by Aaron Oster
“That’s exactly what it is!” Baron Von Tweet answered, seeming to be the least affected of them all. “We’re in the Quagmire. That enchantress must have intercepted our travel and thrown us out here. Check your map to see where we are!”
Sam, who had been aware of the stench for the longest and was thus no longer crippled by it, pulled up his map and examined their location. They were indeed in a Territory called the Quagmire. It bordered the East Kingdom and a place called The Orcdom, though the Territory was so small it wasn’t a wonder he hadn’t noticed it before.
“Looks like we’re only about sixty or so miles from the border of the East Kingdom,” he said, still pinching his nose. “And about four days to the capital from there.”
“We need to get moving!” Gordon repeated. “It isn’t safe here!”
“What do you mean?” Emma asked, her face twisted in disgust. “I mean, aside from the stench. Is this a high-level area?”
“Not especially, but the locals are far from friendly,” Barry answered. “The mutt’s right, we really need to get going.”
“Agreed,” Gordon replied, turning eastward and beginning to walk.
The mere fact that Gordon hadn’t snapped back at the bird for calling him a mutt told Sam and Emma how precarious their situation was. Yes, the stench was horrible, but that shouldn’t have been enough to scare them that much. So, without another word, they followed after them, setting as good a pace as they could manage.
The map didn’t tell them much other than the directions to the border. There were no towns or villages marked out, just small landmarks that they could use for travel.
“Do you think this place is infested with monsters?” Emma asked as she jogged alongside him.
They’d both been forced to unplug their noses to run, though the stench had not faded in the slightest.
“No idea. Though judging by the fact that there are no towns or villages, I’d say it’s a pretty good bet.”
“No,” Barry replied, flying overhead. “Not monsters. What occupies these lands is far worse.”
“What could be worse than monsters?” Sam asked, just before Emma tackled him to the ground.
A grayish shape whizzed by overhead, streaking through the area his head had occupied just a moment before.
“Thanks!” Sam breathed as Emma got off him.
“You can thank me later,” she said with a wink.
“What the hell was that thing?” he asked, looking around for the source of the attack.
A moment later, he got his answer. A small figure popped out from behind one of the compost heaps and hurled something at him. His Mage Shield flared to life, coating him in a whirling blue cocoon. The projectile slammed into him before bouncing off, deflected by the shield.
“Is that a rock?” Emma asked, crouching down to look at the gray stone.
“Oh no, they have found us! We must flee!” Gordon said in a panicked voice.
“Who’s found us?” Sam asked, getting annoyed at all the hedging. “Just spit it out!”
“Damn it, it’s too late!” Baron Von Tweet cursed, pointing with one of his feet as his wings beat at the air.
Turning, Sam saw what he meant. A group of squat figures was emerging swiftly from the pile of compost. They were not coming from behind it as he’d first thought but from inside. They were all filthy and the stench radiating from them was almost enough to incapacitate. One stepped forward and Sam was finally able to get a better look at the man.
He was short, like a dwarf or gremlin, but instead of muscle, his body was covered in layer upon layer of rippling fat. His skin was too dirty to make out the color, though Sam thought it might naturally be that nasty yellow-brown color. A yellowish beard matted with dirt and bits of food sat upon his oversized belly, which was peeking through the bottom of his shirt. His face was craggy and lined, with a large hooked nose and wide flabby mouth. A small blue cap sat perched upon his brow, and his small eyes were narrowed in outright hostility. Clutched in his hand was another rock and he looked just about ready to throw it.
“What the actual fuck is that thing?” Sam demanded.
When he didn’t get a reply, he decided to stop being an idiot and just use his Inspect skill.
PAL-TEE
Name: Zundel Platinumhammer
Gender: Male?
Class: None
Level: 9 - HP: 180/180 - MP: 70/70 - STA: 6/10
Status: Aggressive
Greatest Threat: Bad Hygiene
Pal-Tees are a race rarely seen and often smelled. You can tell when one of them is near, simply by the stench of garlic and onions. They don’t get along well with others, preferring to throw rocks first and ask questions later.
