By Unknown

THIS IS 12 CHAPTERS.. SO COMING IN PARTS

 

Chapter One: The Job Board That Started Everything

Morning sunlight spilled over the crooked rooftops of Briarhollow, painting every chimney in warm gold while enchanted lanterns lazily drifted home after working the night shift. The town was the sort of place where magic had become so ordinary that nobody questioned why flower boxes hummed lullabies, why cats occasionally paid for fish with tiny silver coins, or why the baker's sourdough loaf loudly criticized customers' fashion choices.

The smell of cinnamon, fresh bread, pine needles, and potion herbs drifted through the winding streets.

Rich loved mornings here.

Mostly because they hadn't had time to become dangerous yet.

He adjusted the leather strap across his shoulder and wandered toward the town square, where adventurers crowded around the enormous Quest Board. Every guild in the region posted jobs there—monster hunting, artifact recovery, magical pest control, haunted basement inspections, dragon negotiations, enchanted plumbing emergencies...

There was even one request simply reading:

WANTED: Someone to explain taxes to my sentient castle. Pays well.

Rich stared at it.

"...Honestly..."

He considered taking that one.

"You'd lose."

Peter hadn't made a sound approaching.

Rich jumped.

"Gods, Peter."

Peter looked mildly apologetic.

"Sorry."

"You appeared like an assassin."

"I tripped over three chickens getting here."

"...How?"

"They were very committed."

Peter brushed a feather off his sleeve with complete seriousness.

Rich couldn't help smiling.

Peter had always possessed an incredible ability to make impossible statements sound completely reasonable.

He was dressed for travel already—dark cloak, spellbook hanging from one hip, satchel full of maps bouncing gently against his side. His brown hair stubbornly refused to stay neat despite obvious effort, and his sleeves already bore mysterious scorch marks.

Rich had once asked about those.

Peter had answered,

"I made tea."

Rich had wisely decided not to ask further questions.

Before either of them could examine the quest board—

Someone landed dramatically on top of it.

Not beside it.

On top.

"GOOD MORNING, CITIZENS!"

Several pigeons screamed.

A child applauded.

An elderly wizard sighed without looking up from his newspaper.

Fooly balanced effortlessly atop the wooden frame with the confidence of someone who had never once considered consequences.

His grin was bright enough to compete with the morning sun.

"I bring excitement!"

Peter looked up.

"You also brought roof shingles."

Fooly glanced behind himself.

"...Huh."

There were, indeed, several roof shingles sliding off the quest board.

"Minor detail."

"You fell through someone's roof."

"I arrived stylishly."

"Gravity disagreed."

Rich laughed before he could stop himself.

Fooly flashed him a victorious grin.

"There it is."

"What?"

"The laugh."

"I laughed yesterday."

"You snorted yesterday."

"I did not."

Peter nodded.

"You absolutely did."

Rich stared at both of them.

"...Traitors."

Fooly jumped down.

Perfect landing.

Almost.

His boot landed on an enchanted mop that had wandered away from the tavern.

The mop objected.

Violently.

It swept his feet out from underneath him.

He disappeared into a decorative fountain with an impressive splash.

Silence.

Then—

"I meant to inspect the plumbing."

Peter offered him a hand.

"I admire your commitment."

Fooly accepted it.

"I knew you would."

Rich looked away very quickly.

He wasn't entirely sure why seeing Peter help Fooly up made something uncomfortable twist inside his chest.

Jealousy?

No.

Surely not.

That would be ridiculous.

...

Probably.

He chose to think about literally anything else.

His attention landed on a freshly posted quest.

The parchment shimmered.

Letters rearranged themselves.

Then settled.

URGENT

CURSED ROMANCE POTION STOLEN

Reward: 500 Gold

Please recover before accidental confessions occur.

Signed, The Briarhollow Coven

The three of them stared.

Fooly spoke first.

"Oh."

Peter blinked.

"That seems..."

Rich finished the sentence.

"...Concerning."

Another parchment suddenly fluttered onto the board beside it.

UPDATE

VERY CONCERNING

IT HAS BECOME SENTIENT

Silence.

