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Friday night, the gang all met in my condo for pizza and beer. Francis was an aficionado and brought along a sampling of two six-packs of private brews for us to partake in. I liked one dark one and disliked the pale ale.
We chatted and discussed our finds. Only one group in ten dropped anything decent. Most of the breakout boss groups had a leader who held a reward of some type. Typically, a pouch of silver nuggets or a small gem valued in the hundreds of silver nuggets.
Cait and Kate discovered a Marble in a ghoul Boss and Jude discovered a bone scroll tube inside of an ant’s head.
Me? I saved my surprise for them. When everyone else was showing off their spoils, I hit the head and then came out dressed.
Carrying a Brass Greatsword and wearing a helmet.
Nat screamed so loud that the nearby counties, or was that countries, heard her.
Her sonic attack deafened the rest of us.
I guess that my joke didn’t go over well with her.
Not even the chicken dance while wearing my new magical armor, let any of them forgive me.
“Sorry Nat. I didn’t think.”
“NO, YOU DIDN’T.”
“Unfortunately, the armor is locked in this form. When you buy armor from the store, you can change its appearance. But we believe it can only be changed the first time it was worn. The boss changed his to a brass chain hauberk.”
“It weighs five pounds and has a DR of 3.”
“Where did you get that helmet?” Edna asked. She hid her amusement. Other than Francis, she was the only one that liked my joke.
“Third time through the Blue Portal, it’s a DR of a 3 and looks pretty cool. Kinda like an old English knight’s mail coif, I took it as a souvenir. I like to collect the greatswords; I have a few of them now, but you knew about those.”
“One of the reasons I gathered you all here is that the bidding on this shirt starts at 100 silver. Remember it will size to fit, but you can’t change its appearance.”
“Fucker keep that away from me.”
“Then don’t bid, I want it.” Jude pushed Natalie to the side.
Toff, had rejoined us. He was quiet for the first week after his recovery from the ghoul lord’s near death experience. Heather thought he had a come to Jesus moment. After the docs gave him a clean bill of health, the experienced soldier reaffirmed his commitment and rejoined the hunt two weeks later.
“Five hundred,” was Toff’s opening bid.
“Seven fifty,” Ed replied before Jude, who expressed interest, could even say a word.
“One thousand,” Toff.
“Fifteen hundred,” Ed.
“Two thousand,” Toff.
Jude looked at both as if they were insane.
“Twenty-five hundred.” Apparently, that was more than Toff owned.
“Anyone else?” I thought it was too sudden for everyone else to react. Five seconds had passed from start to finish.
Kate sighed. She had the silver, but wasn’t willing to prevent the frontliners from getting their hands on armor, she was safe in back and needed it the least.
I could tell that from her hesitant expression.
So too did a few others.
“Sold.” I accepted Ed’s silver, which she gave willingly and practically yanked the brass link shirt off out of my hands.
Shimmying it on like a dress, it tightened over her strong athletic frame. Ed’s blue T-shirt hid under the chain links. Small prominent mounds also made their presence known. Standing, the shiny shirt hung and hugged her body like a mini-dress, to just below her ass.
“Greedy bitch,” Jude finally got out.
“You could go clubbing in that,” Cait grinned.
“How does it feel?” Kate asked. Her curiosity was not just superficial. She was saving for her own shirt.
“You should paint it black,” Nat muttered.
“You have to admit that it looks great on her.” Heather looked closely, having Ed pose and turn for her, which she did evenly.
“How much are they in the store?” Cait asked.
“One like that is 7500 silver. I’m not sure if those cover the same or less. I do know pants are separate. Gloves and boots are as well, but those come in a set.
“A full set for 22500?”
“Hat sold separately.” Francis chimed in.
“I’m not sure if that is expensive or not. It might be worth it.”
“Look at Edna and Toff, ask them if they would pay 5000 or even 7500 for that shirt and the same for pants,” Francis noted.
“I was going to get the 10K one, but Heather talked me into an overall DR 1 Passive Skill. I’m still not sure if I made the right choice.”
We relaxed, played party games, and mostly relaxed some more the rest of the evening.
I passed Toff the 2500 that Ed paid for the shirt when I separated him from the pack and spoke with him in my office for a few minutes before everyone left for the night.
Even at 7500, that shirt was impressive. I had not realized it until I tested it against a few ghouls by letting them hit me while I wore it a couple of times and came out mostly unscathed.
I understood that my DR passive played some part in resisting their attacks, but, coupled with the shirt, their claws were mostly negated. Needless to say, fully armored up, the zombie attacks were reduced to hard bumps.
The trial against me for scaring the shit out of Nat and my opinion of the shirt were discussed for an hour before the conversation diverged to whatever the girls wanted to discuss. We mere men followed or not, as was our want.
