Ilya Thumbs, Mistress of Magic:
Fireball! by CountryMouse
“What,” asked Yutjaa, “is that smell Thumbs?”
“It’s bat guano,” Ilya Thumbs said innocently, the young Elf stuck her tongue out concentrating on the tatau she was currently hammering into her own skin. She had been working on it every night of their trip.
“Bat… shit?” Gurdy, tamped the gut strings of her lite to stop them ringing, she scrunched up her cerulean face in disgust, “You’re putting bat shit, on your skin?”
“In my skin.” Ilyna paused mid-tap but didn’t look away from the design on her forearm. “Just a small bit of it added to the ink. When I’m ready to cast the rune, it burns the bat…”
“Shit!” Yutjaa said. Along with just about everything else Orcs did not like the mincing of words.
“It retains a connection. When I burn the um… shit, it powers the tattoo.”
“Why go through the extra trouble though Ilya?” Gurdy asked, “I’ve seen you summon a fire before, without using a tatau. You lit this fire.”
“No,” Yutjaa corrected angrily. “Thumbs lit my blanket on fire. Now there’s a big hole in it.”
Ilya put down the reed and mallet looking hurt. Gurdy played peacemaker, “Ilya said she was sorry Yutjaa, and she gave you the gold for it.”
“Gold I have to spend on a new blanket!” The Orc roared. She took a deep breath, for once Yutjaa wanted a job to go smoothly. Ilya was the most inexperienced conjuror in the guild, but she was the only one willing to work with Yutjaa.
Hurdy Gurdy was here because she was good at calming the Orc down. Yutjaa grumbled something about wanting to be alone and stomped off.
Ilya and Gurdy gave each other amused looks. “Wanting to be alone”’ was Yutjaa- speak for “going to pleasure herself until her temper cooled.” The orc needed a lot of alone time.
The young elf’s black reptilian eyes darted around anxiously. Her skin turned almost as blue as her own. The Boswell was reminded that these beautiful forest creatures could change their skin color and move their visual orbs independently as lizards did.
Gurdy played a pleasant C major chord adding in the 4th tone. Though she had lost interest in the subject, the Trog knew there would be no rest for any of them until the elf was allowed to finish her thought. “Please go on with your explanation Ilya.”
Ilya grinned, cutely extending her fangs, elves were strict carnivores. “Well you are right, I have mastered a minor cantrip to produce fire at will. She wiggled her 4 fingers, entirely normal, only humans had 5 full digits. There was a pop of air followed by the bellow of an Orc that wanted her alone time.
“Yutrus’s Puss!” Shouted Yutjaa from the bushes. “I’m going to kill that inept gecko!”
Ilya’s skin turned bright orange, then settled with yellow when no Orc came charging out of the bush. The elf showed Gurdy the intricate design embedded in her forearm. “With a rune, I can contrive a more complex spell, a more powerful magical fire that won’t harm you or Yutjaa, something I wouldn’t normally be able to cast.”
“That’s why you needed our hair?” asked Gurdy.
“Yes. See I’m slowly putting magical energy into the tattoo, the spell has already been cast. When the time comes I will light this,” Ilya pointed at the little vial of bat poop, “and all the power I’ve been siphoning into it will be released at once. All I will have to do is hit the Ogre.”
Gurdy noted that Ilya was a terrible baseball player, after convincing the team she could pitch they then had the only All-Hitter game on record. Coach McGregor decided her gifts were better suited as an outfielder. “Don’t you worry about a gangrenous infection?” Gurdy worried, “Oh elves are immune to everything aren’t they?”
Ilya smiled, “Highly Resistant, not immune, we let humans believe that to further our mystique with them. We are an older race that has survived many diseases, that’s all.”
