The Good Guys Chronicles Box Set

by Eric Ugland

  “You two are here for the gem, right?” I asked.

  Red sniffed, disdainfully, but Blue nodded.

  “And I have a feeling that most days, your armies are evenly matched. Most often end in a draw, right?”

  “Let us say that perhaps we do,” Blue said.

  “What is the gem for?” I asked. “Why do you fight for it?”

  “We are able to trade it for goods,” Blue said. “For food and materials.”

  “And how often does it regrow?”

  “The jewel will return on the morrow.”

  “So you guys fight every day?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why don’t you just trade who gets the gem day by day?”

  They looked at me like I’d just said something extremely offensive about their mothers. While letting a noxious fart rip.

  “Never mind, I get it,” I said quickly. “The fight is important. But if you’re so evenly matched, it’s pretty much just a little bit of luck battle to battle determining the victor, yes?”

  Neither said anything, but their silence was enough of an answer for me.

  “Okay then, here we go. You,” I pointed to Blue, “pick your champion, and you,” Red, “pick yours. I fight them both. Whomever wins gets the jewel.”

  “Why would we do that?” Red asked. “We could just kill you now.”

  “Sure, you could,” I said, this time taking a moment to check my nails out. They were disgusting. “But you know I’d put up a fight. You know I can swing this axe here. You know I’ve got two people with bows, and some backup. The six of us might not win against you, but we will — and I can guarantee this — we will fuck you up mightily before we go down. And after we put a dent in your army, my boy in Blue here will have enough of an advantage to crush you today. And if he crushes you today and gets that gem, he’ll be stronger tomorrow. So how long are you going to be able to last getting the shit kicked out of you by Blue before your Red clan is no more?”

  Silence. Thoughtful silence though.

  “But, if you each throw out a champion,” I said, really hoping I was about to play a big enough trump card, “at worst you only lose a single fighter. At best, you win the gem without losing anything at all.”

  Blue smiled. “I happen to like option, what did you call it, C?”

  “Yeah, C.”

  “Option C.”

  “That’s two votes,” I said. “I mean, obviously I’m going to pick C.”

  Blue looked to Red, almost daring Red to disagree.

  I was definitely impressed with the discipline in either army. Not a single hobgoblin had moved this whole time. No coughing, no fidgeting, nothing. It also made the whole thing incredibly eerie.

  “I agree to it,” Blue said.

  Red snarled at Blue, probably because Blue forced Red’s hand, but still, the hand had been forced.

  “I agree,” Red said, thoroughly less excited than Blue had been.

  “We are agreed then,” Blue said. “A battle of champions.”

  Red nodded. They both looked to me.

  “I’m in,” I said. “Let’s do this.”

  “PRAARK!” Blue yelled out.

  Red sneered, “That is your choice? Praark is a weakling and a coward and I look forward to his death. DUSKALK.”

  “Duskalk?” Blue said with clear derision. “So your plan is to lose? Daring.”

  The Blue army parted, and a wiry-looking hobgoblin stepped up. He had a long thin sword out, and took a few measured swings through the air. His face was long, his beard was seemingly endless, and he had no mustache. Looking around, almost all the hobgoblins had facial hair of some variety, whether full beards or mustaches or some bizarre combination thereof. His black hair pulled back tight into something like a bun, Praark wore blue-tinged chainmail that move seamlessly with his sinuous lithe body.

  Duskalk was basically the opposite of Praark, a hulking beast of a hobgoblin, with muscles appearing to be layered on top of muscles. Duskalk’s thick gauntlets were wrapped around the girthy hilt of something like a big two-handed sword, it was more a six-foot-long flat piece of metal with a super long hilt. Befitting the army Duskalk represented, they wore red armor — full plate. That meant Duskalk looked the image of a knight, minus a helm. Thick breastplate, gauntlets, greaves, all those other words Nikolai taught me on our first quest together that I’d seen forgotten. It presented an interesting contrast to Praark’s blue chain.

