The bus ride was uneventful. The gang of three stood in the middle of the bus, watching people get on and off at different stops. Most passengers stuck to their phones and other devices and only made enough of a glance to prevent tripping when entering the bus. Aaron was the only one in the group not tall enough to grab one of the straps hanging from above, but the dwarf kept a stable base, and the swaying bus was easy to handle. The only passenger to pay them any mind was a kid satyr who tried kicking Aaron—the dwarf kicked the kid back and got the evil eye from the kid’s mother.
“If looks could kill…” Tommy chuckled as the mother took her kid to a row of seats farther away.
When they arrived at their stop, the three waited for everyone to get off, then exited the bus and waited to see if anyone would rush to get off, too. No one rushed off, and the bus rolled away to its next stop without incident.
The city looked much different here. It was dirty, old, and unkempt. Something was here in this part of town, like an aura of sorts, that filled the air and let you know you were no longer in the high side of the city.
“We are almost home,” Tommy said happily as he quickly strode down the block.
Aaron followed cautiously but noticed Swift did not move at all. “Hold up, Tommy.”
Tommy stopped and looked back. “What’s up?”
Swift provided a series of hand and arm movements that Aaron guessed was the orc explaining himself. The dwarf looked back at Tommy and shrugged.
“What’s going on, my orc?” Tommy asked as he approached Swift and Aaron. “You worried about something?”
Swift once again pulled out the child’s book and flipped through the thick cardboard pages. He opened the book to a page that displayed a few orc children playing a game in a grassy field with fruit trees and bushes. The text over the picture said, See Jonny hide. Jonny is so great at hiding. Swift pointed to a tree with a little orc boy peeking from behind.
“You need to hide?” Asked Tommy. “Why do you need to hide?”
Swift made many more quick gestures and movements. His facial features were serious, intense, and his movements almost spastic. He quickly flipped to another page in the book. This one had marker and crayon scribbled on it, and nearly half the picture was torn out. The part of the picture that remained had a bear variant, standing tall as if ready to attack. The text above the torn picture read, See Jonny be brave.
Tommy looked to Aaron, unsure what to make of this. Aaron spoke, “The only bear creatures in the city are in the zoo. You don’t have to worry about those things around here.”
“Maybe it’s not about the bear. Maybe he’s saying he must be brave and hide from a threat like the bear—like the bear is a sort of metaphor. Is that right, Swift?”
“I think you mean simile,” Aaron responded.
Swift’s actions were erratic, and they could not tell if their guesses were accurate in the orc’s attempt to communicate.
“Wait, you want to go back on the bus?” Tommy asked as Swift pointed emphatically at the bus stop.
The orc shook his head hard—he did not want to go back on the bus. Swift looked around and then spied something else and pointed repeatedly at it.
“Are you pointing to the birds over there?” Asked Tommy.
“Nope, maybe those trees in the sidewalk,” Aaron suggested.
“No… is it the building?”
“Oh, we’re close. Something to do with the building. The wall? No… The windows? No…”
“Is it the clock?”
Swift clapped excitedly and held out four fingers.
“Four clocks?” Tommy asked.
“No, four o’clock.”
Swift pointed to Aaron to confirm the time. The orc again pointed to the bus stop and then to all three of them standing there.
“Hold on, I think I got this,” Aaron said. “There’s something dangerous here, and you need to hide from it. So you’re going to hide, and we should plan on meeting back here at four. Sound about right?”
The orc clapped again and nodded excitedly.
Swift’s excitement was contagious, and Aaron elbowed Tommy in the thigh. “I think I’m getting the hang of this.”
The orc happily bowed, made some hand gestures, and then sped away.
“I’m getting a fetid fluorite smell that we’re being played by the orc,” Aaron muttered as he watched Swift disappear around the corner of a building.
“Nah, that’s just me, buddy,” Tommy replied, slapping Aaron on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up and figure out our next move.”
They walked a couple blocks down the road. A few people waved at Tommy and either complimented his new no-pants style or (if they got close enough) told him to take a shower. They were all smiles and crazy handshakes, but none acknowledged Aaron. The dwarf preferred it this way; he didn’t feel like interacting with any of them.
They approached one of the older houses with dirty, beige stucco walls. Cracks in the stucco spider-webbed through different spots of the wall, and the lattice underneath could be seen where parts of the wall had fallen off. Tommy knocked firmly on the door a few times and waited.
A slot opened, and a pair of eyes looked down at Aaron, then up at Tommy. Tommy smiled. “Que pasa, mi amigo!”