“Yes I do worry about that, but once I invoke the rune all the ink will be destroyed and the mark will go away. Too bad, it’s so pretty.” The adorable elf’s smile consumed her whole face. “I will have to use it by tomorrow anyway
Yutjaa slumped back into camp, naked from the waist down, even grumpier than before. She added her scorched pants to the campfire. Looked at both of her companions, with particular disdain at the young elf, then laid down for the night.
“I suppose that means we are to keep watch. Probably for the best, Yutjaa needs to be well-rested for the battle tomorrow.”
“I will go first,” Ilya volunteered. “I have more work to do.”
“I will stay up with you a bit,” Gurdy said, playing in the key of C she ended her improvised tune with an eccentric turnaround from C to the 4th, 2nd, 5th then ending back on the 1st.
Yutjaa rose to one elbow and pointed a warning claw at the Bard. “One more chord from that thing and not only will it go in the fire but so will your Seal-Skin.”
There was a high chance that Yutjaa was bluffing. The Orc was Gurdy’s oldest friend though and she knew better than to test that theory. She laid the gut-stringed lute down.
Yutjaa grunted and laid back down, crossing her arms over her stomach. Gurdy asked quietly “Would you like me to lay with you Yutjaa?”
“I want you all to shut up!” The Shield-Sister jumped to her feet and mumbled something about wanting to be alone.
Ilya woke with a deep brown complexion, her world spinning. Someone, Yutjaa, had lifted from her bed and was carrying the little elf woman over their shoulder.
“Shh.” Gurdy put a blue hand over her mouth before the Forestling could cry out. “Quiet young one we must get clear of the camp before he spies us.”
“What is going on? Who… Oof!” Yutjaa set the Pixie on her feet and jabbed a quick, brutal punch into the pit of the girl’s stomach to stop her from talking.
“It serves you to be a quiet elf!” The Orc commanded in a savage whisper. Ilya wrapped her arms around her little belly and dropped to her knees choking on the Shield-Sister’s meaty fist, her flesh went from brown to deep red. “You fell asleep on watch this morning and the Ogre caught us with our pants around our ankles.”
Ilya jammed her upper arm over her mouth to mute her coughing. They were far enough away to speak quietly and still observe the massive goblinoid giant. Like many of his kin, his skin was a ruddy brown that helped him camouflage in his natural hot and sultry environment. Despite their ton of muscle they were famous for their skill at subterfuge, he had walked into the middle of their camp any of them even woke.
They could smell the sweat, and other nasty things, on his swollen body from a hundred feet out. He had uneven tufts of hair everywhere but the top of his head, with a great beard that fell to his knees.
Ogres were dull, walking fortresses, that were often served and commanded by their more intelligent goblin cousins. They were the rare product of an unfortunate meeting between a troll and a giant who had too much to drink.
“That’s the largest male I’ve ever heard of,” Gurdy commented. “He’s taller than a house.”
Yutjaa grunted, Ogres were considered sad abominations to her people, who were distant relatives of both the goblins and the humans.
“How do you know it’s a he?” Asked Ilya. They only saw a dress, apparently with a body inside it, when they turned to look at her. The elf had backed into the brush and blended in with the tall grass. She waved, turning blue again, “Over here, sorry.”
“Sweetie,” said Gurdy soothingly “have you never been with a man? Look at his waist.”
Ilya went red, “Oh my! I thought that was a loincloth.”
Gurdy chuckled. “No dear.”
Ilya tried, “He’s a three-legged Ogre?”
Yutjaa smiled this time. “No.”
Ilya put her hands over her womanhood turning Orc red. She silently uttered “Wow!”
“He’s big.” Yutjaa agreed, “but at least it’s not a female.”
“Do you think he’s in league with the Queen?” Gurdy asked.
“No,” said Yutjaa. “He has no vassals, and I don’t see a saddle. By the size of him, he must be ancient.”
Gurdy nodded, “I’d wager he’s been here since before the humans moved in. Could be a hundred plus a half years old.”
“The Gobs probably can’t catch him,” Yutjaa agreed “and Bonemuncher can’t be bothered to take him down herself. Even for her, it would be risky.”
