Heroes of Last Resort (The Other Guys Book 1)

by JK Galioto

  “Shut the front door,” Jack said, patting his friend on the shoulder. “That will come in handy because, Brother, you will be taking a lot of damage. I mean, in this world, sticks and stones will break your bones, and words can somehow hurt you too!”

  Gooch soured a bit at that. “By the way, when you cut the Achilles tendon of that monster, did I hear you say, ‘Take that, you big-armed crustacean?’ What was that, Jacky? Bush league!”

  “Let’s see you do better! I’m sort of new at this monster-killing business, do enlighten me,” Jack retorted distractedly. “Also, for the record, we are not doing Jacky.”

  “Fine, Jacky,” Gooch said placatingly, chuckling to himself. “Besides an increase in hit points and stamina, I increased my parry, block, heavy armor, and large blades by two skill points as a result of the last few battles. I’m not ready to fight a dragon, but I think I can handle a pack of goblins.”

  “You can handle a pack of shut the heck up,” Jack muttered under his breath, not at all liking the new nickname for himself. The only person that called him Jacky was his grandpa.

  “What was that, Jacky?” Gooch responded.

  How the heck did he hear me? “Uh, nothing, Gooch, my man, was just telling you that I chose the bard at fifth level. Get ready to be wowed by my magic fingers!” he stated, giving Gooch a little jazz hand action. He hoped the new topic would make Gooch forget about calling him Jacky. The last thing he needed was another nickname from Gooch, who had given him plenty over the years. He should just follow his grandpa’s motto: you can call me anything you want, just don’t call me late for dinner. Or another classic: you can call me anything you want, just don’t call me collect. Jack realized he missed the old man more than ever.

  “Let me show you something I learned,” Jack announced, reaching out to the tall fighter. Gooch initially shied away, unsure what Jack was reaching for. However, once he realized Jack was not trying to touch him inappropriately, he allowed the contact. Jack noticed none of this, instead touching Gooch’s ribs, bruised and cracked from the battle, and willing healing magic to flow through him. Arcane syllables came unbidden to his lips, and three seconds later he felt magic leave his body and flow into Gooch, who breathed easier, the healing magic taking effect immediately.

  “Okay, no more using the nickname Jacky!” Gooch sighed happily, taking in a long, deep breath. He held up his shield arm, mangled from taking repeated hits from the large lobster.

  “I need to wait thirty seconds between castings,” Jack said. His own body was battered and bruised, and his shoulders ached horribly from where the monster had hit him. “But if we can rest for a couple of hours, I have something else that might do the trick.” After waiting thirty seconds and casting a Minor Heal on his dislocated shoulder, which popped the shoulder back into place, he pulled out his lute and played without thought, letting his fingers dance along the strings, while mentally focusing on using his new perk, Song of Respite. He could feel the music working to repair his body, enhancing his normal health regeneration. After putting away his lute, he was pleased to confirm that the Song of Respite was still in effect. After thirty seconds had passed, he cast another Minor Heal on Gooch, slowly restoring his health.

  Looking down at Wobby, he asked Gooch, “Do you like lobster? It’s harvesting time, baby!” They spent the next few hours breaking the creature’s hard shell open and putting the meat into the adventuring backpack. They also put the creature’s shell into the backpack, hoping they could use it to fashion a better suit of armor for Gooch. Gooch learned the gathering creatures skill and Jack gained another point in his. While they harvested, Jack took frequent healing breaks for both himself and Gooch, eventually topping them both off.

  They took a moment to look around the room, and Jack showed Gooch the statues of his friend Dobby and the mysterious Lady Latani. He went into his quest tab and shared his quests with Gooch, but was unable to share the secret quest he received when he gained Dobby as an ally. Now they both had the “Pearls for Portal,” “Save Earth,” “Vengeance for Liam,” and the “Stone Prisons” quests.

