And the Johns, who made high school just a little less shitty,

And Jeff Hollingsworth, for being so generous.

"So you're here all alone?" said Hollingsworth, the sorcerer who had been plying them with drinks all night. Though he was only a couple of feet away from Dave, his voice sounded distant and echoing. "No friends? No family?"

Dave stifled a yawn. "I've got friends, man. Take a look around." His vision blurred as he turned his head to look at Tim. He could only focus enough to tell that Tim was passed out face down on the table.

Turning his head to the right, slowly and deliberately so that his vision could keep up, he found Julian likewise asleep, his head hanging back with a string of drool hanging out the corner of his mouth.

This guy was feeding them some strong shit. It hadn't tasted that strong. Kinda fruity, but it really sneaked up on them.

A slight shift further to the right, and Dave was surprised to see Cooper sitting right next to him. He was even awake... kind of.

"Hey, man!" said Dave. He wasn't sure if he was swaying or if Cooper was. "Whassup?"

Cooper's bloodshot eyes opened a little wider, like he'd been in a state of semi-consciousness which Dave had just fully awakened him from.

"Whassup? Did you just say whassup to me? Who the fuck do you think you –"

It started with a belch rising from the depths of his stomach. Dave experienced it in slow motion, hearing every reverberating micro-syllable in rhythm with the to-and-fro flapping of Cooper's half-orc cheeks as the stench of partially digested food and booze washed over his face.

Dave's reflexes were far behind his heightened awareness, however. When the vomit started to flow, Dave saw it come out of Cooper's mouth in what seemed like a series of six frames of animation, but was unable to turn his head in time to avoid a direct blast to the face.

"NOOOO–" He was also not able to stop himself from screaming. The taste was similar to what they'd been drinking all night, but more acidic and studded with chunks of ham.

Dave felt the contents of his own stomach rising like an elevator with an out of control counterweight. He hosed down Cooper's man tits with his own boozy ham-studded vomit.

"Are you two gentlemen quite all right?" asked Hollingsworth.

"Never been better," said Cooper. "Second wind! Let's get a waiter." As much as Dave hated to admit it, Cooper was right. All of Dave's sensory perception was back to normal. His vision was no longer blurred. He could hear the hustle and bustle of the lunch crowd in the tavern at normal speed and volume. Ejecting so much of that shit they were drinking must have cleared his head. He also felt like he could go another round.

Hollingsworth frowned at the chunky orange vomit pooled on the table, the floor, the seats, and dripping off of Dave and Cooper. "Perhaps it would be wiser to continue this conversation at a different venue."

"How about one for the road, then?" asked Cooper.

Hollingsworth's eyes darted nervously out of the booth as he fidgeted in his plain brown woolen robes for something. With a sigh of relief, he produced a small piece of what appeared to be green chalk.

"I was thinking we might leave before one of the tavern workers sees this mess."

"You mean like dine n' dash?" asked Dave. The only way in and out of this place was on the other side of the bar. He and Cooper weren't exactly the stealthiest ones in the party either.

"Heave it n' leave it," said Cooper. "Fuck yeah, let's roll!"

Dave didn't like where this was going. "I just don't think it's worth the risk. Tim and Julian aren't even conscious. How are we supposed to drag them out of here without being seen?"

"Leave that to me," said Hollingsworth, grinning confidently while holding up his tiny piece of chalk. "Would you mind scooting forward a bit?"

Dave held back any further objections and scooted forward in his seat until his breastplate touched the table.

Hollingsworth crawled behind him until he was at the back of the booth between Dave and Cooper. He craned his neck to look over the booth, then turned his attention to the tapestry hanging on the back wall behind Cooper's seat.

Similar tapestries hung at the back of every booth in the tavern. They depicted scenes of heroes fighting fantasy creatures. The artwork wasn't particularly impressive, but it made for better tavern atmosphere than the bare walls at the Whore's Head Inn.

The tapestry at the back of their booth, which Hollingsworth suddenly seemed so interested in, showed a knight on horseback facing off against a bald, grey-skinned giant. The giant was twice as tall as the mounted knight, and wielded a stone above his head, ready to hurl.

Dave wiped some half-digested ham chunks out of his beard and concentrated on calming his insides, lest he also be ready to hurl.

When Hollingsworth determined the coast was clear, he pulled the tapestry away from the wall, revealing a chalk-drawn diagram on the wall. A large pentagon with trapezoids on each side of it. Inside four of the trapezoids were symbols that Dave didn't recognize. Magical runes or something?

Hollingsworth drew one such mysterious symbol in the remaining trapezoid, and the whole diagram flashed with green light for a moment.

"Grab your friends. We must hurry!"

"I'd feel your sense of urgency more if you hadn't just stopped to finish the world's shittiest graffiti on the wall," said Cooper. He lifted his right ass cheek and squeaked out a fart. "On second thought, now time's a factor."

"You do not understand, my half-orc friend. For what I have drawn on the wall is a portal to E'cha." Hollingsworth put his hand through the wall to demonstrate. His arm went in up to the elbow with no resistance, as if the wood was merely an illusion.

"Whoa!" said Dave. "That's incredible." He glanced around to make sure none of the tavern staff was around before standing up on his seat. He touched the wall with both hands, or at least attempted to. His hands went through it as if it wasn't even there. He leaned forward, trying to keep his eyes open as he put his face through, but he couldn't resist closing them. That much accounted for his loss of sight, but his sudden loss of hearing was inexplicable.

"What the fuck?" he said, relieved that he could hear himself say it. He wasn't deaf. He was merely in a much quieter place than the tavern. At least his head was. He opened his eyes.

Dave had assumed that they were going to some other tavern, but the portal's destination was like a lunar landscape, grey and rocky. He squinted in reaction to the glaring sun, which reminded him that they'd started drinking in the late morning. There wasn't a pub in sight. He noticed that his head and hands were poking out of the side of a massive boulder, and framed by an identical chalk diagram drawn onto the stone.

The bottom of the diagram was about ten feet above the rocky ground below. A series of footholds had been chiseled into the boulder from the ground to the bottom of the chalk outline. It would be awkward, but Dave thought he could climb down if he wanted to.

But did he want to? What was the point of skipping out on a bar tab only to be stuck in some barren wasteland? No. It would make much more sense to just pay the bill and hope they could get out of there before anyone saw the mess they'd – "OW!"

A sharp blow to the ass broke Dave's concentration. Cooper's elbow. Already leaning forward, Dave grasped at illusory stone, then tried to step back, slipped in his own vomit, and fell forward.

"SHIIIIIIIT!" He did half a somersault before hitting the ground hard on his back. It hurt a lot, and knocked the wind out of him, but he'd pull through.

With all the strength he could muster, Dave rolled over and pushed himself up. "Stupid asshole. He didn't know what was on the other side of that portal. I might have been –"


A force from above flattened Dave face down on the ground.

"Ow!" said Tim, awakened from his drunken slumber. "What the fuck, Dave?"

"I didn't –"

"Why is your face full of puke?" Tim looked around. "Where the hell are we?"

Dave sat up. "I don't know. We were drinking with that guy we met in the market." He got on one knee and started to push himself up to his feet. "He wanted to skip out on paying the bar tab, so he –"

"You take your filthy hands off him this instant!" cried Ravenus from above. Flapping his black wings hard, he charged back into the stone.


