Heroes of Last Resort (The Other Guys Book 1)

by JK Galioto

  Gently unsheathing his weapons, he crept closer. Upon further inspection, the entrance was much larger than he originally thought; maybe fifteen feet tall and ten feet wide. He waited next to the entrance for a few more minutes, listening for any signs of activity, but heard nothing. Hmm, maybe Improved Hearing would have been helpful in this situation? With a shake of his head, he walked quietly through the cave’s threshold, making himself as small as possible against the sunlit sky behind him. He knew he’d be easily visible to anyone inside the cave but didn’t have the patience to wait until it was dark.

  Jack needed to move about ten feet inside to successfully activate Darkvision. What he saw when he did horrified him. Farther into the cave, the floors, walls, and ceilings were coated with what he assumed was blood, which looked like liquid mercury in his Darkvision. Child-sized body parts were strewn about. A child—no, what appeared to be a halfling, or some form of hobbit—lay on the rocky ground, beaten and bloody in the middle of the room. He was hog-tied, with eyes that frantically darted around the room until they locked onto Jack. He seemed to be trying to scream something at him, although only a tired whimper escaped his lips.

  Quest Offered: “Halfling Rescue.” Rescue the halfling from his goblin captors before it is too late. Reward: 100 experience. Accept? Yes or No.

  Immediately accepting the quest, Jack darted in to cut the rope and free him. That’s when he felt a sudden, burning pain run up his side as a creature he hadn’t seen—Did I just roll a one for perception? —materialized out of a nook. Its shortsword dripped with Jack’s blood. The creature stood less than four feet tall and featured grey-greenish skin, short-cropped brown hair, a flat nose, pointed ears, and wickedly sharp jagged teeth. It looked like every picture he had ever seen of a goblin. It stood before him, licking Jack’s blood off its shortsword with a malevolent smirk.

  Jack brought his sword and dagger up and engaged the sadistic creature. He wasn’t sure about his injury, but couldn’t spare time for that now. He thrust his bronze shortsword toward the demented grin on its ugly, bloodstained maw while his dagger went low, toward the creature’s groin. The creature pulled its head back slightly and used its own shortsword to push Jack’s attack out wide, his sword tip just grazing its asymmetrical nose. However, that allowed his dagger to sink deep into the goblin’s nether region. The creature’s mirth faded quickly, and it began to howl in pain before falling with Jack’s dagger still lodged in the vicinity of its goblinoid manhood.

  “I think I got your twig and berries,” Jack growled, taking a step forward to finish off the monstrous creature. That’s when he felt another surprise, this time from behind. Something crashed into his head, dropping him to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

  Jack woke up hours later, head throbbing, to someone gently shaking him awake. “Not now, Grandpa, just let me sleep for a few more minutes. Chores can wait,” he mumbled groggily, trying to turn away from his grandpa and on to his side. That’s when he realized his hands and feet were bound, making any movement painful. He wondered briefly why he was still alive, but not looking a gift horse in the mouth, didn’t dwell on it too long. He wasn’t sure how Earth would fare if their one and only “savior” died, but he assumed it would be game over, or at least no Bueno. Forcing his eyes open, he realized he was still in the cave, lying on the cold, unforgiving ground. Next to him stood a person no more than three feet in height. His light sandy hair was stained dark with dirt and ash, he had a painful-looking collection of bruises covering much of his exposed skin, a number of small cuts, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. Jack spat out a few arcane syllables and cast Analyze on the small being.

  Name: Liam. Race: Halfling. Level: 2. Class: Scholar. Hit Points: 3/15. Spell Points: 0/0.

