Tired of Death - Dungeon

by Neil Hartley

  Tom merely grinned smugly. “I don’t know. This is as far as I go. I’ll wait here for you, though you probably won’t come back up.”

  “I had a cat once,” said Dreth. “I had it neutered.” Ignoring the look on Tom’s face, he turned to Percy. “Your turn. Get going.”

  “One day you’re going to run out of guinea cows, and then where will you be?” the undead grumbled as he gingerly stepped onto the first stair.

  “I’ll manage somehow,” said Dreth, pushing Cuthbert down next.

  Once the zombies had climbed a little way in, Dreth followed, with Redthorne and the baby behind. Sprat brought up the rear.

  The stairs wound around in a spiral, and were narrow and uneven, making the footing treacherous. The gloom deepened as they descended, and it started to get colder. Still, no traps were sprung, and they made it down to the bottom safely.

  “Well, so far so good,” said Percy.

  They examined their new surroundings. There wasn’t much to see. A short, wide passage, made of the same black stone, led up to a solid looking wooden doorway.

  “Forward!” commanded Dreth. “Go around the wall though. I don’t like that patch of light stone in the middle there.”

  The zombies complied, making it to the end of the short corridor unscathed. The others followed cautiously and soon all were stood contemplating the portal.

  “May as well,” shrugged Dreth, and pushed.

  The door swung open with a creak, to reveal a cavernous dark chamber. Mist crawled over the floor, and the walls and high ceiling stretched out as far as they could see, disappearing into the gloom.

  “Ooh!” said Percy. “We never had mist. That is so cool!”

  “Harvey said the item was here, stored in the middle casket,” said Redthorne. “It must be that one over there, on that platform.” He pointed to a raised section some distance away, which stood higher than the surrounding fog. Perched on top of the dais were several large caskets.

  The group started forward, but almost immediately Cuthbert kicked something. He stooped and fumbled about, trying to locate what he’d kicked.

  “A skeleton, poor bugger. All crushed,” he said eventually.

  “No doubt it wasn’t a skeleton when the crushing took place,” said Dreth. “Which leads me to my next question.”

  “What did the crushing?” Redthorne finished for him.

  “Er, probably he did,” said Percy, pointing.

  “Oh fug!” Dreth backpedaled quickly, followed in short order by the others, as a giant form lumbered towards them, an idiot grin on his face.

  “Gut eat!” Boomed a voice, which echoed around the hall. The large shape, at least three times as tall as Dreth, was dressed in tattered brown rags. His greasy brown hair fell past broad shoulders, and he was in serious need of a bath. A long warty nose overhung a wide mouth, full of crooked yellow teeth.

  Dreth turned just in time to see the door slam shut. “Scatter!” he shouted, as the huge figure swung at them.

  They needed no telling. Redthorne was picking up speed rapidly, the baby crying as it was bounced around. Of Sprat there was no sign. Cuthbert and Percy were dodging left and right.

  Dreth sprinted into the dark as the giant’s laughter bounced off the walls. “Such fun!”

  “Let me at it! I’ll slice its fingers off! What a feast!” Darkblood complained from his sheath.

  Dreth ignored the sword and ducked behind a boulder, which turned out to also be sheltering the wizard, who was squatting down, a hand over the baby’s mouth to keep it quiet.

  “Can you cast some sort of protection spell on me?” said Dreth. “A shield of some kind?”

  Redthorne nodded. “Keep the baby quiet while I work.”

  Dreth grabbed the infant and stuffed some of his robe into its mouth as the mage hastily worked his magic. In the distance he could dimly see the giant chasing Percy, who was running in circles and screaming.

  There was a sudden flash of light, and a shimmer surrounded Dreth briefly.

  “Done! You should be good for about 20 minutes,” said Redthorne. “The shield will protect you from crushing but not sharp objects. I figured that thing would rely on smashing rather than swords.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” said Dreth and stood up. He drew Darkblood as he walked forward, looking like the angel of death as he strode through the fog.

  “Giant! Come on and pick on someone not your own size!” he shouted.

  The beast stopped running after Percy and looked around. “Little man die now!” he said, and lumbered forward.