Whether it was because he didn't recognize the significance of the chalk drawing or because he was still blind drunk, Ravenus smashed beak-first into the solid part of the stone and fell to the ground. "Son of a bitch that hurt!"

"–AVENUS!" cried Julian as he flew out of the stone clutching his face.

"Fuck," said Dave just before Julian crashed into him.

Julian rolled away from Dave before Cooper followed. Dave didn't even bother with a Reflex save. He just shielded his face and waited to be punished for existing.

"E'CHA, motherfuckers!" To Dave's amazement, Cooper landed on his feet, one foot on each side of his head.

Dave breathed a sigh of relief as he uncovered his face. He got a quick view of Cooper's junk before a brown blob hit him in the face, obscuring his vision once again.

"Sorry about that," said Cooper. "I didn't see you down there. Interdimensional travel gives me the shits."

Dave sat up and wiped the shit out of his eyes. "Fuck you."

Hollingsworth came out of the stone feet first, carefully feeling for the footholds. What an asshole.

"Welcome, gentlemen, to E'cha!" he said when he reached the stony ground.

Cooper walked to the stone and reached up for the portal. "That's a pretty good trick. What is that? Magic chalk?"

Hollingsworth covered his hands with the long sleeves of his robe and pulled Cooper away by the arm. "Indeed it is. And it's very expensive. If the line is broken, the portal will close. I need that to get back."

"You need it?" asked Julian. "What about the rest of us?"

"We need it," Hollingsworth said with a grin. "Did I say I? Of course I meant we."

Tim trudged over to a large pile of boulders. "I could use a wee. What is this place? Why are we here?"

"I think it's supposed to be a pub," said Cooper. He looked around at the bare expanse of dirt and rocks surrounding them all. "Kind of minimalist in the décor."

"It'll have some color once you start shitting all over the –" Tim's voice caught in his throat as the pile of rocks he was pissing on shifted and began to rise, taking on a familiar form.

It wasn't a pile of rocks at all, but rather an extremely well-camouflaged naked man, now standing at least four times Tim's height.

"I'm so sorry, sir," said Tim, staring up at a dong as big as one of his own legs. "I didn't know you were –"

The giant yawned with a sound like the Death Star getting ready to fire and scratched his boulder-like balls. Though his skin appeared flexible, the sound of his fingers against his sack was exactly like stone scraping against stone.

When his itchy balls were tended to, he stared down at Dave and his companions with a stern, but not exactly angry, expression on his face, which reminded Dave of an Easter Island statue.

"Hollingsworth," he said in a booming gravelly voice. "You kept me waiting. I might have gone home had I not fallen asleep."

"I sincerely apologize, Furgal. I needed to make sure they lived up to your demanding specifications."

Dave was still pretty drunk and having some trouble putting together what was going on. He suspected Hollingsworth was talking about the four of them, but he couldn't think of what kind of demanding specifications they could possibly live up to.

Furgal nodded. "They are without friends and family? They will not be missed?"

"After you spend a few more minutes with them, you'll have no doubt about how little they'll be missed."

"Hey!" cried Dave. "Will someone explain what the hell is going on here?" He glared at Hollingsworth as the hazy pieces came together in his mind. "Are you selling us into slavery?"

Hollingsworth shrugged. "Slavery, prostitution, food, who knows? My place isn't to ask questions."

"I don't understand."

"I'm not sure how I can make it any plainer." Hollingsworth though for a moment, then spoke unnecessarily loud and slowly. "I. AM. UNCONCERNED. WITH. YOUR. FATE."

"I understood that much," Dave muttered. "You don't have to be a dick about it. I meant that I don't understand how you could just turn on us like that. We were having a good time. I thought we were friends. How can you live with yourself?"

Hollingsworth smiled gently at Dave. "Believe me. If you knew how much gold I was promised for this, you would have encouraged me to go through with it."

Furgal produced a large moss-covered sack from behind what Dave hoped was an actual pile of boulders rather than another huge naked man. The sack bulged at the bottom, clearly full of something heavy.

Hollingsworth's eyes teared up. "By the gods, I've never seen so much gold!"

"And you never will."

The childlike joy vanished suddenly from Hollingsworth's face. "I beg your par–"


Dave noticed a distinct lack of jingling as Furgal repeatedly smashed Hollingsworth into sorcerer paste. The sack had been full of rocks all along, suggesting that Furgal had meant to double cross him from the beginning.

"What the fuck, man?" cried Tim.

Furgal stopped beating the pulpy remains of Hollingsworth and glared down at Tim. "I care not for such language."

"Language?" said Tim. "Language? You just murdered a man in cold blood, and you're going to give me shit about my language?"

"A man who would sell his own people into slavery is no man. He had no honor."

Julian cleared his throat, still looking appropriately horrified, but now also cautiously optimistic. "Does that mean you're going to let us go home now?"

"Are you in such a hurry that you would leave poor Hollingsworth to be devoured by wild dogs?" asked Furgal. "Is it not the custom, even among you tiny savages, to bury your dead?"

Dave, Julian, Cooper, and Tim glanced at each other and nodded their unspoken understanding. Whatever this guy wants, as long as he lets us go afterward.

"Did you happen to bring a shovel?" Dave asked Furgal.

Cooper frowned at Hollingsworth's remains. "Or a spatula?"

"No need for that," said Furgal. He grinned at Dave. "I will show you a custom of my people, passed down to me by my father. When my sons become men, I shall pass it on to them."

"That's nice."

"Did you notice how I smashed Hollingsworth's body into the ground?"

Dave wished that Julian would take back the Diplomacy reins. "I did notice that."

"Most of it, anyway," said Cooper. He peeled a piece of gore – either an ear or a toe from what Dave could make out – off his chest and flung it into the larger pile of Hollingsworth.

"While I was destroying my foe, the rocks in my sack were getting pulverized to dust."

Cooper cringed as his gaze was drawn to Furgal's junk. "Dude, there are better ways of dealing with guilt."

Furgal lifted his sack and let the powdered rocks flow out onto Hollingsworth's remains. When the sack was empty, he looked at Dave.

Dave didn't know why Furgal had taken such a liking to him, but he wished he hadn't. "That is very impressive."

"Would you care to say some words?"

There weren't many things Dave would have preferred to do less than to make an impromptu eulogy for an asshole they'd just met a couple of hours before he tried to sell them into slavery, but Julian was nodding at him encouragingly.

Whatever this guy wants, as long as he lets us go afterward.

"Dearly beloved," Dave started.

Cooper snorted. He, Tim, and Julian had their heads bowed, which Dave thought was an attempt at fake reverence. But now he suspected they were just trying to keep from making eye contact with him.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate the memory of Hollingsworth. He lived his life like a candle in the wind. Hollingsworth, who loved bowling." Dave could feel his palms sweating as he went further and further off the rails. He needed to bring this back on track and end it as quickly as possible. "Yea, though you walk through the Hidden Valley of Death, may you hear no evil, nor see it." He folded his hands and bowed. "Namaste."

"Namaste?" Julian, Tim, and Cooper muttered.

"Namaste," Furgal repeated solemnly.

Cooper pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. "That was beautiful, Dave."

"Indeed," said Furgal. "Very touching."

Julian clapped his hands together. "Well, we don't want to waste any more of your time. I suppose we should be heading home."

"Very well. Step into my sack, and I shall take you there." Furgal opened the mouth of his sack and spread it on the ground.

