d6 (Caverns and Creatures)

by Robert Bevan

  Drockmar looked at Julian and pointed at Cooper. “Ice. Balls.”

  Julian looked at Dave.

  “Fine,” said Dave, taking off his helmet.

  Once Cooper was awake, Julian summoned three horses. He mounted one, Cooper helped Dave onto the second, and Cooper mounted the third, with Tim riding piggy-back on Cooper. They bade their former captors farewell, and rode off down the shell trail.

  The ride was refreshing, the sun and breeze drying the swamp out of their clothing and hair. Ravenus flew above them. Julian could feel his familiar’s exhilaration in his own heart. Time was lost to the rhythmic beat of hooves on ground. They had been riding maybe an hour and change without incident, passing only a few travelers this early in the morning, when Julian spotted an owlbear stalking around just ahead of the eastern tree line.

  “Horse! Stop!” he said, and the horse obeyed. Cooper and Dave stopped their horses with some effort about fifty feet ahead of Julian.

  “What are you doing?” asked Dave.

  “There’s an owlbear,” said Julian.

  “Who gives a fuck?” said Cooper. “What do you want? To go and get your picture taken with him?”

  “Come on, man,” said Tim. “Let’s go.”

  Julian pointed at the owlbear. “Magic Missile.” The golden bolt of magical energy zipped through the tall grass until it struck the owlbear in the ass. The creature turned around and screamed. As far away as it was, its roar thundered across the grassy plain.

  “What the hell did you do that for?” asked Dave.

  “Because fuck owlbears,” said Julian. He waved his arms in the air. “Hey shithead!” he called out. “We’re over here!”

  The owlbear charged, flapping its arms as if some evolutionary memory made it believe it could fly.

  “Let’s go,” said Julian. “Yah!” His horse darted forward. Dave and Cooper’s horses galloped quickly behind him.

  Just as Julian had suspected, the owlbear’s speed was no match for their horses. It had scarcely reached the road when they lost sight of it behind them over the horizon.

  “That was pretty stupid,” said Dave, his horse galloping alongside Julian’s. “But you know what? You’re right. Fuck owlbears.”

  Julian smiled. “Look!” he said. The city walls. We’re almost –”

  There was a sound like a garbage truck rolling sideways down the side of a mountain. When Julian looked to his right, Dave was no longer next to him.

  “Horse!” Julian shouted. “St—“ For half a second, he was flying. He met the pavement suddenly and gracelessly. Feet. Knees. Elbows. Face. Though insufficient time had passed for shock to give way to agonizing pain, he was pretty sure he had broken all of the above. His mouth was full of blood and road grit. He wanted to stand up and call out for Dave to heal him, but he couldn’t even begin to think about moving. Not a single muscle responded to his brain’s commands.

  Julian lay on the road, paralyzed and in a state of semi-consciousness, for what seemed like an eternity.

  “Master! Master!” Ravenus had landed on his arm, and was pecking him, trying to get some sort of response.

  Julian wished he could put his familiar’s mind to rest, but he couldn’t even manage a weak response. He had a sudden thought which provided no comfort. He hoped Ravenus would allow him to properly die before he tried to eat his eyeballs.

  Ravenus left him, and his body turned over onto its back. Someone must have kicked him, but he felt no foot, nor could he see anything.

  “Jesus Christ,” said Dave.

  “What happened to his face?” said Cooper.

  “I think that’s what’s smeared all over the road.”

  “Well fuck, dude,” said Cooper. “Get to it already.”

  “I heal thee,” said Dave.

  Suddenly, Julian’s face started to burn. It was agonizing, but it was feeling. That was good. The burning sensation was muted away by the cracking and fusing together of his shattered elbows and knees. “Yehehehahahahowowyoyou!” He cried.

  “He still looks like shit,” said Cooper. “Give him another one.”

  “I heal thee,” said Dave. Julian could feel Dave’s hand on his forehead.

  The second healing was exhilarating. He still had some bumps and bruises, but he thought he could probably stand up. “Thanks,” he croaked up to Dave.

  “They really ought to put a spell-duration timer on those magical horses,” said Dave.

  “Seriously,” said Cooper. “The horses are more dangerous than the fucking –”

  “Owlbear!” cried Julian.

  “Well, yes,” said Cooper. “That’s what I was going to say. You didn’t have to interr—“

  “Owlbear!” Julian repeated, pointing at the northern horizon.

  Cooper followed Julian’s finger. “Well fuck.”

  “Run!” said Tim.

  “I can’t run in my armor!” said Dave.

  Tim started fumbling with the straps and buckles holding Dave’s armor together.

  “We don’t have time for this shit,” said Cooper. “I’m really angry!” His back and arms became rippled with muscle. He gripped the breastplate and backpiece where they met at the neck, and ripped them apart from one another, tearing the padding beneath them as well. In a barbarian rage frenzy, he continued ripping the armor off of Dave’s arms and legs, leaving behind only shredded remains of padding. Before long, Dave stood as naked as the day he was born.

