FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Ashton," the buxom bombshell pants as she runs almost full tilt down the cobblestone tunnels, "You are thoughtful... creative... the perfect accomplice... I could love no one like I love you... but with that said... we are all going to die... and it is all very much your fault!"

The muscular tiger in tight leather pants and a run encrusted bare chest follows closely behind his lover, his majestic cloak trailing behind him in a line so straight it might be considered a clipping error. "But... the smell was getting so bad... even you were paralysed by it, hon... just a little bit of water magic..."

A growl reverberates from the blood red wolf next to him. Barely wearing anything but leather loincloth and red enameled battle claws, the eight foot werewolf had no trouble running in this sewer tunnels. Giants could invade the city marching two by two and not have to crouch. "The problem is this is a sewer of a magic fantasy city. A city with an archmage, a lich queen, and who knows how many other spells casters. All those magical regents running into the sewers... and you just had to add some magical water where those regents smelled the worst and therefore settled the thickest!"

"You know," commented the wolf priest in the chain mail and robes, both accent by the livery of his god Pastafarius... which mostly meant lots of noodles with a hint of meatballs. "Does anyone else notice that we're all getting introduced with descriptions one by one... and are maybe only eighty percent in character at best..."

The holy paladin canine who was last in line for the group, lumbered along in full plate mail and a tower shield enameled with gold. "Jacob... less talking... more... more..." The paladin stops, dropping to his knees as he pants in near exhaustion.

"Lars," yells the wolf bard. His emerald cape whips around as he turns back to kneel besides his boyfriend, his muscular arms bulging within his tunic as he tries to help the divine bulwark to his feet. The lyre on his back clanks a bit from the effort, reverberating a few off tune cords in foreboding coincidence. "What's wrong? You should be the strongest out of all of us."

As the group comes to a stop, Jacob looks like he's about to say something, but the red wolf cuts him off. "It's the plate mail. Heavy armor has a movement. Doesn't matter how strong he is, Lars is triple timing it while the rest of us are only double timing."

The green caped wolf's brow furrows. "But... Jacob has heavy armor too. Why isn't he having the same problem?"

The red wolf eye rolls, "Chainmail isn't heavy armor, it's medium."

The green caped wolf's eyes narrow, his arms letting go of his boyfriend like a glove has been thrown down. "Care to repeat that."

The red wolf crosses his arms, "Chainmail is medium armor. Because Rhiannon is obviously using a superior representative system."

The green caped wolf grits his teeth. "Oh, I don't know. I think that small things like categorical upgrade systems with late game retraining on the fly is a little bit more of a symbolic system."

The red wolf glares down at the green caped, "Micromanaged reputation system."

The green caped wolf sneers back, "Cheesy pun based tutorial monsters."

"Inventory system that actually cares about weight..."

"...which comes with their own bottomless infinite sized bags of holding."

Um... you know, guys? Rhiannon, the omnipotent narrator interjects I kind of just homebrewed something together to allow you guys to quickly adapt to the world so we could get to the...

"You stay out of this," both wolves shout at the sky before returning their red hot contemptuous gazes towards each other. They then continue shouting back and forth terms at each other, with it pretty soon being apparent that they are no longer even arguing about the situation at hand.

Lars looks on with concern at the argument going on between his boyfriend and ex boyfriend as he polishes off a bowl of ethereal noodle chicken shop. Handing the bowl back to Jacob, who himself just throws it over his shoulder with a loud clang, the paladin asks priest, "Do you have any idea what is going on?"

"Hmm," Jackob hmms as he taps his chin with his finger, "Redundant much?" ... "..." ... "...anyway. I think we're looking at the classic form of gamer rage known as edition elitism. Basically two radically different games that just happen to share the same branding because designers really want people to buy more core rule books, and the division ends up splitting the player base. Also, they are still being referred to as adjective nouns. Hey, Mary," Jacob hollers as he waves down the blond bombshell. "Could you make sure to call these two nerds by name when you inexorably break up the argument with veiled threats against their manhood?"

Mary, grumbling something about 'veiled threat', all but stomps over to the two arguing muscle nerds. Stepping in between them she draws her daggers and pokes them into each of their respective crouch regions, stopping just at the point where no irreparable hard is done. "Ben," she addresses the red wolf whose eyes have just gotten as big as gobstoppers, "Caleb," she turns towards green caped wolf who was currently sweating bullets, "If you boys decide to continue this cock fight, you're going to have to do so with each other's dick; first one to impale the competitor with their own severed manhood wins. So... do either of you wish to continue?"

