Handbook of Erotic Fantasy: Self-Conscious (Patreon)

Getting the pizza wasn’t an issue. He’d dropped a quick sending to the nearest Pizza Goblin, asked for the special with extra garbage, then waited for the delivery wargi to come trotting up. Easy as pizza pie. It was the outfit that was the hard part.

“That’ll be two silver fifty. You wanted vole on that, right?”

“Right,” Arcane Archer said. He fished in his pockets. Looked down at the wargi. It was stumpy and adorable. More than a little like an overweight fox, all lolling tongue and dopey eyes.

“You need something else, pal?” the delivery goblin asked.

And he did. It was an integral part of the scenario. Running a suitably immersive “naughty delivery boy” roleplay required the right props. And delivery boy shirts were a common loot drop from common goblins. Arcane Archer hadn’t counted on the cuteness of the wargi.

“This is unfair,” he said. “I invented that trick.”

“Come again?” the goblin said. And it was the moment of decision. Arcane Archer paged furiously through his internal character sheet, trying to come up with alternatives to “kill the goblin and take his stuff.”

“How forgetful of me!” he hazarded. “You need a tip, don’t you?” He waggled his eyebrows, trying to put as much this-is-a-bribe energy into it as possible.

“Naw, I’m good. We’re union now. Got a living wage and everything. Skeleton crew gets an unliving wage too. Bunch of lucky stiffs.”

Arcane Archer frowned. “It’s a lovely shirt,” said the kitsune, looming as threateningly as he could. “It would be a shame if you were to get stains in the fabric. Red doesn’t come out so easily.”

“Eh, you see a lot of marinara in my line of work. Trust me, you hit that bad boy with a little white vinegar on a sponge, it’ll do the trick every time. Lemon juice works kind of OK too, but that's only when you’re dealing with your whites.”

Arcane Archer furrowed his brow. The wargi drooled. The pizza cooled. The goblin shifted uneasily on his feet.

“I should really get going now,” said the little greenskin.

“Hypnotic pattern,” said Arcane Archer, who then set about undressing the wide-eyed goblin.

“You know,” said the warrior to the wargi, “You are even cuter with your pupils dilated.”

And things ought to have gone smoothly from there. The pizza was still reasonably warm. The shirt fit reasonably well. Druid was stretched out on the bed in her very best “seduce the pizza goblin” pose, auburn braids draped artfully.

“Alright, lady!” said Arcane Archer, bustling up the stairs. “I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement. How about we add a little… a little bit of sausage to this… Erm.”

It was no good. The damned Allosaurus was looking right at him. The macho goblin voice died in his throat. Because even if dinosaur faces weren’t especially expressive, he was positive that Allie was laughing at him.