A Manilla envelope isn’t what I would call a remarkable thing. Thousands of them are in circulation in any major corporate office at any point in time. Though, as I looked at the envelope Chuck had given to me, I had to wonder how many corporate offices were covered in blood.
“You won’t know until you open it,” Mogwai said encouragingly.
I noticed she was making wide paths around the table when she walked by to get more coffee. It was like she was unconsciously leery of it. My own concerns were more up front.
Sitting in the middle of my kitchen table, it might as well of been the Ark of the Covenant. It was both intriguing and foreboding. Which was why I was sitting there at two in the morning sipping a glass of wine and staring at it.
“Hold your horses. I know you’ve had a lot of coffee, but It says clear as day ‘don’t open until tomorrow,’ right there on the front,” I countered.
“Its two am, it is tomorrow,” Mogwai picked up her mug and sipped at it like the blue mountain brew was the nectar of the gods.
Mogwai had changed into a pair of children’s flannel PJs, featuring a cartoon blue heeler puppy. As she sat there on my red chair step stool, I wondered how tall she really was?
Initially, I guessed she was five-foot. But I was sure that two inches was from the heels of her boots.
Nah, she was shorter than five foot, maybe four foot ten, or nine.
Like her boots, she was a little chunky in build, maybe one hundred and twenty pounds, but she was also adorable. Which might explain why I let a someone who was practically a stranger stay the night on my couch. I mean, if she was an animal I would have had her in a show box in a second, too cute!
It was like she had a cute-spell, or glamour on me. You know, like those vampires from those bad 2000s Vampire shows? Though I don’t think Mogwai could look me in the eye and get away with, “Sookie, you are mine!”
Though, come to think of it Eric Northman and Pam might have been able to---
“You look like you’re reading a Harlequin romance, what’s on your mind Rhett?” Mogwai said dully.
“Nothing, just thinking about the envelope,” I said a little too quick, and felt the blood rush to my cheeks.
Mogwai raised a brow. “Does the envelope have a southern drawl and winning smile?” she asked with growing interest.
“Who?”
“Mr. ‘Indubitably, the lady would acquiesce to your request if you were to entreat her good nature, blah…blah…I’m a cowboy, blah.” Mogwai said with a slight British accent, but I knew she meant Henry Holliday.
“Ew, god no!” I responded before I thought, and Mogwai laughed like a little girl at a puppet show.
“Can you just stop? I don’t even want to think about men. Lately they’ve all been Marv, Chuck, Henry, and---Where the hell did Felix end up?” I asked just now realizing we’d left him standing guard at the Sci-Fi convention.
"I don't think about men either. They only want one thing, and its so pathetic!" Mog declared, but I wasn't in the mood for man bashing, even if it could easily have been my favorite sport these days.
As it was my eyes drifted back to the envelop, and with a glance I could see Mogwai was fixated on it as well.
“He called while you were in the shower. Something about a expired concealed carry permit. I don’t know for sure. I think he might be hiding out until the morning, when he brings me my Jeep. Besides, he is like, a level seven human soldier, he’ll be fine,” Mogwai said in a rush.
“What? What level am I? And why did you say that so fast? I could barely understand you,” I asked her, but Mogwai’s off her stool and moving to look at the envelope from the other side of the table.
“I forgot to tell you when you came out of the shower, so I told you really fast, so you’d know sooner,” Mog replied as if that made any sense.
“That doesn’t…” I sighed and took a long breath in through my nose and out through my mouth like my PTSD counselor taught me.
“How do you know what level Felix is?” I asked again, and took a gulp off my wine.
“I don’t know for sure. I’m guessing. Like I am guessing what’s in the envelope,” she explained and slid it toward me.
“Oh, fine!” I growled and snatched the envelope from the table and tore off the end.
On top of the letterhead, a dark grey unicorn with a black mane and red eyes stood as a logo just above the company name.
“Special Fugitive Recovery Services-LLC,” the form read across the top in western script. Aside from that was only a web address and a passcode.
“What the hell is this?” I blurted out.
“What did you expect? A post office FBI’s most wanted poster?” Mogwai said as she hurriedly pulled up the site on her computer. She had that bored, offhanded tone of hers that made me want to strangle her.