The silence in the room is palpable. In fact the first one to speak up is...

So, is this supposed to be a player created minigame? Because if you put on a good enough show I think I can look into rewarding some experience.

With as much grace as possible Mary withdraws both her daggers and sheaths them, leaving the boys to deal with any resulting wardrobe malfunctions they may have caused. Which honestly is about time the boys started having some problems, Mary's leather ensemble has been subjected to more strategically placed slashes that the only reason her armor had a higher armor class than her boyfriend is because she wore less better than him.

Coughing, said boyfriend addresses Caleb and Ben with a quick aside, "Just out of curiosity... just what game did you guys play together if you can't decide on a Dungeon and Dragon edition?"

The two wolve pull themselves away from trying to adjust their garments to look at Ashton, back at each other, and then back at the tiger again before responding, "Supermegatopia 3.8."

"Oh, oh, second question," The tiger chirps up with an innocent energy that belies the fact that he's several feet of bare chested rune encrusted muscle. "Since you two are the only nerds in our group, who in the world did you play with and do you still have their numbers so we can drag them into our zany yet also increasingly melodramatic adventures?"

Both Ben and Caleb open their mouths as if to answer that question, but then quickly shut their jaws in a clenched grimace as their brains quickly process every word that was coming out of Ashton's mouth. The tiger, of course, just continues looking at them like a kid eager for candy... which in some ways he was. Mary was right, he is the best accomplice.

Thankfully the two increasingly sheepish looking muscle wolves are saved by the shepherd of the pack. "I take offense to that remark," Jackob starts off, "But more importantly, we do have the matter of what we've been running for our lives from for the past... hour, hour and a half?"

Lars looks behind the huge sprawling cobblestone tunnel behind them, the small entrance leading into this colossal byway just a speck in the distance. "Are we certain it's still following us? If we've really been running for that long then surely it's decided to eat something else... like those half a dozen other encounters we ran by while screaming for our lives."

As if on cue, "It's not as if on cue, it's literally on cue," Jacob shouts, interrupting the narration.

Guilty as charged. Anyway...

Right on cue, a tidal wave of green liquid marbled with red bursts out of the entry to the cobblestone corridor. The liquid quickly fills the entire horizon as it gelatinizes to fill the new space. And by space we mean the twenty foot radius of the cobblestone tunnel.

"First thing," Jacob begins as the entire party starts backpedaling from the ever encroaching mass, "I just have to say that this might be the most impractically built sewer system I have ever seen. Second..." he adds with a small gulp, "I think it's safe to say that our mint and cherry flavored friend ate everything we ran by."

"Think it absorbed their experience," Benjamin idly wonders aloud as he stares up at what is probably going to end of this short lived campaign.

"We'd actually need to come up with a way to kill it first," gulps Caleb as he grabs his lute and hesitantly strums a few off key notes. "We've already tried fire... do you think sonic attacks would work."

Mace still in hand, Jacob bobs his two paws up in down in front of him as if weighing the odds. "Depends, do you really think even your singing is bad enough to get Rhianna to fold before the thing eats us?"

Ashton, pointing his staff at the creature for all the good it did him last time, stammers, "Well what choice do we have at this point. It's not like we didn't already know Caleb's bad signing was going to be our dues ex machina in this campaign!"

"Hey boys!" The entire group of men look behind them, realizing that when the thief of the group stalked off she wasn't just sulking but was instead doing what thieves should do and scouting ahead. And that's where she was, several yards ahead of the group, in a tunnel slightly raised from the ground with glory of all glory a sealable metal door. "Stop monloging and get your tails up here."

Only wasting maybe three point two seconds to do a double take back to each other, the group makes a made sprint for safety. Benjamin easily scales the wall without the ladder which Jacob takes first advantage of. Lars meanwhile hefts Caleb up through sheer might before following Jacob up the ladder.

The party doesn't have much time, as the gelatinous ooze appears to sense that a source of food is moving faster and therefore getting away. Thankfully Ben hefts his ex up by the collar of his armor and tosses him into the tunnel, quickly closing the passage behind them. The entire group waits in the dark... oh, no, wait. Scratch that. This tunnel is just as well light as all the other ones they ran through.

"You know, logistically," Jacocb comments as he looks the smaller nine foot passage, "everything down here should have suffocated due to all the lit torches just lying around."

Oh hush. It was either that or fumigate the entire sewer system for grue. Darn freeloaders.

