A Humorous Fantasy Story
Kunnigr ran into Blight Town, muttering to himself. His robes and ankle-length beard were caked with mud from his long journey down from the mountains. Bacraut, the capuchin monkey sitting on his hunched back, examined their map. Bacraut held the map closer, squinted, and pulled out his reading glasses.
The streets were buzzing with activity. Food carts, wagons, and horses raced by, threatening to collide with each other. Shopkeepers swept off their front stoops. Thieves robbed the shopkeepers. Other thieves robbed those thieves. The town guard ignored it all. Passing around a boot full of grog was much more entertaining than fighting crime.
Bacraut tapped the map, gesturing at a spot a few streets away. “I know where we are going!” the wizard snapped. “Don’t be a back seat driver.”
In Blight Town, humans were rare. Most people in the crowd were dwarves or nisser. A few creatures could have been hideously deformed gnomes or moderately handsome goblins. With a flick of his knobby fingers, Kunnigr cast a wind spell. He giggled as a jet of air sprayed dirt and leaves over the street. The crowd parted, heading for the shelter of nearby awnings or trees.
Kunnigr came to the Fist and Flagon, a tavern with a missing front door. A notice nailed to the wall asked customers to please stop stealing parts of the building. The tavern was a rough place. The floors were sticky with spilled beer and blood. According to local restaurant reviewers, if the fighting didn’t kill you, the food probably would. He stepped inside and was immediately approached by a troll. It was eight feet tall, well-muscled, and hairy, with a voice that was rough and deep. A female. “Hello there, cutie,” she said. “I am Bulgura. Can I buy you a drink?”
Kunnigr tossed his beard over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, madam, but I am in the middle of a most vital –“
“I was talking to the little guy,” she said, pointing to Bacraut.
“He’s not looking for romance right now,” Kunnigr said. “He’s still getting over a bad breakup.”
“Apologies,” Bulgura said. “But you can’t blame a gal for trying.”
Inside the tavern, customers were singing drinking songs, playing cards, or having knife fights. A few were doing all three. At the back of the room, hidden in shadow, was the man they were looking for: Lygari.
Lygari the Barbarian was a mountain of a man, barrel-chested, barrel-legged, and barrel-fisted. He was wrapped in a reddish gray wolf hide, the skin of the monstrous Skalaks, terror of three kingdoms. His vast bone-handled axe, Spirit Slayer, leaned against the wall behind him. In battle, the axe bristled with energy, growing more powerful with every life it took. He wore a magic helmet made from the skull of a giant, said to grant immunity to any weapon forged by man. However, it did not appear to have worked very well for the giant.
Kunnigr approached with caution. He prayed his shaking knees weren’t visible under his robes. “Ex-excuse me,” he said, “I am–”
Lygari slammed his fists on the table and screamed at a passing waitress. “Wench! Bring me another ale!”
Kunnigr took a deep breath and began again. “Er, as I was saying, I am Kunnigr… Kunnigr the Wizard.”
The barbarian laughed. “You’re an ancient man in robes with a beard he could trip on! Obviously you’re a wizard! Get on with it. What do you want, old man?” He reached into his pack and produced a scroll, spreading it across the table.
“I’m thirty-eight…” Kunnigr whispered a glamour spell, trying to appear taller and more imposing. “Mighty Lygari, I have traveled on foot for days, searching every town and village for you. In my visions, I have foreseen a dark future that only you can prevent. You must save the kingdom!”
The barbarian grunted and continued looking through the scroll. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that, right after I finish looking at these erotic etchings.”
Bacraut screeched in rage. He lifted his tail and reached for his rear end. “No!” Kunnigr hissed. “That almost never helps.” Turning to the barbarian, he said, “A supernatural force has arisen that only you can… are you listening?”
Lygari flapped a meaty hand, like he was trying to swat away a mosquito. “Yeah, sure, a supper nature fork. I told you, I’m on it.”
Bacraut jumped from Kunnigr’s back and landed on the table, in the center of the scroll. The monkey slapped Lygari in the face. Grabbing the barbarian’s cheeks, Bacraut forced him to look Kunnigr in the eye.
“Alright, I’m paying attention!” Lygari shoved the monkey aside and rubbed his sore face. “Why do you bother me, old man? You’re a wizard. If the kingdom is in such peril, why don’t you just save it with magic?”
Kunnigr took a step back. “I am a diviner. I watch the Mirror of Time for approaching dangers and find those who can protect the world from them. My job is to delegate tasks, not do them myself. I’m management.”
Lygari’s gaze wandered back to the scroll, but a threatening grunt from Bacraut brought him back to the conversation. “Fine,” he sighed, “what needs to be done?”
The wizard cleared his throat. “Dark Lord Ravnos is working to overthrow the kingdom! Trust me, you don’t want that. He is an evil tyrant who loves torture, pain, and death, and his understanding of fiscal policy is poor at best. You must locate the nine pieces of the Pillar of Silence before he does!”
A waitress brought a jar of ale, which Lygari paid for with a leaky bag of week-old meat. “Nine pieces?” he snorted. “That would take an eternity! How about I locate six? Or five? I’ll find four pieces, and you can do the rest. And I’ll only charge twice my normal fee. How’s that sound?”
Kunnigr called Bacraut to return to his back. “I’m sorry, my little friend, but it looks like we have failed. The kingdom is doomed to fall into perpetual darkness, strife, and economic recession.”
Bacraut tugged on Kunnigr’s beard and pointed across the room. “What’s that you see? Yes, Bulgura could be of help. After all, she is quite a bit larger than our barbarian friend here. She could probably conquer many more foes. Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to ask…”
He turned for Bulgura’s table, but before he could leave, Lygari grabbed the back of his robe. “Wait, wait!” the barbarian said, forcing a laugh. “I was only joking, old man! Of course I will help!” He knocked the scroll aside and threw his axe on the table with an earth-shaking clang. “No need to go to a troll… or a woman… for help. I would be happy to do this for you.”
“For free.”
The barbarian howled, kicking over the table. “Yes, wizard, the Mighty Lygari will work for free! Tell me where to go first!”
Bacraut handed Lygari the map. “The first piece is being held in a frost giant’s lair,” Kunnigr said, “in the middle of the Tundra of Torment.”
The barbarian sighed. Wizard quests were such a pain in the ass.
The End