  It was odd that Jack could only focus on the fact that this halfling had obtained the Scholar class and not one of the base classes that he himself was limited to. Not the time to be petty, Jack! He also noticed the small man’s current health and reviewed his own. His health regeneration had been busy while he was knocked out; he had twelve of his fifteen remaining. He also had a number of notifications waiting for him, but decided to save them for later. Staring into space with a glazed-over expression for the next hour while he read through them wouldn’t endear himself with the halfling. He scanned the rest of the cave and noticed a large goblin sitting some twenty feet away by the fire eating something. Large was a relative term; he still looked to have the height of a ten-year-old boy, except baby fat was replaced with wiry muscle and stink. Well, boys that age tended to stink too, but this was . . . something worse. Day-old rotting meat left out in the sun worse. He turned his attention back to the halfling.

  “Hello,” he started in a quiet, calm voice, carefully gauging the reaction of the jittery halfling. “My name is Jack. What is your name?” he asked, already knowing the answer but trying to get conversation rolling.

  The halfling stared at him with his one good eye before answering in a foreign tongue that Jack had never heard before. Great, we don’t speak the same language, just like Lily kept telling me before she broke up with me.

  Jack tried again. “Me, Jack,” he said, pointing at his chest. “You? Come on man, give me something to work with.”

  Jack was surprised when the halfling replied in English. “My name is Liam,” he whispered softly, eyes darting to the form of the large goblin.

  “You know English?” Jack guffawed.

  “My level two Scholar perk allows me to learn languages after hearing a few words. If you talk slowly, I can understand.” Amazingly, his English was perfect. It felt so good to have someone else to talk to.

  “How did you get caught? And why are we still alive?” Jack questioned his new companion.

  “Well,” Liam started, “it’s a bit of a long story, but these foul creatures managed to jump me and my family in the middle of the night. My kids were too young to be used as labor for the mines, so they were killed outright.” He said this with a mix of profound sadness and righteous fury. “They brought my wife and me to the ore mines deep below this mountain and forced us to mine for them. Working us to death, they were! I had given up hope, but one morning my shackles worked their way loose while I was swinging the pickaxe. Goblins aren’t known for maintaining gear properly, you see,” he stated in a nasally voice, absently working at his bonds, even though they were expertly tied. Realizing, clearly not for the first time, that he wasn’t going anywhere, he continued, “I worked them loose over the next couple of days, hatching a plan where I escaped and came back for my wife and the other halflings with a halfling army at my back. I waited for the moment when the probability of my escape was at its highest. I didn’t have to wait long.

  “The day after I worked the shackles loose, the overseer and his guard detail decided to take an extended lunch break, taking their turns on one of the female captives. As disgusting as that was, I used the distraction to fully remove the shackles and make my way from the camp. I was probably a good four hours away when that nasty one over there finally tracked me down. He . . . was not kind,” Liam finished solemnly, rubbing his backside gently.

  Throwing up just a little in his mouth, Jack took a moment to consider the halfling’s words. Apparently, this cave was the entrance to a larger underground system, including a mine of some sort. Jack wasn’t sure how that could be; it looked like the cave ended about thirty feet away. Turning back to Liam he asked, “You seem like the intelligent type. Got another plan to escape from our odiferous overlord? My hands and feet are tied, but if you could free me, I think I could take him one-on-one if I could get my weapons back.” He still had his armor on, but the goblin had taken his blades and was now using one to clean the grime from under his fingernails. Sure, that will make up for the almost-visible stink lines, buddy!

  “I haven’t had any luck with the knots on my rope, but maybe I can untie yours if you can roll on your side,” Liam said softly, still looking at the goblin.

  With a tr
emendous amount of effort that left sweat and more than a few tears rolling down his face, Jack managed to flip onto his side. It was times like these he was happy his friends weren’t here to see him. Liam scooted closer and slowly got to work.

  “The goblin must have a skill in rope-tying or is really into BDSM, because these knots are tricky. But don’t worry, they will give up their secrets to me!” Liam cried hoarsely, forgetting himself momentarily. The goblin guard turned toward them at the sound, but only saw two prisoners huddled together for warmth in the classic spoon position.

  Jack really hadn’t needed to know that BDSM was a thing in Rigara, but the mental image of the halfling bound and gagged wasn’t as easily put out of his mind as one would think given the severity of their situation. After a bit, the halfling’s tiny hands started to make tangible progress. Just a little more, snuggle buddy! Then, suddenly, his hands were free of their bonds. Payback time!