In any case, the entire party waits in the well lit corridor that coincidentally still has high enough ceilings that the tallest member of the party doesn't need to crouch, "Seriously, who build this sewer," shut up Jacob. As we were saying, the party waits, hoping against hope the ancient metal door was air tight enough that the ooze would not be able to make it through.

Their hopes were in vain.

"Oh... come... on," Ben howls as mint and cherry jelly slowly seeps through the cracks in the door. "What is the point of having an obvious escape route from an overpowering enemy, only to have it be completely ineffective."

I think you should know by now that it's your suffering that sustains me.

"OK," says Lars, the armored encrusted paladin with just a hint of panic in his voice, "we have to stop this thing from following us, or we're just going to be running to the edge of the city just to watch trouble town be engulfed in a Christmas jello."

Jacob thoughtfully tapped his chin, "You know, we've mostly been using our abilities either offensively or defensively. We haven't really tried for support."

Caleb throws his hands up into the air, "What support? I can't sing, Mary didn't choose Subterfuge, and it's not undead so you and Lars can't heal the thing to death. And Ashton..." The spoony bard stops as an idea all but literally hits him on the head. "Ashton, freeze the door."

The tiger, for all his power tripping, looks hesitant. "But we already know that magic doesn't affect it."

Mary just nods as she pushes his boyfriend to the front of the party facing the ever growing puddle on the ground. "No, Caleb's right. Magic doesn't affect the ooze, but it can have an effect on the door."

"But," the tiger begins, only to be cut off as his curvaceous drop dead bombshell of a girlfriend leans up and kisses him on the lips. The deep unbridle love between these two ignite a flame within the tiger as he pulls his love close, hands running up and down her slashed catsuit, threatening peal the thing off. Sensually she returns the gesture as she runs down his his lats to the hem of his pants, slowly slipping his fingers down his adonis belt too...

"It was a maybe a three second peck on the cheek, Rhianna," Jacob interrupts. At this point the dungeon master realizes she was narrating at a pitch deep and rich enough that everyone could hear her. Most of the boys looked a little bit awkward, while Mary had her hands on her hips akimbo, eyes pointed at the ceiling in a glare that could shoot daggers.

Well... excuse me for having an imagination. As you were.

Ashton plays with the collar of his cape as he takes a few breaths, wondering briefly if maybe they could find an inn somewhere during the mid point of this little adventure. The gods were always watching anyway, after all. Cracking his knuckles, the tiger raises his staff and points it directly at the center of the door. A chill falls over the room as streams of blue light start to encircle the staff, coming to a head at it's very tip. With one, mighty bellow the wizard shouts "Siberian permafrost," unleashing the might of the deepest cold he can imagine directly at the door.

Needless to say, it worked. The door frozen over, no more than a the small little puddle of jello sitting frost bitten on the floor will be able to follow you. Though, strangely, the ooze doesn't appear to be present anymore. One could only wonder where it could have gotten...

"That could have been thought out a bit better," Ben says through chattering teeth. Ah, yes. Well the ice cold rebounding off the door and bouncing down the hall would be within the margin of error. Using magic to do stuff other than make people go boom isn't an exact science in a role playing game, after all.

"Right," Jacob says as he wraps robe tighter around him, "I'm going to go with ooze secretly reacting well to ice magic, consuming all the magical regents composing it's form to amplify the spell." The priest looks up and down the party shivering in the hall. "As things goes, it might have been better to have discovered that when the creature was first made, but also probally a good thing we didn't try it on the monstrosity on the other side of that door."

Ashton doesn't appear to process any of this as he just wraps his cloak tighter around his massive shoulders. Nothing resembling words escape his mouth, though mutterings might be interpreted as 'cold nipples' to those listening closely.

Of course, of the entire team, the werewolf was least prepared. "I'm not equipped for this," the were wolf whines. "All this fur clothing, and NONE of it manages to cover more than my tenth of my body."

"Oh, come one Ben," chuckles Caleb even with his shivering, "Aren't big hulking barbarians supposed to stride fearlessly through the cold with next to nothing on?"

The werewolf growls and stomps forward towards his best friend. "That's only when we are bathed in the blood of our recent slaughter, the sent of the ichor driving our blood lust to burn," the barbarian glances down at the spoony bard. "Are you volunteering a donation?"

Before the frost bite can eat away anymore at the already short tempers the one and a half hours of running had worn down, Jacob speaks up. "Or, you know, we could just go a little further down the tunnel and see where the frost stops. It can't go on forever."