  Duskalk roared, spittle flying everywhere.

  The red army shouted back at him in approval.

  Praark sneered and spat. A thick globule of saliva arced through the air and splashed across Duskalk’s pristine armor.

  “Easy guys,” I said, putting my hands up. “Before we get to killing each other, let’s make a few things clear: if I win, I get the gem, and we go free. My whole party. We go wherever we want to go, and y’all can’t touch us.”

  Blue grunted but nodded.

  “You lose,” Red said, “we eat your body and your party.”

  I looked over to Nikolai. Everyone else in the party shook their head, but Nikolai nodded. Once. Small.

  “Deal,” I said.

  “FIGHT!” Red roared.

  Chapter 128

  I don’t want to go out on the limb to say Duskalk cheated, but I’m pretty sure big red was swinging his giant sword thing even before his bossman had said “fight.” The ‘blade’ straight up thundered as it crashed through the air.

  Seeing no other option, I basically just fell backward, watching as the massive blade whooshed over the space I’d previously occupied.

  I slammed onto the stones, rolling away from the attack I knew had to be coming from my blue opponent, Praark. Sure enough, there was a metallic prang as Praark’s sword hit off the ground. I jumped to my feet with my axe in my hands, holding it across my body, full defense, ready to see what my foes had planned.

  Every else moved back from us, including my party, who stood up against a wall on the far side of the gem pillar. The two hobgoblin leaders stood in the first ranks of their respective armies. We had a small open-ish area to fight in, the big pillar serving as a center-point. Given how my last fight had ended, I paid special attention to my movements. This time, there wouldn’t be someone to save me.

  Duskalk took a step towards me, but as big red did, Praark lunged out. Duskalk had to parry Praark’s sword, which left an opening for me.

  I quickly swung my axe left to right, but Duskalk was faster still, dodging enough out of the way that my blow just slid off the thick red armor. Immediately I knew I’d been played. Praark’s thin sword slipped right into my abdomen in an explosion of pain. I jumped out of the way, but not before I felt blood pour down my side.

  So the two hobgoblins were willing to work together to defeat me before focusing on each other.

  My instinct was to hold the wound, staunch the flow of blood. But that wasn’t an option here. I could see a blinking marker on the edge of my vision denoting a bleeding debuff. My health was dropping steadily. But I had a two-handed weapon, so I had no free hands for anything silly like keeping myself alive. Both hands went on the axe, and I started to sidestep.

  I fired off my identification spell, first at Praark:

  Praark

  Hobgoblin

  Lvl 21 Swordshobgoblin

  And then at Duskalk.

  Duskalk

  Hobgoblin

  Lvl 21 Battle Butcher

  Battle Butcher? That was a pretty sweet name for a class. Both were much higher level than I. Both clearly fought on the daily, killing who knows how many of their fellow hobs. That meant they both knew what they were doing fighting-wise. I was pretty well hosed. Still, no reason to give up. Instead, I squared off and gave a smile.

  That made the hobgoblins angry.

  Duskalk roared and went for an overhand chop.

  I had to fight defensively, and barely got my axe up to take his hit.

  The blade slammed into the haft,
and I slid it off to the side, right to where Praark was coming in with another lunge. Duskalk’s eyes went wide as his sword went down, slamming right into Praark’s outstretched arm.

  Sure, Praark got a bit of a stab in me, but he took a pretty brutal hit in return.

  I jumped back again, watching Praark’s arm going limp. He snarled at Duskalk, barking out a quick phrase in what I had to assume was a hobgoblin language of some sort. Three words long, just enough for me to grab the language.

  Smashing! You’ve learned a new language, Hobgoblin Battle Cant.

  “You are just weak,” Duskalk snapped back at the retreating Praark.

  Praark growled, but the arm was pretty close to useless. Blue transferred the blade to the other hand, hopefully an off hand. So far, I’d only seen Praark fight right handed, so I had to hope Praark fighting leftie would give me an advantage.

