”Hey there blubber. You know, I think we have gotten off on the wrong foot. I hate you because you’re a disgusting, smelly abomination. And you seem to hate me because… I don’t know, really. I mean, what’s there to hate? Anyway, if it weren’t for you and your disgusting self, I might not have been rescued by our fair maiden. So, I’ve been thinking. And like, I forgive you, for like, being, you.”
Frey said to the wobbling, demonic, slimy mass in front, wobbling slowly towards him. No response in sight, yet Frey stared on expectantly, almost feverishly.
“What do you say, little man? Shall we be friends?”
Frey spoke to the demon slime, wiggling its way slowly towards him, squatting in front of it and slowly backing up himself. The blob didn’t make any motion that it wouldn’t stop following him, and try to kill him. Yet Frey was patient. He waited for any sign that the blob had understood him or meant to reciprocate the love Frey was giving.
But only for a minute. Eventually, even he grew bored of waiting and stabbed into its fleshy, blobby body. Deflating like a pricked balloon and oozing out its gassy contents. Frey backed up further and waved at the air in-front in a fruitless attempt to sway off the disgusting smell.
“Geez man, did I really smell like this? You gotta check on what you’re eating. Or I mean, your predecessor’s gotta do it. I assume you’re dead. Maybe, probably.”
Going thoughtful for a second, but only a second as the moment passed quickly, shrugging his shoulders in disinterest then turning to walk towards the gate, staring at its jaw dropping beauty and epicness. Steps firm and calm, yet no song was to be whistled out, eyes focused and slightly, skittish. Fingers holding spear harder than necessary, and his other hand checking for the fourth time that his two health potions were easily accessible in his trouser pockets.
And then he was upon it, the gate he’d entered two times before, now to be his third. He looked up at it, straining his neck as it went up and up, the painting obscured by how close he was. Backpack fell to the ground and snaked within his legs grasp, ready to be put into place and secure his escape.
Lastly, he placed his palm squarely on the gate, yet didn’t push, simply held it there. Holding it as he felt the gate’s cold, stony surface. Breathing as he stared at the back of his hand. A hand that, ever so slightly, shaked. Shaked as he star-
“Come on, you fucking pussy, you’ve faced worse.”
Frey suddenly whispered, eyes getting a glimmer of anger, and sadness as he pushed on the gate, opening it slowly, readying his body for what was to come. Yellowish light streaming through the gap, brighter and brighter until it fully opened, revealing the giant in all of its glory.
“Hello there big guy, missed me?”
Frey said with a smile entering the room.
“Fucking shit.”
He said, leaving the room with a jump and a sprint. Both of his health potions smashed in his pockets and his fingers on the right hand crushed. Quickly, he pulled his backpack out of the gate and saw it slowly closing. While it closed fully, he rumbled through his bag and fished out a health potion, gobbling it down and reveling in its wonderful coldness and relief. The crack of fingers fitting themselves back into place being just slightly disturbing.
Next, he ruffled through his pockets, carefully, as he grabbed handfuls of glass and threw them away. Then found that there were some rather, unfortunate holes within said pockets. A frown came to his mouth, and then he shrugged, putting on his backpack to head back into the city. A fruitless day with the boss.
Opening the door to a lively city, he breathed in the open-cave air and practically started vibrating, shaking his body off of loose energy as he put the defeat- the unlucky hit behind him. Though, his mood soured further as he saw the old-granny standing a few meters before him, caught off-guard by his appearance, then looking him up and down, gaining a vicious smile as she did.
“Well, I see you’re up bright and early. Can’t get enough of losing?”
“Granny”
Frey said with narrowed eyes and clenched teeth, trudging towards the old-granny that was surrounded by two- three- four guys. All turning to stare at Frey, all a head bigger than granny and her shining visage that gleamed off of her armour.
“And no, I’m not losing. I’m merely postponing my eventual victory.”
“By losing?”
The old-granny said with a smile, a devious smile and a raised eyebrow. Which could not stand, as Frey walked closer with wide steps. His eyes set on the old-granny. Intervened by one of the four guys, until he wasn’t, as a gentle hand from the old-granny stopped the man from moving in front. Ignoring him, Frey came nose to nose with the granny, staring daggers into her very calm eyes.
“By. Being. Unlucky.”
The two shared a moment, mere centimeters from one another, oh so very close. And Frey quickly realized it as his lips started puckering, stopping himself with a slap to his own cheek.
“No! I knew it! You’re a devilish succubus!”
The move taking the four men off-guard, shouting out in different variants of anger, but silenced with a mere finger from the granny.
“You call me granny and succubus? What next? Whore?”
“Are you?”
“No”
“Then no, you old-granny… fart.”
