3d6 (Caverns and Creatures)

by Robert Bevan

  Tim grinned. “Don’t worry, Dave. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Tim pulled a green silk pouch out from his vest pocket and shook it. It sounded heavy with coins. “I found this in the bedroom closet. Second time today I’ve robbed those doppelfucks. I say we hit up that fancy tavern on the way back to the Whore’s Head Inn. Have ourselves some classy drinks, in loving memory of our dearly departing friends.”

  Julian wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of celebrating the deaths of two people who were currently burning to death, but he was more than ready for a drink.

  “How much is in there?” asked Cooper.

  “Dunno,” said Tim. “I haven’t had time to count it. But it might even be enough for us to deck ourselves out with some shiny new weapons.”

  “Or we could use it responsibly,” said Dave. “Put it toward magical research? Try to figure out a way back home?”

  “We can talk about it,” said Tim. “Let’s just get to that tavern, settle into a round of drinks, and see how much gold we’re talking about first, huh?”

  “Agreed,” everyone said simultaneously.

  Julian shouted skyward, “Ravenus!”

  *

  As they approached Cardinia’s city walls, the sinking sun underlit orange clouds against a lavender sky. With just a little bit of searching, they were able to locate the tavern they had drunk at that morning. It was much busier now, with only a couple empty tables left. Many of the patrons were uniformed city watchmen, and there were even a few Kingsguard.

  Dave led the way inside, strutting up to the bar like he was a soldier returning home after personally punching Hitler in the dick. “Why hello there, good sir. We have returned!”

  The barman turned around, gawking down at Dave with an expression of shock and bemusement. He rang a loud bell which hung above the bar. “It’s them!” he said once he had the establishment’s undivided attention. “These are the folks I was telling you all about!”

  Several city watchmen stood up from their tables, forming a perimeter around the group. Two Kingsguard stood at attention in the doorway, covering their only hope at an exit. Something was definitely not right.

  Dave waved a hand dismissively. “Oh please. You’re really making too big a deal out of this.”

  “Too big a deal?” shouted the barman. “One of your lot clubbed me over the head, tied me up, stole my clothes, and then bled all over my bar! When I come to, I find two bottles of my finest liquor has been stolen, not to mention you didn’t pay your tab! Now which part of that do you find I’m making too big a deal of?”

  Dave looked like he’d just been stabbed in the soul. He reached his left arm back. “Tim! Money!”

  “How much do you –”

  “NOW!”

  Tim grudgingly handed over the whole bag of coins.

  Dave walked up to the bar, carefully placing the bag between himself and the barman. “Are you absolutely certain we’re the men you’re looking for?”

  The barman opened the bag. Looking inside, his eyes went as wide as golf balls. “Sweet succubus!”

  “Would you like us to escort you to the courthouse now,” said one of the city watchmen, “so that you can press formal charges? Or shall we just throw them in a holding cell until you’re ready.”

  “I’m terribly sorry, gentlemen,” said the barman. “'Twas a false alarm.”

  “Are you quite sure, sir? They match your descriptions perfectly, right down to the curious band of leopard fur growing on the dwarf’s forearm.”

  “I swear by the gods I’ve never seen these gentlemen before. Sorry for your troubles.” He tossed the city watchman a coin from the bag. At first glance, it appeared silver, but shinier.

  The watchman held the coin up to the light, then stared at the barman. “That’s right generous of you, sir. Thank you very much!”

  When all of the guards and soldiers took their seats, the barman addressed Dave. “I knew you was good lads! Now what’ll you have to drink?”

  Dave hung his head. “Three beers and a bottle of your cheapest stonepiss.”

  The End.

  Naga Please

  (Original Publication Date: October 3, 2014)

  Dave leaned back against his tree and basked in sunlight and contentment. This was what life was about. Being outside with your friends, drinking and fishing. Sure, they hadn’t caught so much as a single fish in the four hours they’d been out here, but that wasn’t the point. The pine-scented breeze was alive with the chatter of squirrels and the distant rush of the waterfall which fed this elevated lake. Camaraderie and nature. Here or in the real world, these were the things Dave valued most.