  Chapter 9

  As he untied the bonds around his ankles, fear and anxiety were soon replaced with an indignant rage. Jensens don’t go out this way! He slowly and quietly got himself into a crouching position while his green-skinned foe had his back turned, once again paying attention to his clawlike fingernails. It took but a moment to find his shortsword resting in a pile of detritus a few feet behind the cruel beast.

  Moving with purpose, he began sneaking toward the instrument of his salvation. As he did, he cast Analyze under his breath to see what he was up against.

  Name: Dingesklys. Race: Goblin. Level: 4. Class: Scout. Hit Points: 21/24. Spell Points: 0/0.

  Egad! Another non-base class! What gives, Alexa?! He continued creeping closer. Twenty feet. Fifteen feet. Ten Feet. Five. Almost there. Stay focused! Jack froze as the goblin suddenly inhaled sharply, looking as if to yell an alarm. No! No! No! No! No!

  “ASchnewaquuuassstchhhh!!!!” The goblin let out a thunderous sneeze and expelled an impressive amount of mucous onto the hand he had spent so much time cleaning, and then began licking it off, his long lizard-like tongue making short work of the snot.

  Only sparing a moment to be revolted, then relieved, Jack knew this may be his last, best chance. Hoping this was the distraction he needed and praying it wasn’t the distraction he deserved, he picked up his pace, planning on accelerating toward the unattended weapon, picking it up in one fluid motion, and then using his forward momentum to finish the scout off with an epic backstab. Jason Bourne, meet Jack Jensen! He thought he could hear his fifth grade basketball coach Mr. Nordell yelling at him as he tried for the sixth time to make a free throw. Actualize it, then realize it!

  Stepping forward to execute his plan, he overlooked one crucial item. He was not, in fact, Jason Bourne. He also wasn’t Jason Momoa. He wasn’t even Jason Bateman. As he moved toward his shortsword, his right foot slipped on something squishy and he lost his balance, sending him wheeling into the goblin scout. He landed squarely on top of the creature’s surprised face. Trying to salvage the situation, he leaned his head back and then rammed it forward, intent on shattering the long, broad nose of the ugly goblin. However, whether due to skill or luck, the goblin’s head slumped forward so that Jack connected with the crown of the goblin’s skull instead, shattering Jack’s nose.

  Tears sprang up in Jack’s eyes as he continued to fight on. His brother and the entire world were counting on him. Through water-filled, stinging vision, he reached out with his hands until he found the goblin’s skinny throat and squeezed for all he was worth. Unfortunately, while his strength back on Earth was good enough to squeeze the Cheese Whiz onto his crackers, it was not enough to squeeze the life out of the muscled goblin. His worth, as it turned out, was about tree-fiddy. The goblin, realizing this, began a slow, wheezy laugh as he brought his own hands up and contemptuously knocked Jack’s hands away from his throat while simultaneously bringing his feet to Jack’s chest and kicking him hard at center mass.

  Jack flew away from the goblin, slamming hard onto the cavernous floor and sliding a few feet on what Jack had to assume was blood. But Jack wasn’t out of the fight. Now don’t you go puttin’ a fork in me, ’cause I ain’t done yet!

  As he finished this thought, Dingesklys threw Jack’s own dagger toward him in a practiced, overhand motion. More luck than skill, Jack flailed a bit, and the dagger just barely grazed his rotund stomach. Hah, that didn’t even hurt! He slowly got to his feet as the goblin, now with his own dagger in hand, began moving toward him, a malicious grin on his face. Check that, there’s the pain!

  He spat a few words in what Jack assumed was goblin, clearly an insult of some kind, and then seeing that Jack did not comprehend, made a motion with his hands that made it clear to Jack what the goblin was going to do to him after they finished the fight. Deciding he would rather go out fighting, Jack closed the last few feet between them and lunged at the creature, grabbing him around the torso and slamming him to the ground.

