The adventurers had led Gamer Man through the city, wandering through the night.

"So, artificer," the bard said, "What's your origin?"

They had all, without speaking to each other, taken to calling him "Artificer." Gamer Man had told them that his name was Gamer Man, and for as much as they listened and agreed, they never learned. One moment, Gamer Man would remind the barbarian that his name is Gamer Man, the barbarian would tell Gamer Man that he understood, and then call him “Artificer.”

It was weird.

Gamer man had asked them for their names, and all he had gotten was “Barbarian,” “Wizard,” and “Bard.” After being pressed the bard grumbled “Blake” and told Gamer Man to shut his mouth.

“What do you mean?” Gamer Man asked.

“I mean, what was your call to adventure,” the bard explained, “Or, “superhero work” as you call it.”

“Well, one day I won the lottery,” Gamer Man said, “Then I trained to become a superhero. Then I built all this gear. Uh, my parents burned down in an orphan fire.”

“That’s rough,” the wizard said.

“I lost my mother,” the bard said, “I think that having a parental figure helps a lot with not growing up to be a frothing maniac, like you, barbarian.”

“Both my parents are alive,” the barbarian commented.

Gamer Man’s mind ground to a halt. A lot of people had asked him for his backstory, and he had always given the same answer. He won the lottery, then he trained to become a superhero, then he built all his gear. Then, to lighten the mood, he claimed his parents burned down in an orphan fire. Nobody ever believed a word of it, maybe it was the part with the orphan fire, Gamer Man wasn’t sure.

“They’re what?” the bard demanded, “I thought you came from a tribe of barbarians!”

“I did,” the barbarian explained, “And my parents were successful. When they grew old, they retired to a nice, lakeside cabin. They send me letters.”

“You can read?” Gamer Man asked.

“Please, every moment spent reading words is a moment not solving problems by putting an axe in them,” the barbarian gloated, “And, it turns out that trap runes don’t detonate if you don’t read them. Stupid people instinctively read words when they see them, this is a mistake. Of course I can’t read.”

“Then how do you know what the letters say?” Gamer Man asked.

“They’re pictures,” the barbarian explained, “They’re quite lovely. Bard, does your father ever write to you?”

“No,” the bard admitted.

“Heh, ya should’a been me,” the barbarian said.

“How do you receive letters?” the wizard asked, “I’ve never seen a letter apparate in front of you.”

“Mom and Dad have hired a courier to deliver their letters to me,” the barbarian said, “You know that guy who was tailing us across the Hell Kill Mountain Range?”

“He’s the mailman?” the bard asked.

“What- barbarian we were going to murder that guy!” the wizard shouted, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It didn’t seem important,” the barbarian said, “Plus, that mail man’s been through a lot. He’s had to follow us after all.”

“Hey, bard,” Gamer Man said, “If you don’t mind, how did your mom die?”

“I had to watch her get torn apart by wolves, hacked to pieces by bandits, and then buried alive,” the bard said, “Still, I’m glad she didn’t die in an orphan fire. That would have really messed me up.”

“Are you making fun of me?” Gamer Man asked.

“Woah- No!” the bard exclaimed, “I would never make fun of someone who’s parents burned down in an orphan fire!”

“Come on, even I wouldn’t stoop that low,” the barbarian said, “I call a lot of people a lot of things, but I’d never do that.”

“People who make fun of orphan fire victims are the worst,” the wizard said, “Worse than those half rat, half lizard people we met.”

“Man, they were ugly,” the bard said, “And they thought I was ugly! And that they were pretty!”

Were they making fun of him, Gamer Man thought? They seemed nice enough, but Gamer Man had enough sense to realize that the adventurers were still a group of complete strangers of unknown origin. They weren’t pod people, were they? Officially, pod people and clones didn’t exist, but Gamer Man had climbed high enough up the rungs of various superhero communities to be told that, officially, the Exigent Circumstances squad didn’t exist either.

“Well, where are you all from?” Gamer Man asked.

“No idea,” the wizard answered.

“What do you mean?” Gamer Man asked.

“Ooh, that’s complicated,” the bard said.

“Well, the long and short of it is that there’s an awful lot of wars back home,” the wizard said, “Boarders have been shoved, shuffled, boasted, broken, built up and torn down so often that keeping track of nations becomes really difficult. Even if whatever kingdom we all grew up in ever had a name, or still exists at all, I doubt anyone bothered to write it down.”

