>>3425088
>It was because Trull started talking rot about your dearly departed mother and you wanted to shut him up

>>3425088
>It was because Trull started talking rot about your dearly departed mother and you wanted to shut him up
Nobody makes fun of our mum!

>It was because Trull started talking rot about your dearly departed mother and you wanted to shut him up

Tis one thing to try and take money from orphans, another to harass some young girl, but when you start talking shite about mum, ye get a fist in the gob.

>>3425088
>It was because Trull started talking rot about your dearly departed mother and you wanted to shut him up
What the fuck did you just fucking say about my mum, you little bitch?

>>3425181
I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Tusks of the Bull, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on the Serpent Cult, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in elephant warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire Scarleton armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit about my mum? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of priests across Scarleton and your karmic accounts are being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the Gornate Temple and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo.

>>3425196
Excellent work, anon. We should join the Scarleton AF so we can make this threat for real.

>>3425217
And we will, if OP comes back ever

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Another blow to the opposite temple retrieves the memory. You had been minding your own business by the foot of the bridge, trying to "relieve" some fish from the fishmonger's boat when Trull and his goons decided to play their usual game of "throw the orphan into the river". Thankfully the waters aren't too cold this time of year and the dunk was more refreshing than anything else. Then came the verbal abuse. The usual, "you stink like goblin shit", and "look at the quivering little farteater" and "your face looks like an orc had sex with a pineapple" (you're not entirely sure what this one means, Trull might just hate pineapples--which is silly, because pineapples are delicious) and so on. Permutations you've seen many times before and have even grown a little bored of.

And then he drops the petard. He hits that one place that no self-respecting man can take lying down. He calls your mother a two-bit elf-schtupping whore. Which to be fair, she was and it was even something of a badge of honor, but no one gets to call her that to your face, least of all Trull Drummond.

"What the fuck did you just fucking say about my mother you little bitch?" The words rang out like a wet slap. Common sense was obviously asleep at the reins and the rest, as they say, is history.

As yet another blow threatens to collapse your skull, a voice rings out from the bridge. The kind of deep, bass voice which suggests an above average girth and several dozen illegitimate children. "Oi, piss off." It says. Trull Drummond, fearless idiot, decides not to obey these simple instructions.

"Who the hell are you?"

The man casually jumps down the fifteen feet from the top of the bridge. Even with both your eyes rapidly swelling shut from the bruises, you can tell this man is not ordinary. For one thing, he's a frog. A giant, hyper-muscular frog, with pants. And a sword. "My name is Verde and you donkeys are about to hee-haw yourselves out of here before I get angry. And you don't wanna see me angry."

Trull Drummond is unafraid. "I'm not afraid of you. Why don't you go back to your lilypad frogger?"

"What did you just call me? You little scumsucker, only we get to use that word." What happens next probably scars Trull for the rest of his life. Trull and his goons attempt to bullrush the frog. The frog doesn't budge. Every single one of Trull's blows is dodged with the smallest amount of effort, too fast for the eye to follow.

"Stay still you bastard!"

Verde responds by lifting Trull off the ground with one hand and throwing him about twenty feet into the river. His sidekicks decide their hero is on their own after that and high-tail it. Trull swims to the opposite bank, throws out one last threat consisting mostly of references to his father's position as a guildmaster and runs off as well. Verde offers you a webbed hand a smile.

"You alright mate?"

>"I was doing just fine before you showed up."
>"Yeah, just peachy."
>"I think so, thanks for saving me."

>>3425385
>"Yeah, just peachy."

>Hyper-muscular frog man
>Strong sense of justice
>THAT'S OUR WORD
I like him already

>>3425385
>"Yeah, just peachy."

>>3425385
>>"I think so, thanks for saving me."

>"Yes... can you teach me how to do that? That was badass."

>>3425385
>"I was doing just fine before you showed up."
I think it'd be fun to not start as a perfectly reasonable fellow, just this once.

>>3425654
Wouldn't that be the "peachy" option, it's a decently cheeky response without being a right cunt.

>>3425385
>"Not worse than usual anyway"

>>3425494
>>3425787
These.

"Yeah, just peachy." You take his hand, expecting more slime than there actually is (he's wearing gloves) and he pulls you to your feet.

"Well at least he didn't beat your sense of humor out of you." He adjusts the collar of his cloak. "What were you thinking lad? Those boys were at least twice your size and there were three of them."

"They were talking rot about my mother."

"Say no more, say no more. I understand completely. You've got spunk, but you'll never win that way. Your form is atrocious."

"Yeah thanks for your "help". Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to try and bleed somewhere else." You attempt to walk past him but he places a gloved hand on your shoulder and it's suddenly like trying to walk through a wall.

"Those boys will be back and they'll beat you twice as worse the next time. I can't help but feel partially responsible."

"Why? Because you threw Trull--who's a child by the way--into a river and almost killed him? Come on, cut yourself some slack, any insane person would have done the same thing in your shoes. Take comfort in that."

"I've got it." It's very strange seeing a giant frog snap his fingers, but also weirdly satisfying. "I'll train you. Once you tap into your Fighting Spirit™ those idiots will be a cakewalk." He releases you and folds his arms, nodding sagely. "What do you say lad?"

"Nah, I'm good." You continue onward to the bridge. Verde stands there with a stunned expression on his face, which because he's a frog, looks more like he's about to swallow a handful of fish.

