A New Type

“Wait… You guys are from Bulgebottom?” Hours seemed to pass before John finally found a chance to ask some of the questions he had been holding on to while he and the Gnome, Kennedy, waited for the nobles to return. The other citizens of what turned out to be a coastal city far off to the east took their time setting up their own tents and private campsites while they waited, though Kennedy tried to make the wait easier on John by regaling him with tales of his own life story. As it turned out, the Gnomes, Dwarves, and Goblins who had come to save John and his people were indeed from Bulgebottom. Like most of the people on the continent, they had heard the victorious cry of the viridian-scaled dragon Favoris and came to investigate, but when they finally arrived and jumped into the fray, most of John’s tribe was already dead. They saved who they could, including John and his slaves, but the majority were already lost or taken. Many times, Kennedy made it a point to express his own heartfelt sorrow for John and tried to share empathy, but when the Gamer tried to move on to ask questions, the little Gnome quickly diverted the conversation back around to talking about something else. He managed to get the small nobleman to send healers out to where Mub was recovering, but he failed to learn about Urga or the whereabouts of the undead army.

“I must admit, I don’t know how you do it.” Kennedy chuckled and idly traced a stubby finger around the rim of his cup. “Roaming out here like savages in the middle of the countryside is… I’ll be frank, it’s killing me. It’s so dry, I feel like I have to drown myself just to stay hydrated.” He paused for a moment to tilt his head curiously to the side, and then practically scowled at the reflection of himself in his cup. “I actually miss the sea,” he muttered and downed the rest of his glass. “Gods, my father would be laughing in his grave right now if he could hear me. ‘The sea’s in our blood, boy!’ Fuckin’ prick. Don’t misunderstand, I’m overjoyed to know that he cared enough to leave me the Harpy, but I’m not much of a sailor. I’m…” he stopped talking as the nude Goblin servant at his side bent forward to pour more wine out for the both of them and Kennedy’s eyes dipped down to the little green butt right in front of him. A faint flush filled his cheeks as the Goblin wiggled in place and got out a third cup to fill for John. Despite how cordial the Gnome was trying to be, John refused to drink. Even if he had wanted to, it felt a little strange holding goblets that were barely larger than shot glasses and sitting in chairs that were meant for creatures half his size. “I’m a collector...” He stopped staring only to grin at John. “... an admirer of… immaculate things. A-”

“A philanderer. A lecher. A reprobate. A rake.” The entrance flap of the tent whipped open sharply as another short, snappy Gnome entered the room. A small woman, only a few inches shy of standing three feet tall, glided across the length of the room, her short black hair glistening in the light like it was still wet from a recent bath, and then stopped at the tiny table that the two of them were seated at. When the Goblin **** moved in to help the new stranger sit at the table, the Gnome woman snapped her fingers and waved her away. She didn’t want help. She didn’t even want to see the Goblin, she made that clear when she continued waving the **** away until she was out of the room. Somehow, the new woman had just as much trouble as John did in sitting in the small wooden chairs. She wasn’t big and tall like he was, nor did she have giant, melon-sized tits like Dofi did. Her hips and her ass were just so big and wide that she had trouble slipping her rear into the gap between the armrests of the seat and settling into the cushion. Her butt was so big and fat for someone of her size that in a chair made for Gnomes, she managed to envelop the top of the seat’s cushion as her ass ballooned out enough until John could see it spilling over the edge of her chair.

She reminded him of a smaller version of Eddie… only Eddie seemed to be more submissive than this Gnome was.

“You wound me, Ms. Lask,” Kennedy whined and mockingly clutched at his chest like he had been shot or stabbed. After a moment of miming his own injuries, however, the little Gnome seemed to remember that John was in the room with them and stopped with a slight blush. A brief look of guilt flashed across the Gnome’s face like he had just realized that the Gamer had been poked full of holes from a bunch of blades just a few hours earlier and then tried his hardest not to meet John’s gaze after that.

“If you do not wish to be judged as a reprobate, then perhaps you should pick your ‘associates’ more wisely… and you should address me as Lady, Sir.” The newcomer, Ms. Lask, didn’t even lift her head to acknowledge Kennedy’s act. His attempt at physically pretending to be wounded was simply ignored while she gave out advice… almost like she felt it was a part of her duty to respond so seriously. The smirk that appeared on Kennedy’s face, however, reminded John of Vanessa or Frank in a strange way. He was **** than the two of them, but he still had the victorious and predatorial look of a man who had just caught his prey in a trap.

“When you say associates, My Lady, I assume you are referring to the company of Goblins I keep nearby?” he asked, and both he and John watched as Ms. Lask nodded slowly. She didn’t need to be a mind reader to see that Kennedy was enjoying the change in conversation, he was grinning from ear to ear after all.

