FIFTEEN: STRANGLEHOLD

“You sure you don’t want me to carry you?” said Finn as he turned around, Biscuit moving her furry body to match.

“No!” Lars wheezed as he tried to catch up. “Though could you slow down a little, kid?”

“Why?” Finn frowned. “I’m walking at a perfectly normal pace. You may not remember this, Lars, but I don't exactly get to walk at a normal pace very often. I am in a wheelchair. Or was, maybe? Either way, I think I should enjoy it. Shouldn’t I, Biscuit?”

The capybara looked up at Finn with her glassy eyes, exposing a pink bow Lars hadn’t noticed before, then she made a motion with her head that looked suspiciously like a nod.

“What the…” Lars shook the thought away. “Fine, kid. I guess I can jog. I mean, I hate jogging, so the civil thing to do would be to slow down, but...”

Finn glanced down at Biscuit. “You sure you don’t want to ride? I don’t think she’ll mind.”

Lars debated the offer for a half second. His legs tingled with exhaustion. Plus, there was this weird red flash every few seconds at the edge of his vision. That couldn't be good. As the half second of thought shifted into a full second, he could have sworn he saw the capybara shake her head from side to side.

“No... I think I can jog.”

Finn shrugged. “Whatever.”

As Lars set his small body into motion, he looked around the quaint town they were passing through. It was mostly single-story buildings, made of wood with thatched roofs. They looked like the huts straight out of the opening sequence of Robin Hood: Men in Tights, though it wasn't night and there were no flaming arrows. The people walking by him gave off a similar vibe. Most were wearing drab tunics made of the same material as his only piece of clothing, complete with the iconic tights Mel Brooks had garbed his Merry Men in. The road beneath his feet looked like it was mostly dirt, but he could see the outline of cobblestones beneath the dirt when lifted his feet to take another step. And there were horses. People riding horses. Horses pulling carts. Horses doing horse things.

And since there were horses doing horse things, there was also shit. Lots of shit.

Horse shit.

In fact, Lars spent most of his jog zig-zagging around the heaps of dung. From the few trips he had been lucky enough to take to the somewhere in timeless Mackinac Island as a kid, he had heard the locals call them road apples, which made a whole hell of a lot more sense now that he was seeing them up close and personal. To a normal sized person, those road apples were an inconvenience. To Lars, at a foot and a half tall, they were full-blown land mines.

As he literally trudged through the onslaught of horse shit that was his life now, the flashes at the edge of his vision got brighter—and quicker. He called out to Finn, “Hey kid?”

Finn stopped dead in his tracks, and was nearly run over by a man pushing a wooden wheelbarrow filled with yet even more horse shit.

“Get out of the fuckin’ way, pig!” the man barked with a West Country twinge.

Finn gasped. “Hey! Don't talk to Biscuit that way!”

The man laughed deep and full, flashing decayed teeth and gums. “Ha! Biscuit! Is that what you named that deformed dog? Biscuit? Being deformed and owned by a bloody orc is punishment enough, and you have to go give that poor animal a dumb name like that. For fuck’s sake, piggy. That’s plain cruel.” He dropped the handles of the wheelbarrow and jabbed Finn in the chest with a crooked finger. “And I was talking to you, by the by! We don’t like having your kind here in Stranglehold! You best be leaving pig, and quick.”

“How dare you talk to me like that NPC!” Finn snapped. He stared daggers at the man, a blank expression on his face, then he reached for the hilt sticking out of his belt. “You're lucky I haven't found the quick save feature yet. Though, I bet I could use the XP. I should…”

Down below, Lars noticed the locals gathering around to watch the exchange. It was tough to gauge which side the villagers were on, but based on the nods and the similarly toothless grins, he guessed they probably felt the same way as the shit cart man.

“Finn,” he said with genuine concern in his voice. “I think we should—”

Before he could finish his words, Biscuit let out a little bark, then turned to Lars and blinked with one eye. No, that wasn’t the right word for it. The oversized rodent... winked at him. It actually winked at him. Then, she opened her mouth until Lars could see the entire length of her curved upper teeth, and bit into shit cart man's leg.

***

The surrounding crowd erupted with laughter, then just as quickly went back about their business as if nothing had happened.

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“You!” bellowed shit cart man. “Your mangy mutt bit me!”

“Serves you right for being a racist,” Finn retorted. He bent down to pet Biscuit and gave her a rub on the head. “You’re a very good capybara, aren’t you schweetums?”

Biscuit tolerated the heavy petting for exactly three seconds, then turned to look at Lars and gave him a look that said, Will you, like, get a load of this guy or whatever?

“Weird,” said Lars. He stuck a finger in his ear and tried to wiggle out the strange vibration. He gave Biscuit a sideways glance, then looked up to see shit cart man cocking back a bony fist. “Watch out!”

Finn ducked the weak attempt at a haymaker with ease. Shit cart man, having over punched his balance, fell face first into his wheelbarrow full of horse shit with a wet plop. Biscuit let out a series of barks that had an uncanny resemblance to a maniacal laugh, then bit shit cart man in the leg—again.

