(Last chapter of this story for a while, going on hiatus as of today. I just wanna say thanks to everyone who enjoys reading my nonsense! I have a Patreon, so feel free to support me if you can! Thanks to my first Patron, Gothicshark, who’s awesome! On to the chapter!)

I grin, waving back at the nyan-binary Argonaut, jogging over. “H-hey, Trinity, you’re kinda on my stream now, I guess. It’s Asteria’s fault, she got me into it and people like my streams, for some reason. Anyway, how’ve you been?!”

Trinity smirks, pulling that stereotypical :3 face, and thumps Ulged on the shoulder as he nods, his tail wagging non-stop. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Gnoll NOT smiling and wagging his thick, bushy tail. “Not much. This big guy’s been helping us come up with some wild new ideas! And that mad-scientist dude is a real genius! His theories and suggestions are seriously out-of-the-box, but damn it if they aren’t entertaining!” I blink. “Mad-scientist dude? Wait, does he have a French accent and look like he electrocuted himself?!”

Trinity nods. “Uh-huh, Dr Frank! He’s helping us design and produce a new weapon! It’s not ready for testing yet, but the results look extremely promising so far!” They gesture at the forges and stalls. “This whole set-up was his idea, too! If this is gonna be a raid-boss dungeon, then why not establish an outpost here, to resupply Argos and buy their loot off them?!”

I smile at Trinity’s cheerfulness. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. And, if the Dr is here, I guess there’s a bunch from that-oof!” a ball of squealing energy thumps into my midriff, and I feel arms around my waist. Looking down, I see the Ashiga Executioner, Clawdette, hugging me.

“Hey, Clawdette, I guess you’re here because you want a crack at whatever the boss of this place is, huh?” I pat her back gently, spotting Gimmel and several of his dwarven friends in discussion with Harvenhaight and Asteria, her streaming orb flickering as she records the day’s footage. He grins and raises a jovial fist in my direction, before returning to his conversation.

As Clawdette releases me, I ask, “Trinity, would you be able to hook me up with some better armour? This set you sold me the first time is nice and all, but I’ve outlevelled it by a lot…” the feline enby system cackles, and nods. “Yeah, we can definitely sort you out, what are you looking for? Something heavier, or about the same?”

I smile, and spread my wings. “I’d like a full set of plate, if you can make it lighter than average?” furling them again, I unsheathe my sword from across my back. “With a way to keep this from getting in the way while I’m flying, please.”

Trinity nods, then quickly takes a few measurements, making notes, before grinning up at me. “We think we can adapt something we already have in stock, it shouldn’t take more than a couple hours, what with Ulgy here lending a helping paw!” thanking them, I head towards Astie and Harvenhaight, narrowing my eyes as I spot a grumpy-looking Randy, slouched against the wall with that pink-haired noise-machine, Marika, slumped beside him.

Ignoring them, I join the group, and Gimmel grabs my hand, giving it a firm shake. “I watched that scrap ya got into with that bastard, good on you for kicking ‘is arse!” I blush and shake my head, spluttering, “O-oh, I wasn’t trying to show off, I just… didn’t want him to beat me…”

He shrugs, and I spot an odd-looking metal backpack that he wasn’t wearing last time. In fact, every one of his fellow dwarves is also wearing one. Ah well, it must have some purpose, but I have more important things to do right now. “So, has anyone found out where the boss is? Or the mobile suit of armour?”

Gimmel nods, and Harvenhaight adds, “We have a few scouts tailing the armour, and Randy actually tried to solo the boss. It… went about as well as you’d expect, but we did learn a few things. The boss, Ancient Lich-King Jemistra, is no joke. You don’t wanna heck around with that shredded jackaroo, no mistake.”

He gestures to a slate board leaning against the wall, covered in chalk-marks. It has a rough list of Ancient Lich-King Jemistra’s abilities. Summoning minions, life-draining, defence-penetration… not an easy combo to deal with, especially as long as you’re in a small group. Dr Francois approaches, and bows politely. “Bonjour, mademoiselle Kettrin, I ‘ope your birthday was excellent!” he smiles warmly, and I nod.

