Alternative Reality Vol 1

by A Uscila

  Some questions are better left unanswered.

  Soon enough, the counting was done, the purse hidden away and with a wide-grin – Wail reached the end of the corridor and stepped into a dark hall of chiseled rock and crude columns. Only to be met by a shower of gravel and dust, the gust strong enough to force a step back, while Vivian covered behind his billowing robes.

  “Shit, they already began fighting the two-headed goblin ogre!” – Slicknick exclaimed, as he rushed to the magician’s side with his ever-present gang a step away.

  “Well that’s a mouthful” – Wail commented, as he wiped away dust from his robes, the fleeting smile once again replaced by a frown – and the universe was set right, once again.

  “What are you standing there for in a daze, you idiot? Run, before that fucker decides to attack us next!” – Willow, pleasant as always, dashed by and back the way Wail just came from, a passing finger pointing towards the specified monster that was busy swinging about a more than unpleasant looking mace. Rock and dust lifted to the air with each rumbling crash. Wail frowned even more. That thing definitely didn’t look like something he’d want to fight. His Soulfiend clearly thought otherwise, as it floated about in a furious circle, as if unable to decide if it should attack or defend its’ conjurer.

  A sharp clang echoed from nearby, as a short, metal-tipped projectile glanced off of the rock wall near his head – the sudden disturbance enough to force Wail to almost instinctively cover, while the Soulfiend quickly flew off towards the supposed source of the shot, a billowing flame seen dancing near it, upon a furtive glance. Followed by a barely audible cackle that pretty much told everything Wail needed to know about the situation, thus he carefully retreated back into the corridor, making sure that a rocky wall separated him and the doomed attacker from each other.

  “I think we should bail and come back with a plan when things aren’t as chaotic. That thing is quite a headache to fight and we don’t really have someone capable of taking a pummeling from it” – Slicknick, assuming the role of a tactical adviser all of a sudden, explained, his head occasionally peeking around the corner and into the hall.

  “Boss! What’s the plan? I don’t think I can take more than two hits from that thing” – Before the warlock could even consider using Bob as the monsters punching bag, a means to prove the smartass goblin wrong, the metal-sheathed underling decided to show up, taking up position near the two – the black color of his plates now diluted by dust.

  Somewhat agitated, Wail turned to look around as if to reassess the situation – clearly time-buying methods, since the action was prompted by his tendency to do the opposite of what everyone told him to. And good thing he did, since his eyes manages to latch-onto the disappearing form of minion number one – the reanimated fellow already way ahead in a shambling retreat. Apparently, the sight of it was exactly what the doctor prescribed, as the gears inside Wail’s head slowly clicked into place and a decision was quickly made.

  “Yeah, whatever. Let’s get out of here” – A reluctant agreement. Hell, the warlock could have sworn that he heard a surprised gasp from that sword-wielding tin-can. Yet he had no choice in the matter – after all, if minion number one managed to survive until now, then that shambling corpse was definitely doing something right. Who was he to doubt that fact?

  Thus, the three turned tail and ran without a shred of shame – Vivian having the joy of being carried about by the warlock, the occasional bouts of giggling echoing about. Judging by the deepening frown, its’ variations a true spectrum for body-language experts to analyze for ages to come, the warlock was already considering dropping off the annoying parcel after a few more such bouts. Luckily for her – a life-saving distraction presented itself in the shape of a flaming demon, as Sorro reached the fleeing group with obvious ease.

  “Well? Had your fill of fun already? You better not have led that lumbering ogre to us!” – Wail snappily inquired and was met with nothing but a cackling laughter, which continued as Sorro simply hastened its’ dash and quickly passed the group – the laughter no doubt a forewarning of what’s to come.

  “That didn’t sound good.” – Slicknick states matter-of-factly.

  “No. It did not.” – Wail added in a daze, eyes locked on the ever-retreating back of the demon – “Bob.” – He finally said after a moment of silent contemplation.

