Glenn got up as the two dogs trotted over to the magic user, who squatted down and took the undergarment from them. She examined it. “A friend, really?”
Glenn tried to brush some of the mud off his tunic and trousers. “A friend, really.”
“I probably don’t want to ask.”
“It’s a long story, and I’m in a hurry.” He extended his hand.
She frowned, which Glenn felt was an uncharacteristic look for her. “It’s going to need some mending.”
Glenn groaned. Stephi was going to be pissed. She’d had a change of clothes when they came through, but he didn’t think she had two bras.
“You look like you just swallowed curdled milk…I didn’t catch your name.”
Even more embarrassed, Glenn said, “My name’s Jax.”
“Jax,” she said and held the undergarment up again. Her eyebrows rose, but she didn’t comment. “I can have this mended,” she said, “if your friend can survive without it until tomorrow.”
What choice did he have? He couldn’t give it to her, muddy, torn, and chewed up. “Sure. You live here?”
She stepped toward the door just to the left of the ivy. “This is my boarding house. The Glade House. I can let you cut through to the street entrance.”
“That’s okay,” Glenn said. “I left something back down the alley.”
“No hurry,” she said.
Glenn turned. “Actually there is. I need to get to the Apollo Temple a half hour before dawn.”
She cocked her head. “It is nearly four hours until dawn.”
“I will have your friend’s garment repaired and will hold onto it for a week.” She held Stephi’s bra up and examined it again. “After that? I don’t know…”
“Thank you,” Glenn said, and hustled down the alley to retrieve the cloak filled with coins and make his way to the Temple of Apollo.
The Glade House? Glenn was sure he could find it. What he didn’t think he could find was an explanation that would satisfy Stephi.
Chapter 15
Glenn discovered he could slink around in the shadows pretty well. Maybe it was his small size, maybe it was part of his natural gnomish abilities. He should’ve reviewed the Player’s Guide more carefully.
On his way to the temple, Glenn went out of his way to swing by the well house, and was glad he did. While he huddled beside the porch of a tailor’s shop, observing and catching his breath, Petie landed in front of him. The bird uttered several warbling chirps as it hopped around in a half circle. Glenn understood the bird’s meaning, interpreting it as: “Near nest of dead trees toward moon.”
He remembered Kirby saying that if she concentrated, Stephi could see through the bird’s eyes, if within a mile. Could she hear as well? He shrugged and got to his feet. “Tell her I’ll be there in a minute.”
With that, the bird turned and flew away, first landing on the eagle statue atop the well house. After Glenn scanned the area one more time, he stepped off the porch and trotted around the well house and made his way, angling to move toward the building roughly under the moon.
As he approached, he spotted Stephi. Her white blouse stuck out in the shadowy darkness as she stepped from between two buildings. One was a pottery shop, the other Glenn didn’t remember. He didn’t slow down to try to read the sign affixed above the door.
“About time,” she hissed, waving him over to her.
The streets were empty. “About time,” she said again as he came to a stop in front of her. “I’ve been to the temple and worked my way back.”
“Shhh.” Glenn looked around. The streets were quiet at four in the morning, but no sense tempting fate.
Stephi folded her arms across her chest as best she could. Somewhere she’d found a length of string and tied her shirt closed. It appeared to fit better, not ready to burst, and she appeared her normal height. “You were supposed to follow me and catch up.”
Glenn gestured, drawing attention to his legs. “Your legs are ten times longer than mine, and you went the wrong way.”
“Come on,” she said, slipping back between the buildings. “A short cut.”
The space was a little over two feet wide, making it a tight fit for both of them. Above, Glenn heard her blue jay familiar fluttering about.
“Petie doesn’t see well in the dark, but he’s watching ahead.”
Glenn high-stepped over some weeds Stephi tramped down ahead of him. “Can you hear what he hears?”
“If I really concentrate.” She stopped before exiting onto the opposite street. “It’s chilly. You got my bra and cloak?”
