4d6 (Caverns and Creatures)

by Robert Bevan

  Shit! Dave killed their mom. Why were they blaming Julian? Unless they thought he’d orchestrated the whole thing. Shit!

  Julian spotted his bag on the ground next to the horse and made a mad dash for it. As he got close, Flargarf, still flicking the horse’s reins and kicking its sides, drew one of his long machetes. His terrified eyes were focused on a point behind Julian.

  One of the harpies screeched behind him. She sounded pissed.

  Julian scooped up his bag and ran around to the other side of the horse, hoping that Flargarf could keep her busy while he opened up a scroll tube.

  He hadn’t yet gotten around to labeling his scroll tubes, so he might have to get creative. As he unscrewed the cap, he hoped for a Magic Missile or a Web, or really anything but a Ventriloquism. He unrolled the parchment inside and read the name of the spell.

  Animate Rope

  Not Ventriloquism, but almost as useless in a fight.

  The harpy howled. Julian looked up from his scroll. Matilda was hovering above Flargarf, bleeding from a fresh cut in her left tit. In a mad rage, she grabbed him by both ears and shoved her nicotine-yellow thumbnails into his eyes.

  Julian winced as Flargarf’s machete fell out of his hand and onto the blood-spattered ground. He had a terrible, terrible idea. He licked his lips as he looked over the spell, then read the incantation aloud.

  “Rope! Grab!”

  The horse’s lead rope wrapped itself tightly around Matilda’s scaly right leg, between calf and talon.

  Sorry, horse. “Run!” cried Julian. The horse bolted off so fast that Flargarf would almost certainly have fallen off if Matilda hadn’t had such a firm grip on his eye sockets.

  Matilda got in a few desperate (but ultimately futile) wing flaps, before she, Flargarf, and Baxter (Julian decided the horse should have a name before he died) sailed off the edge of the cliff together.

  Lucinda screeched helplessly as her sister fell to her death, then locked her eyes on Julian.

  Cooper, Dave, Tim, and even Raggart took defensive positions in front of Julian.

  “Hurry, sorcerer,” said Raggart. “Find another spell. The rest of you, defend him.” He passed one of his own machetes to Cooper, and his father’s dagger to Tim. Dave picked up Flargarf’s machete, still soaked in tit-blood, off the ground. There were now four of them, not counting Julian, against one harpy. If she moved in to attack, they stood a pretty good chance.

  Julian opened up another scroll tube.

  Mage Hand

  Shit. There wasn’t much he could think to do with that one. Hopefully, the others could hold her at bay while he found a better –

  Lucinda, hovering above them all, began to sing again. Julian felt a flutter in his heart. His Willpower was being tested.

  Julian dropped his bag and covered his ears. “It’s just a song. It’s just a song.” But his elven ears were far too sensitive, and the harpy’s music saturated the air around him.

  “Sir,” said Ravenus, looking up at Julian from on the ground. “Are you feeling all right?”

  That’s a good bird, Ravenus. Keep distracting me. “Yeah, great. You?”

  “I’m beginning to feel a bit woozy, sir.”

  Julian knew what he was talking about. His own blood was beginning to flow out of his head and into his dick. He was losing the battle.

  “This is, like, my new favorite song,” said Tim.

  Damn. She got Tim again.

  “It moves my heart,” said Dave.

  “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” said Cooper. The long, soft fart that wafted out only seemed to compliment the melody.

  “It’s beauty is only matched by your own,” said Raggart.

  Julian could resist no longer. He looked up.

  Lucinda was radiant in her nakedness, hovering above them like a winged goddess, her sweet breath caressing her vocal cords like gentle fingers dancing over the strings of a harp.

  “I need you,” Julian heard himself say, as if in a lucid dream.

  Lucinda smiled at him as she slowly descended toward him, still singing her beautiful song.

  The others crowded near him, but Lucinda waved them all back. Julian’s heart beat harder, knowing she wanted him, and only him.

  When she reached the ground, she ran a fingernail down Julian’s cheek. It felt like the gentlest thing ever, but at the same time he was aware that she’d drawn blood. He didn’t care. He’d give her all the blood he had and more.