Julian looked anxiously at the brown leather sack, stained with dark blotches of what Dave hoped was spilled raspberry jam from an old picnicking accident. "That's very kind of you, but we'll just go back the way we came."

"I'm afraid that will not be possible," said Furgal. "You are my property now. You are coming with me."

"Fuck that!" said Tim. "You told us we could go home!"

Furgal grabbed Tim with one hand and his sack with the other. "And you shall. I will bring you to your new home, where you will help my sons become men."

"Wha–" Tim managed to squeak out before he was shoved into the bag.

Cooper started to run, but Furgal probably anticipating that, let the mouth of the sack drop open next to Cooper and shoved him inside.

"I don't want to fuck your kids!" cried Cooper before Furgal lifted the sack, effectively shutting him up.

"What about honor?" asked Julian when Furgal moved toward him. There was more desperation in his voice than Diplomacy. "Didn't you kill Hollingsworth because he was engaging in human trafficking?"

Furgal squinted at Julian, then at Dave, then at his sack. "Human trafficking?"

"Figure of speech. I meant slave trading."

"I killed Hollingsworth for selling out his own people. There is no honor in that."

"What about us?" asked Julian. He spread his arms and smiled up at Furgal. "Are we not all one people?"

"You are not giantkin. You are inferior tiny races. Not my people." Furgal grabbed Julian and shoved him into the sack.

Only Dave was left. Furgal's giant dick swung like a pendulum as he lumbered toward Dave.

"Please, sir," pleaded Dave. "We can't help your sons become men. Wouldn't you prefer some women for that?"

Furgal stopped and squatted. Even in a squat his face was a good four feet higher than Dave's. "Would you sell out your own people's women? That is even lower than Hollingsworth."

Now that he put it that way, it did sound like kind of a fucked up thing to say.

"No, I..." Dave had nothing.

"Get in the sack."

Dave nodded and stepped into the open sack, which was immediately jerked up around him, engulfing him in darkness, a tangle of slimy flailing elbows and knees, and the worst smell he'd ever experienced. No, it was a smell he was intimately familiar with, but never quite this concentrated before.

"Oh god, what the hell?"

"Sorry, man," said Cooper. "Fear of getting raped by stone giants gives me the shits."

The sack shook and swung, like Furgal was switching shoulders. Dave, already upside down, felt himself sinking deeper in. Then he felt something like a large monkey scramble up his leg. It had to be Tim.

Finally, he felt warm, sticky liquid on his cheek. He reached upward to find something to grab hold of, but he only sank deeper in.

"Dammit, Tim!" Dave cried, the top of his head submerged in half-orc shit. "I'm in up to my eyes. If it gets to my nose, I'm literally going to drown in shit!"

"Stop moving." Tim's voice came from up near Dave's feet, confirming Dave's theory. "You're the densest person here. The more you move, the more you're going to sink."

"Fuck you! You climbed me like a goddamn tree! That's why I'm sinking." Dave tried to kick Tim, but felt the warm, oozing shit pass over his eyes to the bridge of his nose. He stopped kicking and froze as still as he could. "Okay. I'm cool. I'm cool."

"I don't want to sound homophobic," said Cooper. "But I'm kinda scared right now."

"There's nothing intrinsically homophobic about not wanting to be raped," said Julian.

Cooper sighed, as if he was actually reassured by Julian's words. "I mean, did you see the size of that dude's schlong?"

"Screw you guys!" said Tim. "Dave and Cooper could fit double-decker buses up their asses. Julian's almost certainly going to sustain severe internal damage. I'm just going to be a fucking cock koozie."

Dave had a sudden last ditch hope. "Maybe stone giants reach sexual maturity earlier than humans. Maybe they're really young. If they're, like, eight years old or something, they might have smaller dongs."

The inside of the sack went completely silent until Tim finally spoke up.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Dave?"

"I didn't mean... I'm just saying... I was looking for a scenario where we might all survive this."

"What do you think, Julian? Is there anything intrinsically wrong with hoping our rapists are eight-year-olds?"

Now that Tim put it that way, it did sound like a pretty fucked up thing to say.

"Given the circumstances," Julian responded, "I'd say it's an ethical grey area."

Once again, Dave felt the need to reset the train he'd accidentally derailed. "We should make a break for it now."

"With what?" asked Tim. "We don't have any weapons. We can't outrun this asshole. We certainly can't fight him. Remember Hollingsworth?"

"He got Hollingsworth with a surprise attack. If Hollingsworth hadn't been blinded by greed and went into that meeting prepared for the worst, that might have been more of a battle. How might we fare if we get the jump on Furgal?"

"Need I remind you that we're all slowly suffocating in a sack of shit slung over Furgal's shoulder? This is hardly an ideal attack formation."

"That's just the point!" said Dave. "That makes it an even bigger surprise."

"If you have a plan beyond this, I think we're all willing to listen."

Dave turned his head to where he thought Julian was. Not that it mattered, as they were all in the dark, and his eyes were covered in shit. "Julian, can you summon a horse inside this sack?"

"Stop!" said Tim. Then he continued in a calmer voice. "If I may point out a potential flaw in the early stages of your plan, this sack is already pretty fucking crowded."

"Exactly," said Dave. "The sudden manifestation of a horse might be enough to tear this sack apart at the seams."

"And then what? Those of us who survive getting hooved in the fucking face by an understandably confused horse will have the shit pounded out of us by a stone giant."

"Not if we create enough chaos." Julian choked out the words like he'd been trying to breathe as little as possible. "The first horse busts the sack open."

"First horse?" asked Dave.

"Then I keep summoning more horses, both to create confusion and so that we can haul ass out of there. Cooper throws Tim up at Furgal's face, where Tim will shove handfuls of shit into his eyes."

"What's the point of Tim having shit in his eyes?" asked Cooper.

Julian sighed. "I meant Furgal's eyes."

"And what about me?" asked Dave.

"You jump up and grab onto his dick."

"Why do I have to grab onto his dick?"

"Somebody has to. Everyone else already has assignments."

"I'm just not convinced that dick grabbing is a necessary part of this plan. Couldn't I just hug his ankle or something?"

"That's not going to keep him from kicking our asses. Nobody can fight with a dwarf swinging from their dick."

"Dude," said Cooper. "You're starting to sound a little homophobic."

"No I'm not! Julian, is there anything intrinsically homophobic about not wanting to swing from a giant dick?"

"I don't know man. You were ready to hug his ankle. Getting squeamish about touching his dick to save all our lives kind of sounds like textbook homophobia to me."

"Fuck you! Who made you our Minister of Morality anyway? If I was homophobic, wouldn't I rather swing from a giant dick then take one up the ass?"

"You make an interesting point."

Now that Julian put it that way, it did sound like a pretty fucked up thing to say.

"Dude!" said Cooper. "Are you selling us all out for some stone giant cock?"

"He's probably still holding out hope that they're eight-year-olds," said Tim.

Julian had used his Diplomacy skill on the whole party, and they'd swallowed it hook, line, and sinker.

"You know what?" said Dave. "Fuck all you guys! You want to do this stupid plan. Have at it. I'll swing from giant dick if that's what it takes. Let's go."

"Sorry, Dave," said Julian. "The plan only works if everyone does their part."

"Just summon your stupid horse."

Julian's feet pushed against Dave's breastplate as he positioned himself to cast the spell.

"Horse!"

Dave's head was shoved deeper into the shit as his entire body was pressed against the thick unyielding hide of the sack. Though his ears were clogged with shit, he had no trouble hearing the frightened horse scream as its hooves pounded his backplate.