  Chapter 28

  They spent a few minutes looking for items the hooked monster may have squirrelled away but came up empty. Finally, they turned their attention to the large iron portcullis blocking the path to the next pearl. Moving next to it, Jack peered through the iron bars and saw a long tunnel, lit every so often with torches that led deeper underground. Unfortunately, he also saw a winch system inside a nook in the wall on the other side of the gate. With no obvious way to open it, he called Gooch over. Together, they both lifted the gate, with Gooch doing most of the work, veins popping out on his arms, neck, and forehead. They were able to raise it just enough for Jack to roll underneath and use the winch to allow Gooch to crawl under. After releasing the winch’s lever, the door slammed down to the ground with a soft crash, making them both wince at the noise.

  Jack left Gooch at the portcullis and scouted the tunnel. It continued for a few hundred feet, bending multiple times, all the while sloping deeper underground. There were torches every forty feet or so, emitting enough light that Jack did not need to shift into Darkvision mode. The tunnel opened up to a wide ledge that ended in an abrupt drop-off, with paths going down to the left and right. Inching up to the ledge, he looked down and let out a slight gasp at the sight before him. It was the giant underground mining operation that Liam had talked about, a scene straight out of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. A deep pit stretched out below him, larger than two football fields, with multiple tunnels running deeper into the earth and torches scattered throughout. Huge piles of iron ore twinkled in the light.

  Small guard huts were scattered throughout the pit in various states of disrepair. Scaffolding ran alongside many of the pit’s walls, with beleaguered halflings standing on them, swinging pickaxes tiredly as they mined for metal. They were supervised by a mix of goblins and creatures that looked like larger, stronger versions of goblins holding wicked-looking whips with axes tucked in their belts. A small stream of lava flowed through the center of the pit, bubbling and casting slight heat distortions in the air above it. He cast his Analyze spell on one of the overseers, wondering if there would be a range limitation on the spell. Apparently not.

  Name: Harzintalkon. Race: Hobgoblin. Level: 4. Class: Fighter. Hit Points: 34/34. Spell Points: 0.

  After waiting for the cooldown, he tried another of the overseers that looked larger and stronger than the others.

  Name: Umak the Cruel. Race: Orc. Level: 8. Hit Points: 75/75. Spell Points: 0.

  Was “Cruel” part of his actual name or a nickname assigned by the system? Do I address him as Umak or Mr. the Cruel?

  He noticed other goblins overseeing the miners, but also saw a goblin doing some of the mining, working side by side with the halflings. An image of Dobby’s back, crisscrossed with slashes from a whip, came unbidden to Jack’s mind. He wondered if Dobby had worked the mines before being “promoted.”

  Watching the miners a little longer, he took in the vast scene: the constant sound of pickaxes clanging off dirt and stone, whip cracks snapping down onto a helpless halfling that had been trying to take a drink of water from a soot-covered rain barrel, and the whimpers of exhaustion and pain as the halflings continued to pick up and move rock. He could just make out the sound of picks striking rock deeper in a few of the tunnels. The miners, shackles on their ankles tethering their legs together, moved at a slow, dogged pace, clearly exhausted.

  As he continued surveying the area, Jack saw a large pit toward the right side of the cave with a half-eaten foot sticking out of it, apparently the final resting place for miners at the end of their strength. He counted at least twenty miners and five hobgoblin guards spaced out in the pit, and one goblin guard manning a post at each of the dozen tunnel entrances, along with the powerfully built orc. Those tunnels were sure to have more guards. At that moment, he saw a small figure shamble out of a tunnel, carrying a bucket of the dark ro
ck to a nearby pile. Jack couldn’t make out any details of the small figure, so he cast Analyze again.

  Name: Bryan. Race: Halfling. Profession: Tailor. Level: 2. Hit Points: 8/12. Spell Points: 0.

  He Analyzed another dozen or so of the halflings; all were in similar states of health. He didn’t see any gates or walls stopping the miners from walking up the path to where Jack sat, some three hundred feet above the pit. However, based on the overall condition of the miners, Jack doubted they had the strength to make it to him even if the guards let them try.

  He rejoined Gooch and filled him in on what he saw. “The pearl is in that mess somewhere, but even if there wasn’t a pearl, we need to free those miners. They’re being worked to death and literally thrown away into a mass grave without a second thought, like candy wrappers. We gotta do something to help them,” Jack pleaded. “I also made a vow to Liam that I would free his wife, if she is still alive.”

