“All right, all right, I lost the bet. I’ll tell ye the tale of how I came to be known as Olli Doom Shitter.” The grizzled man took a long pull from his mug let out a satisfying belch, wiped the foam from his beard and began. “Och, this would have been forty-some years ago, when I was even younger than any of you worthless c*nts. Me pa had just died in a mining accident and me ma had been dead for years leaving me all on my own with barely two coppers to my name. Well I got it into me head that I was gonna make me a fortune as a monster hunter. So I sold what little possessions I had and spent most of it on a decent warhammer, for I knew a good weapon was the most important thing when monster hunting. With the meager amount I had left after getting the hammer and a few days’ worth of rations, I got m’self an old patched together leather jerkin and a pair of leather trousers so ill-fitting the seams were stretching. So off I set for Kriten determined to find a veteran hunter to take me under his wing and teach me the trade. Or failing that I figured I’d start killing wee beasties meself until I’d enough experience and earned enough of a name to go after the big contracts. Well anyway, I got lucky; within hours of asking around in Kriten I got pointed in the direction of a semi-famous hunter known as One-Eyed Martin. Now Ol’ One-Eye, as everyone called him, was born in the Zarkan desert and had spent the last thirty years hunting monsters all over the world. But his real passion was cooking. He had decided he wanted to retire and open a restaurant, ya know bring a taste of Zarkan to Kriten. But he needed a more coin to do it, so he was looking for a couple of stout young lads who were willing to give up a substantial portion of their cut of the bounties in exchange for the wisdom and experience he could provide. Well, I figured that was about the best offer I was likely to get so I eagerly signed up. He already had another with him, a burly young dwarf by the name of Ruggar. And he had a contract all ready. An arknis nest had been plaguing a small town, we were to go in wipe it out and kill the queen so it couldn’t reform. Bout as straight forward as contracts get. We set out that very night and for the next four days Ol’ One-Eye imparted his wisdom to us and cooked for us every night. Let me tell you that man had a gift. He turned trail rations into some of the best damn meals I have ever had. The morning we arrived at the cave that held the nest he told us one of the most important things you can do when fighting monsters is to face them with a belly full of fire. He then prepared the spiciest goat curry this world has ever known. I’m surprised the broth itself didn’t burst into flames. But fuck me if it wasn’t the tastiest thing I ever ate. It was like swallowing hot coals but I couldn’t stop till I’d had three bowls. Our bellies now appropriately full of fire we headed into the cave. It slopped down slowly at first then bottomed out into a small chamber with three or four side passages. After a couple minutes looking for signs of which passage to take, we heard skittering echoing down the rock wall of the rightmost tunnel. The passage was narrow but high though some of the stalactites were so large we had to duck around them. Within a few moments we caught sight of the first of our prey. A couple of arknis digging at a wall. Now I don’t know if any of you lads have ever seen an arknis but they’re ugly fucking buggers. Bout the size of a large dog with the back end of beetle and the front of a mantis but with crab claws instead of scythes. Ol’ One-Eye motioned for Ruggar and me to stay back and went charging ahead with his two-handed sword. He decapitated one and sliced the claws off the other before they even had a chance to register his presence. Unfortunately, within seconds more were pouring in from both ends of the passage and some started dropping from the ceiling. You see the nasty buggers release a reeking stench upon their death to let all the others know the hive is under attack but Martin had warned us about so we were ready for them. We laid into them, One-Eye’s sword easily cleaving limbs and torsos and my hammer crushing them into a gory mess. I wouldn’t have thought Ruggar’s heavy spear the best weapon for the job but he wielded it with such strength and precision it easily equaled the hammer and sword, More of the drones kept coming and we kept slashing stabbing and crushing our way through them. After a few minutes their numbers slowed then stopped. We were left covered in gore and panting for breath, well Ruggar and I were anyway Ol’ One-Eye barely seemed winded. But the important thing is we were left relatively unscathed other than a handful of shallow cuts and a nasty bruise in Ruggar’s thigh where he’d been slammed into a stalagmite. After a few minutes to catch our breath we set off in pursuit of the true prize, the arknis queen. With his years of experience to guide him Ol’ One-Eye was quickly able to lead us to her chamber. Let me tell you she was a hell of a sight for a young monster hunter on his first contract. The same basic shape as the drones but with an enlarged thorax and much, much bigger. Larger than a caravaner’s wagon and covered in heavy black chitin. Her head seemed to be nothing but a mass of eyes and a gaping maul filled with needle-like teeth. Ol’ One-Eye didn’t give us any time to think, the crazy bastard just dashed in circled to the side and started attacking her legs. Ruggar skirted the around the cavern trying to get behind the queen. I being young and dumb and drunk off our earlier victory charged straight in, warhammer held high and bellowing at the top of my lungs. Not surprisingly the monster turned to face me, what was surprising was how fucking fast she moved. A giant claw stuck out like lightning grabbing me around the middle. Fortunately, my shoddy jerkin held protecting me from the worst of the damage. Not so lucky were my old trousers. The split right down the middle exposing my furry ass to the cold damp air of the cave. The monster lifted me high above her head either intending to dash me to the ground or swallow me whole, I don’t know but either way I was beyond fucked.” The storyteller stopped to take another long drink and make sure every eye in the small tavern was on him. Satisfied he let out another long belch and began again. “So there I was barely sixteen years old held a dozen feet off the ground by the most terrifying creature I’d ever seen facing certain death with my naked cock flopping in front of me. I was scared shitless. No I mean I was literally scared shitless, my bowls unclenched and let loose a river of the most vile excrement ever produced by man or beast. The barely digested goat curry felt like the flames of hell pouring from my ass. My gods did it burn. And the ugly bitch must 'ave thought so too. As the stream of molten shit splashed down her head and covered her eyes she bellowed an ear-piercing shriek and dropped me. She went into a blind rage running about and slashing her claws wildly trying to clear the hellfire infused shit from her eyes. Her thrashing became increasingly frantic until she crashed into one of the giant stalactites. Dazed and blinded she stumbled and fell impaling herself on a stalagmite. She twitched a few times then lay still covered in shit and quite dead. And that, me boys, is how I literally shat a monster to death and earned m’self the name Olli Doom Shitter."