d6 (Caverns and Creatures)

by Robert Bevan

  “Fuck, that hurt,” said Julian, rising unsteadily to his feet.

  “It was subdual damage,” said Cooper. “I willed it as I was punching you.”

  “Thanks a lot,” said Julian, rubbing his nose. Then his eyes lit up. “I’ve got it! Tickle me.”

  “What?” said Tim.

  “I hate being tickled,” Julian explained. “If you guys all tickle me, I really will lose my shit and start to panic.”

  “You really want us to tickle you?” asked Dave.

  “Well not necessarily you,” said Julian. “No offense, but I’d just rather not get tickled by a naked dwarf.”

  “You’re really that ticklish?” asked Cooper. He poked a probing finger under Julian’s ribs. Julian swatted it away with the speed of a ninja.

  This brought a wicked grin to Cooper’s face. He looked at Tim. Tim shrugged, and the two of them attacked Julian with wiggling fingers.

  Julian let out a yelp, but Cooper quickly clamped his giant hand over his face. Julian dropped to the ground and, just as he promised, immediately began to lose his shit. His arms and legs flailed about wildly and uselessly as tears streamed out of his eyes. Tim and Cooper appeared to be having a sadistically good time.

  “This is gayer than being fucked by pirates,” said Dave, shaking his head and covering his junk.

  About a minute later, Ravenus appeared over the trees, homing in on their location like a guided missile. He landed on Cooper’s head and started pecking away.

  “Ow!” said Cooper, swatting at the bird. His hand made contact, sending Ravenus beak-first into the sand.

  “What the devil is going on here?” Ravenus demanded once he righted himself and shook off the sand.

  “Don’t worry,” said Dave. “They’re just having some fun.” He wanted to cross his arms to demonstrate his annoyance that Cooper and Tim were still tickling Julian, but that would involve him exposing himself. He cleared his throat instead.

  “Excuse me,” said Ravenus. His tone suggested that he was annoyed as well. “As soon as you three…” Dave just knew the word “idiots” was on the tip of the bird’s beak. “…guys are finished this… well, whatever this is, I thought you might like to know that there are two peacocks over there you might be interested in eating.”

  Tim and Cooper finally released Julian.

  Julian wiped tears from the corner of his eyes as he gasped for breath. “You’re sure that’s okay with you?”

  Ravenus cocked his head, staring inquisitively at his master. “Why wouldn’t that be okay with me?”

  “What’s he saying?” asked Cooper impatiently.

  “He says it’s okay for us to eat the peacocks.”

  “Ha!” said Cooper. “Birds are dicks.”

  “Can you reach them from here?” asked Tim.

  “No problem,” said Julian. “The range on a Magic Missile is incredible.” He rolled his wet, sand-covered sleeve up all the way to his shoulder and waved his skinny, bare elf arm around in a circle, making sure he his soaked clothes wouldn’t inhibit his movement. He pointed his arm at one of the unsuspecting peacocks, palm out and fingers spread. “Magic Missile.”

  Tiny bolts of blue and white lightning crackled down the length of Julian’s arm. Even Julian looked surprised at it, although he did not look at all frightened. When the magic reached his hand, it shot out of his palm in a glowing golden bolt of energy, sailed over the sand, and found its mark.

  The unfortunate peacock barely saw it coming. One second, it was raising its head to gobble down a fat, juicy ant. The next second, its head was gone. With a quiet splat, the bird’s beautiful display of tail feathers was a mess of blood, bone, and brain.

  The top of its neck gave a half-hearted squirt of blood into the air, and then flopped forward like a limp dick.

  The other peacock let out a loud squawk and disappeared into the trees. Julian let it go. He was massaging his bare arm.

  “Are you okay?” asked Dave.

  “Yeah,” said Julian. “Just tingles is all. I think it was the magic reacting with the salt water.”

  “Good job,” said Tim. “Does anyone know how to make a fire?”

  “Not without my tinder box,” said Dave.

  “Anyway,” said Cooper. “We just had a fucking monsoon. There’s not going to be so much as a dry stick on this whole goddamn island.”

  “Well that kind of throws a wrench into our plan,” said Julian. “Is it safe to eat raw peacock?”

  “I’d wait at least a couple of days until the body’s had time to properly start decomposing,” suggested Ravenus.

  “I’ll just stick to coconuts for now,” said Tim. “Let’s work on building a raft.”

  Cooper felled a total of two dozen palm trees. Tim found that, if he started it off with his front teeth, he was able to peel away nice long strips of green bark, which Julian and Dave braided into ropes. Hopefully, they would be sturdy enough to hold the trunks together at sea.

  The four of them worked all day and through the night. The next morning, the rising sun revealed the fruit of their labor in all its glory.

  “We’re going to fucking die,” said Cooper.

  “So it’s not the most elegant-looking ship on the ocean,” said Tim. “We’ve tested the wood. It’s buoyant. If it keeps our heads out of the water, and we can get it to keep heading west, it’ll get us back to Cardinia.”