Due to Toff’s age and experience, I could tell that he never fully meshed with any of the rest of us. Francis and Edna were okay, but he had ten years of active duty on them and had earned a few more ranks.
The fact that I was outside of the strict military ranks made it easier to talk to me than to those two. Heather was an officer and his boss. She was almost okay. The rest of the girls were ‘teenaged girls’, and outside of his understanding.
But he was an excellent teammate. That was the most important thing in my opinion. I thought it was in his too, which was why he was here tonight and participated willingly in our fun and games.
Something which we did too little of.
We all took the full weekend off, even Ed’s team which had a Sunday first-level run planned in the Blue. I didn’t want to descend to the second floor in that one until everyone, including Nat, did the full five runs and was ready.
She would always hate and fear, a little, the skeletal undead, but if she wanted to keep up, she needed to learn. Besides who was to say that future portals would not be just as bad or worse?
Both Kate and Natalie’s eighteenth birthdays were Sunday and Monday. I had been informed that a public celebration for Kate would lead to her not speaking to me for months.
Jude made the arrangements and paid for them. She made a dozen chocolate cupcakes with a single candle in each, no frosting. Sunday morning, six women, plus myself, sat around the kitchen table after breakfast wishing the pair a happy birthday. No singing was allowed either.
Presents were encouraged.
*Grin.
I handed gift cards to both birthday girls and passed Nat my keys to take the quad of teenagers to the mall for clothes shopping and lunch. Cait had mostly merged with the trio, at least socially. Heather returned to work. It had stacked miles high during the outbreak of the previous week; unlimited overtime was on her agenda.
Whether she wanted it or not.
Ed dragged me to Kyle’s and sparred with me for a few hours, under the guise of learning how to move in her new armor.
I had fun playing around with different weapons, not worrying about accidentally hurting my opponent.
At the Universal Exports Med Center, there was only one tub. An ice bath for two didn’t lead to any hanky panky, but our bruises appreciated the treatment. Ed was more relaxed than I, while both of us leaned back chilling in our black undergarments.
We realized that armor was most effective against mobs and lesser bosses. She could take countless light hits and a decent amount of medium hits with only bruising, but a single hard hit still was a danger. Not that I hit her hard intentionally, but my Skill with a greatsword needed years of improvement.
It was fun playing a Ghoul with a pair of gauntlets and attacking with my ‘claws’. Like ghouls, once committed, I tried not to care if I were hit, leaving large welts under my padded armor. And a few on her.
Same with me acting out the part of Skeleton Boss.
We groaned, on getting out of the deep fiberglass tub. Not being allowed a hot shower after that was a war crime, if there ever was one. She drove, so I waited after dressing; killing time and talking to the in-house medic/physical therapist.
Edna came out of the women’s locker room in a white, long-sleeved, button-down high-collar shirt, a tight black and gray striped vest, tight, creased extra-long slacks and leather charcoal-gray pumps. I had not realized that she had done her nails earlier. A deep red. Her toes too. More made-up than I had ever seen before, including bright red lips and hair in a bun. Ed strode towards me.
“What are you looking at?”
“You look great.”
Like a hot librarian.
That thought would have gotten me killed if said aloud.
When she pulled out her oversized sunglasses. The icing topped the cake, making walking slightly uncomfortable.
“My mother is visiting my sister for the week. Sunday dinners are formal and I don’t do dresses.” Noticing my uneven stride, she said “It’s only bruises, you big baby. Don’t play wounded all of a sudden. At least you don’t have to play nice to the family and listen to why you aren’t married with a dozen kids like your brothers and sisters.”
In a great mood, Edna was unusually talkative, driving me home in her two-year-old metallic-orange Charger. She loved her new armor. I even received a large grin and a thank you, for ‘not hogging it’ after our sparring session.
I was quite attracted to those bright red lips and eyes which smiled for the ten-mile drive to my new condo.
“Are you okay? You look out of it,” she asked, after pulling up in the condo parking lot.”
“It’s been a long week,” I deflected.
“Ha, it was. See ya later, Jason,” waving, she sped off.
What the hell!
I entered my condo and pulled up my email. There was nothing worth reading, my mind wandered and the next thing I knew, I was surfing for librarian porn.
I closed that page FAST.
Fuck it.
A half-hour later, my bedroom had two odors in it, one of liniment, and the other was residue of my impromptu masturbation session.
I was napping after dinner, with one eye on the preseason reports (American football). ESPN was blathering their way through. For the umpteenth time, I noted that they needed better or even a real set of reporters, when the Fearsome Four banged the door open, loaded with bags of clothes.
An hour later, I received a phone call with Heather swearing a long stream of expletives. I nodded in the pause while the girls continued modeling their purchases. As they had for the last hour nonstop. Not that I minded.
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