foeofthelance

Foe looked back and forth between Grim an the orc, then sighed and drained the rest of his tankard in three large swallows. The silver tankard rang as he slammed it back down onto the table. “Sorry, Fred, but I’m stacking the odds. Five hundred gold pieces...on me.”

Foe pushed back from the table and walked over to the cage where Grim and the orc were starting to strip down. The crowd had been wagering vociferously, but as soon as the more veteran patrons saw Foe approaching another round of wagering broke out. He could see the pipsqueak running back and forth through the crowd, trying to collect bets of her own. He hoped she was at least betting on Grim, but he was going to need the half-orc in one piece. That meant stepping in before things got out of hand.
<Silverclaw?> the orc barked as he watched Foe step into the cage with him and Grim. <You interfere in this? That is not fair! The half-breed insulted my tribe and honor demands his blood!>
<I do interfere,> Foe growled back. Orcish was a harsh language, sort of like gargling broken glass. He was mildly interested to note that Grim looked confused. It appeared that the half-orc wasn’t really following the language very well. <The little one is an idjit. She tries to make trouble for her own amusement. But I need this one in one piece, and do not have time for him to heal. So I’m afraid I must interfere. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. And I will fight him as well.’
”What are you two croaking about?” Grim demanded. “What are you doing? This is MY fight!”
“This is a set up,” Foe answered. “One I’m going to tan Kassie’s hide for once we’re done. Actually, considering what I’m going to have to do, I might just give her to Thelanjir as a gift once we get back. He’s going to earn a bit of a reward...”
“Thelanjir?” Grim looked confused.
“The big guy over there,” Foe answered with a nod towards the orc. He stepped up Grim’s side. “Local chieftain of the Karembaski tribe. They’re the locals for this part of the forest. I’ve worked with them a time or two, probably murdered the other half. Don’t ever try to beat him in a drinking contest, the fucker cheats. So when the bell rings, we rush him, got that?”
“Yeah, sure,” Grim grunted.
The bell rang right on cue, and Grim started to rush towards Thelanjir. Foe, however, reached out and grabbed Grim by the back of the neck. Grim out out a startled gasp as Foe’s hand squeezed, pinching tight the nerves running along the half-orc’s spine. The half-orc let out a grunt and dropped to the ground. Foe looked at him and shrugged. “Probably should have told you these are always free for alls before we started.”
The crowd roared, half in excitement and half in disappointment, at least those who had bet on Grim. Their noise drowned out Thelanjir’s battlecry but Foe just shrugged and motioned for the orc to charge. Thelanjir didn’t disappoint. He ran across at full speed, throwing an uppercut that connected solidly with Foe’s jaw. Foe’s head snapped back as his bell rang like a bell. Two more punches sang in, one catching Foe across the side of the head, the second doubling him over as it sank into his stomach. Foe stumbled backwards, clutching his stomach as he wheezed for air. 
<Nice shots,> Foe gurgled as he straightened up and spat blood.
<Enough that I get the little one when you return?> Thelanjir laughed.
<Assuming she survives, of course,> Foe agreed. Then he charged forward, dropping under Thelanjir’s counter-attack to sweep the orc’s legs out from underneath. Thelanjir landed heavily, bouncing off the wooden floor as Foe completed his spin, flipping at the half way mark so that the same leg came back down on Thelanjir’s belly. The orc grunted, let his head sag sideways, already unconscious. Foe knelt down and checked the orc’s pulse, then grabbed Grim by the arm and started to drag him out of the cage. He made a note to tell Kassie about the bargain...but not until after they got back.