The sack descended quickly, sandwiching Dave between the hard ground and the weight of his three companions and a horse. He hoped it would be enough to crush him to death before he drowned in Cooper's shit. But it was not to be.

The horse's weight suddenly disappeared, and Dave was able to lift his face out of the shit puddle at the bottom of the sack, the top of which was now open.

Furgal glared down at the four of them, his hands on his hips. The tip of his penis seemed to be glaring at Dave specifically, but that could have been Dave's imagination.

The horse was outside of Dave's extremely limited field of vision, but he could hear it galloping away.

"That was an unkind trick," said Furgal. "You might have thrown out my back." He bent over. When he stood back up, he was holding a bowling ball sized stone in his hand and squinting off into the distance.

"Oh no," cried Juilan. "Please –"

Furgal hurled the stone, and the sound of galloping stopped shortly afterward. He looked back down at the sack.

"We have arrived."

That was just as well. The sack had held together, ruining Julian's plan, which required a bit more freedom of movement than they currently had.

Tim hopped out first. Julian crawled out after him. Dave and Cooper rolled around in the sack of sweaty shit-paste for a moment, trying to untangle their limbs.

The outside air smelled heavily of shit, but was absolutely refreshing compared to the air inside the sack.

A massive stone house, similar in style to those in The Flintstones, towered over Dave. There was no door, but Dave supposed that stone giants don't have to worry too much about people wandering in and stealing their shit.

The few pieces of furniture Dave saw as they followed their host through the house were made of tree trunks or boulders, leveled off and polished at heights suited to their purposes. An arrangement of three stumps around a five foot tall cube of stone was easily identifiable as a primitive but functional dining set.

Furgal led Dave, Julian, Cooper, and Tim through the doorway at the back of the house. They followed his bare stony ass, no one willing to make the first move in the assault they'd hastily planned.

They came to the edge of a pit, roughly the dimensions of an Olympic sized swimming pool, only deeper. The floor of the pit was more of the same rocky dirt that seemed to be native to this area, but the stonework lining the sides was some of the smoothest masonry Dave had ever seen. The dwarf in him appreciated the craftsmanship, though he suspected the attention to detail was meant to make climbing out nigh-impossible.

Dave suddenly realized something else. There was still no sign of the two sons. They still had a four-on-one advantage against Furgal. Another advantage was that Furgal was standing right on the edge of the pit. One good shove, and they might buy enough time for Julian to summon some more horses. The odds were still slim, but Dave thought they were better than making it out of that pit alive once they got into it.

Tim, Julian, and Cooper seemed to be thinking the same thing. They all traded glances and nods, but all seemed hesitant to make the first move. A better opportunity than the one they had right now wasn't likely to present itself, so Dave took the initiative.

"NOW!" Dave ran at Furgal, his arms raised as high as he could raise them to give the stone giant a push in the ass.

"Horse!" cried Julian.

"Fuck," said Tim, running in front of Furgal over toward Cooper. Furgal gave him a gentle kick into the pit while Dave pushed ineffectively on his ass.

"Fuck!" Tim repeated from the bottom of the pit.

Cooper narrowed his eyes at Dave, shook his head, and grabbed for Furgal's arm.

Furgal waved his arm out of the way, then shoved Cooper into the pit.

"Goddammit, Dave!" said Cooper from the bottom of the pit.

Dave lowered his arms as Furgal turned to face him and Julian.

"I'll just let myself down." Julian jumped into the pit, and Cooper grunted as he caught him.

Furgal glared down at Dave. "I do not approve of your trickery. You fight without honor."

From his brief time knowing Furgal, Dave knew that the penalty for dishonor could be as severe as getting beaten to death with a bag of rocks. He followed Julian's strategy of jumping into the pit.

His legs buckled, landing him hard on his ass. It hurt a lot, but his friends' glares following him down as they made no move to catch him also stung.

"I hope you find your accommodations suitable," Furgal said, now towering twenty feet above them.

Cooper looked around the pit. "This is our accommodations?"

"You shall have everything you need to be comfortable. As you can see, there is plenty of room to run around. I shall return soon with your food and water bowls."

"Food and water bowls?" said Tim. "We're not fucking dogs, you know!"

Furgal furrowed his brow and squinted down at Tim. "I would never ask you to do that."

Before Tim could replay the exchange in his head, Furgal continued. "Behave yourselves. I must tend to supper before my sons come home." He looked at the sky and sniffed the air. "I fear coming rain is in the wind."

"What the fuck, Dave?" said Tim once Furgal retreated back to the house.

"What did I do?"

"You didn't follow the plan. You didn't even give us time to get into position. Cooper was supposed to throw me up to his face so I could rub shit in his eyes, remember?"

"That plan was bullshit and you all know it."

"But your ass-grab plan was foolproof."

"Yeah," said Cooper. "You were supposed to swing from his dick, not fondle his cheeks."

Dave pushed himself up and rubbed the ache out of his own ass. "I saw an opportunity and I took it. I thought it would be better to push him into the pit and make a run for it. If we'd all pushed at the same time –"

"How could we all push at the same time when you didn't tell anyone that we were all supposed to push at the same time? You think we can read minds? Cooper can't even read fucking words!"

"Hey," said Cooper. "Don't take this shit out on me. This is Dave's fault!"

Tim nodded and held up his hands. "I'm sorry. You're right."

Dave wiped a clump of shit off his forehead and flung it on the ground between Cooper and Tim. "How the hell is this –"

"We need to get the fuck out of here," said Tim, scratching his head in thought and completely ignoring Dave. "Who knows when Furgal's sons are going to come home?"

"We might have more pressing concerns," said Julian. "Or at least more immediate, depending on when they arrive."

"What could possibly be weighing on your mind more heavily than us getting raped to death by giants?" Tim looked right, then left, then up, then back at Julian. "If this is about your goddamn bird gone missing again, Furgal's sons are going to have to pull my foot out of your ass before they have their way with you."

"Ravenus is fine. I told him to fly off while Furgal was beating Hollingsworth to death."

"So what's this other great concern of yours?"

Julian looked away like he knew his answer wasn't going to be well received. "Rain."

"Are you fucking with me right now?" asked Tim. "Look at us! We are literally covered in shit. If there was ever a time we needed the gods to piss down some rain on us –"

"Oh shit, Julian's right." Dave suddenly knew where Julian was going with this.

Tim shook his head. "Unbelievable. You're more covered in shit than any of us. You're more shit than Dave right now, and you're actually worried about a little rain?"

"Rain doesn't just wash off shit. It washes off chalk."

Tim balled his fists like he was going beyond flabbergasted. He opened his mouth to speak, but realized their meaning before he uttered a word. "Okay, fair point. But I'm still more concerned about getting raped to death by giants."

"All we need to do is get out of a hole," said Dave. "How hard could this be?"

Tim looked annoyed. "If you've got any ideas, spit them out."

"We could get on each other's shoulders."

"That could get me out. Maybe Julian. Cooper, could you throw us that high?"

Cooper looked up at the edge of the pit. "I could get you up there with no problem. If I used my Barbarian Rage, I might be able to get Julian as well. No way I can hurl Dave's fat ass that high. So that's about the same as the shoulder idea."

"You've got a bunch of ranks in the Climb skill," said Tim. "Couldn't you climb out with a good enough roll?"