“That sounds,” Gamer Man said, “Awful.”

“You get used to it,” the barbarian said with a shrug, “Besides, nowadays power smoothly changes hands. Remember when we were trying to report to that one king for a quest?”

“And we finally turned the quest in at the castle dungeons,” the bard said, “You know wizard, I’m glad you remembered his name.”

“We can hardly go without pay,” the wizard said, “I simply wrote it down. Anyway, artificer, do you know where any villains are?”

“Well, there’s Wolfgang,” Gamer Man said, “Uh, I don’t think I’m ready to fight him, though.”

“Why not?” the bard asked.

“Because he’s really strong and tough?” Gamer Man guessed, taking a moment to fiddle with his phone, “I’ve gotta admit, I’m not really top tier. You survived Gorestrike, a Champion of Brass, and whatever that third thing was.”

“Who’s Gorestrike?” the barbarian asked.

“If you want to go around fighting supervillains, I don’t think I can keep up with you,” Gamer Man admitted.

“You’ll get stronger if you stick with us,” the barbarian said.

“We can, probably, keep you alive,” the wizard said.

“What do you mean you can “probably” keep me alive?” Gamer Man asked.

“Hold on,” the bard said, “Show of hands, who wants to adventure with artificer?”

The bard, the wizard, and Gamer Man raised their hands.

“Alright, if artificer isn’t as strong as us, then we need to be questing at his level,” the bard explained, “And if this Wolfgang person is too much for you, do you know of anyone else you could fight?”

“Well, there is Underland,” Gamer Man admitted, “They are bad, and we should stop them, but I don’t really want to fight them either.”

“Why not?” the barbarian asked, “You don’t have some kind of problem with fighting, do you?”

“It’s just,” Gamer Man trailed off, “They’re a gang of hideous mutants that set up a base underneath the city.”

“That doesn’t sound so-” the bard said.

“Their base is connected to the sewer,” Gamer Man said, “Most of it is the sewers.”

“So, we’re not doing that,” the barbarian said, “Sewer dungeons are the worst!”

“Oh, don’t even get me started on sewer levels!” Gamer Man said, “The smell-”

“Having to wade through knee deep puddles of waste-” the wizard said.

“Having to fight the most disgusting monsters imaginable-” the bard said.

“There’s never any loot-” Gamer Man said.

“The pay is always awful-” the barbarian said.

“The number of showers it takes to feel clean again-” Gamer Man said.

“Sewer traps-” the barbarian said.

“But!” Gamer Man declared, “We are heroes, and it does need to happen. Bard, you did say you were into righteous heroes."

Calling the bard by her name seemed to upset her. Gamer Man didn't know why, but he didn't mind.

"You're turning my words against me," the bard grumbled, "I'm supposed to do that to other people. How do we find these sewer goblins? Please don't say-"

"By going into the sewer, and searching for their lair," Gamer Man said.

"Can't we get them to come to us?" the barbarian asked, "I hate sewer dungeons!"

"That might not be a bad idea," Gamer Man said, "Bard, would you mind being the bait?"

"Do they use women as breeding stock?" the bard asked.

"That's-” Gamer Man sputtered, “Do people do that? That’s- that’s really grim.”

“I’ve met a couple groups that did that,” the bard said.

“I don’t- I don't think so, but they do tend to kidnap people," Gamer Man said, “I hope they don’t. That’d be all the wrong kinds of immersive.”

“Alright, so if we’re using the bard as bait,” the wizard said, “Where exactly do we lay our trap?”

“He said their base is connected to the sewer,” the barbarian said, “So really, we just need to find a way in there.”

“Oh! There’s a manhole cover right there!” Gamer Man said, pointing it out, “It’s a sewer entrance, so we should be able to use it.”

“Alright,” the bard said, tossing aside the sewer grate with one hand, “So, they should be down there?”

“Well, down there is a sewer,” Gamer Man said, “And their base is connected to the sewer, so yes?”

“Okay then.” the bard said. The bard peered down the manhole, her nose wrinkling in disgust as the stench of rot wafted up to her. She got down onto her hands and knees, her head just above the manhole.