“It was great, thank you, Dr Frank. Anyway, I’m here to help out if we’re going to take a whack at this guy today!” I haven’t looked at Asteria yet, still hearing her voice in the back of my head. “Happy birthday, Kettrin. I love you…”

I sigh, then hear a familiar, grating voice butting in. “What’s the point of YOU fags planning anything?! Randy almost beat that zombie all by himself yesterday, and none of you have even triiiied to fight it!” Marika’s harsh, shrill tone fills our ears, and I grit my teeth.

Gimmel groans, “No, he didn’t, Marika. He got spanked by Jemistra almost as badly as he did by Kettrin! And even if he did ‘almost’ do it, all it would’ve done is enter stage two! Bosses never have only one stage!”

The pink harpy splutters invective at the stout dwarf, before I lose my temper with her. I’m not normally so quick to snap, but she’s just… sooo… IRRITATING.

“Shut up, you trash-eating bin-chicken! Or you’ll get another headache like I gave you last time! In fact, you’ll get worse, because I’m going to pound you into a shape resembling a small cube made entirely of pain! NOW, if you don’t want to make yourself useful for once in your life, you can get out of our way. As soon as I get geared up, I’m going to go and take a crack at the Lich-King myself. Anyone who wants to come with me is welcome. ”

Gimmel and a dozen of his dwarves let out a roar, grinning and shaking axes and mauls. Harvenhaight crosses his arms and nods approvingly, as Clawdette bounces up and down eagerly, brandishing her daggers. And, finally, I let my gaze stray to Asteria’s face. She’s smiling, and her eyes shine as I blush slightly. As Marika gears up to start again, I cross over to Asteria, standing in front of her.  I black out my stream for a moment, muting it for good measure. Asteria’s eyes widen, and I bite my lip.

A few moments later, I spot her own streaming orb wink out. Swallowing, I grab the taller Alv girl by the shoulders, and pull her in for a kiss. Time seems to stand still, and I feel her arms wrap around my back, pulling me close, my body moulding to hers as I move my hands to cup her face, her lips and mine pressed together. Suddenly, sound rushes in to break the silence, as Marika goes into a conniption fit, Harvenhaight bursts out laughing, and a chorus of approving whoops rise from several of Gimmel’s men. I look up at Asteria and murmur, just for her to hear, “I love you too, Astie…”

I break the kiss, stepping back a little, and Asteria grins, a delicate pink flush rising on her skin. She’s silent, but someone isn’t.

“THAT’S DISGUSTING! YOU’RE GOING TO HELL FOR THAT!” Marika’s voice goes up by about thirty octaves. She’s loud enough that several nearby people wince, and Trinity flips her the bird, scowling. I ignore her, still looking into Asteria’s face, biting my lip. What if she wasn’t happy with that? What if I’m a bad kisser or something? Maybe-

A long-nailed hand grabs me by the wing and pulls me back, yanking me round to face them. Marika is panting, her eyes wide and bloodshot.  “You’re sick! You’re a blasphemous demon, a foul temptress who stalks the world, seducing women into forsaking the word of God and the Church of One! You’re a sinful bitch! Repent, and accept judgment! ONE MAN, ONE WOMAN, ONE WAY TO LIVE!”

Instead of shrinking back like I normally would when faced with confrontation,  I draw myself up to my full, not-very-intimidating height, and step forward, flexing my wing and tugging it free from Marika’s grip. “Listen here, you obnoxious neon-pink bitch. I’m only going to say this ONCE. If you touch me, or harass me, or go after Asteria, I will MAKE you regret it. You’re a damn cultist, you’re a skidmark on the underpants of society, and you will LOSE if you push your luck with me. I have had enough of you. Now, piss off back to hiding behind others, that’s about all you’re good at.”