Fooly grinned.

"I love this job already."

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I hate this job already."

Rich looked between them.

"...We're taking it, aren't we?"

Both answered immediately.

"Yes."

"Unfortunately."

At that exact moment—

Someone cleared their throat.

Loudly.

Dramatically.

Suspiciously.

They turned.

A man wearing an enormous dark coat stood in the middle of the square despite the weather being pleasantly warm..

Batman, but magical.

And he was carrying what appeared to be enchanted boots specifically designed to make dramatic footsteps.

CLACK.

He took one step.

CLACK.

Another.

He stopped inches away.

Looked at each of them individually.

Then gasped.

"I knew it."

Rich blinked.

"...Knew what?"

"You look guilty."

"We've been standing here."

"Exactly."

Peter frowned.

"...Exactly what?"

Batman whipped out a notebook.

"Were you standing here yesterday?"

"No."

"Aha!"

"We were asleep."

"A convenient alibi."

Rich exchanged a glance with Peter.

Peter quietly whispered,

"Should we run?"

"That would make us look guilty."

"We already apparently do."

Batman dramatically flipped three notebook pages despite writing absolutely nothing.

"I am Batman.."

He pointed toward the quest board.

"This..."

dramatic pause,

"...is no longer merely a missing potion."

Another pause.

"It..."

Longer pause.

"...is a case. A case for Batman."

Nobody spoke.

A tumbleweed rolled through the town square despite there being no deserts within eight hundred miles.

Batman narrowed his eyes at it.

"...Interesting. It escaped questioning."

He chased the tumbleweed.

Peter watched him disappear around a corner.

"...Is he always like this?"

An old merchant nearby answered without looking up from polishing apples.

"Worse."

A familiar voice drifted across the square.

"Oh good."

Shadowheart.

The sassy, sarcastic cleric approached carrying enough healing supplies to survive an apocalypse.

She stopped beside them.

Saw the quest.

Closed her eyes.

Counted to five.

Opened them again.

"...Tell me you aren't taking that."

Fooly smiled. “Yeah Rich. Tell her we aren't taking it.” He said as he nudged Rich closer to Shadowheart.

Rich couldn't help but feel his cheeks turn pink. Right then Peter chimed in,

"We're absolutely taking that."

"I knew I shouldn't have asked."

She sighed with the exhaustion of someone who regularly healed people from injuries caused by their own spectacularly bad decisions.

"I've already resurrected Gerald twice this month."

Rich blinked.

"...Twice?"

"He insisted lava was 'probably symbolic.'"

"It wasn't."

Almost on cue—

"FRIENDS!"

Gerald came sprinting across the square wearing brand-new armor that gleamed heroically.

"I HAVE A PLAN."

Shadowheart looked horrified.

"You don't even know what we're doing."

"I don't need details."

"You desperately need details."

"I've already bought rope."

"...Why?"

"I don't know yet."

Nobody questioned it.

Experience had taught them not to.

A loud crash interrupted the conversation.

Everyone turned.

A market stall exploded.

Vegetables flew everywhere.

A tiny blur darted through the chaos.

Orange eyes.

Tiny paws.

An expression of pure hatred.

The raccoon.

It emerged carrying Batman’s notebook.

Batman screamed.

"My evidence!"

The raccoon hissed.

Then, with astonishing confidence, climbed onto the fountain, made direct eye contact with every single person present...

...and threw the notebook into the air.

A passing owl caught it.

The owl flew away.

The raccoon nodded once, apparently satisfied with its work.

Then stole Gerald's wallet.

Then Rich's map.

Then Peter's favorite pen.

Then it vanished into the rooftops before anyone managed more than three confused steps.

Silence settled over the square.

Gerald slowly pointed upward.

"...Did..."

Peter finished the sentence.

"...Did we just get robbed by a raccoon?"

Batman stood with his arms crossed.

Face completely serious.

"I've been pursuing that criminal for three years."

Shadowheart stared.

"You have a nemesis."

"I have an archrival."

"That's worse."

"It once framed me for stealing enchanted cheese."

"...Did you?"

"That is no longer the issue."

