HELLTIDE!

Lyndon reached the desecrated fields. Tides of hell washed over the secluded reaches near the western shore. Rewards were to be given upon purging the land of their foul presence. A task given to him by the crows, fickle as they were, their coffers held the most gold and best items. He cleared a path to the maidens of blood. Their dark ritual would bring forth horrors not seen by man in an age. Though they brought him great frustration, he kept the minions after being forced to endure sensitivity training—a harrowing ordeal of feelings and learning acceptance. An unlikely choice, but doing so allowed him to keep his current gear. a boon given how difficult finding replacements had been.

With his target in sight, he engaged his buffs and prepared for an onslaught of carnage.

“Attack the foul creatures; we will no longer allow their kind to blight this world!” Lyndon summoned his enchanted scythe. “Minions advance!”

“Lyndon, we talked about how your tone might be mistaken for aggression. If I may suggest a friendlier approach and wording? It likely will lead to less trauma?” Jerry said.

Lyndon turned to see the new and improved instigator of minion rights.

Jerry donned a blazer and tie; no longer was he Jerry the mishappen undead. A new day dawned, and he took on the name Jerry, head of undead resources. With the minion army unionized, Lyndon no longer needed to shout commands. Instead, filling request forms to be sent up the management chain was the order of the day. He sacrificed speed and efficiency for a better insurance premium and increased worker retention.

“Can you meet me in my office for a team-building exercise?” Jerry waved him over to a chair and a table tucked neatly into a graveyard next to a cracked headstone. “Leadership takes practice.”

Lyndon’s eyes widened as one of the maidens rained hellfire down upon them. Swirling fonts of blood spewed corruption all around the battlefield, sending him into a defensive stance. More demons charged in, wave after wave fell to his magical scythe, but their forces did not wane.

“Damn it all, Jerry, stop being so—“

“Now now, do we tolerate that kind of language?” Jerry took out a notepad and brought his glasses down to the tip of his nose. “Would you say this is a common outburst?”

“Stop being an idiot!” Lyndon said.

A demon lord burst forth from the ground and grabbed Lyndon, raising him into the air. Its roar burned with the intense heat of the burning hells. Its grip tightened, even as he struggled, but nothing would break him free without extreme force.

Using his free hand, Lyndon called upon the Eldritch magic and summoned a flesh colossus. A monstrosity of steel and blood, fused into an unspeakable horror, bound to destroy everything in its path. The ground erupted, giving way to his most powerful creation.

“Kevin here!” The colossi adjusted his Hawaiian shirt and knocked the dust from his khaki shorts. “How can I help?”

Lyndon, using his free hand, slapped his forehead and stopped fighting. His hand fell to his side, and his head leaned back. “Let death take me; no hell can be worse than dealing with this kind of buffoonery.”

His eyes closed, and as the hellspawn brought Lyndon's head to meet its teeth. A horrendous sound pierced the hellish battlefields. matching that of a small child screaming obscenities.

““Fuuuuuuuuu—”

Lyndon opened one eye and saw a paladin wearing a bear costume falling from the sky. He glanced at the hellspawn and it at him.

“Just kill me; that idiot is going to make things much worse.” Lyndon threw his arms open and waited for the end. “Ain't getting any younger!”

The hair across Lyndon's body stood on end as an itch spread across his skin. Before his eyes opened again, several bolts of lightning crashed down onto him and the hellspawn. Damage from a friendly team member was minimal, but the hellspawn disintegrated after the first hit. The remaining hits jolted Lyndon over and over, leaving him shaking.

“Roar… roar… what do you think? I’m a druid now!” Bubs said.

He dropped onto all fours and ran around, letting out what he believed to be a guttural roar each time he passed Lyndon.

Lyndon ignored the idiocy and went back to his plan. He brushed the dirt and ash from his robe before setting his sights on the blood maiden.

“Yet you're still a moron. And why the bear costume?” Lyndon stared off for a moment and turned back to Bubs. “Wait, don't bother; I don't actually care.”

Bubs ignored the statement and put his arm around Lyndon. “ Well, the gambling guy, you know the one we swear doesn't have pants, he said if I wear this outfit, it will bestow upon me the power of the druid, and I can harness the nature magic around us. Cool, right?”

“ You're dumb. Please leave me alone; I wish to die in peace.” Lyndon walked toward the blood maiden. “Also, I hate all of you.”

Jerry floated into his path. “ I know this is a difficult time. Have you considered therapy or some form of rehabilitation? We're a team, and you matter… to us.” Jerry wiped his eye socket as though he were crying. “Come on, champ, let’s get you the help you need.”

Lyndon threw his weapons down. He took a scroll from his bag and grimaced at the pair before him. “Morons.” he summoned a town portal and abandoned the activity.