Compass
© 2025 by Walter Reimer

Thumbnail art by  turnbolt



The three adventurers had left the riverside village behind two days ago, and so far the magic compass Lord Ahmaq had given Meredith was pointing straight north. “The Ghost Mountain shouldn’t be too far away now,” the paladin observed as she, the mage and the rogue struck camp and prepared to resume their trek.

“Hopefully,” Vesan said. “We’re starting to run short of supplies.”

Varan frowned. “Water’s not an issue,” she said. The plain they were walking across had several streams running through it. “How are the food supplies?”

The rogue consulted their inventories. “Maybe one day’s provisions. After that we have dried meat and hardtack – “

Clack! Clack!

Vesan paused and all three looked around, ears swiveling. “What was that?” she asked. Varan and Meredith shrugged, and the rogue remarked, “Good thing we have items to trade, if we have to.” The others agreed, and after everything was packed, they started on their way again.

The plain’s crisscrossing streams fostered the growth of various plants, including stands of trees along the banks. An oxbow curve in one creek held several weeping willows, and the trio steered well clear of the tree’s depressing influence. Stopping for a midday meal beneath some oak trees, the trio refilled their water bottles and started to relax.

The breeze shifted, and all three adventurers’ ears perked. Vesan immediately extended her claws and went up the nearest tree, shading her eyes and looking out over the landscape before pointing. “Dust cloud to the east,” the rogue said. “Headed this way.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Meredith said, and the three immediately packed up and got ready to parley or fight as circumstances demanded. The dust cloud grew closer as they prepared.

The approaching dust cloud fell away to reveal a caravan of maybe thirty vehicles powered by magic crystals, similar to what they’d seen in Ottokar City. These had two or three or four wheels, the larger ones having small houselike frameworks swaying atop them. The being driving the lead two-wheeled vehicle whistled and waved, and the entire caravan pulled to a halt as the driver dismounted and strode forward.

Meredith stepped forward, a paw on the hilt of her sword. Her armor wasn’t reacting, so it was likely that the group wasn’t corrupted. “Hello,” the palomino mare said.

The driver was a female armadillo. She stretched, her armored back creaking, and she said, “Hi.” She was wearing short trousers, a jacket made of feral leather with matching boots, and a billed cap. “Whatcha doing out here?”

“Just stopping for lunch,” Meredith replied. “We’re headed north.”

The armadillo looked around and gazed up at Vesan. “Uh huh. Looks like a nice spot for a break. Mind if we join you?”

Meredith glanced at her two companions. “Sure, if you have some food to trade. We’re running a little low.”

“Who are you?” Vesan asked from her perch in the tree.

The armadillo smirked. “I might be the Dark Lord,” she said, “but I have standards. Name’s Brandi, and we’re the Mobile Village of Vergogna.” She turned and waved, and the caravan moved to park in a semicircle just outside the copse of trees. Several more armadillos dismounted, and Meredith noted that like Brandi they were all female.

“Why a ‘mobile’ village?” Varan asked as Vesan dropped down from of the tree.

“Eh,” Brandi shrugged. “Never liked being settled down, none of us do,” and a few of her fellow travelers nodded as they started setting up tents and some began gathering fuel for a fire. The village included children, also armadillos and all female. “Had a guy down by the river tell me that I was a fine girl, and such a good wife I would be,” and she snorted. “All he wanted was to not have to hunt for a lover, so after he and I fucked I left.”

“Was he an armadillo?” Varan asked.

“Nah,” Brandi replied. She indicated a small crystal on a thong around her neck. “Magic,” she explained. “Guarantees daughters. Besides, we all prefer girls,” and she grinned as she looked Vesan up and down, apparently liking what she saw. “So, you say you want to trade for food, huh? Whatcha got?”

“Aka, we have these,” Varan said.

Brandi raised a scaly eyebrow. “A jar of Insta-Drone and gift certificates for MoistCo?” she asked before laughing. “Been to New Dar –“

“Yes,” Varan said. “But it’s just Dark City again. We killed the Mistress.”

“Wow! Really? Our mage, Deirdre, thought she felt something happen.” Brandi looked the trio over with newfound respect. “Well, this stuff would give you food for a day, but I’ll throw in two more days just for getting rid of the Mistress.”

“Thanks,” Meredith said.

The armadillo nodded and turned away to help get the impromptu village established.