Rich looked toward the rooftops where the raccoon had disappeared.

Something told him...

This was going to be a much, much longer adventure than recovering a single runaway potion.

And somewhere, deep within Briarwood Forest, hidden beneath ancient trees older than kingdoms themselves...

Something laughed.

Not cruelly.

Not kindly.

Just...

Expectantly.

As though the forest itself had been waiting for these particular idiots to wander inside

Wedding: The Musical (Sorta, Not Really)

By: Gerald Butler

 

Luke had always dreamed of a classy wedding.

Unfortunately, he invited Rich, Fooly, Peter, and Vinny.

The invitation simply said, "Dress however you like." To four lifelong gamers, that wasn't a suggestion—it was a legally binding quest.

Rich arrived first, dressed as a six-foot-six paladin in gleaming "mithril" armor made entirely from spray-painted plastic. Every step sounded like someone dropping a toolbox down a staircase. He insisted on greeting the bride's grandmother with, "May Bahamut bless this union," before accidentally kneeling and getting stuck on one knee for fifteen minutes.

Fooly came as a chaotic bard with a fake lute and absolutely zero self-control. Instead of saying hello, he'd loudly announce, "I roll to seduce the bartender!" every time he wanted another drink. By cocktail number three, half the guests had started responding with, "Roll for persuasion."

Peter decided subtlety was for commoners and showed up as an archmage complete with a seven-foot staff topped with a glowing crystal. He refused to use normal words all evening. Need another chair? "I cast Summon Seating." Looking for the restroom? "I seek the Chamber of Relief." When the officiant asked if anyone objected, Peter dramatically raised his staff before declaring, "The wizard objects... to the lack of dragons!" Luke's heart stopped for a full second.

Then there was Vinny.

Vinny showed up dressed like he'd just dropped out of the Battle Bus. He wore a bright, over-the-top Fortnite-inspired outfit with neon colors, tactical gear that served absolutely no purpose, and a foam pickaxe slung over his shoulder like it was the most normal thing in the world. But the real masterpiece was the homemade cardboard sign hanging around his neck that proudly read:

"I CLEANED MY ROOM."

Nobody knew why that was what the sign said. And Vinny would only say "Im witterally doing the gwiddy wight not" While he was absolutely not doing the Griddy. And then would switch off to do the 6/7 hands.

The photographer tried to gather everyone for family pictures.

Rich insisted the group should form a defensive shield wall.

Peter demanded magical battle formations.

Fooly started playing an off-key rendition of "Never Gonna Give You Up" on his fake lute.

Vinny interrupted by yelling, "Everybody hit the emote!" before breaking into an absurd dance in the middle of the bridal party, all while proudly holding his "I CLEANED MY ROOM" sign over his head like he'd just won the Fortnite World Cup. To everyone's horror—and eventual amusement—three cousins joined in.

At the reception, things escalated.

Rich challenged the best man to honorable arm wrestling "to determine initiative."

Peter attempted to identify the wedding cake's magical properties by waving his staff over it.

Fooly convinced an entire table to toast by yelling, "For experience points!"

Vinny circled the dessert table with his foam pickaxe, pretending to "harvest materials," then planted his sign next to the cake like it was a historical landmark. Several guests spent ten minutes trying to decode what "I CLEANED MY ROOM" meant before giving up and deciding it was probably some new Gen Z slang.

The DJ finally announced the dance floor was open.

Rich performed what he claimed was a ceremonial dwarven victory dance.

Peter spun his staff like Gandalf, nearly taking out the chandelier.

Fooly started a conga line he called "The March of the Goblin Horde."

Vinny yelled, "Last squad standing!" before launching into another Fortnite dance, somehow never putting down the sign. By the end of the song, even Luke's uncle was dancing beside him while holding one side of the cardboard.

By the end of the night, Luke looked around at his wedding photos. Instead of elegant guests, he saw a paladin saluting with a chicken wing, a bard singing into a breadstick, a wizard blessing the dessert table, and one inexplicably colorful Fortnite character flossing next to the flower girl while triumphantly displaying a sign that read, "I CLEANED MY ROOM."

