The chieftain only kept Cassie’s attention for a moment. She could deal with one giant bastard, but what she couldn’t deal with were the hundreds of lizard-men gathered in the clearing.
Was this some kind of celebration? If it was a celebration of some sort, the question quickly became, were they the guests of honor or dinner?
The cage was lowered to the ground, and the door opened by one of the lizard soldiers. He pointed toward the throne. When the two of them didn’t start walking, he nudged them forward with the tip of his spear.
“We get it already.” Cassie slammed her open palm down on his spear. “If you touch me with that thing, I’m going to kick your fucking ass.”
The lizard-man’s tongue flicked out around his teeth, and there was a sound coming from his throat that might have been laughter. He pointed over their heads again and lifted his shield to give them another push in the right direction.
Cassie glared at their captor. “Try it.”
ShadowLily put a calming hand on Cassie’s shoulder. “We’ve got bigger things to be concerned about.”
“But kicking his ass would make me feel so much better.” Cassie turned to see what could possibly be worse than being surrounded by hungry-looking lizard-men.
It didn’t take her long to see what ShadowLily was worried about. Standing at the base of the throne were Gaston and JaKobi. Both men had their hands tied in front of them. It didn’t escape her attention that each of them had been assigned their own guard, while the sexist lizards only assigned a single escort for the two of them.
“Chauvinist fucks,” Cassie grumbled. “Just let me go mano a mano with one of these green bastards, and they’ll learn not to underestimate a woman.”
“Maybe we can worry about satisfying your ego after we’re safe.” She kept her eyes locked on the throne. “Tim’s not here. Where in the hell is he?”
“Working on a secret plan?” Cassie sure hoped that was what Tim was doing. Right about now, they could use one of his great ideas to get the hell out of here.
They stopped at the base of the throne as the chieftain watched them. “Coming into the hidden forest is a death sentence. The four of you will be sacrificed to appease Havithor, the Great Worm. With your lives comes peace and prosperity for our people.”
Cassie spat on the ground. “I desire a trial by combat.” It was worth a try. That shit always worked in the movies.
The weird laughter chittered from all around them. The chieftain walked down the steps toward Cassie. Stopping in front of her, he smiled. “I will grant one of you the right to face our champion. Win, and all of you shall be spared. Lose, and all of you will become willing sacrifices to the Great Worm.”
Cassie stood as tall as she could. Her eyes shot daggers at the chieftain. There wasn’t an inch of back-down in her. “Bring it on, Puff. I need a new pair of boots."
The chieftain chuffed his laughter. “Wouldn’t you prefer one of your champions to take your place?” He pointed at the two men with their wrists bound in front of them.
Gaston nudged JaKobi’s shoulder. “He doesn’t know how bad he just fucked up.”
“Right. One time I asked Ernie for a small serving, and she thought I was making a joke about her. My arm hurt for a week. That lizard just implied a woman wouldn’t stand a chance against their champion. Cassie’s going to wipe the floor with him.”
The chieftain followed the two men’s conversation before turning his confused gaze on Cassie. “So it will be you who faces Drago?”
“Drago’s about to be my bitch!” Cassie scanned the crowd. “Which one of you is it?” she shouted in defiance.
The chieftain walked back up the steps to his throne. He lifted his arms and the drumming stopped. “The sacrifices have asked for the right to fight our champion, and I have granted them the opportunity.” He snickered before looking across the clearing. “I call on Drago the Destroyer to represent the clan.”
A cheer rose from the crowd and they scrambled to line the clearing, leaving one path to a hut set at the far edge. The drums started to play again, but this time their rhythm was different. This time the drums summoned their champion to war.
Cassie heard them shouting the name “Drago” over and over. She wasn’t sure what all the hype was about. Looking around the crowd didn’t show her a lot of difference between one lizard-man and another. Unless Drago was some kind of freak, she’d be fine.
A large gray shape came out of the hut. At first, she thought it was a massive sculpture, something to show them just how badass their champion was, but then she realized it was him. The giant lizard-man had to walk out of the hut sideways. As he turned to face them, he rolled his massive shoulders.
Drago was easily twice as wide as the rest of the lizard-men, and Cassie wouldn’t have been surprised to find out he was at least nine feet tall. The massive beast shrieked into the sky, and the drums started to play faster. The lizard-men near the hut formed a circle.
The chieftain looked at Cassie with a smug smile etched on his features. “Our champion awaits.”
Cassie pulled her bō staff from her inventory and twirled it. She cast a withering look at the chieftain and did her best Samuel L. Jackson impression. “I’ve had it with these motherfucking lizards in this motherfucking game.”
With one last look at her friends, Cassie stalked forward to meet Drago in the circle of champions.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Thankfully, there were torches in the dungeon.
Tim forced a nervous smile on his face. Sometimes in life, it paid to be grateful for what you had and not be concerned with what you wanted. Being trapped down here without a single torch would have been infinitely more miserable than it was right now.
After what Davros said, Tim had been expecting to be ambushed by the other prisoners the very second he entered the dungeon, but he hadn’t seen one of them yet. He wasn’t sure exactly what he envisioned, but it had been more like the scene in The Chronicles of Riddick than the silent welcome he was receiving now.
