DREADWOLF - Chapter 107

Hesitantly Rain took hold of the tent flap and pushed his head through.

The interior was large, as was to be expected, less unexpected was that it was full of furniture, like a proper room. Clearly Tamriel had liked her comforts.

One side held an enormous bed, a huge blocky thing built sturdy for an Orc. The sheets were ruffled, unset, and a number of suspicious leather straps and whips lay scattered across it. At first he thought he was seeing the tools of a torturer, but then he spotted a dildo, a green dildo. He blinked as he recognised the style, it was the same kind that Opal had stolen from Ola in the dungeon, albeit with some additional bumps and spikes.

He turned away from that sight to see something that made his brow rise and a wolfish grin break across his face. A huge copper tub was set out at one end, an Orc sized tub, meaning that the thing was enormous. Lyra had the dimensional bag out and was awkwardly pouring water from it into the tub, steam rising into the air as the shallow ashy fire below and around the tub heated the water.

The original contents that had been emptied from the dimensional bag weren’t hard to spot, a pile of treasure heaped on the ground, surrounded by… a lot more treasure. As he watched Red tipped open a sack he had apparently found somewhere and added to one of the many other piles of glittering gold, trinkets and baubles, gems and jewellery, crystal encrusted daggers, fat rings stacked with rubies and sapphires, heavy crowns and dusty ornamental blades that looked as though they had been looted from some ancient kingdom’s barrows. All of this was being looked down upon by an irritated Vash who had been placed on a table… his irritation may partly have been because of his proximity to another set of green orcish dildos piled up next to him.

Safe to say Red looked like he was about to die from a happiness heart attack. Rain felt obliged to check the Kobold wasn’t being levitated on clouds such was the way he drifted from treasure to treasure with a blissful expression.

It occurred to him that a clan of hundreds of Orcs might have…. A rather staggering amount of wealth if it was all collected together in one spot, an astronomical amount even. He wondered what they were going to do about it all, there was precisely zero chance that it was all going to fit inside the dimensional bag. They were suddenly rich beyond belief, an entire clans wealth made theirs alone in one singular stroke.

He wasn’t quite sure how to even begin to address that. But for the moment he had other more pressing priorities.

He turned back to the bath and pushed into the tent.

Lyra glanced up and then did a full on double take as she found the enormous wolf monster pushing inside, barely fitting through the flap.

“Wh-why are you s-so much bigger!?” she squeaked out, nearly dropping the dimensional bag and having to scramble to catch it as a bucket’s worth of water spilt free.

“Orcs. Lots and lots of Orcs.”

“O-oh, well, erm I didn’t expect that mu- I mean I, uh, made a bath, t-to clean in, for us, we have, er, already b-bathed.”

Rain approached and found the bath to be… a lot smaller than he had first thought, even built for a seven foot tall Orc it was small for his size. Well, that wasn’t going to stop him, he eagerly lifted a foot and stepped inside. Displaced water immediately sloshed over the rim and extinguished the shallow fire leaving the tent dimly lit by a single brazier at one end. Then twice as much water sloshed free as he put his other foot in, then multiple times that as he lowered himself in an awkward crouch, a tsunami of hot bath water washed across the floor of the tent from end to end causing Lyra to dance about on her hooves yelping and for Red to complain loudly as water splashed up and washed around his many islands of treasure.

Rain peered down at his now honestly rather forlorn bath. The tub was more full of him squeezing into it now than it was full of bathwater, the copper sides bulging out with his mass, water only just filling the gaps, in fact, it was mostly empty.

He made an unhappy face.

“Hey this is your fault! You got nearly a whole foot taller, and w-way w-w-way b-bigger-” the sheep girl had to pause and swallow as her eyes drifted down to the tub where his lower body was, imagination running wild.

“Lyra.”

She snapped back up. “Ah-ahaha-” she laughed awkwardly, mouth dry. “Well th-the answer is simple! I just, uh, splash water at you? On you?” she lifted the dimensional bag and waved it vaguely at him.

“It’s not really the same thing,” he said gloomily.

“No no, it’ll be fine! Opal come here, look, just use some shampoo and-”

She dragged a chair over and placed it behind Rain. Hopping up on top she tipped the dimensional bag and water started to spill out of the opening. Below Opal grabbed up a bottle full of a gooey blue liquid and poured it on his back, having to get up on tiptoes to reach high. Together they splashed water and shampoo and made an enthusiastic if completely ineffective effort to wash him.