Foe looked down at the two daggers Kassie had set on the table with a look of wry amusement. He turned and grinned and Bronx. “She does seem well provisioned, doesn’t she?”
He pulled his own sword and set it on the table, followed by the two daggers that were sitting at his belt. They were followed by the two daggers that were tucked into his boots. (One each, of course.) Then he reached back, scratched his neck, and pulled his last hold out down in front of Kassie. “Here. You never know when you’re going to run out. And stop threatening to castrate the client, it tends to make them nervous about hiring us again. if you really need to get that itch scratched, just go ask the bartender. There are lots of satyrs upstairs who’d be more than willing to sate your needs.”
He shook his head and glanced at the ceiling. “I last ate...two weeks ago? So should be good there. Spell supplies are up to date, collapsible ten foot pole is in one of these pouches. Somewhere. We haven’t had to dungeon delve in a while, so… I don’t think we actually need anything. I recently acquired two self-deploying ablative trap locators, so we should be  good on that score.”
He watched as Kassie’s lips worked out the last sentence. “Hey!”
“Oh, relax,” Foe chuckled. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a couple of small stone rats. “I’m talking about these. I know the catacombs we are looking at. This necromancer is just the latest chucklehead to make it home. Before that it was the Cult of Gorlasiz. Ugly ass demon, great orgies.”
Bronx and nodded. “And before them it was the Followers of Arbelan.”
“The Scions of the Cracked Axe...”
“Vorlin the Detestable and his clan of reavers….”
“The Cult of Semai...”
“The Children of Zenaxis...”
"Semai the Read Handed… Someone really should have told him how to write that down...”
“Oooh! Draglos the Twin Cocked! Not actually evil, but damn were there a lot of husbands looking for him...”
“I donn’t remember him,” Foe said with a smile. “I though the Cult of Gorlasiz had it before Semai.”
Grim frowned. “You already mentioned them.”
Foe nodded. “Certain demons are only able to enter this world in specific spots. Typically one that align with their own domains in the Abyss. Gorlasiz is a putz who can’t handle the fact that he’s never going to get a real toe hold in the mortal  world. And he owes me money.”
Their client looked flabbergasted. “How do you know all this? Those catacombs are ancient! No one knows who even built them, so how can you know all this?”
Bronx grunted a laugh as Foe leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, but they’re solidly built. The name of the person who originally had them built has been long since been lost, but I do know it was originally built as a sanctuary to Saraina.”
That caused three different spit takes. Only Bronx didn’t flinch. Kassie blurted out, “The Goddess of Death?”
Foe shrugged. “Who else are you going to ask to watch over a bunch of corpses? Long story short, that place has gone through so many different tenants and they’ve all added their own nasty little touches. So really, this ought to be very entertaining.”

Foe looked down at the two daggers Kassie had set on the table with a look of wry amusement. He turned and grinned and Bronx. “She does seem well provisioned, doesn’t she?”
He pulled his own sword and set it on the table, followed by the two daggers that were sitting at his belt. They were followed by the two daggers that were tucked into his boots. (One each, of course.) Then he reached back, scratched his neck, and pulled his last hold out down in front of Kassie. “Here. You never know when you’re going to run out. And stop threatening to castrate the client, it tends to make them nervous about hiring us again. if you really need to get that itch scratched, just go ask the bartender. There are lots of satyrs upstairs who’d be more than willing to sate your needs.”
He shook his head and glanced at the ceiling. “I last ate...two weeks ago? So should be good there. Spell supplies are up to date, collapsible ten foot pole is in one of these pouches. Somewhere. We haven’t had to dungeon delve in a while, so… I don’t think we actually need anything. I recently acquired two self-deploying ablative trap locators, so we should be  good on that score.”
He watched as Kassie’s lips worked out the last sentence. “Hey!”
“Oh, relax,” Foe chuckled. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a couple of small stone rats. “I’m talking about these. I know the catacombs we are looking at. This necromancer is just the latest chucklehead to make it home. Before that it was the Cult of Gorlasiz. Ugly ass demon, great orgies.”
Bronx and nodded. “And before them it was the Followers of Arbelan.”
“The Scions of the Cracked Axe...”
“Vorlin the Detestable and his clan of reavers….”
“The Cult of Semai...”
“The Children of Zenaxis...”
"Semai the Read Handed… Someone really should have told him how to write that down...”
“Oooh! Draglos the Twin Cocked! Not actually evil, but damn were there a lot of husbands looking for him...”
“I donn’t remember him,” Foe said with a smile. “I though the Cult of Gorlasiz had it before Semai.”
Grim frowned. “You already mentioned them.”
Foe nodded. “Certain demons are only able to enter this world in specific spots. Typically one that align with their own domains in the Abyss. Gorlasiz is a putz who can’t handle the fact that he’s never going to get a real toe hold in the mortal  world. And he owes me money.”
Their client looked flabbergasted. “How do you know all this? Those catacombs are ancient! No one knows who even built them, so how can you know all this?”
Bronx grunted a laugh as Foe leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, but they’re solidly built. The name of the person who originally had them built has been long since been lost, but I do know it was originally built as a sanctuary to Saraina.”
That caused three different spit takes. Only Bronx didn’t flinch. Kassie blurted out, “The Goddess of Death?”
Foe shrugged. “Who else are you going to ask to watch over a bunch of corpses? Long story short, that place has gone through so many different tenants and they’ve all added their own nasty little touches. So really, this ought to be very entertaining.”

