Handbook of Erotic Fantasy: Birthday, Part 2/3 (Patreon)

Session 40:

Dear Diary,

Fighter mentioned that her birthday was coming up, so I figured it would be the perfect time to confess my feelings. What better way to declare your love than with a perfectly-thought-out gift? The only problem was that I had no idea what to get her. 

Thank goodness I have friends like Magus and Inquisitor to help me out. They were surprised when I told them how I felt about Fighter (Quiz did her whole arched-eyebrow thing), but in the end they were both super supportive. 

“Let’s take her for a night out,” said Magus. She always knows how to set the mood. 

“I’ve found a list of interior decorations that human females supposedly like,” said Inquisitor. “It will be interesting to gauge her reaction.” That struck me as a good idea (and kind of a weird thing to say), but I wanted to do something more personal. 

Diary? I almost blew it. There we were at Immovable Rod’s, and everyone was having a great time. Our birthday girl had a hat and a sash and a free cosmo, and Magus was already halfway drunk. She kept talking about reliving her “glory days” from the last adventure, and Inquisitor was laughing and egging her on, and Fighter was pretending not to want the lapdance we all bought for her. But meanwhile, I was a total wreck. 

I hadn't bought her anything! Jewelry is classic, right? But Fighter always makes such a big deal about “girly trinkets” getting in the way during battle. I thought about springing for a spa day at Barbarian’s salon, but Fighter insists on keeping her hair short. There’s just not much you can do with that, you know? A new weapon? Too expensive. Archery lessons? She’s already proficient. Maybe a nice bottle of elven wine? Fighter is an ale kind of girl, and a frosty mug doesn’t exactly scream romance. 

So there I was in the club, sick to my stomach and positive that I’d ruined my big chance. And there she was, up on stage with a (very) male half-orc, having the time of her life and zero clue about how miserable I was. And that’s when she said the words that confirmed my every suspicion. I’m positive that she was talking just to me when she said, “There's nothing I love more than big fat half-orc cock." 

I knew what I had to do then. I excused myself. I sprinted to Alchemist's shop. I ransacked the place looking for just the right “novelty item.” But Diary? Alchemist’s shop wasn’t the only store that was still open. The ORC-MEAT 3000 is only part one of the perfect gift. 

We’re back home now, and it sounds like the hammering has finally stopped. They’ve hung all of Inquisitor’s gifts in Fighter’s room, and everyone is getting ready for bed.

Wish me luck, Diary! We’re really about to do this.

--Ranger