"What? Wait, no, no, no you're supposed to be all "Oh thank you master Verde, how can I ever repay you?" and there's a training montage and at some point I give you a silent nod of approval, like this, and then those bullies come back and you--you're not confident in what I taught you, because you know, you're an idiot, but then you absolutely destroy them and then I find out you have a cute older sister and--hey wait up!" He somehow jumps--flies really--twenty-five feet into the air and lands right in front of you. "Lad, you want to get your arse handed to you again?"

"I'm a pacifist."

"More like take-a-fist. Look I can't just leave this alone, it's against my principles. And without principles what are we? I'll tell you. Animals."

You stare at him for a moment. "Yes, Gorn forbid someone mistook you for an animal."

"Exactly lad, and one of my core principles is that I always finish what I start." He takes a knee. "Lad, I see a lot of myself in you."

"My mother always said I had a wide mouth."

"You have the Fighting Spirit™ of a master, I can see it in your face." You gaze into his large yellow eyes (which is kind of hard because they're on the side of his head) and something stirs in your breast.

"You really think so?"

"No, not really. I don't know why I lied to you just then. But you do have enough to beat those bullies. What do you say?" He smiles, his eyes are shining.

1/2

>>3425874
"No."

"What--but you--alright, alright lad, have it your way. I guess I'll just have to kill those brats."

You stop. "Kill them? What do you mean kill them?"

"I never leave anything unfinished. One way or another they're going to leave you alone." He adjusts his cloak again. "I've never killed children before, but I guess the first time's always the hardest."

"You're not serious."

"Do you know where they live? Oh silly me, he said his father was the guildmaster, he shouldn't be hard to be find."

"You're serious."

About fifteen minutes later you're running wind sprints around a small field at the outskirts of town with a small flat boulder tied to your waist. From the sidelines, Verde offers his own trademark encouragement. "Pick up your skirts Nancy, we're not having a tea party here, this is serious business! Don't slow down. Don't you slow down Hercman. Do you know what happens to frogs that skip leg day? Grenouille, that's what. I will eat your gorndamn legs if you don't give me another three laps Herman, I swear to Gorn."

You give him two and then collapse in a heap of sweat and burning muscles. Verde jumps over and sets you upright. "How do you feel?"

You lean over and vomit.

"Good, good. You're now ready to tap in to your Fighting Spirit™."

"Please just kill me."

"Now this is your first time so I don't expect any miracles, let's just start with something simple."

>What kind of Fightan Magic are we dealing with here?

>Energy blasts and "this isn't even my final form" transformation magic
>Elemental magic with custom attacks that have over-the-top names
>Enchantment type magic because swords are cool
>Literally spells
>Literally superpowers
>All of the above

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>>3425876

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2.9 MB GIF

>>3425874
>>3425876
Also

All of the above

>>3425876
>Enchantment type magic because swords are cool
I want to be the Generic Anime Swordsman!

>>3425968
fug off, Gary Stu enabler.

>>3425876
Why not all of it? Untapped potential, yadda yadda.

Actually fuck it let's go Kung Fu
>>3425931

>learning Kung-Fu
>when our teacher is obviously a Glenn expy
ISHYGDDT

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>>3426027
Forgot pic

>>3426027
He's very obviously not Glenn though. I can tell 'cause he hasn't lapsed into "ye olde English" yet.

>>3426048
>he hasn't lapsed into "ye olde English" yet
That's obviously to avoid copyright.

>Transformation + energy blasts.

>>3425876
>>Enchantment type magic because swords are cool

And then when we lose an arm or two we can make some awesome magic robot arms.

> Energy blasts and "this isn't even my final form" transformation magic

>>3425876
>All of the above
This is Fightan Magic, you have to have all of them

>>3425876
>>All of the above
God.

>>3425876
>Elemental magic with custom attacks that have over-the-top names

>>3425876
>YES
WE MUST ASSUME THE POSITION AND STRAIN LIKE WE ARE TAKING A SHIT FOR TEH REAL ULTIMATE POWAH

>>3425876
>Energy blasts and "this isn't even my final form" transformation magic
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=dj7F3ipFDLI
Obtain final transformation

>wanting to be a Super Sand Lebian
gross

>>3425876
> ENCHAMTNENT BECUASE SORDS R COOL

Writing for
>all of the above

But only in the sense that they exist in the world, and will be encountered at some point. For now Verde will focus on

>Energy blasts/transformation magic
>Enchantment

Hope everyone is alright with that.

>>3429289
Swords are cool

>>3429289
Shit
Why couldn't you all choose everything we could have been ultimate fighter reeeeeeeee

Can we make Golems with Enchantment?

"Concentrate on your navel," Says Verde. "Are you concentrating?"

"Yes, but exactly why do I have to stand on my head for this?"

Verde pauses and scratches his non-existent chin. "Because...because that's just the way it's done, that's why. Not everything needs a reason."

"You don't actually know do you?"

"...moving on. Navel. Do you feel a swirl of energy, a light tingle, a spark, a kind of heat?"

"Wait...yes! Yes, I think so. Is that the spirit?"

"No. You should probably ignore that. This, is the spirit." And then he places his palm on your stomach and in that moment a cool summer breeze seems to suddenly pass through your body, making it feel weightless, dissolving all the fatigue of the last hour like salt in a vat of boiling water.

"Woah."