“Attention all disgusting sewer goblins!” the bard declared, her voice full of power that echoed throughout the sewers, “I am the bard, the most beautiful woman there ever was, is, and will be! I hear you are hideous mutants, and I hate you! Exit your disgusting home now and face me in battle! Your bodies are weak, your minds are slow, your eyes are dull and your face is revolting! I hate what you look like, I hate what you sound like, I hate what you smell like, I hate the very thought of you!” Gamer Man felt the ground rumble beneath him.

“Are you done?” Gamer Man asked.

“Just a moment,” the bard said, her voice shifting to a relaxed cheer to speak to the artificer before returning to the sound of blood and thunder. “You will die by my hand! Bring as many of your putrid brethren as you wish, none of them can save you! All of you will fight, and all of you will be killed!”

“I think that’s plenty,” Gamer Man said, spiderweb cracks forming throughout the street.

"Excuse me, but are you a bard or an artificer?" the bard demanded, "Leave the talking to me."

"You insolent vermin!" the bard thundered, "Come out here and face me if you have any spine! You freaks dwell in the dark because you're scared of the sun! Scared of civilization! Scared of me! Scared of-"

The ground erupted in a shower of concrete, dirt and rubble as the leader of the Underlanders, Mikey, burst through the earth.

Nobody was really sure who or what Mikey was. Well, everybody knew what Mikey was, he was a massive, hideous, mutated abomination. His grotesque form stood twice as tall as the barbarian, an ugly, twisting heap of flesh with too many mouths and too many faces. Open sores oozed blood and bile while the mouths, if they could really be called that, coughed up bubbling acid. Four long, grasping arms extended from Mikey, set on the front, back, and sides of his body, while a misshapen pile of legs hauled his girth around.

“I’ve got plenty ‘a spine!” Mikey growled, his voice a deep, humorless rumble, “Three ‘a them, in fact! Now which of you’s is callin’ me ugly?”

Gamer Man said nothing, silently marking the smaller mutants that piled out of the crater on his visor. The marked targets showed up on the mini map in the upper corner of his visor. Gamer Man gave up marking targets when the circular map was a solid red.

“Wassit you?” Mikey demanded, pointing a gnarled hand at Gamer Man.

“No-” Gamer Man said, biting back a “Sir” of fear.

“It was me,” the bard declared, drawing her revolver.

“Heheh, this pretty little thing?” Mikey said, leering down at the bard, “Hah! You think a girlie as small as you is gonna beat a man as big as me?”

The barbarian bellowed, a roar so loud it crushed all other noise. He leapt at Mikey, and an underland mutant tried to tackle the barbarian out of the air, only to get swatted aside as the barbarian brought his axe up to bear. The axe tore into Mikey’s raised arm, bolts of electricity hissing and popping as the barbarian wrenched it loose. Putrid steam rose from Mikey’s many mouths, carrying the stench of burning acid, as the Underland mutants engaged the adventurers.

Gamer Man’s mind raced, and as he effortless dodged through five of the mutants he realized that his body was keep pace with his brain. Sparing a brief look at himself as he swatted away three attackers with his stun stick, Gamer Man found coils of purple and blue light tracing his body.

“Haste?” Gamer Man asked, calling out to the wizard.

The wizard nodded, casting the same spell over the barbarian and the bard. The momentary distraction allowed one of the mutants to tackle Gamer Man to the ground, but the wizard’s magic was so powerful that Gamer Man found time to push off the ground with one hand, elbow the mutant off him as he fell, and pull his feet under him before touching the ground.

That, Gamer Man knew, was insane.

As the barbarian hacked chunks of blubber off of Mikey, the giant mutant erupted, his mouths showering the area in a torrential cascade of acid. The barbarian leapt clear of the shower, the bard had to grab Gamer Man to drag him away, and the wizard warped to the bard. The adventurers watched the concrete and asphalt liquify as Mikey’s acid touched it.

“Did any of that touch you?” the bard asked Gamer Man.

“No,” Gamer Man said, still in a daze from the carnage.

“I’m not losing this axe to that acid,” the barbarian said.

"I'm not losing my stuff either," the bard said, “I just got all of this.”

"My gear is actually really expensive," Gamer Man said, "I don't know if I can afford all of this again."

"Don't worry," the wizard said, "I'm following procedure."

The wizard held his hands out, pretending to hold Mikey in them. He clapped his hands shut, and a burst of smoke appeared around Mikey.