“Have you ever seen Queen Bonemuncher..?” asked Ilya always eager for knowledge. Gurdy gave the Elf pup a warning look. Never ask a free Orc about the Queen.
Fortunately, Ilya was spared a second punch to the gut as Yutjaa merely grunted. The young elf changed the subject, “If others have tried, what hope do we have?”
Now the Orc Shield-Sister looked at Ilya with a pleasant, teeth-baring smile.
“Wouldn’t you be more suited to this Gurdy?” Ilya was a darkening mix of red and yellow, which Gurdy recognized as nervous fear. “Not that I wouldn’t do everything to help the team, but you are the thief.”
“Boswell’s are not all sneak-thieves.” Gurdy chuckled bunching up the elf girl’s robes. “We don’t usually hire thieves, they keep stealing from us.”
Ilya’s long tongue lashed out licking both solid black eyes before she blinked to disperse the moisture. She turned distinctively more red than yellow. It was rare to see an elf, and meeting an elf merely one score and half old, almost a child, was even rarer than seeing an elf with gray hair. They were usually much better at passing for humans than their own Ilya Thumbs.
Why pass for humans? Because they fought the war on behalf of everyone else. The beasts and the fae knew their great nations were falling, and that the world belonged to the short-lived, ingenious humans. Gerty had only to see a crossbow being fired once to know she would be the last generation of Seal-Skin to live on land.
“But why,” Ilya asked, sensing that she was being too fae, “must I be naked?”
“You are far from being naked, child,” said Gurdy, which was true, under her robes the not quite 5-foot tall girl wore a white linen bodysuit that covered her upper torso, and over that a second top that had no front, but gave her mid-length sleeves. It was a hot climate so she was not wearing a petticoat so that Gurdy could appreciate the girl’s powerful, thick, thigh muscles. This was a girl built for tumbling and jumping. “Your robes will just get in the way and you need to be able to move quickly and quietly.”
Ilya was silent. That wasn’t the real question and Gurdy knew it.
“You messed up by falling asleep. Yutjaa left her sword and armor behind to save you. You must earn Yutjaa’s, and my” Gurdy made eye firm eye contact to ensure the young elf whose side she was on, “trust back.”
“Now go, and be careful.” The Boswell spun the cute young Forestling about by her shoulders and gave her a playful smack on her pert little rump.
The ancient Ogre was even larger up close, nearly thrice her own height. Ilya pitied the creature, all alone in the world for so many years, hated only for trying to live. He probably was not even aware of how old he was, but he was getting too close to the villages and the humans needed him to put down.
The Ogre had killed their horses and was ripping through them as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks. This was the problem, Ogres would eat horses, cattle, and people. If it wandered into a village it would cause great damage before they stopped it. If they even could stop it.
What Ilya didn’t know was that the horses were part of Yutjaa’s plan. The only thing Ogre’s liked more than females was a good meal.
Ilya entered their demolished campsite on her bare tip-toes. Elves were made for the swamps and forests so the muggy heat didn’t bother her. Although she was aware of a mischievous draft tickling the naked inseam of her thighs.
She had three aims: Yutjaa’s sword, Yutjaa’s chestplate, Yutjaa’s shield. Then if she got that far, Gurdy needed her lute. This was all so that Ilya herself could get a clear shot at the Ogre’s chest with her custom spell.
Ever efficient, the Orc warrior had her gear neatly stacked together, Breastplate, shield, and longsword. Ilya checked on the Ogre, he was still facing away from her, happily gnawing on a horse leg. They specifically instructed Ilya to attempt only one item at a time. That way they would have at least some of the gear they needed if she failed and they had to come to save her, but that would mean sneaking out and sneaking back several times.
The Forestling assured herself that she could carry the sword and shield in one go. Her companions saw what she was doing and gestured passionately for her to stick with the plan. Ilya returned a positive gesture, she had this and lifted both the sword and shield.