  Gooch thought for a moment before telling Jack his plan. When he was finished, Jack looked at him dubiously.

  “I don’t see how me dressing up as a sexy female hobgoblin will help us,” Jack finally said, unsure if his friend was serious.

  “It always worked for Bugs Bunny,” Gooch replied. “I kid, but we do need a distraction. We have no chance of fighting six hobgoblins, an orc, and another dozen goblins, not to mention whatever they have in the tunnels. Our best chance is to create a distraction and try to free the miners who can help us in our fight against the guards. Even then it is risky. A better option might be for you to try and sneak down there and find the pearls. We can always come back to free them if we think it’s important, after we get more backup.”

  “Those halflings don’t have a lot of time; they are walking zombies. Look Gooch, one halfling already died on my watch in my first encounter with the goblins; I’m not going to repeat that experience,” Jack stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. “But I’m with you on the distraction idea. We need to win this encounter with our wits and not with brute force or our dashing good looks.”

  “Lean in a second and I will share my new plan,” Gooch said, then continued in a muted whisper. “Psss shhh pi-shh shh shhhhh . . . and . . . shhh pshhh . . .”

  “Hold up a second, muchacho!” Jack interrupted. “Are you seriously huddling together with me and making loud whispering noises? You’re crazy. I like you, but you’re crazy!” Jack sighed before taking one point of bludgeoning damage from a facepalm.

  “Well shit, it works in cartoons! I thought the RPG nature of this world might allow it to work. You know, the ‘so stupid it just might work’ kind of plan? I mean, there is so much other weird stuff going on here. Why not this? I don’t know, maybe some sort of Stupid Is as Stupid Does 1 kind of perk?” Gooch explained, with obvious disappointment but no sign of embarrassment.

  Jack decided to take the reins of this situation and chalk up what had just happened to Gooch’s newfound stone giant heritage. “Alright, Goochy.” Jack waited for an angry response, but after detecting none, continued, “Here’s what we’re going to do.” He explained as he walked his friend down the tunnel and toward the mines.

  Chapter 29

  Leaving Gooch at the cliff’s edge, Jack walked down the left path, descending toward the pit. He used all forty-one points of his stealth skill to move as silently as possible, darting into every shadow that the rough-hewn wall had to offer. After a few minutes of slow movement, he made it down to the edge of the pit and crouched behind a pile of iron ore.

  He took a moment to look at his surroundings. Up close, the condition of the miners was heartbreaking. Gaunt faces and lean, almost skeletal bodies were only partially hidden under threadbare, dirty tunics, and most of the prisoners he saw trudged around in zombie-like lethargy. There were a few prisoners obviously newer to the mines, walking with more energy and clothes that, although dirty, had fewer holes. There were tunnels on either side of him; the one to his left was about thirty feet away, and the one to his right was about twenty feet. A bored goblin stood guard at each tunnel. Well, stood is not the right word; they sat guard in a fugue state somewhere between awake and asleep.

  It would be nice to cast the Sleep spell; these guys would definitely fail that check, but as Grandpa used to say, there is no use crying when fisticuffs are still an option. The nearest hut to Jack was about eighty feet away, and Jack would need to go past the tunnel on his right to get there, directly in front of the sleepy goblin. It comforted him to know that even in Rigara, it was hard to find good help. Once he was past the goblin, he would be in the clear; the other guards were either watching the miners on the scaffolding or shooting the breeze by a campfire near one of the other huts. But how to get past the goblin? Even a tired goblin would notice him passing right in front of it.

  He picked up a fist-sized piece of ore and began walking toward the goblin. When he was ten feet away and hiding behind the lip of the tunnel wall, he threw his rock about ten feet past the guard. It landed on the ground with a mild thud, loud enough to snap the guard out of its reverie. He turned toward where the stone had landed, and that was all the time Jack needed to sneak behind the creature, grab its mouth with one hand, and slide his dagger over the creature’s throat with his other hand. Jack felt some of his venison beginning to stage its own prison escape in his stomach, but he kept it down by thinking of the halfling prisoners. Not knowing what else to do, he stuffed the goblin into his backpack, a truly gruesome and horrifying experience—yet oddly satisfying. This adventurer’s backpack is amazing! The dark deed done, he crept silently along the pit wall, making it to the nearest guard hut undetected.

