Friends For Robots: Short Stories by Wolfmoor Merc Fenn

Author:Wolfmoor, Merc Fenn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Robot Dinosaur Press
Published: 2021-12-20T16:00:00+00:00

THE LOINCLOTH AND THE BROADSWORD

Blockunvir the Bloody crashed through the shop's double doors, his fiery hair streaming like a comet tail behind him, his bronzed skin glistening with sweat. He stomped the dust of travel from his sandals and bellowed, "I seek wine, wenches, and adventure! For by Grimfang's teeth, my blood doth boil within my veins 1 !"

It was nine a.m. Igvore pointed at the sign above the counter, glancing politely up from their logbook. The sign read:

NO GENDER-EXCLUSIVE

LANGUAGE, PLEASE.

Igvore sipped their tea .

Blockunvir hesitated, cleared his throat, and tried again. His gravelly baritone reverberated in the empty shop, since it had just opened. "I seek wine, sexual partners, and adventure!"

Igvore bookmarked their page with a dragon scale and smiled at the new customer, hiding their exasperation. Politeness flustered some barbarians, but it was the principle of good service. Did no one actually pay attention to signage?

"Welcome to The Loincloth and the Broadsword: Barbarian Outfitters. We don't serve wine here."

The great barbarian's brow furrowed. He glanced about. The walls were lined with racks of broadswords, scimitars, claymores, and double-bladed staffs; the pelts of sabertooth cats and direwolves draped benches, and hide-bound shields, spiked helmets, chainmail belts, and other assorted equipment was displayed on wooden stands throughout.

Igvore recognized Blockunvir, of course. He had been named Barbarian of the Year half a dozen times in the last decade, and often his rugged visage graced the celebratory posters handed out by the Barbarian Guild. This was the first time Blockunvir had blazed through Igvore's hometown.

"As for the local brothels," Igvore continued, "you will want to check The Lustful Orbs, down the street at the corner of Argon Lane. "

"Oh." Blockunvir sighed mightily. He turned, too slow to make a dramatic exit, which hinted that he wanted something. He hesitated by the table of drake horn goblets, this week's featured item. A traveling raiding party had exceeded their carrying capacity and sold Igvore the extra drake parts. "I suppose I shall be off…"

Igvore sensed opportunity, and they put on their best how-can-I-help-you-spend-gold face.

"You clearly seek adventure, for which I have plenty of weapons, armor and treasure maps." Igvore leaned forward. "But I sense you crave more than a simple dungeon or a run-of-the-mill monster fight. Tell me, friend, what do you really seek today?"

Blockunvir rubbed his blocky jaw, scarred handsomely by old battles. "'Tis true, my blood has craved more than adventures the gods have bestowed upon me."

Igvore nodded. "Although I don't advertise extensively, I do provide consulting—"

Just then, Thronk, Igvore's assistant, bustled through the deer-hide curtains that separated the storefront from the storage rooms at the back of the shop. Thronk was head and shoulders taller than even Blockunvir, made of pure muscle and sinew, with a shaved head, chiseled jaw, and cheekbones that would make any sculptor swoon with envy. He wore a leather kilt, an artistically shredded silk vest, and spiked vambraces on each of his massive forearms. Tattoos swirled along his flesh, from the crown of his head to his rippling calves and callused feet.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.