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  “You’re trying to do too much, Jack. You’re running this place and training with me at the same time. Let me take over some of the chores.” Benny suggested.

  “No, no, no. You and Virtue already do enough. That little ‘dream reading’ thing she does brings in quite a bit of extra coin, and you bring shipments from Down Mountain.”

  “That’s only once a month, though. Let me take care of some things. I’ll hire a carpenter to replace the bridge, get some artists to touch up the frescoes here in the dining hall, and anything else that needs doing. You can just relax and greet guests at night and stuff like that.”

  “Well, I guess I wouldn’t mind having some extra time on my hands. I could spend some more time with that older widow who just moved in,” Jack’s eye lit up at that last statement, “Yeah…sure, Benny. Take the reins for a while. We’ll see how it goes.” Jack smiled and walked back to the kitchen to prepare things for that night.

  A few years prior, Jack broke down and finally hired Nap, the annoying Halfling, to work at the Fox Den. At times it seemed more trouble than it was worth, but once Benny took over more and more of the tasks of running the establishment, he was grateful for what little Nap did. During the days Benny prepared meals for the evening’s guests, oversaw the bridge replacement and fresco touch-ups, and sent Nap once a month to get food, barrels of beer and mead, and other necessities. At night he was able to relax a little, letting Virtue give her psychic readings and dream interpretation. It brought in quite a bit of coin, as most of the farmers, peasants, and even the dwarfs who worked in the local mines would come, hoping to hear of good fortune in their futures and to better understand their dreams. Jack regained some of his liveliness, frequently visiting a widowed woman who had moved into Benny’s old hovel in town (with Jack asking for an occasional bite from Virtue to aid him in his romantic affairs). Benny quickly realized why Jack had been lagging in their fighting, as the duties of running an inn and tavern were no easy job. Several weeks passed by, and nothing eventful happened. Benny began secretly hoping some excitement would come along and swoop him up in a grand adventure. He should’ve been careful about what he wished for, because that’s exactly what happened.

  Chapter 3

  It was a typical, lively night, and Benny and Virtue had just finished a song and dance number. They never liked to let one dance simmer for too long, and so decided to entertain the crowds by doing a little role reversal, Benny wearing a crudely made dress and mop-wig, while Virtue dressed as knight, saving Benny, who was the designated damsel in distress. The patrons got a hoot out of it, including a couple of surly dwarves from the mines, who kept cat calling Benny and throwing coins to him. It was after they’d finished, Virtue cradling Benny in her arms when he heard a loud voice directed at him.

  “Wow, Ben. I don’t think you’ll have much luck passing off as a gal if you plan on dressing like that full-time. You ain’t as pretty as you used to be!” the man said. The accent sounded familiar, but Benny couldn’t place it.

  He looked up at the figure who’d just come out of the pouring rain. He was a tall, handsome man with a big nose and neatly groomed blond hair. He wore a brown travelers' cloak over chain mail, and a hefty sword slung across his back. He had a kind smile, but Benny sensed a playfulness that could get carried away. Who’s this joker? I know I’ve seen that face before, Benny thought.

  “Oh, come on Benny. Don’t act like you don’t know me,” the man turned to a companion who was walking in behind him, “Benny, here, is acting like he don’t know me from turd pie.”

  Benny almost fainted when he saw the man’s companion, but held himself together. It was an orc with blueish-green skin and wiry hair. He had fangs jutting out of both top and bottom lip, and he had ornamental barbs that looked like porcupine needles embedded into his head. He had very ugly features, and walked with the awkward bow-legged swagger Benny had seen in orcs passing. Benny knew not to judge a book by its cover, since he himself wasn’t the prettiest thing to look at, so he politely smiled at both and went to greet them.

  “I’m sorry, gents, but I don’t think I’ve seen you two around here before,” Benny replied, grasping both the man and the orc's hand, crossed over each other, at once.

  “Oh, now you’re being silly, Ben.” The man winked and led his companion to the table underneath the rainbow gnome fresco.

  “It’s probably the nose job,” the orc said in a squeaky voice, pointing at the man’s face.

  “Oh, I’d forgotten. Now look who's acting foolish.” Benny noted a sudden change from the country-boy accent the man had when he entered to a very familiar, well-spoken tone.