  I didn’t want to give Blue any time to recuperate whatsoever, so I feinted at Duskalk, who tensed into a defensive posture, and then took a huge step and swung an overhead chop at Praark.

  Praark darted left, getting the good arm in parry position, not thinking I’d be able to switch directions midair.

  But one joy of being overly strong is the ability to do what people think is impossible, so I just pulled the swing to the side and went right by the upraised sword hitting Praark’s relatively unprotected neck area. The axe cut deep, cleaving right through Praark’s flimsy blue chainmail.

  Blood fountained out of him, and though Praark got to his feet, Praark only remained upright for a second. Then his legs buckled and the blue champion crashed to the ground.

  I jumped over the body and spun to see how Duskalk would react. Big red just squinted, looking at the at remains of Praark. Keeping the body between us gave me at least a mild warning should Duskalk attack; it was a pretty gnarly obstacle, and I knew I wasn’t going to be the one to go over it.

  Duskalk roared at me, but he came no closer.

  Praark’s blood continued to cover the floor, and my health continued dropping. I ventured a guess my opponent was aware of my negative condition, meaning waiting was the tactically sound decision for the red champion.

  Foot over foot, I sidestepped, seeing what Duskalk was willing to do. Duskalk mirrored me, keeping our positions relative. But I’d run into the pillar if I kept going. Big red was going to wait me out. It was something of a cowardly tactic, at least from my perspective, but it would most likely work.

  I ran through all my possible tactics.

  Nothing really stuck out to me, so I decided to go with old reliable.

  I threw the axe, winging it as hard as I could at Duskalk.

  Naturally, he moved to block the blow, but there was an incredible amount of force behind it, if I do say so myself. It blew by Duskalk and went spinning end over end, smashing into and cutting down a hobgoblin standing right next to the Red leader.

  Duskalk couldn’t help but look over at the cry of pain from his ally.

  I knelt and snatched up Praark’s sword, leapt across the body, lunging forward with the sword outstretched.

  I wasn’t fast enough — something I’d feared but planned on — and Duskalk got his big blade ripping across his body until it sunk deep into my chest, cutting almost halfway through.

  Cheers burst from the Red Army, they figured they’d just watch their champion win.

  Pain erupted through me. Possibly the worst I’d experienced up to that point.

  I couldn’t help but smile, and I took a ragged wet breath. Duskalk also had a smile across that nasty hobgoblin face. Hot and fetid, the hobgoblin’s breath washed over my face. I dropped my pilfered sword and leaned my head way back. Then I smashed my head against Duskalk’s nose, the creature’s wide schnoz breaking into tiny pieces under my skull.

  The red champion started to pull back, but I grabbed the neck of his armor with my right hand and the bottom of the chest piece with my left. I pulled him to me.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” I growled, feeling blood fill up my mouth from a bevy of internal injuries.

  Eyes wide, fear and confusion battling for control, Duskalk struggled, but I had the hobgoblin, and I knew had enough strength left to do something showy.

  I dropped down a bit to pick the massive hobgoblin up over my head and held Duskalk there for one solid second, letting every hobgoblin in the place know that I wasn’t in any hurry. I made eye contact with the Red leader, who was finally showing a little surprise at the fight in front of him. Then I slammed Duskalk down on the ground as hard as I could, hard enough that dust flew out around him.

  Duskalk groaned, and rocked back and forth, no air left in his lungs.

  I ripped big red’s sword out of my body, took a bit of a faltering step, and then swung down hard, really taking a weight off his shoulders.

  The disembodied head blinked at me once while blood poured out.

  I threw the giant blade on the floor. A gnarly sort of clang rang out in the otherwise silent hall. Perhaps knowing I’d won, the gem floated up and off the pillar until it came down to rest on the ground in front of me.