Glenn gulped. When he noticed she’d tied her blouse shut, he’d seen what was pressing against it, indicating that she might be cold. “I’m using it as a sack to carry the coins from the stage.”
“Uncomfortable as hell trying to run without support, you know?” She paused, looking down at him. “Maybe you don’t know, but trust me.” Then she glanced down at her chest. “Actually, maybe it was more mental. Physically, it should’ve been worse.” She rubbed her temples. “Weird laws of biology and physics in this parallel—aberrant concurrent world…. Kind of like video games with big-boobed women fighting and running everywhere, jiggling a little but doing everything, like having ginormous breasts is nothing.” She let out an exasperated breath. “Men.”
“Fine,” she continued, looking at Glenn’s makeshift sack. “Keep the cloak but give me my brassiere. And turn around while I put it on.”
“Ummmm,” Glenn said. “It got damaged—but I found someone who’ll fix it.”
She leaned down and pointed to her face. “Eyes right here, gnome. Not down there.”
When he complied, she continued. “Want to say that again?”
“Long story, sort of.” He began sweating. “We need to get to the Temple of Apollo. I can tell you there, okay?”
She stood up straight, and looked away. After huffing once in anger, she said, “You’re as bad as Gurk. He has an excuse.” She spun back around. “He’s like thirteen. You’re supposed to be an adult.”
Glenn shrugged, trying to ignore the way her chest shifted every time she moved. “It wasn’t my fault.”
“Of course not. How hard do you think it’ll be to find a new one?”
“It’ll be fixed tomorrow.” He tried not to sound whiny and pathetic. “At least you didn’t have it on when you decided to grow.”
“I decided? Wasn’t me, Jax.”
“Oh, I sort of didn’t thinks so…but someone caused it. It helped out with the coins.”
“And started the riot.”
“Well, whatever happened to you didn’t last.”
“Thank God,” she said. “Wore off a minute or two after we got out the back door.”
She closed her eyes for a few seconds. “Quiet, Petie sees some guards. They’re patrolling.”
Both backed up a few yards, going deeper into the shadows, where the magical light of the scattered streetlamps couldn’t reach.
After a few minutes Stephi said, “Come on, coast is clear. We should make it to the temple in twenty minutes.”
“Plan on thirty,” Glenn said, trying to keep up with her long strides.
Glenn and Stephi approached the side door. A small flower garden with fancy latticework largely blocked it from view, but a stone path led up to it.
“Halt,” a deep voice said from within the planted area. Glenn caught sight of a man, probably a guard, near the side door, holding a halberd.
Stephi stepped back, behind Glenn. “You do the talking.”
Glenn held his hands out, making it easy for the guard to see them. Well, maybe not if he were human, but better to be safe than hacked with the axe head of that big polearm. “We’re here for an appointment. Oarlah, Priestess of Apollo is supposed to cast a spell on a friend before sunrise.”
“On who?” the guard said, suspicion in his voice. “The tall one behind you?”
“No, sir,” Glenn replied. “My other friends are br
inging the body from the Magistrate’s Courthouse.”
“Body?” The guard took a defensive stance with his halberd. “Your friend is dead, then?”
“She is, sir.”
“I don’t know what your game is, dwarf. Powerful as Priestess Oarlah is, she cannot revive the dead.” He pointed his halberd down at Glenn. “I recommend you move along and wait for sunrise, and for the temple’s doors to open.”
Glenn thought about trying to bribe the guard. Was that how things worked? But trying it might get him run through by the polearm’s spiked tip currently pointed at him.
“Way to go, Jax,” Stephi said. “You’re as incompetent as Lysine and Kalgore.”
“Lysine?” the guard asked.
“Yeah,” Stephi said tugging Glenn back and standing in his place. “Afri…ah, dark-skinned warrior. Pretty smart. Goes around with a muscle-bound guy, missing a tooth and carries a sword on his back.”
“Both of you step back, out of the garden.”
As they did, Stephi whispered down to Glenn, “You forgot to name drop.”
“I mentioned the priestess.”
“Whatever.”
