by Robert Bevan
Julian looked to Dave. Dave shrugged.
They made a tiptoeing dash toward the front door. Dave made a grab at the handle, but Cooper caught him by the wrist.
“Stop,” said Cooper.
Dave looked up at him. “Why?”
“I need to rage.”
“What?” asked Julian.
Cooper shut his eyes tight and balled up his fists.
“What is he doing?” Julian asked Dave.
“Barbarians have a special rage feature to their class,” Dave explained. “Once per day, he can go into a rage, and he gets a boost to his Strength and Constitution scores.”
Cooper whispered a mantra to himself. “I’m very angry. I’m very angry.”
Julian looked at Dave dubiously. “He doesn’t look very enraged to me,” he observed.
Dave smiled and shuddered at the same time. After a hard swallow, he nodded back at Cooper. “Look again.”
There was no hint of white left in Cooper’s eyes. The few gaps that weren’t crawling with blood vessels were tinted pink. Snot ran freely from both nostrils, and drool from either corner of his mouth, and it was abundantly clear that he didn’t give a fuck about any of that.
Cooper punched a hole in the door, which seemed to piss him off even more. He tore at the hole he had made with both hands, ripping large jagged chunks out of it. Julian and Dave stood back to avoid the flying debris. Cooper entered the house with a roar that might have either been triumphant or a reaction to getting a spear shoved in his eye.
Julian ducked inside with Ravenus flapping in behind him. Cooper stood on one side of a puddle of coffee and what looked to be the remains of a broken mug. On the other side of the puddle stood two terrified men. One was the guard from outside. The other was a man with shiny black hair, a fancy mustache, and a bathrobe. The latter was momentarily distracted from his terror when Julian walked into view.
“Where did you get that serape?” he asked.
Cooper raised his axe in the air and screamed again. Both men raised their hands in petrified surrender. He looked like he might bring it down on one or both of them. Julian didn’t dare try to stop him.
Dave dared. “Cooper!” he shouted. “Stop! Don’t kill anyone! We need to ask- Oh hello.”
The man in the bathrobe stepped back behind his guard when Dave waddled in with his giant mace in hand. Both of their gazes followed the head of the mace down to Dave’s furry, leopard-patterned forearm. Dave took the mace in his left hand, and hid his right hand behind his back.
For a moment the only sounds in the room were Cooper’s hard, snot-bubbled breathing, and the light flapping of wings as Ravenus kept his balance perched on the back of a chair.
“Could you tell us where the prisoners are kept?” asked Julian.
Neither the man in the bathrobe nor his guard dared lower their hands. They each pointed one finger toward the hallway.
“Just…” His voice shook with each word. “Just… down… the… hall.”
“Second door on the right,” offered the guard.
“Thank you,” said Julian. He held up his arm and Ravenus perched on it, facing him. “You stay here and keep an eye on these two,” he said. “If either of them move, you come and get me. We'll be right back as soon as we find our friend.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Thank you,” said Dave with a small, awkward bow.
“Yeah, thanks a lot,” said Cooper.
Julian looked at him. His eyes were back to normal. He wiped the drool off the corners of his mouth with his forearm. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah,” said Cooper. “I’m cool. Let’s go get Tim.”
They found the door without any problem. A plaque on the crossbar holding it shut read “Dungeon. Authorized Personnel Only.”
“I can hear something inside,” said Julian, putting his ear to the door. “Sounds like a fight.”
“Shit,” said Cooper.
“What's wrong?” asked Julian.
“I just blew my rage.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Barbarian rage,” he explained dispiritedly. “I only get to use it once per day, and it's finished at the end of the encounter. I thought we were heading into the big battle back there, but it was just some random guard and a dude with shiny hair.”
“So what are you saying?” asked Julian. “You can't fight?”
“Oh, I can fight,” said Cooper. “It's just that my heart's not in it. I can't get good and riled up beforehand.”
