The Annual Monster Hunting Competition gained a lot of popularity after last year’s upset, which left the few survivors of the barbarian team so emotionally scarred, they began new lives as vegan druids.
Only two teams remain: the Long Knights and… “those f%$$ing wizards.”
“Oh, Joshua…” Queen Waifu the 17th covers her mouth as she realizes she pronounced her husband’s name as it is spelled. One of the older wives, Queen Waifu the 12th, correctly says, “YO-shoe-ah.” Then Queen Waifu the 5th says what the youngest wife was about to say, “It’s not so bad for one team to dominate, after the way Killa Gorilla made fools of all the men.” Queen Waifu the 9th scoffs, “They didn’t look like fools to me. They looked like pizzas.”
The pizza comment may have been made by a different queen. King Joshua can’t tell one line of cleavage from another, except that of Queen Waifu the 16th. She’s nursing Prince Joshua Jr. the 4th right now.
The Pirate King is about to say if we could have a third team, that would be great. But before he can get a word in (an impossible feat as six of his wives are arguing about the name of the primate that wasted last year’s barbarians), he notices a warrior clad in a fur… bikini?!
King Joshua adjusts the bill of his tricorn crown.
“A barbarian!” he exclaims to his fiancée. “He looks a little green. Ya think the veganism did that?”
“She,” notes the soon-to-be-Queen Waifu the 18th. “That’s a girl barbarian. Not to speak ill of the dead, but she’s way stronger than any of the men from last year.”
All of the wives who aren’t nursing one of the Josh Juniors or Princess Joshurella all start jabbering at once. In order to have peace and quiet, the king agrees to have a Huntress team this year. All cheer until he adds, “And if they win, their team captain can become Queen Waifu the 19th!” Then they exchange awkward looks. Queen Waifu the 15th places a hand on the fiancée’s shoulder.
”Ha! Did you hear? They are going to allow Huntress to compete this year!” Badia shouts excitedly into the face of the man she has just lifted off the street. The man’s eyes bulge and he squirms in the muscular half-orc’s grasp.
”Y-Yeah, I heard the announcement. I was literally right next to you...” he squeaks, hanging by the front of his shirt gripped in Badia’s hand.
”I AM GOING TO BE ON THAT TEAM!” Badia roars happily, the force of her declaration blowing back some of the man’s hair. She drops him to the ground, and he scurries away to safety. The half-orc ignores him, too caught up in her own excitement.
“Look out, monsters! These boots were made for butt-kicking, and that’s just what they’ll do!”
People on the street clear a path for Badia. A desperate mime even shatters his invisible wall to make way.
Up ahead, there is a squad of eight men. They bear oversized swords and other odd weapons with names like gun-lance and switch-axe. Their shiny suits of armor are speckled with confetti. Fans carry signs to welcome the Long Knights, and one starts breakdancing to pay homage. The dance and the fiddler quartet don’t combine well, but still, it’s a nice gesture. And, to be fair, nothing Fiddle Fource plays is easy to dance to.
The knights nod in unison to show their appreciation, then they march on.
The Marshal came from the back room with a smile plastered all over his face. "What did I tell you? It's like having dirty sex with a ray of sunshine." Says Randy. They both laugh.
The Marshal pulls out the handcuffs and gestures for Randy's wrists. "Come on, seriously?" Complains Randy.
"You know, I got to deliver ya to the Registry in cuffs, until they sign for ya." Says the Marshal. "Candy..." blushes the Marshal. "bought ya a few hours without 'em. Don't make me regret it.
They exit the brothel and run into eight confetti speckled men. Randy point his handcuffed hands back at the brothel. "If you got the time and the coin, no finer companionship can be found than what waits behind that door."
"You too, Tons of fun."He says to Badia
"It's sand."
"Sand art. Which means, it has value. Look at the designs, the artistry, the--"
"Sand. Which is everywhere."
"Grrr! Not like this! Mine has color, patterns, aesthetic! So, buy it and add some flair to your drab existence!!"
As the potential customer walks away, Emi-na Amun stomps her foot and the sands in her design shift to a simmering red. "What?" she snaps at the soft hissing in her ear. "Oh, do you think you could have made the sale?" she asks the snake as it crawls up from under the table where her sand designs are displayed.
She rolls her eyes at Naja's response. "All right. Next customer who comes by, you can try." She looks up and down the street which is bustling with excited crowds looking forward to the commencement of some strange tournament. Emi-na wasn't sure what was the occasion, but with people, there were possible customers. If she could sell some of her sand art, she'd be that much closer to buying a ticket away from Southtopia.
