The Bandits and the Pink Necromancer

quaraun-boomfuzzy-ghoulspawn-art-by-wendy-christine-allen

The Bandits and the Pink Necromancer

The wind howled through the endless expanse of snow, carrying icy tendrils that snuck into every crack of the pink silk tent.

Quaraun sat cross-legged on a pink velvet cushion, his long, silver jellyfish tentacle hair draped in neat coils around him, slithering protectively. His gold mechanical hands, glinting softly in the faint candlelight, meticulously embroidered a rose onto a scrap of pink silk.

The scent of gingerbread and clove wafted from the corner where BoomFuzzy stirred a pot of strange gingerbread stew. No one knew why gingerbread was in his stew, but he claimed it was the secret ingredient and Quaraun and GhoulSpawn had decided not to question the old Faerie’s logic.

"Ye’re too quiet, Love," BoomFuzzy said, his grizzled voice cutting through the eerie stillness.

Quaraun grunted in reply.

BoomFuzzy turned, his steampunk goggles fogged from the heat of the fire. Being legally blind he could not see Quaraun from this distance and so crossed the tent in a few short, muscular strides. His stocky form crouched beside Quaraun to get a closer look at the ancient Moon Elf.

“What mischief fills that delicate wee head o’ yours, eh?”

“I do not feel well,” Quaraun muttered, not lifting his gaze.

"Ya sick? Or aching?"

"Both."

The needle trembled in Quaraun’s hand, and he dropped it. His vision blurred for a moment, the room tilting. He swayed but caught himself with a groan.

BoomFuzzy’s strong fingers, smelling of gingerbread, clams, and peppercorns, pressed to Quaraun’s pale forehead.

“Ye’re burnin’ up, Love. Ye’ve been working too hard again.”

Quaraun swatted his hand away.

“I am fine. Do not fuss.”

BoomFuzzy grinned and kissed Quaraun’s temple, the scent of his smoky beard brushing Quaraun’s cheek.

“Ye’re stubborn as a mule, JellyElf.”

Before Quaraun could retort, a distant noise broke through the wind—a crunching of snow, irregular and heavy.

“Hoofbeats?” Quaraun asked, his head snapping up.

BoomFuzzy stood, listening through the tent flap.

“Nay. Footsteps. Many of ’em. Big'ons. Sounds like Human soldiers.”

The ground trembled, faint but distinct. A growling chorus of crude, Human voices carried through the gale. Their voices growing louder.

“Ah. Bandits,” BoomFuzzy spat. “Always sniffin’ ‘round for trouble.”

GhoulSpawn burst into the tent, his green velvet coat flaring behind him, the clatter of his hooves scattering snow from his digitigrade legs.

“We’ve got company,” he said, his voice jittery. He clutched a contraption—a hodgepodge of gears and wires sparking faintly. “They’re armed. Barbed bats. About twenty of them.”

"Barbed bats?"

"Baseball bats wrapped in barbed wire. Nasty looking things."

Quaraun sighed, carefully setting his silk aside.

“They are foolish to come here.”

BoomFuzzy snorted.

“Aye, but fools make for grand entertainment.”

Before the bandits reached the camp, BoomFuzzy shoved a crystal skull into Quaraun’s hands.

“Hold onto this, Love.”

“I do not need it,” Quaraun replied, his voice soft but laced with disdain.

“Ye’re in no shape to fight, and I’ll nae risk yer dainty white arse,” BoomFuzzy said. "Ya ain't hot a lick of muscle in ya."

His tone was gruff, but he planted a quick kiss on Quaraun’s lips before stepping outside.

The cold hit like a slap as the tent flap opened.

GhoulSpawn followed the Faerie chef, muttering under his breath about energy fields and dispersal patterns.

"There’s a portal nearby," GhoulSpawn said. "I can feel it. The energy is close. Bet those Humans just fell through it. Probably confused and don't know where they are. Could make them worse."

"I hate these feral portals, showing up unawares all the time l," BoomFuzzy grumbled.

"They seem to be getting worse. More of them lately--"

BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn continued their conversation as they left the tent, leaving Quaraun alone inside.

Quaraun remained seated, wrapping his jellyfish hair around himself like a cocoon. It hissed and writhered angrily. His breath fogged in the icy air as he whispered a spell, the Rainbow Wand glowing faintly beside him.

Outside, the bandits had gathered, their mismatched armour clanking as they brandished barbed-wire-covered bats. The leader, a hulking brute with a scar splitting his face, sneered at BoomFuzzy.

“What’s this? A wee cook defendin’ a caravan?” the bandit jeered.

BoomFuzzy was still wearing his apron and carrying the large wooden spoon he had been using to stir the pot with.

BoomFuzzy laughed, low and menacing.

“Aye, a cook I be. But one who’ll slice yer guts and bake ‘em into pie if ye take another step.”

Some of the Humans laughed, clearly thinking the Phooka was joking.