“There are men in there who may be trying to kill your friend!” argued Julian. “That doesn't get your heart pumping?”
Cooper shrugged. “I'm as cool as a cucumber,” he said. “Want to feel my pulse?” He offered his wrist.
“No thanks,” said Julian. “Could you just move the bar off of the door please?”
“All right,” said Cooper. With one hand, he lifted the thick wooden beam out of its supports and tossed it to the side.
Julian paused and turned to Dave. “Maybe it's best if-”
“Get out of the way,” said Cooper. “I'll go in first.” He opened the door.
The scene beyond the open door was absolute bedlam. Men in armor fighting giant rats. Limbs and swords were flailing around wildly. Five rats lay dead on the stone floor, and at least one of the soldiers was down. If he wasn't dead, he was close. The only thing keeping the remaining rats from finishing him off was the distraction of other men who were trying to kill them.
“It's them!” shouted a man who Julian took to be the leader. “You will pay dearly for your crimes!”
“I don't see Tim,” Cooper said. “Should we go?”
“What have you done with our friend?” Julian shouted.
The man stabbed a rat, tried to move forward, but was caught in the calf by another one. He roared in pain and kicked it away. “You'd do better to concern yourself with what I'm going to do with you rather than what I'm going to do with that little shit when I catch up to him again.”
Julian stood with Dave in front of Cooper, looking down the stone steps into the battle taking place in the corridor below. He was uncomfortably unaware of what he was supposed to do at a time like this.
“Come on,” said Dave. “He's not in here. Let's just go.”
“Hang on,” said Julian. “Let's give Diplomacy a shot. He might know where Tim went.” He shouted back to the man in charge. “I noticed you and your men seem to be in a pickle,” he said. “Would you like some help?”
One of the other guards caught a rat in the throat with a lucky jab of his sword, and the captain kicked another one so hard that it stopped moving.
“If you really want to help me,” said the captain, “you can all slit your own throats while we finish off these gods damned rats.”
“Listen,” said Julian. “We aren't very comfortable with killing people, but we really need to find our friend, so-”
“Ha!” sneered the captain. “That mongrel beast behind you seemed comfortable enough with killing one of my men.”
“That was sort of an accident.”
“An accident?” The captain stopped attacking rats for a moment. His chin jutted out, and the corners of his mouth pulled down in a tight scowl, as if he were trying to look angry, but his eyes flickered a betrayal of confusion and disbelief. “He chopped his fucking head off!”
“Right,” said Julian, lowering his head. “I know what it must look like to you.” He paused to search for the right words. “But you see, we were just playing a game, and Cooper thought that would be funny.”
Dave elbowed Julian sharply in the arm. “Dude, you call that Diplomacy?” he whispered. “They're going to fucking murder us!”
“Men!” shouted Captain Righteous. “Kill the monster and the dwarf. Leave the elf for me.”
The soldiers abandoned the three rats who were still trying to bite through their armor and turned toward Julian, Dave, and Cooper, weapons raised.
Cooper and
Dave also readied their weapons.
Julian reached into a small pouch on his belt and pulled out a pinch of white hair clippings. “Horse!” he shouted, waving one arm in the air, and blowing the hair clippings out of the palm of his other hand.
After a sound like a single clap of hands, accompanied by a small flash of light, the two opposing groups found themselves looking at opposite ends of a very surprised looking horse.
“What the f-” was all Dave had time to say before he flew backwards into Cooper, who caught him but was unable to keep his balance. They fell backwards into a cranny between the steps and the wall. Dave had a horseshoe-shaped dent in his breastplate.
The horse bucked and whinnied, the soldiers stepped back, and the rats retreated into Shorty's room.
Julian was trying to pull a bewildered Dave off of an equally bewildered Cooper when Ravenus flapped into the room.
“Julian!” said the raven with alarm in its voice. “They're coming! You need to get out of here right now.”
“I can't leave my friends here,” said Julian. “I'll try to get everyone out, but you need to go find Tim.”