“Oh, I don’t surf the dark web, so I’m country bumkin? I scoffed.
“No, you’re a Bumkin because you think the dark web is a place where only criminals go to surf child porn, or arrange mob hits,” she said just as placid as before, then turned the laptop so I could see it.
“Un-Natural World .com”
The title page read, but what I was looking at was some sort of fan wiki site.
Across the top left a yellow and red badge read, “Cryptid-Wiki” then the tool bar listed several categories and areas to explore.
“What is this, a monster fan base?” I asked, and Mogwai shot me a glare.
“It’s undercover. People from all over the world come here and discuss creatures, theories and sightings. They just don’t know that it’s most all true,” Mogwai said.
“How do you know all this? You don’t get this kind of knowledge by listening to ghost to ghost AM with Harold Henderson,” I scoffed, but there was no real acid behind it. Instead, I was enthralled with the site.
“Ghost to Ghost is a good place to dip your toe in the sea, but it’s too late for that. We’re going swimming with the sharks, Mogwai said dramatically.
With a stroke of the keys, she opened a protected site, “Give me the pen code,” she prompted by putting her out flat and motioning with her fingers like a kung-fu challenge.
I handed her the paper and watched as she gained access and brought up the page.
Special Fugitive Recovery Services
Posted:
* “Suspected Naga Attack”
* “The Skunk Ape of Frozen Dog Lane”
* “Nezhat on the loose”
* “Mi-Go”
“What the heck is a Mi-go?” I asked and looked at Mogwai.
Mog took a second to think and take a big slurp of coffee before saying, “It’s like a cross between fungus and lobsters. They’re a little too high of a level for us to be chasing.” .
“Is this some kind of wanted list? Different Monsters I am supposed to go after?” I asked, feeling my stomach sink.
I could see my life quickly becoming one controlled by missions and near-death experiences, and that was the last thing I wanted. I wanted to chill, and drink wine at Humping Hanna’s Bar and boot scoot, not die in the maw of some hound of hell.
“Normally, a bounty hunter on contract is required to claim one a quarter, but you can get as many as you want. Just don’t be too greedy, there are other bounty hunters out there,” she explained.
“I don’t want any of them. Let’s pick something easy and go from there,“ I said and took another belt of my wine.
“The Naga is the lowest level, a basic level three. It has spitting poison attacks. It’s worth around 300 exp. Should be easy,” Mog said with a shrug.
“Naga? Like as in a snake?” I felt my eyes widen and the hair stand up on my arms.
“Yup. No hands, makes it significantly easier to fight,” Mog explained, than went on about the many household pets that had come up missing. But I was too busy thinking of slimy, coiling masses of scales and that disgusting little tongue darting in and out.
“Nope,” I said simply and reached out to select, “The Skunk Ape of Frozen Dog Lane.”
Skunk Ape, Sasquatch, Yowie, Almas
May or may not be the legendary Sasquatch. Attacks have been infrequent, but deadly, with the major injuries taking place on the victim’s head and shoulders.
Skunk Ape, Yowie, Almas, Sasquatch
Large beast, unaligned
Armor Class 14 (natural armor)
Health 119
STR
DEX
CON
INT
WIS
CHA
18 (+4)
14 (+2)
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
16 (+3)
4 (–3)
12 (+1)
7 (–2)
Skills Perception +4, Stealth +6
Senses: night vision 50 ft., passive perception 15
Languages —
Level 4 (400 XP)
SPECIAL TRAITS
* Keen Hearing and Smell.
* Plant Camouflage.
* Relentless (Recharges after a Short or Long Rest).
* Reckless.
ACTIONS
* Multi-attack. The sasquatch makes three attacks: one with its bite and two with its fists.
* Bite. Melee Weapon Attack: +7 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 7 (1d6 + 4) piercing damage.
* Fist. Melee Weapon Attack: +7 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 11 (2d6 + 4) bludgeoning damage.
* Rock. Melee Weapon Attack: +7 to hit, range 20/60 ft., one target. Hit: 15 (2d10 + 4) bludgeoning damage.