After a moment Opal ran out of shampoo.

“I’m out of the shampoo goo sheepy, this is the last we got from the ranker’s mansion! look what you’ve done!”

“What do you mean what have I done? This isn’t my fault.”

“Mhmm, and you weren’t upending bottle after bottle of the shampoo over your fluff. I saw everything you know.”

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to clean blood out of white fluff like mine?! I needed that shampoo, I didn’t have a choice as a half woolie!”

“Well I hope it was worth it, cause it’s all gone now,” scowled Opal tossing the empty bottle aside with a tinkle of broken glass.

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong! Where do you find shampoo in an Orcish camp? Nowhere because Orcs don’t seem to be aware the stuff exists, BUT! A certain half dwarf travelling merchant trader who goes places not full of clueless Orcs?”

The sheep girl skittered over to a large crate and flipped open the lid. After a moment of rustling around in the hay inside she lifted out a round glass bottle of clear fluid with a long neck and held it up triumphantly.

“That’s a bottle of water sheepy. Water isn’t going to do anything for this mess.”

“No, it’s not water, see,” she jabbed a finger at the writing on the side of the crate and gave Opal a confident smile. After a moment of Opal staring at the writing blankly she recalled that the Goblin still couldn’t actually read and snatched her finger back irritably. “It says luxury cleaning potions!”

“Oh.”

“Look just give it a try, I’m sure this stuff will work just like the shampoo.”

She tossed Opal the bottle who struggled with the cork for a moment before popping it off. The liquid inside fizzled and burbled.

“Alright,” said Lyra climbing back atop her stool. “On one, tw-”

Opal ignored her and tossed the contents of the bottle over Rain’s back.

“Hey! You should have… should have…

Lyra’s voice petered off as with a fwoosh! The clear liquid bubbled and fizzed and rolled outward from where it had landed, a spreading wave of liquid that turned every bit of dirt and filth and gore it touched into a white mist that drifted up to the tent’s ceiling, clean glossy black fur left behind in its wake.

Rain lifted his paw and watched round eyed as the fluid rolled up to his claw tips leaving only sparkling clean Rain behind, as though he had just been through a dozen scrubs and shampoos, immaculate perfect cleanliness, not even a speck of dust.

“What in the gods is this? Is this really shampoo?”

“I, uh…”

Opal stood up from where she had been examining the back of the crate.

“There’s a picture of a sword and anvil on the back of this crate sheepy, you think they shampoo swords? Is that a thing?”

Rain turned and stared at Lyra. “Did you just have a blacksmith’s industrial cleaning potion used on me thinking it was a magical shampoo?”

“uhhhh…”

Opal helpfully handed Rain a fresh potion plucked from the crate. He held the thing, dwarfed in his massive paw, a liquid designed to tear through the encrusted difficult to remove burned on muck of a tough steel forge, used on his body… his especially tough body… meaning, it just… worked? A normal person would have obviously been hurt or burned by it, but with him?

“This is the best magic ever invented.” he decided.

“It is?”

“It’s a bath in a bottle. I can get as covered in as much muck as I want and not have to live with it. This changes everything.” said Rain, eyes flashing with excitement, paw raising as he gazed at the potion. “I can just open one of these and pour it on and all the filthiness will just go away, no more desperately searching for a way to bathe…!”

Opal perked up hearing that. “No more water? No more baths?”

Rain paused. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to use this on you, it’s pretty strong, you might get burned, or melted, or both… So, still baths for you.”

Opal crossed her arms and set her lips in a line. “I’ll go with the burning and the melting thanks.”

“There are levelers outside,” came a brooding dark voice, interrupting them.

The three of them paused and turned to see Vash still perched on the table, brooding darkness slightly spoilt by the large pile of dildos right next to him. His flame eyes were set to one side, gazing through the canvas and outside the tent.

“Three of them.”

“Orcs?”

The skull tried to nod calmly, but then realising that as a skull it was incapable of nodding simply stated “Yes, with weapons, they’re approaching.”

“What do we do!?” whisper hissed Lyra eyes dancing around the tent expecting Orcs to leap at her at any moment.

“They must have seen me,” said Red, frantic, “They saw me gathering the gold and they followed me back to take it all! Quickly! You have to protect my gold! Protect me- eeeh!”