She smooths her traditional Imhotopian dress and puts on what she hopes is an inviting, charming smile. "Sand art! Exotic art from across the sea! Come see this wonderful new art form that will amaze your friends!" she calls out as her hands weave a complex pattern that causes a pile of fine golden-colored sand to swirl and rise up into an obelisk next to her small booth.
There are several young ladies nearby who don’t work at the brothel, but words like ‘candy’ or ‘sunshine’ might be fitting descriptions. All are wearing short skirts and matching sweaters.
“Two! Four! Six! Eight! Who do we appreciate!”
The knights stop.
There is an awkward quiet, broken as one knight tromps forward.
“We were nine before Sir Wallace the Iron Wall fell. We appreciate our dead.”
The girls looks at each other, then back at the faceless knights. (All are fully armored, helm, gauntlets… nothing but steel!)
One cheerleader replies, “S-sorry, s-sir… nine’s not a good number to rhyme.”
The knight who had already spoken lurches over the girl.
“Oh. Three. Six. Nine. Sir Wallace was a friend of mine.”
The girl looks as if about to cry. Her face reddens as the visored helm lingers in her personal bubble.
Another knight speaks to the first. “Sir Willis the Iron Willed! Do you truly believe you honor Sir Wallace the Iron Wall in this manner?”
Sir Willis steps back.
Again the eight knights resume their square formation. Perhaps the fifth spot in the center was once Sir Wallace’s place.
* * *
“But he was bitten in two by the breel three years ago,” says an aging hippie.
“Oh,” a graybeard surfer dude replies. “That explains that.”
An old man who has no business being shirtless nudges another shirtless elder who has no business having abs. “Dude,” the fat one exclaims.
The toned one looks over at the beautiful young lady selling sand. He nods.
A fifth member of this apparent group tips his hat at the lady, then smiles at the toned one’s silent approval. “The Dude abides.”
No one knows who the f*$% he’s talking to, so the five men proceed in the same direction as the knights without another word.
Badia scoffs when the technicolor individual tries to sell her on brothel services. ”Bah! When Badia the Leaper desires companionship, she does not have to pay for it! My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard!” The half-orc demonstrates by shaking her prodigious posterior in his direction.
She is soon distracted, though, by the sand artist’s display. ”Ooh! Pretty!” She takes a running leap, landing in front of the stall where she peers closely at the obelisk. ”What else can you do? Show me! Show me!”
Leaping and boys. Without a discussion, the cheerleaders have already shifted their loyalty to Team Huntress.
Bella's face twists in disgust, "Huntress? Is that really the name they're going with? Do I look like a Paula or a Helena?" Shaking her head Bella hoists her raptor-klaw above her head and pulls the trigger.
Nothing.
She checks the mechanism. Finally she gives it a frustrated smack and with an explosion of gunpowder the three prongs of a grappling hook are expelled forcefully, SHWOOOP! The klaw's aim assist gears lock onto a nearby weather cock, TWAAANG! That's when the retracting springs kick in and pull Bella upwards, THWUMP.
She picks herself up looking around with a face meant to convey, I meant to get to the roofs of this side of the street.
Emi's eyes go wide when the large, green-skinned woman drops out of the air in front of her. She is speechless for a moment, but a snake next to her hisses. She blinks out of her surprise. "Oh! Yes! I offer many styles of sand-based artistic works of... art."
She twirls her hands in sweeping gestures, and the obelisk disintegrates into a pile of sand which then reforms into a statue of a woman-headed lion. The nose promptly falls off. She offers a weak smile. "Many like it better that way!" she recovers.
The snake hisses at her. She turns to it. "What? Oh, right." It hisses some more. "Okay, fine." She rolls her eyes, forces a smile, and turns back to the half-orc. "How can I make your sand-based artistic dreams come to life?"
Badia may or may not have sandy dreams. If she does, Emi-Na certainly has the magic to bring them to life… but who the f#&@ can dream anything with all that godsdamned fanfare?!
After the trumpets finally shut up, three of the queens approach and introduce themselves.
…as Queen Waifu the 4th, Queen Waifu the 12th, and Queen Waifu the 11th.
“Oh! They’re about to introduce the knights’ and wizards’ teams,” says one.
Another says, “You three ladies could band together. Three heads, three of you, one of you is her.” The Queen smiles at Badia the Leaper. Her bodyguards hope the orc took no offense.
Queen Waifu the 11th (I think) points up on top of the roof. “Hey! That’s neat! You should join these ladies here and then you’ll have more heads than the chimera and win easily!”