Again, the men grumbled angrily behind the old-granny, but restrained themselves as the granny made no indication that she herself was, angry. Which actually peeved Frey off more than he would ever admit, staring down at the stupid, cocky, fart-granny.
After almost an entire minute, the granny looked away from the impromptu staring contest, nodding softly to herself as she looked over his shoulder towards the door as she asked.
“Isn’t this your fourth attempt? Not afraid that you’ll lose more than just your pride?”
The granny said with a self-important smile, raising her brow as she looked back at Frey. Frey narrowed his own eyes even further, barely able to see the granny, and did not respond for a full five seconds. Peeved was not the word he was, he was on tilt by the devious, devilish, fart-granny. Staring intently, then slowly, speaking up.
“It’s actually my third- thank you very much. And no, no, I’m not because I won’t lose.”
She snorted in response, but didn’t elaborate. Frey looking like a squished tomato as he pondered on how bad it could be to hit a fart-granny. Glancing over at the guys, he told himself that it would probably be bad. Though, he’d faced worse odds-
“Why don’t you join ascension? We’d gladly accept a young buck such as you.”
“Join you? Fuck no. And Ascension? That just sounds like a religious cult.”
Granny smiled, then raised her hand and pinched Frey’s cheek before he could react. Not painfully, but hard enough that it made Frey feel like a lesser man as he took a step back in shock.
“No silly, we are the biggest and best armed group for ascending the tower. Our name might be a little on the nose, but as I always say, simple names make fewer mistakes.”
“You pinched me! How dare you pinch me! And your name sucks. A better name would be like, the heaven’s warriors. Practical names are just boring.”
“That would be, impractical. Then we’d really sound like a cult.”
“You don’t already?”
“No, no we are merely recruiting people and amassing gear to prepare for the final ascension.”
“Uhuh? And what, from that, doesn’t sound like a cult to you?”
The granny went silent, mulling over his words before finally letting go of her smile, sighing deeply as she said.
“Alright, when you put it like that. Yes, it sounds like a cult. But to some, a cult is better than nothing. At least ascension gives everyone a chance to finally ascend the tower and obtain their wish. Something you seem very interested in doing yourself. So, why don’t you join us?”
“Nah, I’m good. I don’t wanna associate with a bunch of weirdos. And I don’t like you. I’ll go my own way, thank you very much.”
“Oh-ho, you really are a cocky fellah, aren’t you? Well, we know how to use people such as you in this fine city.”
“USE ME?! MY BODY ISN’T FOR SALE! Unless it’s too hot babes, then I’m available twenty-four seven babeeey.”
The granny’s smiled, a smile that bordered on laughing but stopping oneself to not look stupid, kinda smile. Looking at Frey as he shielded his body from her lustful eyes.
“You might have noticed that the gate remains closed after your battles?”
Frey shook his head by the sudden turn of subject, looking up at the four men presumably guarding granny, noticing them also slightly puzzled. Slowly, Frey responded, letting go of his body.
“Yeah, I have. I’ve just assumed that it does that to force me to not fight more than once a day. I mean, once a, bell?”
The granny’s smile faltered as her expression formed into one of surprise, delighted surprise as she said.
“That’s very observant of you.”
Puffing out his chest, Frey smiled widely as he responded.
“I know, I know. I’m kind of a genius.”
“-though it’s slightly wrong. Yes, the boss can only be fought once a bell. But that counts for everyone.”
“Obviously.”
“No, everyone. If say, I go in and fight, you won’t be able after I leave.”
Frey’s smile faltered, looking down on the granny with an, uneasy smile.
“-And say, if I defeat the boss…”
“I won’t be able to fight him, and I’ll be stuck on this level?”
Frey said quickly, eyes widening at the implicit complication granny was suggesting.
“Jackpot.”
Frey’s smile waned completely as his face morphed into terror, pushing his hands onto his face as he hid a horrified gaping mouth behind them, wide eyed staring down at granny.
“Then I might never climb up from this shit-show of a city?! EVER?!”
Granny didn’t respond, but her smile told him all he needed to know. Quickly he looked back on the bosses door, then back to granny, practically shouting as he said.
“How do I know when the next bell rings?!”
“That’s valuable information that I won’t just give away for free. Unless, of course, you join ascension.”
“Fuck that shit. I’ll just ask that glasses wearing medieval knight guy.”
“If you mean Patrick, he’s a part of ascension.”
“He is?! Fucking Patrick, I knew he was up to something. That snake. Where is he granny? WHERE IS HE!”
“Did you not hear me? He’s a part of ascension. Of course I won’t say where he is. We protect our own.”
“Protect him? Do you think I’m going to hurt him or something? Do you take me for a hooligan?”