Pal-Tees gain +3 Constitution with each level but suffer massive penalties to both Charisma and Wisdom.
5
“Never seen a thing like that,” Sam muttered as he finished reading over the maybe-male’s status. “Who the hell heard of using bad hygiene as a weapon?”
The pal-tee pulled his arm back and hurled the rock, which bounced harmlessly off Sam’s chest without doing any damage. It seemed that his armor rating was higher than the damage output this thing could dish out. However, instead of frightening the creature, it opened its mouth, revealing a set of slime-encrusted teeth, and howled in impotent rage.
“Kill the intruders! Throw rocks on them!”
Sam was surprised this thing could speak, and though he doubted they could even hurt him with their rocks, he wasn’t about to take this sitting down.
“No, don’t!” Gordon yelled as Sam drew his staff and used Mana Shot.
It was too late to pull the attack, and Sam grinned as the twin beams of light flashed from the staff, impacting the pal-tee in the chest and hurling him back.
You deal: -107 Damage to pal-tee (Mana Shot).
Unfortunately, since he hadn’t struck first, his Sucker Punch didn’t come into effect, but still, he was satisfied with the result. The pal-tee was hurled off his feet, screeching in pain as the spells burned into him. The thing had a massive amount of HP, though, so his attack hadn’t taken it – him? – down.
As the pal-tee tried to struggle to his feet, he collapsed, his minuscule Stamina score running out from the effort. It took another Mana Shot, followed closely by a Mana Burn, and the pal-tee moved no more.
The increase the staff gave his damage output was no joke!
Pal-tee dies. +451 XP
The others in the ground look stunned for a moment. Then, they all began wailing in unison before picking up their own rocks and beginning to throw them. A quick Inspect revealed that not a single one was over level 10, and they’d all invested heavily in Constitution, so none of them could hurt him.
“You have doomed us all,” Gordon said, even as he prepared to fight.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dog, or why you keep going on about this, but they’re total wimps. Emma and I could take them down without sustaining a single point of damage.”
“Yeah. I don’t know about you, but I’m not getting near those filthy things,” Emma said with an exaggerated shudder. “You can smell them from here, and I am not getting pal-tee guts in my hair!”
“Suit yourself,” Sam replied with a shrug. “More XP for me!”
He grinned, then targeted the area where they were all lumped together and activated his new Over-Burn ability. He’d never used it before, so he wasn’t sure what would happen. So, when the area he’d targeted suddenly exploded violently, spewing a column of flames into the sky and sending pal-tees flying in all directions, he was very pleased.
“Fuck yeah!” he yelled, pumping the staff in the air as the pal-tees ran in all directions, some of their rear ends comically aflame. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”
“Oh, God! The smell!” Emma cried. “It’s getting worse!”
“Don’t breathe it in!” Gordon warned. “Whatever you do, don’t…” he trailed off, his legs going wo
bbly. He promptly fell over in an unconscious heap.
Sam looked at the dog in confusion. Had the smell finally overwhelmed his delicate nose? Shrugging to himself, he decided that he didn’t have time to worry about that. The pal-tees were regrouping, snatching up rocks, and lobbing them at him. They were completely ignoring the others in his group, which was fine with him.
For once, he didn’t need to stand back and allow everyone else to do the fighting. His gear was good enough that he didn’t need to cower in fear that a stray breeze would kill him. He had an HP of over 300, and his armor rating was way too high for him to be hurt. Grinning, he leveled his staff once more and used Mana Burn, followed once again by Mana Shot. Seeing that it was working, he unleashed his Mage Blot.
The pal-tees screamed as they were rocked by ability after ability until their numbers were reduced to well over half the original. Sam was beginning to run low on MP after so many casts, even with the 25% decreased cost. The pat-tees’ massive health pools were making them a challenge to kill, even at their relatively low levels.