“Who's Tim?” asked Ravenus.
“He's the guy we came to rescue,” said Julian. “He must have escaped before we got here.”
“Where do you think he went?”
“I don't know,” said Julian. “Go back to where I summoned you. Look for him there.”
Ravenus flew out of the dungeon just before the man in the bathrobe reached the door.
Cooper squirmed under the weight of Dave, and Julian pulled on Dave’s arm, but it was no good. They were jammed in that little space pretty good.
Ravenus flew toward the door, and the man in the bathrobe raised his arms to cover his face. The effort wasn’t enough. Ravenus managed to rake a talon across his face on the way out. The man screamed and flailed his arms ineffectually at the bird.
“Nice one, Ravenus!” Julian shouted after him as he flew out of sight.
The man in the bathrobe glared down at Julian with fury in his eyes, and blood running down from three slashes in his cheek. Fury gave way to shocked confusion when he spotted the rear end of a horse for the first time.
He peered further into the ill-lit corridor, past the horse, at the guards. “Give us a knock when you’ve finished this… whatever this is,” he commanded. He stepped out backwards, continuing to stare at the horse, and closed the great wooden door behind him.
Julian knew he didn't have the time to stop them from locking the door, so he didn't bother to try. His first priority was to get his friends upright again while the people that were trying to kill them were still distracted by the horse he'd summoned. As he pulled Dave to his feet, he heard the crossbar clunking into place on the other side of the door. They were trapped.
“I've fucking had it with this job!” shouted the leader. He shoved his sword into its scabbard, threw down his hands in disgust, and walked into one of the cells. A dead rat was in the bed. It was covered by a ratty old sheet and looked to be sleeping. He kicked it off the bed and sat down. “This isn't what I signed up for.” He looked over at Julian, who had finally gotten the rest of his party to their feet. “Hey elf,” he shouted. “You want a truce? You got one.”
“Huh?” said Cooper, only just coming around to where he was.
“Huh?” said one of the subordinate guards.
The leader glared at the soldier who questioned him. “Do you think you get paid enough to be locked in a dungeon to fight like a dog in a pit?”
“But they killed Thaddeus,” the guard argued, but didn't quite sound like his heart was in it.
“Thaddeus was a dick,” replied the leader. “Can you honestly say that you miss him?”
“Well, no, but...” He gave up and leaned back against the cell bars.
The remaining guards removed another dead rat from the bed in the cell across from where the leader was sitting, and put their wounded comrade on it. He was bleeding profusely from the lower leg.
“Maybe you should go help him,” Julian whispered to Dave, “as a token of goodwill.”
“Maybe I would,” Dave hissed back at him, “if you get that fucking horse out of my way.”
“Oh yeah. Sorry about that.” Julian waved his arm and repeated his command word. “Horse!” The horse disappeared back into a pinch of horse hair.
As soon as the horse disappeared, the rats charged out of Shorty's room. One of them locked eyes with Dave, who looked to be in no mood for it.
Dave grabbed his mace with both hands and readied himself. “Fucking animals,” he muttered. “I am so fucking sick of fucking animals today.” The rat lunged up at him, and he swung his mace with all the strength he could muster. Everyone in the dungeon winced as the sound of a crunch coincided with a giant rat body flipping up through the air and against the bars of a cell.
The other two rats were less bothered about their fallen brother, and one of them had its eyes set on Julian.
Julian had no more love for these creatures than Dave did, but what he did have was a lot more fear of them. He yelped and ran into the one cage that had been holding neither prisoners nor rats, and tried to close the door behind him. It required a key to lock, so he just held it closed as best he could with one hand, and started to wave the other one around in the air. The rat's snout was poking through two of the bars, and it caught the bottom of Julian's robe.
“Methylchloroisothiazolinone!” Julian shouted, and pointed his free hand down at the rat. A sparkling arrow sputtered out of his fingertip and burned into the rat's side. It shrieked and let go of Julian's robe as a charred hole in its flesh smoldered and smoked. Cooper finished it off with a good solid kick to the other side. Its body flew down the hall into the room at the far end of the hall where it landed strangely without a sound.