  “What?” – An inquiry echoed from nearby, as the clamor increased in volume somewhat, till the underling was running adjacent to the warlock.

  “Hold this” – Without even looking at Bob, Wail held out the giggling bundle, the tone in his request brooking no argument and luckily for the plated underling – none was given, as the bundle ended up smoothly exchanged.

  With that over and done, while Slicknick observed in interest and Bob no doubt, looked bewildered under that bucket helmet, Wail simply increased his pace and dashed away in pursuit of Sorro without much or any explanation – as if that was the most natural thing to do in these circumstance. A few more moments and an echoing roar away, neither one of the remaining few could find much arguments with the warlock’s actions. Especially when they didn’t have much time for searching – their running speed increasing quite a bit, as they too decided to avoid finding out what was coming from behind. Too bad for Bob and his metal bulk, the last place in this race was assured. Vivian didn’t help much either.

  “Sorry buddy!” – At least the pale goblin had the decency to apologize, as he hurried off in a sprint, all of his underlings following in close pursuit. Leaving poor Bob and the burdensome parcel to their fates.

  Soon enough, the goblin pack gained after Wail and finally, Sorro – who apparently wasn’t in as much of a hurry, as it first seemed. Not much talking went about, as the group continued down the barely lit corridor till booming echoes and faint fractions of words reached their ears – the sounds becoming louder and louder as time went by, flashes of light now seen further away. Not a good sign and certainly not the best circumstance – since no matter if it was back or forward, trouble awaited with open arms. No sight of minion number one scurrying back being the only reason the group continued on, shakily holding onto the hopes of safe escape.

  That deduction was soon in need of a desperate reevaluation when the group reached the source of all that commotion, with Willow at the very thick of it – her lithe figure leaning hard against a stone wall, inches away from a sharp turn as the corridor branched off. Various physical and magical projectiles would barrage the corner and the wall opposite of her position, whenever she leaned around and let loose one or more arrows at whoever awaited there - pieces of stone in various shapes and conditions flying about all around her after she hid.

  Nothing out of the ordinary and certainly not the reason why Wail ended up standing in place, completely stunned into a daze. Oh no, for his eyes were locked not onto Willow, but a certain entity right beyond the branch in the corridor, circling pointlessly in one spot, the flashing lights from all the explosions revealing patches of pale, singed skin.

  “Fuck” – That’s right. It was minion number one and all that idle circling around could only mean one thing. Well, two if you count in faulty coding. But most likely – it was simply the fact, that the reanimated corpse could not find a way of escape, no way out of this gruesome pickle, even with the help of those frightening survival instincts.

  “What took you so god damn long?! Stop standing around like a simpleton and help me out before they overrun us!” – Outraged, Willow shouted at the newly arrived, supposedly to be heard over all the racket, but there was little doubt that she would be yelling even without it.

  “Fuck yeah, this is what I’m here for!” – At least Sorro seemed quite happy with the situation, as he dashed past the corner and over to the other side – fistfuls of fire thrown about in passing, while receiving quite a bit of damage right back, shards of ice melting and finally evaporating over wounded skin, while feathery ends from accurately shot projectiles smoldered
and burned to ash.

  Wail didn’t dilly-dally for long either, as he quickly approached and peaked around the corner, intent on inspecting who was it that they managed to piss off. A big list, that one.

  “Well? Who the fuck are they?” – He asked loudly, all the while observing the carnage beyond – a few groups of people advancing in slow, organized bundles – hidden away behind both physical and magical shields. Some pieces of gear lying about here and there, a probably sign of how successfully Willow was holding out. Alone.

  “How am I supposed to know!? Could be anyone you recently pissed off! What did you think would happen? They’d send you a formal request for an apology and that’d be it? We’ve been killing and robbing in this dungeon for days now, for fuck’s sake!” – Willow explained very helpfully, the only thing missing was a little name calling and a slightly higher tone, just to reach that sweet screeching pitch.

