A Rodent of Unusual Size 1-1

A haze surrounds the area; the intrepid group of explorers traverse the gaping maw of the chasm’s darkest crevices, its stalactites intentionally sharpened into the shape of deadly fangs.  The smell of brimstone and charred flesh creates a miasma that makes your blood run cold.  The smoke eventually parts, revealing what lies ahead; a veritable trove of glittering gems and glimmering gold.  But the adventurers are not alone

A flap of leathery wings knocks the group off of their feet, scattering the smoke.  The monster’s wingspan is immeasurable in the dim light that shines through the crack in the ceiling, its rocky surface charred black as soot.  A pair of auric eyes pierce through the darkness, slitted irises narrowing as the monster eyes its prey.  Thick clawed digits sink into the stone underneath, tearing it asunder as if it were made of clay.  The winged creature moves forward with careful, considerate strides.

The adventurers had only the rumors of the dragon to go by, but nothing could describe the awesome immensity of it up close.  It towers above them, long neck craning upward.  Another flap of its wings cuts a sharp gale past the intrepid slayers as it rises up on its hind quarters.  The shadow it casts gives off a terrifying aura as it roars out loud.  The party holds its ears to shield itself from the roar as they struggle to return to their feet.

The mighty dragon speaks in an ancient tongue, at once abnormally familiar and alien.  Its deep tone is enough to rattle the adventurers’ bones, white teeth glistening as flickers of flame lick past.  “Leave this place, or become ash.”

Suddenly, the dragon’s left claw swipes forward, scattering the team as it crashes down mere inches away from the warlock.  It’s impossible to find a weakness among its armored red scales, each one glistening in the same matter as the horde of treasure it stanchly guards.  Yet one adventurer remains unfazed; a brown she-wolf, clad from head to toe in enchanted armor, its surfaces traced with runes to protect her from the dragon’s more horrifying attacks.  With a single battle cry, she unsheathed her greatsword, raising it up with one hand before lunging forward --

“Stop.”

A bespectacled squirrel looked up from her rulebook, glaring up at the complaining red fox across the table.  “What now?”

“You know what, Sheila,” he whined in a nasally tone.  His finger jabbed across the table at a grey mouse, dice in her small hand.  “There’s no way she should be able to do that!”

The grey mouse that the fox pointed at looked up, flustered.  She adjusted her glasses; a nervous tic accompanied by a flick of her thin tail.  “B-but...I’m following the rules.  I should be able to use my Lunging Strike, right?  I didn’t get knocked down --”

“Yes, but not as your first action!” the fox snapped back.  “You never prepared for combat, therefore you need to take an action to prepare for combat!  You can’t go from staring down a dragon to  ‘oh, marvel at my magnificence as I carve this mythical creature up like a baked ham’!”

“She made her saving throw,” a third player said; a grey-furred chinchilla, wearing a black shirt and matching tattered black jeans, wrists adorned with several leather bands.  Her numerous ear piercings across her giant auricles jingled as she turned her head.  “She can do whatever she wants.”

“So why did I have to waste my turn getting up?  I have the initiative --”

“Which you used to get up.  Which is an action.  Your only action, Robert.”

The fox groaned again, more dramatically.  “Ugh, we both know that rule is stupid.  I’m just standing up.”

The chinchilla rolled her eyes.  “Against a dragon roar.  And your warlock had a weak-ass roll, so yes, getting up for you is a problem.”  Rae’s finger flicked across the folded edge of her well-worn character sheet.

Sheila jumped up from behind her cardboard shield to interject.  “It’s not that big a deal, Robert.  You’re up against a red dragon, and I’d prefer your adventure didn’t end inside of its stomach.  At least not right away.”  She grinned, large incisors gleaming in the dimly-lit room.

“Hey, I’m getting hungry,” a fourth player chimed in, a heavy-set golden retriever, his floppy ears raising up.  “Mind if I order a pizza?”

“Whatever.  All you ever do is eat,” Robert griped.  “Just don’t get one with olives.  That shit’s gross.”

“So, half olives, half no olives.  Got it.”

Robert made a disgusted face.  “Ew!  No!  No olives means no olives.  Period!”

Rae shot the fox her best ‘I swear to God, if you don’t shut up, I’ll shove your tail down your muzzle and make you shut up’ look, resting her head in her hand.  Robert, however, paid it no mind; mostly due to his own belief that the goth chinchilla was more talk than action, but also because he was too pissed off to pay her any more attention than he felt she deserved.

“Alright, geez.  You’re no fun,” the retriever grumbled as he went upstairs to make the call.

“Are you done with your little tantrum?” the squirrel groaned.  “I draw the line at taking your pissy mood out on Ted.  You’re lucky he’s not sensitive about his weight.”

“No, I’m not done, Sheila.  Are we just gonna ignore that she’s using her Greatsword of Rr’Tak single-handed?  There’s both an attack penalty and a dexterity penalty, and we both know she ain’t doing shit against that dragon’s AC!”