  The man reached up to his hairline and began to pull the skin right off his face. Benny gasped until he realized that it wasn’t actually skin, but some type of prosthetic face covering, so well blended in with the rest of the man’s face he didn’t even notice. As the man peeled the mask off his forehead, the nose went along with it, revealing a hideous scar and two gaping nostril holes. The man then pulled off the apparently fake goatee that had surrounded his lips, showing off the huge hole in his upper lip. Benny let out a loud chuckle when he realized it was Dale Beranger.

  “Dale!” Benny pulled him out of his chair and grasped him in a bear hug that shocked the man.

  “Careful, boy. You’re a lot stronger than you used to be.” They both laughed.

  “Hey, fella,” Virtue said, walking over and kissing him on the cheek. He gave a respectful bow and kissed her hand.

  “How do you fare, my lady?” Virtue blushed and looked at Benny, who couldn’t offer much help because of how much he was laughing.

  “Oh, knock it off, Dale. You’re no gentleman,” she said.

  “I am now, thanks to you.” Dale turned and pointed at his companion, “I wish I could say the same for this sot.”

  The orc smiled, revealing the full length of his tusks. Then the orc started laughing too, a high pitched wine that almost hurt Benny’s ears.

  “Are you going to introduce us, Dale?” Virtue asked.

  “Oh, yes. Forgive me. This is Uubum Ma Gug.” Dale sat and patted the orc on the shoulder.

  “You can call me Bum, for short,” the orc said.

  “How did you two meet?” Benny asked.

  Dale and Bum looked at each other with somber, respected looks. Then Bum spoke. “I’m the orc who killed Dale’s brother.”

  “Sit down and we’ll explain,” Dale said.

  The story Dale and Bum told Virtue and Benny was a true testament to the power of love and forgiveness over hatred and revenge. Dale’s brother, whose name was Zorn, had gone hunting for some wild deer one day, and unbeknownst to him, Bum had been hunting in the same area. Bum had seen Zorn moving through some bushes and mistook him for wild game, shooting him with his crossbow. When he found Zorn dying, Bum took him to Alsbury for immediate care, but being pierced through a lung, Zorn soon died. Bum was ashamed, and exiled himself from his tribe before Dale killed the orphans and led the revolt against Bum’s tribe. When he found out what had happened, he fell into despair and became a mercenary, very similar to Dale. Then, about three years ago, Dale and Nadia came across Bum in a bazaar in Narbonia, a town in the country of Juvia, east of Dan and located on the coast. Dale apologized to Bum, explained how he’d been tricked and manipulated by Cycleze and how Virtue and Benny had helped free him from his evilness. Bum was so moved that he renounced his mercenary ways, and on that same day helped Dale defeat an invasion of pirates from the countries across the Great Ocean. They vowed to be eternally indebted to each other, and considered themselves brothers.

  “And here we are,” Bum said. He ladled chicken soup into his mouth, which had been brought by a timid Nap.

  “So now we’re taking some time off to come back here and help Jack for a while.” Dale said, “Bum and I have been doing a lot of work in Juvia helping the merchant guilds, investigating and dismantling a gang of thieves and whatnot. Stuff like that.”

  “
That’s very commendable, Beranger.” Nap said. Dale frowned and looked at the Halfling, who whimpered at the man’s glare.

  “Call me Dale. Just Dale. Beranger is dead.”

  Benny was very moved by the way Dale had completely changed his ways. When he’d last seen Dale, the man was confused by his newfound conscience. Before his conversion bite, Beranger was a proud, bigoted sociopath who killed for revenge, personal gain, and for fun. He was a domineering bully who treated people like dirt. This man was completely different. While Dale still had a touch of sarcasm about him, Benny could sense an inner kindness that had been absent before. Benny looked down at the fake face prosthetic, which Dale had rolled up and laid beside his mug of cider.

  “Nice, isn’t it?” Dale asked, “A wizard made it for me. He enchanted it so that when I put it on, it blends in with my face completely. It even feels real. I love it, but Nadia doesn’t seem to like it much.”

