Three weeks before current events. A duo of twins fulfills bounties together. Their skills compliment each other often forcing the battlefield into chaos as they attack at range.

  “Damnit Rick, are you going to club that bastard or not?” A tall silver haired woman with ebony skin says her silver eyes glistening in the light of the moon.

  “Sometimes it takes more than one hit, just be patient Beatrice,” he replies.

  The woman holds out her prominent hand pointing it toward a large beast covered in spikes. She uses her offhand as if pulling back on a heavy string. A massive bolt appears along the side of her outstretched right arm.

  “Gods divine, grant me the power of Howitzer, the god of artillery and bring a reckoning unto my foes,” Beatrice chants.

  Rick slams a large club against the spiked creature stopping it in its tracks with a paralysis enchantment. He makes a speedy retreat as Beatrice straightens the fingers on her offhand unleashing the massive bolt from her right arm. It hurtles through the air whistling loudly before slamming into its target obliterating it. Limbs separate from the main body flying into the air as green goo sprays over the area. Their target, a thorned sprite, is no more.

  Sprites are creatures of the earth. Some say beauty, some say abomination. They are often humanoid or animalistic creatures formed from vines and tree limbs. The green goo is enchanted sap, the lifeblood of the creatures. Some pay a hefty price for it. Rick and Beatrice show no interest in collecting it though.

  Rick approaches Beatrice and leans down placing his palms on his knees as he pants trying to catch his breath. After a few moments he leans up pulling a cloth from his inventory and steps over to Beatrice. He wipes the sweat from her brow with the cloth and hands her a bottle of water.

  “Thanks, little bro, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she says tilting the bottle back to drink.

  “Little bro, you were born thirty-seven seconds before me!” Rick protests.

  “So, I was born before you?” She questions.

  “Thirty-seven seconds!” He yells.

  “That’s a long time for some men, well, at-least they seem to think so,” she replies with a sarcastic chuckle.

  “Spare me your love life sister, let’s just get to a town, preferably one with a brothel,” Rick says adjusting his outfit.

  Rick is a ranger, so his outfit is configured for mobility outside of combat. He can’t take a hit, but he shouldn’t have to. His club causes momentary paralysis which Beatrice uses to land her devastating ballista strikes. Other than that, he and Beatrice are more ranged attackers than anything. They like to keep a distance from their targets, and their lovers.

  Beatrice is something entirely different. Her self titled Howitzermage class deals massive area of effect damage at range. She’s rarely in the thick of combat so her outfit is fairly enticing. Made for extreme mobility she’s adorned in what seems like a tennis skirt and sports bra. Pockets are not necessary as most of her attacks are spells and she stores her items in an enchanted pendant around her neck. She does have a dagger tucked into what resemble combat boots incase she needs to defend herself from a stealthy opponent. Her silver hair runs down to the dimples on the small of her back. Her movements are not elegant like Serenity, but energetic. She’s a tall silver haired firecracker ready to explode onto the scene, from a distance of course.

  Blood Sugar Brothel is an establishment in the northernmost region of the Equatorial Marshes where the scaled ones flourish. Peoples of the marsh are often reptilian in nature, like Chrissima. Though the marshes are not limited to lamia, and many different races dwell here hoping to collect the untold wealth of the marsh.

  “See anyone you like?” Rick asks.

  “I think I’m just going to rest for the night, it’s hard work doing all the hard work,” Beatrice replies finishing her pint of mead.

  Rick waves her off and a couple of working women approach him. One is a young Orcen female. The other a faun. Fauns are often mistaken for succubi as they have similar features. Horns adorn their heads, and they have a whip like tail along with their furry legs that resemble those of a goat. This particular faun has ruby eyes that match her ruby skin. A green skinned orcen and a red skinned faun, it’s like Christmas.

  “You looking for company tonight?” The Orcen asks displaying her large muscular breasts.

  Rick turns his gaze to her breasts, then his eyes rise to hers. He smiles and motions for the bartender to bring another drink.

  “Stealing all the fun Garia?” The faun asks.

  The bartender brings another drink placing it infront of the orcen named Garia. Rick stares past her, then back at Garia.

  “A friend of yours?” He asks.

  “Garia thinks for the right amount of coin, we could all be friends.”

  Rick waves the faun over to the now empty seat where Beatrice was sitting. He motions for the tavern keep to bring more drinks and leans back against the bar laying his arms out against it.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met a faun as beautiful as you, what name does such a beautiful creature go by?” Rick asks with a sly grin.

