Chpt. 2) How To Trick Your Friends

  A wicked smile split Christy’s face as she flicked her wrist and summoned a magical contract and quill, “But why don’t we rectify that while we head back to town?”

  “Okay!” Gomne exclaimed happily and stepped forward to reach for the quill, but Wardf held out an armored hand to stop him.

  “You pulled out that contract awfully fast,” Wardf said. It wasn’t a question, but a question was implied. Christy didn’t answer it, instead maintaining her smile, until Wardf finally asked, “What does that contract entail?”

  Christy shrugged as she answered, “Oh, you know, the standard contract stuff. Pay split, an outline of required duties while in the party, tax information, accounting, next of kin in case of death, funeral arrangements, length of servitude.” Christy said the last part in a low mumble in the hopes that Wardf and Gomne wouldn’t hear it.

  But, despite the armor around her, Wardf heard every word, “Length of servitude?!” she exclaimed, “Is that a slave contract?!”

  “Oh, we don’t want to be slaves!” Gomne exclaimed as well, “Christy, how could you try and enslave your friends like this?”

  Christy shook her head, “No, no, no. It’s not a slavery contract. It’s a party contract. That is binding and cannot be broken.” She added the last tidbit in a mumbled rush.

  “Oh, well, if it’s a party contract, then—” Gomne began happily as he reached for the quill again, only to be stopped and interrupted by Wardf again.

  “Can we see the contract?” Wardf asked, extending an armored hand to Christy for the contract.

  A bead of sweat rolled down Christy’s brow as she smiled and said, “Why, of course. Just give me a minute.” She flicked her wrist, and a three-page contract appeared in her hand. She then grabbed the floating quill and dipped it in an inkwell that she also summoned before scratching out something at the top of the document and writing something else in its place. She handed it to Wardf with a smile and said, “Here you go. Let me know if you have any questions.” Wardf took the pages and began reading, stuffing them into her helmet and catching the pages. The first thing Wardf read was the crossed-out word ‘Servent’ and the word ‘PARTY’ written above that.

  Wardf scowled as she read the document, the armor mimicking her movements perfectly as she appeared more and more enraged. “The fuck is this!?” she finally exclaimed, “This is a fucking slave contract!”

  “Firstly, language, Wardf,” Gomne interjected, then turned to Christy, “Secondly, that is a very rude thing to do, Christy. Trying to trick your friends into signing a slavery contract.”

  “It’s not a slave contract. It’s a Party contract,” Christy argued.

  “Oh, well, in that case —” Gomne began to agree when Wardf cut him off.

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  “All you did was cross out ‘Servant’ and write ‘Party’ in large letters! There are still parts in here that state that we’re basically slaves that don’t get paid shit!” Wardf bellowed her armor, magnifying her voice.

  “Oh, that’s bad,” Gomne agreed.

  “SHUT IT GOMNE!” Christy and Wardf yelled simultaneously, both leveling glares at him.

  At that moment, a bark escaped his beard, and a small dog jumped out, growling at them. The dog stood barely half a foot tall, and it had no fur on its mottled grey body other than a small tuft on its head. Its tongue stuck out the side of its mouth, and its black, almost vacant eyes stared in opposite directions. Its growl did not affect anyone. In fact, it sounded rather cute. Gomne cooed and picked up the little dog, “Aww, are you worried about me about me? Don’t worry, papa is just fine, my little gold nugget, yes he is, oh yes, he is.” Gomne then began to kiss the little dog, an action it did not appear to enjoy, but it did start to lick him in return.

  Christy didn’t know how to react to the sudden development and cocked an eyebrow at them, “So, you want to introduce us or…” she left the question hanging, waiting for a response.

  Gomne looked surprised for a moment as he quickly turned his attention to Christy, “Oh, yes, how rude of me. This is Forest, and he’s my familiar and the sweetest little dog a dwarf could have asked for.”

  Christy slowly nodded, then turned back to Wardf and said, “So, back to our negotiations. I’m hearing you want to edit our party contract.”

  “That would be nice,” Gomne agreed and turned to Wardf, “Wardf, would you like to enter negotiations to join a party?”

  Wardf didn’t answer immediately, as her armor mimed her movements, scratching her head and flipping through the contract again and again. Then she made a long-suffering sigh, “Fine. Let’s go back to town and negotiate.”

  Christy clapped her hands together happily, “Yay! Let’s go and get this done!” she immediately sped off toward the town, then she suddenly jerked forward and nearly faceplanted into the mud. Slowly rising back up, she rubbed her neck and remembered, “Oh, yeah, nearly forgot about you, Sir Closter Sinclair,” she said as her cat had suddenly appeared on her head. She scratched it behind the ear and said, “Sorry about that. Okay, now let’s go.”

  Shrugging, Wardf followed after her, and Gomne scowled, mumbling, “What kind of name is Sir Closter Sinclair for a hairy dog.”

  ***

  Berry stood and stretched with a big yawn. “That was a good little nap. Time to get moving,” he said to no one in particular as he began his long march south to Baram. Unfortunately for him, he has to march through the flooded, muddy taiga. Berry looked around as though he just heard a voice, “Taige?” he asked, “I thought I was in a bog?!” The muddy bog smells of shit and piss and squelches as he walks through the shin-high water.

  Gagging, Berry groaned, “Gahh, I feel like there’s continuity issues with this story, and why did you make it smell like that?” he continued through the mud until he reached the other side of the stagnant water where it was less wet. Pine trees grew in small bunches before getting thicker the further in he went. “Stop talking about the forest! I’m still walking through the mud!” Berry bitched, still trudging through the mud. Like the majestic slug, he slogged through the muddied waters at a snail’s pace, “Oh, fuck you!” he yelled, raising his middle finger to the sky as he got to the other side of the stagnant water where it was less wet.

  Berry scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Wow, really making engaging words to describe dry ground.” The water he just left began to rumble and boil, “Oh, what? You going to spray me with boiling water now?” Berry taunted, “That would be another continuity error!” the water stopped boiling, “Yeah, thought so,” then the water began to rise, “Oh, no,” it rose until it took the shape of a muscled man with no head and an inverted whirlpool for legs. “Oh, shit!” Berry yelled as he turned and ran from the water elemental, which quickly began spraying pressurized water that cut down trees in droves. Berry ducked so fast that his hat left his head, and the water passed between his head and hat before his hat fell and landed perfectly on his head as he continued running at full speed. “This is some bullshit!” he yelled as he quickly ran from the water elemental.

  ***