Milc/C.J. Milnes
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Chapter 36 - A damn good thrashing
🕑 Added 2025-06-26 16:39:28 +0000 UTC“Bob! For the love of god! Stop!” Tex hissed. It sounded like his teeth were clenched shut. I had been taking a note out of dear Kat’s b
“Bob! For the love of god! Stop!” Tex hissed. It sounded like his teeth were clenched shut. I had been taking a note out of dear Kat’s book and aiming for low blows as much as possible. “Bright Master… give him back the light…”
“I welcome you among the illuminated,” gasped a strangled voice from just above my right hand. The blindfold fell away, and I blinked as my vision came back, the sudden brightness a cold shower after the gloom of moments ago. I held a florid gentleman by the throat in my right hand, and a short woman dangled from her ankle in my left as I swished her back and forth to keep these stick-wielding weirdos away from me.
“Jesus lady! Why are you going commando?” I barked as I dropped her unceremoniously to the ground.
“Bob, put the Bright master down as well, please!” gasped Tex. I glanced over to see that he was curled in a pile by the door, clutching at his privates and sweating profusely.
I set the big boss Bulb-dude down gently. I was impressed with how strong I had become after that last Increase Mass evolution.
The dozen or so members of the lodge were largely collapsed against the walls, clutching at whatever part of themselves I’d beaten in my determination not to be treated like a piñata by these loonies.
“Brother Tex, I’m afraid we must beat the darkness out of you once more! You should have warned us about his strength!” This came from the woman I’d been holding by her ankle. She scowled prettily at Tex, and the guy didn’t seem too worried about the prospective punishment. He nodded with obviously false reluctance.
“Yes, Glow Mistress,” he muttered guiltily. Fucking weirdos. Was any religion in this world not… I cut myself off. Never knew who was listening inside your own head these days. “Bob, show the Bright Master the token you got from the Illuminated One.”
I fished around in my pocket and flicked the token I’d received from Bulb to the dude I’d had by the throat a moment ago. I’d described him as florid in my head before due to the amazing array of colourful splotches on his face. Now he could breathe freely again; the pinks, blues, and purples were fading, leaving him with pudgy, red-tinged cheeks. In a surprisingly deft movement, his left hand plucked the coin from the air, and he narrowed his bespectacled eyes at it. His glasses had somehow stayed on his face despite my uncouth response to the ritual spanking.
“Brother Tex, if you’d mentioned this before, we could have saved ourselves a lot of… indignification!”
“I’m not sure that’s a word, mate. So am I in Bulb’s club or not?” A couple of those switches had landed solid enough blows on my head that my mood was somewhat sour. The destruction of my expensive drink had also pissed me off. “I’d like a refill on the Golden Jack, as well. Please.” I said please, but my tone made clear it wasn’t a request. The Bright Master nodded at one of the lesser brothers, whose apron had plainer embroidery than the bigwigs. He headed for the door with a grim look on his face. I guessed that the noobs got to pay for the refills.
“Fetch him the apron!” Bright Master intoned in a voice like thunder. He’d got his mojo back after nearly being choked out. “As one chosen by the Lord of the Switch himself, I am pleased to induct you into our Order as a Bright Spark. May your light linger and hold the Dark at bay.” He bowed his head. I nodded back amiably.
One of the lesser cultists, for that was what I had now concluded they were, opened a cabinet to one side of the room. I noticed there was an altar, to one side of the cabinet. A cultist I recognised as none other than the Barlord Neville himself, was clearly a true devotee of the light-spanking oddballs, judging by his fancier than usual apron. He cautiously approached and moved to step behind me. I followed him in the corner of my eye before looking at the self-styled Grandmaster flash
The remaining brothers and sisters lurched painfully into a circle around me as the limping barman draped the apron over my head. I felt him crouch behind me and resisted the impulse to lash out with a foot as he rolled my right trouser leg up until I had a bare shin. The apron tie was pulled tight behind me, and I looked down to find I looked like an utter pillock.
“Bulb isn’t big on good fashion, then?” I muttered. It clearly clashed with my fancy green suit, but I just wanted to get away from these freaks at this point. Tex was already in my pocket and would be my introduction to the players that mattered in the city.
“You are illuminated by the apron of the one true god. Your shin is exposed to signify always putting your best foot forward, and you have survived having the darkness beaten from you.” The Bright Master rubbed his throat, and I grinned. It wasn’t I who had survived the “darkness beating”, and he knew it.
“Glow Mistress. Do you find this one worthy?” he asked.
“That token was legit then?” she asked in an acid tone. “Then yes,” she finished when he nodded to her.
“Excellent! Let the Light dance in the darkness as we welcome our new brother!” intoned the Bright Master in a ritualistic voice.
I tensed as they moved toward me en masse, but this time it was less spanking and more back patting.
“Nice to have you join us, Bob,” said one as he slapped me on the arm. “If you’re ever in need of your plumbing cleaning, let me know.” I narrowed my eyes, but a now fully recovered Tex arrived at my side.
“Brother Candle-spark is a ranking member of the Dunnikindivers Guild in Ankmapak. Shit is his business!” Tex said cheerfully.
“And business will always be good as long as people eat and drink! Tell me, brother Bob, what brings you to our neck of the woods?” asked Candle-spark.