"Try to hold on to it, keep your attention on the navel. Try to hold it there."

You try, but it's impossible. The wind rushes toward your feet, impeded only a little by gravity and only little more by your own effort. In less than a minute the feeling is gone. The fatigue is not as bad as it was before, but when it returns, you collapse to the ground.

"Well, the Tusks of the Bull aren't formed in a day. Let's try again."

And so it goes until the sun starts to set. Verde "ejaculates his spirit deep inside you" (his words) while you try to keep it from spilling out of your body so that it can "take seed" (once again, his words). At the very end you actually manage to hold it for a whole ten minutes at which point it just stays there by its own accord.

"You did it. You took my spirit into your deepest place and now you have a part of me inside you. This is a special moment. We should hug." He opens his arms wide. You fold yours.

"No. And please never say any of that ever again."

Verde is visibly disappointed. "Tomorrow we'll focus on some techniques. The spirit can be used in many ways, the most basic of which is enchantment." He draws his blade from a sheath built into the round shield he carries on his left arm. A flat slab of ordinary steel, "Watch." He places the blade on a boulder, tapping it once, twice and then the third time the blade sinks into the rock like it was made of taffy. It doesn't seem like Verde is putting any effort at all into the strike.

"That's incredible." You say, touching the spot where the blade cut through, a perfect cleft in the solid stone. No tricks. Real magic.

"That's a high level technique, but the basic principle is the same. We'll start by enchanting your body--but that's for tomorrow. It's getting late."

"Yeah, Mother Constanze is going to give me an earful." You pause and give Verde a low bow. "Thank you...master." And then you turn and run off.

1/2

Any sense of lingering gratitude is destroyed instantly when you discover Verde back at the temple, surrounded by a gaggle of the sister initiates. "...so then I said, what's wrong baby? Got a frog in your throat?"

This makes all the sisters giggle a few of them flush and one of them offer the words, "Oh, Mr. Verde, you're so bad." in a tone of voice which is frankly a little inappropriate for a girl that's just taken a vow of chastity.

"Master?"

"Herc! What a small world this is. Ladies this Herc, my disciple."

"Yes, they know who I--wait, what are you doing here?"

"Well, the people in the town said the temple offered free accommodation so..."

"Yes, for the orphaned and homeless...wait a second, you're homeless?"

"We prefer the term domiciliarily challenged, actually. Let's all do our part to reduce the stigma." The girls behind him nod in agreement.

Mother Constanze seizes this opportunity to appear from the shadows (you're 90% certain she was an assassin before she became a priestess). "Mr. Fletcher, is this...creature a friend of yours?"

"It's more of a master-disciple relationship actually," Offers Verde, smoothly taking the head priestess's hand. "Verde at your service. And may I just say madam, you've aged beautifully." He plants a kiss on her hand. "You don't look a day over 55."

"I'm 43 years old."

"I was never very good with numbers."

Mother Constanze looks to you for an explanation.

>Keep it straight, he is your master (for better or worse) and you'll vouch for him
>You've never met this amphibian before in your life
>Tell Verde point-blank that he can't stay here, there's plenty of inns in town

>>3429399
>>Keep it straight, he is your master (for better or worse) and you'll vouch for him
>Tell Verde point-blank that he can't stay here, there's plenty of inns in town

>>3429399
>Keep it straight, he is your master (for better or worse) and you'll vouch for him
>Tell Verde point-blank that he can't stay here, there's plenty of inns in town

>>3429399
>Keep it straight, he is your master (for better or worse) and you'll vouch for him
>Begrudgingly allow him to stay, there's plenty of room and it might make training more efficient in the long run.

>>3429399
>Keep it straight

Fuckin hilarious OP

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>>3429483
These.

Also, OP, this is the funniest quest on the board.

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"He's...my master. But he won't be staying here," You look to Verde. "Right?"

"Let's not jump the log here. Technically I'm allowed to stay." He looks to Mother Constanze. Mother Constanze looks to you.

"But he's not going to, because he has money and there are plenty of inns in town that will take it." You grab his hand and drag him toward the door. Verde can't really make any argument against that, considering that his coin-purse is hanging visibly swollen from his belt.

"Until next time, ladies." He says, waving to them. Mother Constanze gives the giggling girls a look that scatters them like a flock of birds that have just discovered a cat. "Sweet girls. Especially that redhead with the hips."

"Please don't seduce people that have taken a vow of celibacy."

"Are you really going to kick me out? Come on lad, it'll be fun. Like a slumber party. We'll swap ghost stories, talk about life, go panty raiding--between you and me, I don't even think the redhead wears any, definitely worth investigating."

"You're going straight to the nearest inn and you're paying for a room. I'll come find you tomorrow morning but please just go now before someone else--"

"Hello Hercman Fletcher." You freeze. Of course, the worst possible person just has to show up right now.

"H-hello Goldie." You need to stop swallowing, why are you swallowing so much? Did she notice? No, no, you're too far away, she couldn't have--oh Gorn, she definitely noticed. She's staring at you now. You should say something. "I'm swallowing because I'm thirsty." You're swallowing because you're thirsty? Is that human language? And why are you narrating your own actions?

"Oh," Says Goldie. "So, who's your friend?"

"Verde at your--"

"He's not my friend."

"...I'm not?" Despite having a voice like an old church bell, Verde somehow manages to make this utterance completely heartbreaking.