Luke sighed, laughed, and said, "I wanted a wedding..."

His friends raised their glasses.

Rich shouted, "To the happy couple!"

Peter added, "May your saving throws always succeed!"

Fooly yelled, "Roll for happily ever after!"

Vinny held his sign high one last time, struck a victory pose, and grinned.

"Victory Royale."

Nobody could argue with that.

Farm Crossed Lovers

By:Bridgette

  His back hooves tapped nervously on the floor behind him, a nervous tic he’d had since his childhood days. His soft blue eyes stared at the screen, reading the message preview again…and again…and again. Such a simple request, the kind that most people in his position would have jumped up to answer, but it struck nothing but fear into his heart. 

 

1 new message from GallopGirl84

Hay, wanna come over?

 

 Eugene stared at the message over and over again. It wasn’t the first time a girl he’d met online had asked him out. He’d had at least a dozen first dates that began the same way. He’d been down this road before, and the destination remained the same despite the twists and turns each conversation took. 

 

  He considered himself to be a likable guy. He knew how to open a conversation with a fun, flirty line, and when he got a laugh, things could get more serious (because anyone who didn’t share his sense of humor wasn’t someone he wanted to get to know better - he had done this enough times to be a bit picky). If things went well enough, if the conversation flowed and they hit it off, pictures would come through…but only from the shoulders up, in his case, at least. Sometimes, that alone was enough to dissuade a potential lover from continuing their conversation. 

 

 When he really liked a girl, when they finally agreed to meet in person, that’s when things really went off the rails. He’d put on his “funeral suit” - a nickname he had given it at this point because every time he wore it, it spelled the end of a relationship, dead on arrival. He’d pull back his hair, gather a bouquet from his back garden, and arrive at the door right on time, a perfect gentleman. 

 

  The door would open. His date would lay their eyes on him. Just one look…and they would run away. 

 

 GallopGirl84 - or Katie, as he had recently been told - was the most beautiful girl that Eugene had ever met. She was funny. She had grown up on a farm, just as he had, and they never ran out of things to talk about, from music to movies. If there was anyone that made Eugene wish he was anything but half a man, it was her. And the thought of being rejected by her made his heart race, pulsing through the frogs of his hooves. 

 

  Before he could decide how to respond, a follow up message arrived. 

 

 1 new message from GallopGirl84

My father’s out of town, and I’m having some friends over. It would be v low stakes! No pressure, but…I’d really like to meet you in person. :) 

 

  Oh man. Her and  her friends? She wanted to introduce him to her friends? 

 

Eugene couldn’t just leave her on read. He had to make a choice. He looked at the photo of his parents on the desk beside him and decided he must be brave. They never would have met if his father hadn’t been brave enough to show his mother who he truly was, even if ultimately their relationship wasn’t meant to last. 

 

 1 new message from LeanGreenGeneMachine

What time does the party start?

 

//

 

  At 6:05pm, Eugene approached the front door of the house. His funeral suit was on, flowers in hand, hand shaking as he gently pressed the doorbell. At least, he thought, if she was horrified when she took in who he truly was, she would have friends there to look after her, and maybe even laugh it off. As much as it hurt him to think about, it was better than some dates.

 

  The door opened. Katie was there. She looked at him, her smile fading to shock. 

 

  Before she could speak, Eugene thrust the bouquet at her, looking away. 

 

 “I’m a half horse half man!” he cried, a nervous neigh following. 

 

  The secret was out. He braced himself for the inevitable. How could she ever understand? How could she ever love him right? His legs shivered with anticipation to run off into the night.

 

 And then..

 

 “Are these flowers for me?” 

 

  Eugene looked back at Katie, who now seemed delighted. Did…did she not see it? The very obvious horse body coming from his torso, was…was she missing something?

 

 “I…y-yes, they are,” he told her. “I…I grew them myself, in…you…you aren’t afraid of me?”

“What? No.” Katie shook her head. “Eugene, my handle is Gallup Girl. Do you think I’m afraid of horses?”

“But I’m…I’m not a horse, or a man, I’m…a-a freak, a creature of the night, the kind of thing that people write stories about and dress up as for Halloween as a joke, I…I’m sure you don’t want to be with me.” He looked away again. “I should go.”

