Moments later Makaleki found himself on the top floor of the Itinerant’s tower. It was a large, round room made of stone. He recognized it and tried to gather his senses, but being summoned against his will always left him disoriented and it took a few seconds to get his bearings. That wouldn’t be so bad but another side effect of the summoning was that he was certain he was on fire, and so he began running as fast as he could. The room was just big enough that he could get up to a full trot before slamming into the stone wall. Fortunately, the Itinerant was used to this happening and had placed a permanent bubble spell around the interior of the room. Makaleki hit the wall and bounced off like a rag doll, only bruising his face somewhat slightly. When he reoriented, he realized with some embarrassment that he was not alone.
Over by a large bookshelf he saw the backside of a beautiful woman bent over some large tomes. She had on that ridiculous leather armor that women fighters often wore. In his mind, it had to be absolutely useless, he thought. The leather strappings barely covered her tanned, and quite toned, he noted, skin. It was probably insufficient to keep her warm, much less protect her from any damage she might receive in battle. What skin the leather armor didn’t cover however, was covered in tattoos. And piercings. Makaleki thought this a good thing. He had been aggravated that the Itinerant had summoned him against his will once again even though he was now a bona fide master technician. The dang missions she drafted him on could sometimes take days or even weeks. He’d never get back to Sheila from Accounting in time. But seeing the nice rear end bent over the books changed his opinion. At least this time he would be in the company of a scantily dressed female who obviously had daddy issues. He was still going to have a word with the Itinerant, but his mood was rising. As he was admiring the sinewy muscles on the lady’s backside, she turned and addressed him.
“She’s got all the ward spells here, Mak,” she said. “All of them.”
Makaleki’s mood instantly dropped. It was Kindra the Medic. He had been on many missions with her and she had let him know the very first day that if he ever touched her again, she would hurt him in a way that only she could. She didn’t have daddy issues either. Sure, she was covered in tats and piercings, but she was a healer. The tats would erase themselves and the holes would close right back up in a few days.
“Hi Kindra,” he said as he stood. “Yes, I’ve seen them before, but I can’t read them. They’re protected somehow.”
“I thought you were 3rd level now. A master technician?” Kindra asked.
His eyes brightened as he remembered. “I am!”
He hurried over to her and snatched the spell book from her hands, not even bothering to bookmark the spell she was looking at. He flipped right back to the index and scanned down….
“Aha! Master Tech spells I can read!” he exclaimed. Standing beside Kindra, he felt the bruises on his face start healing. That was her gift as a medic, she automatically healed anyone close to her. He felt warm and happy to be beside her.
As he read spell after spell from the tome he heard the sound of a lute from across the room. He glanced around and located the source of the music. Rictavious the Bard was sitting on a pile of old crates, strumming his lute which was broken in half, no doubt from running into the stone wall. The neck had been snapped off at the base, but he held the broken neck out taut and played a few chords.
“The fat wizard, excited, reads some books.
The fat wizard, oblivious, ignores her looks.
The fat wizard, a loser, something, something, rhymes with looks.”
Makaleki sucked in his beer belly. “I just absorbed a spell that transforms a man into an ass and vice versa. If I use it on you maybe it’ll transform you back into a man. Or whatever you were before,” he said.
The bard continued.
“The fat wizard, threatening, like a crook.
The fat wizard, exacerbated, masturbated, with the books.
“The fat wizard…”
“You are the worst example of a bard I’ve ever seen,” Makaleki interrupted. “I could make up a song better than yours and I’m tone deaf.”
“I’d like to see you…” Rictavious started.
“Rictavious, the untalented, had no hooks.” Makaleki sang sarcastically.
“Rictavious, the uneducated, could read no books…”
He paused a minute thinking, then continued again.
“Rictavious, obviously fatter than the wizard, could get no nook.”
“See, a child could do your job, you sleazy hack,” Makaleki said.
Rictavious got off his crate and marched over to Makaleki. “I can’t get no nook?” he aked incredulously. “I’ll have you know that I have wooed women from all six corners of the earth and there’s nary a nag that can resist me.” And with that he slapped Kindra on the ass.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said to Kindra.
Makaleki smiled. Rictavious had obviously never met Kindra.
Kindra drew back her arm to punch Rictavious but he quickly held up his broken lute and strummed the strings seductively with his tongue.
Kindra smiled and moved closer to him, as if under a spell.
Rictavious tongued the strings enthusiastically.
Kindra stood before him, almost swooning and ran her fingers through his hair. Rictavious winked at Makaleki and as he did, Kindra grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back. She slammed her free fist into his exposed neck and let go. Rictavious stumbled back, gasping and grabbing his throat. His broken lute clattered across the floor. He hunched over as if to puke.
Kindra moved to him and as he stood upright gaining his breath, she kicked her leg high, deliberately missing his face so closely he could feel the air whoosh by. When her leg was straight up in the air she gently held it there with her hand. The leather kilt she wore slowly slid down her leg and Rictavious couldn’t help but follow it with his eyes. He stared as it bunched up around her waist, revealing her crotch.
With a smile, she let go, swinging the leg down fast and hard upon Rictavious’s grinning face. He fell to the floor, but rose quickly in an effort to assert his manhood. The effort was short lived though as she brought the leg up again with the strength and grace of a ballerina, slamming it into his nutsack.
Since Rictavious was near Kindra, she automatically healed him and good old Ric had the unique feeling of his throat, face and groin being smashed in and healed at the same time. It was a violent but warm feeling and it turned him on. It was all he could do to not smile. In fact, it was almost impossible but he managed to as best he could as Kindra drew back to punch him once more.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Please don’t…”
His apology was cut short by a loud, metallic crash. They all turned to see a fully armored knight sprawled upon the stone floor. The knight, obviously disoriented stood up and promptly ran full steam into the stone wall. He bounced back and tumbled end over end, his helmet coming off in the process. He picked himself up slowly and as he regained his composure he saw the group staring at him.
“Makaleki!” the knight shouted excitedly.
“Knight Pitt,” Makaleki said distastefully.
The knight rushed over and enthusiastically hugged Makaleki. Since Makaleki had no armor on, this was neither a comfortable nor a wanted embrace.
He pushed Knight Pitt off. Pitt noticed Kindra and immediately blushed.
“Ma’am,” he said, nodding politely.
“Hello Pitt,” Kindra said.
Pitt blushed again and retrieved his helmet. As he was walking back to them he noticed Rictavious.
“You’re new,” Pitt said.
“Rictavious the Rock God, at your service,” he said, bowing. Makaleki rolled his eyes.
“Glad to meet you,” Pitt said, “but I don’t think that broken instrument is gonna do you much good where we’re going.”
“What do you mean?” Kindra asked.
“Well, if we’re all here, I guess that means someone killed a dragon.” Pitt said.
Kindra noticeably gasped. Rictavious was confused. Makaleki clucked his tongue as he realized with a shock that the stupid oaf was probably right. They had been summoned for a big one. He would not get back to his hot tub anytime soon.
“Goddammit,” Makaleki sighed.