Granny didn’t respond, merely raising an eyebrow that Frey didn’t see. Instead, he looked around as if searching for Patrick as he continued speaking.
“No, I won’t harm him. He owes me money. How would I get my money if he can’t move?”
“Then it’s fine. He’s by the top dog, presumably hanging out with-“
“THE TOP DOG?! Of course that snake would spend MY money on drinks, that, fucking, arg!”
Frey said as he walked with quick steps towards said bar, walking past granny and her four men. Hopefully not in that kind of relationship. Overhearing one of the men saying “But big mom, the boss won’t-“ before being silence by said, granny and later by the distance Frey had already travelled.
Travelling swiftly towards the bar and its long line of people. A line he spotted in the distance. A line he came closer too. A line he was at the back of. A line he by-passed as he went up to its guard who welcomed him with open arms.
“Frey! Back to cause yet another ruckus man?”
“Hi big man, let me in.”
“No can do, and you know why, man.”
“Yeah yeah, but I actually have a reason to come inside.”
“You do?”
“Yeah man, Patrick’s inside and I need to talk to him.”
“What do you need to talk to him about?”
“He owes me money, and information. And I need both.”
The guard opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself, crossing his arms as he took a moment to ponder. Frey staring up expectantly, blinking innocently.
“You know what man, why not. But you gotta promise me to not make a scene or beg for anything.”
“Of course I won’t! You can trust me man, do I look like someone who’d go back on their words?”
“Uhm, sorry man, but yeah.”
Taking a step back in mock-outrage, Frey pushed a hand to his chest and raised his other with a finger, pointing acquisitively at the guard.
“How dare thee be so ruude! I would never betray such a gentlemanly man such as you! Trust me! Believe it!”
“Sure man, whatever you say.”
The guard said with a light chuckle, opening the door and pressing his wide body into the now opened bar. He shifted his body, leaving enough room for Frey to squeeze through as he looked down on him with an amiable smile. Frey smiled back, patting the big man on his arm as he took his first steps into the top dog.
First thing Frey saw was the dim lightning, reminiscent of an Irish pub in its moody atmosphere. Albeit the interior did not remind one of a pub, but rather an old medieval bar. But then, to contrast with even that, the décor and its stools and tables were in the shapes and sizes of modern bar stools. Metal and shiny and everything.
Though, even with the strange blend of times mixed in such a strange way, Frey was not even fazed by the sight, it felt oddly normal for the strange and unusual city. No, what he found odd, was the lack of people in such a big bar. Glancing back and past the big man, he spotted the line with its many people standing in it, grumbling loudly about why he was let in even after cutting the line. Then, looking back into the bar, he spotted maybe twenty people in a bar that could easily fit over a hundred. And that was not including the doorways that presumably led to other rooms.
Shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders at the obvious weirdness, he walked further in and heard the door close behind him. He glanced around, spotted the Greek god, then continued glancing-
THE GREEK GOD?!
“DOORMAN?!”
He screamed, gaining the attention of the few patrons in the bar, all looking at him, including the Greek god-now doorman. Said doorman standing behind the bar and lifting his head from filling up a mug of frothing beer. The doorman looked at him, lifting his eyebrows up and staring at him in puzzlement, trying to remember who he was. Until his eyes seemed to light up in recognition, opening his mouth wide as he slowly uncurled his back to stand straight, easily outclassing everyone at the bar in height.
“If it isn’t the funny otherworlder. I see that Rick decided to let you in.”
”What are you doing here?!”
Frey asked quickly, moving towards the bar with speed.
“I could ask you the same. But to answer your question, I’m the bartender in my own bar.”
The doorman responded just as quickly, smiling lightly as he crossed his arms. Frey came upon the bar’s counter and sat down on one of the back-less-stools, leaning in close as he blinked rapidly, stating in bafflement.
“No but, yes, but... Who’s guarding the door!? Who’s making sure that no one else get’s into the tower?!”
The doorman raised an eyebrow, waited a second, then responded.
“No one? Oh, oh I understand. You think just about anyone can enter the tower of Embla if I’m not there to guard it?”
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Yeah!”
“They can try.”
He said with a light chuckle, turning to grab a mug and place it, to Frey, in a seemingly random location, having to bend down to do so.
“But-but-butt-fuck… What the fuck?”
The doorman ignored Frey’s dismay, focusing on whatever task he was doing. Grabbing more mugs as he, put them around at random, then grabbing one and turning back as he started filling it with beer.
“Otherworlder, this tower only lets in the chosen ones. The gate can not be opened by any mere mortal hands, so don’t worry, you’ll remain, special.”
He said with a flash of a knowing smile, turning back slightly to look at him. Frey’s own confusion reforming into a breath of relief, then turning into thinking, then to frowning, saying.