"That is, it's more of a master-disciple relationship. He's sort of training me."

Verde brightens immediately, even going so far as to squeeze your shoulder. "That's right. And Herc here has been a star pupil, let me tell you. Why, he was able to hold me completely inside him after just one day's work. Now, granted it did take some effort, because it kept slipping out but--" He pats your navel. "He has a piece of me inside him now and that's all that matters."

There's a momentary silence. You look at the ground like a man who has climbed to a high place and is trying very hard to come up with reasons not to jump off. Trying very hard.

Goldie stares at your bruises for a second, but doesn't say anything. "Well, anyway, I guess I'll see you inside." Her voice is so soft, so sweet. She smells like her namesake, marigolds, which is to say she smells like stale urine, but mixed with that is the aroma vanilla, stuck to her clothes from her labor at the bakery. She's so pretty you just want to grab her and--alright, pull it together Hercman.

1/2

>>3430711
"Did the Baker's son give you some pastries again?" You gesture with your eyes toward the basket in her hand.

"Mm-hmm. He even saved a few of the fresh ones, even though I told him not to. He's such a sweetheart. He cares so much for the orphans." He's scum that needs to be drowned. She moves past you to the door and curtseys to Verde. "It was nice meeting you Hercman Fletcher's master."

"Please call me Verde."

"No." Says Goldie, offering no further explanations and disappearing into the temple grounds.

"I like her," Says Verde, walking with you to the gate. "Are you and her..."

"What? No!"

"Oh, is she also celibate?"

"No, she's one of the orphans."

"So...oh. I see."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You don't think I'm--"

"Of course not...and even if you were, it's fine. It's 347 years after the death of Gorn, there's no judgement here. Why, I even remember when I was young there was this handsome tadpole that almost made me think--"

"Please, for the love of Gorn, let's not have this conversation."

Verde kneels and touches your shoulder. "I'm just trying to tell you lad...that I accept you."

"I'm not--" You massage your eyes. "Look I'm just not good with girls alright? They make me swallow too much."

Verde shakes his head. "They should be the ones doing the swallowing, lad."

"Be that as it may, please don't say anything to Goldie--or to anyone for that matter."

"Deal." He say, standing. "But in exchange you have to let me help you bag this girl."

"What? No. I'm not going to "bag" anyone."

"Well not with that attitude. And besides, what kind of master would I be if I didn't at least help my disciple get some pus--" He never gets to finish this enlightened sentiment because a young milkmaid whose body fat has gathered in just the right places happens to pass by. "Great Gorn, what are they feeding these girls? Sorry lad, I suddenly have a hankering for milk. Meet me at the bridge again tomorrow and keep focusing on that navel whenever you have a free moment." The last bit is nearly inaudible as he's already halfway to the girl.

You return to the temple, get scolded by Mother Constanze, have a short dinner with some of the leftover pastries (among which are none of the brownies that you like) and retire to the bunks. The other orphan boys are playing cards or just shooting the breeze before lights out. You are counting the spare change in your cigar box. The plan was to buy a present for Goldie's birthday next week. There's a hairband you've picked out that you just know she'd love, it even has a colored ceramic marigold on the body. Unfortunately you're still a few dozen silvers short.

>Perhaps you can win the difference by playing cards with the other boys
>Time to head for your night job, to earn the money the old-fashioned way
>It's been an exhausting day, focus on your navel like Verde advised until you fall asleep

>>3430715
>>Time to head for your night job, to earn the money the old-fashioned way
The house always wins, so cards are out.

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>>3430715
>Time to head for your night job, to earn the money the old-fashioned way
Work super hard so we get more shekels.

And QM, I want to tell you that you have a real talent in writing humour. Keep it up, lad.

>>3430715
>Gamble

>>3430734
There is no house. It's a group of orphans lol.

>>3430715
>>It's been an exhausting day, focus on your navel like Verde advised until you fall asleep

>>3430715
>It's been an exhausting day, focus on your navel like Verde advised until you fall asleep
acquire fightan magic -> git gud -> find hidden treasures -> get poosy, or don't because the way of the master tolerates no distractions

>Time to head for your night job, to earn the money the old-fashioned way

>>3430715
>>Time to head for your night job, to earn the money the old-fashioned way
I bet the Baker's son wants to put his dough in Goldie's oven

>>3430715
>>Time to head for your night job, to earn the money the old-fashioned way

>>3430734
>>3430790
>>3431010
>>3432702
>>3432883
>>3433294
>they don't want to train
Weak! Ultimate power is not for you. Go back to your homes and live soft cushy lives.

>>3433488
We hustling for money, can't go martial without equipment.

Unless going unarmed strike monk, but still

>>3433488
Women, something, something

>>3433524
True, but down the line we're going to be so powerful that our sword will be internalized, we will cut with our body
>>3433674
brains for cocks, something, something

>>3433488
I don't think that that's a training vote. I think it's a vote for 'none of the above, advance to next day.'

>>3433488
By gambling we train our sixth sense, ignorant fool.

>>3433682
You mean cocks for brains, right? It'd be freaky to get all steamy with someone and suddenly they whip out a wet, wrinkly brain out of their underwear.

Also yeah, being able to cut fools down even when unarmed sounds rad.

>>3430715
Ay son, you up?

