Robert Asprin: M.Y.T.H.-Interpretations: The Worlds of Robert Asprin

If their builds and manner weren’t enough of a giveaway, their outfits completed the picture. The Pervect, Pookie, was wearing one of her favorite action leather jumpsuits with multiple zippers which both insured a skin tight fit and held the tools of her trade. The Klahd, Spyder, was still working on her look, but today had settled for calf-high boots with fishnet stockings, a dark plaid mini-skirt, and a sleeveless black leather halter top which left considerable portions of her mid-drift bare. All in all, she looked like a parochial schoolgirl gone Goth gone biker slut. What united their outfits were the accessories, which was to say the weapons. Throwing stars and knife hilts jutted from their sleeves and belts, along with various mysterious instruments a viewer hoped they would never see close enough to examine carefully.

The fact that this mismatched duo and their weaponry went practically unnoticed was an indication of the normal atmosphere and clientele of the tavern they were ensconced in.

“If I’m not slow, then why is it taking me so long to figure out this whole adventurer thing?” Spyder countered.

“Well, not to make too big a thing of it,” Pookie said, “for one thing you’re still young. I’ve been at this game for a couple centuries…we’ll not dwell on exactly how many…and you’ve only been at it for a few months. It takes a while to get the hang of anything new. Just be patient and listen to your big sister.”

“I guess it’s just not what I was expecting is all.” Spyder said, almost to herself.

“Really?” her green companion said. “Maybe we’ve been going at this backwards.

This time, why don’t you explain to me what it was you thought adventuring involved.”

“I don’t know. I was thinking we’d be doing bodyguard work or something.”

Pookie heaved a sigh.

“We’ve gone over this before, little sister. First of all, we don’t have the manpower to do real bodyguard work. To do the job right, it takes at least a six person team to guard someone around the clock. You keep forgetting that we’d have to sleep sometime.”

“But Guido and Nunzio guard Skeeve as a two man team.” Spyder insisted stubbornly.

“From what I understand, They were assigned to Skeeve by Don Bruce primarily as an honor guard.” Pookie said. “Besides, there are a lot more people on the team watching over Skeeve than just Guido and Nunzio.”

“But…”

“…And even if we were to hire on as a token show force, believe me, you wouldn’t like it.” Pookie continued. “Remember, we’re female, and like it or not that influences the people who hire us. Believe me, the kind of swell headed, self-centered celebrity types who hire female body guards are primarily looking for arm candy.

The pay might look good, but they’re not really people you want to hang around for any length of time. Usually, by the end of the job, you’re ready to kill them yourself.”

“So what is it exactly that adventurers do?” Spyder said.

Her green companion took a long swallow from he flagon.

“If you scrape away the bardic lyrics and all the escapist literature romantics, what it all boils down to is that basically adventurers are either thieves or killers…or both.”

Spyder leaned back and blinked.

“How’s that again?”

“Look at it close.” Pookie shrugged. “If you’re going after a treasure or artifact, it means you’re taking it away from someone who think’s it’s theirs…even if they stole it themselves originally. That’s stealing. Even if you’re unearthing or re-discovering a long lost item, by law it belongs to whoever’s property it is that you’re on at the time. If you don’t hand it over and maybe settle for a reward, if you try to smuggle it out without admitting you’ve found anything, that’s still stealing.”

“On the other hand, there’s the ‘slay the monster/bandit who is terrorizing the neighborhood,’ or the traditional ‘rescue the princess/damsel for the evil whoever.’ Both of those bluntly involve killing.”

“Um…Pookie?” Spyder said slowly. “If those are really the choices, I think I’d rather do thieving assignments if we can manage it. I mean, I try to be tough and put on a good front, but I really don’t think of myself as a killer.”

“If you say so.” Pookie shrugged. “I’ll keep it in mind. Personally, I lean toward the killing side, myself. There’s usually less risk involved.”

“Now, I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Spyder said, “but Skeeve and his M.Y.T.H.

Inc. crew don’t seem to fit with what you’re saying.”

“Don’t forget that crew is pretty much top of the heap right now.” Pookie said.

“As near as I can tell, it’s taken them over ten years to work their way up into the position they’re in, where people come to them with work. I’ll bet you, though, if you look closely at some of their early work, it involved things that wouldn’t stand up to close scrutiny. For example I know for a fact that Tananda was primarily an assassin before she hooked up with Skeeve. And as for Aahz…I probably shouldn’t speak ill of my own cousin, but he’s always been one of the family’s black sheep. If anything, I was surprised to find out he was involved in something that was even vaguely legitimate.”

“I guess you’re right.” Spyder sighed. “Even Skeeve had to start somewhere. Of course, he had a Pervect for a trainer.”

“Don’t forget, little sister.” Pookie winked, “so do you. I’m not one to brag, but if I can’t teach you as well or better than Aahz taught Skeeve, I’ll hang it up. If nothing else, I think I’ve got better material to work with from the get go.”

“Thanks, Pookie.” Spyder smiled. “That means a lot to me.”

“Don’t mention it.” Pookie said, holding up her flagon for her companion to clink with. “If nothing else, it beats the military gig you jus got clear of.”

“No question there.” Spyder nodded.

She took a long pull of her own drink, then set it on the table with a decisive thump.

“So, how do we go about looking for work?”

Pookie cocked her head in surprise.

“Why, exactly what we’re doing now. What did you think we were doing?”

“The same thing we’ve been doing for the last month.” Spyder shrugged. “Sitting around a tavern and drinking. Frankly I’ve been wondering when we were going to get started adventuring.”

Pookie held her hand over her eyes for a few long moments before responding.

“Look, dear,” she said finally, “remember what I was saying about us being pretty much criminals? Well, the old adage that ‘Crime does not pay’ is actually a shortened form of ‘Crime does not pay well.’ Well, in our line of work, that means that either you do a lot of little jobs…which ups the odds of something going wrong…or few big jobs and live on the proceeds between.”

“So what does that have to do with us sitting around a tavern?” Spyder frowned.

“I’m coming to that. Now there’s primarily two ways of finding work. Either we roam around and try to pick up a rumor or situation that takes our fancy, or we sit in one place and let the information come to us. Taverns in general are gold mines of information, and one’s like this that caters to dimension travelers of all types are prime places to hear about a specific caper.”

She glanced toward the door.

“Speaking of which, here comes a likely prospect now. Let me take the lead here.

Little sister.”

Spyder turned to follow Pookie’s gaze.

Just inside the door, steadying himself on the back of a chair, was a warrior.

His chain mail, helmet, and sword marked him as such, even though the body that was wearing it was rotund and hairy, topped with a head that sported a pig snout and tusks. Also noticeable was the fact that his left arm was in a sling and he moved with a noticeable limp.