The sound of tearing canvas interrupted him suddenly and Red fell over in his panic, scrambling over a pile of treasure and huddling down flat behind it.

The heavy scimitar protruding from the canvas was removed and an Orcish hand ripped the fabric wide. A large muscular leg slipping inside, then a body and head, where they momentarily froze up, catching sight of Rain.

“Skill up. It’s here.” growled the Orc and an oil slick of refractive rainbow colours slipped over his skin, his motions accelerating massively, becoming dextrous and efficient, repositioning into a half crouch, ready to spring. Two more Orcs slipped in behind, their skin the same oil slick Rainbow.

Rain eyed the Orcs as they spread out around him, weapons readied, feet crunching across kicked aside gold, an unhappy Kobold squawking to one side, they ignored the others, all eyes for him, the kill, the levels.

Being in the awkward position of sitting in a bathtub didn’t make for a particularly good defence so he barely had time to raise his paw before the first Orc darted toward him. Darted being an understatement, the Orc was standing ready, and then he was hurtling forward, blade whipping through the air so fast the air tore. It was as though he had skipped several steps required to move laterally and just arrived at his destination without needing to physically walk the distance.

But Rain had been expecting some Skill empowered trick and was able to just catch the Orcs forearm in his broad paw and the sword stopped stone dead in its path. One flex and the Orc screamed as his forearm was crushed to slurried mulch under the insane pressure of Rain’s pads, the dropped sword clanging off the copper tub before it splashed on the puddled ground.

Unfortunately, the other Orcs hadn’t been idle and Rain flinched as a heavy sword landed on his back, a skill empowered blow that rocked him forward, a blow that should have cut deep, that would have cut him deep. He blinked as he realised the sword hadn’t even pierced his flesh. A rather surprised Orc was left holding a sword, the tip gently resting on his back, no wound, completely unharmed, his newer tougher body having held strong.

In one furious motion Rain twisted, the copper bathtub ripping to scattered shrapnel around him, a fresh wave of water flooding out, and grabbed the astonished Orc by the neck, the Orc tried to react, his body flaring with an aura of coloured oil light, but it was already too late, in a moment he was dead, neck crushed.

The first Orc he held in his paw seized the opportunity of distraction and Rain jerked his head aside as a spear that had been formed of colourful oil suddenly thrust up, the tip aiming for his eye socket, a desperate deathblow. It very nearly worked, the tip only missing fractionally, sent scraping over bone. Rain snarled in outrage and his head snapped forward. In a second the uncorked body of the Orc slumped to the ground, his head disappearing down Rain’s throat.

Two, two of the three. A cry from Lyra made him whip round. The third Orc hadn’t attacked recklessly, instead she had gone for Opal, a blade held to her throat as she stood behind her, her body trembling with fury.

“I saw everything, I kn-know you c-care about this one! You can’t do anything while I have her!”

She pressed the blade closer and Rain froze, hopelessly caught between wanting to lunge for the Orc and fear for Opal’s life

“That’s right, just stay still, don’t move, now bare your throat for me and let me slit your windpipe and I’ll let this goblin live. It’ll be quick-”

Opal began to struggle, not liking what she heard.

“Shut the fuck up you stupid Orc, you aren’t doing anything, anything!”

The Orc grit her teeth and held her firm, a slim rivulet of red rolling over the blade held at her neck.

Rain barely able to control himself eased back, trying to be as non-threatening as possible.

“Good, now-

Opal struggled harder, the blade becoming messy with red.

“Stop moving you stupid Goblin, do you want to die?”

Opal glared up at her, fierce. Then she blinked, as though something had occurred to her.

It only took a moment, the tent was dimly lit, shadowed, the Orc blocking the light of the one small brazier behind. One moment Opal was there and the next she was gone, vanished.

The Orc stumbled forward, hands grabbing at the place that Opal had just been. In a moment of panic her head darted side to side, desperately searching the tent for the goblin even as Rain started to move. Wide eyed and fearful she turned to check behind her. That was when Opal rose back out of the shadow cast by the Orc and slashed at her neck with the dark harpy talon.

The Orc gurgled, the flesh around her gaping neck wound burbling, fleeing, and then she flopped down dead.

Opal flipped the talon in her head then let it mist back into her horn, one hand resting casually on her hip.

“What? Did you think the free stabby was all I got from evolving?”

Stratothrax

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