“So...so does this mean you’ll do it?” the gnome asked hopefully. There was a certain glimmer in his eyes that made Foe cock an eyebrow. Admittedly, getting rid of a curse would make anyone hopeful, but at this point Foe and Bronx had been stabbed in the back so often that their clients were running out of places to put the next dagger. On the other hand, those were the clients they only tended to take care of once. After all, it wasn’t like a dead man could hire them twice. Still, it was a rare and welcome treat when one of their clients was entirely upfront with them from the get go. It wasn’t like there was a purpose to lying, not when they’d probably take the job anyway. ’Can’t remember the last time we didn’t take a job,’ Foe mused as he sipped his mead. ’No, wait. It was when that prat Corbalain was still king, wasn’t it? That circle of mages that wanted us to torch the orphanage. Would have done it, if only they hadn't wanted us to make sure the kids were still inside when it went up.’
Foe snorted at the thought. It wasn’t that he and Bronx were bad people, it was just...well, after you spent a long enough time on the road, things like morals and ethics just didn’t seem worth the bother half the time. They’d been murderers and thieves, pillaged graves and cities. Kidnapping, of course. Slavers, for a while. Though...not very good slavers. They’d never quite gotten around to actually selling any of the various damsels and pretty boys they’d ended up collecting. Granted, there’d been that small matter of the Brotherhood of Calain which had interfered. When the paladins from the local chapterhouse had decided to investigate why so many travelers had disappeared, they’d sent the better part of a brigade out to hunt the pair down. One thing had led to another, and the next thing anyone knew he and Bronx had somehow ended up conquering half the Ox Coast in the name of said Brotherhood...
’Really should look up Fartrras sometime,’ Foe thought as he set his mug down. ’See if the old battleaxe is any closer to tracking down the two “archdemons” he thinks were responsible.’
”Aye, we’re in,” Foe agreed. He glanced at Grim and Kassie. “And don’t worry about the extra bodies, we’ll stick to the price negotiated. These two will come out of our keep.”
He glanced at Bronx, who smiled, ’Well, more likely out of whatever we end up looting from the necromancer. Flesh golems aren’t cheap to make. Should be a few pretties laying around...but you’re not hiring us to bring those back, so why bother mentioning them?’
Though that did raise the question of anything else that they might find down there. Necromancers were always a troublesome lot, what with a tendency to kill first, and never even bothering to ask questions. The traps they were likely to face were going to be less inclined to giant stone blocks  and swinging blades of doom and more towards the sort of death spells that left behind useful body parts for later use. Why stitch a zombie back together again when it was so much easier to just choke the air from someone’s lungs? And if the spellcaster in question had enough resources to be selling flesh golems, that meant they likely had more than a few cold bodies to throw in the way…
’Though maybe she’s a cute necromancer,’ Foe thought with a smile. ’Haven’t gotten to play with one of those in a while… And I suppose if its a good enough looking he I can just let Bronx have him.’
He studied the newest members of their little raiding party. The thief was going to be a pain to keep alive, that much was obvious. The half-orc had the look of a fighter, but the way he kept fidgeting made Foe wonder if he was as green as the thief. Strong then, probably skilled enough that no one in whatever podunk village he hailed from ever bothered him much, but not so much used to all the batshit insanity their world truly held. Whispers of a spell curled through his mind as he clapped both newcomers on the shoulder. “Welcome to the team! Try not to get killed, we don’t pay for resurrections till at least your third trip out...”
 
 
 