"I'm not fucking Spiderman. The wall is perfectly smooth. There's nothing to grab a hold of."

Dave began to feel uncomfortable that everyone was discussing a plan in which the best-case scenario left him here, alone, to be raped by giants. "There's still the matter of –"

"I've got it!" said Julian. He looked very excited. "Cooper throws me and Tim out of the pit. I'll summon a horse. We tie one end of a rope to the horse, and throw the other end down to you guys."

Tim narrowed his eyes at Julian. "Your plan involves a rope?"

"Yes."

"Then why not make up a plan involving a helicopter? It would be a lot more awesome, and no less impossible, considering we don't have either of those things."

"We could tie all our clothes together," suggested Dave.

Tim shook his head. "That wouldn't be nearly long enough, and standing around naked will send the wrong message to our rapists."

"Guys," said Julian. "I was thinking we might just try to find some rope. This is somebody's house, after all. How far-fetched does it seem that they'd have some rope lying around."

Dave sucked in air through his teeth. "That's pretty risky. If Furgal comes back and one of us is missing, we're not going to be unsupervised again. I think we should keep brainstorming."

"Ravenus!" said Julian in another revelatory exclamation.

Dave and Tim rolled their eyes.

"Right here, sir," said Ravenus, peeking over the edge of the pit. "What can I do for you?"

Julian looked up. "There you are. Are you okay?"

"A little bloated, perhaps. But my hangover seems to have gone." Ravenus looked at Julian, Dave, Cooper, and Tim. "You lot have looked better, if you don't mind me saying so. Smelled better, too."

"We were carried here in a bag of shit."

"That is unfortunate, sir."

"Listen, buddy. We need a really big favor."

"Anything, sir. It is my pleasure to serve you."

"We need you to find us a rope."

"A rope, sir?"

"Yes. Or a chain, or a cord, or anything rope-like. Even a vine might do in a pinch."

Ravenus scratched at the ground with one talon. "I'll do my best, but –" He stopped scratching and his jet black bird eyes seemed to light up. "I know just the thing! I'll be right back!" He stretched out his big black wings and flew off before anyone could react.

"Excellent," said Julian. "Now we just hope he comes back before –"

A familiarly thunderous crash of rocks came from behind them. Dave turned around just in time to see Furgal's giant dick hurtling down toward him like a Tomahawk missile. He shielded his face with both arms until he felt the ground shake under the giant's feet. Thankfully, he didn't feel a big cock-slap to the head as well.

Behind Furgal sat his extremely durable leather sack, bulging again with what sounded like rocks when he'd tossed it in before he jumped in himself. Was that to be taken as a warning?

"Have you made yourselves comfortable?"

"Quite, thank you," said Julian before Tim or Cooper could answer honestly.

"Excellent." Furgal sat on his sack of stones. "I saw my sons approaching from the east horizon. They should be here momentarily."

Dave held in a whimper and hoped Julian could work some Diplomacy or horse-based miracle.

"Have they been out working?" asked Julian. "Or perhaps in school?"

Now who's hoping they're eight-year-olds?

Furgal scratched the back of his neck and sighed. "My sons and I do not see eye to eye on many things. They lead a queer lifestyle of which I do not approve."

"And you shouldn't!" Dave blurted out.

"Dave!" Julian whispered harshly. "Don't –"

"No!" Dave cut him off. Do you not realize that I'm only trying to save our asses? In the most literal sense of the phrase? "You are right to disapprove. That goes against the will of the gods."

Furgal's face scrunched up in confusion like rippled lava rock. "Against the will of the gods? I don't see how –"

"With all due respect, sir. I am a cleric."

"Do you have children, dwarven cleric?"

Dave shook his head and muttered, "No." He heard the distinct sound of a facepalm coming from Julian's direction and realized he'd just missed out on an opportunity to foster empathy between them. "I mean –"

"John and John are identical twins, you see."

"Both named John?" Tim asked.

"That is correct."

"Then how do you tell them apart?"

"I do not have to, for they are both named John." Furgal tapped his temple as if showing off his own cleverness.

Tim shrugged. "That's as far as I give a shit."

"They were named for their mother," Furgal continued. "She died while giving birth to them. Stone giant twins are a rarity, as they are quite large individually. Passing just one through the... orifice... can be a traumatic experience."

"You don't fucking say," Tim muttered under his breath.

"Would you shut up!" whispered Julian. "You're going to get us all killed."

"That's kinda what I'm going for at this point."

"Raising two sons alone is no easy task. Perhaps I indulge them too much, but I find it best to let them seek their own path while giving what guidance I can."

"This goes beyond indulgence," said Dave. "You are setting those boys up for an eternity of damnation, suffering in the deepest pits of Hell!"

Furgal squinted at him. "What god, exactly, did you say you are a cleric of?"

"I, um..."

"Father?" called a booming voice from inside the house. It did not sound like the voice of an eight-year-old. "Where are you?"

"I'm out back," Furgal called back to his son. "Come, both of you. I have a gift for you."

After some heavy and swift footsteps that sounded like garbage trucks falling out of the sky, two massive shadows blocked out the sun, followed by a seismic crash which knocked Dave back down on his ass. When the dust settled, two identical stone-skinned men stood next to their father.

The one on the left, presumably John, wore a yellow toga, whereas the one on the right, presumably also John, wore a pink toga. Each of them had a leather satchel slung over their shoulders. Their faces were identical to each other, but different enough from their father's such that Dave thought he could see some of their mother in them. They gawked down at Dave and his companions with wide-eyed wonder.

"What are they?" said John.

"Can we keep them?" said John.

Furgal smiled kindly and placed his hands on his sons' shoulders. "They're yours as long as they last. Now take off those ridiculous clothes."

The two Johns hung their heads. "Yes, father."

As they set their satchels on the ground and pulled off their colorful togas, Dave crab-crawled back to his friends. He noticed that Furgal looked anxious at the sight of his sons' listless obedience.

Furgal's gaze suddenly met Dave's, and Dave was unable to conceal his terror, both at having been directly stared at and by the size of the Johns' now exposed Johnsons. If anything, they were even bigger than their father's.

Furgal disengaged with Dave and addressed his sons. "Listen, lads. Our new guests appear to be nervous. Perhaps, before your training begins, you might ease their minds with a song?"

The Johns' eyes lit up.

"Do you mean it, father?"

"Oh, thank you!"

"Yes!" cried Julian. "We'd love to hear a song." He nudged Dave. "Wouldn't we?"

Dave nodded vigorously. "Absolutely. We love songs."

John on the left reached down for his satchel, but stopped. He stood straight again and frowned. "We have played much today, and I feel I should clean my pipes before performing."

"No!" cried Tim. "Just sing us a goddamn song!" Anything to stall for a few minutes and hope that the three of them had simultaneous heart attacks.

"You are right, brother," said John on the right. "And I must rub my horn with oil."

Cooper groaned. "At least that's a step in the right direction."

"Sorry, lads," said Furgal. "We've no time for that. I must finish preparing supper, and you must begin your training."

"Oh, come on, man!" said Dave. "Have a heart. At least let him rub his horn with oil."

Furgal crossed his arms and glared down at Dave. "Was it not you, dwarf, who suggested I was being overindulgent?"

"But surely it doesn't take but a minute to let the boys oil their horns." If they oiled them well enough, there was always the chance they might clean their pipes prematurely.

"Only John needs to oil his horn," said John on the left. "I must clean my pipes."

