieve kicked the noble away and he remained limp on the ground as the green hag got to her feet. “I know already. I know all about them. Even if you rejected me, I couldn’t let you be out in the world defenseless,” she explained as she walked around the group.

Sahsi stiffened. “… All about them?” she repeated.

“Of course. I know that Kendrenal was left to die out in the cold because he’s so pathetically weak.”

Kendrenal balked.

“I know that Turgut was such an embarrassment to his regiment they practically begged the Oathbreaker to take him off their hands.”

Turgut sputtered angrily.

“Speaking of the Oathbreaker, I know he’s as loyal as a snake and hungry for wealth.”

Crowley didn’t overly react to his credit, although he did shift his weight in what some might discern as discomfort.

“That Tynos has no spine, so he lets himself be used for what he believes are evil plans, all for the approval of those he owes his life to.”

Tynos stared at the ground, nervously tapping his golden hoof.

“I know Thunderwarrior was abandoned by her clan when she needed them most and would have been permanently blinded had some upstart named Calipher hadn’t saved her, and what kind of Goliath needs someone to save them?”

Thunderwarrior clenched her fists and glowered at the hag queen.

“That Elphira is the bastard of a human woman and a drow man that never claimed her.”

Elphira bared her teeth.

“Oh, and who can forget Wick?”

Genevieve came to a stop in front of the genasi, who was shaking in rage.

“The minstrel who let himself be tricked, and tricked, and tricked again… and look out, he’s being tricked now… because he really thinks that he could get away with threatening to take away what was mine, and that I’m really Genevieve.”

It all happened in a second. Genevieve’s appearance crumbled like sand, and the Annis hag that stood there now grabbed Wick by the throat and hauled him off the ground.

Shit.

“Marianne! Put him down!” Sahsi shouted.

The Annis hag looked down at Sahsi and grinned.

“Why? He’s already precooked! I won’t even need to throw him into the cauldron!”

Wick gagged as he desperately clawed at Marianne’s arm, his fingers shooting off flames but not enough to cause any harm to the Annis hag. Crowley drew his mace but before he could attack, the throne room doors banged open. A sea hag covered in weeds stamped in, while Lucy and Anne backed her up.

The sea hag screeched and Crowley went pale. He didn’t want to be afraid, but he couldn’t help it- sea hags were terror incarnate. Turgut was less graceful about it, he screamed bloody murder before he bolted to the far corner of the room, where he was immediately set upon by a pack of mangy looking canines. Kendrenal fired his cannon at the hounds and for his trouble was attacked by one who dodged the bullets.

Thunderwarrior threw her head back and roared before charging at the sea hag. Lucy and Anne clapped and all three rose into the air, floating above the angered Goliath. Lucy pulled a face and Thunderwarrior responded by throwing her club at her. This did knock Lucy down, but the club skidded away and was scooped up by the sea hag.

Elphira and Tynos went back to back as more of the mangy hounds circled them. Elphira summoned a glowing dagger before throwing it into one of their skulls. The creature dropped but another one took its place, followed by its trainer- a very angry hobgoblin who threw a dagger back at Elphira. She ducked, taking Tynos down with her, but this put them down low right where the dogs could pounce.

Sahsi glanced around wildly, this situation going far more poorly than she’d intended.

“STOP! MOM! ENOUGH! GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!”

Genevieve’s laughter echoed off the walls before the real hag queen appeared, back to sitting on her throne. “Patty, put the Goliath to sleep- I think Sahsi’s ready to talk, and call off your puppies, Gragoran,” she said.

The sea hag nodded before waving her hand. Thunderwarrior twitched a few times before she fell down, snoring loudly. Gragoran whistled and the mangy hounds took off back to the shadows, leaving a frantic Turgut attempting to climb the walls to get the fuck out of here.

The only one who didn’t hold back was Marianne, who was still strangling the helpless Wick.

“Marianne, I mean it! Put him down!” Sahsi snapped.

Marianne only grinned and Sahsi saw her hands flex as she squeezed Wick’s neck tighter. The genasi’s face had gone purple, his lips completely gray and his eyes losing their brightness.

Something in Sahsi snapped.

“I SAID PUT! HIM! DOWN!”

Her dark curls fluttered for a moment before her hair grew, and grew, and grew, until it was long enough to reach the Annis hag. The locks of hair wrapped tightly around Marianne and yanked her off her feet. Marianne shouted and slammed into the ground, finally letting go of Wick. The fire genasi gasped, crawling away desperately from Marianne before collapsing to the floor.

“Well, well, well. Little Sahsi, you’ve really grown. You told me you’d never use violence, and here you are now!” Genevieve leaned forward. “Using that hair grow spell I taught you how to control, and you even have a crossbow. I imagine you can enchant the arrows, if you really applied to it.”

“If I ever enchant an arrow, it’ll be to put it right through your heart,” Sahsi snapped. “What was that all about!?”

“Just to let your little kidnappers know,” Genevieve gestured to the party, all sorts of disorganized and frightened, “that I know their game. And that helping anyone that hurt you is something I’ll never do.”

Sahsi swallowed before looking back at Wick. The fire genasi was a mess, his neck already turning dark purple with bruises. The tears in his eyes were close to overflowing, but Wick was somehow holding them back. “… This isn’t for me. It’s not even for them,” she said before turning back around. “It’s for the fire genasi that a hag by the name of Silver Matilda mutilated and drove to suicide. His name was Wax, and he didn’t do anything wrong. At least you let people make the rope they’ll use to hang themselves.”

“Most of the time, yes.” Genevieve examined her claws. “But sometimes it’s quicker just to get it done. Do you really care about a man you never even met that took the coward’s way out?”

Wick coughed, clearly he wanted to say something but he couldn’t get the words out with his banged up throat. Sahsi took a deep breath before she headed back to where he was. He’d managed to work himself up to his hands and knees but he was still a wreck.

Sahsi took a potion out of her bag and smiled at the weakened Wick. “Here. Drink it slow so you don’t choke. I brewed this one with chamomile too, so it’ll feel good on your throat,” she said softly as she pressed the potion up to his lips.

Wick glanced up with incredulous eyes but he drunk. The bruising on his neck slowly faded and he no longer wheezed when he breathed.

“There.”

Sahsi helped Wick up to his feet before glowering at her mother.

“If I’m willing to help someone that threatened to kill me- all because of what you made me be- I will go even farther for someone I don’t know.”

Genevieve clenched her jaw, drumming her fingers on the arm of her throne as she considered this.

“… Silver Matilda, you say?”

Genevieve smirked.

“This might work out for both of us.”

Genevieve flickered her wrist and an image appeared before the group of a terrifying woman with blue-black skin and horns.

“This the hag you want?”

Sahsi looked at Wick, and the look of pure hatred on his face told it all.

“I figured as much.”

Genevieve waved her hand and the image vanished.

“You’ll find her north. She’s paired up with two bheur hags, have fun with that, and she’s likely plotting on stealing more body parts to play with.”

Sahsi frowned. “Wait- you’re just telling us where she is? What’s the catch, mom? I’m not stupid,” she said.

“The catch is I happen to hate her.”

Genevieve gestured to the still noble on the ground, who hadn’t budged an inch since he’d been kicked away. The noble practically pranced over to serve as Genevieve’s foot stool again. “She thinks I’m a false queen. That I didn’t earn my position.” Genevieve spread her arms out. “When in reality, I have scratched tooth and nail to get where I am today. I didn’t get handed a thing. I earned my kingdom. She’s yet to be a real problem, but she will be one sooner or later. You’re just taking out the garbage for me, adventurers, if you get rid of Matilda.”

Genevieve whistled and a black raven flew down and landed on Crowley’s shoulder, the aasimar flinching before he realized the bird was just relaxing there.

“That bird will take you to her. He’ll come back when you tell him to return to the queen.”

Sahsi glanced around the party, which save for the still sleeping Thunderwarrior and the cowering Turgut that was being soothed by Kendrenal, looked quite all right with this arrangement. Sahsi nodded and faced forward again. “I’ll send her head with him too,” she said.

“I’m so proud of you.”

Sahsi visibly flinched as Genevieve looked at her with what appeared to be genuine affection. After shuddering a few times, Sahsi turned around. “Let’s go,” she mumbled, walking as fast as she could without breaking into a full run to get the hell out of here. Kendrenal and Crowley managed to drag Thunderwarrior along with them, and they didn’t stop until they were out of the village.

Finally. Out. Sahsi fell to her knees, unable to stop herself from shaking any longer. She buried her face in her hands as she tried to level her breathing.

I hate her. I hate her. I hate her. She’s lying. She’s not proud of me. She’s trying to manipulate me again. I hate her. I hate her. I HATE HER.

A warmer than average hand rested on Sahsi’s shoulder and she looked up to see Wick.

“… Thank you, Sahsi.”

Sahsi blinked owlishly a few times before she realized that Wick wasn’t putting on a face, as bards are known to do. His flickering eyes dripped tears that quickly hissed away into steam, but he looked down at Sahsi with genuine warmth and kindness.

Sahsi sniffled before she pushed herself up.

“Let’s… let’s just make camp for tonight. Tomorrow we can start heading for Matilda.”

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[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- The Underdark

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The Underdark was nothing like Odra thought. For one thing, it wasn’t as dark as people thought it was, with phosphorous green rocks serving as torches. It cast some very interesting shadows on everyone’s faces.

“You used to live down here?” Odra asked.

“I mean, not in the tunnels- you’ve never been to the Underdark, have you?”

Odra shook her head no.

“You’re gonna love it.”

And the moment the tunnel opened up to the city of Isath Dorei, Odra knew that Garl was right.

Right past the gates that were just carved out of the cave itself, they entered a marketplace. Lavender, blue, and yellow light motes that resembled fireflies danced around the air. Odra tried to catch one but her fingers just went right through it. Stalls sold all sorts of things, spices, silks, and jewelry made of the shiniest gems. Most everyone around was drow, with a few hobgoblins and beastfolk that resembled rats or black cats. If they were merchants or business owners, they were women. If they were runners or hard laborers, they were men.

Odra frowned as something occurred to her. “You knew I’d like it because there’s a bunch of in charge hot ladies,” she accused Garl.

Garl smirked but didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

The leader of the drow shooed her comrades away before she turned to the adventuring party. She pushed her goggles up to her forehead, revealing her rose pink eyes. “Right. So your human told us what we needed to know.” She nodded at the gargoyle on the cart. “Normally this wouldn’t be a hard task, but we have to go see Queen Rillana first, for reasons that’ll be clear once we speak with her. I am Lydia, my house is right there. You may leave your dead comrade there,” she said.

