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Gerald a short red fox, one of the Cavix race, thought back upon events earlier this same morning. He leaned to one side on the cool edge of the building on his feet. Similar to many races on this world, he walked on footpads instead of flat feet; like the humanoid heel-walkers. His heels were nearly invisible. The plantigrade feet of the Humans, Royants, Czarists, Relvens and the like; had more defiant heels, walking with the bones of the foot nearly flat on the ground, as well. Most other races had the more normal little bump up past the longer narrow foot held up off the ground and stood on the main bottom pad of the foot, instead digigrade feet enabled them unlikely to trip in dense foliage or uneven terrain like the heel-walker races.

He swished his thick and fluffy red with white bands in the middle and tip of his tail behind him. Swishing it back and forth in nervous anticipation; he was eyeing a lever action rifle for about seven hours now across the hardened dirt of the dusty street.

The sun beat down hard on the dirt, a few swirls of dust swirled up in several spirals and walked their way back up the way he'd come. The dust was sculpted by the gusty yet light wind that made wispy little tornadoes crosswise in front of him, across the hardened dirt tracked Main street.

The early morning sun had climbed to the middle of the soft blue sky, warming his chilled body from the freezing dark morning. Few of the massive fluffy early morning clouds remained burned off by the first sun. And it was high noon now or very close to it. He was looking up into the yellow sun, the little dwarf cousin that shown brighter white, was not up yet, and it was still too early for that. But once that second summer sun rose up the sky would turn blue-white and too bright to look up at all. Also it would get a lot hotter. It was nice standing in the milder heat of the morning; though out of the shadow of the cold wooden house, anyway.

Even though he was fully clothed the early hours were cold off from the shadowy cover of this house he'd been standing next to. No windows on this side facing the street, it was a residential building instead of a store of any merchant, he had surmised, from both the size as well as design. Graffiti had been written across the side, a coat of thin paint tried to cover up the words written about somebody that probably lived there, something about some guy's tendency to fawn over long thick sweaty heavily veined...that next word was painted over so he could only guess as to what it had probably said. "Cock", he said out loud, and sniggered a giggle.

There was no one in sight on the street even though the morning had slowly illuminated the town from the darkness of pitch black night. Usually there would be someone walking the main street at least. Some city Guardsmen walking as slow as molasses making their rounds, merchants hurrying to open their shops and get ready for the morning shoppers or farmers making the daily pilgrimage and transporting their grain over to the general store down the street. But for some reason today, there was no one was in sight.

With the cover of his mail armored hand, he was using it to shade his eyes to glance through his thick fingertips at the blazing yellow orb. He'd stepped out from the wall of this wooden plank clapboard house, mostly to get warm, and also because the thin cool mud close to the house smelled of pee; He'd been still cold from earlier. The freezing air of the morning breeze had cut straight to the bone when his parents had kicked him out of the house.

"Well, I was going to start my life's adventure". He thought out loud. "But when Dad suckered me outside on that 'Hey what is going on outside' ruse, Mom had slammed and locked the door!'

They had arranged some loud commotion and youth and vigor he had charged outside to the rescue in only his loincloth, armed only with one of his new racial knives. His clothes, then his armor came out the window along with his backpack and the rest of his grip, along with a hearty, "Give 'em hell son!", from his dad. The shutter doors were pulled closed afterwards; both doors crashed closed and then they too shook with the bolt lock slamming home. The window was slammed down next. It all happened so fast, all before he could say a word. Zip-zap boom! Just like that, his first day on his own was started off with a dirty trick, and a frozen air dark morning.

He figured it was all planned that way, mostly because if his cold feet in leaving earlier in the week. Freezing his unmentionables off him, he had quickly got into his shirt and hauberk, then the padding, the heat from inside the old house of his upbringing subsiding fast in the 10 degree night air. He shivered standing bare toed on the frost covering the dirty street. Hurriedly he got into his mail and did up the back laces as best he could. His pants and leg armor was next, then his coif and boots, he girdled on his left and right draw "Cavix wave-knives", so-called for the gently waved double edges of the 15 inch blades. And the other racial weapon that only members of the Cavix race normally used: spikes in an 'S' shape as a throwing weapon on his back , he slung the shoulder sling over his left shoulder, later he would tie it across the back of his saddle cinch on his horse as a dual use saddlebags and or shoulder bag.

He shivered and didn't look back at his parents' home the house he'd grown up in. A couple streets later he'd forgotten all about it. The cold that was sticking to him still like the glove of darkness that surrounded him, took his mind off of memories of home and family.