“So...so does this mean you’ll do it?” the gnome asked hopefully. There was a certain glimmer in his eyes that made Foe cock an eyebrow. Admittedly, getting rid of a curse would make anyone hopeful, but at this point Foe and Bronx had been stabbed in the back so often that their clients were running out of places to put the next dagger. On the other hand, those were the clients they only tended to take care of once. After all, it wasn’t like a dead man could hire them twice. Still, it was a rare and welcome treat when one of their clients was entirely upfront with them from the get go. It wasn’t like there was a purpose to lying, not when they’d probably take the job anyway. ’Can’t remember the last time we didn’t take a job,’ Foe mused as he sipped his mead. ’No, wait. It was when that prat Corbalain was still king, wasn’t it? That circle of mages that wanted us to torch the orphanage. Would have done it, if only they hadn't wanted us to make sure the kids were still inside when it went up.’
Foe snorted at the thought. It wasn’t that he and Bronx were bad people, it was just...well, after you spent a long enough time on the road, things like morals and ethics just didn’t seem worth the bother half the time. They’d been murderers and thieves, pillaged graves and cities. Kidnapping, of course. Slavers, for a while. Though...not very good slavers. They’d never quite gotten around to actually selling any of the various damsels and pretty boys they’d ended up collecting. Granted, there’d been that small matter of the Brotherhood of Calain which had interfered. When the paladins from the local chapterhouse had decided to investigate why so many travelers had disappeared, they’d sent the better part of a brigade out to hunt the pair down. One thing had led to another, and the next thing anyone knew he and Bronx had somehow ended up conquering half the Ox Coast in the name of said Brotherhood...
’Really should look up Fartrras sometime,’ Foe thought as he set his mug down. ’See if the old battleaxe is any closer to tracking down the two “archdemons” he thinks were responsible.’
”Aye, we’re in,” Foe agreed. He glanced at Grim and Kassie. “And don’t worry about the extra bodies, we’ll stick to the price negotiated. These two will come out of our keep.”
He glanced at Bronx, who smiled, ’Well, more likely out of whatever we end up looting from the necromancer. Flesh golems aren’t cheap to make. Should be a few pretties laying around...but you’re not hiring us to bring those back, so why bother mentioning them?’
Though that did raise the question of anything else that they might find down there. Necromancers were always a troublesome lot, what with a tendency to kill first, and never even bothering to ask questions. The traps they were likely to face were going to be less inclined to giant stone blocks  and swinging blades of doom and more towards the sort of death spells that left behind useful body parts for later use. Why stitch a zombie back together again when it was so much easier to just choke the air from someone’s lungs? And if the spellcaster in question had enough resources to be selling flesh golems, that meant they likely had more than a few cold bodies to throw in the way…
’Though maybe she’s a cute necromancer,’ Foe thought with a smile. ’Haven’t gotten to play with one of those in a while… And I suppose if its a good enough looking he I can just let Bronx have him.’
He studied the newest members of their little raiding party. The thief was going to be a pain to keep alive, that much was obvious. The half-orc had the look of a fighter, but the way he kept fidgeting made Foe wonder if he was as green as the thief. Strong then, probably skilled enough that no one in whatever podunk village he hailed from ever bothered him much, but not so much used to all the batshit insanity their world truly held. Whispers of a spell curled through his mind as he clapped both newcomers on the shoulder. “Welcome to the team! Try not to get killed, we don’t pay for resurrections till at least your third trip out...”
 
 
 

“So...so does this mean you’ll do it?” the gnome asked hopefully. There was a certain glimmer in his eyes that made Foe cock an eyebrow. Admittedly, getting rid of a curse would make anyone hopeful, but at this point Foe and Bronx had been stabbed in the back so often that their clients were running out of places to put the next dagger. On the other hand, those were the clients they only tended to take care of once. After all, it wasn’t like a dead man could hire them twice. Still, it was a rare and welcome treat when one of their clients was entirely upfront with them from the get go. It wasn’t like there was a purpose to lying, not when they’d probably take the job anyway. ’Can’t remember the last time we didn’t take a job,’ Foe mused as he sipped his mead. ’No, wait. It was when that prat Corbalain was still king, wasn’t it? That circle of mages that wanted us to torch the orphanage. Would have done it, if only they hadn't wanted us to make sure the kids were still inside when it went up.’
Foe snorted at the thought. It wasn’t that he and Bronx were bad people, it was just...well, after you spent a long enough time on the road, things like morals and ethics just didn’t seem worth the bother half the time. They’d been murderers and thieves, pillaged graves and cities. Kidnapping, of course. Slavers, for a while. Though...not very good slavers. They’d never quite gotten around to actually selling any of the various damsels and pretty boys they’d ended up collecting. Granted, there’d been that small matter of the Brotherhood of Calain which had interfered. When the paladins from the local chapterhouse had decided to investigate why so many travelers had disappeared, they’d sent the better part of a brigade out to hunt the pair down. One thing had led to another, and the next thing anyone knew he and Bronx had somehow ended up conquering half the Ox Coast in the name of said Brotherhood...
’Really should look up Fartrras sometime,’ Foe thought as he set his mug down. ’See if the old battleaxe is any closer to tracking down the two “archdemons” he thinks were responsible.’
”Aye, we’re in,” Foe agreed. He glanced at Grim and Kassie. “And don’t worry about the extra bodies, we’ll stick to the price negotiated. These two will come out of our keep.”
He glanced at Bronx, who smiled, ’Well, more likely out of whatever we end up looting from the necromancer. Flesh golems aren’t cheap to make. Should be a few pretties laying around...but you’re not hiring us to bring those back, so why bother mentioning them?’
Though that did raise the question of anything else that they might find down there. Necromancers were always a troublesome lot, what with a tendency to kill first, and never even bothering to ask questions. The traps they were likely to face were going to be less inclined to giant stone blocks  and swinging blades of doom and more towards the sort of death spells that left behind useful body parts for later use. Why stitch a zombie back together again when it was so much easier to just choke the air from someone’s lungs? And if the spellcaster in question had enough resources to be selling flesh golems, that meant they likely had more than a few cold bodies to throw in the way…
’Though maybe she’s a cute necromancer,’ Foe thought with a smile. ’Haven’t gotten to play with one of those in a while… And I suppose if its a good enough looking he I can just let Bronx have him.’
He studied the newest members of their little raiding party. The thief was going to be a pain to keep alive, that much was obvious. The half-orc had the look of a fighter, but the way he kept fidgeting made Foe wonder if he was as green as the thief. Strong then, probably skilled enough that no one in whatever podunk village he hailed from ever bothered him much, but not so much used to all the batshit insanity their world truly held. Whispers of a spell curled through his mind as he clapped both newcomers on the shoulder. “Welcome to the team! Try not to get killed, we don’t pay for resurrections till at least your third trip out...”
 