Garl twisted his mouth. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to stay with him,” he said.

“Of course. You can’t bring him into the throne room though. If the floors gets scratched, we’ll be hearing about it for months.”

Garl looked grumpy but he nodded. Lydia nodded before she turned back forward. “Let’s keep going then.”

The city itself was beautiful. Buildings were seamlessly carved out of the ground, and the palace itself looked like it was made of a thousand stalagmites, reaching to the ceiling of the underdark cavern. The guards were all women as well, each nodding at Lydia and tipping their heads at her.

“You important or something?” Odra asked.

“I’m one of the most respected sorceresses of the Underdark, yes,” Lydia said.

Damn. Odra brushed off her cloak and tried to seem casual as she said, “That’s cool, cool, coooool… are you single or…”

Garl snorted as Lydia turned her face to avoid letting Odra see her smile. “I appreciate your confidence. But I am not single, and although my wife is polyamorous, I am not. I must say, I’ve only met a few goblins who speak Common, and you speak it very well. I’m impressed,” Lydia said.

“I’m talented. Soooo, who’s your wife? Think she’d be into short ladies?”

Lydia quietly giggled but said nothing as they entered the throne room. Garl parked the cart next to the door, patting the still gargoyle on the shoulder before he followed after her with the rest of the party.

Lydia gestured forward to the throne, made of obsidian and bone. “Ladies and your men, Queen Rillana, Ruler of the Northern Underdark.”

The queen sat tall, her ivory hair ornately braided around her moonstone circlet. Odra nearly tripped over her feet when she saw the queen had a third eye tattooed onto her forehead that seemed to look around with her actual ones.

Dullahan nudged Odra. “You have to talk, she’s not gonna listen to me or Garl, and Sylvia gets anxiety just talking to the bartender at the guild,” he whispered.

“What?!” Odra looked up at Dullahan like he was crazy. “I’m a goblin! Who listens to goblins!?”

“You’re a female goblin. The matriarchy is total bullshit, I know, but you’re the best one to go with. Lydia just listened to me because I said I was your go between, so start being charming.”

Greeaat. Odra gritted her teeth but chose to hold her head high as she nudged her way to the front of the group. Queen Rillana had five men kneeling around her throne, three of her fellow drow but a gnome and a gray skinned dwarf were amongst the number as well.

The Queen eyed the group, barely passing her eyes over the men before she focused on Lydia. A small smile played on her lips. “Lydia, good to see you back safe,” she said softly, gesturing her forward.

Lydia practically skipped up the steps to the throne before she knelt to the ground. “My queen,” she gestured to the party, “we found these adventurers not too far from one of the hidden entrances. They appear to be skilled warriors, and they were dealing with the problem we’ve been struggling with over these last few months.”

“The undead?” Queen Rillana guessed.

“Yes, your majesty.”

The Queen glanced among the group, narrowing her eyes at Garl. “Some of them seem to not know their place,” she said in a clipped tone.

Garl glanced to see Dullahan already kneeling. Ignoring that immediate urge to whack the human on the head, he just hesitantly knelt down on the ground. “My apologies, your majesty. I don’t find myself in royal courts often,” he grumbled.

The queen smirked as she leaned forward. “Mouthy. But the mouthy ones are more fun to tame,” she noted aloud.

Odra finally found her voice. “Your majesty!” She yelped, immediately regretting how high pitched her voice went. “Q-Queen Rillana?”

“Hmmm?” The queen’s gaze shifted towards Odra. “So, the goblin’s the speaker of the party? How interesting. Are you a woman? I can never tell with your kind.”

“I guess? I mean, yeah.” Odra swallowed, feeling her heart race in her chest. “Listen, it’s great that we get to talk and all, but why did Lydia bring us here? We just need to take this gargoyle body back to where he died, respect for the dead and all that.”

Queen Rillana gave her that same gentle smile that she’d given Lydia and Odra felt her knees turn to jelly. “Brave. I rather like goblins, you know. It’s a pity I’ve never found a male one suitable for a harem… too… smelly.” The queen shuddered at the thought. “Lydia brings you and your party forward for a request. If you are going through our kingdom, I can tell you where the nearest nest of gargoyles are- which I presume is your destination?”

Odra perked up. “Really?”

“Yes, but unfortunately for everyone involved, there’s the matter of getting there.”

The queen tapped her fingers on the arm of her throne as she frowned. “How many undead were up there?” she asked.

“Um, I lost count, but there was a zombie ogre and like a dozen zombie humanoids?” Odra scratched the back of her head. “Is that what you’re talking about?”

“Indeed. We have a necromancy problem.” The queen gestured out. “You see, I’ve had a bit of conflict with my twin sister. I was born first so the throne is rightfully mine, but I only beat her to it by a few moments. This has caused a bit of strife, and now she’s taking it out on me by hiding outside the city and raising the dead. It wouldn’t be a problem… except we can’t find what hole she’s hiding in, so she keeps sending hoards out. It’s affecting our trade and our livelihoods. The main attacks happen on the path that you’d take to the nest.”

Garl shifted. “I know I’m speaking out of turn, but how are the gargoyles?” he asked.

“I’d love to put a gag in that mouth,” Queen Rillana shook a finger at Garl and for once, Odra saw her friend was completely speechless. “But the question is a fair one to ask. From what we can tell, they are perfectly fine. They’re able to repel the undead, and my sister has no quarrel with them, so they’re safe from her powerful magics. However, until my sister is arrested and brought back here, she will continue to blockade the city with her guerrilla warfare. So, adventurers- how would you like to handle a bounty?”

Odra grinned. “I think I speak for all of us when we say- we’re one hundred percent in. You got any hints to make the search easier to find your sis?” she asked.

Queen Rillana laughed quietly. “I love your enthusiasm. It’s exactly what I need. I can give you a map of the area, her most likely hiding places, but I only ask you bring her back alive- she’s a nasty woman, but she is still my sister. In return, not only will I send an escort to take you to the gargoyle nest, but I’ll give you all a personal reward. Now, go and rest. I’ll have the servants prepare quarters for each of you.”

Yes! Odra fistpumped and turned to the gang. “Let’s get ready to smash some ghouls’ heads in, guys!” she whooped before remembering that she was in the presence of royalty. She sheepishly turned around, expecting to be scolded…. only to see the queen was now distracted by Lydia now sitting in her lap, the two nuzzling noses and giggling like lovebirds.

Queen Rillana noticed Odra gaping and quickly composed herself. “Yes, um, smash those ghouls. You may leave now,” she shooed them out.

Odra bit the inside of her cheek but she bowed before leaving the court with a surprising lack of sass.

Garl allowed himself be led to one of the quarters set up for him. It was a lovely room, a plenty large bed, a private bathroom with running water (thank whatever artificer came up with that), and even a light outside the glass windows that seemed to resemble the moon. Overall, it wasn’t bad.

But Garl wasn’t alone.

“All right, come out, right now.”

A soft laugh echoed off the walls of the room and the queen appeared out of nowhere, a smirk on her face. “What gave me away?”

“Just a hunch with how you were looking me over in the throne room.” Garl crossed his arms. “I’m not gonna sit pretty and be one of your little boy toys, your majesty. No offense.”

“None taken. I would never attempt to permanently restrain a creature as yourself.” Rillana crossed the room, fearlessly looking the gargoyle right in the eye. “Those wings might not carry you far, but they still need to beat free in the skies above the dark I call home. That, and I think if I separate you from your little friend, I will have quite the riot on my hands.”

“Just because she’ll be jealous of me.”

Rillana laughed again before resting her hand on Garl’s bicep. “I have no doubt. But, and I’ll be straightforward, have you wondered what it would be like? To be… restrained, for the night?” Her fingers slid over to his chest. “Bow to the knee, serve a queen?”

Garl lost the ability to speak momentarily as the drow drummed her fingers lightly. “Um… are you making a pass at me?” he asked.

“Obviously. You’re cute.”

Rillana flicked his nose before she backed up. “Consider it your special gift, if you’d like. A night with me.”

“… And your boy toys and wife won’t mind?”

“On the contrary,” Rillana grinned before she slowly faded from sight. “If my hunch is correct, I’ll be entertaining all of them with stories of what happens for days afterwards.”

The door briefly opened and shut and Garl was left standing there, presumably alone. And very obnoxiously turned on.

A bit direct, but who said that was a bad thing? And nailing a drow queen would be a new experience, to say the least.

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[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- Quick March

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“All right, company! We have a long distance to go today, and I won’t have any complaints. No sirree, we must reach the Lower Willow Bow, and we will march as long as it takes! Even it takes longer than the day, we will go forth with our heads held high and weapons at the ready! Right, company, forward- march!”

Oh gods, this was going to be a long day. Sahsi groaned and almost fell into marching stance (or what she supposed marching stance was, she really didn’t know) when she realized that literally no one else in the party was falling in position and were just, well… walking. Like a normal party. No one was giving Turgut the time of day, despite all his grumbling about how marching was more efficient use of energy and pacing.

Elphira leaned in close and murmured into Sahsi’s ear, “Just ignore him. We’re take a break for lunch and we’ll stop once it gets too dark to see.”

“Oh.” Thank the gods. “I can see in almost no light though, so…”

“I mean, I do too. Tynos can’t though, and I think Turgut’s a little nearsighted. Explains why he’s shit with a crossbow,” Elphira patted Sahsi’s shoulder, “just let him prattle on. He’ll make for good meat for the grinder if shit goes sideways.”

Ah. Right. This wasn’t like the other parties Sahsi had been temporarily recruited into, where everyone was a team. Crowley’s peers were just as likely to throw her to the wolves as they were likely to save her. And at least one of them would gladly throw her an anchor rather than a rope if she was drowning.

Wick was up front, talking with Crowley as if they didn’t have a hostage leading the charge into the kingdom of the hags. It was going to be fine, Sahsi told herself as she stuck in the middle of the group. As long as she held up her end of the bargain, Wick would let her go. At least she hoped he would.

“You’ll get to go home.”

It was like Elphira read her mind. The half drow didn’t look sympathetic or anything, just matter of fact. “We’re all pretty cut throat around here, it’s how you make it around people like Crowley. However, Nalthea, you call her Thunderwarrior- she’s pretty serious about deals and contracts. It’s part of her code, you say you’ll do something, well you better do it. She was there when Wick promised your freedom in exchange for the death of Matilda. If he tries to go back on it-” Elphira drew a line across her throat.