  “This fucking sucks,” said Tim. “What’s wrong with these stupid fish?”

  “Maybe fish in this world aren’t partial to worms?” suggested Julian.

  “We bought them at a goddamn bait shop.” Tim reeled in his line. The rods and reels Gorgonzola had put together at the Whore’s Head were bigger and clunkier than their real world counterparts, but they worked surprisingly well. When Tim’s hook broke the surface, it was empty.

  Cooper snorted. “Maybe the fish are smarter than you give them credit for.”

  “They’re fucking fish,” said Tim. “They have an Intelligence score of 1. That’s dumber than you.”

  “Hey,” said Cooper. “If you’re so hungry, why don’t you eat my ass?”

  “Fishing takes patience,” said Dave. “If you didn’t reel your line in every five minutes you just might –” Feeling a tug on his line, he sat bolt upright. “See? See what I told you? This is it!”

  Tim folded his little arms. “Ten bucks says it’s another boot.”

  Dave let go of the reel. Whatever was on the other end of his line gave it a good tug. “I’ll take that action. You ever see a boot do that?” He grabbed the reel and started winding up the line.

  The rod stayed bent as Dave frantically reeled, ignoring the bead of sweat that tickled the tip of his nose. He supposed Tim was right to be skeptical. They had hooked a conspicuous amount of junk from the lake floor. Three boots, none of which matched, two rusted helmets, a canteen, and even a broken short sword. But whatever he had this time was alive and fighting for its life. A late breakfast was mere minutes away.

  “There it is!” cried Tim, licking his lips and pointing at the spot where Dave’s line broke the surface of the water.

  Dave had never seen anyone so eager to part with ten dollars he didn’t have. His stomach grumbled as he found what Tim had spotted. Sure enough, it was shiny and scaly.

  Cooper balled up his fists. “Reel, Dave! Reel like a motherfucker!”

  Dave reeled as fast as his thick, stubby arms would allow. He yanked his prize out of the water. It swung toward him. He closed his eyes as it slapped him in the face. The feeling was suspiciously metallic.

  “Well shit,” said Julian.

  Dave opened his eyes. Before him, water drained out of the fingers of a scale mail gloved gauntlet. His stomach voiced its disappointment.

  Tim, his arms still folded, looked smugly at Dave. For Tim, apparently, spiteful satisfaction was more nourishing than food.

  “It’s not a boot,” said Dave. “You still owe me ten bucks.”

  “Well done,” said Ravenus, flapping down from a branch of a nearby pine tree. “There’s not, by any chance, still a hand in there, is there?”

  Dave unhooked the gauntlet and turned it over. Nothing but water spilled out. He tossed it onto the pile of junk they’d caught. “I could have sworn I felt a tug.”

  Julian skipped a rock on the surface of the lake. “That was just drag. It was a glove full of water. It was bound to feel heavier than it was.”

  “It just doesn’t make sense,” said Dave. “Cooper caught a sword. How is that even possible? I could put a sword into a bucket of water and try all day to pull it up with a hook, and I’d come up empty.”

  About fifty yards away, a
fish jumped out of the water.

  Cooper picked up a baseball-sized rock and hurled it into the lake. “Fuck you, you scaly bastard!”

  “I’m done,” said Tim. “I say we pack up our shit and chalk it up to another day of failure.”

  “Come on,” said Dave. “There’s still plenty of daylight, and we’ve still got half a box of worms left.”

  Tim stomped up to Dave and poked him in the breastplate. “If we don’t get moving in the next five minutes, I’m going to eat those fucking worms.”

  Julian rested his slender hand on Dave’s right pauldron. “We did our best. It’s time to call it a day.”

  In a rare moment of bleak desperation, Dave turned beseechingly to Cooper. Cooper farted.

  Dave considered threatening to stay behind and keep fishing alone, but they’d almost certainly call his bluff.

  “Fine,” he said, extra glumly. “Let’s go.”

  Tim led the way back down along the stream that they had followed to get up to the lake. Sure-footed, nimble, and eager to get back to the Whore’s Head Inn, he even managed to outpace Cooper’s natural Base 40 Movement Speed.

