Side Story: Gathering Hay

“He said hay. Where do we find hay?” Beans asks.

“We’ll just hit McGroober’s farm. Lots of hay already bailed, right next to a wagon to put it in and a horse to pull it.” Huny leads with a confident stride, familiar with the area like none of the others were.

“Wait… There’s seriously free hay just waiting to be taken?”

“Well… I mean, I wouldn’t call it free. You have to deal with those two dumb dogs, but they’re trash mobs. We kill the dogs, load the wagon, and leave before they respawn. And even if they respawn, we’ll just kill ‘em again.”

“Aaaaah!” Karen shouts suddenly. “You mean Hank and Aaron! Crazy Benny keeps complaining about monsters killing his guard dogs and stealing his hay! Every time it happens he comes drinking in the tavern.”

“Yeah, it’s probably not monsters. Seriously, what would a monster want with hay? Sometimes we just need some feed for our horses, and sometimes McDunkin or someone else puts out this request for it. Stuff always comes back, so I dunno why he’d whine about it.”

“Uh… You do realize that’s because he harvests more, right? Like, that’s what he spends his day, his entire life doing.”

“Eh. The stuff grows itself, so it’s no big. Maybe he should give out a quest to harvest some for him. Then we’ll harvest it and get some xp, and he’ll get to take a nap.”

A field of hay comes into view, and just beyond it was a large, brown barn. “Just to check,” Beans says as they draw closer, “we’re killing two guard dogs and stealing this person’s hay? And wagon and horse?”

“Yup. That about sums it up,” Huny affirms, equipping one of her daggers.

“No!” Karen objects. “We aren’t stealing! We’ll go talk to him and buy some.” Turning away from the group, she starts toward the farmhouse to their right.

“Wait, for real? Hang on-! Actually, nah, go ahead. Yep. Go see if we can buy twenty… no, sixty bushels of hay. We’ll wait right over here,” Huny tells her, gesturing toward the barn. Karen nods and heads toward the house. Huny leads Louie and Beans to the barn.

“Alright, when I open it the dogs will charge. Beans, try using that knife throw again; Louie can keep using my spare dagger.”

“Huh? I thought we were waiting for Karen?” Louie asks with a confused look.

“Dumbass, of course not. We’re gonna kill the dogs, load up the wagon, and maybe kill the dogs some more. Whenever she figures out asking won’t work, she’ll come back. It’d be dumb to wait until then to do what we’re gonna do anyway.”

Beans already had his loaned knife out and ready. Louie looks at his two companions, then shrugs and readies Huny’s dagger. “These dogs,” he asks as Huny grabs the door, “are they monsters? Or NHCs?”

Huny thinks about that for a second. “Probably neither. They’re like… whatever a tree counts as.” And she throws the door open.

Two mangy dogs lift their heads. One of them immediately receives a thrown knife in the ribs (and Beans briefly celebrates his successful attack), causing it to howl in pain but not stagger. Louie retrieves the knife and hands it to Beans again, just as the hounds charge.

Louie lunges with his large dagger, slashing across the mutt’s face. It doesn’t dodge, it doesn’t block; it takes the slash and falls dead as a doorstop. Louie looks down at it, stunned; he had really been expecting more than that. Not counting his ‘fight’ with Dick and Huny (where his total combat effort had been one thrown knife), this was his first win.

A second knife from Beans puts the other dog down with equal simplicity. Huny walks past them like it was nothing, only pausing to look back when neither of her half-pint companions were following. “What’s the hold-up?” she asks, a little impatient.

“We… That...” Louie tries to voice. Beans says it clearer.

“We got a level.”

Huny’s jaw drops. “You got… a level? From one trash dog?” Both nod. “Just how damn weak are you guys? A fuckin’ newbie hero could kill them both a hundred times and still not have enough experience for level 2.” Beans just shrugs, though Louie looks cowed by the criticism. Huny sighs. “Whatever. C’mon, let’s grab the wagon and load ‘er up. And if two-shoes takes long enough, maybe you can kill the hounds again.”

* * * * * * *

The door opens up to Karen’s knock. Opening it is a gnarl-toothed, wrinkle-faced, crotchety old goat of a farmer, already glaring at whatever might be disturbing him. His expression brightens considerably, though, when he sees it was a pretty, young woman on his doorstep. “Yeah? What can I do for ya, missy?”

“I, um… I was hoping I could buy some hay from you.”

“Hay? Hay, is it? Hm, let me think… Well, for now, c’mon in and sit down. Can I get you a drink?” The farmer turns around and makes toward his kitchen without looking back. Karen stumbles after him anxiously.