Sahsi nodded, reaching up to touch her throat. “And I’ll hold my part of the deal. Even if he tried to kill me…” she glanced back up to Wick. “He’s doing it because he’s hurt. What happened to him was wrong, and I’ll help make that right.”

Elphira snorted before she started giggling. “Oh- oh my gods, you’re doing it because it’s ‘right’? Even though he was about to gut you like a sacrificial lamb?” She patted Sahsi on the head. “You’re so stupid, it’s cute.”

Sahsi scowled, balling up her fists to prevent herself from swatting Elphira’s condescending hand away. “Just because I try to do the right thing doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” she said coldly.

“Ooooh, it’s not a bad kind of stupid. It’s the ‘you know nothing’ kind of stupid,” Elphira leaned down to look Sahsi in the eyes. “It’s the naive kind of stupid where you really think that ‘good’ and ‘bad’ means something in the long run. You can keep that delusion, it’s nice that there’s still some people who thinks it matters.”

“It does though,” Sahsi insisted.

Elphira chuckled again before she picked up the pace to catch up to the goliath, who perked up upon noticing Elphira and immediately struck up an animated conversation.

Crowley really surrounded himself with a coldblooded pack, hadn’t he? Sahsi glanced among the group, between the two bickering hobgoblins, the oathbreaking aasimar and his revenge obsessed genasi, the upbeat but apparently brutal goliath and the jaded half elf… Sahsi was really alone here.

Her foot caught on a branch and she yelped as she fell to the ground, bouncing her face off the ground once or twice before she even realized what had happened.

Ow.

“Hey, you okay?”

Sahsi peeled her face off the dirt path to look up at Tynos. The final party member, the satyr. His strange eyes looked at Sahsi with genuine concern as he offered her one of his hands. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” he asked.

Sahsi took the offered hand and pulled herself up. “I’m okay, I’m okay. Thank you. I didn’t spot you for a bit, did you wander off?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Tynos grinned sheepishly before lifting up a basket. “We passed a bush full of blueberries, so I figured I’d fall back to pick them and catch up in a bit! I’m pretty fast, so I had the time! You want some?”

Well. Perhaps not all of the party were cold. Sahsi smiled before taking a few berries. “I’d love some, thank you,” she said before popping the handful in her mouth. They immediately burst in her mouth, nice and juicy. “Oh! These are so good!”

“Good to know! I’ll probably add them to dinner, you think some blueberry pancakes will be good?” Tynos practically did a little dance as he walked alongside Sahsi. “Or I could reduce it to a sauce, pour it over some venison if Turgut manages to shoot a deer along the way. He’s a really good hunter, he could probably make a living off of it if he wanted.”

“Both of those sound delicious!” Sahsi nodded excitedly. “They make a good path snack at least for now.”

Tynos’ fluffy ears happily flipflopped and Sahsi was already feeling better. Then they tilted down as Tynos looked down at his feet.

“I… I want to apologize to you, actually.”

Sahsi frowned. “Why?” she asked.

“I mean, he would’ve gotten you any other way, but I didn’t have to help, I just…” Tynos sighed as he kicked an acorn, watching it bounce down the path before he continued. “I was the one who gave Wick the herbs to drug your beer. Wick had told me you were another hag in the making, and he’s… really convincing, I really believed you were like the others.”

Oh. Wow. Sahsi dimly remembered the satyr chatting with everyone at the tavern, but she’d not thought he’d really- wow. That kind of hurt a bit. “Others?” she asked, choosing to focus on that.

“He’s killed a lot of hags, and hexbloods too.But the hexbloods were usually paired with hags, you’re the first I’ve seen that wasn’t with a hag.” Tynos’ ears twitched again. “That… probably should’ve clued me in that you’re not a normal hexblood huh?”

“I mean,” Sahsi bit her lip, “I don’t think I could be the only hexblood out there that isn’t studying under their mother or teacher. Not every hexblood is even born, even- a lot of them are cursed, or the result of tangling with the wrong fae magic.”

“… Oh.”

Tynos turned away, raising a hand to hide his face. “I… I didn’t really know. I mean, the only hags and hexbloods I’ve met seemed mean. But you’re probably right, I don’t really like it when people assume things about me just because I’m a satyr, so… should I just shut up?”

“No, you can keep talking,” Sahsi said with a smile. “I have to say, you’re not really like everyone else here.”

“It’s kinda obvious, huh?” Tynos rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re probably right though. I’m a bit soft. But I owe Crowley and Wick, and I won’t leave them until that debt’s paid.”

Sahsi glanced down at Tynos’ golden hoof, trying to be subtle about it. Tynos caught it though and he nodded. “Yeah, everything to do with that. I can tell you-”

“You don’t have to!” Sahsi held up her hands. “If it’s too painful, anyway. I can understand painful memories.”

“It’s okay, it’ll hopefully help me make sense to you.” Tynos kicked his golden hoof up in the air. “It’s not really a big, complicated story anyway, I’m not like Wick. Everything was pretty normal for me at the temple I lived at, there was a lot of priests for Shepa, and being a satyr the people thought I had a better connection with him since he’s the god of shepherds. But then a bunch of orcs came tromping through our lands and chased us out. Most of the others got away, but… I didn’t. I was cornered, down a hoof, and they were threatening to turn me into mutton when out of nowhere,” Tynos snapped his fingers. “There they were! Wick lit one of their heads on fire and it got their attention off of me, long enough so I could escape. Turns out Crowley was out there to collect a bounty on the orc chieftain. I was hiding in the woods, I managed to heal myself enough so I wasn’t bleeding out anymore, and they caught up to me. I couldn’t thank them enough, so I offered to tag along to see if I could make it right. Soooo, here I am.”

Sahsi nodded slowly. “Did they help you get the new hoof too?” she asked.

“That was all Wick. He found someone who made fake feet and they found a way to make me a new one! It’s just as good as the old one, even if sometimes it feels like it hurts,” Tynos twisted his mouth, “it’s apparently a common thing if you lose a leg or an arm. It’ll feel like pins and needles, even if it’s not there anymore.”

“I’m glad that Wick could help you though,” Sahsi said.

“I am too! I like walking too much to give it up!”

The pair giggled until Turgut shouted, “Quiet in the ranks! More marching, less lip flapping! This is the most unprofessional- OW!”

Kendrenal’s wild giggles echoed off the trees. “Oopsiiiee! I was testing out one of my new inventions, I didn’t mean to shock you!” he said.

Sahsi and Tynos turned to see Turgut shaking his arm out while Kendrenal cradled a little metal knick knack between his hands. Turgut scowled at Kendrenal. “Mutiny! Insubordination! I’ll have your guts for garters!” he shouted before taking a swing at Kendrenal.

Kendrenal ‘eep’ed’ and ducked before running away, Turgut hot on his heels. “Don’t hurt Sir Frederick! He’ll be a loyal member of the party!”

“I’ll take that Sir Frederick and shove it right up your-”

“Languaaaage! He’s just a baby!”

“Give it here right now or you’ll spend the entire night polishing the entire unit’s weapons!”

“Don’t listen to it, Sir Frederick, it’s just loud and crass.”

“And again with the ‘it’! You have disrespected me for the last time!”

The pair of hobgoblins continued to run circles around the party that was currently losing their minds laughing. Even Crowley couldn’t hide a grin when Kendrenal managed to stick his leg out and trip Turgut, causing the older hobgoblin to fall into the bushes.

Of course, that would be when a pack of bandits would pop out of the trees, demanding their gold or their lives.

Sahsi learned very quickly despite their jovial natures the moment before, the second you tried taking anything from Crowley you might as well have your coffin ready.

This was going to be a long, long adventure.

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[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- Heatwaves and Zombies

Prev.

“Gaaaarlll… it’s fucking hot ooouuuut…”

Garl groaned softly but made no attempt to move from his place under the tree or to even open his eyes. Odra rolled across the ground and finally came to a stop in front of the gargoyle.

“How is it so hot? It’s not even midday yet. And I’m gonna burn to death.”

“It’s a heat wave, Odra,” Garl said, trying to be patient with the cranky child that was his companion. “We’re taking the day off from getting to the Underdark because of it, calm the fuck down and stop moving so much. Movement brings up your body heat. You’re not helping yourself.”

“Everything makes you hotter though!” Odra complained, throwing her arms up in the air. “Drinking booze makes you hotter, dancing makes you hotter, the only thing that cools you down is snow, ice, or a lake! And we have none of those!”

Garl sighed and pressed his hands to his temples. The heat was giving him a headache. “Odra. Are you naked?” he asked a question he already knew an answer to.

“Yeah, why?”

“Nevermind. Is that why Sylvia and Dullahan are nowhere to be heard?”

“Dullahan’s making an acid weapon out of his own stomach bile and… I don’t know where Sylvia is.” Odra scratched her ear. “What else did you expect me to do? It’s so hot out here a tiefling would be sweating his balls off. A fucking tiefling.”

“At least put something on your lower half. Not everyone’s used to seeing you run around in your birthday suit.” Garl was past the point of caring- he’d seen his little companion butt naked so many times he’d been pretty desensitized to it.

Odra whined before she rolled herself across the ground where her pile of clothes was. She did put her leggings back on, but even that was miserable. “I’m gonna die,” she declared before looking over at Garl and their special delivery. “So… how’s your friend?”

This finally got Garl to open his eyes. He looked over at the cart that was carrying the gargoyle’s body.

“He’s dead, Odra. Nothing’s changed from the last time you’ve asked, so why do you keep asking?”

“… It’s just weird.” Odra walked up to the cart, looking the statuesque creature up and down while being sure not to touch. “When everything else dies, it disappears. I mean, after swelling and bubbling and rotting, but it disappears.”

“That’s what makes us different from everything else.” Garl wiped the forming condensation off his face. “Ulgth. Even I’m sweating. How the fuck am I sweating?”

“The air’s super sticky. And you’re a fucking rock. You’re making me regret putting pants back on.” Odra flopped back on the ground and rolled back to Garl. “I’m glad I’ll disappear when I’m dead. I don’t like… just the idea of being here forever. It weirds me out.”

Garl hummed softly before he closed his eyes again. Odra wouldn’t understand. Goblins had such a blip of a lifespan. Even their elderly were barely fifty years before they croaked. Gargoyles were, in a quite literal sense, forever. Even when their souls were gone, they left behind their shells to forever watch over their ancestral dens.

This one would be returned back to its resting place soon.

“… Uh, Garl?”

“Yeah?”

“Something’s not right.”