It was also beginning to smell really, really bad. As Emma had noted, the stench was only growing worse as they died, their corpses releasing a cloud of green mist. Barry dropped to the ground, falling from the air with a thump. Sam whirled, finally realizing that Gordon had been trying to warn them of something.
“What’s going on?” he asked, using his Mage Shield to stop any rocks that might be aimed at his head while he wasn’t looking – the pal-tees didn’t seem to like close-quarters combat.
“I don’t know,” Emma replied, her face oddly pale. “But I don’t feel so…bleck, good.”
Sam was barely in time to catch her as she pitched forward in a dead faint. Several more rocks pounded into him, but he was barely aware of that, trying to get to the bottom of this. Then, he finally noticed the warning notifications buried into the damage ones.
Debuff gained: Stupefied. Duration: M 5: S 52
Debuff gained: Stupefied (Stage II). Duration: M 10: S 56
He noticed that the list kept going, finally ending at stage 7, though he couldn’t understand what the debuff did. Deciding that it didn’t matter, he lowered Emma to the ground and whirled on the remaining pal-tees, using the same sequence of attacks as before. Another pal-tee went down, a cloud of green gas exploding from the corpse.
Only because he was paying attention did he notice the debuff flash once again, and this time, he felt it. His head swam, and his legs went all wobbly. He staggered, trying to focus and attack again. If he could kill them all before he passed out, he wouldn’t need to worry about being attacked.
His next attack was way off target, the streak of blue light going wide.
“He’s goink down!” one of them yelled in a funny accent. “Quick, use the gala-rang!”
Through bleary vision, Sam saw something hurtling toward his face. His Mage Shield was still on cooldown, and since this wasn’t a magical attack, his Mana Cloak would do him no good. He tried to get his staff up in time to block, but his body responded too sluggishly. Something warm, squishy, and gelatinous slapped him on the forehead and for a moment, he wondered if this was a joke. Then, he inhaled, and the smell hit him so hard he was literally knocked off his feet.
The air exploded from his lungs as he hit the ground, and the world around him began to fade. Distantly, he could hear the pal-tees cheering and he tried to get up. His body just wouldn’t respond. The last thing he saw as his vision was fading was a notification.
Pal-tee hits you with gala-rang. Your senses have been overwhelmed!
Debuff gained: Shock. Duration: H 3: M 59: S 59
So, it seemed that the warning of ‘bad hygiene’ being their greatest threat should have been taken more literally.
“Well, fuck!” Sam cursed before he blacked out.
***
A rattling jolt brought Sam from the lands of unconsciousness and back into the world of the living. His mind was groggy, though it didn’t take too long for it to clear up this time. His eyes opened, and he found himself staring right at a donkey’s ass.
“Gah!” he exclaimed, scrambling back in surprise.
“Ow! Watch it!”
Sam turned to see Emma clutching at her head from where his staff had whacked her. It took him a few seconds to process where they were, but once he figured it out, he let out a loud groan. He, Emma, Gordon, and Barry were all locked inside a wicker cage on wheels, which was being pulled along by the donkey, whose rear end had greeted him upon his awakening.
Trundling along on either side were the pal-tees he’d been fighting, though they looked no worse for wear. Both Gordon and Barry were still out cold, but it seemed Emma was awake.
“You get the license plate of the truck that hit us?” she asked, clutching at her head and looking around in confusion.
“It seems like these little stink bombs have figured out a way to weaponize their stench,” Sam replied, glaring at the little pal-tees through the bars. “They don’t seem like they’re too smart, though, seeing as they left us with our weapons.”
“Don’t even tink about runnink! If you do, Chief’s man will kill you!”
Sam looked down to see one of the pal-tees, missing half his gross beard, glaring up at him. There was a rock clutched in his hand, and he looked like he wanted nothing more than to throw it.
Seriously, what’s with these people and rocks?