 
 

Foe frowned into his mead as he listened to the newcomer babble. He recognized a neophyte when he saw one, and the fact that she was parading around announcing she was the Queen of Thieves was just the most obvious. There were  a dozen different Queens running around that he could think of just off the top of his head, at least three of whom were currently reigning from inside some city guards’ dungeon. The fact that her current Majesty had been foolish enough to try and steal Bronx’s bow right off the table in front of them. That wasn’t just stupid – it was damned near suicidal. The only two reasons the girl wasn’t a headless, bleeding stump was first, because Bronx didn’t want to scare off the client and second, because Bronx considered it ill mannered to execute amateurs. It was clearly the girl’s first time at the Tavern, or she wouldn’t have made such a big deal about the half orc. As it was, there were at least four full blooded orcs who were currently staring at them, muttering about the “pig men” comment. 
He caught the eye of the biggest orc and shook his head slightly. The girl’s back was to him, so Foe pointed to her, then stuck out his tongue, crossed his eyes, and wagged his head back and forth. The orc barked a laugh and let go of the dagger he’d been fingering. The orcs who frequented the tavern mostly came from the local tribes, and understood the tavern’s rules. Besides, there was no honor to be had in fighting with an idiot. Against Foe and Bronx, yes. They weren’t exactly famous in the wider world at larger, but in the Tavern they had a well earned reputation for finishing more fights than they started. Better yet, they didn’t go for the kill quite so often as some of the more blood thirsty residents. Instead they gave as they were given, and left it at that. 
He rubbed one of the rings on his left hand, tossing up a bubble of silence that would keep the little girl from getting them into any more trouble, then turned his attention back to the gnome as their client finally addressed him directly. Bronx snickered at the question, and Foe just let out a sigh. “Not quite permanently, but yeah, there’s an alchemist in Sendmar who really needs to learn the difference between naga scales and gorgon scales. What I don’t get is how the head and shaft got separated in the first place.”
The gnome hung his head back and sighed. “Well, after the cock broke, the wizard grabbed the shaft and vanished, leaving my grandfather with the head. He didn’t realize quite what the curse was going to do until well after he’d gotten back home, and by that time he’d already traded the head for the supplies he needed for his journey. I had to go to half a dozen different mages to get enough scrying spells to locate the head. The shaft however...”
“Is still with the wizard, I’m assuming,” Bronx stated blandly.
“Well, no,” the gnome answered hesitantly. “From what I’ve managed to gather, he never wanted the ruby for himself, you see. He needed it for a trade. Of sorts.”
Foe began to count down the number of beings that would be interested in a powerful magical artifact. Demons, devils, dragons, the odd demi-god or two, maybe even an actual god if they were unlucky. “What sort of trade?”
“He wanted a harem, but one that would last as long as he lived,” the gnome blurted out. “And since wizards with for centuries, a simple gathering of women wouldn’t work.”
“Elves?” Bronx spat.
The gnome shook his head. “No elf with any sort of self-esteem would sleep with a mere hedge wizard, let alone share him. Besides, most elves aren’t nearly as well endowed. He had very particular tastes, and so he went to the one person who could give him what he wanted. Golems made of flesh...”
Foe and Bronx turned and shared a look, stating in unison, “Necromancer.”