ABOUT
Famously Elusive. Many people claim to have seen a sasquatch, but almost none have proof of their interaction with the beast, creating questions about the creature’s existence. Skeptics claim sasquatch sightings are simply misidentified bears, apes, or similar creatures.
Sasquatches are solitary nocturnal creatures that generally avoid confrontation. They prefer to stay in the shadows of the forest, dining on vegetation and insects while staying clear of other creatures.
Hidden Lairs. Sasquatches are smart enough to hide the entrances to their lairs with heavy boulders, underbrush, fallen trees, a waterfall, or some other obstruction that appears to be a natural part of the terrain.
Aggressive When Provoked. Though sasquatches prefer to avoid confrontation, they fight savagely when cornered or if another creature threatens their home or food source. Their powerful fists and teeth make formidable weapons. Sasquatches will initiate a conflict when threatened.
Attracted and Soothed by Music. There are some who claim sasquatches are drawn and calmed by music, particularly songs with a lullaby-like quality. These tales come with a warning: stopping the song before the sasquatch is lulled to sleep by its melody causes the beast to go into a violent rage.
“Well, at least I’m smarter than it is,” I said as I reviewed the stats.
“They just SUSPECT. It’s a Sasquatch. Those wounds, head, shoulders, claw mark’s teeth marks,” Mogwai shook her head,
“Can’t risk it--- could be Drop Bears,” said and reached up to swipe back to the Naga.
“What is up with you and these Drop Bears? What the hell IS a Drop Bear?” I asked.
Mogwai looked at me a long moment, then cuddled her coffee cup in tight like a child with a security blanket.
“We don’t speak their name. It’s bad luck,” Mogwai said and again tried to swipe back to the Naga, but I stopped her.
"You've been saying their name for a few days now, besides I don't think you understand, this is my operation and I don't deal with Snakes. Period," I insisted and fixed her with a commanding look.
“Look, I’m not saying we have to go after the Naga, but I am not dealing with Drop Bears,” she said and crossed her arms defiantly as we glared at each other over the chipped Formica table.
A Manilla envelope isn’t what I would call a remarkable thing. Thousands of them are in circulation in any major corporate office at any point in time. Though, as I looked at the envelope Chuck had given to me, I had to wonder how many corporate offices were covered in blood.
“You won’t know until you open it,” Mogwai said encouragingly.
I noticed she was making wide paths around the table when she walked by to get more coffee. It was like she was unconsciously leery of it. My own concerns were more up front.
Sitting in the middle of my kitchen table, it might as well of been the Ark of the Covenant. It was both intriguing and foreboding. Which was why I was sitting there at two in the morning sipping a glass of wine and staring at it.
“Hold your horses. I know you’ve had a lot of coffee, but It says clear as day ‘don’t open until tomorrow,’ right there on the front,” I countered.
“Its two am, it is tomorrow,” Mogwai picked up her mug and sipped at it like the blue mountain brew was the nectar of the gods.
Mogwai had changed into a pair of children’s flannel PJs, featuring a cartoon blue heeler puppy. As she sat there on my red chair step stool, I wondered how tall she really was?
Initially, I guessed she was five-foot. But I was sure that two inches was from the heels of her boots.
Nah, she was shorter than five foot, maybe four foot ten, or nine.
Like her boots, she was a little chunky in build, maybe one hundred and twenty pounds, but she was also adorable. Which might explain why I let a someone who was practically a stranger stay the night on my couch. I mean, if she was an animal I would have had her in a show box in a second, too cute!
It was like she had a cute-spell, or glamour on me. You know, like those vampires from those bad 2000s Vampire shows? Though I don’t think Mogwai could look me in the eye and get away with, “Sookie, you are mine!”
Though, come to think of it Eric Northman and Pam might have been able to---
“You look like you’re reading a Harlequin romance, what’s on your mind Rhett?” Mogwai said dully.
“Nothing, just thinking about the envelope,” I said a little too quick, and felt the blood rush to my cheeks.
Mogwai raised a brow. “Does the envelope have a southern drawl and winning smile?” she asked with growing interest.
“Who?”