“I am. A man in your station should not blatantly partake in such salacious acts. What’s left of your reputation could be sundered if certain ‘rumors’ got out about the things you do behind closed doors,” she said, and Kennedy simply smiled.

“Anyone in my station would be given a parade in Bulgebottom if certain ‘rumors’ got out about the things I do out in the open.” He grinned, and John watched as Ms. Lask’s brow furrowed. “I’d expect to find even you out in the crowds for my parade.” As soon as he finished that sentence, the woman’s brow dipped as she cast him a hard glare.

“You would not find me there!” she snapped, and Kennedy cocked his head to the side.

“That’s not what I heard. Were you not at Madame Dola’s the last night we were in Bulgebottom?” This time, John got lost in the conversation. The look on his face wasn’t missed by Kennedy who immediately jumped to give him an explanation, but they both tried to keep their attention on Ms. Lask as her facade broke for a moment and her cheeks filled up with color. She quickly began running her hands across the front of her dress to straighten out the fabric, and stammering until Kennedy finished speaking. “Madame Dola’s is one of the local whorehouses in Bulgebottom. It’s on the northern side, and largely occupied by, guess what, Goblins.”

“I-I-I… It is not a whorehouse!” she corrected, and Kennedy lifted his hands placatingly. “It is a nest. One of the many homes where the green-skinned residents of Bulgebottom prefer to reside in.”
“And pilfer their ‘trade’ to certain rakes,” Kennedy added, and Ms. Lask’s cheeks turned scarlet red.

“I was there to see a friend!” she snapped again, and Kennedy raised his hands once more. “Some of us don’t actually shirk our responsibilities to the Kingdom. Somebody has to do the work.”

“From what I hear, the ‘work’ was quite loud and went on for some time too.” Kennedy chuckled, and Ms. Lask raised a fist, her eyes darting nervously back and forth from the other Gnome in the room and John, but Kennedy merely waved it off. “Don’t be embarrassed simply because it’s said in front of him. From what I hear about him, he’s just as bad with some of the Orcs in the tribe. All of his partners have a tendency to scream when with him, apparently.” Those comments were what finally brought John back into the conversation. His own brow furrowed as he locked eyes with Kennedy and watched the Gnome shrink from the hard gaze he gave him.

“What else have you heard about me… and how did you hear it?” he asked… but before Kennedy could answer, the entrance flap to the tent flipped open again, and then again, and again. The other missing members of nobility from Bulgebottom finally began shuffling into the room and taking up the empty seats or placing new ones all around John. Almost all of them were Gnomes. The occasional Dwarf or Goblin sat amongst them, but not enough to take over the majority. Nearly twenty different high-pitched voices appeared before a meeting was officially called to take place, but until Ms. Lask leaned forward to take control of the proceedings, they all tried to talk over each other.

“Restrain yourselves, Lords and Ladies. Our guest has awoken earlier than anticipated, so any hypotheses you have about what happened will not be helped with your continued debate. If you have questions, now is the time to ask them, and then perhaps we can have something to say to-” John didn’t try to be as kind as the other Lords and Ladies seemed to be when Ms. Lask started talking. When she said it was the time to ask questions, he interrupted her so he could start it off with some of his own.

“I’m kind of on a time crunch here. One of my slaves told me you tried to use healers to take care of my wounds. Is it possible to send them to patch up the people in my tribe?” he asked, and as soon as the council seemed to get over the shock of his interruption, Ms. Lask nodded and waved to one of the other nobles in the room. The stranger frowned, but quickly got up and left the tent.

“Hopefully, they will accept our aid this time,” Ms. Lask stated, and John frowned as well.

The Orcs didn’t trust magic. They didn’t have healers administering first aid because the tribe had probably refused the help.

“What did you mean by ‘your tribe?’ How did you come to be in control of it?” Kennedy asked… and John promptly ignored him.

“What happened to the army of the dead?” he asked, and one of the dwarves in the room, a clean-shaven man going by the name Daglen, told him that what was left of the forces at Duskacre had been wiped out by Bulgebottom’s ‘great war machines.’ Again, Kennedy asked his question, and again John ignored it. He didn’t have the patience to sit there and talk with them or play their games of conversation. He had shit to do.

“I also need to know if you guys have seen another Orc. A female, I was told she was alive, but I haven’t seen her yet. She should be completely naked and… has blue hair.” The last part of his description alone was enough for the council to identify the person he was talking about, and one of the Gnomes mentioned that he had taken her in, along with the Elf that they had captured. As soon as John heard that, he got up out of his seat, ignored Kennedy again, and promptly left the tent.