d6 (Caverns and Creatures)

by Robert Bevan

  “We appreciate your kind hospitality,” said Julian.

  “Aw, ain’t you a sweet thing,” she said, beaming back at him. Then her face turned serious. “I don’t know what you boys reckon you gonna find in the Swamp of Shadows, but I reckon it’s only gonna be trouble an’ death. Now y’all go on and do what you gotta do. But Miss Marsha gonna send y’all off with some words of wisdom.”

  “We would appreciate that,” said Dave.

  “Hmph,” said Big Marsha, putting her fleshy hands against her wide hips. “Iffin y’all be willin’ to listen to some true wisdom, you’d scoot yo’ cute little asses back on home to Cardinia. But I done said my piece about that.”

  “What further wisdom do you wish to bestow upon us?” asked Julian.

  Big Marsha shook her head and smiled. The grey-green skin of her cheeks actually turned a little pink. “Boy, you could charm the skin off a snake talkin’ like that.”

  Julian looked at Tim for a clue as to what he should infer from that.

  Tim shrugged. “Maybe you rolled a 20 this time.”

  Big Marsha wore her serious face again. “Here’s what I gots to tell you.” She raised a finger. “One, don’t start no shit with the lizardfolk up in there. They ain’t so used to outsiders as we are here.” She raised a second finger. “Two. There’s a crazy old man out there. I don’t know how he live or what he do, but he been out there since before my mamma hatched. You stay away from him. He won’t hurt you if you leave him be. Now, he may try to provoke you, but whatever he do, you just ignore him and go on about yo’ business.”

  Dave, Tim, and Cooper lowered their heads and averted their eyes.

  “Thank you for your advice,” said Julian.

  “Y’all stop by on yo’ way back, iffin you’s still alive, hear?”

  As they continued down the shell path, they spotted a house here and there. Some were raised on posts, as Bon Temps had been, and others just floated freely in the water on pontoons. The few people they saw mostly pretended not to see them. Those who did acknowledge them simply shook their heads.

  The air was hot and humid. Julian’s shirt was soon soaked in enough sweat to neutralize the stickiness of his vomit. It was no less sticky, but it just felt better to be sticky with sweat. Eventually the path faded to dirt, then mud, then nothing but stagnant black water.

  “What do we do now?” asked Dave.

  “We keep going,” said Tim.

  “What? Walk through the swamp?” said Dave. “We don’t know what’s in that water. Couldn’t we build a raft, or a skiff, or something?”

  “We don’t have that kind of time,” said Tim.

  “But we don’t even know how deep it is,” said Dave.

  Cooper pushed Dave off the edge of the trail. For a moment, he was completely submerged, but he quickly found his footing and stood up. The water came up to his neck.

  “Fuck you, Cooper!” Dave shouted, reaching up his hand.

  Cooper grinned and pulled him out of the water. “Now we know.”

  “Dave and I are too short to walk through that,” said Tim.

  “I can carry you,” said Cooper. “But Dave’s heavy as a motherfucker in that armor.”

  “Julian?” said Tim.

  “What?” said Julian. “I can’t carry Dave. Look at me!”

  Cooper slapped his forehead. “Goddamnit, Julian! The one time you could use your stupid Mount spell for its intended purpose, and it doesn’t even occur to you.”

  “Oh right!” said Julian. “Horse!”

  The horse popped into existence, saddled and ready to serve. This one was brown, with a white underbelly and a white stripe down the front of his face.

  “Oh, you’re a pretty one,” said Julian, running his hand down the horse’s mane. “I’m going to call you ‘Stripe’.”

  “I’m going to call him ‘Two hours and counting’,” said Tim. “Let’s get moving.”

  With a little bit of a struggle, Cooper managed to heft Dave onto the horse. Tim sat up on top of Cooper’s shoulders, as if they really were father and son. Cooper, Julian, and Stripe stepped into the black water.

  They hadn’t been traveling twenty minutes when Dave started complaining.

  “Are you guys tired?” asked Dave through a yawn. “I’m exhausted.”

  “Quit your moaning, you pussy,” said Cooper. “You’re riding a fucking horse.”

  Dave’s heavy dwarven eyelids sank gradually until they closed completely. He didn’t look right. He was pale. He looked older somehow.

  “Is Dave all right?” asked Julian.

  “He’s probably just overheated because of his armor,” said Tim.

  Dave let out a loud snore and fell off of the horse into the water.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” said Cooper. He placed Tim on a nearby spot of ground above the water, and sloshed through the marsh to the place where Dave had fallen. He dragged Dave onto the high ground.

  Dave choked up a bit of water, and then went right on snoring.

  “Something’s wrong,” said Tim. “He looks like shit.”

  It was true. Dave’s eyes and cheeks were sunken. He looked like he had just aged fifty years.

  “Cooper,” said Tim. “Hold still. You’ve got something on your leg.” He pulled out a dagger.

  Cooper froze at the sight of Tim’s dagger. “What is it?”

  “Nothing to worry about,” said Tim. “Just a second.” A quick poke and it was done. The black spot on Cooper’s leg popped like a balloon filled with blood and fell off. “Just a leech.”