The slot closed, a series of locks were heard unlocking, and then the door opened to reveal a Latino human greeting Tommy in his preferred language and welcoming Tommy into the home. The doorman clasped Tommy and gave him a quick hug before backing up and rattling off while waving his hand in front of his face. Aaron was pretty sure the doorman was addressing Tommy’s stench.
Tommy laughed and responded in the same language, pointing upstairs and then at Aaron.
The dwarf could not help but smile at his friend. Aaron found it incredible how easily Tommy seemed to pick up and learn languages. Aaron did not have that talent, but Molly did. The thought of Molly cast a shadow over the dwarf, and Aaron quickly pushed his shades deep in his face, then sunk deep into his trenchcoat, waiting impatiently for the introductions to finish.
“Aaron, this is Jose,” Tommy finally said while turning to the dwarf. “He’s going to keep you company while I head upstairs and clean up.”
Jose nodded to Aaron, and Aaron returned the gesture.
“Alright!” Tommy clapped his hands together. “I will see you two when I’m done.”
As Tommy headed up the stairs, Jose held out his hand, indicating that Aaron should walk to the back of the house where the kitchen was located. Once in the kitchen, Aaron was guided to sit in one of the four vinyl chairs surrounding a small, rickety faux-wood table.
Jose pulled a beer out of the fridge, popped the top off, and casually leaned against the counter. The human then said something as if offering Aaron a beer.
“You got anything stronger?” Aaron asked.
Jose rattled off some words that Aaron didn’t know, but one word he did recognize was tequila. The dwarf perked up—that tequila and cerveza were the extent of the dwarf’s handle in the language. “Tequila?”
“Que?”
“Te-qui-la?” Aaron repeated slowly.
Jose laughed and then rattled off more words while he dug inside the fridge. He pulled out a plastic bottle with clear liquid and tossed it to Aaron. The dwarf fumbled slightly with the catch but managed to pin the bottle between his arms and chest. Getting the bottle in hand, the dwarf held it up to the light and looked at its clear contents suspiciously.
“Te-qui-la.” Jose repeated slowly.
Aaron eyed Jose with the same suspicion as the bottle. Throwing caution aside, the dwarf quickly unscrewed the bottle and guzzled its contents. It had been so long since he had the sweet taste of liquor kiss his parched tongue. Tequila was not his drink of choice, but when in—hold on! This is not tequila!
Aaron gagged and spewed out the water that had filled his mouth and cheeks while Jose nearly fell off the counter, laughing hysterically at the dwarf.
“You gave me water!?” Aaron snapped.
“Agua!” Jose laughed and laughed.
The dwarf sneered at the revolting joke played upon him by the human scoundrel. This is why you can never trust humans. They were the least predictable creatures on the planet. Aaron remembered some historical trivia about how humans used to only live for a hundred years at best and then died. That was a long time ago—now, humans live just as long as elves and dwarves and everyone else. Aaron felt it was a shame they didn’t die off sooner.
Jose rattled off something else, and Aaron caught Tommy’s name in the mix of foreign words. That’s when he remembered his promise to Tommy. Aaron cursed that promise under his breath as he realized Tommy had probably told this human not to serve the dwarf any alcohol. Leering at Jose, Aaron took a swig of water, then placed the bottle on the table while doing his best to not make a sour face at the terrible taste that accompanied water. Aaron could not understand how anyone could stand the taste of liquid without even a hint of fermentation.
Jose calmed down his laughing and continued to talk as he left the kitchen to check on something in another room. The dwarf flipped open his Hacklet to busy his mind with distractions from the anger of being duped and the anger of nearly breaking a promise to his friend.
The three gnomes in question were on his Hacklet screen. Each had a different purchase date, and each had been marked as receiving a defunct product. An idea struck Aaron, and he cursed himself for not noticing this earlier. The problem with the boss’s gnome was that the hat couldn’t come off and that it supplied an infinite amount of tequila. –Aaron soured his face while looking at the half-empty water bottle; it was too soon to be thinking about tequila.
Under the defunct product specifics, all three were noted to have poured an excess amount of tequila; one poured below-grade tequila, and the other two had non-temporary attunement conditions. Non-temporary sounded like permanent, which was how long the hat was stuck on the gnome’s head. Aaron was also sure Tommy had said the tequila was good and high-grade. So that should rule out one of the three. Now, to figure out which one of the two was the gnome they were looking for… “Hey, Jose!”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Yo, yo, yo. Que pasa?” Jose strolled into the kitchen, taking a swig of his cerveza.