  “How much of what you just said do you actually believe?” asked Dave. He frowned at the raft. The largest tree trunks were held together with two sets of manacles. The third set, along with supporting branches that took up nearly half the deck space, held the mast in place. “We don’t even have a sail.”

  “I think we all know what has to be done,” said Tim. He and Julian briefly made eye contact, and then both of them looked down at the ground. “We’re going to need to use our clothes.”

  Without a needle or thread, sewing the clothes together proved to be a challenge, even for Tim’s nimble halfling fingers. He did his best to align them so that shapes fit together and buttonholes lined up, but it was inevitable that he had to use a stick to punch new holes into places. He wove strands of coconut husk through the holes and tied the garments together. Just before the sun reached the western horizon, he had completed a rather impressive triangular sail.

  They carefully tipped the raft on its side to attach the sail to the mast. Dave let out a sigh of relief when they tipped it back upright and it didn’t fall apart.

  The four of them stood in the last light of the evening, hands over their junk, taking in their creation.

  “Well,” said Tim. “Who’s ready to go?”

  “What, now?” asked Julian. “Shouldn’t we wait until dawn?”

  “What difference does it make?” asked Tim. “It’s going to take at least a few days to get back, and that’s if we get lucky with the wind. There’s no way to avoid traveling at night. I’d rather get this over with as soon as we can than sit on this island and get eaten by ants.”

  “But you’re borderline suicidal,” said Dave. “I think we should put it to a vote.”

  “I’m with Tim,” said Cooper. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  “But you’re stupid,” said Dave. “I’m not sure if your vote should count when our lives are on the line.”

  “I’m not sure you understand how democracy works,” said Tim. “You can’t just discount the vote of everyone who disagrees with you.”

  “I’m just saying maybe we should get a good night’s sleep first,” said Dave.

  “We’re going to be four naked dudes adrift on the ocean,” said Julian. “I’d think you would want to sleep through as much of that as possible.” He sighed. “I wish elves could sleep.”

  “Don’t you see?” pleaded Dave. “This is not a sea-worthy vessel. We are going to die on this piece of shit raft!”

  “It’s the best we could do,” said Tim. “I’d rather die at sea, trying to get home, than spend the rest of my life lo
oking at your dong.”

  Dave had no counterargument. He didn’t want to spend any more time looking at their dongs either. He helped his friends gather what little they had onto the raft. Their provisions included a bottle and a half of fresh water, three dozen coconuts, and one fat peacock carcass. At least Ravenus would eat well when the rest of them shat themselves to death from salmonella poisoning.

  They pushed their craft away from the island, following the sun as it disappeared over the horizon. Much to Dave’s surprise, the sail actually caught a bit of wind, pushing the raft slowly through the water without ripping it to pieces.

  Cooper, who had done most of the heavy lifting during the raft’s construction, was the first to tap out. His hand fell away and allowed his big half-orc schlong to flop out into full view. He hadn’t been kidding about the scales and bumps. To the best of Dave’s knowledge, Cooper hadn’t had a chance to pick up any venereal diseases since they’d arrived in this world. It must have just been one more symptom of his horribly low Charisma score. Dave silently cursed his Darkvision and looked away.

  Tim didn’t last much longer than Cooper. Ripping the bark off of trees with his teeth all day had apparently worn the little guy out. Dave had been so used to picturing Tim as looking like a little kid that he was surprised by just how hairy he was. He had a chest like Tom Selleck, and his crotch looked like a bird’s nest with a baby jalapeño growing out of it. Dave looked away, his eyes searching for something to look at other than cock.

  Julian was still awake and covering himself. He stared out at the slowly retreating island, as calm as Dave had ever seen a person look.

  “So,” said Dave. “How long do you think we can last on those two bottles of water?”

  Julian said nothing. He just continued to stare, unblinking, into the dark beyond. Shit. He must be in his elf trance.

  Feeling a sudden overwhelming loneliness, Dave huddled on the raft, ass to his friends, and fell asleep.

  

  He woke up feeling refreshed. He must have had been more tired than he thought. When he opened his eyes, the sunlight was blinking on and off as the raft rocked on the gentle waves. He turned his head to look for the sun, and found a diseased grey serpent in its place.

  “WHAT THE FUCK!” Nothing clears away the morning grogginess quite like a half-orc dick dangling right above your face. “Cooper, what are you… what the fuck!”

  “Chill out, dude,” said Tim. “I told him to stand there because you were starting to burn.”

  Dave looked down at his arm. It was pink, all right. Dwarves belonged in mountain caves. Their skin was not adapted to prolonged exposure to sunlight. “Sorry, Cooper,” he mumbled. “Thank you.”

  “Oh no,” said Cooper. “The pleasure was all mine. There’s nothing I’d rather do than stare at your big pale dwarf ass for hours on end.”

  “Can it, Coop,” said Tim. “We’ve got bigger things to worry about.” He looked at the mast. It was empty.