Dave grimaced. "Yeah. You mentioned that already. I'm just saying, as a matter of courtesy –"

Julian put his hand on Dave's shoulder to shut him up. "May we see your horn?"

"Dude," said Cooper. "Are you fucking blind?"

"Father?" said John on the right.

Furgal sighed. "Very well. Make it quick."

John reached into his satchel and pulled out a hollowed animal horn with holes bored into the side. He held it up for Dave and his friends to see. "I made it myself. This is real dragonhorn."

"And here are my pipes," said John on the left. "They're made of real... bamboo."

Furgal shook his head. "Stone giants who wish to be bards. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Playtime is over. Put down your toys and pick up a stone."

The Johns quickly put their instruments on the ground and grabbed stones from their father's sack.

"So..." Julian spoke up. "What, exactly, is our role in your sons' training?"

"You are to be moving targets, of course."

Dave exhaled a long sigh of relief. "That's so much better than –"

Julian slapped him in the side of the head.

"FUCK!" said Tim, leaping out of the way of a stone as it whirred past Dave's head.

"Doof!" said Cooper when the stone hit him in the gut, sending him five feet backward and landing him on his back.

"Moving targets!" Furgal scolded John on the right. "If we wanted to practice with stationary targets, there are enough of those lying around all over E'cha. I went to a lot of trouble to acquire these people. It's all for nothing if you kill them before you get any practice."

"Sorry, father."

Julian knelt next to Cooper. "Are you okay?"

"Awesome," said Cooper. He raised his hand with a thumbs up and called out, "Nice shot, John!"

Furgal nodded. "Good. Now help your friend up, and all of you start running."

Dave and Julian pushed the stone off Cooper's bruised belly and helped him to his feet. Tim was already at the wall farthest from the stone giants.

SMASH!

A stone exploded against the wall where Tim's head had just been a half-second before.

"Jesus Christ!" cried Tim, running along the bottom of the wall as fast as he could.

"The littlest one is quick," observed John on the right.

Dave, Julian, and Cooper ran for the far wall. Cooper and Julian were a lot faster than Dave, making him the easiest target by far. Fortunately, it appeared as though the Johns were trying to impress their father with more difficult targets. Stone shrapnel exploded against the wall at points clearly intended for Julian, Cooper, and Tim, but none of them scored a direct hit.

THUNK!

Just when Dave was about to reach the wall, a force like God's own pool cue hit his backplate, slamming him face first into the meticulously polished wall.

Between that and the hard ass-landing from jumping into the pit before, Dave thought he deserved a Cure Light Wounds spell.

He touched his temple. "I heal thee." After a brief moment of agony, when his spine restructured itself, Dave was feeling back to not horribly shitty.

"Very good, boys," said Furgal. "I must finish supper now. Keep practicing until the sack is empty. I'll call you when supper's ready."

After Furgal retreated into the house, the rocks kept flying. Julian and Tim managed not to get hit very much, due to their smaller body styles and higher Dexterity scores. Cooper got hit enough times for Dave to use up one of his Cure Light Wounds spells on him. And Dave, of course, got knocked around like a tin can being kicked by a group of kids in a schoolyard.

When the last of his spells was gone, Dave kept a wary eye on the sack, hoping it ran out of rocks before he ran out of Hit Points.

Fortunately, for Dave anyway, the Johns focused their last few efforts at Tim, who had proven the hardest to hit, being the tiniest and nimblest. Surprisingly enough, Tim seemed to be enjoying it. He taunted the stone giants, grabbing his crotch and giving them the finger just before tumbling out of the way of a flying stone. There was every chance one of the Johns could roll a Natural 20 and splatter the wall in halfling paste, but it was still so much better than being torn in half by stone giant cock.

Finally, the sack was empty, and they were all still alive. Sweaty, out of breath, covered in stone dust, and unsure whether or not they'd survive another round, but still alive.

"We should try to get these guys on our side," Dave whispered when he got close enough for the others to hear. "Convince them to let us go."

Tim threw a chipped piece of rock at Dave's head. "I'm sure that'll go over just as well as that Pat Robertson bullshit you tried to sell on their father."

"Yeah," said Cooper. "That was kinda fucked up."

"I was trying to... Never mind." Dave didn't have time to explain. "We've got to try something, right?"

The others nodded. Tim looked at Dave. "But Julian does all the talking. He's got the highest Charisma score, and you've already demonstrated that you suck."

"Fine."

They walked over to John and John, who were folding their togas and packing them into their satchels.

"You boys did well out there," said Julian.

"Thank you," said John. Dave wasn't sure which one. "You made some impressive dodges."

Julian shrugged. "I did my best. But did you ever stop and think that the reason we're still alive right now is that your hearts just aren't in rock throwing?"

The John's looked at each other, then back down at Julian. "Your words are true. Our real passion is music."

"That's what I've come to understand. I hope to get to hear you play."

Dave was getting impatient. Julian had just missed an opportunity to steer the conversation to their asshole of a father. It was wise to let Julian continue to do the talking, but a little nudge in the right direction couldn't hurt anything.

"But your father discourages your musical ambitions, does he?"

Tim and Julian flashed glares at him.

John frowned. "He does not believe there to be a prosperous future in music for two stone giants. He says the world is a cruel and dangerous place, and we would do better to spend our time learning how to defend ourselves and our people."

Dave felt a pinprick of cold on his forearm. He looked down and saw a drop of water had landed there.

Shit.

Looking up, he saw that dark clouds were rolling in from the west. It was already starting.

"Your dad sounds like he really cares about you two," said Julian.

"Bullshit!" Dave blurted out. The clock was ticking and they needed to get out of here pronto. "You can't let that old bastard stomp all over your dreams! A bard from our homeland said that you only get one shot. One opportunity. One... I forget. Something about spaghetti."

Other John pointed sternly at Dave. "You shall not speak dishonorably about our father."

"Yeah, Dave," said Tim. "Why don't you try not speaking at all."

Dave felt the chill of another raindrop on the back of his neck. "He speaks dishonorably of you! He told me that he thinks you're a couple of queers!"

"DAVE!" shrieked Tim. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

"You need to stand up to him," Dave continued. "Every minute you waste throwing rocks at us is one minute you could have been practicing your art, one more minute between you and your dream."

John rubbed his chin, causing a rough grinding sound. "There is logic in your words."

Dave smirked at Julian. You're not the only one who can use Diplomacy, it seems. Then he looked back at one of the Johns. "You need to let him know you mean business. Let him know you really mean it with an act of defiance."

The two Johns looked at one another, then back at Dave. "What sort of act of defiance would you suggest?"

They were putty in Dave's hands.

"You set us free, of course. Then you go in there and tell him your rock-throwing days are over."

Both of the Johns took a moment to scratch their heads in thought.

Julian, Tim, and Cooper looked genuinely surprised. Julian especially so. Dave gestured to the Johns, welcoming Julian to take the lead if he had any diplomatic ideas to nudge them over to their side of the fence.

Julian opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he started to say was drowned out by Furgal's voice from inside the house.

"John! John! Supper's ready!"

The twins grabbed their satchels and tossed them out of the pit, hurriedly climbing up after them.

"Wait!" cried Dave. "Aren't you going to let us out of here?"

One of the Johns looked down at him. "We cannot betray our father. But we shall discuss what you said over supper."

"No! Don't do that!" Dave looked frantically around the pit for something to hold their attention a little longer, and found the pipes and horn lying on the ground. "You forgot your instruments!"