“Hey! I am special. Don’t you dare insinuate anything else.”
The doorman nodded in tune as he slowly filled up a mug of beer, staring deep into it’s frothy, delicious, smelly and presumably heavenly tasteful content. Frey licked his lips as his frown immediately disappeared, replaced by a glimmer of greed.
“Well, I’ll accept your apology if you give me a beer.”
“No can do. I don’t have an endless supply that I can just give away to otherworlders such as you. I’d be broke if I did.”
“Come on, maaan, doorman-man, Greek god-maaan, give me a break. I’ve been here for a full!... Two days? And I haven’t even drunk one alcoholic beverage! Do you know what that does to a man?”
“Five days.”
“Five days?”
“You’ve been in the tower for five days.”
“Daamn, that long? Well, not surprising though, it’s hard to tell time. Wait, how do you-?”
The doorman filled the mug completely and gently placed it in front of himself, standing in front of Frey which meant the beer was also placed in front of Frey, stopping him from asking fully as the beer grabbed the whole of Frey’s attention.
Realising he was staring, Frey shook his head and glanced up, spotting the doorman looking around for, something? Someone? Gulping, Frey’s hands tingled slightly as he said.
“Yeah yeah, but still. Five days without beer! Do you know what that does to a man? Do you?!”
“I have an idea, yes. I’m a bartender, after all.”
“A bad bartender if you can’t even give one patron but a single beer.”
Frey reached his body forward, two hands stretching out as he clasped for the beer in front. A beer pulled back by the big hands of the doorman, looking down on him with a smirk. Pulling back his arms, Frey crossed them in a very childlike manner, pouting his mouth stupidly as he raised his voice slightly.
“Why is everyone in this city such a dick?”
“Have you ever looked in a mirror? If my contacts are to be trusted, which they are, you are one hell of a guy. Not like Patrick over here.”
“Patrick?”
Frey said bewildered, as the doorman pointed to his left, Frey’s right. Looking right, Frey spotted a man wearing full knight armour, but without his helmet sitting just two seats away and facing away from the two of them. At the mention of his name, Patrick seemed to freeze up, then slowly, ever so slowly, turned to face the two of them. Frey’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, speaking silently through clenched teeth.
“Patrick.”
The name coming out like a poison through a viper, and Patrick noticed, and as his head fully turned to face them. Frey narrowed his eyes even further as he noticed how fucking good-looking Patrick actually was. Chiseled jaw, dazzling eyes and a skin that could easily be put on a manly-mans skin care product.
“Ppppatrickk”
Frey said again through even tighter teeth, grinding them against one another. Patrick smiling awkwardly, opening his mouth to speak but being interrupted by the doorman as he slid the mug towards him and pressed an elbow down in between Frey and Patrick, staring at Frey as he said.
“Now now, no fighting in this bar or I’ll have to personally drag you out.”
“Don’t look at me! It’s not my fault Patrick owes me money!”
To that, the doorman raised his eyebrows, then sighed. Lifting his elbow from the counter, he turned to face Patrick.
“Patrick, I told you to stop wasting your money on those useless bets.”
“I-I’m sorry boss. I-I-I r-really thought I’d s-s-strike it big w-with him.”
“Boss?”
Frey quickly asked, turning to look at the doorman for answers. The doorman gave Patrick a meaningful look, looking like a father wanting to scold their son, but holding back due to strangers. Instead, turning to look at Frey.
“Yeah, people in the tower started calling me boss, or the boss, and it’s stuck ever since.”
“Why? Are you the boss of something?”
The doorman, or rather “the boss” shook his head in response. And Frey tilted his head to the side in confusion.
“Then, why? Why not just call you by your name?”
“Oh-oh, I know I know! T-t-to m-make t-the pot bigger?”
Patrick responded excitedly, leaning forward as one of his hands took a firm grip around his mug of beer. Frey turning to him with a frown, making him shrug back and his smile falter immediately. The, boss though, he smiled in response, shrugging his shoulders and saying to Patrick and Frey both.
“It adds to the mystery. And making the pot bigger isn’t something to scoff at either.”
Frey blinked in disbelief, looking at the boss as the boss started to fill up yet another mug of beer, smiling slightly to himself.
“The pot?”
Frey asked confused, looking at “the boss”, then towards Patrick. Patrick gulping slightly, answering quickly.
“It-it’s a b-bet that’s been g-going on for… even before I came.”
“Bet?”
“On what t-the boss’s n-name is.”
Blinking at that, Frey wondered how to respond, a first for him, but was interrupted mid-thought as the boss glanced up at Frey and Patrick both, and said with a low voice.
“I find it funny.”