  “Gotcha!” Jack shouted in elation as he began to rain blows down on the goblins unprotected face. Noticing the goblin’s wicked smile, he looked down to see the creature’s dagger sticking out of his stomach. Jack’s blows weakened as the blood began to flow out of his wound.

  “I may be fat, but I’m not a lady and I’m definitely not singing!” Jack whispered defiantly, still attempting to finish off the malevolent goblin, but his blows were noticeably slowing down. The goblin, clearly done with the games, pulled his dagger out of Jack’s body before plunging it in over and over until Jack, the Champion of Earth, was dead.

  Chapter 10

  Jack woke up with a monster of a headache that made him wonder how much he’d had to drink the night before. He couldn’t wait to tell the boys at the shop about his crazy dream-turned-nightmare. He reached for his water and aspirin, his usual morning-after ritual. Instead of finding the nightstand next to his bed, his hand touched soft grass.

  “What the . . .” he croaked, cracking an eyelid open to bright sunlight. Sitting up, he looked around a grassy meadow, and a fallen tree came into focus. That must have been a heck of a party! Not remembering much about the night before, he closed his eyes, partially to pull himself together, partially to appease the god of mining, who was taking a mattock to his head.

  Just sitting there enjoying the refreshing breeze, he tried in vain for a while to remember the night before with no more success than his first attempt. The breeze picked up a bit while he contemplated, and with a horrid sense of dread, he realized he felt the air much too uniformly across his entire body. He cracked his eyes open and braved a look down. If Mr. Peanut was any indication, it was cold out here. How much exactly did I drink last night? I have no memory of going streaking! Yes indeed, Jack was wearing nothing but his slightly oversized birthday suit.

  With sudden realization, he jumped to his feet, spun around, and was met with the sight of a portal—the portal. Nope, not a dream. His horrific death came back to him suddenly, and he ran his hand over where the goblin had plunged his dagger into his stomach over and over again. All he felt was smooth skin, free of any cuts or gashes. Oh, and yep, I really am naked. I should’ve taken the blue pill.

  Now fully alert, he achieved full confirmation of his situation when he recognized the telltale sign of notifications in the corner of his vision. Sighing loudly, then cringing, he knew he would have to view them to fill in the gaps in his memory from the night before.

  The first set was from his initial battle with the goblins; he read through those quickly, enough to know that he had killed the first goblin with a bleed effect before being knocked out by the second goblin. The other combat notifications were from his last battle with Dingesklys, where he was brutally stabbed to death. His horrific death came back to him suddenly, and he ran his hand over where the goblin had plunged his dagger into his stomach over and over again. All he felt was smooth skin, free of any cuts or gashes. Eerie. He brought up the next set of notifications.

  You have died. Your survival token has been exchanged for a respawn. You w
ill be revived at your last bind point. Since you did not set a bind point, you will be returned to the portal where you entered Rigara. The basic survival token allows only the person to be brought back and revived; all equipment is left behind. You have lost all experience gained past level 2.

  So that’s what the survival token does. This was starting to feel like a bad version of the ever-classic PC game Wizardry. Wait? Did the notification say he was level two? He continued reading through the notifications.

  You have Revival Sickness. Effect: -5 to all attributes, -5 to all skills. Your max health is reduced to half. Duration: 4 hours. Obtaining better-quality survival tokens can reduce these penalties in the future.

  “Thanks a lot for the helpful safety tip, Alexa!” Jack exclaimed tiredly, not having the energy to be angry with Alexa, who was only doing her job. “Information like that could have been brought to my attention yesterday.” Apparently, Alexa followed a strictly “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy.

  Well, that explained his general feeling of crappitude. This world could be so cryptic at times; he hadn’t even realized what the survival token was, let alone that there were different versions. Live and learn. The important takeaway here was that he’d used up his extra life; his next death would be his last. He wondered if the same could be said about Liam. He needed to finish reviewing his notifications so he could help his new friend. He moved on to his final set, only partially successful at not dwelling on his own mortality.