Ilya grunted, feeling the muscles in her abdomen and chest protest. The shield was surprisingly heavy, and the sword was also on the weightier side. The Orc was exceptionally strong and had used gear as heavy as possible for protection and impact. Ilya still felt it was manageable and began walking back to her party members.
Soon the elf understood that it wasn’t the amount of weight they were concerned with, but the noise the gear would make. Ilya tried to weave her arm into the straps of the shield but found that it slapped against her thigh as she tried to walk. The sword was balanced for a 6-foot tall Orc woman more than 50 pounds heavier than herself. Ilya had to carry it right in the center to be able to walk with it while keeping her muscles tight the whole time. The scabbard had a strap that jingled as she padded over to her friends.
“What in Gruumsh’s One-eye are you doing!” growled Yutjaa aiming a fist at the girl’s taut belly.
Gurdy threw herself between them, “Stop! I’ll let you kick her ass later my friend.”
Ilya looked betrayed, her red skin deepening. “You will?”
“You’re damn right I will if you don’t do as you’re told Elfling.” Gurdy swatted her on the behind again. “Now go get the armor, and only the armor!”
“You’re right. Thumbs does have a gorgeous backside.” Ilya heard Yutjaa comment, as she scampered away in her bodystocking and lovely bare legs. “I will be the next one to spank her, yes?”
The little Forestling was back in what was once their camp. Yutjaa’s armor was a leather harness that supported a robust metal front plate. This was much heavier than both the sword and shield together and Ilya grunted slightly as she tried to lift the breastplate.
The Ogre heard the sound and whirled around with impossible speed. Smelling the air.
The elf was so startled by the speed of the monster that she almost ended herself by crying out. She flung a hand over her mouth as anxiety overtook her, turning her skin black. As the Ogre sniffed around trying to locate her she could see that sometime in its long life it had lost an eye, and might be blind in the remaining one.
The thing’s wide flat nose was almost as big as her head. It sat shallow on its face, as equally broad as it was tall with a dropping nasal septum and wide nostrils. The Ogre pressed it to her face, threatening to inhale her headscarf.
Then the monster stuck out its tongue and gave Ilya a massive lick from knee to head. Ilya felt as though she were going to wretch for the smell of the Ogre’s breath. She deduced that the beast had lost his smell and taste, and must only live for texture.
It grabbed the top of her white hood lifting the girl off the ground while she kicked at him furiously with her bare legs. Ilya slipped out, abandoning the garment to land sleeveless as her hair spilled loose around her shoulders.
She was still reeling from the smell when the hulking beast stuck out a barbed nail. He hooked it into the collar of her silk body stocking and, rudely, ripped down.
Ilya gasped, brutally, and suddenly naked. The habit tore away in one quick motion, no match for the sheer savage strength of the Ogre. She stood there confused and terrified, with all her clothing laying in shreds at her feet.
Then Hurdy Gurdy was at her side, somehow holding her Lute in one hand and offering the armored chest plate to Ilya with the other. “Get this to the Orc and get your spell ready. Do you have the vial?”
“I…” Ilya stammered. Gurdy noticed that the pretty Elf was nude and gave her a leering once over. The Selke woman whistled her appreciation of the girl’s firm muscle tone and long, elegant limbs. She gave Ilya a wink. “I suppose not.”
The cute Elf girl was suddenly intensely embarrassed and moved her arms to cover up. “It’s in my robe.”
At that instant, the Ogre clutched his hand about Gurdy’s waist and lifted her effortlessly into the air. “Run Elf! Don’t let me die!”
Without so much as a thread left on her body, the young Elf girl sprinted in search of their Orc companion.
Gurdy used an enchantment on her Lute that amplified its sound 20-fold and created additional distorted harmonics. When the Ogre brought her near his gaping maw she hit a dissonant chord with a minor 3rd and a diminished 5th. A thunderous banshee wail that made the earth shake, demanding a sonic resolution that never came.