“Yeah. Somehow, I doubt your Chief’s man will be able to stop us. Especially after seeing how weak you all are,” he said, drawing the staff from his back. “You ready to bust out of here?”
“Yup,” Emma replied, grasping the hilt of her sword. “I don’t care about getting their filth on me now. They probably laid their grubby hands all over me when I was unconscious, so I’ll have no mercy!”
“Hoze! They’re tryink to get away!” The little pal-tee screeched at this sign of aggression.
“You guys sure have a weird way of talking,” Sam said, pointing his staff and preparing to use an attack.
“Try it, and you’ll be dead before you can moof!”
Sam whirled, pointing his staff at yet another pal-tee who’d just made himself visible. However, this one seemed quite a bit different than the rest. For one, he was wearing armor and had a massive mace at his side, and despite all the blubber covering his frame, he moved quite easily. Using Inspect, he soon understood why.
PAL-TEE
Name: Hoze Butcher
Gender: Male?
Class: Massive-Brute-Warrior
Level: 36 - HP: 2,950/2,950 - MP: 0/0 - STA: 2,800/2,800
Status: Indifferent
Greatest Threat: Massive Meteor
Sam immediately lowered his weapon, slinging it back over his shoulder. He didn’t understand how this pal-tee was so strong, or what he was doing with a bunch of weaklings. Perhaps he was their Chief?
No, the other one specifically called him the Chief’s man, which could only mean that the Chief had to be even stronger!
Sam noticed that he was able to accurately gauge the man’s greatest threat. Back when he’d faced Millicent, he’d been unable to. Then again, she’d been level 43, while this man was only level 36. Still, he couldn’t understand why there was such a massive power gap between him and this pal-tee.
His gear didn’t seem to be all that special, and he was only twice his level, so shouldn’t his stats be far lower? There had to be some secret to all of this, and he was sure Gordon knew what it was. Unfortunately, the dog was still out, so it would have to wait.
“That guy is a monster!” Emma said, her voice sounding shaky. “How are we supposed to make it out of here alive?”
“You’re not!” said the weaker pal-tee with a nasty smile - it literally had to the nastiest smile either of them had ever seen, due to all the gross shit stuck in his teeth. “You’re all goink to die! The Chief will see your foreheads and kill you for your crimes.”
The pal-tee began to laugh then, forcing them
both to pinch their noses at the awful stench.
“Gag me with a spoon! Haven’t you people ever heard of soap or toothpaste?” Emma demanded.
There was a collective gasp from every pal-tee in attendance. Even Hoze Butcher looked shocked.
“Blasphemy!” screamed a pal-tee, breaking the silence.
“You tink we’re so low that we use soap?!” another yelled.
“The Chief should kill you just for dat!”
“Well, that explains it, at least,” Sam muttered.
If they hated cleanliness to the point where the called it blasphemy, it was no wonder this entire area smelled as bad as it did. It was then that Gordon began to come to, followed closely by Barry. They both rose groggily, but they sat right back down as soon as they realized where they were.
“What’s with you two?” Emma finally asked. “You’ve been acting weird ever since we came here.”
“No,” Gordon replied. “The two of you do not understand what is happening. We are in the Quagmire, homeland of the pal-tees. Once you are taken by them, there is no escape. We will be killed and most likely eaten.”
“Wait, what? Eaten?!”
“Indeed. Had you not attacked and simply run away, we may have escaped with our lives. But, seeing as you insisted on shooting first and asking questions later, we are all doomed!” Gordon said mournfully.
“Always knew this was how it would end. Parrot stew in a pal-tee’s belly,” Barry groaned, commiserating with the dog.
Neither Sam nor Emma could say anything following that proclamation. The very idea that they would be eaten was so messed up that it had shocked them into silence. Of all the sick things this twisted world had thrown at them, this was on a whole other level. Dying was one thing, but being eaten? That crossed the line!
He started to wrack his brain, trying desperately to come up with some way they might escape. Sure, the brute Hoze Butcher was strong, but they could probably take him if they worked together, right?