  “Well, why didn’t you just ask them what they want?” – Slicknick inquired helpfully, clearly intent on managing the conversation towards a more meaningful discussion.

  “Ask them? Are you daft?! Why don’t you ask them, huh!?” – Too bad Willow wasn’t really playing along.

  And just like that, Slicknick shuffled around the bickering couple and waited till a brief pause took place between all that fighting.

  “So what do you want!?” – And with an uncharacteristically loud voice, inquired.

  A pause.

  “How about the lot of you hanging off the walls of the nearest town with spears up your asses!?” – A gruff voice shouted back, followed by a collective laugh at the snide remark.

  “Well that was uncalled for…” – Slicknick mumbled.

  “Hey, what’s on the other side of that corridor?” – Wail asked in a whisper, after completely forgetting about personal space and approaching Willow a little too much, all the while pointing a pale, bony finger towards the path beyond the branching-off.

  “How about we resolve this peacefully?!” – Apparently, the goblin wasn’t giving up on matters yet, as he tried again.

  “How should I fucking know, am I a cartographer or something?!” – Willow whispered back angrily, tactfully waiting till Slicknick was done with his bit.

  “You burned my god damn fort to the ground for absolutely no fucking reason, destroying the livelihood of a respectable businessman such as myself, robbed and murdered people down in the dungeon I looked after for days on end and now you want to resolve it all peacefully?!” – The same gruff voice roared in reply, quite timely as well, since the echoes of it were loud enough to drown out the silent curse that slipped out of Wail at Willows attitude. – “How about this. You can fucking tie yourselves up, prepare a spear each and wait till we get you. How about that for peaceful resolution?!” – Another burst of laughter, followed by satisfied cheers accompanying the speech, making it clear enough that Slicknick’s tactics weren’t getting them anywhere.

  “Isn’t that the dwarf that guided us around the fort before?” – Bob’s ever ominous voice came from behind, the sudden emergence almost enough of a startle for everyone to make them fall over and right into the hands of the waiting enemy. A barely controlled snort coming from Vivian, who was now perched atop Bob’s shoulders.

  Intrigued, Wail couldn’t help but peak around the corner for closer inspection – and lo and behold, there indeed was a familiar stout-looking shorty with a magnificent beard and a self-important bearing. That explains quite a bit.

  It was then that it suddenly hit him and Wail turned to face Bob in an overdone flourish – quite in time as well, since a moment longer and the couple of arrows that broke against the nearby wall, would have instead found themselves in the warlock’s skull.

  “Wait, how the fuck did you get here so fast?!” – Absolutely flabbergasted, Wail inquired frantically.

  “I just ran.” – Only to be countered by an almost unsettlingly calm and laconic reply.

  “Wait...does that mean…” – the realization came a little too late to the warlock, a mere fraction of a second before a rumble, followed by an echoing roar reached their position – “Fuck, run!”

  And with that, the warlock shifted into a sprint, his intended destination being where minion number one stood just moments ago – no sign of the animated corpse in sight, now. Sorro, who was already safely on the other side, was conveniently taking a break from the frantic exchange of magic between himself and the group led by Bossdwarf – circumstance that assured a safe start, at the very least. After all – Wail wasn’t running into a crossfire already in progress, which was probably why Slicknick, being quick on the uptake as always, smoothly joined the dash – those kin of his right there with him.

  “There he is! Get him!” – Bossdwarf shouted in a gruff voice – his command followed by a barrage of fire, stone, ice and all sorts of physical objects – most of them shot a moment too late and barely scratching the first group that passed, a pause coming into play as they were forced to hide behind whatever protection was close, since both Sorro and Willow delivered their own counter-volley. Bob took this as a perfect opportunity to run by, only after making sure Vivian was neatly held and hidden away on his safe side – while Willow took the opportunity to dash and hide behind his formidable bulk as a means of safe-passage.