And with that, the party starts to trudge forward through the cold. When the reach a bend in the cobblestone passage, Jacobs assurances ring hollow as the tunnel does appear to go on into the horizon as nothing more than solid ice. Thankfully, a little red on the horizon slowly approaching the group grabs everyone's attention.

"Oh no," exclaims Lars though chittering armor, "It circles around and now it's got us trapped."

"I'm not so sure," says Mary as she huddles her arms close to her side, "I don't see any green. It's probably something else."

"But what if it is," Caleb chatters through his teeth as the red object gets closer and closer, "Ashton should just cast an ice spell from here to play it safe."

"No," hollers Benjamin as he bear hugs the mage, "If the ice magic reacts the same way as before we'll transform Troubletown into a frozen tundra from the sewers up and I'll never be warm again!"

The entire group pauses to let Ashton say his piece, only to be met with silence. As a whole the group looks towards the tiger being held in the eight foot tall mass of fur and muscle see that the tiger is stretching his arms to hug the werewolf back. Eyes closed and head buried red wolf's chest fur, the only words escaping his lips is a muttered 'warm'.

As the red object hurtles closer and closer, the entire group can only stare as the two most naked men in the group huddle together for warmth. A very muttered 'awkward' escapes Lar's lips, but surprisingly he's shut up rather quickly by an elbow to the armored plated ribs from Mary.

Eventually, though, Jacob is the voice of reason. "Guys, relax." Everyone but Ashton turns towards the priest. The wolf taps his ears, "I hear sleighbells. This is going to be cheesy as a nutlog, but it should be just as harmless."

The entire group, but Ashton, turn around to watch the ever enlarging red object in the distance. Pretty soon, even Mary's human ears can pick up the sound of sleigh bells, and a little bit longer the rectangular form of the front of a red sleigh can be seen. Eventually, as the group waits for whatever this is to arrive, Caleb speaks up, "So you mean it's going to to taste horrible and be complete murder on our thighs?"

One by one, the entire group look towards Caleb, even Ashton... and then... they laugh. Just completely, honest, full belly laughing. The tension of the past two hours just completely slips out of them. Whatever this is, they are going to be facing it in high spirits. Which is good. It's rarely a bad idea to be cross when coming face to face with Santa Claus.

Wait... what?

The moment of disbelief from their supposedly omnipotent dungeon master catches the group off guard, ceasing their merriment. "Wait... so you're not planning this," asks Jacob.

I assure you mister Reaper. I would not intentionally ruin my Halloween with a dash of... Christmas. That requires a whole different set of bombs and sirens...

Before anyone can react to this revelation, the sleigh arrives. At the head of the sleigh is a reindeer with full antlers with nothing on but a bell harness and a thong. Sitting on top the sleigh, meanwhile, is a jolly old man in a red suit... or at least a red suit with a beard and goggles where the face should be.

Hopping off the sleigh, the 'Santa' gives is probably intended to be a bellowing "Ho ho ho" but is cut off when the 'Santa' slips and falls on the ice. He quickly makes a recovery, though, and manages to deliver a somewhat shaken "Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, adventurers," before his feat almost slide out from under him again, though he manages to stay standing by holding onto the sleigh for dear life.

The entire team just stares at the scene for an extended moment. "Right..." says Ashton, "So do we loot him now, or wait until he does something suspicious?"

The 'Santa' appears a bit shocked by this, but tries his best to recover. "Ho ho ho. You wouldn't want to do anything naughty, now. After all, all adventurers are on the nice lift by default."

"Really," says Marry with her arms akimbo on her hips again. Lifting one arm up, she hocks a thumb towards Ben. "Even him?" To help sell the scene, the red werewolf barbarian of murder smiles wide and waves his fingers.

The 'Santa' is silent for a long moment, and when he speaks up again he forgets to put his voice down in a hearty bellow, instead answering in a low nasally tenor, "Um... yes?"

Benjamin just smiles even wider, "Dibs on the suit."

"Hey, wait a minute," hollers Caleb as he puts himself between the 'Santa' and the rest of the adventuring party. "He might not be the actual Santa, or a registered false Santa with license and credentials, but can we at least assume that some stranger dressed as the spirit of Christmas didn't come down here to the dark depths of sewers intending us harm?"

The group mull over Caleb's speech for a moment. Eventually, Jacob speaks up. "OK, put it to a vote. Who wants to commit highway robbery against the probable serial rapist?" Everyone but Caleb and Lars raise their hands.