A smirk coming and leaving his face quickly, returning to a neutral, albeit very business like demenour that Frey remembered from the time he first met the man by the tower’s first gate. Staring at the boss for a moment, Frey slowly collected himself and shook his head, remembering something as Patrick took a sip of his beer beside him.
“Hey, buy me a beer.”
Patrick immediately choked on his beer, coughed loudly. And then slowly, looked up at Frey as his coughing subsided. Wiping at his mouth, he smiled awkwardly and said.
“W-what?”
“You heard me, you scoundrel. Buy me a beer.”
His eyes quickly widened as he opened his mouth, stammering, then closing it quickly without saying anything. Looking down at his beer, he seemed to. Gather confidence? As he looked back up to speak, interrupted by the boss as he easily inserted himself between the two and said whilst plucking away at his mugs.
“The beers on the house. Patrick’s a regular and I want to help him calm his nerves before the big climb.”
“WHAT!? You give Patrick a beer, but not me?!”
Raising a brow, the boss turned towards Frey and said, easily and very calmly, without a hint of exasperation or embarrassment.
“Yeah.”
Frey opened his mouth to retort, stopped himself, opened his mouth and pointed his finger up, then stopped himself again as he muttered something unhearable under his breath. Again, he crossed his arms and pouted like a child, leaning back on the back-less-chair, almost falling off due to forgetting its lacking back. Though the boss, swift like the wind, easily reached forward and above the bar, grabbing Frey by his slightly ruined color and pulled him back in.
Instead of thanking, Frey went back to sulking, crossing his arms and pouting even more, staring narrowed eyed at the deviously quick big-big man. The big-man-boss looked at him, nodded to himself, then went back to focusing on his mugs.
“You guys suck.”
Frey said with a pout.
“S-sorry.“
Patrick responded whilst the boss didn’t seem to care. Frey ignoring the apology, looking away from the two as he stared at a random patron within said bar. Staring at the man as he took a sip of his beer, clad in loose clothing and looking very civilian, albeit with clothes that looked like from an age older than which Frey came from. Whilst staring at the man drinking, Frey spoke.
“Can you guys at least tell me how you tell the time?”
“The bell!”
Patrick said enthusiastically, raising his mug as if pointing up at the ceiling, smiling slightly as he looked at Frey. A smile that vanished quickly as he saw Frey’s unimpressed expression. Lowering his mug-hand down too, seemingly try to hide behind it, taking a slight sip.
“No shit sherlock. I was wondering how you can tell when the bell’s supposed to ring?”
“Why do you want to know?”
The boss asked, pulling Frey’s attention away from the slightly squirming Patrick.
“So I can time my fights with the boss, not you doorman, and not risk anyone else taking my spot.”
The boss tilted his head in apparent confusion, staring for a few seconds at Frey in an attempt too, understand the question? Then it seemed to dawn on him as he said.
“Oh, don’t you worry bout that. There won’t be any competition for fighting the boss.”
“What, why?”
“Well, everyone knows he can’t be beaten just like that. So, no one- Or I mean, no normal person, would try to fight him without the proper preparations. Though I assume that won’t-“
“Yeah yeah, other people are pussies, not like I don’t already know that. But I still want to be the first to face the boss every day… I mean, the first bell.”
“Okay? Sure. I don’t understand why but, why not.
He then bent down, down so that even his head disappeared underneath the bar-counter and started loudly rummaging. Pulling out seemingly random trinkets and baubles, putting them up on the counter as he continued searching. Frey bent forward a little and caught the flash of a twinkle from one of the baubles, looking like a silver ring. Bending forward more, Frey reached out to grab it, then noticed Patrick staring wide eyed at him. Leaning back again, he gestured a “what” towards him and focused back on the slightly obscured boss underneath the counter, pulling his arm away.
Eventually, the boss seemed to find what he was looking for, coming up from whatever he was doing and placing the-
“CLOCK! I knew there were clocks in this tower!”
“Obviously, it’s easy enough to get one. Though they are rather useless, with the bell and all.”
“Then give me.”
Frey said, but the doorman simply shook his head, pulling back the clock that showed it was about ten before it was stowed away underneath the counter again.
“Come ooon, you can’t say something is useless than not give me!”
“Of course I can. Even if the clock is useless, the wish to get one isn’t.”
“The wish?”
“By the wishing-well.”
“But you can’t wish for a clock there!”
“You tried?”
“No?”
Frey responded quickly, looking at the boss as if searching for a way out of his own stupidity. Then spotting Patrick pulling up his shirt sleeve, revealing a wrist-clock of his own in which he, very gently, gestured with it towards Frey and said.
“Y-you can have mine.”
