“I think you’re right,” Bucket Boy said, gaping. “They all look like dancers. All except the oinker. Look at the delts on the Tigran.” He let out a small gasp. “Hey, hey, I know that guy! The other one. The Taurin. His name is Pontiff. Hewasa dancer but Damascus sent him back to the mercenary market because he was a dick.” Bucket Boy turned to look at me and Donut. He reached up to rub the side of his snout. “He slapped me once because he said I got in the way during his routine. There wasn’t even anyone in the club except a few of the regulars.”
I examined the figures standing at the top of the hill, none of whom were paying attention to us.
The first two were Genesis and Rapture. Once again, they had their large boots on the road in front of them. They were in an animated discussion with the hulking Tigran.
Standing off to the side, holding a comically large mallet similar to the one the late Brandon had once carried, was the bullheaded Taurin. He was, indeed, named Pontiff. He was a level 83Taurin Rhythm Rider, which I knew was a type of mage that used sound waves. He was listed as a hired mercenary for team One Fine Pig.
The glowing head of the Taurin’s giant hammer vibrated, which was keeping the rain and hail off the group.
I was half expecting the Tigran to also be a mercenary, but he was actually a racer.
Nico. Tigran. Level 91 Greaser.
One of two from Team One Fine Pig.
You already know what a Tigran is, as you’re buddies with that guy who plays with dolls and almostdid something really suspicious with his tea before he came to his senses.
Nico is two things. One, he’s a Tigran. A tiger person. Angry, emotional, strong, and fiercely loyal. That’s what they’re known for, but that’s also a stereotype. Like with most species, there’s a whole spectrum. I’m sure there are dweeb Tigrans and pacifist Tigrans and vegan Tigrans and Tigrans who have fallen prey to some random MLM and irritate all their extended family members and friends from high school with annoying yet weirdly desperate marketing emails.
Still, Nico falls well within the range of what you’ve come to expect from your average dude with a tiger head...
... with one glaring exception. And that exception is Penelope.
His wife. The love of his life.
Nico is part of a throuple. And between you and me, it’s not a healthy relationship. Don’t @ me, all of you in polycules. You know as well as I do that sometimes people love their partners so much, they unwillingly get dragged into this whole sharing situation. I’m sure there are plenty of perfectly healthy situations out there. This ain’t one of them.
Penelope is the one who wanted to open things up. So it’s now Nico, Dario—who is that other Tigran currently glaring at you from behind the steering wheel of their Tigr APV—and Penelope.
And yes, Penelope is the pig. Yes, she’s just a regular pig with the intelligence of a regular pig. Just go with it. There’s a whole storyline there. Examine her if you want to know more.
Standing there on the ground next to the Tigran was Penelope the pig. She was just a regular round pink pig. The thing had to weigh, like, five hundred pounds. She snuffled on the ground next to the tiger, who petted the top of the pig’s head affectionately.
Penelope. Level 5 Yorkshire Sow.
This is a pig. Oink, oink.
Warning: This beast is magically protected by Taranis. As such, if this beast dies or is even hurt, the culprit will be marked for death by the thunder god.
This is Penelope. Again, she is a pig. She is married to both Nico and Dario, and she loves them both equally. At least that’s what Nico and Dario believe.
No, she didn’t used to be a beautiful princess who was transformed by a witch. She’s a pig and has always been a pig.
Penelope did, however, once get hit by a stray spell.The Touch of Maw-Loo.Also known as theSnowdrop Curse. There was going to be this whole succubus storyline that also involved Emberus and Hellik and Taranis and a bunch of angry spouses on the seventh floor we didn’t get to use, so we brought Penelope here. And now when certain NPCs see this fine pig, they fall helplessly in love with her.
That includes Taranis, who has it bad for her.
Kill her at your own peril.
I sighed. Of course. A pig protected by a god. One of the big ones, too. Taranis was the god who was also the big brother of Emberus and Hellik and Eris, and he was the one who’d been married to Apito, who was also his mom.
Dario, the other member of One Fine Pig, sat behind the wheel of their truck, glaring not at us like the description implied, but at Nico.
“Carl, do you think the two tiger guys and that pig...” Donut trailed off.
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know,” I said. “Come on. Let’s see what we’re dealing with. Bucket Boy, you stay here. Don’t let anyone near the truck. Honk the horn if anything weird starts to happen.”
He opened his mouth.