A Dwarf and an Orc Enter a Brothel

After an afternoon of pseudo-cannibalism, the two went off in the same direction once again. The orc did not find the motivation to lose him in a chase, not while he was digesting.

Their new course had them heading south, far off the track that the goddess preferred they go, but it was a more comfortable hike as they traveled around the base of the mountain. Still, the sun was hot, and the amount of forest shade was limited. Dige had never experienced as much sun in his lifetime, but he persisted.

“Those orcs back there,” he said, hoping to strike up a conversation. “They were different from the ones I knew back in my own world.”

Mars said nothing.

“The orcs in my world, oh, they were ugly. No muscle on them. They loved the dark like we dwarves do, and forged rusty, shite weapons to raid human towns at night. They were worse than the worst dwarves, but we could handle them. Did you have any dwarves in your world?”

“Yes, many dwarves,” Mars replied. “They were everywhere. I could only kill so many.”

“Haha, we’re in the same boat, aren’t we?” Is that what he imagines when he sees him?

Toward the evening, the men came across a fork marked by a signpost between them. Given the smoke and tents visible in the distance, it seemed like this was their welcome sign, a nudge to move toward Fargo. At least, they couldn't be fooled into traveling another 50 kilometers elsewhere.

“Hmmm, a travel inn,” Mars said. “Finally, I can get the one thing all orcs need.”

Dige gave a thumbs up. “Ah, so ye like ale too?”

“No, sex.”

“Sex!?”

The orc pointed at the description to the right. “The inn contains a brothel, which means I can take a couple of girls to bed with me. Hmmm, maybe three girls are needed.”

Why would he need three? Dige asked himself. That is a lot of wasted money. “Well, no time to waste then!”

Luckily, the stop was more than just the brothel. It was a central trading hub that linked Dreams with the southern coastal city of Yore and the gated city of Fargo situated in the central mountain range. The two were met with horses, wagons, and a few traders on the march, though their priorities rested more on travel than relaxation. They mainly stayed in their tents, which were large and offered additional lodgings for anyone who refused to pay the higher inn booking. The two refused, or rather, were refused, by these traders, so they left them be and approached the real center of attention.

The inn itself was a tall, wooden lodge, the only one for miles in every direction. Its size could hold up to twelve bedrooms on the upper floors and a bar on the first. It sported a porch for outdoor deals, and its doors stood right off the beaten path, catching passers by with the scent of perfume and oak-like whiskey. This was Madam Swell’s tavern, a famous bar and also a realm-class brothel. Dige and Mars wandered inside.

As soon as he passed through the doors, Dige was in love. She had a deep amber complexion like a lantern at low light with a sparkling white top that dazzled the dwarf. Her personality was bubbly, cool to the touch, and yet ever so inviting as she called him forward to the bar. Still, while she stood tall and confident over him with a sturdy frame, she was dripping with excitement, as if nervous about what would happen next. Dige couldn’t resist. He reached. A single kiss on the lips and she was his, and the dwarf took deep pleasure in plunging into her sweet, delicious depths. Instantly, he was in heaven.

It was so kind of the bartender to have an ale waiting for him. Never mind, it was a drink for someone else. Dige would have to pay for that, and by pay, I mean whipped mercilessly.

Despite the hubbub going on outside, the downstairs bar was empty, leaving Dige to enjoy the sampling of Elglynn’s finest beer alone with the bartender. The bartender also happened to be the owner, Madam Swell, a middle-aged veteran in war and other professions. Dige appreciated the company.

“So both you and your friend are not from this dimension?” she asked, drinking a little herself. “But also not from the same dimension?”

“Aye, that’s the case,” Dige replied. “Is that common around here?”

“I don’t know what the goddesses think, but we were pretty touristy until the corruption happened. Crazy powerful mages and warriors popped up from time to time to learn from some masters we have in Yore.”

“Were any of them...dwarves?”

“No, not really. You’re the first dwarf I’ve ever met.” She glanced at his ten empty mugs. “And I must say I’m impressed, but usually elves, humans, and more celestial who-knows-what cross realms on the regular.”

“Is that where you found those two?” Dige pointed at the stairs where Mars disappeared some time ago.

“No, they’re local. Our elf population is tame compared to what you'd find in other dimensions. Still, I never thought I’d see an orc like that walk into my brothel. We usually beat them back with hammers. Should I be worried about them? He was looking pretty…” her voice trailed off.

“I have no idea.” Dige drank another liter of ale to completion. “I…don’t know him that well, but I want to know more about him. I feel a…connection, but I don’t know how to make him like me.”

“Is it because he’s from another world? Some folks are telepaths like that.”

“Maybe?” Dige’s head drooped low. “I just feel like people don’t like me that much. I try to be nice and kind to others, but there’s something about me that just makes people hate me. I don’t know what it could be.”

“Well, you smell like a barn, and you’re ugly looking to boot.”

“Why is everyone so frank to me!?”

Swell crossed her arms. “But that’s first impressions. Past that, I don’t think there’s that much wrong with you.”

“Don’t be fooled,” a voice said from behind. “Beneath that harsh exterior is a violent psychopath. I’d be careful.”

Dige turned to the new patron, taking a seat beside him, and it was a familiar face. The elf wizard with the glasses, Vel Ambrosia, meant only one thing.