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>>3434144
>You mean cocks for brains, right?
y-yes
>Also yeah, being able to cut fools down even when unarmed sounds rad.
It's a Wuxia thing. If we git gud enough we could be like Dugu Qiubai, who went even further and made the whole world his sword (this means that everything is a deadly cutting instrument in his hands from blunt knives to seafoam).

>>3438142
>spit at someone
>you cut his cheek
>splash him with what you got in your cup
>big fucking gash
>clap his shoulder
>loses an arm
Nasty, I love it

Come back OP :(

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The short walk to the graveyard always makes you nervous. It's not until the rusted iron gate and the intervals of tombstones come into focus that you feel secure. Perhaps it's strange for a boy feel at home among the dead, but then your parents are buried here and in that sense, it almost is home.

"Is that you Fletcher?" Dr. Soon D'Ray is the resident apothecary, alternately a self-proclaimed genius and "worthless piece of rat excrement" (her words). Rumor has it that she was once a famous lecturer in an institute so prestigious that its name is actually forbidden from being spoken aloud by the common folk. You suspect its really because the name is so cumbersome: City University of the Northern Terzetto. You will therefore refer to it by its acronym...on second thought, it might be better not to speak of it at all.

"Yes ma'am, it's me."

"I wanted to kill myself today." You never know which side of the genius/rat-excrement coin you will face each night, but the good doctor is not the type to hide her emotions.

"I'm very sorry to hear that."

"I didn't though."

"Yes, I can see that."

"Don't misunderstand, it's not like I like myself or anything."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm an idiot you see. A waste of human potential. Hmm?" She leans as if you'd said something when, in fact, you hadn't said anything. "Don't be stupid, Fletcher, of course I don't like myself. Look at me, how could I or anyone like this mass of disgusting corpulence." In fact, Dr. D'Ray could give some of the aforesaid milkmaids a run for their money. Fat? Yes. Well-distributed? Also, yes. She even had that soft matronly face suggestive of a former beauty that had not quite faded and which drove certain men to flock to her shop to buy things they didn't need.

"Positively hideous ma'am."

"Well I wouldn't go that far. I do have some good qualities...but that's not to say that I'm not going to kill myself, Fletcher. That's still on the table."

"Much as I'd like to discuss your suicide ma'am, maybe we should get to work."

"Yes, of course." She begins dribbling her lower lip in thought. "You see how much a dolt I am Fletcher? They used to call me Stupid Soon. Did you know that? Bassoon they used to call me, because I was so short." In fact, she still is. At the age of 16, you already dwarf her and you still have a few inches left to go. She hands you the shovel and sends you off for the nights quarry.

Cont.

>>3443968
Yes, you moonlight as a gravedigger. It's not glamorous work, but it is honest. Actually it's illegal. But the doctor pays well. You unearth the dead, the doctor takes their internal organs, you re-earth the dead. You don't know what it is she does with the hearts, kidneys, brains, intestines and, on occasion, testicles of the dearly departed. You're not sure you want to know. Today it's spinal fluid, thank Gorn, which means you won't have to help in the "extraction" as she has some instruments of her own devising which do the job perfectly well. Normally she will pace the graveyard like a duck, sometimes breaking into short sprints like she suddenly remembered she left the stove on. Her skirts will fly behind her and her ample flesh will knock against her little arms--not that you've studied this to any degree, it's merely a passing observation.

Today however, she hangs around, pacing in a tight circle. "You seem different today Fletcher. You are Fletcher right?"

"Yes, ma'am. That's why I've been answering to that name for the past half-hour."

"New haircut?"

"No ma'am."

"New cologne?"

"I've never worn any."

"New teeth?"

"I'm...not even sure what means."

"Well what is it then?"

"It could be the bruises."

"Didn't you always look like that?"

"No ma'am, my face is usually less purple."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

She considers this moment, dribbling her lower lip once more making and an extremely annoying sound with her nose that some of the younger boys are very fond of. "No that can't be it. Have you been bathing yourself in cows milk?"

"No."

"Ah, so cow's semen then?" She nods as if she'd just cracked the case wide open.

"I'm not sure why that would be next the logical step in this deduction, but no. Just water."

"Damn." She snaps her fingers and then thinks for a minute. Then, "Are you sure it wasn't cow's semen?"

You slam the shovel into the dirt. "Where would I get a quantity of cow's semen big enough to bathe in?"

"I think of a dozen sources."

"You can? ...I think we're getting off-track here. I did not bathe myself in any fluid other than whatever flows in the Scarleton river."

"Doubtful. Very doubtful. I can't imagine why you would lie about this Fletcher."

"Really? You can't think of one reason why someone would lie about bathing in cow semen? And I'm not lying."

"Well what is it then?"

"I already offered my explanation."

"Which was?"

"The bruises. This eye swollen shut. This split lip. This general black and blue discoloration."

"No, I'm pretty sure that's not it. Have you recently taken in someone else's ejaculated spirit deep inside you until it took seed?"

"Wait, that's actually a thing? That's actually what it's called?"

"So, did you?"

"Well...yes, actually. I met someone."

"A girl?"

"No, a frog."

"I...see. I didn't know you were--well there's no judgements here. It's 347 years after the death of Gorn. Please continue."

"No, no, he's my master."

Cont.

>>3443970
"Wow, so you're really into some--again, no judgements here--but I mean, it's a little unexpected Fletcher. You just don't seem the type...and with a frog. How does that even work?"

