The Road to Red Thorn

by Blaine Hicks

  Battle consideration: This goblin is level 37. The laws of Red Thorn prohibit killing under penalty of death.

  “I’m Jema” the goblin said in a much clearer accent than Radley had grown to expect from goblins. “You got friends in high places brother.”

  The innkeeper found a spot on the glass he was washing and spit on it again. “Dinner’s included each morning. We have a stable out back if you need it but there's an extra charge for livery since that wasn’t offered by the king”

  “What type of animals do you board?” Radley asked, wondering if Cinderella might be permitted into the town now that he had the kings blessing.

  Jema’s eyes flicked upward, and the red goblin finally realized who or what he was talking to. His eyes narrowed, then dipped down, noticing Radley’s exposed lower half. Radley’s perch on the high bar stool wasn’t doing the short cloak any favors so Radley crossed his legs self-consciously.

  Jema made an effort to return his attention to the glass but his eyes kept flicking back to Radley’s crossed legs. Finally, the innkeeper collected himself enough to continue the conversation. “What type of animal do you have in mind?

  “I have a tame grendel” Radley answered somewhat proudly, then added “he likes raw meat”

  Jemma nodded easily in response as if Radley’s answer had been, It’s just a wittle kitty cat.

  “Not a problem, not a problem.” The innkeeper said, chuckling at some private joke and added, “The great king keeps a sloar. Anything is easy compared to that.”

  Radley smiled in relief. He already liked Jema; at least as much as Ruckus and much more than Knobbs, despite the innkeeper’s creepy attention to his naked lower half. The innkeeper hung the glass on a hook above the bar as if it was clean and ready to use. “I have a nice room downstairs you’ll like.” The goblin’s eyes flicked involuntarily downward again at Radley’s crossed legs. “It’ll be perfect for you.”

  “Thanks.” Radley said truly grateful. He was so tired. For the third night in a row, he was getting to bed very late and running on fumes. The promise of a comfortable room was music to his ears.

  Jema opened a wooden cabinet on the back wall of the bar and retrieved a ring of iron keys. He also grabbed the bundled grendel hide from off the bar where Ruckus had left it. “Come on” he said as he walked past Radley. “Let's get you settled.”

  Radley followed him and tried to make casual conversation. “Do you mind if I ask you why you have red skin? All the other goblins I’ve seen are green, brown, or tan?”

  Jema stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn to face Radley. “Yes, I do mind. That's a very rude question.” The goblin started walking again and asked, “Do you mind if I ask what happened to your pants?”

  The goblin was probably trying to make a point, but Radley was too tired to care. “I lost them.” he said simply. “I laid down a few days ago wearing pants and when I woke up, no pants.” He didn’t mention that he had also woken up covered in scales and in a strange world.

  “Hmmm,” Jema said, “...that sounds like the start to a pretty bad day”

  “You have no idea.” Radley agreed.

  They headed down a flight of stairs that descended much deeper than a normal basement. At the bottom, the pathway opened into a tall dirt hallway lit by small hand-sized skylights in the ceiling. Radley couldn’t tell what lit them, but it was the middle of the night outside, so it couldn’t be sunlight. They provided enough light that he could walk easily without his thermal vision. The hallway looked like an abandoned train tunnel except for the wooden doors set into the dirt walls on either side.

  The silence between them was beginning to feel awkward and Radley tried to salvage the conversation. “I just meant you seem really different than the other goblins I’ve met. I didn’t mean to offend you”

  Jema laughed and the tension between them seemed to disperse. “It’s ‘cause goblins don't care much about impressing others. You’ll be hard pressed to find one goblin in a hundred that’s put a single point into charisma.

  “And you have?” Radley asked.

  “I have.” The innkeeper confirmed. “As a merchant from a trading clan, I follow a different set of rules than most goblins. It means I get along better when dealing with others, except when there's a war on…then I mostly have to hide...”

  “And where do goblins like Ruckus invest their points?” Radley asked.

