Ben remembered a time when he was about to go out and perform a live-streamed show, and the director had changed the script in the last two minutes. "Don't kill Baron LaVoy, he renegotiated his contract for the season. He'll be on your side at some point today, but that pissed off the folks over at Dominion, so expect some or all of their people to maybe...play fast and loose during the fight. Oh, and your squire is actually the Count d'Abliss in disguise; he was already going to kill you - don't drink the wine, it was in case we needed a funeral scene. Hope we don't. Love ya, Ben! I know you'll be great."
He remembered that night, the utter confusion he'd felt as everything changed around him, and thought this was a little worse. "Cousins? I don't think...."
Harmony interrupted him, slapping her forehead. "Damn me for a beginner. You're right. No time for catch up, we're on a mission. Your horse is all we have, so I'll ride behind you." She grabbed a set of saddlebags and threw them over her shoulder, tossed her ruined jacket on the ground, and leaped astride Mudhead without using the stirrups.
Ben shrugged. Time to make shit up along the way. He managed to get into the saddle in front of her without embarrassing himself too much and got Mudhead moving. Harmony leaned in close, wrapping her arms around him. "Don't worry about me. I'll just snuggle up behind you. You'll barely know that I'm here."
Ben somehow doubted that. She was pressed up against him, her breath on his neck and her hands tended to roam over him as the horse moved down the road.
Harmony whispered in his ear. "Can we go faster? Just let him run. It's so much more fun to go fast when riding double."
Ben said a silent prayer and kicked the roan with a heel to get him moving, snapping the reins at the same time. One of these made sense to the horse and he took off running flat out down the road, ignoring Ben's attempts to steer him around puddles or rough spots.
But a low-hanging branch on the left was looking like trouble. Trying to get the horse to move to the right failed, but did bring him to a sudden stop. Ben continued onward without a girl or horse, impacting the branch with his stomach before slowly falling to the ground.
He got up from the ground to find an angry Harmony confronting him. Her sword was out, and ready to run him through. And her left arm was pointed at him, small steel points sticking out from under the cuff. Ben realized that the full sleeves hid the wrist-mounted crossbow she was armed with.
"We are going to talk, 'cousin'. And if I don't like the answers, I'll take your horse and leave you for the scavengers."
Ben didn't move, having a healthy respect for pointed objects, and liked to keep them out of his body.
"I noticed that you aren't packing a sword, but I know some of us prefer the whip so I gave that a pass. But you don't have any concealed weapons that I could feel - not even a dagger; that makes no sense at all. Your aura tells me that you aren't a mage and you don't have the muscles for a brawler. But you aren't a courier - no courier sucks at riding a horse like you do. It's like you don't even know how."
Ben shrugged, waiting for a question, not wanting to interrupt. He was learning things.
"Yet, despite your lack of riding ability, you dismount like a trained tumbler or an assassin. You arrived at the nick of time, and strangely have the name of one of the lost family members. And I'd just been ambushed when you conveniently rode in to save me. Forgive me for not playing the damsel in distress, but something isn't right here."
Ben slowly raised his hands. "I can explain...sort of. I'm a new courier, but I lack a lot of training. Matthias was working with me when the message came in and he sent me off on that damned roan, telling me to learn to ride on the way. I fell more than I stayed on so I worked on dismounting first. And yes, I have a little experience with acrobatics, but a long time ago."
Her eyes hardened. "Matthias and Beatrice were the best couriers of their age. I hardly see them taking on someone who can't learn to ride a horse, and you certainly didn't come out of the academy lacking that skill."
Ben sighed. "I'd have loved to attend this academy, but it's the first I've heard of it. And don't blame my lack of skill on Matthias. He took me on as a charity case after I showed up last month and ACME told me I was a Courier. I think they just wanted someone to run messages back and forth between the farms they had at little villages in the north."
"You're a player? One of the people from one of the other worlds?"
"Yes! I'm a player. Well...from the other world. The real world? I'm a Contract Worker. My employer pays for me to be here and I do what they say. They also gave us shit skills and work us to death. Hell, I wish I could just show you my damn sheet. I didn't have a choice in this, I swear."
Harmony cocked her head to the side. "Say the following: I give Harmony Franklin, permission to view my character sheet. "
Ben didn't know what was going on but complied. "I give Harmony Franklin permission to view my character sheet."
Harmony stared for 10 seconds, then laughed softly while sheathing her sword. "Oh, I'm so sorry, cousin, but this ACME person screwed you good when they hired you! Did they not know what a Courier was? Get back on the horse, behind me this time. We need to get moving, but maybe we can teach you something on the way. "She broke out laughing again as he was mounting. "And please, Benjamin, explain to me what the hell kind of skill 'Tastes Like Chicken' is."