Garl’s eyes popped open and he reached for his blade. “How not right?” he asked.

“Birds.” Odra’s ears twitched as she inched towards her rapier where it laid next to her discarded clothing. “They stopped singing.”

Good. Perfect.

“Odra, fall back to the grass if you have an opening. I have to stay with him.”

Odra didn’t question him, but she didn’t have much time to. She barely scooped up her rapier when the first zombie stumbled out of the woods.

Fuck.

“GARL!” Odra skittered backwards, keeping her rapier at the ready as the rotting creature hissed and spat at the goblin. “I need my daggers!”

“In the cart! Fall back! And plug your ears!”

Garl took a deep breath before he threw his head back and roared. He didn’t care to bring so much attention to himself, but he needed to get the others back here, and fast- more zombies were coming out of the undergrowth, and not all of them were human. That big one with the loosely hanging jaw was a fucking ogre.

Odra dived into the cart before emerging with her daggers, flipping them around in her fingers. “I hope they heard that!” she fired back before throwing herself into the fray.

Garl looked up at the undead ogre that was now shambling towards him.

“… Same.”

Garl charged forward with another ear shattering roar and swung his blade at the ogre. Thankfully the hit connected- zombies weren’t great at dodging. However, it didn’t seem to mind that its guts were now starting to drip down to its knees, and Garl grimaced as he saw it raise its morningstar.

Garl ducked under the blow, but the weapon instead crashed into a tree. The tree cracked down the middle and teetered for a second before it tipped to the side and fell… right towards Odra.

“ODRA! MOVE!”

The goblin dodge rolled out of the way of the tree, but unfortunately right into the path of another zombie’s whack. She yelped as it punched the back of her head, sending her sprawling on the ground.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck-

Garl couldn’t have been more thankful when a shadowy beast came crashing out of the trees and bodyslammed the ogre, getting its attention off of Garl. While the ogre turned to deal with the new threat, Garl bolted over to where Odra was getting her bearings.

“Odra! You all right?”

Odra hummed before stumbling to her feet, rubbing the back of her head. “You’ve hit me harder,” she joked before she slipped both of her daggers out of her belt. “Keep their attention. They’ll never see me coming, hehe!”

A bottle of a nasty yellowish liquid soared through the air and shattered in front of a few of the other undead. One made the mistake of stepping in it and immediately it started to melt. By the time it reached the other side of the puddle it was little more than arms, shoulders, and head.

“Well, this is a lot of dead bodies.”

Dullahan strode out of the trees and tossed another bottle of that vile looking concoction between his hands. Garl grimaced as he caught a whiff from the puddle. “That’s your vomit, isn’t it?”

“Garl, the things I know about how to weaponize hair would make you stay up at night.”

As if to demonstrate this, one of the zombies ambled closer to Dullahan, swiping at the madman. Dullahan took a step back and Garl watched as the hair rose on the human’s arms before it grew and shot out to stab the zombie through the head. The zombie twitched before it dropped to the ground, back to being dead.

“… Oh. Well, that’s actually new. Interesting.”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Garl snapped.

Dullahan shrugged before he sidestepped another zombie coming to eat his face. “Well, as much as I’d like to continue this experiment, it’d be appreciated if someone took care of that one…”

“MINE!”

Odra flung herself out of the bushes and onto the zombie’s back, stabbing both of her daggers into its skull. Blood and brain flew through the air as Odra cackled, obviously having completely forgotten about the heat of the day. Nothing made a rogue happier than pulling off multiple sneak attacks, which considering zombies had just about as much awareness as you’d expect, she was getting a lot of those.

The ogre zombie finally toppled over as the shadowy creature bit its head off. Sylvia walked out of the trees. “Oh gods, it smells,” she gagged, reaching up to cover her nose.

Garl dodged another zombie’s pitiful grab for him before he slashed the corpse down the spine. “Where did they even come from?” he said.

“Who the fuck knows, and who the fuck cares- GAH! GET OFF!”

Sylvia shoved a zombie back but not before its rotting fingers tore open her cheek. She hissed in pain as she covered the bloody wound. Without another word, she just barked an order at her summon while lifting her crossbow up to fire.

The bolt stunned it for a second, enough for the summon to get its claws into it. Sylvia spat out any of the blood that dripped into her mouth before easing back into the shadows, her eyes positively glowing with rage.

How were there still more of these sons of bitches out here-

Garl felt something in the air change and he knew to hit the ground before the lighting hit.

The drow mages dropped from the shadows as the zombies twitched and writhed. Now everything smelt like Dullahan’s shitty acid potions, rotting flesh, and burning flesh.

At least once they stopped twitching they were all dead. One of the drow, likely the one in charge, took off her helmet to reveal a nifty pair of goggles that likely shielded her eyes from the daylight. She snapped something in Elvish, her lip curling at the sight of the party.

Garl shook the blood off his blade as he glowered at the sorceress. “Speak Common, for the love of-”

Dullahan cleared his throat and raised his hand to cut Garl off. Then he responded in perfect Elvish to the drow sorceress, dropping to one knee and bowing his head.

This clearly got the right impression from her, as a smile crossed her lips and she patted the human on the head. They had a brief conversation before Dullahan was allowed to rise.

“We’re good. She knows a shortcut into the Underdark, she just thought we might have something to do with the zombies that have been apparently harassing their entrances. We can bring the dead guy too.”

Garl took a deep breath, counted to ten, and said, “I hate him. I really do.”

Sylvia snorted as she pressed a handkerchief against her scratched cheek. “Join the club,” she grumbled before she followed after him.

“You okay, Garl?”

Odra dropped down on Garl’s shoulders and Garl managed a smile before he grabbed the cart and pulled it as they joined the others. “Just fine. How’s your head?”

“I got a thick skull, I shook it off. And Dullahan gave me a potion that I’m pretty sure had a few of his fingernails floating around in it judging by the texture. Very. Sharp. And metallic.”

That was something about that that made Garl shudder. “I hope he lets Sahsi give him manicures sometimes. That’s fucking disgusting.” Dirty fingernails. No thank you.

Funny, he’d wanted to actually bring the hexblood with them, but she wasn’t in her room when he went to recruit her. Pity. He’d prefer her sissy healing potions that smelled like rose petals over whatever gods forsaken crap Dullahan pulled off or out of himself to make his concoctions.

They would’ve missed this entrance to the Underdark if they hadn’t had a drow guard. The leader woman murmured some secret words at a stone and it just rolled out of the way, revealing a dark tunnel that seemed to go on forever. At the sight of it, Odra sighed with relief.

“At least it’ll be cooler down there!”

Next

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #creative writing #fantasy comedy #fantasy stories #short fantasy stories #dnd homebrew #goblins #short stories #spilled ink #the adventures of garl and odra manyboots

[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- Wick and Wax’of’Candle

Prev.

The herb garden was coming along beautifully this season. Sahsi hummed softly to herself as she plucked mint, tucking them all into her bag. They’d need to be dried, of course, but once that was the case it’d be a nice tea. Oh, and who could forget the rose petals? They were a good ingredient in healing potions.

“Well, hello there… you’re Miss Sahsi, aren’t you?”

Sahsi looked up in surprise to see a fire genasi standing beside the garden. “Um, yes, hello!” Sahsi got to her feet and brushed off her skirt. “Sahsi Humble, that’s me. What can I help you with?”

“Let me introduce myself.” The genasi bowed. “I am Wick’of’Candle. Wick, for you. I couldn’t help but notice your eldercross.”

“Oh!” Sahsi blushed as she reached up to touch the horn like protrusions that came from the back of her head. “Yeah, it’s a… family thing.”

“Is it now? I understand family things. Oh, you’re picking herbs, I’m sorry if I intruded. Or would you like my help?” Before Sahsi could answer, Wick knelt on the ground and started going through the herbs. “I don’t spend much time in the dirt. Anything else we need to pick, my dear?”

Sahsi knelt down next to Wick. “Well, I could use some more lavender. You’re new to the guild, right? Working with Crowley?” she asked.

“That’s correct. He’s a decent party member. Big head, but you know. He’s earned it. Oh, lavender is such a pretty flower.” Wick plucked the herb, rolling the flower between his fingers. “So small and delicate, but such a powerful fragrance. What hex or potion will you be brewing with this, I wonder?”

Sahsi took the flower and added it to her bag. “Well, after drying, it makes a good sleepy time tea. Or a sleeping potion, for insomnia-”

“Or a good battlefield weapon?” Wick pointed out. “A sleeping enemy is a defenseless one.”

“I mean, that’s not really my thing, that’s more Dullahan’s style.” Sahsi twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “I’m more of a support role. I heal the other party members. If I really need to, I can use my crossbow, but my aim is horrible. I can barely hit the broad side of a barn.”

“You have claws.” It was a statement, not a question. “They’re quite sharp, aren’t they?”

Sahsi swallowed as she looked at her fingertips, currently painted pale purple to match the cloudy weather they’d been having. “Well… yes, but like I said, I prefer not to use violence.”

“Hmmm. You’ll make a terrible hag then, if you won’t use everything at your disposal.”

Sahsi’s heart skipped a beat before looking back up at Wick. The genasi was hardly bothered by this statement, simply picking more lavender blossoms and setting them down in a pile while he continued chatting. “I mean, that’s what happens next for you, isn’t it? Hexblood females turn into hags.”

“… Not many people know the right word for it.” Sahsi swallowed the lump in her throat. “For, well, me, anyway. I’ve heard a lot of different words, hagblood, changeling child… but hexblood, you must have personal experience with a hag.”

“Incredibly personal. Would you like me to pick some sage too?”

“Sure…” Sahsi took a deep breath to steady herself. These questions were just questions. No reason to read too deeply into them. “But I don’t intend on being a hag, you know. That’s not a requirement. I can find my own path as a hexblood, you know?”

“Is that so?” Wick pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I can’t imagine anyone would give up on that power to become a hag. You’ll have unlimited magical resources, a coven…”

Sahsi shook her head. “I know what being a hag is. I don’t want to become one though. Not ever.”

“Intriguing. Here, your sage.”

Wick was smiling, but something about it made Sahsi uncomfortable. Like he was being a bit too friendly. “You know, I might be able to help dry this for you. I’m not the most magical, but I do have a fiery heritage.” He lifted his hand and a little flame danced above his fingers.

“I appreciate the offer, but no thank you,” Sahsi managed to force a polite smile. “That’s all I’ll need today. Thank you for your help, Wick.”