He stared at the rifle up against the side of a building only about thirty yards away. It was just sitting there, leaning on the building, stock upon the ground and shiny barrel end only against the wall corner boards. Like someone had completely forgotten about it all last night. He'd noticed it as he was on his way originally to the stables just inside the town walls where his new horse was. The stable hands were not up yet at that early hour, but a glint from one of the gas lamps had caught his eye. As he stayed here from earlier this morning, back when it was so cold, he'd not moved much from this area.

Originally he'd thought the owner would have returned by now but no one did, He was looking down the street towards the town gate leading into the forest beyond. The cold had been warmed away about mid morning right after the yellow sun had risen. "Well might as well go see, since it is a freebie and all, just wander aimlessly over there, ...Dum-dee-dee-dum-de-dum!" he said out loud, trying to look like he wasn't actually going to pilfer a shiny rifle

As he got closer to it, it dawned on him to look through his Guild item at it, see_if there was_ magic on it, then he would be able to use his endowment on it to see what it did! He was congratulating himself for remembering to think things through before acting upon plans or impulses, as the Guild instructor had told him to do, he felt a little better with what he planned on doing. He fumbled out his stick with the big ball floating over one end from his backpack and peered through the orb part. The stick became a staff as he did so, making it obvious to anyone that he was a member of the Guild of the Seekers of the Orb, Wizards in training. He saw that it was bright red, and he stopped dead.

The class last week after he had joined had taught him a little bit of the advanced stuff the second year magicians had learned. Bright red meant stay away, He was not sure why just knew enough not to touch it. He was standing there about three feet away from it when he noticed a flash of somebody blowing past him on their way to scoop up the rifle. "Hey! No don't!" too late the guy had grabbed it in one hand and turned to look his way, triumphant.

It then dawned on Gerald what the color bright red meant, "I think it's cursed!" Gerald told the split hoofed guy. "

The guy had a horn right in the middle of his forehead just below a thick shock of yellow horse-like mane that dropped down. Now his grin faded into a surprised dumb found look and he looked at his hands. He couldn't let go. They were both stuck on the weapon. He then realized that he was in trouble. His face looked at the rifle then at Gerald like it was somehow Gerald's fault. He couldn't let go of the stock or the barrel. His hands were stuck.

The pony-like guy just stood there staring at it in both his armored hands. He said nothing just looked at the rifle, then he regarded Gerald then back at the rifle, then he shook it and tried to get it out of his hands, even trying to use a knee to pry it free. But he had no luck at anything working.

"Well Shit, Piss, Fuck this is really unlucky, I was all ready to dance around and say 'neener-neener-boo-boo' to you I got it first, and now to find out it is cursed! ...Shit!"

"You're a wizard right can't you just magic it off?" The Unicorn said the extreme distress in his voice made his squeak in anguish, yet he was hopeful his new acquaintance was really well versed in the magical arts.

"I'm afraid not ...well not yet anyway, you see I just joined last week": Gerald replied calmly. Secretly he thought that it was good he had stopped, plus now he knew for certain that red light around an object means it is cursed, plus it sticks to your hands or where ever you touched it.

Desmond's heart sank into the ground at that reply, but he thought maybe he should just ask his Mentor maybe.

"Oh by the way what is your name, I don't want to just call you 'the Cursed Unicorn'".

"Funny!" the unicorn replied back, "So this is stuck on me forever?" he looked at the nicely made rifle, obviously a higher technology than the weapons he was used to seeing. "My name is Angje, Desmond Angje". He looked at the rifle and kept trying to wiggle his thumbs around or scrap his hand off the barrel by rubbing his hand on the building. Sighing he looked at Gerald's belt buckle and let his eyes move around to look at Gerald's thighs, roundness of his butt and what was inside the codpiece, that hid everything on a mercenary/adventurer. Then at the knife sheaths instead of swords most other races carried. Gerald saw his gaze, but only adjusted his belt then not thinking any more on it and went back to concentrate upon the problem at hand.

Gerald then had an idea; "Hey I have an idea how about you just ask your Mentor maybe he or she can help you". He said brightly.

"No, he said he is busy with a big business transaction and can't be bothered." Desmond sighed back. He dropped his head in defeat and let the rifle slump to his waist relaxing from holding it up. Gerald looked at the situation from several angles bending over to look up at it and walked around Desmond but couldn't see anything more through the orb part of his staff. "Well for what it's worth it is cursed all over it; I can't see any place where it isn't bright red."

"How is it Bright Red?" Desmond looked at the rifle, and then held it up higher to look underneath as best he could, careful to get his horn out of the way by turning his head slightly. "I can't see any red on it; it is just blued metal and brownish amber stock colors." He looked back at Gerald.