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
----------------------------------------
Ozzy woke up from his nap and stretched. His mana was completely drained, his pit continuously sucking it out of him as he napped. He walked to Aleister's house where a line of four people in Timmy's group were buying potions. Aleister happily took his money but gave him a discount. "We adventure together. It wouldn't be right to charge you retail."
He drank the four potions, filling up his mana halfway, and returned to the Pit. He felt the mana drain away again and then stop. The air was hot and sooty. Smoke filled the pit, swirling and thick, turning faster and faster like a cyclone made out of smoke. What looked like an old man in overalls was inspecting the meat on the stakes. The man turned and Ozzy saw the overalls were a worn grey and the man's skin a dark black. He stared up at Ozzy as the smoke swirled around him. Ozzy wasn't sure who it was, but just in case it was a player or local farmer who had more curiosity than sense, he yelled down, "Hey, careful down there. You can get hurt easily."
Deep laughter came out of the pit. The man exploded into a cloud of smoke and a creature formed in front of Ozzy. It looked like a tornado made of smoke, floating a foot off the ground and ten feet tall. Two disembodied claws of fire were on either side, and red eyes peered out from the tornado about two-thirds of the way up.
"Your servant is ready to do your bidding...Master..." The voice was deep, the words devoid of emotion, but there was a pause as if the last word was hard to speak.
"You're the smoke golem my pit was making?"
"I am summoned by the pit to serve...Master..."
"Who or what was that down in the pit before?"
"Apologies...Master. An alternate form. I will not displease you by using it again."
"Oh, hell. I'm not sure I care what you look like. Pick whichever form you like or gets the job done better."
"Truly? This form is traditional..."
"Yeah, well I'm a bit untraditional at times. You look like you want to, how’s that? And please, call me Ozzy. I don't think either of us is comfortable with you calling me Master."
The golem seemed to condense, turning into a wrinkled old man in his 70's. His head was bald and the skin smooth and dark black like soot. He wore black work boots and a pair of grey overalls. A sturdy shovel was in one hand. When he spoke, it was with a slight drawl and in a voice deep and slow. "I do prefer this form more. Thank you."
Ozzy looked over the golem's new form. He could still see a bit of smoke coming off of him now and then, and his eyes held some of the fiery glint. "Seems like there's a story in there somewhere. Why don't you tell it to me when you feel like it? What do I call you?"
The golem learned on his shovel and looked around. "Well son, take your pick. I've been called 'The smoking death', 'The Burninator', 'Keeper of the Pit', 'Pit Fiend', 'Ham Warden', and 'Smokey Joe', among other things. And sometimes, just Old Joe.
Ozzy chuckled at the names. Now he was really curious about who this guy had worked for before. "Let's go with Smokey Joe, or just Joe for short.”
Joe seemed relieved. "Thanks, son, some of those names are just downright embarrassing after a while." He turned and looked at the charnel pit. "Although, not as embarrassing as looking at the state of this pit. I've got no spices or rubs, nothing to mop down that meat and keep it moist, and we're mostly working out of a hole in the ground. I'd like to do a better job for you Master...uh, Ozzy. Sorry, son, old habits, and some of my former employers were real jerks about 'respecting their awesomeness' and using whatever name or title they'd thought up that week. Never did see how a name you gave yourself counted."
"Couldn't agree more. Let's just make it Joe and Ozzy. Sounds like you have some plans?"
"Oh, I have a lot of plans, most of them on hold for a long time. Did you summon me to learn some bar-b-que? Or learn about the Smoke, or what?"
"Well, bar-b-que for now, but I'm curious about a lot of things."
Joe nodded. "Let's work on cooking up something tasty then. I'd enjoy that."
[Smokey Joe requests that you accept the following quest: Increase the level of the Charnel Pit of the Butcher to Level 2
Requirements: 1000 stone bricks, mop bucket, large bar-b-que mop, 6 mixing barrels, a barrel of soy sauce, assorted spices (50 lbs.), one whole heap each of onions, garlic, black peppercorns, brown sugar or honey, two whole heaps of tomatoes, and a root cellar.
Rewards: A better Pit, increased respect from Smokey Joe, and access to better recipes. 500 experience in Pit Alchemy. Accept: Y/N?
This was the type of quest Ozzy could get into. He accepted the quest. "Alright Joe, let’s do this. I'll go see about having some bricks hauled over here from the quarry and work out a deal with a couple of the masons to cut them for me. You figure out where you want that root cellar dug, and then I'll go shopping for supplies."
Joe watched the excited young butcher run off to start the quest. This one might just be what he'd been looking for these last few hundred years. And if not, well, accidents happen when you forget to do the binding rituals on your golems. He stretched, flexing some of his power, and made sure the smoke was swirling around the meat and cooking it evenly.
He'd have to see which way the smoke was blowing.