Five minutes laters 'Santa' is tied up and stripped of his suit, revealing himself to be a brown furred rat who had his tail down one of the pants legs. He's currently left wearing boxers and a thin white t-shirt, along with goggles and fake beard, because why reveal someone's identity while the audience isn't looking. He also, of course, has his hands tied behind his back.

Mary is currently sitting on one of the many cushions the rat had padding his already plump form to Chris Kringle levels of jolly. She has a bemused look on her face as she looks on towards Ashton, who is wearing the rat's oversized winter boots, sliding along the frozen cobblestones like he was ice skating, "These things have no traction what so ever..."

Benjamin, meanwhile, is enjoying his prize of red imitation fur felt jacket. It's a bit too snug on him, even with all the cushions the rat was stuffing them with. Still, it keeps him warm. Pants were a complete loss, though, but there was no way he was going to let the rat keep them. Principle of highway robbery.

Finally Lars was off to the side, trying to comfort a sulking Caleb. "We are so going to the bottom of the waiting line to be Santa if word of this gets out." The large armored puppy looks a little helpless over the situation... and honestly, the fact Lars was wearing the red stocking hat wasn't helping.

"OK then," Jacob says as he walks up to the strip searched rat, "Now that the time skip is over, let's see just who would have got away with it if not for us meddling kids." Reaching down, priest ceremoniously removes the beard and goggles revealing... still just a brown rat. Jacob staggers back for a moment, then blinked before looking around at the muted expressions of the rest of the group. "...right, this probably would have garnered more of a reaction if any of your read the comments."

There is a brief moment of extended silence. "So who is he," Benjamin speaks up.

Sighing, the rat answers the question himself. "I'm the worst fear of creative individuals everywhere."

This causes everyone but Jacob to stagger back from the rat, "You're the test tube child of Gordon Ramsay and Ryan Seacrest, finally escaped from the deep space prison in which you were frozen," Ashton just barely manages to spit out before he slips and falls on his tail.

The rat blinks at this and face faults, "What? No!" The rat looks at Jacob questioningly. "Seriously, is that really a thing?"

The priest shrugs and leans against the sleigh. "I don't know. You tell me, you're the writer." This garners a double take from the rest of the party, including the supposedly omnipotent dungeon master.

OK, seriously, he's the what now? I thought you where the illustrious Writer of Reality.

The rat eye rolls, "It's a title, not his day job." The rat takes a moment to stretch his arms behind him, then very slowly and carefully lifts them over his head so that the can rest in his lap. One or two people winces when the rat dislocates his shoulders during the entire action, the rat included. "Also, I'm not actually the writer. I'm just a being that's in tune with the personified characterization the writer displays to others of a similar disposition on the internet. ...also he isn't so much THE writer as he is the CURRENT writer. Really kind of a twisted web here."

The entire group but Jacob just kinds of blinks at these statements, they aren't used to anyone but Jacob and a drunk Ashton breaking the fourth wall like this. As such, it only takes a few moments for everyone to look towards the priest expectant of an explantation. Jacob sighs and raise his fingers to the bridge of his muzzles, "We're currently in a self insert Christmas fanfiction. Thankfully one where the writer doesn't mind self depreciating himself, though we do only appear to be about, oh, sixty percent in character."

The rat glares at that last comment, "It's a rush job. He only got the idea on the nineteenth and he's rushing to try and get this written before the actual writer posts his own Christmas special. So if we could rush things along a little bit..."

The priest closes his eyes as he continues to pinch the bridge of his muzzle. "This is going to have so many typos," he mutters before clapping his hand and coming to full attention. "OK. I think we can officially classify him as 'mostly harmless'. So, everyone, I'd like you to meet..." The wolf pauses and leans in close to the rat before whispering, "Are we really comfortable having two Benjamins in the narrative."

The rat hmms before leaning forward and whispering back, "Just run with the fugitive gag."

Jacob gives the rat a nod and a thumbs up before continuing, "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Fugitive 83N."

Everyone blinks once or twice at this, but it's Lars who first speaks up first. "So... wait... Fugitive Eight Three Ene... what is he the fugitive for?"

Jacob eye rolls, "Mostly barging through other people's realities without asking permission." He glances over at 83N and glares slightly, "Also some... dietary issues I might want to discuss with him if I ever get a chance to tie him down in private."

83N puts up an exaggerated act of being hurt, though if it's just an act this audience will never know. "I have those 'dietary issues' well under control these days, thank you very much. No reason for a No One to go butting in." The corner of his lip turns up slightly as he adds, "Though I will admit that if it wasn't for the fact your powers were currently under such heavy lock and key, I wouldn't even risk having this encounter." The rat capstones this statement by sticking the tip of his tongue out at the NoOne.