"It's not that kind of--" You close your eyes, take deep breath and resume shoveling, cutting chunks of the earth away with extreme prejudice. "He's training me, OK? Like a mentor. Like how to fight and bag women."

"Oh, that kind of master." She resumes pacing, at last satisfied by the conclusion of this insane exchange. "Wait, bag women?" You regret ever having been born. "Are you having troubles Fletcher, in the romantic sense?" Dr. D'ray is also a frequent contributor to the Keyhole, a bardic organization that collects erotic stories for middle-aged noblewomen. She often regales you with her latest wild-eyed tale of boundless passion, tales that can only be described as horrifying, and that, as far as you're aware, have never actually been accepted by the bards. Hope springs eternal, but in this case you wish someone would strangle it in its sleep. "So, who is it Fletcher? Is it me? Now, Fletcher, I'm flattered but we both know I'm too old for you and frankly speaking, a little out of your league."

"It's not you."

"What? Why not? What's wrong with me? Is it because I'm fat? I knew I should've killed myself this morning. Stupid Soon! It's the Gornmass dance all over again. Well who is it then? Who's this hussy that's so much better than me? Not that I like myself or anything. Don't you misunderstand Fletcher."

"It's just a girl at the temple. Another orphan. I'm really not comfortable talking about it."

"I understand." She nods, as if she really does understand. Then, "Is she pretty?"

"She is to me."

"Well, why didn't you come to me? I could've helped you...bag this girl, just as well as any frog."

"I don't doubt it, ma'am."

"Well, I'm glad you told me, because now I can advise you. This is what you'll do, Fletcher. Are you listening? Here's what you'll do. First, you're going to go the flower vender in town and by some long stem roses. Then you're going to go to Dr. D'Ray's tonics--that's me by the way, Fletcher."

"Yes, I know who you are."

"Good. You'll buy five miligrams of powdered slumbershrooms. 5 miligrams, you understand? Make sure you ask for 5."

"Won't you be in the shop with me? Also I'm not sure I like where--"

"Shut up for a second, Fletcher, I'm trying to save your love life here. Alright where was I? Yes, 5 mg should just about do it. You'll mix that with a glass of water and pour it on the flowers, that should dilute the effect so that she doesn't go into a coma."

"Wait, coma?"

"You'll give her the flowers, she'll smell them and go into a weakened state. You'll carry her to a bed or better, make sure there's a wall nearby so you can pin her against it. And then you'll undress her and--"

Cont.

>>3443970
"Let me stop you right there, because what I think you're describing--and please do correct me if I'm wrong--is rape. It's literally rape."

She pauses, and then falls to thinking and then shakes her head. "No, I really don't think it is. You didn't let me finish."

You massage your eyes. "Let me just...I have sex with her, is that right?"

"Yes, of course. Raw--which reminds me I'll need to give you some prophylactics, do you know if she likes cherry or watermelon flavor? Actually the watermelon still needs a little work, it tastes more like honeydew melon right now."

"So I've drugged her, carried her to a bed--"

"Pinned her against the wall."

"Pinned her against the wall. And I then have sex with her. Now--and this really is the crucial question in this whole operation--is any of this against her will?"

"Well, you'll know afterward won't you?" She puts her hands on her hips, laughs, looks over her shoulder to an invisible bystander and rolls her eyes, as if to say, "can you believe this guy?"

"Yes, I suppose I will. Especially after my trial, on the short walk to the gallows."

"For what?"

"For rape, Dr. D'Ray. For having sex with a girl without her consent."

"...so you're not going to do it?"

"No, I'm not going to--you're asking me to drug the girl I have a crush on, carry her to a bed--"

"Pin her to a wall."

"Pin her to a wall! And then rape her. No I'm not going to do that."

"Well I really think you're making a big mistake."

"Noted."

"Girls love this kind of thing. You do know that? It's a common fantasy."

Thankfully it is at this moment that you finally hit pay dirt, because you were about ready to bury yourself alive. The body of, what appears to be a 45 year old man with a swollen head ("Brain tumor" according to Dr. D'Ray), is exhumed and the good doctor is momentarily distracted, and strangely elated, by prospect of extracting spinal fluid from the deceased.

"So you're learning how to tap into your Fighting Spirit™? Having secret crushes, suddenly embracing violence--is this a puberty thing? Is this because of puberty?"

"No, Dr. D'Ray. As I've already mentioned, I was in a fight. I'm just learning how to defend myself."

"Is he qualified? This master?"

"He's very strong. His name is Verde."

"Verde? The Verde? As in Verde the Sturdy, Verde the Vanquisher?"

"I don't know. It could be. Is he famous?"

"He was the class A guildknight for one of the guilds. I don't remember which one but there are only a few class A knights on the whole continent." She pauses and goes back to her work, and you, like a fool, begin to think that you're safe. "I'd like to meet him." She says, dispelling that notion instantly. "I think we can work together on your training, and there are a few potions I've been meaning to try out on living subjects."

>Under no circumstances can these two ever be allowed to meet. Lie if you have to.
>Your life is already in shambles, might as well pull the trigger all the way

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>>3443975
>Under no circumstances can these two ever be allowed to meet. Lie if you have to.

>>3443975
>>Your life is already in shambles, might as well pull the trigger all the way

Please don't leave me again OP. I love you.

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>MEDIC!