  It took a moment for Julian to consider some ramifications. “Leeches!” He tore his serape off and began to unbutton his shirt. He’d stripped completely naked before he discovered two leeches on each of his ankles. “Get them off! Get them off!”

  Tim plucked off the little blood-suckers with his dagger.

  Julian sat down against a cypress knee and caught his breath. A though occurred to him. “Dave!” he shouted.

  “What?” said Tim.

  “Leeches!” cried Julian. “Take off his armor!”

  At once, Julian, Tim, and Cooper went to work on Dave’s armor. Tim slapped Julian and Cooper’s hands away, as he was the only one nimble enough to unfasten the buckles in a timely manner.

  As Tim unfastened the buckles, Cooper removed the plates, revealing huge, bloated leeches all over Dave’s body. Julian frantically ripped them away as they were revealed. He hesitated at the sight of a leech on Dave’s scrotum, and at least twice the size of it. Tim made short work of it with his dagger.

  “Wake him up!” said Julian.

  Tim slapped Dave on the face a couple of times. “Come on, man. Wake up!”

  “Five more minutes, mom,” said Dave.

  Julian splashed water on Dave’s face.

  “I don’t want to go to school, mom!” said Dave. “Coach Dickerson watches me in the shower!”

  Julian, Tim, and Cooper stared silently at one another for a moment.

  “I told you there was something off about Dickerson,” said Cooper.

  Tim slapped Dave in the face again. “Come on, Dave. You’ve got to heal yourself!”

  “I told you that twelve years ago,” said Cooper.

  “Okay!” said Tim. “So you were right about Coach Dickerson. Focus on Dave. He’s lost a shitload of blood and he’s slipping away.”

  “Oh my god,” said Julian. “He’s emaciated.”

  Cooper cupped his hands underwater and held it over Dave’s genitals. “Frost me.”

  “What?” said Julian.

  “Ray of Frost!” shouted Cooper. “Hurry the fuck up!”

  “Frost,” said Julian, pointing a finger at the water cupped in Cooper’s hands. The water turned into a solid chunk of ice.

  “Motherfucker!” shouted Cooper, ripping his hands away. The ice chunk fell into the water. Cooper rubbed his hands together a few times, grabbed the ice chunk, and rubbed it on Dave’s balls.

  Dave’s eyes went
wide. “The fuck!” He screamed. “Cooper, what are you doing? Get off of my nuts!”

  “Heal yourself,” said Tim.

  “Huh?” said Dave.

  “Hurry up!” said Tim. “Before you pass out again. Just do it!”

  “I heal me,” said Dave. With some effort, he brought his finger to his nose. At once, he became more focused, and some color returned to his face.

  Tim sighed with relief. “Good job. I thought we’d lost you. Better have one more go.”

  “I heal me,” said Dave. His face and body expanded with fresh blood like a balloon. His dwarf dick stood up at attention, and Tim, Cooper, and Julian looked away.

  “What’s that squirting out of him?” asked Ravenus.

  “Ew, Ravenus!” said Julian. “Just let it go, huh?”

  Once Dave had covered his essentials, the rest of the group helped him strap his armor back on.

  Stripe gave a small whinny. When Julian turned to look at the horse, he was shocked by how thin it was. Its formerly white underbelly was black and bloated with a nest of fat leeches.

  “Stripe!” Julian cried.

  The horse’s eyes rolled up and it fell over, blinking out of existence when it hit the ground. A hundred or more fat leeches squirmed on the ground, confused at having suddenly lost their host.

  “You bastards!” Julian screamed jumping up and down on the leeches, spraying horse blood all over the ground.

  “Congratulations,” said Cooper. “You’ve murdered another horse.”

  “I didn’t –” Something warm and pasty splashed onto the side of Julian’s face. “What the…?” He wiped his face and looked at his hand. The substance was thick and brown, specked with bits of red. It smelled like… “Is this shit?”

  A laugh wheezed out from a nearby cypress tree. Julian looked up and saw a naked old man in a fit of laughter. He had long, matted white hair and a beard that hung down to his navel. His pubes were also matted and white, hanging down to his knees like a second beard.

  “It’s him!” said Dave. “That’s the old man we’re supposed to –” Splat. Dave got a faceful of old man shit. He spat and spat. “Fuck! That went in my mouth!”

  Cooper had readied his greataxe for a fight, but it fell by his side as he laughed at Dave. When his own chest was suddenly splattered with shit, he barely seemed to notice. He just kept laughing at Dave.

  Tim was less amused. He furrowed his brow as he cocked back his hand crossbow. “Let’s do what we came here to do and get the hell out of here.” He leveled the weapon at the old man and fired.

  The crazy old bastard made no move to dodge or even flinch. He snatched the bolt right out of the air, rubbed the shaft up and down his ass-crack, and threw it back at Tim, laughing his foul, wheezy laugh. The bolt landed short of Tim, still in usable condition, but Tim opted to load a fresh bolt.

