Some days can be very surprising.
Or, should I say, very surprising compared to what my continuous membership within Sir Greenhilt's Order of the Stick has slowly used me to. All adventuring parties naturally have their fair share of surprises, but I am positive mine moreso than others. To mention only my teammates, I have witnessed a normally cool and composed leader be reduced to a male in heat clumsily trying to court the target of his attraction in spite of trying very eagerly to skewer him when he had felt no such weakness against a succubus, a wise dwarf smart enough to manipulate Miss Starshine into traveling with said paladin lose all trace of intelligence to attack trees on sight when he did not run away from them, a rogue lose her speech because of the loss of her hard-earned treasure and a pathological need for secrecy, a sociopathic halfling's resistance to the urge of murdering us all in our sleep and, surprise among surprises, Elan become actually competent.
On the subject of the party's bard, Miss Starshine's attraction to him has been an unfathomable mystery to me since the very beginning of our association. Why she chose him when she could have had, laughably easily might I add considering his weakness to good looks, something Miss Starshine certainly has plenty of, Sir Greenhilt is beyond my admittedly substantial understanding.
Ah, yes. I was speaking of surprises.
In retrospect, this surprise should not even have been one. The signs were there. Elan would do anything to please anyone, first of all the love of his life, and he had shown me in the past that he liked prancing about in wizard's robes. And Miss Starshine had already proved her interest, although she most likely does not remember doing so.
It had all started in a town like so many others. Not especially memorable at first glance, but holding a few places of interest for whom deigned to search. Such as a library that had a few works of study of magic I had never read. There also happened to be an university of theology, which explained why Master Thundershield was not present to prevent the incident.
I could postpone a meal for the sake of interesting books and so could Master Thundershield when an occasion for a debate over deities presented itself, but a long day of march had left Sir Greenhilt, Miss Starshine, Elan and the halfling starving. We had assured them, minus the halfling who naturally did not have such deference for us, that they could start sustaining themselves while we were away and that we would join their meal if we were finished with our activities before they were done.
From that day, I decided the halfling's hands should never be allowed within three feet of any of our plates or glasses.
My return from the library to the inn we were meant to rest that night was greeted by a scene that could have passed off as normal to someone foreign to the Order of the Stick. Miss Starshine was smiling sheepishly as she talked to a pepperpot whereas Elan was feverishly making out with Sir Greenhilt, thinking he was Miss Starshine ("Oh, Haley, you taste so much sweeter than usual tonight!"), while Sir Greenhilt eagerly kissed back, also thinking he was Miss Starshine ("Haley, if you knew how long I've waited for this!"). A hideous laughter immediately designated the culprit; the halfling.
He acted innocent, of course, but I knew better than to trust the only member of the table which was not heavily inebriated. I cast Evan's Spiked Tentacles of Forced Intrusion on the abject thing until he passed out from the pain before I focused my attention on the problem at hand; three intoxicated humans.
Leaving the two males to their mutual buccal exploration, I took Miss Starshine by the hand and led her to our room, where she would be safe from humiliating herself. It was then that I discovered her good taste chose to awake only when she was not sober; as I was leading her up the stairs, she clumsily asked me if I could polymorph into Miko, before enumerating all the things she would like to do to her and to have done to her in return.
But the hint to today's surprise came soon afterwards, when we reached our room. As soon as I closed the door for privacy, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me repeatedly quite gauchely. I had known she was perfectly aware of whom she was locking lips with as she had moaned my name as she assaulted my mouth. I am not one to take advantage of anyone, especially not of my best friend, so I pushed her away from me and, when she tried to make contact again, for both of our sake, cast Sleep on her.
I cushioned her fall with my arms before laying her to rest on her bed. In her sleep, she began to voice slightly less disturbing thoughts ("Harder Roy, harder!") and, faintly relieved, I could go downstairs to deal with Elan and Sir Greenhilt.
Recalling this event made my recent discovery less surprising, but no less distressing. For, today, many weeks later, as I came to our room, I found Elan and Miss Starshine kissing avidly each other. The act itself was, of course, not surprising, though the place was certainly odd for Miss Starshine preferred to spend her special time with her boyfriend in his room. No, what was actually disquieting was that Elan was dressed as me, complete with a purple wig and a pair of fake pointy ears.
My yelp of surprise had brought their attention on me and they were staring awkwardly at me.
"Miss Starshine," I said, "if you wanted to taste my lips, you could just have said so."
As my shock very slowly disappeared to make me realize what words I had just pronounced, Miss Starshine stared at me. Then at Elan. Then at me again. Then at her lover again. And before I could even react, she unceremoniously shoved the bard out of the room, swiftly locked the door, expertly tackled me to the floor and kissed me with untold passion.
Later that night, I would discover exactly how high her Dexterity score is.
I have no regrets.