“You’re very welcome, my dear!” Wick smiled as he got up, offering his hand down to Sahsi. “It was wonderful to get to know you. You’re the only one like you here, right?”

Sahsi nodded. “I’m afraid so. I’m all right though- I was raised by halflings. I’m more suited for a town like this,” she pulled herself up with Wick’s help. “I’m happy here.”

“Isn’t that wonderful?”

Suddenly Wick’s hand heated up unbearably hot and Sahsi yelped. She yanked her hand away and shook it out, bright red burns shaped liked finger marks already popping up from her skin.

“Oops. I’m terribly sorry. Can’t really control my fire sometimes. See you later, hexblood.”

Wick smirked before he sauntered away. Sahsi watched him go before she dashed to the bathhouse to place her hand in some cool water.

That was not an accident. There was absolutely no way it was an accident. She hissed as she tried to cool off the burn in the cool bucket of water.

“Helllooooo? Is there anyone in here? I left my rapier in here, so if you fucking took it- Sahsi?”

Sahsi looked up, then down, to see a familiar goblin poking her head in the door. “Oh, hi Odra. Were you washing your weapons in here?”

“Of course. What else is this place good for… are you okay?” Odra cocked her head to the side. “You look a bit shook up.”

“Oh I’m….” Sahsi trailed off before she sighed. “I’m not fine. The new fire genasi in the guild, Wick? I think he has something against hexbloods. He… asked some strange questions, said some weird things. And when he helped me up to my feet, he burnt my hand. He said it was an accident, but I’m not sure.”

Odra gaped. “That- that dick! What could he have against hexbloods?”

“I mean, we exist because of hag magic.” Sahsi held up her burnt hand. “It can be a tough place for some people. You’ve fought hags, right?”

“Several!” Odra beamed. “Annis hags, sea hags, green hags- er, sorry, I know your mom-”

“My mom is a horrible person. If you fought her and won, I’d buy you new shoes,” Sahsi deadpanned. “She uses everyone around her, even her own children… it’s why I don’t want to become-”

“A hag?”

Odra gently rested her hand on Sahsi’s leg. “You won’t. You’re not a hag. As someone who’s killed multiple hags, you don’t got what it takes to be one. Hags are bitches, while you’re so nice it makes my teeth hurt.”

Sahsi laughed and patted Odra on the head. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Thanks, Odra. I’m gonna go bandage up my hand.”

~*~

Sahsi wasn’t sure what had happened. She was enjoying her drinks with her friends, laughing about Odra exaggerating her latest feats, she was drinking her beer when she got a bit of a headache, so she excused herself… the last thing she remembered was collapsing in bed as the room spun… and realizing at the worst possible time there was someone standing in the corner. Someone with flickering orange eyes.

“Hey, hothead, the chick you have a murder boner for is waking up.”

“Sweet, sweet Elphira, you could not possibly comprehend the depth of my hatred at the moment for this hexblood. It is not a ‘murder boner’. That is saved for you and your daddy issues.”

“Go eat Crowley’s dick.”

“Oh, I’ve been trying to do that for years, my favorite harlot.”

“Um… guys? You mentioned something about her waking up?”

Sahsi’s eyes flicked open and she was definitely not in her room.

The place had likely been a church of some sort, but it hadn’t been used as such for likely decades. Nature had reclaimed it, turning the roof into a shield of ivy, while the pews were crumbling and overgrown with various flowering bushes. Sahsi had been tied up and laid to rest against a stone altar, while Crowley’s party were all sprawled around the ruins of a once holy place.

Sahsi glanced down at her wrists, which were bound with chain. Not rope.

The satyr’s goat like ears were pressed down against his head. “Wick, this feels wrong. I mean, we just got invited into the guild! And she’s a guild member!” He plucked his badge out of his pocket. “I rather like it here. We’re not supposed to hurt other guild members.”

Wick was looking at his nails, hardly seeming bothered. “I’m just weeding out the trouble before it starts. And if you were so against helping me, little Tynos,” his eyes flicked up and Sahsi shuddered at the hatred in them, “you shouldn’t have given me the herbs that I used to drug her drink.”

Tynos flinched and stared at the floor.

The half drow, Sahsi remembered her name was Elphira, rolled her eyes. “Enough with your dramatic asshattery, Wick. Just kill her and be done with it,” she said.

Kill her?! Sahsi kicked up a struggle against her chains while Wick thoughtfully tapped his chin. “I suppose we don’t have to wait any longer. Give me one of your daggers, Elphira. An iron one. She is fey kind after all,” he said.

“Wait!”

Sahsi’s brain was scrambling for a way out of this. “You- you’ll get caught! People will know!” she yelped as she pulled and yanked at her unrelenting bonds.

Wick took a dagger from Elphira, testing it against his fingertip before he casually walking up to the front of the church where Sahsi was tied up. “No one will know. We’ll mention how you were seen taking a walk in the woods early this morning. You do love your alone time, hexblood.”

“Odra and Garl will-”

“They’re gone.”

Wick smiled darkly before he hauled Sahsi up by the front of her dress. “They’re going on a little mission to put a grave in order, taking Dullahan and Sylvia with them as back up. Rather sentimental, but I digress. By the time they’re back, you will just be a dim memory in the guild. And considering how very short Garl’s attention span is with something he isn’t fucking or something that isn’t Miss Manyboots, you won’t even cross his mind when he sees your bunk is empty.”

The dagger nicked Sahsi’s throat and she whimpered as her brain went empty.

Think, think… think….

“Why?”

A tear dripped down Sahsi’s cheek as she stared at the dagger that was about to end her life. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

Wick narrowed his eyes and Sahsi swore she felt him heat up.

“It’s not about what you have done. It’s about you will do.”

“Just because I’m a hexblood?” Sahsi swallowed the sob in her throat. “What… what happened to you? What made you hate me so much, made you so sure I’ll hurt you?”

Wick paused for a moment, running his tongue over his lips before nodding, resheathing the knife in his belt. “You tempt a bard to tell a story? A smart move.I suppose I can give you as much, the story of two minstrels.”

“Oh my gods, she got him talking,” Elphira groaned. “Get comfy, guys, we’ll be here a while.”

Wick glowered at Elphira before he hauled Sahsi over to the altar, throwing her onto it. Sahsi yelped as her head cracked into the stone, the world swirling in circles around her.

“Wick and Wax’of’Candle.”

Wick leaned back up against the pulpit, those angered eyes not leaving where Sahsi laid. “A pair of minstrels who chose to travel the world to seek their fortune, a pair of fire genasi brothers. I played the lute, or the flute, depending on my mood… and my little brother would sing.” That hatred in his eyes briefly died down as he recalled the memories aloud. “He had the voice to make gods weep, so crystal clear and beautiful. My talent had, and still has, nothing on his. Before we left on our journey, my mother made me promise to take care of him. Protect him. He was younger, kinder. More the type to forgive and forget rather than remember. And one should never forget a wrong done to them, my mother and I both know that.

“We went all around the world. Some nights we ate like kings, other nights we swallowed scraps with the dogs. It was wonderful though. It’s the freedom of it all, choosing your own fate. If you don’t know what tomorrow brings, then you’re in good company.

“Then one day we came across a kingdom, a human kingdom that had never seen a genasi before. We attracted a lot of attention, enough that it got to the king himself. He summoned us to his court and begged us to play for him. Of course we did, we’d never played for royalty before. When we finished our song, he gave us what we thought was a generous deal- play for him and his court, and we’d never be hungry, never want for anything. They gave us contracts, and we signed them like the bloody fools we were. We didn’t know what all the flowery language meant. We didn’t know we’d signed away our freedom until we tried to leave. It didn’t matter how we tried to explain we were travelers, even a few months off the road was a unique kind of torture. As a warning they whipped us both. As a warning. I still have the scars. I held Wax in my arms and we cried, and I promised we’d still at least have each other in this slavery.

“We lived for years in that golden cage. We had everything we wanted, the finest foods, plenty of gold, but we didn’t have our freedom. We were only there to be decoration. Play, play, play whenever the king demanded. Our musical talents were renowned, but it’s difficult to be creative when there’s a whip hanging over your head. We hadn’t made any new songs between the two of us, and the king was getting bored of us.

“Then the enchantress came to court.

“She was beautiful, at least she appeared as much. She wooed the king with her tricks, claiming to be a magician of unlimited power. She wasn’t here to sign a contract though- she’d heard of the pair of genasi brothers, and she wanted to get to know at least one of them. The king ordered Wax to accompany her that night… it hadn’t been the first time someone who had pleased the king demanded our attentions, our gifts. Wax told me he’d be back in the morning, and left with a smile on his face. I’d never see that smile again.

“The next morning the enchantress had left, the only person left in her quarters was Wax…”

Wick’s voice cracked and he finally broke his gaze away from Sahsi. A tear briefly appeared on his cheek, only to hiss and pop as the heat of his body caused it to boil away.

“She’d cut his lips off and ripped out his tongue. From what we understood, she needed them for a spell.”

Oh. Sahsi paled before she used her elbows to push herself up. “… she’d disguised herself, hadn’t she?” she quietly asked. “She wasn’t a beautiful enchantress at all.”

Wick looked up, blankfaced, before nodding once.

“She was a hag. A nasty, wart faced, monster of a crone named Silver Matilda. My brother had never hurt another person in his life. He told me through writing that he saw her true face. A truly hideous beastly thing, she was.”

… Wait.

“He was alive?” Sahsi whispered.

“Alive. And suffering.”

Wick sighed as he looked up to the ceiling. “The healers did the best they could, but none of them were magical. They couldn’t regrow my brother’s tongue. He would never speak again, never sing again. His face was so brutally scarred he wasn’t allowed out in the court anymore. The king would have tossed him out, except I promised myself to his service for the rest of my days. I’d do whatever he wanted, as long as he let Wax stay with me. I’d never run away. I’d be his perfect little songbird. I even ended up learning how to sing, so I could do both mine and Wax’s part. At least I’d still be able to take care of Wax. But I think… I think there was really nothing I could’ve done to help him. Without his tongue and lips, he needed a lot of special care. I was singing in the court from dawn to dusk. Sometimes I’d perform through the night, not sleeping for up to three days at a time. Every time I was allowed to rest, I’d collapse. Wax knew I was suffering for his sake.

“So he waited until I was out of the room to tie a noose from the sheets and hang himself out the window.”

No. Oh gods. Sahsi felt her eyes sting with tears as she stared at Wick, clearly in agonizing emotional pain, recounted this tale.

“In his final note, he begged me not to blame myself… but to blame that fucking hag.”