Too little too late. They were already back inside the house.

"What the fuck was that, Dave?" asked Tim. "Would it kill you to keep your big hairy face shut for five goddamn minutes?"

Dave backed away from his friends, who all looked like they wanted to kick his ass. "I felt raindrops. I started to panic."

"I was finessing the conversation with my Diplomacy skill," said Julian. "It's a subtle art. You can't just bring up turning on their father like that. You have to ease them into it and let them think it's their idea."

"That's bullshit. You saw their faces. They were thinking about it. I had them on the ropes!"

Cooper stopped advancing. "Speaking of ropes, where the fuck is your bird, Julian?"

Julian looked skyward. "There he is!"

Dave followed his gaze, and was immediately struck in the face with a pile of something snakelike and slimy. He danced and screamed and tried to fling it away, but the creature clung to his arms, face, and chest. "Get it off! Get it off! Get it –"

"Dave!" said Tim. "Chill the fuck out for a second."

Dave did his best to chill the fuck out while Cooper pulled the sticky creature off of Dave, letting it fall into a purple pile of slime-rope at his feet.

He was still shaking as he pointed down at the veiny bloody mess. "What in the fuck is that?"

Julian turned around to face Ravenus, who had perched atop the narrow end of John's horn. "Ravenus, where did you get that?"

"From the gentleman we traveled here with, sir. Sorry it took me so long. I had to brush the dirt off his body with naught but my wings. Then, of course, there was some digging and cutting to be done. My talons weren't made for this kind of precision work, but I did my best."

Tim stepped back from the pile of gore. "Oh man, that's so gross."

Julian ran his fingers through his hair. "We can't use this, Ravenus. It's too slippery to climb."

"It will dry out in time, sir." Ravenus looked up at the darkening sky. "Then again, it does look like rain."

"Shit!" said Dave. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

"What's going on?" asked Cooper, who was unable to understand the Elven tongue.

Dave pointed at the gore pile. "That's Hollingsworth's intestines."

Cooper raised his eyebrows. "Goddamn. That bird is one savage motherfucker when he wants to be."

"THEY SAID WHAT?" boomed Furgal from inside the house.

"Oh shit," said Dave.

Julian gestured for Ravenus to fly away. Ravenus took off.

"Cover it up!" said Tim. "We're in deep enough shit as it is without having to explain a pile of intestines on the ground."

Dave brushed dirt over Hollingsworth's bowels. Being all slimy and sticky, the dirt clung pretty well, and he soon had what looked like an innocuous pile of grey dirt.

"You!" Furgal pointed at Dave from the edge of the pit nearest the house.

Dave stumbled backwards. Why was this guy always singling him out?

Furgal jumped down into the pit, his feet landing hard on either side of John's upturned horn. "What deceit have you been filling my sons' heads with?"

"I didn't," whimpered Dave. "I haven't... It wasn't me!"

Furgal stomped angrily toward Dave. "How dare you accuse me of – Wha!" He slipped on Hollingsworth's intestines, causing him to fall backward. His head came down even harder on John's horn, the narrow end of which burst out of his right eye socket.

"Holy fucking shit," said Cooper.

Tim shook his head. "We are so fucked."

"Father?" called one of the Johns.

"Hurry up," Tim said to Julian. "Distract them. We can't let them see this."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Something diplomatic. Just hurry before they –"

"NO!" cried John.

"FATHER!" cried other John.

"Fuck," muttered Tim.

The two Johns jumped down into the pit, both glaring at Dave. "What have you done?"

"I didn't. It was an accident. I..." Only then did he realize that he was once again covered in Hollinigsworth's bowels, flung at him when Furgal slipped. This did not lend credibility to his argument.

"You murdered our father!"

Dave flung the intestines down and gambled their lives on an untrained Bluff check. "I did no such thing! That goes against my oath as a Master Healer."

Cooper snorted. "What the fuck is he –"

Julian elbowed Cooper.

"In fact," Dave continued, "I'm the only one standing between your father's life and death. But I'm going to need your help."

The two Johns halted their threatening advance, tears welling up in their eyes. "What can we do?"

"First, prop him up against that wall."

"Um..." said Cooper. "Isn't that exactly the opposite of what you're supposed to do in these situations?"

"Shut up, Cooper!" said Dave, Julian, and Tim.

The two Johns lifted their father by the upper arms and dragged him back to the wall, where they sat him upright against it.

"Now I'll need some damp towels."

"We have no towels," said John.

"Use your togas," Dave snapped at them. "I'll also need some boiling water, a needle and some thread."

John cradled his head in his hands. "I fear we don't have the necessary –"

Other John grabbed his brother by the arm. "Mother's old sewing kit. Father said he could never bear to throw it away."

First John wiped his tears away. "Their love goes beyond the grave. She is here in spirit, to save our father's life!"

"Time is a factor here," said Dave. "You must hurry!"

John and John climbed out of the pit and ran into the house.

Cooper wiped a tear away from his own eye. "Did anybody else get chills from that?"

"Hurry up!" said Dave. "We have to get out of here before they get back."

Tim needed no such invitation. He was on top of Furgal's head before Dave had finished his sentence. With a little boost from Julian, he was able to climb out of the pit. Julian grabbed the edge and climbed out after him.

Dave climbed as far up as he could, but wasn't going to be able to reach the edge of the wall without Cooper's help.

"Dude," said Cooper. "What about Furgal?"

"He's got a horn through his fucking brain. He'd dead as shit. Help me out of here."

Cooper shook his head. "You're a cold son of a bitch, Dave." He climbed up onto Furgal's shoulders. "I'm really angry."

Cooper's Barbarian Rage took immediate effect, bulging out his muscles and reddening his eyes. It was off-putting, and when he reached for Dave, Dave wasn't sure that Cooper wasn't going to kick his ass.

With a grunt, Cooper hefted Dave out of the pit, then climbed out after him. With a prolonged fart, his body came out of Rage and deflated back down to its normal size.

"Horse!" said Julian, then repeated the incantation, producing two riding horses, one white and the other brown. "These are my last two spells for the day. We'll have to double up."

Cooper lifted Dave onto the back of Julian's horse, squatted down to let Tim ride piggyback, then hopped onto the other horse.

"Should we soak our togas in warm water or cold –" John stepped out the back door and locked eyes with Dave.

"Horses, go!" cried Julian.

"Warm," Dave shouted as the horses bolted forward, in the off chance the Johns were dumber than Cooper. They weren't.

"John!" said John. "Come quick! They're getting away." He gave chase with his brother following shortly after. They weren't as fast as the horses, but they were making a commendable effort.

Dave's ass was taking a pounding bouncing up and down on Julian's horse, but when he considered the ass-pounding he'd been expecting to take, he couldn't complain.

"Does anyone know which way the portal is?" he shouted over the wind and hooves.

"No!" said Julian. "Wait... Ravenus knows. Ravenus!"

"Right here, sir!" Ravenus took up a wingman position to the right of Julian's galloping horse.

"Which way is the portal that we traveled through?"

"Almost exactly in the opposite direction, sir."

"Shit." Julian called out to Cooper. "We're going the wrong direction!"

Cooper shouted back something that Dave couldn't quite make out except that it had to do with his mom.

"We'll have to circle around!" Julian shouted louder.

Cooper laughed and made a jerking off gesture. Tim slapped him in the back of the head and shouted directly in his ear, at which point Cooper nodded and gave Julian the thumbs up.

