The winds of the western desert were kind this evening, so the chatter stemming from an encampment could be heard above the sand dunes. There rested the Order of the Stick after a long day of forced march, imbued with spells that protected them from the sun's deadly heat and thus allowed them to sleep without a star's bright light above their heads preventing their slumber.
Roy constantly juggled strategies and tactics in his mind, all destined to defeat Xykon and his minions to ensure the safety of the world and all its inhabitants. As well as allow his father in the afterlife; he'd learned a long time ago that you could never have everything. Lost in his thoughts, he paid little attention to the rest of the party.
Elan sparred against an imaginary enemy not far from the camp, thrusting his rapier into the air and whispering puns. Sand crunched under his footwork as he literally danced around his invisible target. Then, al of sudden, he straightened, hands crossed dramatically above his heart, and let himself fall in the sand before playing dead.
Haley laughed softly at this and decided to play along. She walked to him and theatrically mourned her lover between giggles as she cradled his body. Elan finally opened an eye, sprouting a morale praising the victory of true love over death itself before kissing her.
Durkon contented himself with being in the background, saying nothing.
Vaarsuvius was sitting on a log, silently feeding its familiar with small pieces of cooked meat while staring impassively at the crackling fire. At first, they'd been surprised to find an oak log in a desert devoid of any sign of vegetation within hundreds of miles, but then they remembered encounter tables and it suddenly wasn't surprising anymore.
The chatter rising from the camp was in fact nothing else than the resident halfling's monologue. An endless mix of complaining and self-praise had been leaving his throat ever since a few minutes after they'd set camp, his companions' interest in his discourse disappearing around the same time. His current subject was his countless sexual conquests and his mighty virility.
"Babes just can't get enough of me," he said smugly. "Well, the hot ones do. The fuglies know they have no chance with the Belkster," he quickly added. "I'm manhood personified. I've been with more sexy chicks than all of you combined," he boasted, his excitement over his self-congratulation making speak loudly enough to distract the others in spite of their best attempt to ignore him, Varsuvius excepted, who had no choice but to hear and process his words since the beginning because of its elven senses and who contented itself with feeding Blackwing.
"Every babe wants me. Even Miko. I could smell her hot body oozing pheromones as she fought me," he lied blatantly. "Haley and the pixie chick too when we were traveling to see the Oracle." Bottomless lassitude from Roy, outrage from Durkon and Elan, disgust from Haley and indifference from Vaarsuvius. "Even the elf. I know she wants me to bang her so hard she won't be able to sit for a month."
Vaarsuvius froze.
Five set of eyes, one of them avian, drifted slowly to the elf's still form. None of their owners had any idea how it would react. The wizard had been slightly unhinged since its encounter with Xykon.
If, by slightly, you meant, of course, extremely.
And, by unhinged, you meant, naturally, more unhinged.
As Belkar went on to describe all the positions he planned to use with the elf, each one more submissive and humiliating for it than the previous one, Vaarsuvius brought a hand to its mouth and everyone expected it to vomit. But instead, surprising everyone, a mufled chuckle escaped the wizard's throat. It held its stomach with the other hand as more laughter rose in the air.
"I, feeling any kind of lust for you?" Vaarsuvius finally managed to say, choking back its laughter.
The elf then couldn't hold back its laughter anymore and fell off the log backwards, tightly clutching its belly as it rolled on the sand and giggled uncontrollably.
Its audience was speechless, with the exception of the cause of this scene who stared at Vaarsuvius, outraged and sucking in his breath, producing a low hiss.
"I think V's hyperventilating," Haley said as the elf started wheezing. She promptly kneeled at its side.
"Aww," Elan pouted. "None of my jokes ever made him laugh."
"Geez, who'd have thought?" Roy deadpanned.
"I dinnae think 'e'll be able to trance tonight," Durkon commented.
"Well played Belkar," Haley muttered viciously as Vaarsuvius laughed restlessly into her chest.
"Not my fault if she has no taste." Belkar replied simply, chin high, before retreating to his tent.
Dwelling upon this outrageous rejection, he still found himself smiling.
One day, Vaarsuvius would be his.
It wasn't like he cared about the elf's consent, after all.
This is my parting gift to the fandom, because it is in desperate need of some in character fanfictions.