  Julian inhaled deeply to calm his nerves. “I would be honored if you would take my...”

  Lucinda nodded for him to continue.

  “... my member, and wear it around your neck so that you may never forget me. I want to bleed until my spirit parts from my body, riding to the next life on the sound of your voice.”

  Lucinda smiled and held up a small, slightly rusted, hooked knife.

  Julian’s penis grew even harder. He couldn’t wait. “Take my testicles, too. Everything that makes me a man now belongs to you.”

  “And if you have any use for my cloaca,” said Ravenus, “by all means, have at it.”

  Lucinda gestured for Julian to lift up his robes.

  Julian hurried to comply. He couldn’t wait for the bite of rusty steel against his junk. “Your song shall transport me between worlds.”

  “This Justin Bieber bullshit?” said Tim, from behind Lucinda. “Please.”

  What an odd, roundabout compliment... Why would he...?

  A look of sudden confusion showed on Lucinda’s face as well.

  “I made my Saving Throw, bitch. Sneak Attack!”

  Before Julian knew what was happening, Lucinda hit a note that was wildly off-key. Julian dropped to his knees, shutting his eyes and clapping his hands over his ears. Certainly not the caliber of singing a guy would want to lose his dick over.

  When Julian opened his eyes again, Lucinda was hideous. But she always had been, even when I... Why did I think she... Was I just about to let her...

  Lucinda spun around to rake her claws across Tim’s face. She drew some blood, but it didn’t look half as bad as the bleeding dagger wound he’d left in her back.

  Cooper, Dave, and Raggart were still coming out of their enchantment when Lucinda started flapping her wings again.

  Julian knew he wasn’t heavy enough to weigh her down, but he couldn’t risk letting her escape to start singing again. He lunged at her and wrapped his hands around one of her reptilian chicken legs.

  She tore through his sleeve with her free talon, into his forearm. Julian was riding on enough adrenaline such that the pain didn’t yet register, but he could see the blood soaking through his shirt. He wouldn’t be able to withstand many of those before letting go.

  Holding firm with his good arm, he grabbed at her other ankle with his injured arm. This kept him safe from her talons, but it did little to improve his lack of contact with the ground.

  Tim made an impressive jump to grab at Julian’s foot, but came up short, swiping the air just below him.

  “I’m coming for you, sir!” said Ravenus, rocketing in a trajectory that would intersect with Lucinda’s face.

  “No, Ravenus!” said Julian. “Back off. She’s too dangerous for you to handle. I’ve got this.” With little regard for how Ravenus might take it, he then shouted, “Cooper!”

  Cooper shook his big, meaty head and looked from side to side.

  “Up here!”

  Cooper looked up. “Julian?”

  It didn’t matter. As high as they’d flown, Cooper appeared about as big as Tim. Julian was on his own.

  He wished he hadn’t blown through all his spells already. His bag, with all of his backup scrolls, was barely visible from this high up.

  Hold on... He hadn’t blown through all his spells. Only the first-level ones. Were there any 0-level spells that would be of any use? The damage-inflicting spells wouldn’t inflict enough damage to be worth it. What did that leave?

  Read Magic. No.

/>   Detect Magic. No.

  Dancing Lights. No.

  Ghost Sound. No.

  Touch of Fatigue. No... Wait a minute... Yes. Hell yes!

  “Touch of Fatigue!”

  A trickle of magic flowed out of Julian’s hands into Lucinda’s legs. She started to screech an objection, but it quickly morphed into a yawn. Her wing flaps became more labored, and they began to descend.

  When they were low enough so that Julian could let go, he held on even tighter. Her scaly legs were getting slippery with sweat, but he couldn’t risk letting her go. Fortunately, she was panting too hard to be able to sing.

  Finally, they were low enough for Cooper to grab Julian by the leg and pull them down to the ground.

  When Cooper grabbed Lucinda by the throat, Julian let go of her legs.

  She weakly attempted to scratch and claw at Cooper, but his outstretched arm was longer than hers were.

  “What should I do with her?” asked Cooper.