The last rat tried to bite Cooper but barely managed to scratch his boot. Cooper swung his axe down and chopped the creature in two.
“You all right?” Dave asked Cooper.
“Yeah, I'm fine. Go see if you can do anything for that guy.”
Dave set his mace down on the ground, raised his hands up in a gesture of peace, and started making his way slowly and cautiously toward the cell with the injured guard. “I'm a cleric, and I can help your friend.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” shouted the wounded guard. “Quit fucking around and come help me!”
“Oh,” said Dave. “I was just... I didn't know if-”
“Come on!” shouted another guard.
“Okay,” said Dave, hurrying into the cell. He laid one broad dwarven palm on the guards sweating forehead. “It will feel better soon.”
The guard nodded his head, breathing shallowly and quickly. “What… happened…” He winced in pain, then continued. “to… your… arm?”
“Shut up,” said Dave, and slapped him in the forehead. “I heal thee.”
“I heal thee?” one guard mouthed to another, who shrugged in response.
Even the recipient of the spell looked questioningly at Dave, but only briefly. His head fell back as the spell began to take effect. He moaned as the redness of razor-burn on his cheeks and neck disappeared and he grew a fresh layer of healthy smooth skin. “Oh, that’s nice,” he said between moans.
Julian knew exactly how he felt. He remembered when Dave had healed him. He’d felt brand new again.
The guard clenched his teeth and closed his eyes when the healing power reached his mangled lower leg. He let out a cry and a shudder as the torn skin, muscles, tendons, and blood vessels fused back into a properly functioning mass of living flesh again.
“Darren, are you okay?” asked the guard who had been supporting his head.
“By the gods,” said Darren, his eyes still closed. “I think I just came.”
Dave and the guard simultaneously removed their hands from his head, which fell back with a thud against the not overly-soft mat on the bed.
“Ow,” said Darren.
&nb
sp; Captain Righteous stood up but remained in his cell. “My uncle is a priest of Pelor,” he said to Dave. “What god do you serve?”
“Me?” asked Dave. “Oh, I don't serve any gods. The book said I could just pick two domains.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I'm not really religious.”
“You're a fucking cleric.”
“Yeah, well...” Dave paused, looking for the right words. “The party needed a healer, and I happened to have a pretty high Wisdom, so-”
“Yes,” said the captain. “Your wisdom is overshadowed only by your modesty.” He sat back down on the edge of the bed. “This is what the world has come to,” he muttered to himself. “Godless fucking clerics.”
Chapter 12
“What happened?” asked Katherine, wincing and shutting her eyes against the sudden burst of sunshine. Birds chirped somewhere above her. That was odd. She felt around for something to support her, and was surprised to grab hold of what felt like a tree. She cautiously opened her eyes and saw that she was, in fact, holding onto a tree. “Where am I?” she whispered. She looked around and saw only more trees. She was in a forest. That explained the birds well enough. But why was she in a forest? How did she get here? Why was she holding a sickle? What was that panting sound? She looked down, screamed, and dropped her sickle. A large gray wolf stared back at her with its sloppy pink tongue hanging out.
She tried desperately to scramble up the trunk of the tree. She’d only made it about three feet up when her hand slipped. Her back collided with the soft earth below. She rolled over, grabbed her sickle, and held it threateningly at the wolf, which only continued to stare at her.
Katherine stood up and bolted into the woods. The wolf trotted along behind her. She ran until the thought of running any further was less appealing than the thought of getting ripped apart by a wolf. Finally, she stopped to catch her breath. The wolf stood patiently next to her, not looking the least bit winded for its effort. Her arm instinctively jerked away when it tried to lick her hand, but then she relaxed. If it was going to kill her, it would have done so by now. She scratched under its chin, and it tilted its head back, as if to offer her more chin to scratch.