“Have you seen either of these guys before?”
Jose shrugged and shook his head.
“Do you know when your boss got that gnome?”
Jose twisted his face and shook his head.
“Do you know when—bah! Hold on.” Aaron pulled up a browser on his Hacklet and typed in: Translate: Do you know when your boss got that gnome?
The translated words scrolled across the screen as they were typed, and Jose read them curiously. He thought for a moment, then answered Aaron’s question.
“No,” Aaron waved and pointed at the Hacklet. “I need you to type your answer. Here.”
Jose acknowledged and began typing. As Jose typed, Aaron made a mental note that he should try something like this with Swift next time they have a serious conversation.
The boss never had either of those gnomes.
“Ignore these two gnomes on the screen,” Aaron spoke as he typed. “How long has your boss had the gnome who escaped?”
Jose had a quizzical look before typing his response. I don’t know about escaped gnome. What are you talking about?
Aaron’s breath caught in his throat as his mind raced. If Jose didn’t know about the gnome, was he not supposed to know? The dwarf quickly attempted some mental gymnastics to try and figure out a quick method for backtracking this. Blaming it on the translator was the first thing that came to mind.
As Aaron started typing on his Hacklet, Jose laughed loud and hard. The human pointed to Aaron’s head while laughing and slapped the table a couple times, too. Aaron began to get the impression this human punked him again. Aaron gritted his teeth in smoldering anger; by the stone, this human would not get him a third time.
Aaron slammed the Hacklet closed and opened his mouth to deliver a verbal beat down when the back door to the kitchen suddenly slammed open. Jose drew a handgun from the small of his back in the same instant and began yelling at the person who entered. The other person yelled back in the same language. Jose, weapon still aimed at the intruder, yelled and rambled some more. The new guy, who looked to be a half-elf, spouted out a bunch of words as he dragged a bound, skinny, green-skinned, wretched-looking creature wearing a loin cloth and a hood. Aaron cocked his head to the side, thinking this couldn’t be a coincidence that two green-skins were running around this side of town in a loin cloth.
The half-elf pulled the hood off the green-skin, yelling and pointing to the revealed face. While the two gangsters shouted at each other, Aaron crouched down and looked Swift in the eyes, “What in the depths have you done now?”
Swift’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. He shrugged and struggled against the restraints that kept his hands tied behind his back. The orc looked up to Aaron; his eyes were pleading for help.
The half-elf stepped between Swift and Aaron, shaking his head and waving his hands while talking in his language. He placed the hood back over the orc’s head, looked at Jose, and said, “Yolo.”
They debated back and forth some more, saying Yolo a few more times and another word Aaron recognized. “Jefe.” Aaron tried his best to remember what that word meant.
“What’s all the ruckus, guys?” Tommy strolled into the kitchen. He had a towel over his shoulders and was still drying his hair. His massive frame seemed to fill the entryway to the kitchen. “Is there a party getting started without me?”
Jose quickly rambled off what was happening, waving his handgun around and using it as a pointer for the things he was talking about. The half-elf pulled out his phone and started dialing a number.
“Hold on, hold on,” Tommy said while placing a hand over the half-elf’s phone. The island elf spoke in their language and held a very cautious stance. He moved carefully into the middle of the kitchen, taking in everything while conversing with his fellow gangsters. Even though the tone of Tommy’s voice remained casual, Tommy could tell the large island elf was tense and positioning himself to be ready for a fight.
Yolo was mentioned again, and Tommy shook his head no. He said a few other things, likely providing some alternatives for the two gangsters to consider. The bronze elf shot a sideways glance at Aaron, and he wasn’t smiling. Tommy always smiled—whatever they were talking about, it wasn’t good. Aaron picked up his bottle of water but was not about to let that flavorless liquid touch his mouth.
Jose spoke louder at Tommy, waving his pistol for emphasis. The half-elf kicked Swift when the orc started to move, which prompted Tommy to speak a warning to the half-elf. Tommy’s voice was low and carried the weight of pain and violence. The half-elf hesitated, but the human stepped up to Tommy. Even though Tommy was a head taller than Jose, the human refused to be intimated by the island elf. Jose said something else in a low tone, and though it may have been a threat, his voice did not carry the same weight. The human gangster tapped his pistol on Tommy’s chest and said one more word that Aaron recognized as an insult. “Puta.”