“But...my character’s supposed to be strong,” the mouse girl added feebly.  “That’s...that’s something she’d do.”

“Yes, if you want to lose!”

“It’s not about winning or losing, Robert.  We’re just having fun,” Sheila said, bushy tail flat on the floor.

“For fuck’s sake, you always take her side, Sheila!  Y’know, while we’re at it, you ever notice she’s always playing some roided-out warrior goddess?  And a wolf, nonetheless?”

“So what?”

“So I think she’s trying to compensate for something, and it’s screwing up all of our games.”  Robert stood up from the table, walking over to the diminutive mouse.  She looked up over the rim of her glasses nervously.  The fox stood a good two feet taller than her, and sitting down didn’t help matters.  She squirmed in her seat, boosted by one of Sheila’s numerous rulebooks to better help her see over the table.

“Y-you’re...you’re scaring me,” she squeaked out.  Robert’s hands crossed over his chest, a snarl on his face.

“Face it, Vicki.  We both know you’re envious.  It’s no wonder you always play a big, bad predator.”  He smirked, leaning forward.  “Sucks being born a mouse, doesn’t it?”

Vicki’s face contorted as she looked down at the ground, hands squeezing at her skirt.  “I...I --”

“Okay, chill out!” Sheila shouted.  “You’re punching way below the belt.”

“What?  It’s true!”  Robert pointed down at Vicki, who looked even smaller by comparison as her shoulders hunched down.  “She always gets hung up on that kind of shit!  She just won’t admit it because she knows how pathetic it is to get all worked up about tall girls.  Especially since she can’t be one herself.”

“Her fantasies are none of your business,” Rae said.

“Hey, when someone breaks my immersion, I care.  I care a lot.  Maybe I want to be the tall, busty wolf woman warrior, did you ever think about that?”

Sheila chuckled mockingly.  “She’s roleplaying a fantasy character.  You’re acting out a fetish.  There’s a difference.”  Vicki flinched in her seat at Sheila’s insult.

Robert sputtered out, staring down furiously at the squirrel.  “That’s...I...I don’t have a fetish!”

Vicki’s cheeks began to redden as she looked away, tail curled around one of the chair’s legs.  She bit at her lip with her incisors as her embarrassment rose.

“Ugh.  Fine.  Maybe I got carried away,” Robert continued, regaining his posture.  “But you guys coddle her all the damn time, and I’m sick of it.”

“We don’t coddle her,” Sheila said.

“Oh yeah?  Then why does she look like a kid at the adult’s dinner table?”  His hand gestured toward Vicki’s booster.

Sheila’s composure began to break, a twinge of guilt crossing her expression.  “I...look, this is the longest table I have.  The legs are just a little long, too.”  She turned to look at Vicki.  “It has nothing to do with you, I promise.”

Vicki squeaked again, tugging at her skirt.  “I...don’t mind.  Really.  It helps me see everything.”

Robert opened his mouth again, but a switch flipped inside of his head; he quickly realized he was walking into a very unpleasant trap, and kept quiet.  The rest of the room fell into a hushed, awkward silence.

“Well.  This got weird,” Rae commented, reaching into her pocket for her phone, flipping it up to check the time.

“Sit back down, Robert.  We can play out the remaining turns until Ted gets back.”

“Feh.  Whatever.”  Robert turned around to return to his seat, finally leaving the grey mouse alone.  The discussion that followed as the game picked back up became nothing more than white noise as Vicki reviewed her character sheet with admonishment.  Her pink fingers squeezed on either side of the paper, rumpling it.

He was right.  Vicki’s she-wolf berserker was tall, strong, and confident.  Everything she wasn’t.  Everything she wishes she could be.

But that wouldn’t last much longer.  Not if everything went as planned.

“Um, sorry, I just noticed the time,” Vicki said quietly, swinging around to hop off the chair.  The extra boost caused her legs dangle off the chair, making dismounting more troublesome than she wanted to admit.  “I should probably head home.  I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

Sheila’s expression soured as she looked at Vicki.  “Wait, you’re leaving now?  We’re just about to get to the good part!”  She glanced over at the grumbling fox, then back at Vicki.  “If...if this has anything to do with what Robert said --”

“No, it’s not, I promise!  It’s my fault for losing track of time!”  Vicki raised her arms up, forcing a smile.  “I should have suggested a shorter game tonight.”

“I’m with Vicki.  I’m burned out on this one.” Rae said, tapping the buttons on her phone absentmindedly.  “We can put a pin on it until next week.”

The squirrel sighed, defeated.  “Fine.  But you owe me.  Pizza’s on you next week.”

“Deal,” Vicki said.  Robert looked down at the table grumpily, arms still over his thin chest.  He avoided making eye contact with her, choosing instead to mutter under his breath.  Vicki sighed, before heading up the stairs and out of the basement.  Ted made his way down at the same time, nearly running into the mouse girl as she squeezed past him at the last minute.