Raising an eyebrow at the offered clock, Frey took a second to stare at Patrick’s increasingly shifting form. Eventually he grabbed the clock and stood up from his stool, pointing down at him and stating simply, yet harshly.
“You still owe me!”
And turning away, moving towards the exit without a look behind. Though he could hear the boss chuckling warmly, a deep bassy voice that vibrated through his bones. Ignoring the sexy laughter, he moved towards the door and out of the bar. Meeting the big man and giving him an understanding clap on the shoulder. The big man turned to face Frey, smiling, then looking slightly queer as he wondered why Frey looked so, saddened for him.
“Maaan, I feel for you. Working for such a boss must be the biggest hazzle.”
The big man blinked, blinked a few more times then seemed too, pale somewhat, staring down at Frey in horror.
“What did you do?”
Stopping his patting, Frey took a step away from the big man and towards the still waiting line, hands lifted up as if surrendering to a cop, saying.
“Nothing, I promise.”
The big man didn’t seem to believe him, quickly turning to walk into the bar in slight desperation. Frey turned away and smiled slightly, softening his smile into a whistle as the people in the line gave him sideway looks. Walking away with a warm whistling tune, walking with big steps away from the crowded place. Walking towards another crowded place, filled with people and their wishes.
Walking up to the fountain and ignoring the looks, he bent down and said.
“Dildo”
Nothing happened. Shrugging his shoulders and instead saying.
“Worth a try. Anyways, food.”
And the water started to bubble, froth and squirm as the deep seemed to deepen within the fountain. Bubble and bubble until nothing could be seen. And then, a packet of a wrapped square delicately adorned with a beautiful little leaf came up.
Picking up said packet, he unceremoniously pulled loose the leaf and unwrapped the packet, seeing a piece of bread within.
“Seriously? That’s it? It’s cool and all but like, it’s barely anything.”
He said with a frown, turning to look at those near him, searching for an explanation no one would give. Repacking the wrapped food, leaving the leaf on the ground, he looked around for a place to eat. Not seeing anywhere pleasant, he knew where to go, and started walking.
Not walking far before he stopped in disdain and slight, horror. Seeing two gentlemen, one big, one small, dressed with monocles and all, walking in-sync and in-step, stopping at the same time upon seeing him.
“I see him.”
“You see him.”
“We see him.”
“That we do.”
The two said, looking at Frey as they did. They moved closer, still walking in-sync. Frey trying to walk to the side, beset and intercepted as the two changed course, making it impossible for Frey to escape.
“He moves to flee.”
“No, he just doesn’t want to hit us, you daft idiot.”
“But look at his face.”
“He must have farted.”
“That must be true.”
“Just like you.”
Frey stopped as his way was blocked by the two idiots.
“Why are you even- nevermind, can you move? I have a date I need to get to.”
“A date?”
“Is it us?”
“No idiot, we are together.”
“But he is gay.”
“I’m not gay! I’m perfectly straight, thank you very much, and my wish is to bang a harem of hot babes, so don’t even think about touching me you- foul fiends!”
Frey responded quickly, denying any accusations of being gay. The two men turned to watch each other, one looking up whilst one looking down, up and down. The two looked back at Frey. They seemed to be, perturbed, as the bigger one gott a hue of red to their cheek.
“I’m not a fiend.”
“I agree. He really is.”
“No! I am not!”
“But the special one just said that you were. How can the special money-cow be wrong?”
“He is not your money-cow, but my cash cow!”
The two spoke quickly, insinuating that Frey was something preposterous. Something Frey could not let stand as he angrily responded.
“I am not a cash cow! I’d rather be a special cash-cow than just a regular one.”
The two went silent at that, the one on the left, the big one, raising an eyebrow. The one on the right, the short one, caressing their cheeks in an attempt to rub off their bright red cheeks. Shaking off the weird wrongness Frey felt, he asked a question instead.
“Anyway, why do you even bother me?”
The two shared a look, then looked at Frey and spoke up in unison.
“He asks-“
“-Not realizing how interesting he is-“
“-but we know-“
“And it’s not everyday the tower get’s an interesting new member”
“But not special.”
“That’s true, Bob, that he is not.”
“Oookay, sure. And no, no I won’t join your weird sex games just because you call me interesting. And I’m not “joining” this tower, I’m leaving it. Apart from every other loser, I won’t let that boss- not the boss but the boss- stop me. Soooo, fuck off and bye-bye.”
Frey said with a wave of his hand, partially pushing the two aside as he pressed forward and passed them. The two not moving to stop him, one even laughing and, from the sound of it, punched the other one.
Leaving them behind, Frey muttered solemnly to himself, consoling and clapping himself, telling himself that he was, in fact, special. So don’t listen to the weird guys that are probably trying to get a taste of your fine ass. They don’t know shit, except for their exceptional taste in men, of course. For Frey did have a fine ass, and he knew it.