"Oh. Yeah, how could you know, well the staff we wizards all carry has another function besides spell loading, we can see if there is magic or technology on the weapon, item or thing."

"You said you are a member of the Diamond Guild, can't you just slip it inside your bracer?" Gerald asked pointing to Desmond's right forearm.

Only if I can let go of it with the other hand or let go of it at all." Desmond said, and continued since he was proud of his choice of which Guild he'd joined, "Then I could find out how much in silver pieces it is worth."

"Wow! Yeah hey guys, what's up?!" a voice from around the building made both Gerald jump and Desmond wince. A golden white color fur Drex sauntered up then displaying his thinner golden yellow-white tail in contrast to Gerald's red and white one. "Hey what-cha doing?" He asked all smiles and with elaborated nosing around Desmond especially.

"Gee, that's a nice gun, you going to' shoot somebody in the back with it?" he let his fingers play around Desmond slipping his hands around Desmond's body digging in his pockets. Then at last he stopped as Desmond wiggled out of his grasp.

"No I'm not going to shoot anybody, get your hands of me, Pansy!" Desmond yelled out, "I don't have anything you could steal; it is all in my bracer, the one that doesn't come off either!" Desmond stood back against the wall of the building guarding himself away from the fennec feeling him up, with the cursed rifle glued to his hands.

"You are pretty limber with your fingers, there Drex." Gerald began, eyeing the fennec suspiciously, "Are you a friend of Desmond?"

"Naw, well not anymore, anyway ...used to be we were inseparable" the Drex looked into Desmond's eyes after a wink, "We used to be real close ...but I got kicked out of the Diamond and Desi just has been avoiding me." The Drex stuck out his lower lip in a pout.

"I forgive you though, I want us to be friends again1" The new guy joyously put his hands on Desmond's sides in between his arms holding on the rifle, then stood up as high as he could on his fennec toes and gave Desmond a slobbering sloppy wet kiss inside the unicorn's mouth. The unicorn looked surprised then spat out the dirt and manure that the Drex had tongued into his mouth.

"Ew ...plaa!" He spat it out on the dusty ground. "That was nasty even for you, you asshole, Ew-yuck, how long have you had that in your mouth?" Desmond didn't say anything about getting kissed just the nasty thing the smaller Drex had slipped in his mouth.

Gerald stood in shocked thought for a second then stepped back abruptly, "Whaaa-t! Wait a minute, you guys are fags?" Realizing the truth Desmond might have been not really looking at Gerald's weapons so much as he'd thought, but might have been looking more at his codpiece than Gerald. "I'm straight, guys I like girls not guys! Let's get that fixed in everybody's mind, right out in the open!"

Gerald almost stamped his toe-boots down to add emphasis.

"Weeeeeeel, not exactly", the Drex extended the explanation more with his first word as he began to explain, "I like girls too, but yeah, um Desi is my first faggot boy friend ...my first love!" The Drex draped his arms around Desmond. Desmond shrugged him off, menacing his horn to warn Pansy off. Pansy moved closer to Gerald like he was going to tell him a secret to his left ear, and he elbowed Gerald softly.

"He's got the prettiest dick you've ever seen too, you want to see it, I'll just get it out!" Quick as lightening he moved his hand to loosen Desmond's codpiece in a very well practiced maneuver. Desmond surprised for a millisecond only, skirted his hips away from Pansy's fingers at the next second.

Temporarily defeated by Desmond's last second avoiding move, Pansy turned towards Gerald.

"Oh c'mon, you like boys too!" the Drex grabbed Gerald's codpiece, "I can tell!"

In one quick maneuver he had flipped open Gerald's codpiece and Gerald's small junk just flumped out.

Gerald was aghast he didn't know what to do, He first went to grab his weapons, then tried to grab his codpiece, then moved his hands to shoo the Drex away from him. But because of his haste and indecision, his mail rings caught on the hooks to his codpiece fastenings.

"You know I hate that word, Pansy!" Desmond frowned, "If I didn't have my hands otherwise engaged I'd kick your ass like last week!" Desmond stepped off the side of the building to shove Pansy from behind with the cursed rifle."Oomph!" He growled out as he made contact with Pansy's head and left shoulder.

Pansy was already on his knees with his mouth open to try and taste Gerald, but found himself eating dirt the next second, his Guild had instructed him to be agile, so even though he got a mouth full of dust he rolled up into a forwards somersault and scrambled up to his feet.

"You don't have to get rough; it's just the word 'Breeders' use to call you, behind your back!" Pansy stuck out his lower lip in a well practiced pout again.