Julian guided his horse to the left, narrowly avoiding a thrown rock. Once they completed the turn, Dave had a much better view of the two Johns. His limited ability to dodge flying rocks while on horseback didn't make that much of an advantage.

The twins changed course and began to close the gap between themselves and the horses. They'd probably get within medium throwing range. While horses were faster than any of them, they traveled in a predictable trajectory, and the combination of two people and a horse made for a much larger target than one individual person.

The only bright side that Dave could see was that the Johns were currently unarmed, and would have to scavenge for suitable rocks to throw. There were plenty of rocks lying around on the ground, but the rocks their father had been training them with were all pretty uniform in size and shape. Too big a rock, and they wouldn't be able to throw it. Too small, and their aim might be off.

"There it is, sir!" cried Ravenus, pulling ahead of Julian's horse to take the lead.

The black clouds had moved directly overhead now, and the harder rain had arrived with them. Dave hoped that the horses, being magical in nature, would be less prone to slipping. But his experience with Julian's summoned horses told him that probably wasn't the case.

One of the Johns found a suitable rock, and Dave braced himself for impact. He might have enough Hit Points in him to survive being hit by another rock, but he didn't like his odds of surviving that combined with being thrown off a speeding horse.

Dave squeezed Julian around the waist. "Hurry up, man! He's got another rock!"

"I'm going as fast as I can."

When Dave looked again, he saw that the John with the rock was focused on Cooper's horse. He breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed his grip on Julian.

"What's happening?" asked Julian. "Is everything okay now?"

"No," said Dave. "I, um... just farted."

Twisting his thick dwarven neck around as far as it would twist, Dave was barely able to make out Cooper's horse just as the flying rock smashed into the side of its head.

"Shit!" shouted Cooper as the horse winked out of existence beneath him. He must have been prepared for it, or made a hell of a Reflex Save, as he hit the ground running with Tim still clinging onto his back.

The rain was coming down hard now, and Dave feared they might be too late. "Tell Ravenus to fly through the portal."

Julian looked back at Dave with a disapproving glare.

"Come on, man! If he slams face first into solid rock, that will be the least of his problems once those giants catch up to us!"

Julian nodded, then faced forward again. "Ravenus! Fly through the portal!"

"Right-O, sir!" Ravenus obeyed with unflinching faith in Julian.

Dave flinched though, as his faith was not so solid as the bird zoomed kamikaze-style right at the center of the chalk drawn diagram. Even from where he was, he could see the magical green chalk beginning to streak down the stone.

"Slow down, Ravenus!" cried Julian. "You don't have to go so –" But he was too late. Ravenus disappeared into the rock.

Julian and Dave made it to the portal stone with plenty of time to spare. Cooper, horseless and carrying Tim, would have a closer race against the stone giants. That was, of course, unless they stopped to pick up stones.

The Johns found a nice pile of stones about thirty yards away from the portal. The portal was ten feet off the ground, which made anyone climbing up to it essentially a stationary target for a couple of rounds.

"You go first," said Dave, telling himself he was acting selflessly as he crouched behind Julian's parked horse.

Julian was dancing from side to side, presumably to keep himself recognized as a moving target. "No, you'd better go first. You're slow and heavy. You'll be in everyone's way when Cooper and Tim get here."

What an asshole. Dave was about to object when his horse cover disappeared, replaced by a stone that fell straight to the ground in front of him.

"Fine!" Dave ducked, leaped, and pirouetted as well as any dwarf could be expected to on his way to the large stone under the portal. Finding handholds and footholds suitable to his height, he began to climb. He'd almost reached the top when he heard Julian shout.

"Dave! Watch out!"

Dave looked back just in time to see a rock flying at his head. He ducked, and felt the disrupted air as the rock swooshed over him. Curiously, it made no crashing sound. Dave didn't have too long to ponder that, as the other John's rock hit him square in the backplate.

"Ugh!" he said as he was squashed between flying stone and stationary rock. When his mind was able to process more than Ugh, he realized he was no longer holding onto the wall.

"Ugh," he repeated when he landed on the ground.

"Goddammit, Dave!" said Cooper, nearly tripping over him. "Get the fuck out of the way!" He grabbed Tim off his back with both hands and hurled him, screaming obscenities, through the portal.

"Ow!" said Cooper as a stone hit him in the ass. He bent over and linked his fingers together to make a step for Julian, then hoisted him up until he was able to start crawling through the portal.

While Cooper's arms were raised, one of the Johns took advantage of his undefended belly. A flying stone to the gut sent ripples radiating outward.

"Fuuuuuuck," groaned Cooper as he shat, once again, on Dave's face.

Dave spat some shit out of his mouth. "Son of a... Fuck it. Just help me up, will you?"

Cooper grabbed Dave's arm, pulled him up to his feet, then lifted him up by the waist until Dave was able to grab the bottom edge of the portal and help lift himself through it. Two sets of hands, hopefully Julian and Tim's, grabbed his wrists and pulled him the rest of the way through.

The tavern was full of smoke and shouting.

"What's going on?" asked Dave.

"The rock that flew through busted a bunch of liquor bottles behind the bar," said Tim. "It must have caught on a torch or candle or something. Looks like they got it mostly under control now. Where's Cooper?"

"He should be right behind –" Dave fell face down on the table as Cooper's head came through the portal and into his ass.

"Everyone's here now," said Julian. "Good. Let's move casually toward the front door while everyone is still distracted by the fire."

As it turned out, walking casually through a burning building kind of makes a group stand out.

"HEY!" said the half-orc behind the bar who looked like he'd put a lifetime's worth of skill points into the Asskicking skill. "You're the ones who threw up all over the place earlier, then left without paying your tab."

"Fuck," said Dave.

"Funny thing, sir," said Julian. "Our friend who was with us was supposed to pay the tab."

Tim looked down and shook his head. "That was the most piss-poor attempt at Diplomacy I've ever heard."

The bartender produced a meat cleaver from under the bar. It was worth noting that this establishment didn't offer a lot of snacks on the menu for such a tool to be so readily at hand. He hopped over the bar and sneered at them. "And where is this friend now? He's got quite a bit to pay for."

One of the Johns erupted onto the scene like he'd taken a running dive through the portal.

"There he is," said Julian.

"Mercy of the gods!" cried the bartender as John pulled himself out of the booth. He took a reactionary swing with his meat cleaver, catching John in his great stony forehead. It left a nasty gash, pouring crimson blood down the giant's dusty, tear-streaked face, but appeared to have little effect outside of further pissing him off.

"At least now people will be able to tell them apart," said Cooper.

Dave grabbed Cooper and Julian's wrists and tugged them toward the front entrance. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Julian hesitated. "Where's Tim?"

"Over here!" called Tim. He was on top of the bar, at the end closest to the exit, holding a half-drunk bottle of beer, probably from someone who had gone to help put out the fire. "Let's go!"

The atmosphere outside the tavern was chaotic. People were shouting, "Fire!" A few others were shouting, "Giants!" Kingsguard soldiers rushed past Dave and his friends to deal with the threat.

"Who's up for a drink?" asked Tim, just before sucking back the last of someone else's beer.

Everyone nodded.

"Whore's Head?" suggested Dave. Having no money on them, and being covered in shit, it seemed like the best option.

"Fuck that," said Tim. "I snagged some coin from the till. Wash the shit off your face in a puddle, and let's class it up a bit."