  Julian knew what fear looked like when he saw a sprinting, naked dwarf, eyes wide with terror and dong flapping around like an unmanned firehose.

  Cooper picked up Tim and ran. The two of them had nothing to worry about. With Cooper’s barbarian rage in effect, and his Fast Movement class ability, they’d make it to the city gate with plenty of time to spare.

  Julian was certain of his own safety, not necessarily because he was faster than the owlbear, but because he was faster than Dave. He ran alongside Dave, trying to encourage him to move faster.

  “Come on!” said Julian. “Pick up the pace!”

  “Fuck you!” Dave huffed. “Look at my legs!”

  “I’ve seen quite enough of you, thanks,” said Julian, jogging backwards in order to keep an eye on the owlbear. It was gaining on them, and it looked pissed off. More pissed off than any owl or bear Julian had ever seen, and those are two animals naturally predisposed to looking pissed off.

  Then Julian saw something he didn’t expect to see. Cooper breezed past him like a freight train made out of ‘fuck you, owlbear’, and charged the feathered gorilla-beast.

  They each roared beastly, incoherent battle cries as they ran at one another.

  Cooper met the owlbear with an uppercut to the lower beak, sending its tip cracking through the roof of the upper beak. Whether that cost it some Hit Points or merely pissed it off some more was unclear.

  The owlbear wrapped its huge furry arms around Cooper and squeezed. Cooper’s arms flailed about. He like he was panicking.

  Julian stopped jogging backwards and started running toward the fight. “Cooper!” he cried.

  Cooper finally looked like he had a handle on what he was doing. He shoved his clawed thumbs into the owlbears armpits and pushed them in deep. When the owlbear backed off, it did so with a large chunk of skin missing from its chest, which Cooper spat out onto as he caught his breath. The creature howled in pain. Julian stopped running.

  Cooper and the owlbear circled one another counter-clockwise for a few steps, and then Cooper made his move. He lunged at the owlbear, trying to tackle it to the ground, but only managed to ram its chest wound.

  The owlbear gave another hug. Cooper tried the same thumb-to-armpit maneuver he’d done before, but his arms began to grow thinner. His barbarian rage had expired. He beat frantically at the owlbear’s sides, but the beast just hugged him even tighter.

  Julian ran toward them. He could at least kick it in the nuts or something… give Cooper a chance to recover. He was only twenty feet away when
he heard…

  “Elf! Stand down!”

  Julian turned around. “Holy shit!” A dozen city watchmen on horseback were pointing crossbows right at him. They were led by a Kingsguard holding a longbow with two arrows nocked. It was all too familiar. He put his hands in the air.

  “Get down, you fool!” said the Kingsguard.

  “Huh?” said Julian. “Oh, right!” He dropped flat on the ground.

  “Fire!” shouted the Kingsguard. The simultaneous Thwack of a dozen crossbows and the twang of a bow sent a swarm of steel-tipped missiles over Julian’s head and into the back, neck, and skull of the owlbear.

  Cooper fell to the ground, sucking in as much air as his lungs could hold. The owlbear tried to turn around, but Cooper was having none of it. He grabbed the beast by its massive chicken-like foot, and pulled. The owlbear fell backwards, landing on the hard road, the bolts and arrows pushing further into its back.

  If the owlbear had any life left in it after that, it provided no evidence. Cooper, either in an attempt to be thorough, or (more likely) because he was really pissed off at the creature, jumped up and down on its chest until its bones cracked. When he was satisfied, he hopped down onto the road.

  “You okay?” asked Julian.

  “Fuck owlbears,” said Cooper.

  “Are you harmed?” asked the Kingsguard, riding up alongside Cooper and Julian.

  “Nothing a gallon of beer won’t fix,” said Cooper.

  “That was quite a show you put on. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a person single-handedly attempt to fight an owlbear with his bare hands. Nasty creatures, those are.”

  Cooper grinned. “Just a big hairy chicken. If you fuckers hadn’t interfered, I’d have given you a real show.”

  “I have no doubt,” said the Kingsguard. “Now run along and tell your dwarf friend to put some clothes on, lest he have bigger troubles than owlbears.”

  ***

  Julian, Tim, Dave, and Cooper stood across the street from Razorback’s weapons shop, knowing they were steps away from entering a shop which they would exit either in chains, maimed, dead, or free. Dave wore Julian’s serape, which did little to obscure his nudity from the side and much to inhibit from walking properly. It got them stared at, but did not get them stopped.

  “This is it, guys,” said Julian. He unstoppered the waterskin Feather Dancer had given him and held it up without taking his eyes off the front of the shop. Cooper took it from him, which was just as well. If anyone needed the extra boost to his Charisma score, it was Cooper. “We’ve only got one chance to make our case, so everyone be on your best behavior, and let me do the –”

  “Cooper!” cried Dave.

  Cooper belched. “What?”

  Julian looked in horror at the empty, sagging waterskin in Cooper’s hand. “You fucking moron!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “That was meant to be for all of us!”

  Cooper frowned at the waterskin in his hand. “You can’t split one potion for ways. It won’t do anything.”