  I shook the sweat and blood out of my eyes, and spit out a mouthful of blood.

  “Looks like I win,” I said.

  Chapter 129

  I invoked Stand Tall and made it look like all my wounds had just healed. I didn’t want to give either army the idea that I was weak.

  The Red leader nodded once, then turned about, and retreated. The red army held for a moment longer, and then followed in an orderly march, their feet in lockstep.

  The Blue army left in the same way, and our little party was left on our own.

  “You can let the pain show,” Nikolai said. “Whatever you may think of them, a hobgoblin will never go back on their word. As long as you are living, we are safe for the night.”

  Immediately, I dropped the ability and fell to the ground. Ragnar was instantly by my side with a small medical kit. I waved him away. I thought he might argue, but he took the opportunity to return to the fallen hobgoblins and relieve them of all their possessions.

  “I’ll be fine in just, like, a minute,” I said, really hoping I had enough regen power to get back on my feet. The pain was intense, much more than I’d ever experienced before. Laying there, I wished I could just pass out. I could barely breathe.

  Nikolai seemed to realize how bad it was. He pulled a dagger out and cut off the leather I’d been wearing as armor, and tossed it to the side. In doing so, he had to pull out some bits of leather from the wounds itself.

  Skeld went and touched the glowing orbs hovering above the remains of my opponents, both of which were blue. Coins came pouring down, as well as the clang of a blade.

  Emeline and Donner stood over the red gem.

  Donner knelt and reached out for it, but it rolled away from him. Which was odd because it wasn’t round. It was faceted, like it had been cut by a very skilled jeweler, so it shouldn’t have been able to roll on its own. Donner reached for it again. But, just like before, it moved out of the way.

  Skeld grabbed the gem on the first try and brought it over to me.

  “To the victor,” he said and placed it down next to me.

  Breathing was getting easier, and my bleeding debuff had gone away. Health was starting to go up. I felt my insides knitting back together. Which, pro-tip: avoid if you can. It’s both disconcerting and uncomfortable.

  Ragnar busted out some trail-mix type stuff he’d squirreled away (ottered away?), and passed it around. Everyone ate but me, and they all kept their gaze on the inhuman healing happening to my body. It felt awkward.

  “I think we had better move,” Nikolai said.

  I wasn’t at a hundred percent yet, but I was close enough, so I nodded. I tried to get to my feet, but somewhere along the way up, my legs failed. I slammed back against the wall and slid right back down.

  “Stop fucking around,” Nikolai snapped. “Get to your feet, dammit.”

  I blinked,
surprised at his outburst, but it provided enough of a boost to, well, get to my feet dammit.

  Nikolai shoved the big gem into my hands.

  Immediately, a notification took over my vision.

  Do you wish to travel to the second floor of The Dungeon of Ancients or do you wish to Exit?

  Exit?

  You could just exit? This whole dungeon thing had me super curious — I couldn’t see leaving already. Sure it was dangerous, but we hadn’t even gotten a taste of what the treasures it held were. I figured I’d keep that tidbit for myself for the moment.

  “Ready for the next floor?” I asked.

  “This is the key to the second level?” Nikolai replied.

  “I got a notification to that, yeah.”

  Nikolai took a deep breath, and looked over our little party. I noticed he got distracted by something down the hallway, and so I followed his gaze. At either end, a whole new set of hobgoblins watched us. Intently. They were hungry. And angry. And we were a nice juicy morsel sitting there, ripe for the taking.

  “We need to go,” Nikolai said. “Whatever will be next, it will be safer than remaining here.”

  “I thought you said we were safe here for the night,” I said.

  “Hunger does bad things to every beast. Take us to the next floor.”

  I selected yes. A door appeared in the floor, opening up as if by magic. Which, to be fair, it might have been. Inside was a set of stairs leading to another door. A long set of stairs.

  As soon as the door came into view, the hobgoblins were moving.

  “Okay,” I said, “let’s motor, kids.”