The Queens really seem very confident in our heroines. Apparently jumping high is a very useful monster-hunting skill.
"Don't you girls have chlamydia to circulate among your social group?" Hisses Randy at the cheerleaders.
"Come on." says the Marshal with a yank on the cuffs. As they walk past Emi-na's booth. "How about noise cancelling headphones made from sand?"
One of the queens is either about to harrumph at being ignored (ever since Queen Waifu the 5th came into her life, really) or tell the marshal that the rainbow coated person can’t hunt monsters with cuffs on.
But she’s interrupted by the guy who the fanfare was actually meant for.
“Thank you, peasants,” says Sir Robert the Strong to the trumpeteers (all of whom are working their way through med, law, and/or engineering school).
He then addresses the crowd.
“Last year, a large orangutan tore the limbs off of the mightiest barbarian in Southtopia, and beat his comrades to death with them.”
The breakdancer whispers “I thought he was a chimpanzee” to a fiddler.
A message student tells his fellow trumpeteer, “Those were massive arms, to be fair.”
The knight goes on, “We will find the primate. We will avenge the barbarians. For our weakling competitors… cannot.”
His visored helm turns to face a party of five elderly men. Three of whom have shirts. And… four have pants.
One elder brandishes a gnarled staff, another a surf board, another carries a bag with either a bowling ball or dirty laundry. Of the two empty handed men, one has either a familiar or a f*~*ing Pomeranian. “Easy, Fluffernutter,” says the rotund dog owner (or ex-husband of a dog owner).
They are quickly introduced as Jeff, Walter, Donny, The Other Jeff and Stranger. ‘Stranger’ seems the least strange of the five guys.
“Whoah! Don’t call us Five Guys!” says Jeff.
“We’ll get sued!” says The Other Jeff.
“They’re the Wizards of the Coast,” says some guy in the audience who happened to be named Jeff.
The Stranger attempts to give a speech. It’s written on a scroll so tiny he has to squint to make out the words. [smaller]“What is a hero? …sometimes, there’s a man… lost my train of thought… what is a hero anyway? Sometimes, there’s a man… well… he’s the man.”
Queen Waifu the 6th shoves her way past the bodyguards to Waifu the 4th’s side.
“Oh, how long can this guy pretend to read! Man, man, man! Hero, hero, man! A speechwriter that lazy would not repeat the same words, he would just write a shorter speech. Oh, our husband said we’d have a Huntress team this year. Liar!”
She crosses her arms.
Queen Waifus 11 through 13 all nudge Waifu the 6th. She then notices the huge bikini-clad barbarian, the sand mage, the lady (or gentleman) in the rainbow jacket and the super heroine and/or robber on the roof.
Number 13 adjusts her blouse…
…as she looks up to the rooftop to include Raptor-Woman in the conversation. “Oh, you’ll join the hunt, won’t you? You clearly have the skill…” To Badia, “The strength!” To Emi, “The magic!” And to the Misfit, “And the desire to get outta those handcuffs. Or in them, under different circumstances?”
“The point is,” says the King, “if I don’t start a ladies’ league pronto, there ain’t gonna be a Prince Joshua Junior the Fifth! It’s like when you marry more than sixteen women, they’re all unionized. It’s crazy!”
"Unionize?!?" Randy squirms uncomfortably. "You need to nip that sh!t in the bud, Sire. I have eunuchs to keep my b!tches in line. The knights seem like good candidates"
eunuchs
A guard reflexively places his shield in front of his crotch.
Badia (literally) leaps at the chance the queen offers. She bounds high into the air and comes down in a crouch, then flips her hair back and grins. ”Yes! I am the Huntress you are looking for! And I know these other fine ladies will join up too, won’t you, ladies?”
Emi-na saw the sales evaporate before her eyes. Excited at first by the half-orc's interest, she got immediately distracted by the request for sand-based earplugs. "I'm selling art, but I think I can--" she gets out before being interrupted by the fanfare announcing the king and his innumerable consorts.
Hmmm... Emi-na begins to form a new plan. She follows the crowd, thinking that maybe she could catch the eye of one of the queens -- at least one of them are bound to like her works and have the coin to pay.
She pushes up closer to see, using the leaping half-orc as a guide. She tries to make herself obvious, controlling her colored sands to weave and swirl in pleasing patterns.
Queens, cheerleaders, and non-blondes cheer as the barbarian leaps and calls her team into action!