  It’s hard to tell from her red cheeks but the faun blushes a little. She holds out her hand and Rick grabs it pressing his lips over her fingers with a gentlemanly kiss. It seems the two women aren’t the only ones versed in seduction.

  “My name is Vestra,” she says grabbing a drink off the bar.

  “Vestra and Garia,” he says grabbing his drink.

  He orders another round and looks over the two women.

  Garia, the Orcen, has a muscular figure, but not one that is overpowering. She’s less the muscle mommy, and more the warrior princess. Her hair isn’t the traditional dreadlocks either. She has two braids running over the top of her head and the rest of her hair is a flowing dark black. Her cheeks have freckles, which is rare for an Orcen. When she speaks her voice is soft, instead of commanding.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Vestra is a faun with ruby skin and eyes. Her hair is the color of a Raven’s wings, as is the fur on her legs. Her whip like tail darts about the air behind her drawing Rick’s attention. She smiles seeing the desire in Rick’s eyes as he checks her out.

  Rick steps away from the bar motioning to the tavern keeper for a bottle. He takes a bow and holds his hands out to the two women.

  “Vestra, Garia, I would have you both join me, that is, if you think you can handle my voracious appetite for passion,” Rick says challenging them.

  They both stand from the bar, and he leads them to a room in the tavern with a large bottle of alcohol. Rick is not a good fighter, nor is he a good adventurer. Honestly Rick isn’t even a good distraction. He is good for one thing though, pleasure.

  The moon falls and the sun rises giving life to a new day. The meadows north of the Equatorial Marshes glisten in the light of the sun. Beatrice wakes alone in some very provocative undergarments. She pulls a robe over her and steps into the upstairs hallway of the tavern. Warm torchlight graces her ebony skin as she steps down the hall to her brother’s room.

  The sun hasn’t fully lit the day as she pushes his door open. Two naked women lay at either side of him snoring gently. Beatrice steps up to the bed and sighs.

  “Richard, how much did these harlots swindle you out of?” She asks.

  Rick opens his eyes to a new day, his sister glaring down at him. He yawns wrapping his arms around the women as they move closer to him gripping him like lustful vines.

  “Whatever, I’m going to get some breakfast,” she says leaving the room.

  Beatrice heads downstairs. It’s early morning so the brothel is nearly empty. She lays her head on the bar and sighs. A large wolfman steps up to the bar and sets down a small cup filling it with a brown liquid.

  “Morning brew, it’s not great here, but it’ll wake you up,” he says.

  “Thanks, you got a name fluff ball?”

  “Silver, on account of my eyes, and you, never imagined I’d see a beautiful woman like you in a disgraceful shit hole like this,” he replies.

  “Balli Ballista, but you can call me Beatrice, and as for the shit hole, I’ve seen worse,” she says with a tired smile.

  “You seem exhausted, perhaps you could use my services,” Silver says.

  “Oh, I’m horny, but not really feeling morning sex,” she replies.

  Silver smiles sliding her a plate of chikus eggs and what look like pancakes.

  “I’m not a doll, my services include deep tissue and dermis therapy, I am also the counselor for this brothel, sometimes clients can be unruly, and the men and women of the brothel need someone to coach them through those unfortunate occurrences.”

  “How much did my brother pay you?” Beatrice asks.

  “I assure you, I am here to serve the men and women of this establishment, nothing more, nothing less.”

  “I think I am feeling that morning sex,” Beatrice says.

  “Oh, I suppose I’m not opposed to it,” Silver says rubbing his head nervously.

  “You can say no, though I doubt you will.”

  “Let’s just start with a deep tissue massage and see if that goes deeper,” Silver says nervously.

  Beatrice leans in running her finger under Silver’s chin playfully as her silver eyes draw him in. His nervousness probably comes from him being the runt of his clan. Silver is fairly small at only five foot eight inches, where as most wolf men are over six foot some even eight to nine feet. Beatrice isn’t much taller than him, but it’s somewhat intimidating for beast men to take mates that outsize them. Especially the ones who only inherit the ears and tail like Stitches.

  “Oh, I plan to go pretty deep,” Beatrice says with a sly grin.

  Hours later and Rick and Beatrice are saying their farewells to their beneficial acquaintances. They step up to a wagon drawn by two auburn furred hoaram and a Ruksha man greets them.

  Ruksha are a humanoid like lizard species native to the Equatorial Marshes. This particular Ruksha has teal scales and feathers of mixed blues and greens. He, like most Ruksha and Orcen, speaks in the third person.

  “Kadus heads for Heroldin, for coin, you head with Kadus to Heroldin,” he says.