Tommy grabbed Jose’s wrist (the same appendage holding the handgun) and twisted it down. Jose yelled out in pain and fired. The half-elf jumped and drew a knife, pointing at Tommy.
Aaron (Crackshot) vs. A1 Falcon – 4 vs. 2 Aaron succeeds.
The dwarf aimed and squeezed his water bottle, spraying water in the half-elf’s face and causing the gangster to stumble back. Aaron charged and successfully slammed the small gangster against the wall and counter. The wall caved, and the half-elf dropped his knife from the impact. The gangster punched wildly at the dwarf’s back while Aaron landed a few solid hits to his opponent's stomach.
Something snapped, and Jose screamed. Aaron glanced over to see the human gangster crumpled to the ground with Tommy standing cooly over the limp body. In that moment of looking to the side, Aaron failed to maintain his advantage, and the half-elf hurled himself against the dwarf. Aaron took a step back to keep his balance, but his ankle got twisted in Swift’s legs, causing the dwarf and half-elf to tumble to the kitchen floor.
The half-elf was on top of Aaron, with his hands around the dwarf’s neck. But a dwarf’s neck is thick, and the half-elf’s hands were small. Despite the half-elf’s desperate attempt to strangle Aaron, the dwarf couldn’t help but laugh at the predicament. “You sorry vein of pyrite. You should have run when you had the chance.”
A thud was heard from above, and the half-elf fell to the floor, unconscious. Standing overhead was Swift, the skinny orc, holding the half-elf’s knife. Swift offered a hand to Aaron and helped the dwarf to his feet.
“You okay, buddy?” Tommy asked while unloading and disassembling Jose’s pistol.
“Yeah,” Aaron replied, dusting off his trenchcoat. “Just pissed that little coprolite got the better of me. By the way, thanks, Swift.”
Swift nodded and made a few extra hand gestures.
"So what just happened?” Aaron asked Tommy. “I couldn’t understand a fel thing that was said amongst all of you.”
Tommy sighed. “Apparently, our friend Swift is wanted by the boss.”
The orc shrugged sheepishly and shuffled his feet.
“It seems Swift is a matcher, a really good one at that.” Tommy placed a couple of pistol pieces in the freezer above the fridge. “However, it sounds like Swift set up the boss with a match that was supposed to be big but ended up being a really bad loss.”
Swift quickly began to explain what happened through a variety of hand and arm movements, but Tommy motioned for the orc to stop. “Don’t worry, little orc. I’ve got you.”
“Why?” Aaron still felt lost in the conversation despite having Tommy around to speak common language.
“They were going to call Yolo. Yolo is bad business.”
“I heard them talk about Yolo and Heffay, and I think that Jose guy called you a poota?”
Tommy laughed. Aaron felt he could breathe a little better when he saw the smile come back to his face. The island placed a couple more pistol pieces in a cabinet, then tossed the rest down the hall. “Good job picking up on some of the words. Did you pick up what any of them mean?”
“If I remember right, heffay means boss. If that’s right, then it sounds like Yolo is the name for your boss or maybe someone who works closely with your boss. Also, it sounds like poota is something you say when you want to offend someone.”
Tommy had about half a dozen nine-millimeter rounds that he shook around in his hand, trying to decide what to do with them. “Yeah, puta is something you say to offend somebody. Jefe does mean boss, but Yolo is not the boss.”
Swift made some more hand and arm gestures. The orc looked very insistent in his movements.
Tommy picked up the phone that had been held by the half-elf. “Yolo is a troll. Unfortunately, he’s the kind of troll that really fits the stereotype. He’s mean and nasty, and he holds grudges longer than his intervals between baths. I don’t think he’s ever had a bath in his life. He kills for fun, and he would have killed Swift without a thought.”
Swift was moving more urgently now and tapped Aaron on the chest a few times. Aaron was annoyed with the orc’s interruption but remembered his crazy idea. The dwarf flipped open his Hacklet and typed a few words: Type here what you’re trying to say.
“Yolo is not the boss,” Tommy continued as he examined the phone. “But that troll is as close as anyone in the gang gets to the boss. There are rumors Yolo has eyes for the throne, but…”
As Tommy looked curiously at the phone, Aaron turned to see what Swift had written on his Hacklet.
RUN Coppos ComIN@
“Hey, buddy,” Tommy said questioningly. Aaron had to look at his Hacklett again to ensure he read it correctly. “I don’t think Cortez called Yolo.”
“Tommy,” Aaron positioned himself so his friend could read the Hacklett. “I think we need to get out of here. Now.”