Gerald had by this time gotten his codpiece re-attached. He stepped back a couple feet to get some distance from Pansy. "You keep your hands to yourself, you are nothing but trouble!"

Noticing the commotion and some guy with a rifle in his hands the tall Ressant, Dammon Burgensmyth quickened his pace on his short legs over to the pair of foxes with a unicorn, fighting like girls.

Gerald's eyes were focused on ties linking his codpiece on, since they dropped free again as soon as he let go of the codpiece shell. Then Pansy pushed him hard into Desmond, "Hey don't shove me!"

Gerald stumbled and fell down with his hands now caught by the mail's rings in the ties of his codpiece; he bounced off Desmond who had lifted the rifle up to deflect Gerald.

"That's it, Pansy you're going to get an ass whooping now, you little ass-hat!" He would have gun smacked Pansy in the face with the center part between his hands of the rifle, but two giant arms reached over his head and hooked some kind of ninja-like weapons on the big claw hands of a brown coated person keeping him from being able to pop it into Pansy's snout.

Gerald got up but still had one hand caught in the hooks into the rings of his mail and the codpiece. The other one was pulled free off his hand a little, so he was fumbling now to get his stuck hand free.

Dammon's Shukos had luckily claw grabbed the rifle and he thought quickly to add, "Okay everybody slowdown a second, you are not going to brawl, without me!" He was smiling, and Pansy lashed out with his toe to kick Desmond in the balls, back underneath his codpiece that was loosened when he offered to let Gerald see Desmond's junk.

Desmond yelped out a cry and crumpled in agony to the ground and Gerald was trying to get his hands free of his codpiece's lashing, as Pansy then turned to him and toe kicked him in the balls next.

Desmond squeezed his thighs together and the stinging pain made him drop backwards into the furry Ressant with bronze mail pulling loose when he fell into him. And the new guy fell over then on top of Desmond when he was kicked, stuck together by the Shukos. Dammon then dropped with the Shukos still hooked onto the rifle. Gerald grabbed his balls too late to stop from getting kicked and pulled into a fetal position his mind going blank as the gut wrenching pain spread out quickly from his groin. Knowing this a good time to escape, Pansy ran off in a sprint laughing.

He was laughing so hard he had to stop just a few feet away from the lumpy forms withering in pain and surprise on the ground, Desmond having the worst of it since his hands were glued directly to the cursed rifle still, and he had had the wind knocked out of him as well by the heavy Ressant.

Dammon rolled off the groaning whooping for breath Unicorn. Desmond's eyes full of tears and his thighs pressed together, now with one moving slightly in front of the other. Dammon got up and wondered why the unicorn was still holding on the rifle, since he was obviously in so much awful agony. "Hey I saw that blond foxy kick you square in the nut sack, how come you are still holding onto that rifle?"

Desmond just wheezed and groaned, unable to even grab himself with this cursed rifle stuck to his hands.

Dammon still perplexed grabbed a hold of the rifle, as he let one Shuko drape down out of his hand and grabbed the rifle to jerk it out of the unicorn's hands. The rifle strangely came completely free of Desmond's hands and the Ressant also dropped it on the ground the next second.

Desmond surprised at how easy that was moved his hands to hold onto his groin, as the taller Ressant helped him up to his hooves.

"Oh fucking hell that hurts ooooh Ow!" Desmond stooped over then saw the rifle laying on the ground, then looked at the Ressant.

"How did you do that?" It was a shock; nothing he had done freed himself from that calamity. But the Ressant just snatched it free of both hands, then he just let go and dropped it. It was lying on the ground a short distance away.

"What do you mean?" The bear-horse asked, "I just took it out of your hands because you were death gripping it instead of holding your balls like you are now!" He said matter of factly.

"It is cursed, it sticks to your hands, is why I couldn't let go are you a wizard or something?"

Gerald looked at the rifle through the orb end his own agony quickly becoming a mere throb now but still letting him know that he was savagely gut crutched by a fucking asshole of the Screw Guild.

He saw Desmond start to move closer to the Rifle, "Hey Desmond, it is still bright red."

Desmond pulled his hand back like the rifle was a viper.

"Thanks Gerald, But I still am perplexed how come you could do that, as well as it not getting stuck to your hand too?"

"Yeah I want to know too, this is all just amazing." Gerald added as he pulled his mail gloved hand straight on his armor, pulling the laces snugger.

The Ressant thought for only a second "Just lucky I guess. Are you guys going to fight anymore? I didn't get to do much in the fight."