  “Where’s the sail?” Dave shouted.

  “We don’t know,” said Tim. “It must have been blown loose during the night. Ravenus is out looking for it now, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope. It could be anywhere.”

  Dave turned to Julian. “You don’t even sleep! Why didn’t you keep an eye on the sail?”

  “I was meditating,” said Julian. “I’m barely aware of my surroundings when I’m in my trance.”

  “It’s nobody’s fault,” said Tim. “It is what it is. Now we just have to figure out something else.”

  “What’s there to figure out?” asked Dave. “Take a look at our inventory. Maybe we could stick the dead peacock on the end of the mast, lasso a shark, and hold it out in front of him.”

  “See there,” said Tim. “You’ve already come up with an idea.”

  “I was joking!”

  “I don’t know,” said Cooper. “It sounded okay to me. As a potential solution, that is. As a joke, I feel it fell kind of flat.”

  “Fuck you, Cooper,” said Dave. “Do you realize how fucked we are?”

  “Losing your shit about it isn’t going to help,” said Tim. “Just calm down and think.”

  “Why didn’t you make any oars?” asked Dave.

  “We didn’t need oars,” said Tim. “We had a sail.”

  “Well that’s just brilliant.”

  “How many oars did you make, Captain Cockbeard?”

  “Guys!” said Julian. “Less fighting. More thinking.”

  The four of them sat and thought. No ideas had yet been proposed by the time Ravenus came flying back.

  Julian stood up quickly, one hand holding the mast, and the other holding his junk. “Did you find anything?”

  “Sorry, sir,” said the bird as he perched atop the mast. “Nothing but water for miles around. I couldn’t even find the island. I beg your forgiveness.”

  “It’s okay,” said Julian. “Thanks for trying.”

  “I take it that was a no,” said Cooper, who couldn’t understand Elven.

  “Whatever our next move,” said Tim, “we have to make sure we survive.” He looked up at Ravenus. “Do you think you could catch us some fish?”

  “Do I look like waterfowl to you?” the bird snapped back at him.

  A brief but awkward silence followed.

  “If you want the water foul,” said Dave, “why don’t you ask Cooper to jump in?”

  Julian cringed.

  “That was lame,” said Tim.

  “Oh come on,” said Dave. “Don’t even tell me you guys weren’t thinking of the exact same joke.”

  Tim looked at his feet. “Okay, so I was still working out the wording in my head.”

  “Me too,” Julian mumbled.

  “I don’t get it,” said Cooper.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Dave. “Tim was right. It was kind of lame.”

  “Dude,” said Cooper. “Your jokes suck.”

  Dave crossed his arms over his chest and sulked, not minding that it left his wang hanging out for all to see. He had nothing to be ashamed of after seeing Cooper’s leper dick and Tim’s tiny sausage. He hadn’t yet had the displeasure of seeing what Julian was packing, but if it was anything like the rest of his body, it probably looked like a garden snake.

  After half an hour or so of silent, aimless drifting, Tim and Cooper lowered their guard as well. Tim propped his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his palms. Cooper sprawled out for a nap on the front of the raft, using the peacock carcass as a pillow. Julian kept his privates private, and Dave began to grow concerned about just how much he wanted to confirm his garden snake theory. It’s not gay. It’s scientific curiosity.

  He was on the brink of just flat out asking Julian to let him see his member when a splash from behind interrupted his thoughts.

  “Greetings!” sang a voice that nearly sent Dave into the water. He turned around to see a young man and woman standing in the improbably waist-high sea. Each of them offered a friendly wave with one arm while keeping the other hand conspicuously below the water. Closer inspection revealed that the water was not waist-high at all. Everything below their waist was the tail of a fish, sparkling just beneath the surface of the water. The man wore a familiar-looking white silk robe, while the woman was bare-chested, wearing only some sort of strange cotton headpiece, separating her long, flowing hair into two plumes atop her head.

  “Mermaids!” said Julian.

  “Merfolk,” the male one corrected him.

  “I’m sorr— Hey, are you wearing my robe?”

  “We are grateful for the gifts which you have bestowed upon us,” said the female. Her voice was like angel song.

  “Excuse me,” said Cooper. “Shouldn’t you be… um… covering up your nip-nips with clamshells or something?”

  “That sounds terribly uncomfortable,” said the mermaid. “Does my body upset you gentlemen? You seem unconcerned for your own modesty. Where are your coverings?”

  “They’re on your
fucking head,” said Tim.

  That’s when it hit Dave. That wasn’t a headpiece at all. She was wearing Tim’s pants upside down on her head. He had to admit, she was making it work.

  The merman and mermaid looked at one another briefly, then he spoke up.

  “We have come to return the favor with a gift of our own.” He pulled a shining silver trident out of the water. Two of the three prongs were impaling a two foot long tuna. “Behold! The marvelous bounty of the sea we bring to—” He stopped short as a coconut bounced off his head.