  Dreth held his ground, hoping the wizard’s spell would be up to it. The giant was big! Fat bounced as it jogged towards him. Ugly too. Its face made Cuthbert look pretty.

  As it closed the giant slowed, puzzled as to why its prey was not running away.

  Dreth raised Darkblood, which positively hummed with bloodlust. “Feeed meeee!” it moaned.

  “Giant! Surrender now. You cannot hurt me. I’m Dreth the Giant Slayer.”

  “Gut bash! Gut no afraid!” came the response.

  “Gut! Is that your name? Listen to me. I am Dreth of the Undead Way! We’re from the dungeon too. No need to attack us!” Dreth tried reasoning.

  Gut merely snarled, and grabbed him with a giant fist, enveloping Dreth. Darkblood was held out horizontally though, and the sword pierced the giant’s hand, resulting in a howl of pain of deafening proportions.

  “Bloooood!” shrieked the blade, drinking life essence.

  Still, the cut was not fatal, and giant was big and strong. He squeezed hard.

  The spell held, and a look of puzzlement washed over the huge face as Dreth remained unharmed.

  “Have you had enough? Or do you want me to get angry?”

  Gut dropped him and, clutching his injured hand, backed away. “Gut sorry Mr. Dreth! Gut not know! Please not hurt Gut!”

  Dreth picked himself up off the floor and dusted himself down. “That’s better. A bit of respect!” He turned around. “Come on out! Our friend has learned his lesson.”

  Slowly the others emerged from the haze. Sprat popped out of the fog next to Dreth, making him jump. “I found a stick!” he said happily, showing Dreth a short tube clutched in his hand.

  “Yes yes, go and play with it somewhere else, there’s a good minion,” said Dreth, keeping his eyes on Gut.

  Sprat nodded and skipped off, waving his new toy around as the others approached.

  “Good job,” nodded Redthorne.

  Dreth spoke to Gut, who was sitting down now, blubbering to himself. “Giant! Which casket have you been told to guard?”

  “That one sir, please not kill Gut sir! They said Gut hurt people as long as box not touched.” Gut pointed at the raised platform they had spotted earlier.

  “Very good,” Dreth replied. “Stay there then. If you are good I will er, let you help us some more.”

  “Oh joy,” muttered Cuthbert.

  They climbed onto the dais and looked at the casket, which was made of dark stone. The cover was of the same material, without adornment, and appeared to be simply rested on the top.

  “It’s a bit coffin like isn’t it?” said Percy cheerfully. He heaved on the lid, which slid open in a cloud of dust.

  They peered in. “Cooo! Look at that!” said Cuthbert.

  “A babe,” Percy replied. “Cute, and tasty looking.”

  Dreth slapped his hand away. “No eating the merchandise. This woman must be what old rotten wants.” He brushed a few cobwebs away and looked her over.

  She was, he had to admit, fairly attractivefor a corpse. Long hair was arranged carefully about her. It was striped white and black, like some sort of desert animal Dreth only half remembered. She was garbed in a simple long black robe, and her skin was a pale and delicate cream color. Her hands, which were crossed over her in the classic pose, were adorned with f
our rings, each one had a different colored jewel set in the middle, which sparkled even in the limited light.

  “Well, no sense hanging around.” He bent over and then stopped. She had opened her eyes and was looking at him.

  “Er, hello? Who are you?” she said. “Are you the one?”

  Dreth paused and then straightened up. “Could be,” he said. “Name’s Dreth. We were, er, just passing by. So. Ah. How’s it going with you then?”

  Percy tittered and whispered something in Cuthbert’s ear.

  “I’m waiting,” the woman said, sitting up in one swift motion, vampire style.

  “What a lovely name,” said Cuthbert. “I’m Cuthbert, this is Percy. Zombies first class at your service.”

  “Ignore these idiots. Who are you waiting for?” Dreth enquired politely.

  “I…” She frowned. “I don’t know.”

  Redthorne tapped Dreth on the shoulder. “A word?” he said, and moved away.

  Dreth followed as the woman rose, slightly unsteadily, to her feet.

  “Let me help you there,” said Percy, as she climbed out of her coffin.