“No!” 

 

  Katie grabbed both of Eugene’s hands that were still clutching the outstretched bouquet. Eugene met her gaze. She looked at him so kindly, not with pity or judgement or disgust. 

 

 “Eugene, I don’t care what you are,” she told him. “Half horse, half man, half Canadian…I really like you. I want you to come in and meet my friends and enjoy this party with us. Will you? Please?”

 

  Eugene was stunned at first, too stunned to respond. Was this really happening? This wasn’t a dream? Or some sort of joke?

 

 “Yeah.” Eugene broke out into a grin. “I’d…I’d love to come in and join your party.”

 

 “C’mon then, get in here!” Katie said triumphantly, tugging him in the door with a surprising amount of strength. 

 

  Katie introduced Eugene to her friends, and…they were all surprisingly cool with who (and what) he was. In fact, they treated him like he was just one of the guys. There were no embarrassing questions about his biology, no odd looks, no one asking to ride him (though, he wouldn’t mind if Katie did…). For once in his life, he felt normal. 

 

 As Katie’s friends began to leave for the night, Eugene tasked himself with helping her clean up the party. He wasn’t very good at picking things up at ground level, but he was perfectly built to get streamers down, or balloons that had stuck to the ceiling. He could also carry all the trash out to the bins in one swift go. 

 

  “I had a great time tonight,” he told Katie as he returned to collect his jacket and tie. “Really, I did. I hope we can do this again sometime.”

 

 “Oh…do you have to go?”
 

  Eugene raised an eyebrow. The party was over. The guests had gone home. Did…did Katie want to…?

 

 “If…if you can stay a little longer,” Katie added, “I was hoping to show you my room. I think you’d like it.” 

 

 Eugene’s hooves clopped excitedly in place for a moment, his heart skipping a beat. She did. He nodded and walked over to her, taking her hand.

“Lead the way.”

 

  //

 

 Hank approached the front door of his house, whistling softly to himself. What a great game. East Sports Team had really kept him on the edge of his seat, but West Sports Team had ultimately pulled off a hail mary and moved on to the next event in the Sports Tournament. The whole bar had celebrated with another round of drinks and even a bit of karaoke - he still had this song about dim sum stuck in his head. These OCT guys made some catchy tunes!

 

  Originally, he had been planning to stay over at his brother’s house for the night. The two were planning to spend the next day organizing a trip with a few of their friends down to Myrtle Beach later that year, but Chuck had come down with a flu, so he decided it was best to just head home. Maybe he and his daughter could plan a trip of their own, or at least do something together in town the next day.

 

  As he approached the front door, he noticed something, noise coming from inside the house. He recognized the voice of his daughter, Katie, laughing and talking to someone. Then he heard another voice, though. A man’s voice, one he didn’t recognize. 

 

  Hank sighed to himself. He had asked Katie to give him a heads up when she was having friends over. Sure, she didn’t know if he would be home or not, but he was a pretty protective father, and she was always talking to these…these guys on the internet. He didn’t want his daughter getting into any trouble. 

 

  He opened the door and headed inside. The laughter down the hall was replaced with whispers and frantic shuffling. Hank cringed. Oh boy. As he got closer, he could hear the frantic voices. 

 

 “You have to hide!” 

 

 “Where!? I’m half a horse!”

 

  …half WHAT?

 

  He rushed to the door and threw it open and there, to his horror-

 

 //

 

 “IS THAT A HALF HORSE HALF MAN LAYING NAKED IN MY DAUGHTER’S BED!?!?!”

 

  Well…this was about the worse case scenario that Eugene could have conjured up. 

 

 Katie had shown him her room, and it was like she was hand picked for him. She had always wanted to be a cowgirl. And, speaking of cowgirl, that was something she was pretty forward about asking Eugene once he had taken in the room. And really, the fun  had just been getting started when they were rudely interrupted. 

 

  Katie had said her dad was away for the night. That was turning out to be a lie. Katie had told him to hide, but it wasn’t like he could get under the bed or something. He was half a horse for crying out loud! He could only stare in horror as the door flew open, Katie’s father standing there looking both horrified and furious. 