“Mr. ‘Indubitably, the lady would acquiesce to your request if you were to entreat her good nature, blah…blah…I’m a cowboy, blah.” Mogwai said with a slight British accent, but I knew she meant Henry Holliday.
“Ew, god no!” I responded before I thought, and Mogwai laughed like a little girl at a puppet show.
“Can you just stop? I don’t even want to think about men. Lately they’ve all been Marv, Chuck, Henry, and---Where the hell did Felix end up?” I asked just now realizing we’d left him standing guard at the Sci-Fi convention.
"I don't think about men either. They only want one thing, and its so pathetic!" Mog declared, but I wasn't in the mood for man bashing, even if it could easily have been my favorite sport these days.
As it was my eyes drifted back to the envelop, and with a glance I could see Mogwai was fixated on it as well.
“He called while you were in the shower. Something about a expired concealed carry permit. I don’t know for sure. I think he might be hiding out until the morning, when he brings me my Jeep. Besides, he is like, a level seven human soldier, he’ll be fine,” Mogwai said in a rush.
“What? What level am I? And why did you say that so fast? I could barely understand you,” I asked her, but Mogwai’s off her stool and moving to look at the envelope from the other side of the table.
“I forgot to tell you when you came out of the shower, so I told you really fast, so you’d know sooner,” Mog replied as if that made any sense.
“That doesn’t…” I sighed and took a long breath in through my nose and out through my mouth like my PTSD counselor taught me.
“How do you know what level Felix is?” I asked again, and took a gulp off my wine.
“I don’t know for sure. I’m guessing. Like I am guessing what’s in the envelope,” she explained and slid it toward me.
“Oh, fine!” I growled and snatched the envelope from the table and tore off the end.
On top of the letterhead, a dark grey unicorn with a black mane and red eyes stood as a logo just above the company name.
“Special Fugitive Recovery Services-LLC,” the form read across the top in western script. Aside from that was only a web address and a passcode.
“What the hell is this?” I blurted out.
“What did you expect? A post office FBI’s most wanted poster?” Mogwai said as she hurriedly pulled up the site on her computer. She had that bored, offhanded tone of hers that made me want to strangle her.
“Oh, I don’t surf the dark web, so I’m some kind of country bumkin? I scoffed.
“No, you’re a Bumkin because you think the dark web is a place where only criminals go to surf child porn, or arrange mob hits,” she said just as placid as before, then turned the laptop so I could see it.
“Un-Natural World .com”
The title page read, but what I was looking at was some sort of fan wiki site.
Across the top left a yellow and red badge read, “Cryptid-Wiki” then the tool bar listed several categories and areas to explore.
“What is this, a monster fan base?” I asked, and Mogwai shot me a glare.
“It’s undercover. People from all over the world come here and discuss creatures, theories and sightings. They just don’t know that it’s most all true,” Mogwai said.
“How do you know all this? You don’t get this kind of knowledge by listening to ghost to ghost AM with Harold Henderson,” I scoffed, but there was no real acid behind it. Instead, I was enthralled with the site.
“Ghost to Ghost is a good place to dip your toe in the sea, but it’s too late for that. We’re going swimming with the sharks, Mogwai said dramatically.
With a stroke of the keys, she opened a protected site, “Give me the pen code,” she prompted by putting her out flat and motioning with her fingers like a kung-fu challenge.
I handed her the paper and watched as she gained access and brought up the page.
Special Fugitive Recovery Services
Posted:
* “Suspected Naga Attack”
* “The Skunk Ape of Frozen Dog Lane”
* “Nezhat on the loose”
* “Mi-Go”
“What the heck is a Mi-go?” I asked and looked at Mogwai.
Mog took a second to think and take a big slurp of coffee before saying, “It’s like a cross between fungus and lobsters. They’re a little too high of a level for us to be chasing.” .
“Is this some kind of wanted list? Different Monsters I am supposed to go after?” I asked, feeling my stomach sink.
I could see my life quickly becoming one controlled by missions and near-death experiences, and that was the last thing I wanted. I wanted to chill, and drink wine at Humping Hanna’s Bar and boot scoot, not die in the maw of some hound of hell.