“I’m looking to do some trading in the city. Tex is a friend from back home, and he’s agreed to help me out.” They all burst out laughing.
“Oh, you Outremonde idiots!” smiled Brother Candle-spark. “The big city isn’t the end of the rainbow. I think that’s one of your legends? There’s no pot of tiny green women waiting for you in the city. Pixies are outlawed, for a start.”
“It’s a pot of gold,” Tex muttered. “But he’s right, Bob. There’s no pot of gold waiting for us, eh? We’re going to have a tough time making a profit?”
“It will sure be a tough time to turn a profit,” I said cautiously. Tex appeared to have developed a facial tic; the left side of his mug was dancing like an extra in the Bad music video.
“What are you selling? Everyone goes through the dunny at some point. The guild is surprisingly influential.” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “I’d be happy to help out a fellow Glow in the Dark if I can!” said Candle-spark in a cheery voice.
“Thanks, Sparky. That would be good?” I replied, glancing at Tex, who nodded slightly.
“So what are you–” Candle-spark began, but the Bright Master coughed, and he flinched.
“No business in the lodge! I think we could all use a drink,” he said firmly, stretching his neck from side to side. Sir Bob, if I might have a word?” I moved as he beckoned towards a corner of the room, away from the rest of the people who gravitated to the table of food and drinks on one side.
“Chosen, what can the Illuminated ones do for you? Forget the no business rule, I make the rules and break them as I like, under the blessing of our holy Bulb.”
“He seemed like a nice enough guy,” I partially lied. The poor man twitched as I mentioned knowing his god in the same way as a bloke I bumped into in the pub.
“My name is Jonah, Bob. I do a little work here and there in the city. If you’re looking for contacts, I could certainly help you out.” I could respect the greedy glint in his eyes. I liked dealing with someone whose motivations I could easily grasp. And manipulate to hell and back.
“Well, Jonah, I’ve got some magic items to sell. If you know anyone who might be interested in system-sourced goods, I’d surely appreciate any pointers.” Was I laying it on a bit thick? Maybe. System-sourced goods shouldn’t be that rare, but he’d know I had access to a dungeon. Naturally, my planned deal with the armaments guild was strictly confidential.
“Hmm.” He didn’t look terribly impressed. “Magic items are not terribly valuable in Ankmapak. Well, they are, but they’re a lot less valuable than in the outlying towns. The Oblitus Biblioteca churns them out, low-level ones at least. Do you have anything more, perhaps exotic to trade?” He waggled his eyebrows at me, his scarlet jowls bouncing in time with the hair-slugs that inhabited his forehead.
“Your drink, Chosen Bob.” The minion who had been sent to get me a new glass of Golden Jack had returned. He offered me the glass with a slight bow.
“Thanks, mate.” I took a swig of what was definitely a triple shot of the expensive whisky.
“Thank you, brother. Perhaps you’d like to join the others?” Jonah said pointedly to my server. The minion scurried off as requested, and I felt a pang of envy. My minions were either thieves, smelled delicious, or were the strangest humans I could imagine. As for Totally-Sane Simeon… Well, he fitted right into the stereotype.
“Why’s the empire so down on pixies?” He looked up at me. I’m not too proud to admit that I might be a little taller than I had been on Earth. With great power comes great body modification options. As Esme would find out one day soon.
“Thieving little shits! Tex used to think it was ‘prejudiced’, once upon a time. But if you ever have any dealing with the tiny gits, you’ll come round to the idea pretty damn fast. Bob, I don’t think I can assist you as much as brother Candle-spark. When your toilet is blocked the chaps who come clean it out earn your undying loyalty if they can get to you quickly enough, and Dunnikindivers have used that to their advantage.”
“Are there any other races, erm, perhaps species is a better term, that live in the empire?”
“Nope. Dwarves to the west of us, goblins to the east, here we are, stuck in the middle with you. The fudders in the north are a pain in the ass as well.”
“Maybe there is something you can help me with. I want information on all the local factions. I’m an Outremonde, so this whole place is new to me, and I need to find a few skilled people before I head back north.”
He chuckled, and my face clouded with anger.
“No disrespect, Chosen! Consider yourself blessed that you didn’t have to go through potty training again! A lot of Outremonde do, and all the embarrassing things you do as a small child stick with them. They’re already an adult in their heads, so sweet forgetfulness is not an option.”
I took a long sip of my drink and savoured the heat as it settled into my stomach. Remembering being breastfed, weaned, and toilet-trained in a new body would have driven me insane.
“I need a healer. A good one who can cure a case of terminal Bangalore-belly.” Jonah smiled broadly at my words. He looked like a pink-faced toad. I expected his tongue to flick out at passing flies.
“Ah, I assume you mean young Jenny’s father. I knew the god wouldn’t send us a wrong ‘un!” He laughed happily while I looked confused. “Oh, don’t scowl so, sir Bob. Half the town knows about poor Mortinal. We don’t get the same level of service from Candle-sparks guild, so far away from the city. And what we do get is largely due to our fraternal connection to our noble brother. If you’d approached Baginton from downwind, you’d have smelled the poor bastard two miles from the edge of town.”
My tongue flicked in and out on reflex. Golden Jack smelled as good as it tasted.