  “Kill her!” said Tim, albeit from a safe distance.

  Cooper frowned.

  Dave seemed to sense Cooper’s moral quandary. “At least punch her unconscious so we can tie her up.”

  “But she’s a girl.”

  “Dude, she was going to cut your dick off!”

  “It doesn’t feel right to punch a girl in the face.”

  The face in question was turning blue through its brown, crusty exterior as both of Lucinda’s hands were trying in vain to pry her neck loose from Cooper’s grip.

  “You’re strangling her to death right now,” said Dave. “I don’t know what your own code of chivalry says, but I can’t see how straight up murder is preferable to just knocking the bitch out.

  Cooper looked to Julian. Julian nodded.

  “Okay.” Cooper punched Lucinda in the face until her arms went limp.

  “It’s just subdual damage,” said Dave. “She’ll get those Hit Points back when she wakes up.”

  “We should stuff her mouth with something,” said Tim. “Just in case she wakes up and starts singing before we’re far enough away. Cooper, tear me off a piece of your loincloth.”

  “Which piece?”

  “The piece with the most shit caked into it.”

  Cooper ripped off a piece of loincloth which had been covering his ass, leaving one cheek exposed to the elements. The lesion-marred fur suggested that whatever animal it had come from was only slightly better off in life than it was now in death, covered in half-orc shit.

  Tim pulled his shirtsleeves up over his hands before stuffing the rolled up ball of hide into the harpy’s mouth. When it was in as deep as he could get it, he pulled a rope out of Julian’s bag and tied her arms behind her around a thick tree.

  “Are you quite finished with your shameful display of compassion?” asked Raggart.

  Tim shrugged. “Pretty much. Now, are we anywhere near the coast, or was that whole story bullshit?”

  “Hand over my father’s dagger, halfling.”

  “Ha ha,” said Tim. “How about no.”

  “Come on,” said Julian. “It belonged to his father.”

  “Fuck his father. Those assholes probably ate the old bastard anyway.”

  “It is our custom,” said Raggart. “It matters not. I shall take back my father’s dagger once I have destroyed you all.” He held up his long machete. “Prepare to die.”

  Julian backed up. “Hold on, man. You can’t be serious. After all we’ve just been through?”

  “I must avenge my fallen comrades, murdered by your sorcery.”

  “We were only defending ourselves,” said Julian. “Be reasonable about this. We outnumber you four to one. Surely we’ve all seen enough death for one day.”

  “You won’t talk your way out of this one, elf. Today is the day you die.”

  “Fuck this,” said Tim. “Dave?”

  Dave nodded. “I hold thee.”

  Raggart froze as still as a statue, his eyes boiling with impotent rage. Cooper started dragging his body toward another tree.

  “No,” said Julian. “We should tie them to each other.”

  “Why?” asked Dave.

  “If we just tie them both to trees, the first one to get free will just murder the other one.”

  Tim shrugged. “And we should give a fuck because...”

  “If they’re tied to one another, they’ll have to work as a team to get free. Maybe through working together, they’ll earn each other’s respect, and go on to form a lasting friendship.”

  Dave snorted. “You can’t possibly still be this naive. They’ll start beating the shit out of each other as soon as they get a free hand.”

  “Then it’ll be as fair a fight as we can grant each of them. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  The End.

  The Unwashed Asses

  (Original Publication Date: April 13, 2016)

  Cooper’s asshole itched something fierce. It was too deep an itch to scratch through the loincloth. He had to get his claws right up in there to properly meet the demand, but he couldn’t do that while Dave was walking behind him. And he couldn’t walk slower than Dave without everyone wondering what was wrong with him. There was only one option.

  “Holy shit!” shouted Cooper, doing his best to look amazed as he peered ahead of the group into the forest. “It’s El Dorito!” With that, he bolted forward as fast as his massive half-orc legs would carry him.

  “Cooper, wait!” cried Tim.

  “El Dorito?” asked Julian.

  Neither of them would be able to keep up with Cooper’s Base Movement Speed of 40, or even more due to him running down the side of a hill.