Walking with a slight sway to his hips, Frey moved graciously along the street. Winking at every passing woman, reveling in their lovely looks they gave him, even the dirty ones, or were they disgusted? No, that couldn’t be. Whistling on a lost tune in tune with his steps. Strolling along without a care in the world but looking down on his newly acquired clock in case time had suddenly moved several hours already.
He strolled, until he wasn’t, standing still in front of a shop of beauty. Walking up its few steps, he opened the door with a chime of a bell and shouted.
“SARA! MY LOVE! I HAVE COME-“
But stopped mid-sentence as he was greeted by the sight of Sara, and that same goblin from before. The two sitting by a table opposite one another, Sara plucking away on a guitar while the goblin seemed too, sing along? Though both went silent upon hearing him entering, the goblin having to turn around in its seat to look at him.
Blinking, Frey looked like a deer in the headlights, mouth agape as he stared weirdly down on the seated goblin. The goblin staring back with slight surprise, turning into a wide smile as it waved at him, pulling him out of his own surprise. Lifting his arm up, starkly aware of his spear strapped to his bag, he waved back, and Sara spoke up.
“Hello to you too. I see you haven’t died yet.”
“Of course not, I will never die to such a weak… enemy.”
He stated, though choosing his words as he glanced over at the goblin. The goblin seemed to light up even further at his words, speaking up giggily.
“I heard you’re still fighting the giant! That’s so cool. Most just stop after their first try, but Sara here said you’ve fought him three times already!”
“Four, axchtually.”
“FOUR! Oh my god you’re sooo cooool!”
“Please Gnomlet, don’t egg him on, he’s already gone off on the deep-end off, stupid. And it is three, not four.”
Gnomlet turned back to face Sara, speaking up before Frey could defend himself.
“I don’t think it’s stupid! I think It’s admirable.”
“Admirable? You mean to say risking your life for a stupid goal is admirable?”
“YES! Or I mean, like, not risking your life, but showing that no matter your goal, you are willing to sacrifice for it. I-I think that’s very… admirable”
The goblin said as she shyly looked behind herself, then up between eyelashes to look at Frey.
“Even if that goal is, say, wishing for a bunch of bitches?”
Sara responded quickly, turning to look at Frey with a, very unimpressed face. The goblin, still facing Frey, turned a hue of, blue, as it looked everywhere but at Frey.
“Y-y-y-yes.. E-even silly goals, if fought with enough conviction, are still cool.”
Sara sighed sweetly in response and put aside her guitar, leaning forward to gently caress the goblin’s hand resting on the table.
“That’s very sweet of you Gnomlet. Now, Frey, why are you here?”
Shoketh awake from the sudden addressing, Frey turned to gawk at Sara, pointing stupidly at himself as if asking non-verbally if it was he, she was addressing. Getting a slightly amused nod back, he smiled and said.
“Ah, but my queen, I have had the most awful day and simply seeing your wonderful visage makes my day but a ton brighter.”
“And?”
“Buh?! My queen? You think I cometh here for anything but your wonderful beauty and light!”
“Yeah? What do you want?”
“Naw come-on? Do I really seem like such a beggar?.. no wait, please don’t answer that.. or look at me like that.”
Sara smiled, showing teeth as she leaned forward on her elbows on the table, chin in her palms, looking quite dazzling.
“Can’t a man just eat his dinner with good company?”
“Sure, as longs as you’re okay with Gnomlet being here.”
Sara responded quickly, nodding her head at the gobbling sitting in front who’s face had turned back to its normal hue of, green, and showed a bright smile full of dagger-like teeth. Frey smiled back, albeit a little awkward, impossible for others to tell, and moved towards them, stating easily.
“No problem at all. Got an extra chair?”
Sara pointed with a thumb behind her, towards the door leading into her house, and Frey’s extra bedroom.
“Yeah, in the back, you can take a chair from the kitchen.”
Saluting at Sara, he quickly moved around the counter and past the slight fluttering of the doorway. In, he looked around, spotted the kitchen by the end of the stairway, and moved towards it. Within, he spotted a perfectly modern, normal, kitchen. It wasn’t big, nor was it small. It could contain several people comfortably, but it wasn’t lavish or stupidly big. Hell, the bathroom was probably bigger. Looking around, he spotted what he assumed to be the fridge. Nope, it was the freezer. Walking to the other one, he opened it and looked within. Immediately spotting several bottles of what he assumed to be beers.
Did Frey ever wonder how a freezer or a fridge could work in a, so far, electric-less tower? He did not even give it a slimmer of a thought as he pulled out three bottles of beer with a goofy smile. Next, he awkwardly stuffed the very cold beers within the crevice of his armpit with a shiver and grabbed one of the chairs, easily holding it above his head with one arm.