  A few stray shards and bolts of ice and fire shattered and exploded against his dark plates, doing little more than endangering Bob’s balance, which allowed the last few to pass through the death-zone without much problem.

  “What’s behind us?”- Willow seethed through clenched teeth, the question spoken as soon as she was running adjacent to the frantically retreating warlock.

  “Didn’t you say it yourself? It’s those losers we’ve been fucking over for a while now” – Wail shot back without even sparing her a glance.

  Apparently, the answer didn’t satisfy the fury, as she grabbed the douchebag mage by his collar and shook him once, a glare directed right into his widened pupils.

  “Don’t fucking dodge the question. Who were you running from?! Who did you piss off this time?!” – She demanded.

  “It’s the two-headed goblin ogre! And I wouldn’t stand around here like that, unless you want to be smashed into a pulp!” – Slicknick helpfully explained, as he and his ilk quickly sprinted past and deeper down the dark corridor.

  “The two-headed wha…?” – Bewildered by the name, Willow could only gape at the running goblin, her grip on the warlock lightening due to the distraction.

  “You heard the man” – Wail added in a snarky manner, only to forcefully rip away his robes from Willow’s clutches – the magician shifting into a sprint after the albino goblin moments later.

  Luckily for him, Willow was too stunned and eventually persuaded by the frantic actions of everyone involved – enough to not beat the living hell out of Wail. Though judging by her dark expression, the matter was simply postponed for a later date, as she too turned to run away, just as Bob with Vivian under-arm reached her position.

  “Where’s that lunatic demon?” – She inquired the hulking pile of scrap.

  A bright explosion shook the corridor not too far back – close enough to hear the echoes of the demon’s screeching laughter. Seems like not much needed to be said, thus Bob simply pointed a thumb towards the direction of the noise without a word – the two continuing their journey in silence after that quaint exchange.

  Finally, their flight seemed to be coming to an end – an open gateway of reinforced wood coming into view, its’ gaping maw, shrouded in darkness. Both of the feeling entered without much delay and came into a relatively spacious room - the ceiling supported by two identical stone columns, constructed adjacent to each other, the distance between the two similar to that of the walls on the side of both. Sadly, though, there didn’t appear to be another exit out of the room, upon first impression – which was probably why the remainder of their ragtag gang of miscreants were busy checking each nook and cranny for one, with min
ion number one being the only exception - the reanimated corpse busy shuffling around aimlessly in a circle, once again. While the warlock was standing around not too far, a hand resting upon his chin in supposed contemplation.

  “Well now you’ve done it. Got us in quite the pickle here, jackass. I hope you’re happy” – Willow complained, seeing no quicker way to relieve her anxiety over the situation.

  “Quiet woman. I’m thinking” – And unexpectedly, quite the bold reply shot back – enough to push the ever-angry vixen slightly off-balance. Quickly gathering herself up, she shifted to glower over the warlock in seething fury, no doubt moment’s away from exploding – yet there must have been something in Wail’s expression. Something that seemed to stop that from happening, since the ranger, after a few more moments of boiling anger, turned-away with a humph, the displayed fury now reduced to a displeased frown.

  During that brief exchange, with a swirl of billowing flames and a cackle, the last member of their dysfunctional family finally arrived – the arrival met with Wail’s sudden jump to action, as he turned towards the entryway.

  “Close and barricade the gates!” – A command released in a uncharacteristic bellow, compelling enough to create a reaction, as both Sorro and Bob jumped to action – soon reinforced by Slicknick and his kin, the gates quickly closed in a creak, buckling under the united effort of the group.

  “And what was the point of that, hm? Planning on making this our tomb?” – The vixen inquired, her tone thick with mockery.

  “Find a safe place to shoot from and you’ll see.” – But the warlock did not seem keen on falling for the bait. Surprisingly, a snappy reply and a prelude to a winded argument was not forthcoming. Peculiar indeed.