Foe frowned into his mead as he listened to the newcomer babble. He recognized a neophyte when he saw one, and the fact that she was parading around announcing she was the Queen of Thieves was just the most obvious. There were  a dozen different Queens running around that he could think of just off the top of his head, at least three of whom were currently reigning from inside some city guards’ dungeon. The fact that her current Majesty had been foolish enough to try and steal Bronx’s bow right off the table in front of them. That wasn’t just stupid – it was damned near suicidal. The only two reasons the girl wasn’t a headless, bleeding stump was first, because Bronx didn’t want to scare off the client and second, because Bronx considered it ill mannered to execute amateurs. It was clearly the girl’s first time at the Tavern, or she wouldn’t have made such a big deal about the half orc. As it was, there were at least four full blooded orcs who were currently staring at them, muttering about the “pig men” comment. 
He caught the eye of the biggest orc and shook his head slightly. The girl’s back was to him, so Foe pointed to her, then stuck out his tongue, crossed his eyes, and wagged his head back and forth. The orc barked a laugh and let go of the dagger he’d been fingering. The orcs who frequented the tavern mostly came from the local tribes, and understood the tavern’s rules. Besides, there was no honor to be had in fighting with an idiot. Against Foe and Bronx, yes. They weren’t exactly famous in the wider world at larger, but in the Tavern they had a well earned reputation for finishing more fights than they started. Better yet, they didn’t go for the kill quite so often as some of the more blood thirsty residents. Instead they gave as they were given, and left it at that. 
He rubbed one of the rings on his left hand, tossing up a bubble of silence that would keep the little girl from getting them into any more trouble, then turned his attention back to the gnome as their client finally addressed him directly. Bronx snickered at the question, and Foe just let out a sigh. “Not quite permanently, but yeah, there’s an alchemist in Sendmar who really needs to learn the difference between naga scales and gorgon scales. What I don’t get is how the head and shaft got separated in the first place.”
The gnome hung his head back and sighed. “Well, after the cock broke, the wizard grabbed the shaft and vanished, leaving my grandfather with the head. He didn’t realize quite what the curse was going to do until well after he’d gotten back home, and by that time he’d already traded the head for the supplies he needed for his journey. I had to go to half a dozen different mages to get enough scrying spells to locate the head. The shaft however...”
“Is still with the wizard, I’m assuming,” Bronx stated blandly.
“Well, no,” the gnome answered hesitantly. “From what I’ve managed to gather, he never wanted the ruby for himself, you see. He needed it for a trade. Of sorts.”
Foe began to count down the number of beings that would be interested in a powerful magical artifact. Demons, devils, dragons, the odd demi-god or two, maybe even an actual god if they were unlucky. “What sort of trade?”
“He wanted a harem, but one that would last as long as he lived,” the gnome blurted out. “And since wizards with for centuries, a simple gathering of women wouldn’t work.”
“Elves?” Bronx spat.
The gnome shook his head. “No elf with any sort of self-esteem would sleep with a mere hedge wizard, let alone share him. Besides, most elves aren’t nearly as well endowed. He had very particular tastes, and so he went to the one person who could give him what he wanted. Golems made of flesh...”
Foe and Bronx turned and shared a look, stating in unison, “Necromancer.”

I’m going to rename and pin this thread so we can use it as a general chat thread for the Orgy

I’m going to rename and pin this thread so we can use it as a general chat thread for the Orgy

The Tavern itself was not a rumor, though rumor claimed it was such. The truth was that it did exist, far out in the middle of the woods, where no path could find it and no map could mark it. That was rather the point, after all. If you couldn’t find the tavern, then you didn’t belong there. But it wasn’t just enough to know where it was, you also had to be able to survive the trip, for the woods were dark and full of terror.
 
Or…
 
“Come on, is that all you’ve got?” The young man chortled as he fended off half a dozen blades with his own lone sword. He had surrounded half a dozen somewhat furious orcs in a small clearing. The whirling swordsman was dressed in a black leather vest with matching kilt, both tinged with dark red straps, the metal a bright silver-gold. The hilt of his katana had been shaped to resemble a rearing silver dragon, its wings spread and mouth opened in full-throated challenge, while its grip was wrapped in black and silver fabric.
 
His opponents, on the other hand, were armed much more crudely, if just as effectively. Their own leathers were stitched together almost at random, a patchwork of protection harvested from dozens of different animals, armed with black iron swords that were closer to clubs, rather than blades. But while their weapons and clothes were crude, their tactics weren’t. Three hung back while three worked forward, cutting off any chance of escape, and the three that worked forward were good at staying out of each other’s way.
 