  “Speaking of Nadia, where is she?” Virtue asked. Benny hadn’t even thought about Nadia since Dale came into the Fox Den, but now he was a bit curious. Still, he was worried that Virtue’s imploring attitude would start trouble.

  “Oh, her? She’s just visiting some long lost family a little north of here.”

  “Oh…” Virtue replied, unconvinced.

  While Dale was distracted by Bum’s questions about different components of the chicken soup he was eating, Virtue turned to Benny.

  “He’s lying about Nadia. I’ll explain later,” Virtue whispered.

  Benny became worried. He knew Virtue’s foresight was rarely wrong. Had Dale really changed, or had some of his evil leaked through and taken itself out on Nadia? Benny was still skeptical about Bum, but Virtue didn’t seem worried about it, so Benny hoped for the best.

  Jack noticed Dale and hobbled over to greet him. He introduced Jack to Bum and began describing their adventures in Juvia. Nap, who looked confused, asked where Juvia was, despite hearing Dale mention it earlier.

  “I didn’t think I’d be giving a geography lesson,” Dale said, obviously annoyed, “Okay, sit down guys. As you know, we live in Gant, which is in the Country of Dan. The capital or capitals of this country are the two cities Galver and Elim Dorn, which many refer to as the Sisters Dorn. Now, Juvia is a country to the east of Dan, on the coast. Both are a part of Lower Sultry, which is the continent we live in. Lower Sultry was once a unified Empire which had seceded from Upper Sultry many centuries ago. For a long time there was an Emperor of Lower Sultry, as there is now in Upper Sultry, but over time, more and more land was divided between the various descendants, and eventually the land was split into so many different kingdoms, that the old Empire of Lower Sultry became virtually nonexistent.”

  “And Duke Dijon of Galver Dorn is the direct descendant of the Emperor’s lineage?” Benny asked, remembering old school history lessons.

  “It’s an accepted truth that Dijon and the Sisters Dorn are the last of the true Lower Sultry Empire, but there is no proof of that. Dijon is the closest thing to a ruler any of the kingdoms of Lower Sultry has, so it’s understandable. Anyway, the south became divided more and more by the descendants of the old imperial lineage, and these in turn were damaged by countless civil wars, skirmishes and the like. So, now, aside from Dan, Juvia and a few other larger countries, Lower Sultry is a conglomeration of duchies, earldoms, free cities and independent counties. Trying to maintain some form of pride, a lot of these small principalities have very elaborate names, despite the fact that some of these countries are no bigger than this town. It's ridiculous. This is the main reason the Empire of Upper Sultry and its inhabitants see us southerners as a bunch of hicks and inbred yokels.”

  “Wow…I didn’t know any of that. I only knew of Dan and Ken, where I’m from. I know Ken is south of Dan, but that’s as far as my geography goes.”

  “There’s nothing shameful in that. The only reason I know so much is because I’ve traveled to so many different places.” Dale shrugged and bit into a leg of turkey.

  Just then there was a loud bang as a group of even stranger men entered the Inn. Benny noticed their odd attire, which consisted of turbans and sashes of bright colors, half-moon and star ornaments hanging from their clothes and weapons. They had very dark complexions, and while they appeared human, many of them had tusks jutting out of their upper jaws. The only one who looked completely human was one smaller man, dressed in tight fitting red and white leather armor. He walked funny, as if he had some sort of deformity, and wore a red hoodie over all his face except for his mouth. The hoodie was embroidered to look like a rat’s face. His visible mouth was mottled with pimples and he only had two upper front teeth, which stuck out in an overbite. He had a long strip of white and red silk trailing from the back of his belt. On his back were two curved scimitars. He was obviously the leader of the group. They forced a group of drunkards to leave their table at the other end of the dining hall and began making demands for food and drink. Jack left to see they were appeased, as he had no desire for trouble if it could be avoided.

  “Who are those brutes?” Nap asked. Benny shrugged, and Virtue, who knew quite a bit about the inhabitants of Dan and the surrounding lands was at a loss. Even Dale wasn’t sure.

