“What on earth is that stench?”
Joe cussed, hiding his face within herb filled cloth.
“Stench? Ah, sorry boss. Can’t hold them forever.”
Savile’s tail twitched shamelessly as another charge left its chamber. As far as they could digest anything, it wasn’t without side effects. Still, that wasn’t what he choked on.
“What? I am not talking about your farts. Can’t you feel it? That sweet, putrid smell?”
“Oh, that? Yeah. It does stink.”
The armored woman paused and made a show out of sniffing the air.
“They’re burning bodies.”
“What?”
“That village. See those pyres boss? They’re getting rid of their dead.”
Joe strained his eyes at something that could be a column of black smoke or perhaps a patch of stormy clouds on the horizon. No way in hell he could see more without some serious binoculars. Wait… She could see that? How? He shielded his face with his hand and strained his lowly human squints. Well, the distance did hide something where his knight pointed.
“You’re telling me you can see that from here? I call bullshit on that.”
“Um, I can see that too.”
“Yeah, me too, mastah.”
“Why would they do that? Were they attacked?”
One by one, all his freshly minted dark elves began pointing at something. Resigned, Joe swapped his dangly bits for the spare pair of milk jugs he held in his body bag and scanned the horizon. To his surprise, now he too could see a rather formidable pyre blazing by something that must have been a city gate.
“I’ll be darn…”
“Told you so, boss.”
Savile slapped his shapely elven butt and continued trudging on through the sand, towards the column of smoke.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“I’ll be darn.”
Joe shook his head, then swapped back to his unshaven self. He had too much to think about to deal with any additional, bouncy distractions.
All in all, it took them ten uneventful hours of wandering through the sand and stomping occasional monsters before they reached the city outskirts. Well, given its size, a village perhaps.
“A plague, huh?”
His shameless tin-can announced after studying a broken flag post. It still held the remnants of a black plague-flag that was supposed to ward off any potential visitors.
“We should not be here. We might…”
*DING!*
Effects of despairing death cannot be applied! Blocked by the favor of the one which dwells in the dark. You are now immune!
“That’s… convenient. Joe, I must say I’m starting to warm up to the idea of having a patron deity.”
Perhaps he would agree if not for the quest notification window that covered his entire view. It was one of those yes – yes quests he had no desire to take. Especially since the quest giver was of the vengeful kind. Regardless, he pushed the yes button and moved on.
“Come on you lot. We have a case of divine retribution to partake in.”
Mumbling under his breath, Joe marched towards the village center where his map showed a gathering of potential survivors. Or otherwise, people he would have to deal with.
***
“What a shithole… can’t believe they sent us here.”
“That’s what you get for raping those nuns. Can’t believe they let you go with you dick still attached.”
“First off, I haven’t raped anyone. All of them came to me begging to have my magic wand shoved in them and secondly, they were novices not nuns.”
“Well, you got five of them baking a cake. All five were dismissed by the temple.”
“Not my problem that some dumb bitch can’t take care of her own shit.”
“You say that every single time. “
“That scumbag probably has kids in every temple. Ain’t you afraid that one of those days you’ll end up doing your own daughter?”
“A hole is a hole.”
All five of the holy knights laughed. Perhaps if they didn’t laugh so loudly, they would notice the sound of a vial breaking at the center of their group. Perhaps if they weren’t laughing so hard, they would not breathe in such a big dose of the scentless gas the vial released.
***
In a certain white office, a white phone rang. What an oddity. There shouldn’t be anyone who knows this number.
“HELLO?”
Death decided to answer after a long while of repeated ringing.
“JOE? HOW DID YOU GET THIS NUMBER? A SKILL? I SEE. YES, I DO HAVE SOME BUSINESS THERE. ARE YOU INTENDING TO IMPEDE MY WORK AGAIN? NO? HOW CURIOUS. THEN WHY ARE YOU CALLING? MY WHAT? YES, I DO HAVE IT. YES, THAT SPIKE IS STILL AS BLUNT AS EVER. WHY WOULD YOU NEED SUCH A RUSTY OLD THING? THE GOD OF VENGEANCE? EVEN SO, I THINK IT IS STILL TOO EXCESSIVE. A QUEST YOU SAY? TRUE, AS A NECROMANCE YOU INDEED ARE PRIVY TO A RANGE OF SERVICES I AM OBLIGED TO PROVIDE YOU WITH BUT KEEP IN MIND THAT WILL STILL COST YOU. HOW MUCH? NOT A PRICE A MORTAL LIKE YOU COULD AFFORD. NO, I AM NOT TRYING TO PUNISH YOU FOR THAT SILLY GAME WE HAD. THAT SPIKE IS RESERVED FOR SPECIAL CASES AND SPECIAL CASES ONLY. YOURS IS NOT SO SPECIAL. A SIMPLE INSTANCE OF SPIRITING AWAY THE OFFENDERS SHOULD SUFFICE TO FULFILL THE NEEDS OF YOUR QUEST. HOW? WELL, I MAY TEACH YOU HOW TO ASSEMBLE AND OPEN A SPIRITUAL GATE BUT THAT WILL COST YOU. HOW MUCH? HOW DOES A REMATCH SOUND TO YOU?”