 

  “Yes - he is a half horse half man,” Katie said, very calmly in Eugene’s opinion. 

 

 “You…someone better explain this! Help me understand!” The man was starting to turn red. 

 

 Eugene couldn’t hold back the anxious ramble that spilled out. 

 

 “My mom’s my mom, my dad’s a horse. They got together. They had me, and…well, and then they divorced when I was a teenager, it was actually a bit traumatic-”

 

 “Stop! Enough!”

 

 Katie’s father held his head in his hands. Eugene’s panic was growing. It was just as he feared. He knew this whole setup was too good to be true. 

 

 “Dad, please,” Katie started, but Eugene was getting up from the floor, scrambling past them and out of the room. “Gene, wait!”

 

  It was too late to stop him, though. Eugene was off down the country road that led up to the house and headed for the open plains that bordered his forest home. He had lost Katie. He had lost the best thing he’d ever found. 

 

  Maybe no one could truly love a half horse half man. 

 

  //

 

 “No daughter of mine is going to date some…some mutant hybrid!” 

 

 Hank was baffled by the whole scenario. What in the world had gotten into his daughter? Where had he gone wrong?

“It was all that My Little Pony stuff, wasn’t it?” he rambled. “And the Barbie movies. I should have known! It’s…it’s fine, it’s fine, we can find you a nice, respectable cowboy-”

 

 “Dad, I love him.” 

 

 “You…what?” 

 

 “I love him.” Katie had gotten herself up and dressed in a robe, grabbing her favorite cattleman hat and a lasso hanging beside her bed. “And I’m gonna go get him. And if you can’t be happy for me, well…you’ll never know your grandponies.”

 

 “Katelyn, listen to me!” Hank begged, holding out his hands. “Please don’t do this. You deserve better than a…a freak like that.”

 

 “I’m sorry, dad, but I’ve made up my mind already.” She stepped into her favorite westerns, walking out of the bedroom. 

 

 “Katie! You listen to me! Don’t you EVER bring that…that half horse half freak into this house again! You…you walk out of here, and you can never come back! It’s…it’s me or the horse, Katie! …Katie, please!”

 

  Hank dropped to his knees as his daughter disappeared out the door. Tears of rage and heartbreak poured down his cheeks. First his wife. Now his daughter, he thought miserably as he trudged to the kitchen, opening the fridge and retrieving a gallon of whole milk. He took a long swing, leaning against the fridge with a shuddering sigh.

 

  It always had to be a half horse half man. 

 

  //

 

 Eugene was almost home. He was almost to the border of the forest. He had stopped crying by now, letting the rush of wind through his messy hair whip away the excess moisture and bathe his skin in the chill of the night. Tonight, he was going to delete his account on GreenrPasturs. He would remain a lone centaur for all his days, with no one to grow old with or have foals, or-

 

  Something snagged around his shoulders. Eugene skidded to a halt. Was…was that…a rope? Who would be out here in the middle of the night roping in an empty meadow? Who…?

 

  “Katie?”

 

 “I was afraid I’d lost you.” Katie stepped closer to Eugene, while slowly pulling him closer by the rope. 

 

 “Your father is right,” Eugene said softly, looking down. “You deserve better than a…a half horse half man.” 

 

 “Genie…you have it all wrong.” Katie gently slipped the rope off. “I told you before and I’ll tell you again - I like you just the way you are. I…I love you.”

“You do?” Eugene’s eyes widened and his back hooves excitedly clopped against the grass. “I…I love you too, Katie. I want you to be my pard’ner, and come and live with me in my cabin. We can start our own family, and stop giving a damn about what other people think.” 

 

 “I feel the same way,” Katie assured him, pulling him into a hug. “My father’s just…old fashioned. We don’t need him around.”

 

 “My parents will love you,” Eugene added as they embraced. “They’ll be so happy to have you join the family.”

 

 “Then what are we waiting for?” Katie pulled back, smiling up at him. “Saddle up, pard’ner - we have a wedding to plan.”