***


The sun was setting as everyone finished dinner. Brandi set aside her plate and belched. “That was good,” she remarked to no one in particular. “You know,” she said to the three adventurers, “you should consider yourselves lucky.”

“Why?” Vesan asked.

“You’re all female,” the armadillo femme replied with an affable smile. “Men, solo or in a group, tend to end up invited to dinner whether they like it or not,” and she ostentatiously licked her lips.

The rogue half-drew her knives. “You – you practice cannibalism?”

“Not at all,” Brandi replied. “We do it quite well. No need to practice.” She snorted at the suddenly queasy expressions on Varan’s and Meredith’s faces. “Don’t worry; we save manflesh for special occasions. There’s a flock of feral sheep a day’s ride away,” and she laughed as Varan cast a cantrip to verify that they’d been eating mutton and not any particular person. “Oh yeah. Mage – Varan, was it?”

“Yes?”

“Deirdre wanted to talk with you after she puts her pups to bed. Compare notes, I guess – and you,” she said to Vesan, “if you feel lonely tonight I’m in the tent with the red pennant on the center pole, no pressure,” and with that she stood up and wandered off.

The three adventurers looked at each other. “Cannibal lesbians,” Meredith said.

“I can set up a ward, of course,” Varan said, drawing the hood of her robe forward and standing up. “That way we won’t end up being breakfast. Brandi’s telling the truth, but we have to be certain.”

“Good thinking.” Meredith looked up as Varan stood. “Going to go talk to Deirdre?”

“Yes. It’s a mage thing – “

“I understand.” The paladin turned to the rogue. “You going to take Brandi’s offer?”

Vesan smiled. “I might. See what information I can tease out of her.”

“Might be a good idea,” Meredith said, poking a stick at the fire and sending up a trail of sparks.


***


Varan came back to their camp a few hours later after discussing elemental magic with Vergogna’s resident magic-user, and she and Meredith bedded down for the night. Both femmes could hear the occasional soft moan or giggle coming from the nearby tents. “They sound like they’re having fun,” Varan whispered in Meredith’s ear.

“Yeah.” The paladin rolled over to face the mage. “Want to join the chorus?”

“Certainly.”


***


Meredith emerged from her tent to see Vesan adding some wood to the campfire. “Have fun last night?” the paladin asked, and at the rogue’s smile she said, “Never mind.”

Vesan sniffed. “As much fun as you and Varan had, yes.” Satisfied that the branches would ignite, Vesan added, “Brandi was quite good, and she gave me some useful information.” She took a stick and drew a few lines in the sand. "Vergogna’s been close to the Ghost Mountain over the years they’ve been roaming. They don’t get too close, though.”

“Oh?” Meredith asked.

“He levies a toll if they stray too close to the Mountain, terming it a ‘roaming charge.’ But look here,” and she pointed. “We’ll have to get past these low mesas before we reach the foothills, and after that there’s at least one town.”

“At least one?”

“Yes. Brandi mentioned a place called Rising Gorge.”

“Good morning,” Varan said as she left the tent, muttering a spell that cleared the air inside the makeshift shelter. She took a few breaths and uttered another spell, the ground rising and forming a low chair. Sitting down she said, “Sorry, just practicing.”

“That’s convenient,” Vesan said, and all three turned as Brandi came walking up to them.

Brandi paused to nuzzle Vesan, the vir returning the gesture, before the armadillo cleared her throat and spat in the fire. “Morning, all,” she said. “We’ll be on our way soon, but three days’ worth of food will be set aside for you.”

“Thank you again,” Varan said. She grinned. “For everything.”

“Any time our paths cross again,” Brandi said, “you’ll be welcome.” She gave Vesan a final hug and walked off to take down her tent while the rest of Vergogna made ready to resume their endless trek.


***


Two days later after crossing yet another stream, Meredith paused and fished out the magic compass. “What the - ?”

“What’s wrong?” Varan asked.

The paladin held out the compass and the mage and rogue looked at it. The compass needle was spinning around. “We’ve been headed in the right direction,” Meredith said, “but now this thing’s acting strangely.” She tapped it and the needle spun faster.

“Stand by,” the compass said. “Recalculating.” It began repeating the same three words.

“If the compass stops working," Vesan said in a worried tone, "we won’t be able to find the Mountain.”