“You defiled the river goddess!” One of the orcs roared as he brought his blade down in  nasty overhand chop that shattered the tree the young man was standing in front of as he ducked out of the way.
 
“Well, I wouldn’t so much say defiled…” The young man slid sideways as avoiding a pair of thrusts. He slashed upwards, his blade slicing into the muscle of an orc’s arm. The orc howled as his blade dropped from nerveless fingers. “I mean, nymph, nymphomaniac, how was I supposed to tell the difference? There’s a reason why those words so much alike!”
 
This was clearly not the answers the orcs were looking for. They let out a unified bellow and charged in. Steel rang off iron as their opponent continued his patter. “Come on now, parry, parry thrust, g-ack!”
 
The young man let out a startled squawk as one of the orcs managed to slip past his guard. The blade managed punched through leather, only to glance off the armor beneath. The young man responded by grabbing the orc by the front of his leathers and yanking the orc into a headbut. Bone crunched under bone as the orc stumbled backwards and dropped to the ground completely passed out.
 
“All right, four on one now,” the swordsman giggled as he shook his head to clear the star that were tangoing in front of his eyes. “Do you guys want to give up while this is still a fair fight?”
 
The four remaining orcs took a moment to step back, glanced at one another, then charged back in....only to crumple into a tangled heap as four arrows shot out of the forest to catch each one in the throat.
 
The young man’s shoulders slumped as he turned towards the trees and threw his hands up in exasperation. “Oh, come on, Bronx! I had them!”
 
A slender drow stepped out of the woods, casually hanging her bow back over her shoulders. Long white hair spilled down her back and shoulders. “And? We had an appointment Foe, or did you forget that?”
 
Foe shook his head and reached into a pouch hanging from the side of his belt. He pulled out a rough, uncut ruby about the size of his fist and tossed it to his boss. “Right where the client said it would be. The nymph wasn’t much of an issue. A few thrusts and everything worked out just fine. The orcs, however, were not in the briefing.”
 
“Just a few thrusts, lad?” Bronx tsked and shook her head as they started hiking. “I hope you showed her a better time than that! And you could have just gone all scales and tail to deal with the orcs and saved us the time.”
 
“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” Foe asked as they walked. “And trust me, I made sure the wench was quite satisfied, thank you. We won’t have any trouble on that score.”
 
The pair chatted amicably as they headed back to the Tavern, the center of theirs and many others operations. The building was a long, low stone structure, smoke drifting slowly from the three chimneys mounted in its roof. Large windows had been mounted into one side, casting natural light on the revelry that was going on inside. In the Tavern, food and drink were free, provided by the enchanted cauldrons and kegs that could provide any food or drink requested, within reason. The true purpose of the Tavern was the exchange of information, and the goods that information could obtain. Fighting was discouraged, at least outside of the designated brawling rooms. And for those looking for a different sort of physical activity, the only questions ever asked was if it was all consensual.
 
The perfect place for a bit of an adventure…
 
This here is a link to the artwork of the characters in this adventure.

The Tavern itself was not a rumor, though rumor claimed it was such. The truth was that it did exist, far out in the middle of the woods, where no path could find it and no map could mark it. That was rather the point, after all. If you couldn’t find the tavern, then you didn’t belong there. But it wasn’t just enough to know where it was, you also had to be able to survive the trip, for the woods were dark and full of terror.
 
Or…
 
“Come on, is that all you’ve got?” The young man chortled as he fended off half a dozen blades with his own lone sword. He had surrounded half a dozen somewhat furious orcs in a small clearing. The whirling swordsman was dressed in a black leather vest with matching kilt, both tinged with dark red straps, the metal a bright silver-gold. The hilt of his katana had been shaped to resemble a rearing silver dragon, its wings spread and mouth opened in full-throated challenge, while its grip was wrapped in black and silver fabric.
 
His opponents, on the other hand, were armed much more crudely, if just as effectively. Their own leathers were stitched together almost at random, a patchwork of protection harvested from dozens of different animals, armed with black iron swords that were closer to clubs, rather than blades. But while their weapons and clothes were crude, their tactics weren’t. Three hung back while three worked forward, cutting off any chance of escape, and the three that worked forward were good at staying out of each other’s way.
 
“You defiled the river goddess!” One of the orcs roared as he brought his blade down in  nasty overhand chop that shattered the tree the young man was standing in front of as he ducked out of the way.
 