"What's all this then?" Mikey grumbled, "You think tear gas is gonna- Hey! Why's my voice getting higher? What's happening to me?"

The wizard pulled his hands apart, the smoke clearing. Where the heap of Mikey once stood, there was a short, scrawny looking teenage boy with curly, ginger hair.

"Hey barbarian," Gamer Man said, "I don't want to sound rude, but magic is so cool."

"What did you do to me?" Mikey demanded, his voice a shrill squawk, "What did you do to my perfect body?"

"The wizard merely compacted it," the barbarian said, striding through the remaining mutants, "Don't worry, you're still just as tough as before."

"Don't come closer!" Mikey demanded, pointing a finger at the barbarian, "I'm warning you! You can't boss me around just because you're bigger than me!"

"You did that to us," one of the Underland mutants said.

"That, uh, magic," another mutant said, "Do you have any more of it?"

"Of course," the wizard said, "I think returning you all to human forms would be a job for cleric."

"Well," the mutant continued, "I know this sounds weird, but I used to look exactly like your lady friend."

"No, Hank, you didn't," a third mutant said.

"Don't ruin this for me," Hank the mutant growled.

"If you ever put in the time and effort to look like me," the bard said, "You would never have turned into that."

"Come on then," the barbarian said, standing over Mikey, "Take your swing."

Mikey punched the barbarian, aiming high to hit his stomach. Mikey's wrist rolled painfully as the punch all but bounced off the barbarian.

"You-" Mikey said, cradling his arm, "You said I was still strong!”

“Nah, I said you were still tough,” the barbarian explained, “Strength and toughness aren’t the same thing.”

The barbarian swung his axe into Mikey, leaving a shallow cut running up Mikey’s body as he flew backwards and slammed through a brick wall.

“Ow!” Mikey cried, clutching his head.

“See?” the barbarian said, stalking after Mikey, “Just as tough as you were before!”

“Wait a second,” Gamer Man said, “Are we really going to start griefing him just cause he’s toxic? Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, arrest him?”

“What?” the bard asked.

“About that,” Hank the mutant said, “Mikey tormented us for years. I don’t care if he’s a little kid now, I’m not letting him walk away from this.”

“I’m really not comfortable with dunking on some kid,” Gamer Man said.

“Listen, artificer,” the bard said, “This is something you need to get over. Eventually, you’re going to be standing over some poor, defenseless, quivering goblin, and you start thinking “How evil could this goblin possibly be? Either you put a knife in his gut, or he’ll come back to put a knife in yours.”

“It’s true,” the wizard said.

“Hey, Gamer Man,” Hank the mutant said, “Mikey puked acid onto me. A lot. And he ate people. I’m going to repay the favor. Just cause he’s some kid doesn’t mean he’s not Mikey.”

“I don’t- I don’t think I can do this,” Gamer Man admitted.

The look of disappointment on the bard’s face was painful to look at. When the bard noticed this, she softened her face just a touch. Gamer Man could hardly believe his own words.

“You really can’t come with us?” the bard asked.

“This-” Gamer Man said, “It’s just a sadistic beating!”

“Then I don’t think you’re ready to adventure with us,” the bard said, sighing in frustration “Would you still be able to craft me some armor?”

“Uh, sure,” Gamer Man said, “I’ll need your measurements, a design, a material list, and payment. Oh! And if you’re not going to stick around, I’ll need some way to contact you.”

“That could be complicated,” the wizard admitted.

“Uh, I can give you this,” Gamer Man said, passing a cheap cell phone to the bard, “You dial this number here to call me. I’ll call you when the armor is done. What can you pay me with?”

“Here,” the bard said, passing a gold ingot to Gamer Man, “I’ll contact you later with the design I have in mind.”

“This- uh, this should be enough to get me started,” Gamer Man said, stowing the bar in his utility pouch, “I guess I’ll see you later. Good luck and have fun.”

“Thanks,” the wizard said.

Gamer Man flew away with his grapple gun, and the small army of mutants turned towards the adventurers. The barbarian, Hank, and a small handful of the Underlanders were busy beating Mikey into an ever growing crater.

“So, you said that someone called “the cleric” can turn us human again?” a mutant said.

“She can,” the bard explained, “If you’ll follow us, we can lead you to her. Wizard, send a message to cleric, tell her to meet us at the base.”