"Ya don't know who I am do ya?" BoomFuzzy grinned wickedly. "I ain't just no chef. I am King Gwallmaiic Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, Lich Lord of Fire Mountain, King of the UnSeelie Court. We eat Humans and you've shown just in time for lunch."

The bandits' grins faltered as BoomFuzzy drew his twin obsidian daggers, the blades glinting like shards of frozen night.

"Twernt joking, Loves."

GhoulSpawn clattered loudly just then, startling all of them, BoomFuzzy included.

“GhoulSpawn,” BoomFuzzy barked. “Ye gonna play or just gawk?”

GhoulSpawn hesitated, fiddling with his device.

“I… I’m calculating the optimal—”

BoomFuzzy didn’t wait. With a swift motion, he hurled a dagger. It struck the snow at the bandit leader’s feet, crackling with dark energy.

“I gave ye fair warning,” BoomFuzzy growled.

The bandits laughed.

"You missed!"

"I don't think so."

A wide grin spread across BoomFuzzy’s face.

The dagger evaporated, reappearing back in BoomFuzzy’s hand. In the spot where the dagger had cut the ground, a bony skeletal hand reached out of the ground. Dark magic crackled and sparked, as the bones turned to blue ice, a blue frost radiating from them, covering the ground around it.

Before the bandit to react, the frost spread to his leg, which immediately turned to ice, spreading up his body, instantly freezing him into a solid bloc of ice.

"What the--?"

"It’s the Crystal Plague!"

"That’s a Frost Lich!"

Some of the bhe bandits surged forward, intent on attacking the Lich. Others turned and ran.

Inside the tent, Quaraun’s delirium worsened. The voices outside blended with memories of past battles, a deafening noise that made his head spin. He pressed the crystal skull to his forehead, feeling its icy coolness.

BoomFuzzy’s voice rang out, loud and commanding, cutting through the chaos. Quaraun closed his eyes, focusing on the sound, the familiar warmth it brought.

He whispered an incantation. His jelyfish hair began to writhe, glowing faintly. It slithered under the tent flap, invisible to the bandits in the storm.

BoomFuzzy dodged a swing, driving his elbow into a bandit’s ribs. The thug crumpled, but two more took his place.

“I could use a wee bit o’ help ‘bout now!” BoomFuzzy yelled.

GhoulSpawn yelped, narrowly avoiding a bat aimed at his head.

“I’m trying!”

He flipped a switch on his device, and a pulse of orange light erupted, knocking several bandits off their feet.

Then, from beneath the snow, Quaraun’s shimmering tentacle silver hair shot forth. It wrapped around the bandits like living vines, dragging them to their knees.

The leader thrashed, his bat useless against the jellyfish tentacles constricting him.

“What is this sorcery?”

BoomFuzzy grinned.

“Ye’ve met the Pink Necromancer, I reckon.”

The tentacles tightened, and the bandits screamed as they were flung into the storm, vanishing into the white void.

BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn returned to the tent, covered in frost and panting from exertion. Quaraun was slumped on the floor, his hair curling back around him like a shimmering veil.

“Ye overdid it again, Love,” BoomFuzzy chided, kneeling beside him.

“I handled it,” Quaraun muttered weakly.

BoomFuzzy scooped him up, wrapping him in his fur-lined coat.

“Aye, ye did. But I still hate seein’ ye like this.”

Quaraun leaned into BoomFuzzy’s warmth, the scent of spices and smoke soothing his frazzled mind.

“I told you not to fuss.”

“And I told ye I’ll always fuss,” BoomFuzzy replied, kissing Quaraun’s forehead.

GhoulSpawn busied himself with the pot of stew, his hooves clattering nervously.

“Do you think they’ll come back?”

“Nay,” BoomFuzzy said, stroking Quaraun’s hair. “Not after that.”

The three settled into an uneasy quiet, the storm raging outside. Inside, the warmth of their bond held the cold at bay.

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Pickling Perfection

Pickling Perfection The air inside the BioDome was crisp and fragrant, carrying the tangy aroma of dill mingled with the fresh, watery scent of cucumbers. Rows upon rows of leafy green plants stretched out, their soft shadows dancing under the glowing artificial sun. Quaraun reclined on a pink velvet lounge, surrounded by frilly pink silk cushions, his usual pink parasol poised in one hand while he sipped black tea from a porcelain cup painted with pink roses. “Glinta, you’re bruising them!” he snapped, watching GhoulSpawn fumble with a particularly large cucumber. “I’m not bruising them!” GhoulSpawn retorted, his tone exasperated as he carefully placed the cucumber in the wicker basket by his side. His green velvet coat was rolled up to his elbows, and a smudge of dirt marred his glasses. “You’re the one who insists I do this by hand. We could use a harvesting machine, you know.” “And deprive you of learning proper care for the plants?” Quaraun huffed. “You are my apprentice, not...

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The Bandits and the Pink Necromancer

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