  Cooper pounded the forest floor, ducking under branches and weaving around tree trunks until he thought he had enough of a lead to get a good scratch in, and maybe a couple soothing bonus scratches. He looked back to see if anyone was tailing him. The coast was clear. Just to be safe, he’d put a little more distance between himself and –

  “Son of a bitch!” The pain in Cooper’s right ear pulsed in his head as he lay on the ground.

  He looked up at a pine branch hanging just about ear-height, missing a small scrap of bark and stained with a bit of dark red blood. His blood. “Fuck you, tree.”

  “Cooper?” Julian called out. “Are you okay?” He was still a pretty good distance away, but he must have heard Cooper swearing with his freakishly long elf ears.

  As hard as his head was throbbing, his asshole itched even worse. Now was the time.

  He stood up and squatted for optimal reach, lifted the back of his loincloth with his left hand, and plunged the clawed fingers of his right hand into his hole like a sarlacc toothbrush.

  The relief was instant and glorious.

  “Unnnnggggg,” Cooper moaned. “Sooo worth it.”

  He blissfully scratched his ass until it was causing more pain than relief. Removing his hand, he found he was clutching a fistful of his own shit. When the hell had he last eaten corn?

  “Shit, that’s disgusting.” That last fart had been a wet one, but he didn’t think he’d actually –

  A bird cawed loudly behind him.

  Cooper turned around quickly, but kept his shit-filled hand behind his back. Ravenus was sitting on the tree branch that had assaulted him.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” said Cooper, despite knowing that the bird couldn’t understand him. It didn’t matter. He already knew the answer to the question. Julian had sent Ravenus after him.

  Ravenus lifted his wings and squawked incomprehensibly.

  “What’s that?” said Cooper. “You don’t understand me? Well maybe you’ll understand this.” He flung his handful of shit in Ravenus’s direction, catching him squarely in the chest and face.

  Ravenus fell off the branch and writhed on the ground, trying to flap away the greenish-brown paste gluing his feathers together.

  “Oh shit, man. I’m sorry,” said Cooper. “I didn’t expect it to actually hit you that... directly.
”

  “Ravenus!” Julian called out. He was closer now. “What’s wrong?”

  Fuck! Julian had that goddamn empathic link with Ravenus. He must have sensed the bird’s reaction to suddenly being covered in half-orc shit.

  Cooper looked down at the shit on his hand. He had to get rid of the evidence. He wrapped his hand around the smooth grey trunk of a young tree and rubbed up and down vigorously.

  “Here they are,” said Tim, jogging out from behind some undergrowth. “Cooper, are you jerking off that tree?”

  The choice between making up a plausible lie and accepting the one that was just handed to him was no choice at all.

  “Um... yes.”

  Tim closed his eyes and put his fingertips to his temples. “Why?”

  Shit. Cooper hadn’t anticipated this thorough an interrogation. Think fast. “You ever hear of a little place called Canada? This is how they make maple syrup.”

  “Ravenus!” cried Julian, kneeling over his bird, but stopping short of touching him. “What happened to you?”

  Ravenus squawked and cawed.

  “Don’t listen to him,” said Cooper. “He’s a goddamn liar!”

  Julian turned back to look at Cooper. “All he said was that he spotted a pool of clean water on his way here that he could wash himself off in.”

  Shit. No turning back now. “And I’m telling you that’s a load of horseshit.”

  Julian ignored him, scraping some of the bigger gobs of shit off Ravenus’s feathers with a twig.

  Tim frowned at the greenish-brown section of tree trunk, then up at Cooper. “Maybe a bath isn’t such a bad idea.”

  The little fucker must be using his Sense Motive skill. He could see right through the fortress of deceit Cooper had constructed around himself.

  Cooper frowned. “You can’t wash away a Charisma score of 4.”

  “Well maybe you could just wash your ass.”

  “You guys do what you want,” said Julian. “But Ravenus needs a bath.” He looked down at his bird. “Can you lead us to the pool?”

  Ravenus whistled and chirped.

  Julian stepped back and held one side of his serape up over his face Dracula-style. “He says we should shield ourselves. When he starts flapping, the shit will probably spray in every direction.