  Julian lagged behind with Dave, tossing what worms were left in the box up to Ravenus, who caught them in the air, while Cooper and Tim disappeared into the forest ahead of them.

  “Do you think we’ll ever get back home?” asked Dave.

  “Sure,” said Julian. “Like you said, there’s plenty of daylight left, and it’s always quicker going down than it is going up.”

  “I meant real home. In our real bodies.”

  “Oh.” Julian frowned. “I don’t know. I try not to think about it.” He faked a cheerful grin. “Besides, being an elf’s not so bad.”

  Dave kicked a rock into the stream. “Being a dwarf kind of sucks.”

  “Come on, ” said Julian. “Let's catch up to Cooper and Tim before they get themselves –”

  “There they are!” said Cooper, only his voice didn’t sound like it was coming from the right direction. It sounded more like it was coming from –

  “Dave! Julian!” Tim called out. “Up here!” He and Cooper were suspended upside-down, fifty feet in the air.

  Julian stepped off the path, looking up at them. “How the hell did you get up –”

  “Julian!” cried Tim. “No!”

  Pop. Snap. Thwang. Swoosh.

  Julian’s left foot rocketed into the air, followed by the rest of him. “Shiiiiiiiit!”

  “Sir!” cried Ravenus as Julian flew past him.

  “Fuck,” said Cooper. “Our lives are in Dave’s hands.”

  “Dave!” said Tim. “Don’t move!”

  Dave was already way ahead of him in that regard. He had no intention of taking a single step in any direction. “What should I do?”

  Tim looked at the nearest trees surrounding him. Then he looked up at the rope he was suspended from. “I think we’re all hanging from the same tree,” he called down to Dave. “Our best option is probably for you to chop it down.”

  “With what?” asked Dave. “I use a mace. What am I supposed to do? Bludgeon a goddamn tree until it – JESUS CHRIST!” He jumped out of the way a split second before Cooper’s greataxe could chop him in half.

  “My bad!” Cooper called down. “Hurry up and chop us down. I gotta take a piss, and I don’t want it running up in my face.”

  “Watch where you step!” said Tim.

  Tim was the rogue. If he hadn’t spotted the snares, Dave didn’t stand a chance. The ground between him and the ground was covered in sticks and dead leaves, but appeared to be clear of ropes. He took a cautious step toward the axe.

  Crack.

  The axe disappeared. Dave jerked his head to the right to discover the blade of the axe embedded in a tree trunk. He looked back to where the axe had been to see what had flung it away. What he saw was whip-like, but much thicker, and covered in shiny, black scales. His eyes followed it around the back of a tree, then up the tree trunk.

  “Hello,” said a bald, human-ish head atop a snake’s body. The skin of its face was as jet-black as the scales on its body. When it smiled at Dave, its forked tongue darted out between white, needle-like teeth.

  Dave felt whatever courage he might have had run down his inner thigh. As he took a step backward, the snake-like monster slithered out from behind the tree. Its chest was broad where human pectoral muscles would be, but it had no arms. In their place was a great flattened hood, like a cobra’s.

  “Sami!” hissed a female serpentine voice.

  The creature facing Dave blinked, translucent lids sliding sideways across its eyes. It stopped smiling. “Over here.”

  A second creature slithered out from behind some underbrush. This one was female, Dave guessed by its voice and smooth, nipple-less black breasts and full lips. She reminded Dave of Angelina Jolie, if Angelina Jolie was a black, bald, half-reptilian vampire.

  “Shit,” said Cooper from above. “Nagas.”

  “Don’t call them that!” said Julian. “We’re in enough trouble as it is!”

  “Ow! What the fuck did you hit me for?”

  Dave and the two creatures looked up. Cooper and Julian were swinging from their ropes, Cooper trying to punch Julian, and Julian trying to hit Cooper again with his quarterstaff.

  “What did you go and set the snares again for, Sami?” asked the female creature. “We haven’t even finished the group we caught last week.”

  “I grow tired of dwarf,” said Sami. He looked at Dave. “No offenssse.”