  “Ruckus is a foot soldier.” Jema explained, “His points would go to strength, dexterity, or constitution. He probably only has a few natural points in charisma, and it’ll stay that way until he dies. My charisma is 22.” Jema looked back at Radley as if to emphasize how impressive this was. “For a goblin it's pretty good...but some merchants are probably higher. Charisma affects everything, how I speak and how others feel about what I’ve said. It’s also the reason for my red skin. Red is considered beautiful among goblins, but it's also considered vain to discuss. It's not a topic you should bring up in normal conversation.”

  Radley thought he got it. In his world, cosmetic surgery was common even among teenagers. Since most of the surgeries were automated, you could usually afford them on student credits. A new nose could make you prettier, but you didn’t generally compare it to others when they were in ear-shot. You certainly didn’t ask why someone's breasts were so large or why a guy’s jeans bulged in just the right way. But charisma seemed to change more than just appearance. It added to something to someone’s capabilities, not just how they were valued by others but why.

  This seemed counterintuitive to Radley. Actions should determine likability and not the other way around. How could investing a point into charisma change how a goblin behaved? Of course, it made no sense how adding an attribute point into strength made him instantly stronger either. Radley was spacing out again and didn’t realized Jema had stop walking until he ran into the small goblin.

  “We’re here.” Jema said with a laugh, handing Radley an iron key as big as his hand.

  They stood in front of a heavy oak door with the carving of a stylized “J” on in its center. The key turned in the lock with a screech and a clank, but the door opened soundlessly. They were obviously underground, and the room had been carved from the solid dirt like a burrow, then reinforced. Warm air billowed out from the open door like a sauna. It was pitch black inside, so Radley flicked on his thermal vision, but still saw very little. The room had been sealed for a long time, so the air and walls were nearly the same temperature. Without a thermal gradient, the augmented vision didn't work. The entire room appeared a hazy grey. But as the warm air billowed out from the open door, cooler air replaced it and dark borders began appearing on the room’s surfaces until the grey haze began to clear. Radley entered despite the limited vision. The innkeeper handed Radley his bundle, waved a goodbye, and left Radley alone inside the room closing the door behind him.

  CH. 37 Making Friends with Ogres

  In the darkness, Radley was met with an eerie silence that reminded him of the house where his stone mother still stood. He flicked his tongue in annoyance at the thought and brushed it from his mind. He scanned the room and could just make out a bedside table beside a low bed.

  He set down his bundle of supplies and leaned his walking stick against the wall. He was exhausted and his arms burned from the long day of fighting, travel, and carrying around the ridiculously heavy bundle of loot. He had been through so much in such a short time. A small part of him wanted to cry again but the feeling was gone almost as quickly as it had come. Maybe it was a product of his higher willpower or maybe he had finally accepted that this was his life, but he replaced the self-pity with a sense of satisfaction about how far he’d come.

  He tossed the key onto the bed and it landed with a clattering ring. The bed was apparently hard like a stone. He sat down on the edge and was surprised to find that it was also very warm to the touch and sloped downward from the edges like a shallow dish. The warm bed was the source of the warm air that had billow
ed out from the room. Radley didn’t mind it. In fact, the heat was soothing.

  With a quick chant, he cast Rank 1 fire palm and lit his left hand with the radiant flames of elemental magic. The glowing hand illuminated the small room, so he flicked off his thermal vision and looked around. He could see an oil lamp on the bedside table and a small tray that held a flint and steel. He didn’t need them. With his free hand he lifted the lamp shade away and delicately placed a burning finger to the small wick protruding from the brass base.

  The spell was discharged, and the resulting blast of fire cascaded from his hand like pouring water. It burned over the brass fixture and spilled down onto the table. The wick lit quickly as expected but the table was made of a large stone block, so the peripheral flames slowly died away. I really need to learn that light-the-torch-with-a-hand-wave thing that Master Sseviss had used. Radley thought to himself.