He moved deeper into the dungeon without revealing anything new. The walls were made out of roughhewn stone blocks, and the stones didn’t always match. Either some of them had been replaced over the years, or they used stone from multiple quarries to make the dungeon. Despite the general smell of dampness, the stone walls and ceiling appeared to be dry.
A long, raspy moan echoed down the hall from somewhere in the darkness.
It was the kind of sound you’d hear in a ghost movie right before something came out of the walls and chased you down. Tim realized that there could be ghosts in the game. Almost every type of fantasy game had some version of the undead in it. Who else were the clerics going to smite with their holy light?
That being said, he generally wasn’t scared of dark and creepy places. He was more of a “have to see it to believe it” kind of guy. At least, that was what he liked to tell himself, but if you put him in a cemetery late at night, added a little fog to the ground, and something brushed against him, he’d run away faster than everyone else.
You gotta be realistic about these things.
Tim pulled his staff out of his inventory and readied his flameburst spell. If he rounded a corner and a bunch of people tried to rob him, there were going to be a few crispy motherfuckers down here.
Hell, yeah, he was ready to rumble, baby!
Instead of a corner at the end of the hall, there was a dark wooden door. Tim grabbed the thick iron ring and pulled the door open. Another moan filled the air. This time it sounded more like a man getting a limb cut off in a civil war movie than a ghost. He forgot all about being worried and rushed into the room to help in any way he could.
Four men were huddled around a bundle of straw on the floor. A fifth man was lying there, and that was who was making the god-awful sound. The other men seemed to be trying to hold him down as he writhed in pain. One of them had a rag and a bucket of water and was washing the sweat from the sick man’s forehead.
“What’s going on here?” Tim asked.
Two of the four men jumped away from the man on the floor, making the sign of the goddess over their chest. The other two looked at Tim with their jaws hanging open in shock. From the looks on all of their faces, they didn’t expect to get out of the room alive.
Now that he’d given all of them a heart attack, Tim tried to sound friendly as he spoke. He pointed at himself. “New arrival. Sorry if I startled you.”
“That bastard Hobbs is still bringing people down here? Jordan, I told you we needed to try to kill that fucker the last time he was down here.”
“Simmer down, Henry. That was five years ago. It’s not like killing Hobbs would do anything but make it harder on all of us. You know damn well they’d just find an even bigger asshole to takeover.”
Jordan turned to look at Tim. “If you haven’t heard yet, there’s something going on down here, and I’d say dollars to doughnuts the sheriff is behind it.”
Henry motioned for the other men to take his place by the man on the floor. “The sheriff has never been anything to us but uninterested. As long as we don’t kill each other, he’s never given a shit about us.”
Tim took a step forward. “Do you mind if I take a look at him? I’m a healer by trade. There might be something I can do.”
“I told you the goddess would provide,” Henry said, making Her sign over his chest before motioning Tim forward.
Leaning down, Tim started to examine the man’s arms and legs. “One of the guards mentioned some of the afflicted had marks on them. Have you seen anything like that?”
“There’s something on the back of his neck. We’ve never seen anything like it before,” Henry chimed in as he bent down to help roll the injured man over.
The moan that escaped from the man’s mouth broke Tim’s heart. He’d always been fine with being in pain himself, but he hated seeing others in pain. There was something about seeing someone hurt that made him want to help them. He probably should have tried to be a doctor back in the real world, but who had time for all the extra classes when there was beer to be drunk?
The marks on the back of the man’s neck weren’t like anything Tim had seen before either. All he could say for certain was that he was fairly sure they weren’t dealing with a vampire. There were three marks at the base of the man’s neck. He took the wet rag and wiped the crusted blood away, but still couldn’t make sense of them.
Tim looked at the men gathered around. “I’m not sure what happened to him, but I might be able to help.” He motioned for the men to step back and started casting cleanse.
On the fourth cast of the spell, a foul-smelling white pus leaked from the wound on his patient’s neck. The man on the ground let out a strangled cry, then his body went still. Tim watched him for a few moments, afraid that he might have killed him. He splashed a healing orb against him and hoped for the best.
The four men in the room were staring at him. One of them had a look on his face that said, “If he’s dead, so are you.” Doing his best to ignore them, Tim kept his eyes locked on the man he’d healed. His chest had started to move, but he wasn’t awake yet.
At least I didn’t kill him.
When his eyes fluttered open, the men in the room jumped back from the body like they’d seen a ghost. Or maybe they were worried about zombies. Oh, shit, did this game have zombies?
Tim held out his hand. “Water. I need water.”
Henry ran out of the room and came back a moment later with a skin that had the stopper removed. Tim took it from him and leaned over the man on the ground to help him drink. Maybe the goddess really did have a hand in all things. It was starting to feel like he’d been sent here to help these men. It wasn’t like the saints from the real world got there by tending to the affluent.
They were considered saints because they’d helped everyone.
Not that he thought of himself as a saint, or even saintly. It took a certain kind of selflessness to reach that level of divinity, something he didn’t have. Yes, he had a strong desire to help people, especially those less fortunate, but Tim also liked his things and his alone time.