“‘Scuse me, while I kiss the sky! Woo!” The Trog made horns with her index and pinky as the Ogre dropped her to cover its ears. Ilya thought that probably hurt, his sight and smell may be gone, but he could hear just fine.
While Hurdy Gurdy’s onslaught of noise held the Ogre at bay, Yutjaa peered out from her hiding spot behind some trees to intercept Ilyas. She had Ilyas robe. “Over here Knife-Ears help me with it. Hurry.”
Ilya stood behind the Orc Shield-Sister securing the fasteners as she donned the chest plate. It was a no-nonsense plate of folded steel forged by a human blacksmith. The humans were steadily catching up to the dwarves in their metalworking prowess, another sign that it was time for the older races to move on.
“A little tight on the right shoulder,” Yutjaa advised. She windmilled her arm to test her mobility. “Why are you naked?”
Yutjaa began jogging towards the Ogre. “We’ll put something on, it’s distracting me.”
That was the nicest thing the Orc had ever said to her and it made Ilya’s blush turn a brighter yellow. She hastily pulled her robe overhead, thankful for clothing, but missing the body stocking.
The Ogre was building a tolerance to Gurdy’s acoustic assault. It lashed out, knocking the Lute from the Seal-Skins hands so that it smashed into pieces against a rock. Gurdy swore, “Everyone’s a critic!”
Free of this torment the Ogre moved with frightening speed to grab Hurdy Gurdy by the legs and hoist her upside down. The Ogre brought the Selke to its mouth and let out an ear-shattering roar that caused the leaves of nearby trees to swirl away.
So too did Gurdy’s clothes. As she dangled by her feet the monstrous bellow shook her red hair loose, popped off the buttons of her tunic, tearing it open to unveil a beautiful set of breasts, and ripped her trousers to ribbons.
“Awe c‘mon.” Gurdy squirmed, more annoyed than embarrassed. “That stuff costs money and I work for a living.”
She looked more fearful when the Ogre brought his other massive hand up and peeled off the remaining shreds of clothing with a single rip. Already an attractive woman in her figure concealing man clothes, Gurdy was a slim and beautiful creature without them. “Oh!” She cried out, furious.
Finished unwrapping its dessert the Ogre lifted the blue-skinned woman towards its gaping maw. Hurdy Gurdy kept her cool, crossing her arms over her exposed breasts. “Anybody? Help? Yutjaa? Cute naked elf girl?”
Then the hairy grey hand that held Gurdy’s life was hit by a fiery missile. Ilya was still breathing hard from her running, she needed to get in better condition for this sort of thing, the 4 fingers of her right hand emitting trails of smoke.
On impact it shattered, setting fire to the hair all over the Ogre’s arm. The beast howled, tossing Gurdy any which way. The girl, stripped to her boots, let out a scream as she vanished over the treeline. “Not a better scenario…”
“Oi! Ogre here!” Yutjaa challenged, running up as the Ogre furiously patted itself trying to choke out the flames on its arms and chest. She wore her chest plate over a sleeveless padded tunic along with a kilt. She used her sword to beat the side of her shield, which was strapped to her unfavored arm, like a drum.
The Orc’s arms and legs were the biggest and most defined Ilya had ever seen on a woman and many men. The hard sinew rippled beneath her ruddy grey skin as she walked toward the giant Ogre.
Yutjaa’s black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. With her lifestyle, it would be wiser just to cut it short, but even though Yutjaa openly mocked womanly tcotchkis, she actually liked being a girl and wouldn’t change that. Who would tell her no?
To Ilya, she asked, “Gurdy might be dead. I hope that wasn’t the spell.”
“No.” said the Elf turning from red to green. She held up the vial of bat-guano “Buy me half a minute.”
Yutjaa nodded solemnly. The Shield-Sister addressed the great beast. “Whatever your problem is, man up and get Ogre it!”