  Up close, he could see that the square guard hut was made of layers of stone with some type of dried mud used as mortar. Unfortunately, there were no windows, so Jack crouched low and made his way to the front of the hut, eyes tracking the guards that were at another hut’s campfire. This gave him his first good look at a hobgoblin. They were taller, stronger, and generally more athletic looking than their goblin cousins, with reddish-brown hairy hides, large, pointed ears, and slightly oversized blunt noses. They were also close to Jack’s height of five foot nine and appeared significantly more formidable than the goblins that Jack was now just getting comfortable fighting. He would leave those guys to Gooch. Mental note: don’t tell Gooch.

  Reaching the hut door, he opened it with supreme care and peered in. It was nearly pitch black, so he switched to Darkvision and its fifty shades of grey. The hut was spacious enough to accommodate three bunk beds on its far wall, each with a crude wooden chest at the end presumably used to stow the guards’ gear. On the wall to Jack’s left, he saw mostly empty weapon racks and a few chain shirts hanging from hooks. Jack’s acute hearing picked up the soft, steady breathing of someone in the upper bunk of the rightmost bed.

  Slipping into the hut, he softly shut the door behind him, wincing at the slight click it made when it was completely shut. Waiting a few incredibly stressful moments, he made sure the breathing remained unchanged before tiptoeing toward the sleeping creature. He still had a problem killing in cold blood but couldn’t start a fire with someone sleeping a few feet away. He thought of the partially eaten halfling to strengthen his resolve.

  The top bunk of the bunk bed was only about four feet off the ground, allowing Jack to easily stand over the sleeping creature, a feminine-looking hobgoblin. She—at least Jack thought it was a she—had long, dark, greasy hair, a pockmarked face, and the typical large, blunt nose. Saying a prayer of forgiveness, he slammed both of his weapons into her heart. The blades easily pierced the thin shirt she wore. Her eyes popped open, revealing black pupils that seemed to stare into Jack’s soul, and a soft “Why?” escaped her lips as she died.

  Why did everyone keep asking “why” as they died? Something to consider when I have more time. He tore off her shirt and pulled his flint from the adventuring backpack. It took him just under a minute to coax the dirty, greasy shirt to catch fire. After that was done, he was able
to get the other blankets from the beds burning. It wouldn’t take more than four or five minutes before the weapon racks and beds caught on fire. Time to go!

  He desperately wanted to loot the chests in the room but didn’t have the time. Moving back to the doorway, he opened it a crack and peered out. There were four guards still hunkered down by the fire, and a few more spread out across the pit watching the miners. No one was close to his hut, so he opened the door and moved quickly back to the pit wall. Unsure of how much time he had before they noticed the fire, he hurried back toward the tunnel previously guarded by the goblin he’d killed and breathed a sigh of relief when he arrived undetected.

  Heading into the tunnel, he began to run, knowing speed was more of a concern than stealth at this point. His acute hearing easily picked up sounds of pickaxes clanging away at the hard rock farther down the dark tunnel.

  He slowed his run to a walk, trying to be stealthy again for the last few feet as he closed in on the clang of the pickaxes. The tunnel dead-ended into a small room, roughly twenty-five feet in diameter. Six prisoners, all halflings, were spaced out evenly along the boundary of the room. Piles of loose stone lay around the room, the results of their handiwork. The prisoners each wore shackles, with a chain connecting them all together, ensuring they could not easily escape even if they had the strength.

  A single goblin guard watched over them while antagonizing a female halfling as she struggled with the work of repeatedly lifting her pickaxe to break apart the rock. He wore a lewd grin on his grimy face, as the holes in her tunic gave him access to more than was proper. When she slowed or took a break, he was quick to respond with a crack of his whip. Jack didn’t hesitate, and his Stealth Status perk remained closed and green as he moved behind the small goblin and executed a perfect coup de grace, neatly beheading the skinny creature. The noise of the brief struggle shook the diminutive miners out of their lethargy.