“Normally, a bounty hunter on contract is required to claim one a quarter, but you can get as many as you want. Just don’t be too greedy, there are other bounty hunters out there,” she explained.
“I don’t want any of them. Let’s pick something easy and go from there,“ I said and took another belt of my wine.
“The Naga is the lowest level, a basic level three. It has spitting poison attacks. It’s worth around 300 exp. Should be easy,” Mog said with a shrug.
“Naga? Like as in a snake?” I felt my eyes widen and the hair stand up on my arms.
“Yup. No hands, makes it significantly easier to fight,” Mog explained, than went on about the many household pets that had come up missing. But I was too busy thinking of slimy, coiling masses of scales and that disgusting little tongue darting in and out.
“Nope,” I said simply and reached out to select, “The Skunk Ape of Frozen Dog Lane.”
Skunk Ape, Sasquatch, Yowie, Almas
May or may not be the legendary Sasquatch. Attacks have been infrequent, but deadly, with the major injuries taking place on the victim’s head and shoulders.
Skunk Ape, Yowie, Almas, Sasquatch
Large beast, unaligned
Armor Class 14 (natural armor)
Health 119
STR
DEX
CON
INT
WIS
CHA
18 (+4)
14 (+2)
16 (+3)
4 (–3)
12 (+1)
7 (–2)
Skills Perception +4, Stealth +6
Senses: night vision 50 ft., passive perception 15
Languages —
Level 4 (400 XP)
SPECIAL TRAITS
* Keen Hearing and Smell.
* Plant Camouflage.
* Relentless (Recharges after a Short or Long Rest).
* Reckless.
ACTIONS
* Multi-attack. The sasquatch makes three attacks: one with its bite and two with its fists.
* Bite. Melee Weapon Attack: +7 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 7 (1d6 + 4) piercing damage.
* Fist. Melee Weapon Attack: +7 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 11 (2d6 + 4) bludgeoning damage.
* Rock. Melee Weapon Attack: +7 to hit, range 20/60 ft., one target. Hit: 15 (2d10 + 4) bludgeoning damage.
ABOUT
Famously Elusive. Many people claim to have seen a sasquatch, but almost none have proof of their interaction with the beast, creating questions about the creature’s existence. Skeptics claim sasquatch sightings are simply misidentified bears, apes, or similar creatures.
Sasquatches are solitary nocturnal creatures that generally avoid confrontation. They prefer to stay in the shadows of the forest, dining on vegetation and insects while staying clear of other creatures.
Hidden Lairs. Sasquatches are smart enough to hide the entrances to their lairs with heavy boulders, underbrush, fallen trees, a waterfall, or some other obstruction that appears to be a natural part of the terrain.
Aggressive When Provoked. Though sasquatches prefer to avoid confrontation, they fight savagely when cornered or if another creature threatens their home or food source. Their powerful fists and teeth make formidable weapons. Sasquatches will initiate a conflict when threatened.
Attracted and Soothed by Music. There are some who claim sasquatches are drawn and calmed by music, particularly songs with a lullaby-like quality. These tales come with a warning: stopping the song before the sasquatch is lulled to sleep by its melody causes the beast to go into a violent rage.
“Well, at least I’m smarter than it is,” I said as I reviewed the stats.
“They just SUSPECT. It’s a Sasquatch. Those wounds, head, shoulders, claw mark’s teeth marks,” Mogwai shook her head,
“Can’t risk it--- could be Drop Bears,” said and reached up to swipe back to the Naga.
“What is up with you and these Drop Bears? What the hell IS a Drop Bear?” I asked.
Mogwai looked at me a long moment, then cuddled her coffee cup in tight like a child with a security blanket.
“We don’t speak their name. It’s bad luck,” Mogwai said and again tried to swipe back to the Naga, but I stopped her.
"You've been saying their name for a few days now, besides I don't think you understand, this is my operation, and I don't deal with Snakes. Period," I insisted and fixed her with a commanding look.
“Look, I’m not saying we have to go after the Naga, but I am not dealing with Drop Bears,” she said and crossed her arms defiantly as we glared at each other over the chipped Formica table.