  The lamp’s light flared like a little beacon in the dim room. He’d always liked fire, even when it was just a simulated projection on the holotube. His mom used to call watching it a tradition. Every year around Christmas time they would turn the lights down and drink hot chocolate while the projected logs sizzled and popped in the center of their living room. The effect of this lamp had a similar emotional effect. The light from the lamp’s golden flame dance around the room. Dark tendrils of smoke coiled up to a slated vent in the ceiling. Radley reached for the lamp and turned a small knob that lifted the wick and made the flame grow larger. He wasn’t sure how he knew to do that, but it wasn’t the first information that had come to him intuitively. He was getting used to not questioning his abilities in this world. It was no weirder than looting a creature with a touch or lighting his hand on fire with words of power.

  As the lamp flame grew and the dim room brightened, Radley examined his quarters more closely. The decor was a strange hodgepodge of colors. The floor was a tan hard-packed clay, the walls were made from white stone and heavy brown timbers lined the ceiling. The bed was also made of stone and looked like a large tea saucer. It was beautifully carved with the image of wolves being ridden by goblins and chasing what looked like crying children. For some reason it made him smile. Goblins... he thought.

  Radley was tired but as usual had more to do. He was still filthy and needed to check his gear. He didn’t trust Ruckus, and the small goblin had held the bundle without supervision. He unrolled the hide on the bed beside him. Safely hidden inside were his snakeskin, and the sports bottle filled with gold coins, grendel teeth, and fangs. He was relieved to still have everything. He added the bowie knife and goblin coin purse to the loot and rolled the whole bundle tightly together again. There wasn’t a dresser in the room, so he set the bundle on the floor and slid it under the tapered edge of the bed.

  Then his body slowly sagged from exhaustion until he was laying back on the warm concave surface. Despite being filthy, he considered just sleeping. The bed was hard but somehow felt good. The heat penetrated to his bones and soothed him. He sighed contentedly and inspected two flashing icons on his HUD. The first icon was simply three diagonal Zs. He had seen it before but couldn't remember the exact description:

  You are overtired and need to sleep. Your dexterity is decreased by 10% for the duration of the effect. Your agility is decreased by 10% for the duration of the effect.

  Radley nodded in agreement. He was definitely tired. The second icon was the exclamation point which he selected to review his active notifications.

  *You have reached level 2 in “Negotiate”*

  *You have successfully opened negotiations with Ruckus as an alternative to fighting.*

  *You have made the charisma check. Ruckus believes your story. *

  *You have failed the charisma check. Knobbs doesn’t believe your story.*

  *You have failed the constitution check. You are stunned for 2 seconds.*

  *You have reached level 6 in “Elemental Magic”

  *You have killed Muirian Ape - Level 19 for 43,744 XP.*

  That seemed like a lot of XP considering he hadn’t leveled after the fight. His Max HP on his status bar hadn’t increased. No increase meant no level. He thought back. Gaining his second level had only required 900 XP. His 7th level had required 27,875 XP. He tapped his chest and navigated to his Character Profile tab to see how many points were required for Level 11.

  Character Name: Rad Fabulous

  Age: 111

  Race: Naga-Tao

  Alignment: Dark

  Size: Medium

  Class: Elemental Mage

  Rank: Novice

  Profession: None

  Level: 10 (26% to level 11 - 43,744 / 167,250 XP)

  Description: You are a bit taller than average for a Naga-Tao.

  167,250 XP?? …It seemed like Level 11 would have to wait a little longer. He sighed and as he dismissed the interface as a shadow passed by the gap under the door and a heavy knock sounded.

  Radley groaned and asked, “Yes?”

  “I was sent by Jema to give you some pants.” said a distinctly young female voice.

