* * *
The air was cold and the only light came from the smoky torch, a handheld bull’s eye lantern and a glowing gem that hung from the tall blond woman’s neck. Within minutes the five men and women began to fidget. The tall red haired woman, wearing a fur leather strip across her very full bust and a tiny bikini brief that barely covered her loins, reached up and scratched the inside of her ear. Then looked intently at what she had found on the end of her finger and quickly flicked it away into the dark.
The shorter man, wearing leather breeches and knee high soft boots scratched his stomach under the woolen tunic, and then itched the tip of his pointed ears that poked through the long blond hair. He plucked the string of his bow absently mindedly.
The second woman, wearing a diaphanous white dress and a small tiara on her beautiful blond cascading hair, looked furtively around the darkened corridor and then reached up as subtly as she could, and fingered the bottom of the shapely well-endowed bust. Then she pulled the neckline out and looked inside the top. She literally started to drool, when suddenly she looked up as the tall, armored knight grabbed her arm and jerked her rudely forward.
“Lucia the Pure, stop that. You’re a Blue Mage of the Ninth Ring.”
“What a stupid name, ‘Lucia the Pure’,” the pointy eared man mocked.
The knight looked at him as he held the woman. “Tread carefully, she is a Duchess.”
“Ohhh, that’s right.” He waved his arms in the air. “I’m so scared.”
Lucia pulled back against the stronger man. “I can’t stop the voices.” Her free hand grasped her head, knocking the tiara astray. “I can’t think clearly. I hear his voice telling me to do awful things.”
The tall barbarian woman looked at her incredulously. “What the bloody hell are you talking about? Look what the dumb shit upstairs has dressed me in. What kind of armor is this?” She tugged at the leather strips. “This crap can’t even protect me from the cold much less a long sword.”
Lucia straightened. “Yes, the Player, I forget sometimes what is happening.” She rubbed her face and her head dropped. Lucia looked up indignantly, holding her white skirt in her hand. “Oh no, look what he has dressed me in, my best dress, and no petticoats.”
The barbarian girl looked at the dress. “At least you have a little decency, you can’t see through it unless you have light behind you.” She looked to the rest of the party. “Alright guys give up the extra clothing. It’s friggin cold down here, and I for one have had enough.”
“Wisperwind is right, but first we need to get out of this corridor. If we stay here more wandering monsters from table 4 in the Monster Manual will come through,” the armored man spoke decisively.
“What are you talking about? What is the ‘Manual’?”
“Ummm…I don’t know for sure what it is. Like Lucia, I hear things and have memories, but I do know it is not safe here.”
“Sir Alward is right, we need to get somewhere safe,” a small voice from the shadows piped up.
The other four looked at the last figure. The build was slight; a wide brimmed hat and a dark cloak covered any facial features. The short sword at the hip looked well used.
“That’s right; our little shadowy figure that hangs around and always seems to have the right helpful answers,” the blond pointy eared man spoke up.
Wisperwind leaned forward. “What is your name?”
“No’ne Plyour Char-a-cter.”
“What the hell are you talking about? What skills do you have for our party?” Wisperwind’s voice dropped threateningly.
A faint woman’s voice said, “I am from the Guild of Henchman. I have whatever skills you do not possess, to do this level.”
There was a reverent ‘awww’ from the other party members. Everyone had heard of the Henchman. They were a guild steeped in ancient magic. They could appear as any race, sex. There were even rumors that dryads and orcs had been seen. Lucia looked at her sharply; the voice seemed to change each time the figure spoke. One minute sounding like a man and then another, a woman.
“Take your hat off; we need to see your face.”
No’ne stepped back with a gasp and clenched the cloak tighter. “I can’t. I have no idea what I am supposed to look like this time.”
“Let’s get out of this corridor then. I would like to get out of this armor. We can sort out things then,” Alward spoke up.
Wisperwind looked up eagerly. “Don’t you want to wear the armor?”
Alward shook his head. “Nope, I hate the stuff. It is heavy, it stinks after a while and it messes up my hair. Besides it cramps my creativity.”
“Creativity? You have to be kidding?” the blond man quipped.
Wisperwind had been going through the back packs and was now clothed in a woolen shirt and leather breeches.
She glared at the pointy eared man. “What are you supposed to do anyway? All you do is stand there and play with that stupid bow, talk in that faggoty voice and pick on everyone. What is with the ears anyway? I have not even heard your name.”
The man went quiet and blushed furiously. “Leggalos, I’m an elf.”
Alward snorted. “That name is stupid and totally unoriginal. Can’t you think of anything better?”
The elf looked close to tears and pointed upward. “It’s not my fault I have a stupid unoriginal Player.”
Lucia stamped her sandaled foot. “Forget him, what about my nice dress? I am not going any further with my good dress on.”
Alward sighed and dug into his bag and pulled out a pair of bright red leggings and a yellow and blue half and half tunic of silk. He carefully laid a beautiful lyre onto the floor. The others looked on incredulously.
“What?” he asked defensively. “So I like to dress up and play. I’m actually very good. I’m booked in most inns as the Traveling Troubadour.”
Lucia’s face lit up. “I love him, err… your singing. Maybe we can get together when this is over?”
As quickly as Alward took off his armor, Wisperwind was strapping herself in. In minutes she moved up and down the room experimentally, and Alward sat on the table strumming his lyre contentedly.
“Ahhh guys, sorry about all the jokes and stupid shit I’ve said. My Player has no idea how to play chaotic neutral. He thinks it is a license to become an obnoxious shit, I’ll stop.”
“That would be wonderful, and as soon as we get No’ne sorted out, we should decide what to do. I am getting sick of sitting around for weeks at a time. I have friends that I haven’t seen in years, and I don’t want to end up like that,” Lucia murmured softly.
Wisperwind looked at No’ne. “You have the right to live your own life.”
A little girl’s voice squeaked back, “What would the Dungeon Master say?”
Leggalos asked, “If we’re all going to make these amazing changes, can I get another name, maybe another weapon. I hate this bow; I never seem to hit anything with it.”
Alward said, “Sounds fair to me, what about the rest of you?”
No one objected and the elf stepped up. “I want to be called…Bob,” he said in a hushed whisper.
The rest of the group looked on a bit startled, and the elf looked back at them expectantly.
Alward smiled and flicked a string. “Bob the elven what?”
The blond haired man smiled. “I have some cool powder I have been experimenting with, it blows things up real good.”
Alward grinned and flicked once more. “Bob the elven powder blower up-er. Now, No’ne, what about you?”
She whipped off the hat and her cloak fell to the ground as did the shapeless tunic and breeches. “I always wanted to be a fairy, a winged one, an Empress of my own people.”
Suddenly a tiny winged woman, one of dazzling beauty dressed in the most daring beguiling gown hovered there. She ran her hands lovingly down her hips, the pixie face transformed with wonder.
“I shall be called . . .” she thought a minute.
The elf hur
riedly said, “Not Bob – that would be too silly.”
“No, not Bob. I want to be known as … Imogene. That was the name of a character my Player read about once and I have always loved it.”
Lucia said, “Now that is the kind of dress I want when we get out of here.”
Bob looked at the others and said, “Well, now what do we do?”
Wisperwind grinned. “I’ll tell you what we should do, we should kick the Lich King’s ass now, and then we can split the treasure the way we want. I think it’s time the Players get left out. We do the work and they get all the credit and all the cool good stuff.”
Alward strummed again. “It will make one hell of a song.”
They all nodded and after a few minutes they began to gather up their gear and with Wisperwind leading in her brand new armor, they headed out the door.