Wick focused his gaze back on Sahsi and she gulped as she saw him flick that dagger between his fingers.

“I did. I do. And if you think I’ll trust a word of your fucking mouth, those lies that claim you’ll never become a hag,you’re wrong. I know what you are. And I’m taking my pound of flesh.”

Suddenly he was in front of her, grabbing her jaw and twisting her face towards him.

“Do you want to know how it felt? To be unable to speak after losing your lips and your tongue? To be completely helpless?”

“Wait!” Sahsi tried to jerk her head back, but he had such a strong grip as that dagger pressed against her lips. “Please, listen to me! I’m sorry about what happened to you, but your brother wouldn’t want you to do-”

“Sh sh sh sh…” Wick grinned murderously and Sahsi felt a cold chill run up her spine. “No words, my dear. Only screams.”

“Please no! No!” Sahsi shook as more careful pressure was applied, ready to cut her lips off of her face when a bolt of inspiration hit her.

“I can help you find her!”

The genasi paused, raising one of his eyebrows. “Beg pardon?” he repeated.

“You said her name was Silver Matilda!” Sahsi swallowed, staring down at that dagger. She had to keep talking. Anything to stop him from cutting her face up.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Wick asked.

“Every hag has a name and a nickname, um,” Sahsi closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself. “I have sisters who chose to become hags. Their names are Nosy Anne and Screeching Lucy. I’m not a hag, but I know a lot about them. Such as… such as that hags with enough power can know of every other hag in existence.”

“And how does that help me?” Wick narrowed his eyes as he ran that dagger against her lips. “Her name wasn’t Anne or Lucy. Are they powerful hags?”

“I mean, they’re average at best, annoying at worst. But their- our mother isn’t. Her name is Ancient Genevieve. She is the self proclaimed Queen of the Hags.”

She couldn’t believe she was saying this. But if this was her only shot at not being brutally tortured and murdered…

“Ancient Genevieve can help you find the hag that attacked your brother. All she needs is her name. And if I go before her, she will tell you where to find her.”

Wick’s breath caught for a moment, the grip on his dagger faltering. Then he went steely eyed again and pressed the blade against her face again. “How can I trust you?” he asked.

“You’ll go with me!” Frick a frack. The best time to get away from this revenge driven idiot was to go to her mom’s. “You’ve been wronged, Wick. You’ve been… you’ve been hurt so badly, and I’m sorry. But if I can help you get vengeance for Wax, will you believe that I don’t want to be like that? Will you let me go? I won’t tell the guild about what’s happened, I swear it!” If she did, that would definitely sign her own death warrant. Crowley’s party would just leave, and the moment Sahsi let her guard down, she was dead meat.

Wick nodded slowly as he turned this over in his head. Sahsi held her breath, praying to every god that Wick would take her offer. It was the only card she had to play.

Finally he dropped the dagger. “Elphira, where’s the key for the chains?” he asked. “Looks like we’re going on a little road trip.”

Elphira reached into her pocket and threw the key. “No way you’re going alone, I want to see how this plays out,” she said.

Tynos noticeably sighed with relief. “I’ll wake up Nalthea and the hobs. We’ll pack and be ready to go at dawnbreak,” the satyr saluted before he trotted out of the church.

Sahsi sighed with relief as the chains were undone around her wrists. She rubbed them to get the circulation back going. “Thank you-”

her gratitude was interrupted as Wick slammed her down against the altar again. The dagger was back up and Sahsi’s shakes returned. She couldn’t speak. She could only silently pray.

“If this is a trick, hexblood…” Wick didn’t finish the sentence. He cut her face, right under her left cheekbone. He released Sahsi before throwing the dagger aside. “Am I clear?”

Sahsi whimpered as she sat back up, reaching to touch her cheek. “I… yes. Crystal clear,” she whispered.

“Good.”

With the threat still hanging in the air, Wick stormed out of the church, his feet leaving burnt marks on the ground behind him.

Sahsi slid off the altar before she tumbled to the ground, unable to support her weight on her jelly like legs. She reached up to touch her bleeding cheek before bursting into sobs.

I have to go home. I have to go home.

“Hello there.”

Sahsi swallowed before looking up. It was Crowley, and he almost looked genuinely concerned. It didn’t quite reach his eyes though, it was more like… curiosity.

“Hags are a rather independent species. How is your mother the queen?”

“Self proclaimed. Don’t… don’t forget that part.” Sahsi closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the altar that was nearly the last place she knew in this world. “Why did you let him do that?”

“I don’t let him ‘do’ anything. His thing is hag murder, mine is getting rich. Hags happen to have a lot of treasure, and lots of people will pay to have hags killed.” Crowley shrugged. “It’s really a win win situation. I get a powerful ally so I can continue to get whatever I want, he gets to make himself feel better by murder. I don’t see why that’s so hard to understand.”

Sahsi sniffled, wiping her eyes off on her sleeve. “Perhaps because I’ve never understood hurting other people,” she murmured.

“Well, you’re weak, but at least you’re honest about it.” Crowley reached down to pat her head in a way that was anything but comforting. “It’ll be fine. You’ll tell your mom you want Silver Matilda’s head on a platter, and then you’ll get your sickly sweet happily ever after. I have to go make sure my hobgoblins don’t kill each other while packing up for the trip. You can stick around here. And if you try to run away, you’ll not have to worry about seeing your mom again. I’m pretty sure Wick will incinerate you.”

Crowley left the church, leaving Sahsi alone to sob.

Garl, Odra, please- come home soon. Help me.

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[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- A Stolen Grave

Prev.

“Hey, Garl! It’s a mini-you!”

Odra pulled faces at the small statuette. “Grrrr, I’m a big, mean, emotionally constipated gargoyle with a stupid ass name,” she teased.

Garl sighed. “Hilarious. That one looks like you. Ugly enough at least,” he said, pointing at another hideous statue.

Odra gasped in mock offense. “Bitch, I’m beautiful. There is not a sculptor skilled enough to capture my face to stone.”

“Are you two going to buy something or am I going to have to ask you to leave my store?”

Odra rolled her eyes before looking up at the cranky craftsman. “I’m deciding! Honestly, does a blanket on a ground and some really ugly statues count as a store?”

The craftsman scowled. “These creations of mine are not ‘ugly’, they are defenders of the home! Now buy one or leave!”

Garl rolled his eyes too before looking down at one of the pitiful little statues. “You’re an embarrassment,” he whispered to one of the still gargoyles before he picked Odra up and placed her on his shoulder. “Come on, Odra. Dullahan asked us to get him some herbs, and that vendor’s only here in the morning.”

Odra propped her head up on Garl’s. “Fiiiiine. Can we stop at that one preserves vendor too? They told me last time they were making a new batch of radish pickles and I have to get some.”

“As long as you buy it with your own gold and you’re not up all night farting, I don’t care.”

“I’m so over your fucking shit.”

“I have to share a room with you. I’m the one who’s over your shit. It’s bad enough you only bathe once a month, I don’t want to deal with you ripping ass.”

Unluckily for Garl, Odra bought two jars of radish pickles along with dried meat covered with spices he’d never even heard about before. Apparently, if it didn’t hurt her, it wasn’t spicy enough. But those herbs Dullahan needed were thankfully in a large supply.

“Why are you Dullahan’s errand boy anyway?” Odra asked on the way back as she loudly chewed on her jerky.

“If you keep chewing in my ear, I’m going to rip your tongue out and stuff it down your throat. And I did it because he’ll… owe me a… favor…”

Odra frowned as Garl trailed off and came to a dead halt. “Garl? You okay?” She followed his line of site to see he was looking at the gargoyle vendor. “Garl?”

Garl didn’t say anything. He just stared as the vendor showed off an impressively sized statue to some clearly well off clientele. It was much better than anything else he’d had to sell, it almost looked real with how it was crouched, its head bowed over its knees. Any second it looked it could jump up and attack.

“Wow, why didn’t he have that out earlier?” Odra whistled. “It almost looks real-”

“Odra. Be quiet for a few minutes. Please.”

Odra never shut her mouth so quickly. It was one thing when Garl casually threatened to horribly murder her, but when he said ‘please’ it was time to shut the fuck up and listen to him. Garl slowly approached the back of the crowd.

“-how did you make such a beautiful piece?” one of the ladies cooed, reaching to touch the life sized gargoyle on the face. Garl noticeably flinched and Odra frowned. Was he upset?

No. There was something too calm about him. Like the time this bandit called Odra Garl’s little sex doll and had made nonstop innuendo about how female goblins were down for anything.

Garl was enraged.

“Well, what can I say, when you’ve been carving for so long, you can really bring some of this stone to life,” the vendor chuckled, puffing himself up. “This is my masterpiece. But for you my dear, I’ll let you purchase my art for… how does three thousand gold sound?”

Before the woman could respond, another of the wealthy men butted in with, “I’ll pay five thousand! It’s exquisite!”

Garl remained still as the two rich fucks bid between each other. Finally the woman won with a final bid of fifteen thousand gold. She promised to come tomorrow with a cart to pick it up, and the group dissipated. Garl walked off as well, and Odra finally got the guts to talk again.

“Garl? What’s wrong?”

“… it was a real one, Odra.”

Garl’s voice was low but level. Odra gulped. “A… real one?”

“A real gargoyle. Like me.”

“Why… why wasn’t it-”

“It was dead.”

Garl randomly veered into an alley and Odra leaped off his shoulders. Just in time too, Garl roared and slammed his fist into a wall, putting his hand right through brick. Odra shook as Garl took several deep breaths and withdrew his fist.

“You don’t… you don’t mess with a grave like that. Especially not a gargoyle’s.” His head was bowed but Odra could see how his eyes were flickering brighter than she’d ever seen them. “Our graves are sacred. You know how rare it is for a gargoyle to die of old age? And he had to have, there’s no chips, no breakage. His grave would be venerated. Moving him… moving him is… I wanted to rip that bastard’s arms off and make him choke on them.”

Odra gulped before slowly approaching Garl, resting one of her hands on his leg. When he didn’t bat her away, she softly patted him. “Why didn’t you?” she asked.

“… Because he needs to tell me where the hell he stole that gargoyle so I can put him back.”

Garl took a deep breath before he scooped Odra up, ruffling her ears before putting her back on his shoulders. “I’m gonna need some back up. You in?”

Odra grinned.

“Please. You really have to ask?”

Garl smiled coldly before walking out of the alley.

“Good.”