The guard knocked on the door, and conferred with someone within. A few moments later, Stephi and Glenn were ushered into a small room the size of a walk-in closet. A single candle burned in a sconce opposite the door. Along the wooden wall, under the candle, rested a narrow table. On the wall at the head of the table, or maybe the foot, nevertheless to the right, hung a painting depicting the same scene that included the statue in the main temple area.
After the thick door was closed, Glenn listened for any sort of a lock or bar placed across it. None that he noted.
Stephi said, “Dump the coins on the table and give me my cloak.”
Glenn complied, carefully untwisting and then unfolding the green cloak before lifting the handfuls of coins onto the polished table.
“Hurry up,” Stephi said. “Did you see the way that guard leered at me?”
Glenn thought she’d better get used to that, at least for as long as they were trapped in the alternate world. Stephi was attractive in the real world, but nothing like she was now. The effect she had was sort of magical. He, however, was wise enough, despite his low wisdom score, not to express those thoughts aloud.
Instead, as he separated coins and stacked them, he said, “You might want to get a different color cloak. Men at the Blue Bugle might see you in that green one and put two and two together.”
“Wonderful,” she said, having not considered that. “Maybe I can get one the same place I get a new bra so my boobs don’t bounce around like dueling-perve dinner bells.”
That last comment finally penetrated Glenn’s positive gnomish nature. He slammed his hand into the stacks of coins he’d been building, sending them scattering, many onto the floor. “Screw you, Marigold.”
He turned with a snarl on his lips. “Everything isn’t all about you and your troubles.” He pointed up at her, leaning against the wall in the cramped room. “You’re an elf that’s freakishly tall and freakishly beautiful. This world’s full of freaks. I ran across a half-goblin dude named Roary married to a butt-ugly half-ogre who wanted to stomp me into the mud.
“You, you—you, woe is you. Look at me.” He stood straight and puffed out his chest. “Freakishly short, dismissed and laughed at.” He turned around to face the table and stretched his hand as far as it could go. “Tell you what, I’ll pick up the coins off the floor because I can reach those. You get the ones on the normal table I can’t reach. Be sure to kick me around while I’m down, Princess ‘Only One Who Thinks It Sucks to be Here.’ You’re getting pretty damn good at it.
“And when you get a new cloak, buy a skirt too because, runty little pervert that I am, all I’ll be interested in is trying to sneak a peek up under it. You know, provide you some more righteous indignation. Something new to bitch about.”
Glenn pulled out his everlast candle and began crawling around on the floor, gathering up iron, copper, bronze and silver coins and tossing them into his shield. He heard the scrape of coins across the table, as well as sniffling. He couldn’t hold onto his anger. It felt like a stack of cinder blocks had been lifted off his chest, but left a twist of guilt in his guts. Tearing someone else down to make yourself feel better was never right. Then why did he feel half-good about what he’d said?
After checking every corner of the small room, he stood up and placed his candle and shield filled with coins on the table. “Sorry, Marigold. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Her green elven eyes were shedding tears, but hadn’t turned red. None of the puffiness associated with crying seemed to afflict her. Glenn just shook his head. “This world is weird almost as much as it sucks.”
Stephi took a deep breath. “No, Jax, you shouldn’t have said that. Just like I shouldn’t have said all those things about you.”
Glenn took her hands. “Don’t cry. I’ll try to do better.”
She smiled down at her friend. It was so radiant that he looked away.
“What?”
Glenn shrugged. “You know, every straight guy that sees you will be transfixed by your smile. We can’t help it. Probably half the gay ones too.”
She laughed, hefting her breasts under her hands. “These probably help.”
Glenn laughed back. “Ya think?”
“Let’s count coins and you can tell me about how you lost my bra and almost got stomped by a butt-ugly half-ogre wife.”
“Okay,” Glenn said, trying to keep mirth in his voice. It was easy to see that there wasn’t anywhere near the forty gold needed for the Tether Spell.