  Cuthbert, determined not to be outdone, leapt forward. “You must be hungry after sleeping so long. Here, allow me to offer you a bit of Halfling foot, it's nice and aged.” Cuthbert proffered the said item.

  “Put that disgusting thing away,” said Percy, knocking Cuthbert's hand. “She’s a lady of refinement, any buffoon can see that. A Halfling’s smelly foot isn't going to satisfy her, she needs something more along the lines of juicy eyeballs, or a tender baby parts.”

  “Well, I don't have any baby eyeballs, you’ll have to ask Redthorne for those, but I do have a foot.” Cuthbert waved the thing in the air, losing the last remaining toe in the process. “Which is one foot more than you have, so why don’t you just stand aside and let me look after the lady?”

  He turned back to speak to the newly animated female, but she’d wandered off, looking around in puzzlement at the surroundings.

  Dreth huddled with Redthorne, who spoke in a low hiss. “Are you really going to take her back to that creature on the throne?”

  “That was the deal,” said Dreth.

  “But who knows what he’ll do with her?”

  Dreth shrugged. “Seems a shame I admit, but what can you do?”

  “Take her with us! You can’t allow her to fall into that creatures’ grasp!”

  “I agree with the wizard,” said Cuthbert, who had wandered up. “We should keep her and use her to bargain our way past the Golem.”

  Dreth pursed his thin lips. “Good point. But what about old cat-face and his friends outside? We have enough people angry at us, without adding more.” He looked around. The newly resurrected woman was standing a little way away, whilst Percy hovered about her, trying to make small talk. The giant was sitting in the mist, sucking a finger and humming a horribly out of tune tune.

  Dreth made a decision. “We’ll take the giant back with us. Old McVon doesn’t know what’s in the box, so he says. It could be anything. We shall say it was sparky over there we found.” He jerked a thumb at Gut.

  “Do you think he’ll swallow that?” asked Redthorne. “He’s rotten, not stupid.”

  Dreth scowled. “He’ll have to. Come on, let’s go.”

  Percy wandered over with the woman in tow.

  “What’s your name my dear?” Dreth asked.

  The woman frowned for a moment. “I can’t remember. Something beginning with ‘M’ I think.”

  “Matilda?” suggested Cuthbert. “Myrtle maybe?”

  “Myrtle! What kind of name is that?” scoffed Percy. “She’s obviously a Maria, or perhaps a Millie.”

  The woman shook her head. “None of those sound familiar.”

  “I’ll just call you M for now then,” said Dreth. He walked up to Gut and kicked him in the shin. “Hey! Big man. I’ve a task for you.”

  “Gut listen.”

  “You are re-assigned.” Dreth paused at the giant’s puzzled look. “I mean you have a new job. Ok?”

  “Ok.”

  “Good. Come with me, I’ll explain what to do on the way.”

  The Giant stood up and nodded. “Gut follow.”

  “I just hope he can fit up the stairs,” said Cuthbert as they headed towards the exit.

  ~ * ~

  “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Sooth Slyfoot hissed at Xyth as they moved swiftly down the tunnel. He was usually good at knowing where he was, but this dungeon was not his precious forest, and it was harder to keep track of the route.

  “Of course I do,” retorted Xyth, but there was a hint of doubt in his voice.

  “We’ve already been gone too long,” said Hurn, who was carrying his favorite rune-sword. “Vish is long dead by now.”

  “She may be alright, Vish is a fine warrior,” said Sooth. He didn’t believe it himself really.

  Frell Keeneye, bringing up the rear of the impromptu rescue party, merely shook his head.

  The four elves moved swiftly down one passage and up another, following Xyth’s inner map.

  “It’s somewhere around here…” Xyth said, but Frell cut him off.

  “Quiet! Do you hear that?”

  Four sets of pointy ears cocked, as they concentrated on listening.

  “Someone’s coming!” whispered Sooth.” He looked around for a retreat route. They didn’t want unnecessary trouble now. “Back! Down here!”

  “Careful!” shouted Xyth, leaping forward and pushing Sooth to one side.

  A set of spikes that had been carefully concealed in the walls but a moment before, shot out into the space where Sooth had been standing.

  They picked themselves up off the floor. “Thanks,” said Sooth, shaken.