  Rick checks his coin purse, which is nearly empty and gives his sister a quick glance. She sighs rolling her eyes and hands the Ruksha a few silver coins.

  “Kadus is glad to have friends on his travels, what are names of Kadus’s new friends?”

  “My name is Ranger Rick Danger, Ranger’s the game, Danger’s the name,” Rick says placing his hands on his hips stoically as he stares toward the heavens.

  Kadus looks toward Beatrice tilting his head curiously.

  “Kadus is curious if you too are mentally ill like your companion?”

  “Balli Ballista, and unfortunately that’s my brother,” Beatrice replies.

  “Kadus apologizes, he was unaware that the sweetfruit fell so far from the tree.”

  “Believe me, you’re not as sorry as he is,” she replies laughing as she climbs onto the wagon.

  Rick is still standing stoically when Kadus stirs the hoaram. He quickly grabs his bags and sprints after the wagon tossing his things on before jumping on it himself. He lays back splaying out his arms and legs as he pants loudly. A young Ruksha looks down at him giggling.

  She has teal scales like her father, but her brilliant feathers are short and red. This may be telling of her mother’s attributes. She pokes Rick on the nose with one of her claws and he sits up quickly.

  “Boop,” she says pulling her hand back giggling.

  Rick rubs his nose glancing over at her. Beatrice laughs at him shaking her head as she rolls her eyes. Rick takes a seat on the wooden bench across from Beatrice and the young Ruksha, then he holds out his hand with a smile.

  “Name’s Richard Osmund, and what might I ask is your name princess?”

  “Sally Mudrunner,” the girl replies too shy to take his hand.

  Rick retracts his hand and pulls a small flower from his pocket. It’s a tiger-colored lily with a bright blue stem. Sally overcomes her shyness and grabs the lily staring at it with wide eyed wonder.

  “It’s a tiger storm lily, the stems turn blue after lightning strikes the ground near them, it’s the only thing I could think of that would be fitting of a princess like you,” he says ruffling the short feathers on her head.

  “How are you so good with the little ones and have none of your own brother,” Beatrice sighs.

  Rick stares down at his feet as his expression turns glum.

  “Not for lack of trying.”

  The wagon comes to a quick stop and Kadus leans inside motioning them to be quiet. Rick and Beatrice move closer to him whispering.

  “What is it?” Beatrice asks.

  “Kadus sees mangators, a group of them, Kadus might lose the hoaram, Kadus stay in wagon with Sally and they no bother Kadus.”

  “I’ll scout it out, watch my back,” Rick says as his club appears in his hand.

  Like Beatrice’s necklace, Rick has an enchanted bracelet that stores his items. Both items are legendary and of unknown origin. Rick and Beatrice stumbled upon them when they first arrived in this world.

  Rick’s club is a wooden cylindrical shaft that widens at the top. Thin branch like vines wrap around a large crystal at the head of it. It isn’t a heavy weapon despite the large, enchanted stone.

  Rick steps out of the wagon into shin deep marsh. Every step he makes ripples the water giving off his location to any aquatic marsh landers. Beatrice steps onto the front of the wagon casting a few spells that buff her damage output and a ward around Rick.

  A small group of sixteen-foot mangators turns toward Rick as he stops. The ripples in the water have already given him away though. He drinks a blue potion and pulls out a scroll chanting its incantation.

  “May the winters of the solstice bring forth their icy wrath that the waters before me be solid with the ferocity of their power.”

  The swampy waters freeze solid trapping two of the mangators in their grasp. Six more encroach upon Rick and Beatrice. Beatrice raises her right arm pulling back with her left and a large ballista bolt forms along it as she chants a spell.

  “Split the heavens with bolts of strife that my own bolt may bring forth the wrath of smite, render unto me the power of the raging storm that lightning may strike down my foes of might.”

  Beatrice releases with her left hand and a large ballista bolt flies through the air, bolts of electricity arcing around it. The bolt slams into the swamp dispersing into a lethal storm of lightning chaining from one enemy to the next. The smell of searing flesh and scales fills the air as the gatormen are turned into floating charred corpses on the surface of the swamp.

  Rick returns to the wagon. Sally moves from her cowering father to Rick staring at him in wonder.

  “That was awesome, how did you do that?” She asks speaking faster than the words can exit her mouth.

  “I used a cryoscroll to slow the beasts, and Beatrice annihilated them with her lightning ballista strike,” Rick replies patting her head.

  “She’s so cool, I wanna be cool like her one day!”

  “We need to make it to Heroldin before that,” Beatrice replies trying to hide a grin.