Gerald thought through all the Guilds then it dawned on him, "Do you belong to the Fo-"he stopped then corrected himself "...Adventurer's Guild?"

""Yep sure am, live fast, die young and have a hell'a-va time while doing it!" he said proudly.

"Well thank you ...ah um; what IS your name anyway?"Desmond asked, finally winning the war at getting his codpiece back on right. "I am Dammon Burgensmyth the first, at your service good sirs!" The tall Ressant said in bravado, adding a long arm sweep down and then up.

"What are your names, so we don't get confused with calling each other only by our individual race," Dammon finished.

"Oh I'm Desmond Angje, and this is Gerald, um what was is your last name?" Desmond said in a bad introduction, turning to Gerald.

"Gerald Jenneck" He said looking again at the rifle still bright red through his orb. "I belong to the Seekers of the Orb and Desmond belongs to the Diamond."

"Good! Which Order are you two guys going to join, I'm going to join the Sword" he said proudly.

"Well Desmond I don't know, myself I thought I'd join the Key" Gerald replied.

"Garter" Desmond said able to walk now without wincing, he readjusted his codpiece a little to let that part of his anatomy have a better fit after the agony a couple minutes ago. It still stung on each step, but he was determined to walk it off.

"Was that little devil a friend of either of you?"

Gerald just stared back, without saying anything right away to Dammon, and then he said "I just met him, Desmond used to be friends with him I think, but I gather they had a falling out when he was kicked out of the Guild they both joined".

"Yeah he first stole from one of the people in the Guild", Desmond began "And then lied about doing it, so that was anathema to the charter of the Diamond, we might 'find' something for free but we draw the line at outright stealing".

Desmond wiggled his left leg, then walked uneven a little zips of pain on every left hoof step, but was walking better now, "it wasn't so much the fact that he lied, as much as whom he lied too".

Dammon asked "Who was that, some high level merchant?"

Desmond nodded, "Yeah the Guildmaster of the hall!"

"Oh no, you can't lie to a Guildmaster!" Dammon exclaimed with a look of consternation.

"Then he went out and joined the Guild of the Screw I think to get even with them by tricking me and being a jerk to anyone I meet, or know". Desmond finished. He looked back at the rifle laying in the dirt, but decided than even so it might be would a pretty Silver Piece; until he knew more about curse removal or became a member of the Knights of the Garter, he would just have to let stuff like that go, still it was a shame, such a nice rifle.

Pansy looked on from around the corner of a building, further up the street, waiting for his old lover and Desmond's new friends to get closer, he was still mad at Desmond for not taking his side and also not leaving the Guild of the Diamond when he got caught. He did it for Desmond after all; Desmond would have liked to have the shiny gold encrusted sword, so he took it. Not for himself either, he did it for his best friend, for Desmond.

"Then he let me get the blame and get kicked out of the Diamond altogether". He said out loud, there was no one around. He thought about the whole episode all over again, just like the entire last week, it was constantly on his mind. He wanted revenge on his old friend, but also didn't want him to get hurt too badly. Another kick in the balls would be enough he thought. But how to do it again would be hard, there were two other people on either side of him, plus his codpiece was in the way. Defeated for the moment, he elected for a new plan, he'd follow them when they left town a little ways back and get Desmond one last time after the sun went down and he was vulnerable, "Yeah", he thought deviously, "That would be the best, then I could maybe dump some mud in everybody else backpack as a mean trick!"

Pansy snuck back away from the group coming towards his hiding place, and slunk back to go behind this building, waiting for them all to go on past. He followed after a while he saw them all go into the stable at the end of town, then he walked slowly towards the stable, he didn't want to fall too far behind when they left town. He'd duck into a hiding place if they came out with their horses, and eyed possible good ones on the way up to the stable, in case they looked his way.

"This is going to be good!" he said quietly now a little bent down like he was sneaking along.

Some other guy with long Antlers in a spiral skipped along and into the stable up ahead, he did look Pansy's way, Pansy froze in place, and then moved quickly behind some crates in front of a building. The skipping guy stopped turned his head sideways looking Pansy's way, then shrugged his shoulders and began bounding back into a skip into the stable.

Pansy waited a long time, then chanced to move closer to the stables.

Three people on different horses in barding moved out of the stable, a fourth guy stopped them with a shout. They pulled up and waited for him and his horse, and then all four trotted up towards the main gate out of town, as a group. One guy had spiral antlers, another one horn on his head, a big horse like headed guy and the red Cavix.

When they had gotten closer to the gate, Pansy sprinted up to the stable to get his horse saddled and light out after them as quick as he could.