He was quiet the rest of the way to the guild. Once they got in though, he veered right over to Dullahan’s table, where the human was currently hacking and coughing like he had something caught in his throat.

“Dullahan-”

Dullahan lifted a finger, and with one final gag he spat out what looked like a small stone. “… I’ve coughed up bigger, but it’ll do,” he gasped. He picked up the stone, wiped some bile and saliva off of it and put it in his healing pouch.

Odra hopped off of Garl and onto the table. “What the fuck was that?”

“Bezoar.”

“You just- make those? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“It’s a gift.” Dullahan shrugged. “They make great poison cures.”

Garl slammed the herbs down on the table. Dullahan blinked owlishly at the bag. “… You know, you should be more gentle. People are going to talk about what we have,” he said as he picked up his cup of tea and took a slow sip.

“Remember how you said you’d ‘owe me’ if I ran to the vendor to get these for you?”

Dullahan paused before slowly lowering his mug. “I remember. What’s on your mind, my stonehearted friend?” he asked.

“I need your help to steal a body.”

“… Wow. Okay then. In.”

~*~

It was late in the night when that cart vendor weaved his way out of the tavern, with a lovely half orc courtesan on his arm. No more lonely nights for him, with the money he was about to make off of that stupid statue he found.

It was only when the half orc turned the corner into an alley where that gargoyle from earlier was waiting for him did he get an inkling he may have fucked up.

“This the guy, Garl?” Besh asked, gesturing at the drunk vendor with her thumb.

Garl nodded. “Thank you. I’ll pay you next time I find myself in Fit For Kings,” he said.

Besh winked before shoving the vendor into the wall and strutting out of the alley. The vendor scrambled to his feet but when he turned back to the mouth of the alley, Sylvia and Odra were already blocking his path. Turning back forward, he was face to chest to Garl, who spread his wings menacingly.

“You know, my kind don’t make great long distance fliers.”

Garl grabbed the vendor by the shoulders, digging his fingers into his shoulders with a manic expression. “But I can definitely lift you high enough in the air to drop you on your head, crack your skull like a fucking egg on the pavement,” he growled.

“Wha- let me go! Do you know who you’re messing with!? Guar-”

Before the vendor could call for the guards, Dullahan slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shhhhhh… don’t speak. Garl, that’ll kill him too quickly. Get him on the ground. I have an idea. By the way, scream, and he’ll probably just take your head off. Make all of this worth his trouble.”

Garl pinned the vendor down while Dullahan dug through his bag. “Let’s see… no, not that one… not that one… oh, here we go!” he pulled a leaf out of his pocket and crammed it down the vendor’s throat. The vendor coughed and gagged but he swallowed it.

“What was that?!”

“Poison!” Dullahan proudly declared. “You have a few minutes before it kicks in. You’ll feel some nausea, followed by every muscle in your body going really tense as you seize up. You’ll probably- no, you’ll definitely piss your pants. You’ll start hallucinating while your heart beats out of control. You’ll be in probably the worst pain of your life and you can’t even scream because your muscles are all contracting. Then your limbs will start to harden, your blood will turn to poison, aaaand you’ll die a slow, painful death. Once the pissing happens, I can’t help you. You’re past the point of no return. So, how about you tell Garl whatever he needs to know, and if I think you’re lying, I’ll just let him stuff you in the garbage bin to be dumped outside the city tomorrow.”

“What is it?!” The vendor sobbed. “What do you want to know?!”

Garl grabbed the vendor by the chin. “Tell me. Where. You. Got. The. Gargoyle. Body.”

“What?”

“The statue that was way too good for you to have carved? Yeah, that’s because it’s a body.” Garl’s fingers started ripping into his chin. “Where did you get it?”

The vendor sobbed. “I- I found it! I found it in the Underdark, the domain that currently is under the rule of the Great Queen Rillana! Please don’t let me die!”

Dullahan glanced up at Garl. “You know the Underdark very well, Garl?” he asked.

“Well enough. You going to cure him?”

“I mean, I’ve never seen all the effects of that herb, I kinda wanna watch…”

The vendor bawled.

“Okay, fine. Open up. I made this one fresh today!”

Dullahan popped a bezoar out of his pocket and forced it down the vendor’s throat. Odra shuddered and turned away.

“Okay, that’s nasty.”

Sylvia cocked an eyebrow. “… I’ve seen you eat a squirrel off the side of the path that had been dead no less than a week and had been squished by multiple carts. And that’s too much for you?”

“It is! He puked it up! Ewww!”

Garl hauled the blubbering vendor to his feet. “All right, now all you have to do is give me that gargoyle, and I’ll leave you be to sell your shitty statues. You tell anyone about what’s happened though, and I’ll not only have my friend here give you another one of those herbs, I’m going to cut off your legs and let you dangle off a rooftop while you die from the poison. Got it?”

The vendor nodded frantically.

“Good. Hope you didn’t blow through all that gold, because I’m pretty sure your customer’s going to be disappointed they can’t add a dead body to their collection.”

~*~

“… Dullahan, are you still-”

“You called me a friiieeennnd…”

“Oh my gods.”

Odra stared at the still gargoyle grave, seemingly lost in thought. She rested a hand gently on its side. “So, we take it back?” she questioned.

Garl looked away from the dramatic Dullahan. “I have to. You don’t disturb a gravesite, Odra. It’s wrong,” he said.

Odra laughed quietly before patting the grave gargoyle and hopping back onto Garl’s back. “Well, you can’t get rid of me that easily, Garl. You have a horrible sense of direction, you’re so going to get lost in the Underdark.”

Garl sighed but gave Odra an affectionate pat. “Keep telling yourself that, brat,” he said.

Dullahan scooted up next to Garl. “Are any of your other ‘friends’ invited on this journey?” he asked.

“I swear to every god masked and unmasked, Dullahan, I will kill you.”

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[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- A Declined Confession

Prev.

“So… you see? I’ve never fallen in love with a client before, but you’re different from all the others. I love you Garl. Please… won’t you love me too?”

The deafening silence coming from Gemlyl’s room was all the answer that Besh needed, even if the dwarf was still waiting with baited breath. Besh hadn’t intended on listening in, but she was bringing Gemlyl her new gown from the tailor’s, and had paused when she realized that Gemlyl was with a client.

“Garl? Garl, please say something.”

The gargoyle sighed and Besh winced.

“Fine. I won’t be seeing you again, Gemlyl.”

“Wha- why!?”

Shadows moved from under the door and Besh ducked to the side, praying that neither Garl or Gemlyl would leave the room.

“Because I don’t love you. For me, this is transactional. It’s not about love. It’s about the sex. I’m sorry you got confused, but I’m not going to pretend this is more than that.”

“But-what- you’re so-”

“Gentle?” Garl snorted. “Gemlyl, you’re sweet, but you’re not bright. If I’m not gentle, I’ll literally fuck you to death. I’m made of rock. I have to be gentle. And I like it when the lady who is taking my company enjoys herself too. It has nothing to do with falling in love with you.”

Silence. Besh heard Gemlyl sniffle.

“Don’t… don’t cry. Please stop crying.”

“How can you be so cold?”

“Because I really don’t care about you that way. And your tears aren’t going to change that. You’ll figure out quick enough that you loving me was a mistake, and you’ll find someone else. Probably someone as boorish and hopelessly romantic as you are.”

“You- you bastard!”

“See, you’re already figuring it out. Everyone falls in love with someone they shouldn’t at least once. And in your case, it was a major fuck up because this is your job. I paid you for a service. Don’t get soft because of it. Goodbye, Gemlyl.”

Besh cussed as she ducked into the bordering hallway, Gemlyl’s door swinging open and the dwarf fleeing while sobbing her eyes out. Garl followed, sighing again and pinching the bridge of his nose before turning towards the hiding half orc. “How much of that did you hear?” he asked.

Besh slowly peeked her head around the corner. “… Enough. How often does that happen?” she asked.

“Not too often. Often enough that it gets irritating.” Garl shifted his weight between his feet before gesturing to the dress Besh was holding. “Not for you, I’m guessing.”

“Oh, it’s for Gemlyl. Maybe it’ll make her feel better once she comes back.” Besh glanced down at the dress. “So… that’s how you handle love confessions then. Just- straight to the point, shoot them down.”

“How old are you, Besh?”

“Pardon?” Besh frowned. “I’m twenty. What does that-”

“When you get a bit older, you’ll get it. Better to just-” Garl drew a line across his throat with his finger. “Cut it off before it gets worse. It probably hurts, but it’s better than leading them on, don’t you think?”

Besh bit the inside of her lip before nodding. “I guess. You’ve never fallen in love then? Had your heart beat a little faster because of a girl?” she asked.

“… No. Don’t think I ever will either.”

Garl affectionately patted Besh on the shoulder. “Don’t make the same mistake she did,” he said before he headed for the stairs.

Besh took a deep breath to calm her rushing heart before she went into Gemlyl’s room to hang up the dress.

He made it sound so easy, not falling in love. But it was a lot harder when he stroked your hair when you were all tangled up with each other, his little love bites that left bruises Besh never wished would fade…. But he was right.

Besh set the dress up before heading back to her own room. She didn’t have any other clients booked for today, and really, she wasn’t sure if she was in a good headspace to see them. You weren’t very good at being entertainment if your mind was thinking about another man. Which she definitely was.

Don’t fall in love. Don’t fall in love.

And whatever you do, don’t tell him. Otherwise you’ll lose him for good.

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The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- Bathtime

Prev.

“NO! LET ME GO! FIENDS! MURDERERS! SOMEONE HELP ME, HE’S GOING TO KILL ME!”

“Odra, it’s a fucking bath. Let go of the wall.”

Dullahan paused when he saw Odra gripping onto the front door for dear life while Garl tried to pull her free. “Won’t she melt if she’s put in water?” he asked.

“No, she showers in the rain all the time, but she’s starting to smell like week’s old garbage,” Garl grunted as he gave her another yank. “The guild master said either she takes a bath or he’s giving her the boot.”

“I’ll take the boot! I’ll take the boot! Don’t put me in the bath!” Odra shrieked.

Garl sighed and looked back at Dullahan. “You have any ideas?” he asked.

Dullahan stroked his chin thoughtfully before he snapped his fingers. “I’ll use sleep on her!” he said as he stretched forward his hand, a blue light dancing around his fingertips.

“DON’T YOU DARE YOU FUCKER!”

Odra lunged at Dullahan, in the process letting go of the door. Garl caught the smelly goblin at the last second and pulled both of her arms behind her back. “Got ya,” he grunted before he carried her away.