When Emi steps up to sell her wares, Queen Waifu the 6th is too caught up in the moment. “Oh, wow! A Huntress and an artist! Oh, we have much to talk about. Like the upcoming wedding.” Her eyes narrow in the the direction of her husband and the fiancé twelve years her junior. But Waifu VI wears jealousy well (like jade-rimmed spectacles, which she is actually wearing—quite well!), and so she goes on, “Let’s talk about a beach party, magic sand, and your successful hunt! After… y’know… your successful hunt. Order of operations, dear.”
"Looks like you ladies will need a Man for protection." Says Randy.
The Marshal removes the cuffs. "Wearin' a strap-on don't make you a Man. But good luck to ya." Says the Marshal and he quickly disappears into the crowd.
Emi's head whips around as it seems like she's being lumped into the group of hunters. "Wait. No, I'm an artist! Not a Huntress! I take commissions, and I'll do a fantastic sculpture to commemorate this--" she gives a sweeping gesture towards the surrounding pomp and circumstance -- "Whatever this is."
”No, we need you, Sand Lady!” Badia declares. ”You can make an army of noseless sand cats to fight the monsters! You, and me, and Strap-On will make an unstoppable team!”
The half-orc hoists Emi into the air in celebration!
"Can you sculpt a backbone?" asks Randy.
”You, and me, and Strap-On will make an unstoppable team!”
"Name's Randy, but you can call me Daddy, sweetie"
"Welcome to the team, Daddy Sweetie!" Badia says. She crushes Randy's hand as she shakes it enthusiastically.
An involuntary eeep! issues from Emi-na as she's hoisted up by the half-orc. She quickly casts a spell and a large tendril of sand rises up to pluck her out of the large woman's hands. The column of sand solidifies under her feet, and gently lowers her down, yet keeping her at a level to look the half-orc in the eyes.
"I am on no-one's team, and--" she catches the uncouth one's words. "And I will most certainly not be calling you that. You may address me as Emi-na Amun, only."
"Emesis Man? You got it." agrees Randy.
Emi-na's eyes narrow at the mispronunciation of her name. "Did you find those noise-cancelling sand earphones? Emi-na Amun." She pronounces her name clearly.
"That's what I said." He juts his thumb at her and makes a face like she's crazy .
The wizards shake their heads.
The Stranger says, “Do they have to use so many cuss words?”
Other Jeff says, “Strap-on is not a cuss word.”
Jeff says, “Yeah, well, that’s like… your opinion, man.”
Donny says, “I think it sounds like cussing, ’cause, y’know, the lack of camaraderie and mutual respect among teamma—”
“Shut the f&#+ up, Donny,” says Walter.
“Arf,” says Fluffernutter, Walter’s ex-wife’s Pomeranian.
The Knights turn their visored heads to the Huntress party. They say nothing. They simply watch.
Queen Waifu the…
…Eighth looks at the wizards, then the knights, then back at the Huntresses.
“Oh, don’t give them the satisfaction. I know you’ll take out this year’s monster, and if you run into last year’s monster—the Grape Ape—you’ll beat him too.”
“Her,” says Waifu IV.
“The Violet Ape,” says Waifu IX.
The silocokinetic gives Randy a glare. She then gives her sand platform steps and walks down them to the ground level where she moves to her booth where she collects a *very* venomous viper that climbs up her arm and rests upon her shoulders. It hisses into her ear and she shakes her head. "I don't think so, Naja," she tells it.
The tall, slim Stranger tips his hat as he approaches Emi.
“Ma’am… I know we’re competitors and all, but Other Jeff’d like to meet ya. Uh… I promise there won’t be any… impropriety.”
The heavyset wizard in a golden robe waits expectantly by a large wall leading to an unseen westward road.
Other Jeff “—or, you may refer to me as ‘O.J.,’ if you are into the brevity thing—” forms a small sandcastle and invites Emi inside. There is a sand sofa and a sand armchair by a sand fireplace. O.J. stands by the armchair, but does not sit. He gestures to the sofa. “Please. After you, Miss…”
Emi-na pauses for a moment, studying the Stranger's face before nodding once. She goes to meet the Other Jeff.
She inspects the craftsmanship of the sandcastle briefly, then takes a seat at the invitation. "Thank you. I don't know if I am into brevity, but I am into propriety. So... 'Other Jeff,' why have you asked to see me?"
Though Other Jeff is at least your equal when it comes to building a life-size sandcastle, his is sand-colored. (He would not take offense if you started to color it!)
“Are you familiar with magic that can be used to help others? There are two spells I use with my wife. You may have noticed her—one of the cheerleaders.” He holds up an hourglass. Half the sand is up top. Half at bottom. At the rate the sand is spilling, it will take several hours to run out.