>Your life is already in shambles, might as well pull the trigger all the way

> Your life is already in shambles, might as well pull the trigger all the way

>>3444074
Changing to
>Under no circumstances can these two ever be allowed to meet. Lie if you have to.
>>3443975
Because they're gonna meet anyways and it's funnier this way.

>>3443975
>>Under no circumstances can these two ever be allowed to meet. Lie if you have to.
Fate however, is not without a sense of humor. Or irony. Or cruelty.

>>3443975
>These two can NEVER meet. Say sure but give her the runaround.

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>Under no circumstances can these two ever be allowed to meet. Lie if you have to.

>>Under no circumstances can these two ever be allowed to meet. Lie if you have to.

Btw OP this is by far the best writing I've ever seen here. The comedy is golden

You shout the word no at the top of your voice, as though waking from a terrible nightmare. Dr. D'Ray does not seem to register the sheer horror in your voice and only remarks, "Why not?"

There are people in this world who can think on their feet. There are people, usually holding up a champagne glass and smoking black dragon tobacco, that can conjure up witty retort after witty retort on almost any topic, even as a swift kick is being delivered to their shins. You, however, are not one of them. It's clear these two creatures should never meet, but the reasons are too deep and perhaps too obvious to be articulated. So you decide to lie. There are people in this world who can lie. You also, are not one of them.

"Why not?" You say.

"Yes, why can't I meet him?"

"I just don't think it's a good idea."

"And why is that?"

"I just don't."

"But why?"

"Well...I'm just not sure the two of you would get along."

"Nonsense, I pride myself in my amiability and politeness. Not that this pride is indicative of any self-love, Fletcher, don't you misunderstand."

"Yes, ma'am."

"So you'll introduce me to him?"

"It's just that...he might offend you."

"Nonsense. I'm very thick-skinned. They used to call me the human callus. Did you know that Fletcher? They had a little rhyme to go with it: the callus to phall--"

"It's not so much his speech..."

"What then?"

"...his odor."

Throughout this conversation the doctor had been working with her instruments in total focus, but at this she must at last look up.

"A bad smell?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Like what for instance? Rotten eggs? Compost? Excrement? Fungus? Feet? Is it feet? Is it feet, Fletcher?" You attribute her breathless excitement to simple scientific curiosity and nothing more. The alternative is too horrifying to consider.

"No it's not feet. It's really beyond all description."

"I see. Well I have a tolerance for such things. I'm sure it won't be a problem." Yes, somehow you had forgotten that you are standing in the middle of a cemetery, speaking to an alchemist. Why you thought a foul odor would deter anything is anyone's guess.

"Actually, he doesn't smell."

"No?" She almost sounds disappointed. "Well why did you lie? You know I hate it when people lie to me Fletcher."

"It's just, it's a difficult thing to talk about. I'd feel uncomfortable talking it."

"Understandable." A pause, once again, the illusion that she really does understand. "So what is it then?"

"Well..." Nothing comes to mind. Crickets nervously fill the silence until words come out of your mouth that, for years to come, will be analyzed and scrutinized and lamented in a thousand different variations. Hypotheses will be proposed. Concrete conclusions, prove ultimately illusive. "He's not very bright," You say. "In fact, he's a little slow."

"He's retarded?"

"Mentally handicapped," You correct. "Let's all do our part to reduce the stigma."

"You're studying under a retar--a mentally handicapped person?"

Cont.

>>3448564
"Mentally handicapped frog."

"Right." Dr. D'Ray falls into deep thought, perhaps pondering whether her amiability and tolerance also extended to the less mentally gifted. "Well...good luck with that then." Evidently it did not. "But you're taking romantic advice from a retard?"

"Mentally handicapped. And actually he's very good with women." You're in this now. You've chosen your hill.

"Is he. Well, considering the caliber of women in this town I suppose his success isn't really surprising. I for one could never be with a man that was not at least my intellectual equal. That is why you and I can never be together Fletcher."

"That and the fact that I harbor no romantic feelings for you whatsoever, Dr. D'Ray." You don't mention the statutory rape, you feel it's self-evident. You are, of course, wrong, but hope springs eternal for the both of you.

"Don't be silly Fletcher. As if your consent was even a factor--I could take you at anytime. How much do you weigh? 150? 160 pounds? 7 miligrams. Maybe 8 if you had a big breakfast."

At least she's changed the topic from Verde. We should all be grateful for the little victories. As the night winds down and your employer describes, in some detail, her "perfect date" (which in fact sounds more like the carefully formed designs of a serial killer) you begin fantasizing about giving Goldie the headband. Maybe she'll be so overcome, that she'll throw her naked arms around your neck and give you a kiss. And it is these thoughts and a few more silvers in your pocket, and the assurance of a beautiful reciprocation, which carry you all the way home. The fastest way to a girl's heart is with a gift after all.

---

"The fastest way to a girl's heart is between her legs." Says Verde. "And I don't mean that in an anatomical sense." Back at the foot of the bridge, Verde has decided to open up the training session with a dose of worldly wisdom. "What you have to understand lad, is that women love to be raped." You close your eyes, wondering what you did to Gorn to deserve this. "But they can't admit this to anyone, not even to themselves. So it comes out as an attraction to what they call "confidence", but what is in reality, dominance--or what I like to call, the Will to Rape. Are you writing any of this down?"

"No. I didn't know I was going to have to take notes and what does this have to with fighting?"

"Fighting? Lad. Herc. Hercman. Do you want my help bagging this girl or not?"

