When You're That Guy at the Party

A lesson plan was put into place for Dige. If he was going to be allowed into the bar, he had to let Shige and his party in, too. They had to sit together and make nice with each other, side by side, hero to hero. They would be allies and compatriots. They've buried the hatchet and are working as a team. If Dige refused, he wouldn’t get his ale. Swell would also kill him, multiple times if she had to. If a grudge formed against her, she’d put him in the dungeon below the bar forever. It wouldn’t even be the first time.

At least, the supply of alcohol soothed Dige’s rage, and he became a more sociable, humane person.

“So, uh,” Dige mumbled, trying to think of small talk. “Did you meet your goddess when you died?”

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice weak. “Rani told me that parties are needed to fight the Devil's push in Fargo, so I have my next quest, and then she said not to embarrass her like that again.”

The boy was a virgin to alcohol before coming to Glynn’s World, but after a few months, he had become a king at chugging it.

“Dammit, I died again. I thought I’d never feel something like that ever again.”

“Have you been hit by an axe before?”

“Fuck you!” he shouted, but immediately minded his manners. “No, I died in an explosion. Something happened at a comics convention back in Japan. At least this time it was instant. That doesn’t mean I appreciate it, dwarf! But I’m glad to know death isn’t permanent for me.”

“Hey, that means we can throw you into traps,” Vel said frankly. “That makes everything so much easier.”

“Please don’t,” Nice added, holding her goddess’ amulet. “I don’t want to test my patron.”

“Yes, please don’t. Life is precious.” Shige went for another drink, but nothing seemed to work for him. “Dang, the mood is ruined. I was hoping tonight would be fun.”

Dige observed the interior of the building. “Oh, so that’s why you’re here?”

“Huh!?”

“I still don’t understand you, Japanese men. You have three beautiful lasses to fornicate with, and yet you come here to pay for more. That’s terribly inefficient.”

The girls went beet red. 

“I’m not here for a prostitute! And I’m not doing it with my party members!”

“And that’s weird! You’re in a prime position, boy! I may be a dwarf, but even I would take a pass on a girl I fancy, but you look pale as a ghost thinking about it. Ladies, does he do anything to you?”

Fura scratched her blonde head. “Um, he doesn’t act weird that often.”

“He harasses us on the daily,” Nice said. “I don’t even think he realizes it.”

Vel agreed. “Despite being a hero destined to save the world, he acts like a normal male teenager.”

“But, no sex?” Swell slid over with curiosity. Her passion presented itself. “No sparks? No nothing?”

The question was a hard one to answer. In fact, it became nearly impossible even after a minute to contemplate it. Even Shige himself was put off by the lack of confirmation, whereas Dige and Swell had given up entirely. 

“Well, we’ve learned a lot about each other over the past few months,” Vel stammered. “I respect you as a magician and as a friend. I can’t say much more.”

“Okay, you’ve done some cool things as of late,” Nice muttered, her eyes looking away. “So I can trust you in a fight. I can’t say about outside of it, though.”

“I’ve always been more of a ‘girl’s girl,’” Fura pressed her fingers together. “But I think you’re cute, so maybe if we get to know each other more, I could…”

The spectators turned back to the protagonist to gauge his reaction, and he was looking as flustered as they were. Dige and Swell eyed each other and came to the same conclusion. This. This was unbearable! What were they doing!? Was this what having a harem was like for the protagonists, months and months of sexual tension but no payoff, desperately wanting intimacy but shyly brushing it off on a daily basis? What was he afraid of? That they’d say no? So what if they did? What was the harm in that, and even if they did love him, would he even try anything? They’re doomed, Dige thought. The Japanese are doomed. 

The madam wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Alright, I’m going to roll a dice,” Swell said. “And depending on the roll, I’ll rent a room out to you. If it’s 1-2, you get a room with the green-haired elf. 3-4 it’s the black haired warlock, and 5-6 it’s the big-breasted blonde priestess. Ready?”

“Wait, no! It’s fine!” They all shouted with red faces. “Stop, no no no!”

The die was cast, and the face changed as it rolled across the countertop, threatening Shige with some kind of closure when suddenly it stopped. It hit a little dent, cut into the wood, and balanced itself on a corner. 

The die stood defiant against all odds and held itself without giving a defined answer. It had to be fate, everyone thought. This was beyond the goddesses. It was a natural law of the universe.

“Madam, I need new whores,” Mars said, walking into the bar. “The two presented to me broke.”

The spell over the dice broke as Fura screamed in terror at the orc, and Nice quickly joined with hollering that forced everyone to look.

It turns out Mars came from a different culture, and as such, left his room as he operated in it. Thus, everyone in attendance got to see the type of manhood an orc packed on a regular basis. The mix of revulsion, fear, and utter amazement brought Shige’s party to chaos as they demanded that he cover up immediately, all while Dige laughed at Mars for being so funny.

Swell handled the situation with professionalism. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are they fine?”

“They’re too fine. I cannot continue.”

“Ah, sorry for the inconvenience. I can get a new girl to take care of you immediately?”

“And that would be?”

Swell took another look. “Uh, me. I’m the girl.”

Mars couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Finally, some good service.” And he returned to his room at his own leisure.

In the midst of the chaos, as her bar became a cacophony of yelling and drunken hysterics, Swell noticed that the dice fell from its precarious position and lay flat on the counter with a number facing up. She eyed the girl with a smile. There was an answer.

After a couple of hours, Dige sat silently as he finished his final mug. The one person preventing him from acting out hadn't returned. He was left unsupervised with one of his mortal enemies within killing range. No more beer meant he couldn’t be satiated. The opportunity was there. He just had to swing.

Yet, when he turned to face them, he was met with laughter. Four magic users of different creeds, different beliefs, folks who would've never made associates of each other if not given the circumstances, screamed the night away, like they had forgotten everything that transpired. Their cheering and insults at each other brought him back home, back to a stone around a fire as his bearded village rested after a job well done tale, building their bonds with gentle ribbing and cajoling. The aftertaste of ale and the warm summer air transported him back to a land before Glynn’s world, and sitting in his favorite spot, a dark shadow washed over everything.

Suddenly, Dige was stone quiet. In his reminiscing, he realized that, despite being right next to them, he couldn’t be further away. Their in-jokes, bad advice, and drunken reassurances were an alien language to him. He grabbed his throat. His old familial connection was gone, and here it was a distant, unattainable dream. Would he ever find a way to capture it again?

A hard fatigue fell over him. He didn’t want to ask for a room to sleep in. He didn’t even want one of the stable tents. Instead, he went out onto the stairs leading down into the road, sat his butt down, and let his consciousness fade until morning.