  “I’ll admit that was pretty impressive,” said Tim. “But I’m starting to think ‘unpleasant’ was a bit of an understate—“ Splat. Tim’s shirt and vest were soaked in shit. “Oh come on, man! I just had these cleaned, you dick!” He tried to wipe it off with his hand, but only managed to smear it around.

  “Let’s see him try to catch this,” said Julian. “Magic Missile!” A golden bolt of magic shot toward the old man. He opened his shit-caked palms and hissed an inarticulate word. The Magic Missile was absorbed by a shimmering force field in front of him.

  “Shit,” said Julian. “He’s a sorcerer.”

  “Double shit,” said Tim. “I think I just found his familiar.”

  “Oh my God!” cried Dave, genuine terror in his voice. He stroked the leopard fur on his forearm.

  Julian turned his attention from the old man in the tree to see what they were looking at. A panther stalked out of the shadows, snarling aggressively, but not yet making a move to attack.

  “Go,” the old man rasped.

  “He can talk,” Tim said to Julian. “Maybe he’s having a lucid moment. Try to reason with him. Use your Diplomacy.”

  “What’s the Difficulty Check for convincing a person to let us murder him?”

  Tim sighed. “No, dumbass. See if you can convince him to move to a different part of the swamp or something. We can tell Esteban and Razorback we killed him, and no one will be the – Ow!”

  A plume of black feathers was suddenly poking out of Tim’s neck. His eyes rolled back and he fell forward into the mud.

  “Tim?” said Cooper. A black dart, just like the one which had struck Tim, suddenly appeared on Cooper’s chest. “The fuck?” He said, looking down at it. Fwop. Fwop. Fwop. Three more darts flew from out of the shadows to pierce Cooper from every direction.

  “What’s going on?” said Julian. He looked up in the tree. The old man was gone. The panther had disappeared as well.

  A dart clinked off of Dave’s armor. He picked it up. The needle was coated in some kind of sticky orange paste.

  Julian resisted the urge to summon a horse to hide behind. Whoever was out there lurking in the shadows had them outclassed and outnumbered. A horse wasn’t going to save him this time.

  He felt a prick in the back of the neck and fell swiftly into darkness.

  When Julian woke up, the left side of his face burned and itched, and his left eye was swollen shut. Looking up with his good eye, he discovered that his arms and legs were constrained by living vines holding him spread-eagle between two trees. Desperately wanting to scratch his itchy face, he struggled against the vines, but they were too strong and thick. He rubbed his face on his shoulder.

  “Now don’t go and scratch it,” said a familiar reptilian voice. “You only make it worse.”

  Julian turned to the source. “Boudreaux?”

  “Don’t go lookin’ all surprised,” said Boudreaux, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Miss Marsha done told you don’t be messin’ with the old man.”

  Looking beyond Boudreaux, Julian spotted Dave. He was also restrained with vines, and his whole face was swollen and red. He breathed frantically through his nose, as his tongue filled his whole mouth, poking out like a big pink tomato.

  Tim was to Dave’s left, his right hand beet red and as large as his head. His eyes were closed and he was moaning, as if in some sort of delirium.

  Cooper was wrapped in a thicker tangle of vines than everyone else, an obvious precaution against his great strength. He didn’t appear to have been affected by the strange rash the rest of them were suffering from, but he didn’t look happy to be restrained at all. He squirmed and struggled and swore at the vines. When they wouldn’t budge, he said “I’m really angry.”

  “Wait, Cooper!” said Julian. “Let’s see what they –”

  “Rrrwwwaaauuurrrggghhh!” roared Cooper, his body hulking out. He wrapped his giant hands around his constraints and ripped them right out of the trees. The vines around his legs suffered a similar fate. He beat his massive chest, raised his hands, and bellowed out a victory roar.

  Fwop. Fwop. Fwop. Fwop. Fwop. Fwop. Cooper’s victory was cut short by half a dozen darts in the chest. He collapsed into the mud.

  Cooper’s assailants emerged from behind trees. Six lizardmen, each armed with naught but a reed tube.

  They picked up Cooper and plucked the darts out of his chest.

  A seventh lizardman waddled onto the scene. He was a great deal fatter than the other ones. Not Big Marsha fat, but still a great deal fatter than what Julian judged was the norm for lizardfolk. This one wore a necklace and skirt made of alligator teeth. The former looked to be made of normal alligator teeth, the latter from something akin to what greeted customers at Bon Temps.

  The six lizardmen holding Cooper raised him off the ground, spreading his arms and legs out as they had been before. The fat lizardman stood facing Cooper. He began to wave his arms and chant in a language that Julian didn’t understand. Boudreaux stepped back, keeping well out of their way.

  “What are they doing to him?” asked Julian.

  “They just putting hi
m back up where he belong,” said Boudreaux. “Make sho’ he don’t hurt himself.”

  As the fat lizardman chanted, new vines crept down out of the treetops and up out of the tangled roots and cypress knees, wrapping themselves tightly around Cooper’s wrists and calves. When Cooper was sufficiently secure, the fat lizardman stopped chanting.