  Radley looked down with some embarrassment. He had once again forgotten that he wore no pants and even though he had no boy parts, he had a butt, and was still exposing himself to the world. He sighed and pulled open the door, keeping his lower half hidden, only to find a creature that did not match the voice he’d heard moments before. A giant feminine creature crouched at his door. She was big, but not like King Toan or even Cinderella. She was a tower of rippling blue-grey muscle. She wore a leather jerkin and knee-length leather skirt; both were roughly hewn and stained. The hallway outside was much taller than Radley’s door and couldn’t have entered inside. She was only able to see him by dropping down to her hands and knees and peering in from above. Radley guessed she was probably more than eight feet tall and his wooden door was only five. In his surprise, Radley had stepped backwards, letting the door swing wide open.

  “Wow.” she said “They weren’t joking. You’re just walking around with no pants on like it's your own personal pervert party.” She threw him a pair of pants that seemed to be made out of burlap. They hit with the force of a well-placed kickball. It was all Radley could do to keep his balance under the impact. The pants were not only clean but folded. The giant creature grunted “Wear the pants sicko.”

  Radley selected his flashing magnifying glass icon and identified her.

  Emi Lue - Level 2

  Ogre Warrior

  Alignment: Dark

  Size: Large

  Health 103/103

  Ogres are dark aligned creatures and the largest playable race on Earth. They are damaged by direct sunlight but have a natural resistance to many types of magic. Ogres are slow, with low racial intelligence and charisma. Despite these weaknesses, they are powerful agents of destruction. Ogres don’t often care where they are, just as long as there is something to break. Ogres have the innate skills Forced Entry and Black Vision.

  Battle consideration: The laws of Red Thorn prohibit killing under penalty of death.

  Cinderella was tough, and for a wild creature had some amazing attributes. He was scary but at almost 50 levels above Radley, he had earned it. Emi Lue was level 2 and already a specimen of power. Radley couldn’t imagine facing something like her on equal terms. The giant blue ogre stood to leave, hunching slightly so she wouldn’t bump the hallway’s ceiling. On an impulse, Radley called after her, “Emi, wait!” This got her attention and she turned back with a puzzled look on her face. “How do you know my name?” she asked.

  Radley thought quickly. “Oh. um...Jema told me you might be by to drop these off” he said, indicating toward the pants. “Anyway, thanks.” Radley supposed that his high naga intelligence was responsible for his clear memory and easy lies but just like with Jema’s charisma, it disturbed him that his capabilities were being directly defined by his attribute stats. Was he losing his true self in this world every time he invested new points? Had he already lost himself? His attention returned
and he realized that Emi had bought the story and was still waiting to see if he needed something else.

  “Is there somewhere I could get a bath around here?” Radley asked deciding to ignore his impulse to ask what he’d really been thinking.

  The request puzzled her more than the use of her name, but she politely told him that there was a public bath on the third floor and gave him the directions to get there. She turned to leave but stopped a second time and said “Sorry I called you a pervert but it’s really weird to run around with no pants on. I guess you’re kinda down on your luck? Just let me know if you need anything else and I'll try to help you out.”

  ***

  It was nearly 2 am when Radley went back upstairs to get cleaned up. The third floor of the tavern was mostly used for storage. A hallway ran the length of it with rooms that branched off to the left and right. The bath was at the end of the hallway and Radley had to navigate around boxes and discarded furniture to find it. When he arrived, he realized immediately the reason for Emi’s surprised expression. It wasn’t a place used often. In fact, Radley had to push aside a fine spider web that barred entrance to the room like police caution tape.

  The bathing basin was more like a small swimming pool than a bathtub and Radley assumed it was used both ways. The room had a relatively large window that provided some light. This amused Radley because the goblins had such a prudish distaste for naked creatures but had still put a big window in the bath house. The torches and lamps from the outer street of Red Thorn shone into the room, projecting orange and yellow patterns on the floor and wall. The water was hazy but relatively clean with nothing floating on top or settled to the bottom.

  Besides his filthy cloak, Radley had only brought with him the folded pants and his room key. He didn’t want to wear the pants until he was clean or else it would have defeated the point of washing. He planned to return the cloak or maybe burn it after the bath. Hopefully, neither option would require him to touch it again.