This goes on for a little bit, with 83N and Jacob exchaging facial expressions back and forth as if having some sort of secret conversation is being had. Eventually, the all powerful dungeon master speaks up.

OK. So he's a multidimensional vagabond slash foodie. What is he doing here?

"To give out presents," exclaims 83N, with just a hint of exasperation.

...seriously?

The rat sighs, "Listen, I know it might be perpetually Halloween for you, but in the world in which this story is being written... it's been a few months. Time passed, and one of the readers of your story thought it would be fun to write a Christmas spin off and get it out there to be read by others before the actual writer of your story could get his own Christmas special out." The 83N looks at his bound wrists and holds them out to Mary expectantly. "Now if we can really hurry this up, it's currently the twenty first and he feels like we're on borrowed time to get through everyone so I can make my exit."

Mary taking out her daggers, looks on more time at Jacob for approval. After the wolf give a reassuring nod, the thief slashes the rat's bonds.

83N wastes no time grabbing his sack from the sleigh and looking around. "OK... Ashton first." The rat rushes over to the tiger who is currently trying to remove the faulty winter wear boots. Reaching the red sac, the 83N pulls out... a hip flask. "One unlimited supply of peppermint schnapps. Because Jacob is stealing WAY too much of the breaking of the fourth wall in this story, and if you haven't been able to tell from my mannerisms me and my writer are a big fan of that kind of dead horse."

The gingerly takes the flask with a small delighted oh on his lips. Before he can open the thing and shoot one done, however, Mary is instantly at his side, whipping the flask away. Opening the flash, she pours out it's contends tossing the empty receptacle in the corner. "Right. Next?"

83N gives the somewhat deflated Ashton a reassuring wink before reaching into the sack and presenting Mary with... small scepter enameled with pink and gold. "One magic makeup disguise want, hacked to only be able to change you to designated 'thief' gear. Because you can't really have a wardrobe malfunction unless you are properly dressed to begin with. Just..."

Before the rat can say anything else, Mary all but rips the wand out of his hand, holds it up, pressing the trigger. In a flash of light her currently clothing all but explodes off of her, leaving the blond bombshell completely naked in that strange PG body made of glowing light sort of way.

Averting his eyes, 83N leaves Ashton and Ben to watch the transformation sequence and instead stands with the more... gay crowd. "I was going to warn her that it's hacked magical girl technology and she should only use it in private when she had a minute or two to kill for the transformation sequence."

Caleb pats the rat on the shoulder, "Knowing Mary, she probably read your mind and grabbed the thing to keep you from ruining the surprise. Also, she is so going to kill Rhianna is she doesn't get to keep that outside of this adventure."

"Well this entire encounter might not be canon, so it is probably a moot point," Jacob chimes in. Clapping a hand on 83N's shoulder, "So since we now have this side story on nitros, what's next Mister Santa."

83N grumbles slightly, mumbling something about 'having enough time for padding if there wasn't a deadline'. Slight case of miffed attitude aside, that doesn't stop him from reaching into his bag and pulling out... a white plastic guitar with several bright colorful buttons where the strings should be along the bridge where the strings should be. "For Caleb..." the rat begins.

Thank you! Sweet merciful Shin-Lazar thank you!

Everyone in the group is silent for a moment before the rat coughs and continues, "For Caleb. Because holding your terrible signing over Rhiannon's head is only going to work so many times before she snaps and turns you into a mute with two hooks for hands."

Caleb somewhat dejectedly takes the plastic guitar and presses one of the buttons. The toy instrument instantly starts playing a few weak cords with a pansy little voice going 'falalalaalalalaa' over and over again. "...seriously, even I can sing better than this thing."

No. No you can't. Now take the thing and be grateful or you'll be finishing this game as a double hooked pirate.

The bard gulps once and look at the others expectantly for someone to speak up in his defence. Suddenly, without warning, the plastic guitar belts out "Call for us! The power in all of us!"

On that cue, 83N wastes no time ripping the guitar from Caleb's hands and hitting it hard against the nearby cobblestone wall. Guitar now silent, the rat hands the present back to the wolf. "Sorry about that. It might have a small itty bitty infection of Dragonforce in there. Thankfully it's been reinforced to also act as a bludgeoning weapon, so one quick whack should get it back in working order."