  “That was four potions! You heard Feather Dancer. We were each supposed to drink a potion!”

  “Well I figured there’d be a waterskin for each of us,” said Cooper.

  “Look at me, you jackass!” Julian spread out his skinny arms, revealing the lean frame of his body. “Do you see four fucking waterskins?”

  “Well I’m sorry,” said Cooper. “I just thought –” He doubled over in pain, like he was about to throw up. “I –” sweat started pouring out of his whole body, washing away his layer of filth. The sparse hair on top of his head grew thicker, more full-bodied. His pube-like facial hair grew straight and even-lengthed, forming a stylish goatee. His skin changed color, from sickly grey to polished bronze. His gut sucked into itself, leaving behind a smooth, rippling six-pack. His broad chest glimmered in the sunlight. He smelt of lilacs.

  When Cooper stood back up, he had been transformed. He was still a half-orc. Hell, he was still recognizable as Cooper. But his presence didn’t make Julian want to constantly gag. He could be on the cover of a men’s magazine for half-orcs.

  “Cooper,” Julian said, barely above a whisper. “You’re beautiful.”

  Cooper flashed a debonair smile, full of pointed, but straightened pearly-white teeth. “Why, thank you.”

  Dave and Tim stared up, gaping.

  Tim snapped out of it first. “Come on, let’s go. We don’t know how long this is going to last. Cooper, you go in first, and you do the talking.”

  Cooper sauntered across the street. Tim and Julian walked behind him, on either side of Dave, holding the edges of the serape together. Those in their way took a step back. Those further away stepped forward. Mouths and eyes hung open, in awe of the mysterious half-orc. He winked and pointed a finger at one woman, who proceeded to collapse in an unconscious orgasm.

  When they reached the door to the shop, it flung open at Cooper’s gentle touch. He sashayed into the shop, his hips swerving, his loincloth rolling in a wavy pattern atop his buttocks, as if the animal it was made from had come back to life.

  The inside of the weapons shop was distinctly more crowded than it had been the last time they were there. Razorback stood behind the counter. It was difficult to read any expression on his reptilian face. Esteban stood with his back to the door, his palms up in an expression of someone trying to sell a story that the customer just wasn’t buying. Three men stood in front of him, one clad from head to toe in black, and the others wearing polished breastplates and pauldrons identical to Esteban’s. Kingsguard.

  Esteban whirled around at the sound of the door opening. “Go away, you!” he cried. His eyes were wide and panicky, like he’d just blown his entire life savings at the craps table, and was trying to make it all back with his last fifty bucks at the slot machines. “This is not a good time! I have urgent business with –”

  The man in black stepped past Esteban. “My name is Alfred Farnsworth.” Taller by half a head than Esteban, his flowing black robes were curiously unstained, though they piled into heaps at his feet. How he managed to wade through the horseshit puddles without so much as a smudge of brown was anyone’s guess. His head was covered by what looked like a black ski mask, except that it exposed his entire face, rather than just his eyes and mouth. A pointed, white beard jutted out of the bottom of the headpiece, and the man’s steely grey eyes felt like they jutted through Julian’s soul when he gave him a passing glance. The best word to describe him was severe. And perhaps the best way to describe the word severe to a person unfamiliar with it would likely be a picture of this man.

  The severe man extended a hand to Cooper. “I am Chief Magistrate of the Seventh Commercial District of Cardinia. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr…”

  “Cooper,” said Cooper, accepting his hand, and even going so far as to cup his left hand over it. “Please, call me Cooper. Your service allows myself, my friends, and all the citizens of this fair city to sleep well at night. For that, I owe you my gratitude.” He took a knee and kissed the magistrate’s hand.

  The magistrate’s face, which had, up until now, had the color and texture of a piece of paper in the desert, began to turn a little pink.“

  “Ahem,” said Julian.

  Cooper stood up.

  The magistrate quickly turned his attention to the two Kingsguard accompanying him. “These are my escorts, Bartleby and Krabb.” The two men stood at attention even more dutifully under Cooper’s scrutiny than they had before the magistrate himself.

  “Kingsguard,” said Cooper. “A fine and noble station. It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, gentlemen.”

  “Cooper,” Tim whispered harshly. “We really need to –”

  “The honor is all ours, sir,” said Bartleby.

  “I have a daughter about your age,” said Krabb. “She isn’t married yet. If you ever wanted to pop by and –”

  “Enough!” shouted Tim and Esteban at the same time. The magistrate furrowed
his brow, staring at each of them in turn while they exchanged glares with each other.

  “Mr. Magistrate, sir,” said Tim. “I believe my friend Cooper has something to tell you about these men.”

  The magistrate raised his bushy white eyebrows.

  “Your honor,” pleaded Esteban. “These men are charlatans and scoundrels. Nothing they say can be trusted. Just look what that one did to this hardworking citizen’s office. Razorback?”

  Razorback hurried to his office door and opened it. The putrid air exploded out of it. Cooper’s shit was still visible on the walls.