  “That’s torn it,” said Hurn. “They’ve heard us. Weapons!”

  The four readied themselves, falling into combat formation as a group of shadowy figures rounded the corner.

  “Drow!” hissed the elves as one.

  “Fair skins!” the reply came back.

  Sooth’s mouth drew itself into a scowl. The dark elves were a hated enemy, an anathema to everything his kind stood for.

  “Shit,” murmured Xyth as more of the Drow came into view, “we’re outnumbered.”

  Sooth saw he was right. There must have been about a dozen of them. “Get ready to run,” he hissed, his eyes never leaving the enemy, who were closing slowly with weapons drawn.

  “Run? They are Drow!” Hurn spat.

  “There are at least twelve of them!” Sooth answered, “I don’t want to commit suicide right now thank you!”

  The elves ducked as one as the Drow released a hail of crossbow bolts.

  “Arg! I’m hit!” cried Frell, pulling the bolt out of his arm.

  “Run!” shouted Sooth, and they ran, Xyth leading the way.

  There were shouts of glee from behind them, and their dark cousins took up the chase…

  ~ * ~

  “What’s this?” Tom asked as Gut heaved himself out of the stairwell, up which he had just about managed to squeeze.

  “Nice to see you too,” said Percy, who had taken a dislike to the cat man.

  “This is your masters’ prize,” said Dreth.

  Tom sneered, showing long canines. “He’s not my master. We cat people acknowledge no outsider as our superior. You’re saying this giant is what the Harvey wanted?”

  “The very same,” said Cuthbert cheerfully. “You get a lot of bang for your gold with us!”

  “Where’s your wizard?” the cat man asked.

  “Dead,” replied Dreth. “Died fighting the guardian down there.”

  “It was a doozo!” chimed in Percy. “A demon as big as a house!”

  “Doozy,” corrected Dreth. He turned to Tom. “Lead on then pussycat,” he said.

  Tom hissed at him, but, after one more puzzle
d glance at the giant, stalked off down the tunnel. Dreth grinned and followed him.

  The others trailed behind, the zombies unusually quiet. Sprat fiddled with the tube he had found as he brought up the rear.

  It wasn’t too long before the group once more entered the large throne room. All seemed to be as before, until they approached Harvey anyway.

  “Hey! You’re looking better,” said Cuthbert. “Did you take something? Can I have some?”

  Indeed, Harvey was looking considerably healthier than in their last encounter. His rags were now fine wizard robes, and his skin fairly gleamed with health. Long black hair was tied back on his head. Only his eyes remained cold and dead.

  He smiled crookedly as Dreth stood in front of him. “You succeeded in your task?” he asked. Even his voice sounded healthy, vibrant even.

  “I really must have a go on that throne,” Percy said in a low voice. Cuthbert nodded.

  “Harvey, may I introduce your prize.” Dreth held out a hand and Gut clumped into view.

  “This? This was in the casket?” Harvey stood up, frowning.

  “Yes. Absolutely. Why? Not what you were expecting?” Dreth looked askance at the wizard.

  Smoke was now emanating from Harvey’s ears. “Where is she?” he demanded. “Where is the woman?”

  “Woman?” Dreth could have earned a standing ovation for his acting. “What woman? We found this giant in the casket. Unless your cat man took us to the wrong crypt of course.” He shrugged and tried, not very successfully, to look innocent.

  “That’s Cat person to you,” scowled Tom.

  “I will not be cheated!” Harvey Von McVon thundered. He raised his hands and muttered several words of Power, which bounced around the room.

  Dreth stood back and put his hand to his sword. The zombies hid behind Gut.

  “I think the cat poop is about to fly,” whispered Cuthbert, peering through the giant’s legs.

  There was a shimmering in the air, back in the gloom of the chamber. Harvey smiled. “Ah, there you are my dear. Would you like to approach and say hello? Don’t be shy now. That’s right.” McVon grinned and nodded insanely as M stepped forward hesitantly. Redthorne close behind.

  “What happened?” hissed Dreth at the wizard. “I thought you said you could keep her cloaked?”

  The mage shrugged. “Sorry, he took me by surprise. Whatever he is, Harvey is a powerful spell caster.”