With Caleb now looking at his gift in a whole new light, the rat turns to the Writer of Reality. Jacob holds up his hands in defence, "Hey, just remember. Any monkey pawed gifts you give to me, I'll take out of your hide whenever I eventually get my hands on you in an 'official' capacity."

"You'll have to catch me first, Mister Writer," The rat says with a confident smirk. Reaching into his bag, he presents to Jacob... a camera lenses. Which, very suddenly, sprouts dragonfly wings and starts hovering around the wolf insistently.

Jacob, for as large and as powerful as he is, looks at the camera lense flying around him like it might just start shooting lasers. "So... what is it? My very own far sighted Navi?"

"It's a camera, Mister Reaper," says 83N with a devilish grin. "So that you can record all our little sexapades in high definition for your beloved EX. And so that the writer doesn't need to hold back on having those little trists from happening in the first place."

Ashton, having finished watching his girlfriend's transformation, slaps the slightly miffed Jacob on the back as he takes a swig from his hip flask. "I'll drink to that." Just as quickly, Marry is by his side, ripping the flask away, emptying it, and tossing it in the same corner she tossed it before. As such, the new hip flask clatters next to the old one.

Everyone pauses for a moment before looking directly at 83N who just shrugs. "I said I gave him an infinite supply. I never said that supply came in the form of a bottomless hip flask." He redirects everyone's attention to the tiger who is already holding a third hip flask and chugging it down.

As Mary literally tackles her boyfriend, Benjamin whistles. "Sweet. Glitched inventory. We are going to make so much monkey once we find a bar to off load a few cases." With that the big werewolf turns his attention to the gift giving rat. "So, what did you get me? Must be good considering we're both..."

83N puts a finger quickly to Ben's mouth. Then, rather than reaching into the sack, he reaches into the red felt jacket Benjamin stole from him and pulls out a vial. "This," the rat says recently as he holds up the swirling solution in front of the werewolf's eyes, "Is concentrated wererat essence. For you do with whatever you want. Give it to Mary so you can have a full team of fur while she and Ashton have some cat and mouse role reversal. Give it to the Rat King so you can trigger a hard mode encounter for extra experience. Or, you know, take it yourself because every Benjamin deserves a little rat in them."

The rat says that line with a bit of a dreamy look on his face, only to snap to attention when he realizes that everyone is staring at him. And we do mean everyone. Coughing, 83N straightens his shirt as he says, "And since I'm far too much of a prude to follow up on that inuendo, you're just going to need to chug that baby down if you want to know what it feels like."

Off in the corner, Jacob snickers. Ignoring him, Benjamin says, "I'm flattered... really... but I'm already a werewolf. Really like being one, too. But even if I wanted to change, I'm pretty certain this stuff wouldn't work on me."

Benjamin makes a move as if to hand back the vial, but 83N steps back and crosses his arms. "Sir, that vial contains 869 different variations of the wererat pathogen. I assure you, statistically at least one of them will be able to overwrite and or interact with current blessing in a positive manner."

Still trying to regain his composure, Jacob quips up. "Sure. Impressive number. How many of those are just cum, though?"

83N scratches the back of his head. "...less than you might think, but more than an orgy." Doing a double take at this information, Benjamin sniffs the vial in his hand once or twice and then very carefully puts it into his infinite space backpack. What he will one day do with it, the world may never know.

"Anyway," 83N claps his hands as he turns towards his last adventurer. Lars does look a little apprehensive. After all, it has been a bit of hit or miss between good gifts and monkey paws, but none of them have been intentionally bad... just flaws.

"For the big paladin in shining armor," the rat announces with a degree of reverence as he reaches into the red bag... and pulls out a sheathed longsword. "I grant to you one Epic Longsword of Extra Merriment."

Lars holds the sword with bit of wonderment as he turns it over in his hands, and entire hush falling over the party. Looking at the sparkling white sheath and hilt, he just has to ask. "What does it do?"

"I have no idea," 83N states bluntly, absolutely ruining the moment.

"Oh, come one now..." Benjamin gripes. "Why does mister goody two shoes gets the weapon of epic leatness?" He pauses, patting his jackets suddenly as he says, "Not that I'm complaining about my own gift but..."

Actually, I'm going to have to side with Benjamin on this one. Giving a bunch of ascetic and gag gifts is one thing. Game breaking weapons of ultimate power...

"Oh will you both calm your horses," 83N pipes in. "It dissolves in water. We should be safe from it breaking the game."