Shuffling quickly, as to not prolong his cold suffering, he made it out to the shop proper and said aloud.
“He cometh to bringeth bread to thine people!”
Putting down the chair and quickly unloading the bottles of beer onto the table, he sat down with a grunt and ruffled through his bag for his wrapped packet of food. Sara looked down at the beers, then frowning up at Frey.
“Did I tell you to get that?”
“Hm? Ah, no, you didn’t, but I thought a feast is nothing without a proper drink, right?”
“Maybe, but we have a minor in our presence.”
“Minor? You mean the go-“
“Frey…”
“-I meant to say. Come on, Sara, who cares if they get a beer or two? Not like anyone will mind.”
“I will mind, Frey. Gnomlet is too young.”
“Pffffft fine. We two can simply share a drink instead.”
“No, I will not share a drink if Gnomlets left out.”
“I’m okay with it, Sara! I don’t mind.”
“See? Even the goblin is okay with it, so why you gotta be such a prude, Sara?
“Frey…”
She simply said with ill hidden seething in her voice, shocking both Frey and Gnomlet. Then she bent forward, grabbed all the beer and turned around, moving out of the room, leaving Frey and Gnomlet in an, awkward position.
Frey glanced over at the goblin, seeing it glance at him, the two immediately glancing away as their eyes met. The goblin starting to whistle, whistle awfully, and Frey cringed slightly. Whilst listening to the awful tune, he unwrapped his, sandwich? And set about eating it.
As he did, the goblin stopped whistling, and he turned to see why. Spotting it staring at him, stopping staring as he looked, looking away with a slight hue of blue on its face. Through a mouth full of bread, Frey spoke up.
“Whnat ah piehce?
“Ah! Uh, No, but thank you, residents can’t eat otherworlder food.”
Frey blinked in response, then shrugged his shoulder and said something through another mouth full of food, unrecognizable as human speech. The goblin didn’t seem to take it as such either, simply smiling as she looked down on the table, down at her, hands? Frey leaned back a little to get a better look, realizing that the goblin was fiddling with its thumbs. Leaning back further, further so that only two legs of the chair held his weight, he looked away from the goblin and up at the ceiling.
The two in an awkward silence, one that Frey didn’t even try to break, simply smacking away loudly on his piece of weirdly delicious bread.
“Soooo, whsuch’s mesch”
Frey tried saying, wanting desperately to break the awkward tension, only managing to muffle out inhuman and weird sounds that the goblin didn’t even take for speech. Frey, not realizing, only staring expectantly at the goblin, waiting for a response. A response that came, but not in the way he had anticipated.
“Ehm, Frey. Can I ask you a question?”
“Shrurer”
The two sharing a moment of silence, both waiting for the other to speak. Frey slowly realizing that his “sure” probably came out incoherent, and quickly swallowed to repeat.
“Ahem, sure”
“Then, uhm, how... are you not scared?”
Shaking his head in surprise, Frey’s eyebrows narrowed slightly as he froze in his seat. A bad move that made him unbalanced and almost fall backwards. Managing through flailing arms to regain it and fall down on all fours, all fours of his chair, he quickly asked.
“What?”
“I mean, when you face the giant. It seems so, scary.”
“Whaaat? What do you mean, scared? Of course I aint scaared- pfffffft. Me? Scared? AS if-“
Frey started, interrupted as the goblin shoved its chair back with a loud clatter and stood up, eyes glimmering as it moved its face closer to his, practically screaming.
“REALLY?! You aren’t scared?!”
“Wuh, uh, no?”
“Wow! For real?! You’re so cool!”
She said to Freys, total surprise. He blinked and stared at it, then blinked more as its face practically shone in delight and wonder. It then opened its mouth to continue speaking, sounding like a child speaking to their hero.
“Like, I mean, my dream is to climb the tower. But I don’t think I could ever climb it alone, that’s too scary. That’s why I’m waiting for Gnomeo. We’re gonna climb the tower together. Oh, I can’t wait! Do you know-“
The goblin rambled on excitedly, Frey staring on in slight, horror and major confusion, wondering why the big goblin was bleeding its heart out in front of Frey. Though, getting called cool wasn’t something he could take without smiling brightly. So Frey held a strange expression on his face, partially glad, partially weirded out, partially tired from the goblin’s seemingly endless tirade of speaking excitedly.
At the corner of his eye, he noticed something moving. Turning to see what, he spotted Sara standing by the doorway, leaning against it and holding a beer. She spotted him spotting her, winked, then pushed a finger over her mouth, and took a gulp.
Frey hated how sexy she looked doing that.