Tommy squinted at the words, and then his eyes grew wide as he looked at Aaron. “Cortez called the cops!”
Glass broke from a nearby window as a flashbang grenade flew into the kitchen and rolled across the floor.
“Grenade!!” Aaron yelled.
Tommy and Aaron both jumped away from the grenade, diving for cover. However, Swift ran to the grenade, swinging his arms and waving his hands fiercely.
Swift has activated The Hero’s Die. Swift (Shamanic Magic + The Hero’s Die) vs. Impossible DT Swift experiences SUCCESS. Swift is granted narrative control.
The blinding flash released from the grenade but halted prematurely as if time stopped and contained the bubble of light that threatened to finish its explosive design.
Aaron turned slowly and looked at the orc, who was struggling to keep the light contained. Looking around, Aaron realized the time bubble wasn’t contained just around the grenade but around the whole house. Tommy was still falling from his dive. Cops were just starting to breach the doors. Even though Aaron moved slow, he was still much faster than everything else around him.
The orc looked over his shoulder at Aaron and yelled a long, mournful noise. Even though the noise did not contain words, the dwarf remembered the first word of the typed message on his Hacklet: RUN.
Time spells were some of the most powerful spells that could be cast, and Swift just used his Hero’s Die to cast a time spell—the spell would have been impossible for him without that dice. Aaron felt the pain and betrayal that accompanied the use of these dice, but it was more muted than usual—perhaps it was due to the effects of the time spell. Regardless, the dwarf knew that despite the spell, time was something they had very little of. The orc used the spell to give Aaron a chance to escape, and that’s just what the dwarf did.
Aaron scrambled to his feet and ran out the back kitchen door. He ducked under the rifles of the cops just outside the door and bolted to the backyard of the next house over. As he ran, Aaron noticed a worn, over-stuffed shoulder bag on the ground. He was sure this shoulder bag belonged to Swift and snatched it up as he escaped the gangsters’ compromised home.
The time bubble suddenly shrank, and from a distance, Aaron could hear the shouts of the law enforcement officers raiding the house. The dwarf was several blocks away now; hopefully, too far to be considered an accomplice. Still, the shouts and commands seemed to echo in his ears, and his lungs suddenly became too full of air, as if he could breathe enough bad air out, and his lungs had no room to breathe fresh air in. He stumbled, grabbed the side of a wall for support, but his legs gave out, and the dwarf sat down hard on the ground. The cops were still screaming, shouting in his head, pointing the handguns and rifles, threatening Tommy, his only friend. He left Tommy. Tommy was in trouble, and Aaron left him!
The dwarf tried to scream, but his lungs and throat could only produce a hoarse growl. Aaron quickly began to dig through Swift’s shoulder bag. He needed a drink, a smoke, a hit—something—anything! He dumped the bag’s contents onto the ground and scattered them in the desperate hope of finding something to help him manage the pain and betrayal that were taking hold of his soul. But the cursed orc had nothing but a moldy muffin, shriveled jerky, some stuffed animals, the child’s book, and a few other odds and ends. Aaron cursed and struck the ground with his fists.
Hist fist clipped the child’s book, and it opened to a page Swift had shared with Aaron before. The dwarf stared at the little orc boy, peeking out from behind a tree—it was almost as if the little boy was looking directly at him. He read the text: See Jonny hide. Jonny is so great at hiding.
“Fuck, Jonny,” Aaron growled. He picked up the odds and ends dumped from the bag and did his best to stuff them all back in. The child’s book was the last thing left to cram into the bag, but Aaron first flipped to the last cardboard page of the book.
The simple picture showed the orc boy standing on a hill with his back turned to the reader. To one distant side was a small orc encampment. On the other side, where the orc boy was looking, there was a forest and mountains. The text read: Jonny has learned the rites of the tribe’s ordeal. Jonny is ready to begin his journey to become a man of the tribe.
Aaron closed the book and pushed it hard into the bag. “Jonny’s a fracking milkstone.”
The dwarf was familiar with the police district that covered this part of town. He knew where the cops would take Tommy and Swift. However, Aaron also knew he would need help breaking them out of jail and that he would need to do it fast. The sun was still hanging brightly in the sky, and though this was not a pleasurable feature, it reminded Aaron that he had time to do something crazy. He sniffed loudly then spit hard--trying to alleviate the sour taste of craving haunting his insides. Resolving to keep his promise, the dwarf got to work searching for the one person he knew would have the resources available to help him break Tommy and Swift out of jail.