  Dave swallowed. “None taken.”

  Sami looked up at his captives. “This is quite the diverssse group.”

  “Oh stop with the hissing,” said the female. “Can’t you see you’re scaring this poor dwarf half to death?” She slithered over to the tree Dave was meant to chop down and reached her tail up over her head, into its lower branches. Cooper, Julian, and Tim began to descend slowly on their ropes.

  “My wife, Trista,” Sami said to Dave. “Motherhood has softened her heart.”

  “Congratulations?” said Dave.

  “Dude,” said Cooper as he, Julian, and Tim were being lowered to the ground. “You’re not getting this. It’s not their word. They’re actually called nagas. They’re based on ancient Hindu mythology or some shit.”

  Trista looked curiously at Julian, but addressed Cooper. “What does your elf friend have against nagas?”

  “I’ve got nothing against… your kind,” said Julian. Touching ground, he loosened his rope and stepped out of it. “I’m just not comfortable using that word. It sounds too much like… Can’t I just call you Scary Snake Monster Lady or something?”

  “Why certainly,” said Trista.

  Julian sighed and smiled. “Okay then.”

  “If you want those to be the last words you ever say.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why don’t you just call me Trista?”

  Julian laughed nervously. “Trista it is.”

  “And this is my mate, Sami.”

  Sami grinned at Julian. “You can call me Scary Snake Monster if you want.”

  Trista brushed aside some strategically placed greenery with her tail to reveal a small cave entrance. “Come on inside and see the naglets.”

  Julian frowned. “You really call them that?”

  If Trista heard him, she ignored him. She slithered toward her cave.

  “Dude,” Tim whispered to Julian. “If you’re going to turn off your Diplomacy skill, maybe you should just shut the fuck up.”

  Dave caught Tim scanning the scene for an escape route and Cooper sizing up Sami. Sami’s grin grew wider, as if he knew exactly what the both of them were thinking and was hoping one of them would try something.

  Dave tried hard to remember everything he knew about nagas from playing Caverns and Creatures at home. They didn’t use them that often in the game, though, because their characters seldom survived to a high enough level to face one. Come to think of it, that was probably all
of the information he needed.

  “Let’s go, Coop,” said Dave.

  Cooper broke his gaze from Sami. “Huh?”

  “Let’s go see the naglets.” He spoke with innuendo heavy in his tone.

  “Yeah, alright.”

  Tim nodded and reluctantly followed.

  “I’d offer you something to eat,” said Trista when they approached the entrance to the cave. “But I’m afraid all we have is dwarf.” Sounds of gnawing and sucking echoed out from the darkness behind her.

  “Is it cooked?” asked Tim.

  Dave glared at him. “Tim!”

  “I’m fucking starving,” said Tim. “And it’s only technically cannibalism for you.”

  “You are too good for my mate’s hospitality?” Sami asked Dave. Dave knew his tone well. He was a bully, just looking for any excuse. The only hope any of them had was Julian’s Diplomacy skill, and he was off to a piss poor start with that.

  “Sami!” Trista snapped. “They have a different culture than ours.” She picked up a pebble with the end of her tail and held it to her lips and whispered the word, “Light.” The pebble glowed with soft, white luminescence.

  They’re spellcasters, Dave thought to himself. A more specific reason not to fuck with them.

  “I’m sorry, little halfling,” said Trista. “We nagas eat our meat raw.” She laid the pebble on the ground and slithered to the left, revealing six tiny nagas – each about a foot and a half long – gnawing and tearing the flesh off a short, thick leg.

  Dave took a step back and bumped into Sami, who he hadn’t realized was standing right behind him.

  Sami placed the end of his leathery tail on Dave’s left shoulder and leaned his head over his right. “They grow up so fast.”

  Trista tapped the tip of her tail on the nearest naglet’s head. “This is Tami.”

  Tami hissed and snapped at her mother’s tail.

  Trista continued. “And that’s Suna, Tasha, Bolo, Mavi, and Poe.”

  Dave couldn’t wrench his gaze away from the half-devoured dwarf leg. He forced out the words, “They’re adorable.”