“W-wait, where are you --” he said, before looking down at the rest of the tabletop group.  “How are we gonna eat all the pizza I ordered?”

“More for you, I guess,” Sheila replied, earning a few short laughs from everyone else -- laughter that faded away from Vicki as grabbed her jacket off the couch.  She went up to a mirror that the squirrel set just by the front door.  Yep, still her.  All four-foot-nothing of her.  Short brown hair, thick glasses, a grey t-shirt darker than her fur, and a long black skirt.  As plain as she ever was.

“Ugh. This sucks,” Vicki whispered, slipping on her coat before she made her way outside.  It was unusually cold for a May evening, causing her to shiver slightly as she descended the stairs leading toward the sidewalk.  The street lights began to come to life, one after the other, lighting the way towards her apartment a few blocks down the road.  The distance was short, so she chose not to drive; remembering the last time she got behind the wheel brought a bigger frown to her face.  It was bad enough she had to prove her age to the DMV every time she went to renew her license (‘24 going on 14’, she heard one of the employees snicker out when they thought she was out of earshot), but the look on that officer’s face when she got pulled over the other week was utterly revolting.  No one made a habit of believing what a ‘cute little mouse’ had to say.

Well.  She’d prove them all wrong.  And this wouldn’t be one of her little stories she’d write to vent her frustrations -- and more eccentric fantasies -- out.  This would work.  Needed to work, had to work --

“Yo, Vicki!  Hold up!”

Vicki’s eyes focused as she turned to look at the chinchilla woman standing just behind her, wearing a black trench coat, hands shoved into the pockets.  She flashed a small smile.

“You’re leaving too?” the mouse asked.  Rae’s shoulders shrugged.

“Nah.  Ted forgot to order drinks, so Sheila put out a call to arms for sodas.  I volunteered to go."

Vicki looked down, smiling.  Despite her exterior, Rae was usually quite kind, and only saved her vitriol for the ones that deserved it.  In her case, that was still a long list, but never against Vicki.  “You don’t have to lie.”

“Heh.  Okay, ya got me.  I wanted to get away from Robert.  I dunno why we invite him to our games anymore.”

“He’s not that bad, Rae.  He’s just stubborn.”

Rae scoffed with another roll of her eyes.  “Stubborn and a rules freak.  The best of both worlds.”

That comment got a chuckle out of Vicki.  Perhaps it was the fact Rae was a rodent, like herself, but it felt good to have an ally, one that didn’t judge her for her appearance -- or her height.

“Seriously, though.  That was a low blow Robert pulled.  You doing okay?”

“Yeah.  As okay as I can be,” Vicki remarked.  She didn’t want to bring Sheila’s contribution to the table -- despite her efforts, it was easy to spot Sheila’s attempts at pity.  It wasn't lost on Rae, either.

“I get it.  I really do.  It sucks being short.”

“You’re not short, though.”

The goth chinchilla shook her head, scratching the edge of her mouth, lips covered in jet black lipstick.  “5 feet of sand rat is still short.  The boots help.”  She tapped the toe of her raised boot on the sidewalk.  “That’s just how it is for us rodents.  Unless you were born a rat or a squirrel, you get used to looking up at people.  But hey, it could be worse.  You could have been born a smelly fox.”

Vicki let out a long sigh.  “Oh my goodness, thank you.  I’m glad I’m not the only one who noticed Robert didn’t shower today.”

“I don’t think he’s ever heard of soap.  But the smell and the attitude aside, he does make a good spellcaster.”  Rae shuffled her feet, looking down the sidewalk behind her.  “I really should get those drinks before the others start complaining.  Wanna come with?”

“N-no.  I really should get home.”

“Suit yourself.  Same time next week?”  Vicki nodded, scoring another short smile out of Rae.  “Wicked.  See ya then.”

“Bye.”  Rae and Vicki shared one final wave before going their separate ways.  Vicki watched the chinchilla go, bushy tail wagging ever so subtly.  Rae meant well, Vicki knew that.  But despite the chinchilla’s efforts, it didn’t alter the truth of things.  Vicki was small, cute, and weak.  She wouldn’t mind so much if society didn’t make her stature feel like a limitation or a subject for mockery.  Sure, it applied to all mice to some degree, but that didn’t make it right.  And it was high time that changed.

Reaching into her pocket, she took out her cell phone, flipping the top half up.  She tapped the buttons to dial out to her friend, waiting for her to answer.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end answered.  “That you, Vicki?”

“Yeah.  Meet me at my place in an hour.  We’re running a field test.”

“...wait, tonight?  I thought you said you needed to tweak a few things.”

“The parameters are fine.  An extra week or two won’t make a difference.”

“But it isn’t ready.  We still haven’t found a sample to use for the test --”

“Don’t worry about that.  Just meet me in an hour.  I’ll make the final preparations.”

“What prep --”  The other voice on the line went dead silent.  “Oh, my God.  You’re not serious.  Are you?”

Vicki sighed into the receiver, gripping the phone tighter.  “Only one way to find out, don’t you think?”