Kim’s wrapped body lay on the table. A fresher white covering had been placed over her makeshift canvas one. Shadows of her bloodstains showed through.
Ron and Derek had arrived with Kim’s body ten minutes after Glenn and Stephi finished stacking and counting the coins.
The warriors looked a little roughed up, bruised and scuffed. Nothing was broken and no teeth were lost. Well, none, other than the tooth Derek was already missing.
As sunrise approached, less than an hour away, Glenn offered to absorb their injuries. His spell powers would renew, so why not? Better than the two warriors walking around battered and bruised, especially when it wasn’t necessary.
Ron offered to use his two spells, but then wondered if doing so within the temple of a god he didn’t worship would be considered an affront.
Glenn told himself, and Ron, it’d be good for practice. Nevertheless, the gnome healer winced both times the throbbing and aches manifested across his body.
Rejuvenated, they counted the coins. Eighty-three irons, one-hundred and nine bronze, twenty-six copper, twenty-two-silver, and eight gold coins. Ron added his two gold coins, which Derek reminded him wasn’t a bad haul gambling for such a short time, under a deadline.
It all converted to eleven gold coins and change.
Not nearly enough for the Tether Spell, and sunrise was less than an hour away. Kirby was the last piece of the puzzle, determining if Kim lived—or had a chance to be revived—or her soul moved on.
The small room quickly became stuffy with four living bodies in it. Reluctantly, Stephi shed her cloak.
Derek’s eyebrows rose, with a sexually off-color remark ready on his lips.
“Say anything out of line,” Glenn said, “and expect to be spitting teeth.”
Derek flexed his muscles and looked down at the gnome. “Really? Seeing you try that should be entertaining.”
Glenn reached for his cudgel.
Ron forced himself between them. “Jax is in the right.” He turned to face Derek. Although Ron was a warrior, Derek was a few inches taller and a few stat points stronger than Ron. None of that deterred the warrior druid.
“Kalgore, Marigold is attired in such a manner due to her efforts securing funds to save Byeol.” Ron gestured to the wrapped body on the table. “Beyond that, as a party member, she should be afforded ou
r respect.”
Derek grinned and laughed. “Just kidding, little guy.”
“None taken, illiterate oaf.”
Derek tried to shove Ron aside, but the warrior druid was ready for it. Everything stopped when a rapier’s tip appeared inches from Derek’s face.
“Listen, Kalgore the Courageous, or whatever you call yourself. Keep it up and I’ll Slumber Spell your ass. Then Jax and I will flip an iron piece to see if he gets to pulverize your balls with his club or I castrate you with my sword.”
Ron pushed her blade’s tip from its position in front of Derek’s face. “Threats will not facilitate a resolution to this conflict.”
“Maybe sexual harassment is built into this game,” Stephi said, “but that doesn’t mean I have to put up with it from someone outside the stupid game world who should know better.”
Derek stepped back. “Who was it who stopped you from getting gang raped by that crowd? It wasn’t Jax, or Gurk. It was me and Lysine.”
A moment of awkward silence fell among the party.
“Thank you for that,” Stephi said, sheathing her rapier. “Both of you. But that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like a piece of meat, Kalgore.”
Glenn let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Look, Kalgore.” He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Marigold can’t help it. Look at you.” He pointed at Derek’s biceps. “You’ve got muscles to spare. You’re at the top of the chart. If you had muscles in parity to her looks—off the chart—you’d be able to arm-wrestle a frikkin ogre, and win.”
Derek’s eyebrows scrunched down in thought. “Okay,” he said. “Marigold, I’m sorry.”
Glenn didn’t think the apology was completely sincere and knew it when Derek went on.
The muscular warrior gestured towards Stephi’s chest. “But put a bra on or something. Sweating and all, it’s like a wet T-shirt contest or something.”
Stephi turned away, embarrassed.
It wasn’t that bad, Glenn thought, but then maybe it was. Not the dampness, but the sheer size combined—
Outpost: A LitRPG Adventure (Monsters, Maces and Magic Book 1) Page 13