“No, thank you. I just want to buy the hay. If I could get sixty bushels, then-”

“Sixty?! Oh my, missy, that’s quite a lot of hay! What could you be wanting it for?”

“It’s for a quest.”

“A quest? Young missy, you’re a hero? Wow, that’s quite the amazing thing you do. Why, I’ve met a number of heroes, even some of the big ones! In fact, I remember when Lady_Love was just starting her career. I was younger back then, mind you! Here, pull up a chair and I’ll grab you that drink. Now, she came out here looking for people she could help...”

Karen, sweet, innocent Karen, never found a good spot to interrupt his story. He hands her a cup of… something sweet but kinda burny, and keeps talking about this or that hero he’d met in the past. Lady_Love, Dominatri, Baby_Boop—it went over her head that he hadn’t mentioned a male hero yet. And every time her cup empties, the old man refills it.

* * * * * * *

Even together, Beans and Louie were hard-pressed to get a hay bale up into the bed. Huny finally gave a “Fuck it,” and told them to drag the bales over to the wagon, and she would load them. That worked a little better, as their small strengths together were enough to slide one along the wood floor of the barn. They had their cart half-loaded when a sudden bark announced the return of the watch-dogs.

“Fight time, boys! Weapons up!”

Louie whips out his innate knife on instinct, just as one of the dogs jumps at him. The canine careens into him, knocking him to his back, but he slashes up into the dog’s throat and kills it before it could bite him.

Beans, on the other hand, finds himself weaponless as the dog leaps at him. He topples backward and the dog lands over him, wasting no time in trying to bite his face off. “HELP HELP HELP!” he cries in alarm, trying to ward off the dog’s attacks with his hands. He pushes it back just enough that when its jaws snap shut it misses the tip of his nose—barely.

“Just grab that knife and stab it!” Huny calls from on the wagon.

Just grab the knife. Just a knife. Beans crosses one arm against the mutt’s throat to keep it back and reaches out blindly with his other hand, desperately trying to grab a knife. His fingers find a hilt and he quickly grips it, then slashes it across the dog’s throat. The beast collapses on top of him, then disappears in a sparkle of lights.

Beans climbs shakily to his feet. “Th-thanks for the knife,” he breathes, looking up at Louie with a nervous smile. His smile twists into a confused frown when he sees Louie’s knife still in the imp’s hands. He looks at his own knife—a small, iron throwing knife just his size. It definitely isn’t one of Huny’s larger daggers. And Louie still has his knife. This is…

“I did it?” he asks in disbelief. He can’t believe it. He throws the knife away, then clenches his fist and looks down. There is his knife. His. His very own. And realization lights up his face, followed immediately by joy. “It’s my knife! Of course I can’t summon Louie’s knife. But this is my knife!” He checks his status and there it is: Knife Throwing.

“Huh. How about that. That get you a level, too?”

“No. I had some experience before for that last one, so...” Louie shakes his head, too.

“Well then, let’s get back to work. Once the wagon is full, we’ll wait and do it again. If that girl takes any longer we’re gonna get you guys to level six.”

* * * * * * *

Much, much later Karen’s head is swimming and her vision is fuzzy. The old coot is still talking about heroes. Probably. Half the time his words are just garbled nonsense. She thinks it’s funny, but it wouldn’t be polite to laugh. But this time, it just keeps going on and on and on. He won’t stop making those strange sounds that don’t match how his blurry mouth is moving at all. She can’t hold it back, and Karen starts giggling uncontrollably.

The man stands up all of a sudden. He starts using real words again, but she only hears a few of them. “...knew you were one like them,” and “...do something fun to…” He’s walking closer. Karen looks into her half-drank cup and giggles again. She looks up just in time to see the man reaching out toward her.

Then a big blast of light and a terrific boom shakes the entire room. Karen tips over backward and just lays there, so she misses most of what happens next.

“Benny McGroober,” calls a small girl hovering in the air before him. She looks to be ten years old at most, with corn-blonde hair and dressed in a pink nightgown. “You’re under damnation for attempting to lay your hands on a minor.”

“WHAT!?” the man cries. “She ain’t no minor! She’s a hero! They’re legal the moment they show!”

“This one was born a hero, and her eighteenth year is not yet complete. Any last words, you sick ****?”

“Wait, wait, wait! Don’t I get a second chance or something? She definitely seduced me here!”

The goddess looks at the obviously drunk girl laying on the floor, her eyes following the floaty lights only she was seeing. Then her glare shoots back at the man. “Twelve years ago, you planned to kidnap a whore’s daughter and ****-feed her the phony potion ‘Miracle-Age’. Six years ago you laid your ****, grabby hands on a young girl’s tender body with intent. Both times you were let off with light punishment and a warning.”