“Well, I wouldn’t so much say defiled…” The young man slid sideways as avoiding a pair of thrusts. He slashed upwards, his blade slicing into the muscle of an orc’s arm. The orc howled as his blade dropped from nerveless fingers. “I mean, nymph, nymphomaniac, how was I supposed to tell the difference? There’s a reason why those words so much alike!”
 
This was clearly not the answers the orcs were looking for. They let out a unified bellow and charged in. Steel rang off iron as their opponent continued his patter. “Come on now, parry, parry thrust, g-ack!”
 
The young man let out a startled squawk as one of the orcs managed to slip past his guard. The blade managed punched through leather, only to glance off the armor beneath. The young man responded by grabbing the orc by the front of his leathers and yanking the orc into a headbut. Bone crunched under bone as the orc stumbled backwards and dropped to the ground completely passed out.
 
“All right, four on one now,” the swordsman giggled as he shook his head to clear the star that were tangoing in front of his eyes. “Do you guys want to give up while this is still a fair fight?”
 
The four remaining orcs took a moment to step back, glanced at one another, then charged back in....only to crumple into a tangled heap as four arrows shot out of the forest to catch each one in the throat.
 
The young man’s shoulders slumped as he turned towards the trees and threw his hands up in exasperation. “Oh, come on, Bronx! I had them!”
 
A slender drow stepped out of the woods, casually hanging her bow back over her shoulders. Long white hair spilled down her back and shoulders. “And? We had an appointment Foe, or did you forget that?”
 
Foe shook his head and reached into a pouch hanging from the side of his belt. He pulled out a rough, uncut ruby about the size of his fist and tossed it to his boss. “Right where the client said it would be. The nymph wasn’t much of an issue. A few thrusts and everything worked out just fine. The orcs, however, were not in the briefing.”
 
“Just a few thrusts, lad?” Bronx tsked and shook her head as they started hiking. “I hope you showed her a better time than that! And you could have just gone all scales and tail to deal with the orcs and saved us the time.”
 
“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” Foe asked as they walked. “And trust me, I made sure the wench was quite satisfied, thank you. We won’t have any trouble on that score.”
 
The pair chatted amicably as they headed back to the Tavern, the center of theirs and many others operations. The building was a long, low stone structure, smoke drifting slowly from the three chimneys mounted in its roof. Large windows had been mounted into one side, casting natural light on the revelry that was going on inside. In the Tavern, food and drink were free, provided by the enchanted cauldrons and kegs that could provide any food or drink requested, within reason. The true purpose of the Tavern was the exchange of information, and the goods that information could obtain. Fighting was discouraged, at least outside of the designated brawling rooms. And for those looking for a different sort of physical activity, the only questions ever asked was if it was all consensual.
 
The perfect place for a bit of an adventure…
 
This here is a link to the artwork of the characters in this adventure.

Heheh, alright. Let me go cook up the scene...

So fantasy-style guild then?

So fantasy-style guild then?

I am entirely open for restarting the Orgy in a non-fandom based setting. As far as determining various rules, I expect we’d probably keep the biggest ones from the original Orgies, and let it evolve a bit naturally. Bronx, you want to kick it off or should I?

I am entirely open for restarting the Orgy in a non-fandom based setting. As far as determining various rules, I expect we’d probably keep the biggest ones from the original Orgies, and let it evolve a bit naturally. Bronx, you want to kick it off or should I?

A long time ago, a time when the internet still howled through dial up and cell phones weighed as much as a small child, I wrote a story called the Cheerleaders. As with many things on the internet from that long bygone era, it has since vanished into digital oblivion.
But now the The Cheerleaders are back, better written, but still having just as much sex! The first offering in this ongoing serial is available for sale now from BN.com, with Amazon soon to follow! Find it at:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-cheerleaders-f-thelance/1126443845?ean=2940157427368

A long time ago, a time when the internet still howled through dial up and cell phones weighed as much as a small child, I wrote a story called the Cheerleaders. As with many things on the internet from that long bygone era, it has since vanished into digital oblivion.
But now the The Cheerleaders are back, better written, but still having just as much sex! The first offering in this ongoing serial is available for sale now from BN.com, with Amazon soon to follow! Find it at:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-cheerleaders-f-thelance/1126443845?ean=2940157427368

Heh, you know, at some point I should go back to this story...

...make for wonderful targets?

Its true. They're like some sort of vampiric hydra that way.

Currently on chapter 6, at about 22,800 words my self.

Foeofthelance
Legacy of the Vakyr
7,930/40,000 words

Also, writer voice is not speaking voice. If you try to follow the rules of grammar while writing your dialogue, you're more likely to end up with something that sounds stilted or forced.