“No, I did not marry a girl younger than my daughter. She is older than me, with days numbered. Sands of Time makes her an eighteen year old for eighteen hours each day. We dine together as elders, and she sleeps. I cast the spell the next day in the hope she will wake another morning.
“What I ask if you is this: a future favor from you, which I shall pay for today. I would like you to teach an old wizard a new trick: to color sand.”
He holds up three scrolls, each wrapped in a ribbon of a different color: teal, fuchsia and copper.
Surely this is the payment—but he asks you a funny question about Naja. “Is that a boy-snake or a girl?”
Meanwhile, the king announces the TAMHuC has begun!
Despite TAMHuC being a really weird acronym, the crowd goes wild!
“I have heard word of a threat to our kingdom! It’s name is FLOTSAM! I have consulted former hunting monk Brother Seamus—he knows of a chimera by that name!”
The wizards comment.
Jeff says, “Brother Seamus? Isn’t he a dick?”
Donny replies, “Nah, you’re thinking of our mutual ex-teammate, Jacques LeTréhouxrn.”
Walter scolds Donny. “Shut the fu—not that kinda—a private dick, Donny! He investigates cases. A P. f$!&ing I.”
“Sheesh,” says Donny.
Emi-na watches the grains of sand fall through the glass, thinking about the implications of such a spell. She snaps out of her reverie when he asks about Naja. "Oh. Naja is a female, though it hardly matters. She isn't looking for a mate at this time."
She looks around at the sandcastle. "As for teaching you to color sand? I can try. You have to find the color within the sand. It has been around as long as the world, and has seen every color in existence. You just have to... coax it out of the grains." She runs her hand along the wall behind her, causing it to turn the ruddy hue of a desert sunset.
The king permits you all to take out the primate who killed several barbarian hunters last year. Yes, you will be handsomely compensated for that.
Fanfare makes it official! It is time to exit the gates!
The knights move out, as do four wizards and a pair of huntresses!
The Stranger assures Badia and Randy, “Mah teammate and yours are taggin’ along… taken with a grain of salt.”
”Uh, salt? And, uh... pepper?” Badia scratches her head.
The Stranger laughs, “Pepper might be a magical what-have-ye to some, but for me, that’s outta mah element. I use sea salt as a catalyst.”
He holds a single crystal of salt, barely visible between his thumb and index finger. “Your lady-friend is in here, in a manner o’ speaking, along with the sand manipulator on mah team. They ain’t literally crammed into this li’l space. More like a pocket dimension. They need only touch a wall from within, and they’ll pop up a few feet away from me or wherever they feel they can safely land.” Very respectfully glancing at Badia’s muscles, he adds (in his usual relaxed drawl), “I assure ye, mah spell’s safe for your friend, ma’am. We may be competitors, but it’s all about keeping the city safe.
“And hell, the Long Knights beat us every year, so if we ain’t gonna win, I’d rather it be you than them.”
“The spells are all called Sand Snake. Each is triggered by colored sand and a snake. It will not harm her, but… should you choose to cast more than one of these spells, do not do so in rapid succession.”
Looking out the castle window, you can’t help but notice that you are in a cube-shaped dimension. But somehow you know you are safe here, and can leave anytime.
Emi-na takes the scrolls with a grateful nod as Naja slowly twists along her shoulder to get her own view.
"I see. Well, thank you. Though in truth I am merely looking for passage to Utopia. I won't keep you any longer, because you would be going with your team on the... hunt, correct?"
“However, if your team is the victor, you will have several options.” In which case, O.J. understands, you might not end up compensating him for the scrolls. He hands them to you anyway. “If for any reason you decide not to work with me, perhaps your words alone are worth the scrolls. Besides, you can use them. I cannot.”
Suddenly, Other Jeff and Emi-Na appear by the Stranger. “Good talk?” he asks.
Walter interrupts O.J.’s silent nod, if such a thing is possible. “This isn’t bowling, this is a hunt. There aren’t rules. Best we split up and…”
Donny interrupts him. “Best of luck, ladies. And gent?”
Walter stifles the urge to shut Donny up, and the path into the lush green s+@&hole splits into a Y shape.
”Yes! Hear that, friends? Destiny calls!” Badia says. She looks back and forth before leading the way to the west.
”Hello Destiny! I was seeing your friend Duty! He says very bad things about you!”
"My team? What do you mean?" She gets out before the sand castle dissolves around them.
Emi-na blinks as she realizes she is in unfamiliar surroundings. "Where--?" She recognizes the half-orc and the uncouth person.
"What's happening?"