Dullahan followed behind with a smirk. “I have to watch this,” he said with a snicker.

Odra wailed as Garl dragged her kicking and screaming down to the bath house back behind the guild. The gargoyle had already made sure to warn everyone that Odra was going in there that day, so it was mostly empty, save for a few humans hungover from partying the night before who were awoken by Odra’s shrieking.

Garl rolled his eyes as he yanked Odra back to the baths. “Dullahan, are you going to be any help?” he asked.

“No, of course not. This is just hilarious.” Dullahan plopped down on one of the stool. “I wish I had popped corn.”

“I will beat the shit out of you later, if I let go now she will just run into the woods and get even more dirty.”

Garl held Odra up by the back of her tunic. “Are you going to fucking behave? I’m not taking your clothes off for you, you’re a fucking adult,” he scolded.

Odra stuck her tongue out before she went limp. “Fine,” she grumbled. Garl lowered her to the ground and Odra shed her ragged clothes, standing before the bathtub with a grimace.

“This is harassment.”

“You smell like death.”

“I’m waiting for the next rain. Rain doesn’t have smelly soap.”

“Right now you need soap, and we’re in the middle of a fucking drought. Get in the bath.”

Odra pressed her lips together and shook her head. Garl took a deep breath.

“You have until three to get into the bath without me making you. One.”

“You’re mean.”

“Two.”

“Stick your own stone dick up your ass.”

“Three.”

Garl promptly kicked Odra into the bath, the goblin yelping one last time before she splashed into the bubbles. Her head popped out and she scowled, spitting out a mouthful of water.

“I’m going to tell your next hook up that you ejaculate pebbles.”

“You mean he doesn’t?” Dullahan asked. “Also, can I look now? I don’t really want to look at a naked goblin’s ass.”

“She’s in the water, you’re fine- and I don’t ejaculate pebbles!”

Odra blew raspberries. “He totally does, with a puff of dust too!” She taunted.

Garl growled before scooping up a sponge and grabbing Odra by the scruff of the neck. “Hold still, you’re fucking disgusting,” he said as he started scrubbing crud and dirt off of her head. “Your ears still have blood in them from our last job! That was almost two weeks ago!”

“It hasn’t affected my hearing!” Odra complained. “Ow! This hurts! Gaaarrll…”

“If it didn’t get so bad, it wouldn’t have to hurt.”

Odra snapped at his hand before she sunk halfway under the water. “I’m not a kid,” she grumbled.

“You’re acting like one, so you’re getting treated like one.”

After several minutes of rough scrubbing, Odra snatched the sponge back to finished up with her legs and feet before she clambered out of the bath. Dullahan threw her a towel, somehow accurately considering he was back to looking at the wall. Odra caught it and wrapped it around herself. “I feel like I lost a layer of skin,” she muttered, burying her face into the soft towel.

“You’re welcome. Turns out there was a goblin under all that filth, who knew?” Garl patted the top of her head. “I’m washing your clothes tonight, you can just stay in our room until they’re all dry. Sahsi grabbed a child’s nightgown for you, it should be in the room already.”

“I’m not a chiiiild… can you bring me something warm to drink?” Somehow, goblins could pull off the sad puppy dog face, and Garl sighed.

“You’ll get some hot cider once you’re dressed. Now get your ass indoors.”

Odra nodded and walked out of the bathhouse. Dullahan picked up the filthy tunic left on the floor. “You’re not just going to burn these?” he asked.

“They’re her only clothes, and whenever I bring up getting more, she just ignores me and buys shoes.” Garl pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dullahan, can you get her that cider? I’m gonna be here a while. Anyone else touches those, they might catch something, and gods know she won’t do a good job cleaning them.”

Dullahan shuddered and dropped the tunic on the floor. “Riiiight… I’m gonna go grab a hot coal first. Burn the plague off my hands. How can something so small be so gross?”

“You have a kid, you tell me.”

“When I picked up Sylvia, she was already making her own bed. She’s so neat it’s almost disgusting. Anyway. Hot coal. Cider. Goblin child. See you when I see you, Garl.”

Garl watched Dullahan walked out of the bath house before he scooped up the dirty clothes. Really, he was above this in every way.

But somebody had to do it, and there wasn’t enough gold in the world for the laundry women to handle it.

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[theadventuresofgarlandodra]

The Adventures of Garl and Odra Manyboots- Crowley’s Party

Prev.

And today had been going so well too.

Odra was right in the middle of telling Dullahan about the time she was chasing a butterfly and accidentally went head over heels into a pit when she saw it.

Black armor. All too familiarly black armor.

Odra didn’t even remember consciously making the decision to get out of her chair, she was now suddenly across the room and launched herself at that bastard, that fucking son of a bitch who dared show his face here-

“Um. Ouch.”

It was only when Odra had sunk her teeth into the cretin’s arm that she realized this wasn’t Calipher. Nope. It was definitely his armor, she could guarantee that, but the blond twink inside that armor was not the edgelord Calipher.

The young man lifted his arm, smiling bemusedly. “Well, isn’t this a lovely greeting? Please get off of me though. Your spittle is starting to eat through my armor, and really, I just got it. I would like to keep it for a bit longer.”

Odra stared at the pretty boy for a second longer before she let go, dropping to the ground. She wiped her mouth off. “Did you happen to take the armor off of a bastard?” she asked as she wiped her arm off.

“I’ll only share a secret if you share one too.” The man knelt down, still smiling in a way that made Odra’s skin crawl. He was definitely beautiful by human standards, flawless skin, blond curls, and a magical glow about him. Literally. He faintly glowed gold, like the sun, except not nearly as blinding.

“Pass.” Odra stuck her tongue out. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else. I’m going to go back to my beer-” The goblin had just finished turning around to head back to her table when she bonked right into a pair of very muscled legs.

“Eh? What… Oh hello there!”

Odra was scooped up like a doll, held under her armpits by a goliath woman built like a gladiator. “Aren’t you so cute!” she cooed. “Like a little kitten, hissing and clawing at a wolf! We should keep her!”

“Thunderwarrior, that’s not a kitten, that’s a goblin. Put her down, she probably has some kind of disease.”

Odra whipped her head around as she was now surrounded by an adventuring party she’d never met before. The goliath was just one part of it. There was now also a half elf with the grayest skin Odra had ever seen, a satyr with a golden hoofed shaped boot on his left leg, a fire genasi with each strand of hair glowing bright like the end of a lit fuse, a balding, fat hobgoblin she didn’t recognize… and one scrawny one wearing goggles that she did.

“Hey! You!” Odra squirmed, but she couldn’t get loose from the goliath’s iron grip. “You were with Calipher! Where is that no balls cretin!?”

Kendrenal shrugged. “I don’t keep track of my failures. Siding with Calipher was a mistake. One I have remedied. I now work with Crowley, who is much better.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” the blond armor thief said, patting Kendrenal on the head as the hobgoblin practically vibrated out of his skin with joy. “Kendrenal, how about you get us all signed into the guild? Tell them you’re a part of my party, I might not come here very often, but I am an official card carrying member.” To demonstrate, he pulled the guild’s badge from his pack. “See? We’re all on the same side here. If you have a grudge with Kendrenal, I can help put it right.”

Odra bared her teeth. “I don’t need any favors from you, thanks. As far as I know, you’re no better than the guy who’s armor… you took…” She glanced down at his belt. “That’s not yours either!” she managed to finally wiggle her arm free and pointed at the mace. “That belongs to Calipha!”

“Well, as I’m sure you’ve said in the past,” Crowley reached up and poked Odra on the nose, “she should have kept a better hold of it.”

“Keep your fingers to yourself. I bite.”

Crowley chuckled. “Oh, you are delightful. Thunderwarrior, better put her down. She could be rabid.”

After giving her another rough pat on the head, Thunderwarrior plopped Odra back on the ground. “So cute,” the goliath crooned before Kendrenal scampered back.

“I’m a guild member now!” he proudly proclaimed before he started passing out badges. “And so are you, Wick’of’Candle…”

“Just Wick,” the genasi politely corrected.

“And so are you, Thunderwarrior,”

The goliath quietly squealed as she took the badge, which looked pathetically small in her hands.

“And so are you, Tynos,”

The satyr snatched the badge before he attached it to his hair like a barrette.

“And so are you, Elphira!”

The half elf took her badge, hummed appreciatively, and stuck it in her pouch.

The final member, the unfamiliar hobgoblin, hemed and hawed as he whipped his head around to look at the rest of the party. “Pardon me, but it looks that you’ve forgotten someone!” he snapped.

Kendrenal stroked his chin. “Did I?” He made a show of looking around at everyone. “… No, I don’t think so!”

The hobgoblin looked ready to pop as Kendrenal smiled innocently. “You nitwit, you forgot me! Second in command Turgut!” He shouted, shaking his finger.

“There’s a second in command Turgut?”

“You cheeky- that’s it! That’s enough from you! That’ll be ten laps! Ten laps around the guild building, right now! And I see that smile, Elphira, that’ll be twice as many laps from you! Come on now, on the double!”

Elphira responded by calling Turgut what was likely an insulting word in Elvish before she turned to Thunderwarrior. “Come on, Nalthea, let’s go check out the baths, my back is killing me,” she said.

Thunderwarrior beamed. “Then I will rub your back!” she proclaimed as she following the blushing half drow out.

“You’re not allowed to fuck in the baths!” Odra shouted after the girls.

The genasi, Wick, chuckled before he knelt down to Odra’s level. “There will be no passionate exchange between them. As beautiful as both of them are, Elphira is too shy to confess, and while goliaths are strong… they are incredibly dense and will not understand romantic intent unless you spell it out to them.” He pushed down his glasses, revealing his fiery orange eyes.

Odra scooted away from Wick. “Yeah, gotcha. You’re not my friend, and your breath smells like sulfur, so I’m just gonna go,” she said as she turned away again.

She slunk back to the table, where Garl was waiting for her. “… That’s Calipher’s armor?” he asked.

“I’m sure of it. And that second hobgoblin, the one with the hand cannon,” she nodded over at the bar, where Turgut was sulking as Kendrenal happily sucked away at a frothy drink. “He was there.”

“I think I remember him,” Garl reached to touch a chip on his arm, “left me with this. Course, since he wasn’t a guild member then, I don’t think the guild master will give a damn. Especially because he already hates the both of us. What do you think happened to Calipher?”

Odra eyed Crowley, who was laughing and talking with the guild master, who wasn’t laughing or even smiling.

“… I don’t know. But I have a bad feeling about Crowley.”

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