"I clearly don't."

"But I thought you fancied her?"

"I do. But I have my own plans."

"Which are?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I've been saving up to buy her a present for her birthday next week. A hairband. With ceramic marigolds and--"

"Stop." Verde massages the space between his enormous eyes. "Great Gorn, it's even worse than I thought. She's going to be so dry, you'll be able to polish glass with her cu--"

"What's wrong with giving her a gift? Girls like gifts."

Cont.

>>3448565
"Yes, from their grandmothers. Not from someone who's trying get inside her. Which are one are you lad?"

You look at your shoes and kick the grass. "The one trying to get inside her." You mumble.

"What was that?"

"I'm the one trying to get inside her."

"I'm sorry, I don't speak milquetoast. You want to try a language with some balls?"

"I'm trying to get inside her." You shout.

"Louder Nancy. Get inside who?"

"I'm trying to get inside Marigold Summers!" You scream, at the top of your lungs.

"Hello Hercman Fletcher." Says Marigold Summers. You turn around. And there she is in her apron, leaning over the railing of the bridge above you. Ah darkness, my old friend.

"Hi, Goldie."

"What are you doing?" She says.

"Oh I was just about to drown myself."

"I see."

"Yeah."

It's time to run. Maybe if you beg, you can convince the guild teleporter to send you to the nearest town on the few silvers you have left. Yes, you'll change your name and make discount furniture. It's decided then. You're name is Samuel Johnson and you make tables.

But the accursed toad, the origin of this calamity, comes up behind you and squeezes your shoulder, freezing you in place. "Hello there Goldie, do you remember me?"

"Yes, Hercman Fletcher's master, I do."

In an act of surprisingly masterful ventriloquism, he begins whispering to you without moving his mouth. "Now ask her if overheard you."

But she speaks before you can say anything. "What exactly did you mean by that?" She says, pointing behind her as a reference to a point of time that will now live forever in infamy. "Were you talking about me?"

"OK so scratch that. Tell her that you were, and that you meant every word."

"I can't tell her that! She'll hate me!"

"Hear you nothing that I say? Confidence, Herc. The Will to Rape. Say it."

"No."

"Say it or I will."

You begin swallowing.

"Stop swallowing."

"I can't."

"Alright, well just say it then. And try to deepen your voice a little."

"Hercman Fletcher are you lis--"

"I meant every word! Yes, it was you and I meant every word." You attempt to put some bass in your voice, almost throwing up in the process. "I wanna be inside you...baby."

There is a tense silence, similar to the moment before the executioner's axe falls on a neck. Goldie runs off without another word and you begin to see your whole life flash before your eyes. There's not much there, admittedly. Verde claps your back. "Well done, lad."

"Well done? Well done? What part of that was well done? I'm not well done. I'm burnt. Oh Gorn. I told her I wanted to be inside her. I called her baby, for Gorn's sake! Why didn't you kill me?" You grab him by the collar. "You could have prevented this."

"Would you relax mate? Did you even get a good look at her? She was blushing."

"Oh yeah she was...she was blushing?"

"Beets lad. Redder than roses."

"What does that mean?"

Cont.

>>3448566
"It means, you're well done--but she'll be wanting it raw." He winks. You have the paradoxical urge to both kill and hug this toad. You settle on a solemn handshake, a pact between men--or whatever its amphibian equivalent.

"So what happens now?"

"Now I teach you how to enchant your body with Fighting Spirit™."

The basic technique is easy enough to describe, but its execution proves much more difficult. The spirt which has taken seed inside of you (which Verde calls "the Reserve") can now be manipulated ("pulled" according to Verde) and gathered in one place, but any time you try to do so the spirit gets pulled back toward the navel, straining your body as if you were pushing against a weight. The moment you let go, the spirit snaps back and some of it is lost. Verde has to keep pumping you full of his own spirit while you try to enchant your fist and punch through a tree.

"Try to realize that the pulling isn't constant. There's a subtle ebb and flow to it that you can exploit. If you follow the rhythm it becomes easy, like tacking a ship."

"I've never been on ship."

"Just focus."

"Isn't there another technique I can learn? Maybe I'm not compatible with this one."

"You'll never get anywhere by quitting halfway...but yes, there are other techniques. The spirit release, for example, shields your body in spirit for a short while, at the expense of depleting your Reserve to zero. Or spirit projection." He demonstrates this by throwing a stone into the air and vaporizing it with some kind of energy beam fired from his finger.

>Better stick to the basic enchantment
>Let's try the spirit release
>Shooting beams of energy basically trumps everything

>>3448567
>Shooting beams of energy basically trumps everything

>>3448567
>>Better stick to the basic enchantment

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>>3448567
>>Better stick to the basic enchantment
Slowly but surely. Then the Spirit Gun.
Also, thank you for coming back. This is the funniest quest I've read on here bar none.
>You've chosen your hill
>dat transition
>You could have prevented this

>>3448567
>>Better stick to the basic enchantment

OP you're killing me
pls give notice if you're leaving
and archive this we're on page 9

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>>3448567
>Better stick to the basic enchantment

>this whole disaster
O am I laffin

>>3451664
Be the hero you see in yourself and archive the thread.

>>3452037
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=fightan%20magic%20quest

Couldn't let this die.
Come back, OP ;-;

>>3448567
>>Better stick to the basic enchantment
This for going FURTHER BEYOND