“Yow!” he howled as he spat literal shit in Lars' direction. A particularly earthy piece landed on the gnomes' bare feet.

“Now you’ve done it, old man!" Lars squeaked. “I’m gonna teach you not to punch… uh, down a weight class!”

“I can't believe me eyes! A gnome! The weirdest looking fucking gnome I’ve ever seen in my life!” snapped shit cart man as he wiped steaming dung from his eyes. “Your kind is worse than the piggies! You know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna run and get the Sheriff and have her stretch your necks for abusing an elder! That’s what I’m gonna—”

“Causing trouble again, are we, Dungbarrow?” said an authoritative female voice from a nearby alley. “Were you about to report yourself this time or…”

“No, Sheriff!” said Dungbarrow. “These filthy demihumans was picking on a prized citizen of Stranglehold, and I was about to bring it to your attention, m’lady!”

“You wouldn’t think you’re that prized citizen of Stranglehold, would you?” The woman swaggered up to the old man and placed a hand on a gilded shortsword swung low on her hip. She had sharp features with dark hair and dark skin to go with it. Her ears were pointed—elven, most likely—and she wore functional black leather armor whose only adornment was a strange, multi-pointed gold star. “Or did you forget all those rotten things you said to me about my ears that led to you pushing around this wheelbarrow all day? Hmm?”

Dungbarrow gave her a look that spewed pure hatred, then bowed and gave her a literal shit-eating grin. “Sorry, m’lady. I’ll be on my way. Plenty of shit left for me to do, eh? Haha!”

And without another glance, Dungbarrow grabbed the handles of his dung barrow and went on his merry way. But as he walked past Lars and Finn he whispered, "You filth haven't seen the last of me."

“Sorry about him,” said the woman with a wry smile. “He’s not very tolerant of... others, but he’s harmless. He drives most of the citizens of Stranglehold nuts with his rantings, but they get a laugh out of him every once in a while, so we tolerate him. That and I can’t exactly lock him up with the real criminals because they’ll kill him. Ha!”

Lars and Finn let out a nervous laugh. Biscuit barked.

“Sorry! I forgot to introduce myself!” She held out a hand that looked like it wasn’t afraid to get dirty every once in a while. “The name is Nora, Nora Springbrook. And I’m the Sheriff around here. At least part-time. To be honest, there’s not much excitement in Stranglehold other than the Dungbarrow gang and the occasional traveling show. Oh, you’re giving me that look everyone gives me. I’ve been ranting again, haven't I? And I didn’t even ask your names.”

They said nothing. The young elf had completely surprised both men, in more ways than one.

She raised her eyebrows. “Your names?”

“Oh, sorry!” said Finn. “My name is Finn. Finnegan Murphy. And down here? This is Lars.”

She reached down and gave Biscuit a nuzzle behind the ears. “Hello Lars! You are the cutest little capybara I have ever seen!”

Biscuit snorted and pulled her head away.

Finn blinked. "You know about capybaras?"

"Of course! I love rodents of all kinds. I had a pet rat once upon a time. He wasn't friendly like Lars, though. I later found out he was a demented shapeshifter that had gotten himself permanently stuck as a rat while playing with dark magic, but that's another story altogether." She frowned. "I still miss him from time to time."

Finn smirked. "Would you say he... Pettigrew on you?"

She giggled. "I don't get that reference, but I'm sure it's clever. You seem like a clever fellow, Finnegan Murphy."

Finn beamed. "I most certainly am, Nora Springbr--"

The actual Lars cleared his throat. “Jesus, you two! Get a fucking room!”

"Sorry, I didn't see you there." Nora leaned forward and put her hands on her knees. "And just who might this little fella be, Finn?"

"Nora, it pains me to have to correct someone as perfect as you, but you seem to have mixed up my companions," Finn said. "The short ugly one is Lars. The cute one's name is Biscuit.”

“Oh! Ha! You’re Lars! Nice to meet you Lars. You certainly are a… different looking thing, aren’t you? I knew you boys were from out of town from the moment I set eyes on you—the clothing, or lack thereof, gave it away, but you must be from way out of town. Maybe even across that ocean everyone is always telling me I need to visit.”

“Yes, Nora.” Finn nodded. “We're from way, way out of town.”

“Across the ocean,” Lars added.

She flashed a smile. “Well, it’s good to have a few fresh faces in Stranglehold. Normally, I would stay and chat your ears off, but we all know I’ve done enough of that for today. Ha! And I have an appointment I need to get to.” She pointed. “Can I count on you three to stay out of trouble while you’re in town?”

They nodded enthusiastically, except for Biscuit. She barked.

“Good. Well, I’ll be seeing—”

Lars punched Finn in the leg. “Help? Ask her about help, kid. And healing!”

“Shush, I was getting to that!” Finn said. “Nora, sorry to be a bother. You seem to be on very important business. But can you spare one of your precious moments for another question?"

Lars rolled his eyes.

"For you? Of course!" she said.

Finn cocked his head. "Is there a place around here where we can get some help?”

“Sure, silly!” she laughed. “You really are from out of town! Just head over to the desk with the big bright red letters above it. It’s in the square over by the temple.”