That part of him he would have to give up to become saintly wasn’t something he was ready to part with just yet. Plus, his life was already pretty awesome. He was in a new reality with the woman he loved. Here he could heal people and lead a group. Back home, he would have been the lowest man on the financial totem pole in a giant corporation.
One of the forgotten.
Tim extended his hand to the man he’d healed and pulled him into a sitting position. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now that I’m awake.” He looked at the five men huddled around him. “Thanks for not leaving me to die.”
Jordan leaned down next to him. “None of us knew what to do, Tony.” He stopped talking and pointed at Tim. “Hobbs arrested this healer, and he saved you.”
“Fucking Hobbs,” Tony mumbled. “Hate having to be grateful to that bastard for anything.”
“Then don’t be.” Tim smiled at the man. “I hate that fucker too.”
“From the goddess’ lips to my ears,” Tony said with a smile. He looked around the room, and his smile quickly faded. “Do we have anything to eat?”
Henry slapped him on the back. “Of course, this crazy fucker wakes up, and the first thing he asks about is food.”
Jordan helped Tony to his feet. “I’m sure we can wrangle something up. If not, it’s almost chow time.” He pointed at Tim. “The new arrival means potatoes tonight.”
Tony shuddered. “I swear to the gods it’s a good thing we found another use for those potatoes, or I would have gone nuts by now. But the goddess has her ways.” He elbowed the man next to him. “Doesn’t she, boys?”
Tim laughed out loud at the men’s antics, wondering what exactly they did with their potatoes. He actually loved potatoes. There were so many ways you could make them: baked, twice baked, smashed, mashed, or fried. They always tasted awesome, and they were one of the cheapest fillers you could buy, although a steady diet of spuds did sound horrible. There had to be something he was missing.
Did Sheriff Hobbs think he was Penn?
That crazy comedian had eaten nothing but potatoes for three months. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do to lose weight, but restricting your diet like that would break Tim in a week, if he made it that long. He needed real food, even if it meant having to exercise.
Henry wrapped an arm around Tim’s shoulders. “Plus, we have to introduce fresh meat here to the rest of the boys.”
Looking at each of the men in turn, Tim felt like they might just be screwing with him. At least his first day in the dungeon wasn’t going to be filled with running away from hordes of hungry sex-starved men in fear. He might even be able to spend his time here doing something useful. “Is there anyone else who needs healing?”
Jordan smiled. “Oh, I’m sure some of the guys will take you up on that offer. We don’t usually get visits from the healers down here.” His gaze narrowed on Tim like a grandma spotting her favorite yarn on sale at the hobby store. “Maybe with you here, we can finally get to the bottom of what’s going on.”
“Any chance you’re up for helping us?” Jordan extended his hand toward Tim.
Quest Received: Something Wicked this Way Comes
There is something strange happening in the dungeon. The guards and the sheriff are calling it a mysterious illness, and yet there are rumors that the illness is caused by some kind of attack. Your job is to find out the truth and put an end to whatever is going on.
Accept Quest: Yes/No
Tim accepted the quest. If he was going to be trapped here for a few days, he might as well get some experience out of it. There was always a chance his friends would find a way to get him out of here earlier, so he could always abandon the quest chain or come back and do the quest later.
There was also a part of Tim that didn’t want to be too involved. He didn’t wa
nt anyone to die, but he certainly didn’t want to make life more comfortable for criminals. Although, with how he’d been spirited away, it was more than likely at least a few of these men were down here for doing the right thing.
Not all of them could be innocent, though, not with the prison right in the city. Somebody would have surely noticed the dungeon filling up without any criminals being tried. If working through the monarchy was anything like working through the government, maybe no one took the time to notice. The sheriff could have a nice profitable side business going right under the kingdom’s nose.
Innocent or not, something was attacking these men. Tim believed, at the very least, every prisoner needed to be safe from physical threats. Being eaten or fed on seemed to meet his threshold for demanding justice. No one was going to be eaten while he was here.
Criminals or not, he wouldn’t stand for a monster feeding on these men.
The five inmates led him down a long hallway. There were branches going in multiple directions, but they continued in a straight line. At the end of the hallway was another wooden door, although this one was open and you could hear boisterous shouting and singing coming from beyond.
Tim stepped into a large common room. With all of the raised mugs, he might as well have stepped back into the Blue Dagger. Sacks of potatoes lined one wall, and against another, there was some kind of contraption that must have been a still. They were making alcohol out of the potatoes.
No wonder these guys got fucking excited about potato night.
Given how the rest of the prisoners were acting, he would not have thought there was a sickness down here. Tim took a few steps into the room and craned his neck to see what everyone was looking at. On the floor in the center of the room was a black cloth with a man lying on it. He started listening to the songs being sung and realized this wasn’t a party, but a funeral.
“If you’d been arrested yesterday, Khris might still be with us,” Henry said as he handed Tim a drink. “As you can tell, everyone contributes their potato rations to the still. The fuckers upstairs think we love to eat the damn things, but we use them to make vodka.”
Rise of the Grandmaster Page 55
