“It’s like this,” Jimmy said. “You wear the gauntlets of orge power, or the belt of giant strength — never both, you hear? You grab a crate, and you toss it up in the air so it falls through the hole. That’s your job, okay?”
Lex looked at him. “Seriously?” He looked down the hole in the center of Coyn, a hundred feet out to the other side — he could see nothing but stars at the bottom. It made him a bit queasy to look.
“Yep, John’ll grab it on the other side, and toss it over to the portal to wherever the food is goin’ today.” Jimmy pulled on the ogre gauntlets. “Let me show you.”
He grabbed one of the huge crates, and lifted it over his head. He grunted a bit, and tossed the crate about six feet in the air and over the whole, and it whooshed on down. “Look,” Jimmy grunted. “It’s already slowing down.”
Lex looked, “Sure, so that’s the gravity line?”
“Yep. You ever fall you’ll bounce up and down around that thing for about an hour before you stop. And run into the lunch you lost about seventy times in the process. That’s assuming the other guy doesn’t think you’re freight, and you’re in the middle of Minos surrounded by hungry dwarfs and dark elfs.”
“So don’t do that,” Lex said, seriously. “Why not wear both the gauntlets and belt?”
“Well, last recruit did that,” Jimmy said. “Tossed it so hard that when it landed on Baobab, the darn crate bounced open, and the contents flew all over the place, and into their precious water. Only, see, it wasn’t food, it was — shall we say, fertilizer for their giant tree. Remember how it tasted funny a few weeks ago?”
Lex nodded, and blanched.
“Yeah, Jimmy said. “Purified water, sure, but still tasted like shit.”
Note: We’re still looking for a Few Good Adventurers.