I hope you'll leave a review if you enjoyed... and doubly so if I pissed you off.
---
Akara and Kashya looked each other wide-eyed, with barely contained mirth ready to burst forth and spill all over the grass. Comprehending the same thought in each others eyes, they both doubled over, laughing hysterically.
"What? What the hell is so funny?!" The young woman standing before them was legitimately puzzled by their reaction. Granted, no one had supported her decision of taking up the adventuring life, and indeed, fighting had taken a toll on her physically, but the reaction of these two women was unprecedented.
Kashya was the first to catch her breath. "You think someone with that complexion could fight DEMONS? Please, PLEASE tell me you're joking."
"I am not," the girl said, barely audible to the older women. She had been proud just a moment ago. She had killed some undead spirit that was raising corpses in some graveyard somewhere off in the wilderness, but now she felt herself shrinking, disintegrating into a puddle of shame and humiliation. A puddle which, she considered, may or may not be liable to mingle with all the mirth already on the ground, and thus become truly lost.
Considering this, she drew herself up, and, looking Kashya square in the eyes, addressed her sharply. "What does my complexion have to do with anything?"
"Child," Akara put her arm around the young woman, which she tolerated with dignity. "Take a look around. Your skin is greasy, your hair is a mess, you don't have the high cheekbones of Charsi over there, and your buttocks are nowhere near as firm and proud as those of Kashya. How could you possibly hope to defeat Andariel?"
"I know her weak point! It's--"
"Yes, yes. Everybody knows about the fire."
"No, I mean her nipple rings."
Warriv, a talented beatboxer, provided a drum-fill.
"Very well," Kashya began, giving the young lady another look over, "living as a warrior may limit you to only one facial peel a week- FACT- but how do you account for your nose?"
"My nose?"
"It's crooked."
"It got broken," she deadpanned, now glaring. "By the demons."
Kashya scowled, unimpressed. The young lady rolled her eyes before elaborating. "I fell on my face, alright? I got hit from behind, and fell on my face. It was days before I could seek medical help, and by then it was too late."
Kashya's scowl softened to a frown. "I just don't... couldn't you at least stuff your bra? You're truly fugly, you know."
Two identical, half-naked rogues standing guard nearby nodded to one another in agreement. Kashya continued, "I could understand if you were trying to be stylishly ugly, but... you're not just pale- your skin is blotchy and uneven! You're no heroine. An extra, maybe. Fodder for a hero to rescue and then forget about. But you... you didn't really think you could AMOUNT to anything with those narrow hips, did you?"
The young lady's mouth spasmed open, as if winged demons would fly out and claw Kashya to death. But, she mastered herself, and instead stalked off, resisting the urge to shout expletives, just as a man approached- another newcomer.
"Who the hell is this old geezer," Kashya scoffed, giving him the usual once-over.
"Geezer?" the man replied, taken aback. "I'm twenty-four."
"Too old. Next."
"Too old!? I'm in the prime of--"
"Yes, O-L-D! OLD! You hard of hearing or something? Go pick a corner and sell damaged boots for the rest of your life."
"You're not making any sense. I can still fight!"
"Look, grandpa. I've been doing this for a lot longer than you have, and believe me when I say that your years of experience are of no use compared to the unruly hormones of any teenager. Just look at Akara."
The old woman nodded solemnly. "I am basically useless, except as a plot device."
Kashya patted her on the shoulder sympathetically. "See? And look at me- I'm not even 30, and I haven't done anything but berate newcomers for ten years. Still wear the chainmail, though... accentuates my firm, proud buttocks, don't you think? You get firm buttocks when you spend as much time standing around as I do. Ain't that right, Akara?"
"You could bounce a goid piece off my butt, it's so firm."
The young man blinked, astonished, and turned to Warriv, who met hiz questioning look with a fatherly smile and understanding nod before cheerfully ejaculating, "good day!" and returned to staring at his wagon.
It was disheartening, to say the least.
Sure enough, it was a 17 year old boy with a shock of blue hair who ended up killing Andariel, along with his on-again-off-again girlfriend, who happened to have eyes the color of burning hellfire, for she was the offspring of a human mother and a hell-lord with whom she was never particularly close...