“Eh?” She glanced at Ilya for approval, but the Elf just shook her head. Yutjaa shrugged her brawny shoulders and charged forward while Ilya broke open the vial.
An Orc took her work seriously and laughed at herself. Yutjaa wasn’t very good at the second part. Her family knew what they meant to her, and understood the sacrifice she made leaving them behind. Her tribe as a whole did not, and they died believing she was a traitor.
Her life among humans was difficult, even though her actions were in their interests, she was still seen as the enemy. The lack of male Orcs around didn’t help her foul mood. She was afraid she would break a human man.
Cute Elf girls did not make things easier.
Yutjaa figured this might be the largest male ever seen. The largest Troll; the smallest Giant. The bastard mule of the gob-bloods, though they had been known to bear children.
The Ogre recoiled when he saw Yutjaa, why couldn’t they just let him have his meal? Upon closer inspection he assumed Yutjaa to be some sort of Ogre child or dwarf challenging him for supremacy. The monster squatted back, throwing its head up to make a throaty wheezing cough.
“What’s happening?” Asked Ilya from some distance, “Have you killed it already?”
“It’s laughing at me.” The Orc admitted reluctantly. She noticed the Elfling was on all fours. “And what are you doing?”
“Well um…” Ilya said turning peach. “I opened the vial and…”
“… Then I dropped it.”
The Orc half turned to glower at the elfin evoker, if the Ogre didn’t kill Ilya today, Yutjaa would. “The vial or the bat-shit?”
“The guano,” she replied sheepishly, Yutjaa terrified her even more than the Ogre. “But it’s a little round pellet, it should be easy to spot.”
Yutjaa grumbled something about fried elf ears for supper. She turned back to the Ogre just in time to see his thumb and pointy finger fill her vision. She raised the steel-reinforced wooden board strapped to her arm and braced herself.
The Ogre reached out and flicked Yutjaa as though he were playing marbles. The Shield -Sister was thrown from her feet landing some dozen distance behind Ilya.
“Found it!” Cheered Ilya triumphantly. Her companion wasn’t where she expected and she had to search for her. Yutjaa was crossly wrenching the two halves of her splintered shield from her arm.
The Elf scooped up the guano in a kerchief and took a whiff to check on its freshness. She regretted that straight away. It was fresh. She was experiencing all sorts of bad smells today.
Ilya took a defensive stance that would give her a chance to dodge out of the way if the Ogre came near. Then she snapped her fingers igniting the kerchief and its contents into a green ball of flame.
She uttered another cantrip and floated the fireball into her favored hand.
Yutjaa charged back into the fight, handling the longsword with both hands. She strode before the giant Ogre boldly pointing the 3 and a half foot blade at it.
“I promise you a good death monster, but your time,” Yutjaa called, “is Ogre!”
The beast slapped its own forehead disapprovingly. Then it struck out ferociously, knocking Yutjaa’s blade from her hand so that it flew into the wood after Gurdy.
Yutjaa felt a loss as she watched her prized weapon arc into the depths of the woods, perhaps gone forever. Her brother had given her that sword when she was going off to her first march.
She had little time to dwell on it as the Ogre took her by the neckband of her blouse and yanked it down her shoulders. Straps popped, leather snapped, and padded cloth ripped as both Yutjaa’s tunic and leather harness were brutishly rent in half.
The tunic hung in rags from Yutjaa’s waist, her impressive upper body revealed. Besides her strong, solid ax handles, she had a narrow waist with an 8 rack of belly muscle. Yutjaa usually flattened her superb breasts with a sturdy bandeau so that her armor would be more comfortable, but that was destroyed along with her shirt.
Without warning, the beast pinched the hem of her kilt, and with a single rip that spun her fully about, tore the skirt from her waist. Abruptly naked, the Orc made a sharp girlish squeal, in a trice every stitch of clothing had been torn from her.