  “They’re Kudgels,” Bum said, “They are the products of centuries of human and orc interbreeding. Roughly five hundred years ago a small band of orc and human pacifists fled Lower Sultry to get away from some civil war, but I don’t remember which one. They were shunned for being cowards, and were driven far into the western deserts. They remained a small settlement of mixed breeds, but because of their environment they became very vicious hunters and scavengers. Then, about a century ago, their numbers began to grow considerably. They began moving east into Lower Sultry and converted many peoples to their tribe – usually misfits and vagabonds cast out of society – and I’ve heard word from some of my cousins in the west that they are building some sort of secret army.”

  “Are they going to try and take over or something?” Benny asked.

  “The larger their numbers grow, the more the odds would lean in their favor,” Dale said this time, “They are very warlike, and have a very complex military and social hierarchy. They name their ranks after extinct creatures that at one time lived in this continent. Those men there call themselves ghouls, the equivalent to the common foot soldier. That man in the hood is named Red Rat Flack. I’ve never met him, but Bum and I have heard stories about him. They say he is the leader of an entire regiment, and worse than that, one of their assassins. Those red and white colors represent his rank, which I think they call the Grand Cerberus.”

  “But above him are even higher ranking Kudgels. From what I’ve heard of these men, they are powerful wizards and warlocks. The highest rank of the Kudgel society, as far as I know, is the Grand Exalted Cyclops. This figure may not even exist, but many people who have studied the Kudgels think he is a wizard of almost infinite power, and maybe not even a true Kudgel by blood, but a convert who ascended the ranks and killed the former leader. He’s most likely human, since humans have historically had a better control over magic.” Bum finished his speech.

  “You two seem to know quite a bit about these men,” Virtue said.

  “We haven’t exactly been hired to ‘study’ them, but several of our clients in Lower and Upper Sultry think there is a huge conspiracy going on. Dijon claims he has spies in the Kudgel society that verify they are planning to overthrow the governments of Lower Sultry and maybe even Upper Sultry. Bum and I have been forming a network of allies just in case there is any truth to these matters. But, there is no immediate concern. Bum and I just like to be aware of what’s happening on the larger scale. I wouldn’t worry about it until they start causing serious trouble.”

  “Oh, the man who threatened to rip out my intestines and choke me with them says there’s nothing to worry about. I can sleep easy in my bed tonight.” Nap rolled his eyes and walked off to the kitchen for more orders.

  “Well, I
’d like to stay and chat, but I’ve got to earn my keep.” Virtue kissed Benny and went to help Jack take customers’ orders. Benny stayed with Dale and told him about his training with Jack and about his taking over of the more serious duties of the Fox Den.

  “Well, Bum and I are taking a few months off of our travels, so we’ll stay and help you,” Dale told Benny, “and I’ll show you some more advanced fighting techniques. Jack’s nobody to laugh at, but he hasn’t seriously used a sword in so long I’d risk saying his skills aren’t what they used to be.”

  “Yeah, I noticed. I’ve helped him stay in shape, but I don’t think he’ll be able to do serious training much longer. He’ll be fifty in a month,” Benny said.

  “Fifty? Old Jack? Wow, time certainly does fly. I’m only forty-two, but I feel twice as old. I can imagine how Jack feels.” Dale laughed.

  Just then Benny heard a loud voice coming from the Kudgels who had just sat down. He would’ve let it pass through one ear and out the other, but he saw Virtue standing near the man Dale called Red Rat Flack.

  “You think I want to drink watered-down hog’s piss?” The man threw a pint of ale on Virtue. Benny stood up and walked towards them. He knew Virtue could handle the man, but he didn’t want to risk his wife getting hurt.

  “If you like, I can get you something else. We have some nice cider,” Virtue was gritting her teeth, trying to be polite.

  “No cider tonight, but I might take a bite outa that fine dumper you got there!” Flack slapped Virtue on the butt so hard she lurched forward and spilled the remaining ale she carried all over herself.

  Oh no he didn’t! Benny thought. Virtue looked at him, almost as if reading his mind, and winked at him. Benny knew what would happen. Being a pacifist, Virtue never bit an unruly customer in a way that would inflict permanent damage, but she liked to scare them with a temporary paralysis bite that usually kept men like Flack in line. She bore her fangs, which seemed to surprise Flack, and in an instant she dove to the man’s neck and bit him.