“LIGHT!? You and your damned system burnt my face into THIS!”

“This is your third strike. Benny McGroober, you are hereby damned to be erased and replaced with an upright citizen who won’t be a filthy ****. Goodbye forever.”

In a flash of light, Benny McGroober disappears. The small girl turns around and bends over the still-smiling Karen. She holds out a hand over her mouth. “Spit,” she commands. Karen tries, three or four times, to expectorate with enough **** to reach the small hand, but all the saliva just winds up dribbling down her chin instead. The girl sighs and wipes that up with her hand. “Okay. You should probably take a quick nap.” She snaps her fingers and Karen’s eyes fall shut.

The girl looks down again, briefly. “Poor girl. To have been targeted by this perv three times like that, your fortune is… unique. I won’t be able to protect you after next week; I hope you find happiness out there.”

…

Karen opens her eyes. A tanned girl around her age is looking down at her. The girl has black hair and is wearing a pair of coveralls, a short-sleeved shirt, and a straw hat. “You okay now?” the girl asks down at her.

Karen sits up, blinking a few times as her memory tries to fill in what had happened. She knocked on the old farmer’s door, and he invited her in, but…

“Where’s Mr. Mc-”

“He had to go,” the girl says. “I’m Carrie McGroober. I’ll be handling the farm from now on. What wasitcha wanted?”

“Huh? Um, we needed some hay to-”

“Hay? Yeah, we got hay! Tons of it in the barn out back! Go ahead, grab what you need. Kill the pooches a couple o’ times while yer at it; helps keep ‘em fresh. Take the wagon, too! Just tear it apart or burn it once your done with it, ‘kay? So’s it’ll come back to help the next folk who’ll be needin’ it.”

“W- Really?”

“Sure! I think your friends’ve been at it already, by the sound of it. Better hurry before they get tired o’ waitin’!”

Like that, Karen is rushed out the door by a cheerful teenager who insists she rob her. Unable to frame a counter-argument, Karen lets herself be pushed outside, then staggers to the open door of the barn. Inside she finds Louie and Beans practicing throwing knives into the barn’s wall. There’s no sign of the dogs.

Huny looks over from her perch on the carriage. “About time! Seriously, what took you so long? Even Shelia woulda been back faster, including the time it took her to bed the bastard!”

Watching Huny’s mouth do that funny, blurry thing makes Karen’s head pound. She winces and looks away. “He’s… Mr. McGroober’s gone. His… granddaughter? Carrie says we can take the wagon and hay, just break the wagon apart when we’re done.”

“Yeah, that’s common sense. If you try to keep the wagon, you’d have to bring it back next time you need hay. But I don’t remember Old McGroober havin’ any kids, let alone grandkids. He really gone?”

“I think so?” Karen answers, still unsure herself of what had happened in the house.

“Huh. Good riddance, I suppose. Don’t mean Carrie is related, though; more likely the farm adopted her. Gave her its name and the role here. Wonder how that crotch got out of it.”

“Wait, the farm adopted her?” Beans asks, totally confused.

“Yeah. It’s McGroober farm, right? You can’t have McGroober farm without a McGroober on it. Someone has to be the McGroober. She was probably one of the village girls without a definite role yet.”

Just then Carrie pokes her head into the barn. “That’s me! Brand new McGroober, at yer service! Help yerselves, do the next folk a solid, and don’t be a disgustin’ ****. Simple ‘nough, right?”

Karen winces again, holding her head. Huny gives the girl a funny look, then shrugs it off. “Easy enough. I take it you’re still young?”

“I got a couple o’ weeks left, yeah. Not that I have a lot to worry about, there. Flat as m’washboard, I am! You hero-y types never seem interested.”

“You’ll find a few. Hopefully next month. Anyway! Shorties, you ready to go? We’re done waitin’!”

The two monsters hop up on the wagon and climb to the top of the hay. Huny gives Karen a hand up onto the seat, and they start off.

Just then two loud barks alert them to the return of the hounds. Before Beans or Louie can throw their knives, though, two swift kicks from Carrie put the both of them down once again. Everyone stares at her. “What?” she asks innocently. “They were bein’ rude to my guests. In fact… I might have t’ stick ‘round here for a bit and give ‘em a proper lecture on welcomin’ folk. But you go on, now! Safe trip!”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Huny snaps the reins and they set off with the hay. None of them see, back in the shade of the barn, the newly created girl open up her status window with a mix of surprise and glee, nor do they ever learn how many times she waits for her mob to respawn and ‘gives ‘em a proper lecture.’