Ilya had set things in motion and just need to keep focus While the green fire drew its shape from the rune. Though it was not the proper time Ilya noticed that, despite all the lean muscle there was nothing mannish about the Orc woman. Yutjaa had a gorgeous and powerful physique. Now she understood the Shield-Sister’s complaints about human men. What man could possibly handle this beautiful lass?
When the Ogre made to grab her, Yutjaa was able to get a leg up over its thumb. She was caught but easily pulled herself free as the monster lifted the naked Orc towards its mouth.
The flame drifting above Ilyas’s hand was now blue and turning white. The fire pulled power from the rune, causing the mark to fade from her skin as it took its design for itself.
The fearless Orc leaped from the Ogre’s hand onto its head, planting the heel of her foot square on the monstrosity’s wide nose. The beast yowled attempting to swipe at Yutjaa, but she spider crawled onto the Thing’s back so that the punch landed on his own jaw.
At first, she attempted to choke him out but her hands would not meet around his neck. She used her legs instead, managing a weaker clutch than she had hoped for.
The beast moaned its displeasure. If she managed to choke out a full-grown Ogre she would be a legend, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. They needed fire, and they needed fire soon.
Yutjaa pulled hard on the brutes’ ears using them like horse’s stirrups to turn the Ogre to face their secret weapon. Ilya.
“Now knife-ears!” The Shield-Sister called.
“Just another moment,” Ilya said. The rune had almost completely faded from her wrist, and the flame was pulsing with power.
“It has to be enough!” Yutjaa yelled, “This is my best move against it. Throw it!”
The spell was finally cooked, it compacted into a ball of fiery light and floated down into the caster’s palm.
“It’s done!” Ilya screamed gleefully and threw it at the monstrous Ogre.
“Is he dying?” Hurdy Gurdy asked, she strolled back into camp carrying Yutjaa’s sword with an air of deshabille. As though walking around in the blue skin she was born in was the least of her worries. She was more concerned with getting her Mohawk to stand upright.
“Oh shit!” Ilya cried out. Hurdy Gurdy’s sudden reappearance had startled her and she fumbled the ball.
There was a sound of thunder…
…The Ogre lay dead, a new foul stench coming from its body as it, and everything in their camp burned. The white fire had cooled to a natural orange.
Yutjaa was pleased to find Hurdy Gurdy, completely nude, but alive. The blue-skinned woman raised an eyebrow when she saw the naked Orc walking up to her “Wow look at you, Orc’s can get it!”
Yutjaa could not suppress a grin. She was happy to be alive and happier that her oldest friend had survived. She kicked her sword up into her hand and walked back to the Ogre slitting its throat with several bloody overhead swings.
The Orc walked back to Hurdy Gurdy and offered a hand up. “Have you seen yourself lately naked girl?”
“I have boots,” Gurdy wiggled her blue toes, smoke trailed from where the leather continued to incinerate. It didn’t seem to be harming her skin though. “Hey, my boots! I paid 50 gold for those!”
“You shouldn’t bring the gear you can’t afford to lose.” The Orc chastised. “It’s just a thing, and things are Ogre-rated.”
Then with a grin, Yutjaa said. “Where is the Elf?”
“Where we left her.”
“We Won!” Ilya Thumbs swished up to them in her robes, bright purple, and overjoyed. She turned red when she saw the state of her companion’s undress. “Oops.”
“…So Ilya, little Elf, when you said you wrote in some protection for us,” said the Selke Boswell moving to one side of the young evoker “did that include our clothing and gear?”
“Uh.” The cute Forestling forced a smile and started to blend in with the scorched ground at her feet. “I’m so sorry guys! I suppose you’re going to have to walk back to the village in the nude.”
“Well, Thumbs.” Said Yutjaa, calmly positioning herself so that Ilya stood between them to cut off any escape. “One of us certainly will be…”
A shorter story this time. As always I’d love to hear speculation / a wish list of things you’d like to see happen.