The somewhat –taller pink girl backs up a little, noting the icy glares being fixed on her from all directions. However, she doesn’t back down, instead squaring up to me and drawing a wand from inside her sleeved robe.

“No. I’m going to show everyone that you’re wrong and need to be punished! I will administer justice on you-” A massive shadow falls over her, and a huge, hook-clawed paw comes to rest on her shoulder. A deep, growling rumble fills the air, a thick Scottish accent distinctly tangible. “Hold yer horses a wee while lassie. Ah’m fixin’ tae gi’ ye a piece o’ me mind twa’. If ye’re throowin’ doon the gauntlet, AH’LL take it oop. Ye’d best no’ hold beck, aye?”

The giant, hairy Gnoll grins down at Marika, his ever-present grin on his face. However, there’s something odd. For the first time, I can’t see Ulged’s tail wagging. I step back. “I’ll let Ulged handle this. If you somehow beat him, or want to throw down another challenge after he’s finished chewing on your corpse, I’ll accept it.”

Marika’s eyes dart, first to me, then the huge hyenid Argonaut. It’s a little pathetic, watching her trying to climb out of the hole she’d just dug for herself. A space clears, and the duelling barrier snaps into place, thanks to a trio of mages. Ulged and Marika stand in the centre of the small clearing, Marika’s hands gripping her wand, knuckles white. Ulged, however, just… stands there, arms folded across his chest. “Ye can ha’ the first shot. Better mek it a gud one, lassie.”

In a flash, Marika takes the opportunity, whipping her wand out in a swift pattern, a glyph coalescing into place. With a shriek of frustration, she brings the rod down in a scything arc. “Flame Cascade!” a raging torrent of almost liquid ash and heat rush towards Ulged, swallowing him in an instant. She cackles maniacally, hands on her hips, as the tidal wave of flame dies down. In the midst of the fading inferno, Ulged stands there, unscathed. Brushing a few errant sparks from his pauldron, he yawns theatrically.

“Well? Tak’ your shot, lassie. Or are ye gonna leave me waitin’?”

Marika drops her wand, staring in horror, as the gnoll gestures at himself. “Ah’m a blacksmith, ye ken? Ah’ve go’ fire resistance, heat resistance, and, this’s the best part. See this here?” On his pauldron, a glowing white rune can be seen, in the shape of a greatshield. It fades away a few seconds later.

“That’s me favourite ability. Ah’m a Runic Sentinel, no’ jest some berk wi’ an axe, see? The Shield Rune negates ALL damage from a single attack, so… ye jes’ wasted a nasty liddle spell, didn’t ye?”

Before Marika can reach down, the Gnoll snaps his clawed fingers and a rune that looks like a stylised mountain peak forms in front of him, shining an earthy orange. The pink-haired mage seizes up, her body paralysed by the strange rune’s effect. Another snap, and a hieroglyph resembling coiled chains forms in red light. Immediately, scorching manacles crash up out of the earth, clanging into place around Marika’s arms and legs. The smell of burning flesh fills the air, as muffled screams of pain pour from the mage’s throat. Ulged… waits, staring impassively, as the blazing fetters burn through Marika’s dwindling HP bar.

Finally, the fiery shackles release the burnt spellcaster, the chains rattling as they retreat back into the centre of the earth. Ulged takes a step forward, uncrossing his arms, as a dark purple rune flashes over his bare, furry chest. As he steps closer, stalking his prey, the gnoll grows, larger and broader, until he’s twelve feet tall and almost seven abreast. Leaning down to put himself on Marika’s level, he whispers something, before…

SNAP.

The sound of the giant hyena man’s jaws closing like a steel trap echoes around the cavernous, abandoned hall that’s become our base camp. With a muted tearing sound, Ulged steps back and straightens, as Marika’s lifeless body drops, her throat and lower jaw torn clean off by the huge fangs. Ulged wrinkles his muzzle, then spits. A bloody gobbet of flesh and teeth splats onto the ground next to the dead Argonaut.

“Yeesh, Ah cannae stand the taste o’ hypocrisy.”