Lars shoots 83N a questioning look, but then looks back to the blade and finally draws it from its sheath. Inside it's revealed to be three and a half feet of sharp and hard... candy cane. Holding the oversized peppermint air before him majestically, he makes the statement. "If we're allowed to keep our memories of this event, you are officially getting nicknamed Willy Wonka."

Clapping his hands, 83N tosses his red sack back into the sleigh, "OK, and with that done, I have to get out of here. Got other people to annoy, places to blow up, and this story still might be posted before the actual writer gets to posting his own Christmas special if we hurry these last few paragraphs along." With little prompt or fanfare, the rat jumps into the seat of the sleigh, cracks the whip and... "...where's Prancer?"

The entire group looks about for the missing reindeer... well almost the entire group. Benjamin belches once and out comes a harness with bells on it. After staring at the jingle bells for longer than necessary, Caleb eventually speaks up "Dude, seriously?"

"What?" Benjamin says, more embarrassed from the bodily function than the act of outright eating a guy. "It's already established I'm a villain and a werewolf. What makes you think I could resist a side of venison like that?"

83N places a hands to his temples as he says, "Normally when someone want to taste the venison like that in one of these stories it's with a bit more innuendo, but whatever. If I can't ride off into the sunset I'll just fade to black." And so with a snap of his fingers... a snap of his fingers... I said snap of his fingers...

83N quickly progresses from casually snapping his fingers to sounding like he's trying to start a pilot light, but all to no effect. Most of the group just looks up in confusion, but it's rather telling that Jacob looks a bit worried. The maniacal laughter doesn't help much.

Hahahaha HaHaHaHa MHAHAHAHA!

83N eventually just screams in frustration. "Really Rhiannon? This entire scenario might not even be cannon and we're still going down this road?" As the laughter just continues, the rat outright pulls at his own hair, "You probably don't even like this little bit of Christmas clogging up your Halloween fun. Why can't you just let me go?"

With that, the laughter stops. Though not the mirth.

Oh, but just because I want to celebrate Halloween doesn't mean I don't want any present. And since you didn't bring me anything, I'm going to take one of my own. You.

The laughter picks up again, eventually fading to all but to those with very sensitive hearing never quite going away entirely. Eventually, once he's through physically venting his anxiety of the situation, 83N just collapses onto the seat of the sleigh.

Eventually, though, a voice of reason speaks up. "Hey," 83N looks up to find that Caleb has approached the sleigh with a hand extended. "Looks like you could use an escort quest out of here. Certainly better than plugging it out of here. That is, if you're interested?"

The rat look at the extended paw for a long moment before smiling and taking it. "Thank you Mister Hale." Caleb makes to help the rat off the sleigh, but the rat instead pulls the wolf up onto the sleigh ever so briefly to give him a full hug... and then pushes him off with surprising strength. "But no... I'm not folding that easily." Without even waiting for another word, 83N jabs his right hand straight in front of him and with the cracking of glass punches a black hole straight through reality.

"Ben," Jacok calls warningly, causing a glance from the resident werewolf before he realizes he was talking to the rat.

"Don't even try, Reaper," 83N replies with a grunt as he sticks both hands into the hole he just make, pushing up and down to widen the hole he just made. "You're handicapping yourself to comply with the bastards who asked for your help and then insisted on kneecapping you on your way through the door. More power to you for that." Another grunt as he forces the hole just a little bit wider. "But those are your restrictions. I have my own to worry about."

He pauses for breath before pushing one more time, getting the hole to just about as big as his torso. Most the group just looks on in shock; when this rat showed up dressed as Santa Claus, this was not what they were expecting. Jacob is the only one who seems more solemn than surprised, none more so than when 83N looks around the hole in reality he's created to look the NoOne in the eye. "Oh wipe that look off your face. This isn't because you're here. I came here for a quick in, drop off some present, and then out. If I can still find a way to do that without hurting anyone, I'm taking it."

And with that, Fugative 83N lifts one leg high and starts to step through the window he's...

Suckerpunch!

Suddenly an enormous wolf paw punches reality from the other side of the hole and grabs the rat. The action crushes the sleigh, and any heroes who hadn't backed away from the black hole in reality being torn open are now forced back from the explosion of wood shrapnel.

Well, I see someone is going to need a time out. Oh wipe that look off your face, Reaper. You know I won't hurt him... much.

And with that, the giant wolf paw reacts through the hole, dragging the rat with them. Jacob is first among the heroes to rush towards the closing hole in reality, but even he's too late as rupture seals completely with the sound of glass shards dropping back into place.

Panting slightly, Jacob looks around at the rest of the party. "Guy... we now officially have a problem.