by Eric Ugland
Which I would have seen had I not been inside the creature at the time, squished into its insides, covered in the various viscera of a gargoyle.
He shuddered a bit, and there was a low rumbling noise before all the breath left the creature in one quick motion, like the gargoyle’s lungs had collapsed. Then everything was still.
GG! You’ve killed a Robeachon’s Gargoyle (LVL 18 elemental)
You’ve earned 3000 XP! What a mighty hero you are.
Huzzah! Against all odds, you have reached Level 8! You receive 2 attribute points to distribute in the next 36 hours, or you lose them. Dare to believe you can survive, and achieve greatness. Or don’t.
Nice.
I pushed, as best I could, the dagger the rest of the way through, and my hand felt the cold night air. It took a bit of squirming, and I got my other hand out. Then, well, I guess you could say I experienced a rebirth. Except I remember this one, and it was disgusting. I just pulled myself free, and when I finally got my shoulders through, the rest was kind of easy, and I slid down the gargoyle’s purple skin until I collapsed onto the ground.
Steam came off me, rising into the night. I felt really funky. In a gross way.
There were men and women with lanterns all around me, and as soon as I wiped the blood away, I saw it was the City Guard.
“Interesting technique,” the head guard said, a beefy woman with curls of red hair escaping her helmet at every angle. “You a hunter?”
I used the back of my hand to wipe the gunk from my face, which was a pointless exercise, I just felt like I spread it around, maybe added a bit.
She held out a canteen of water.
I nodded thanks, then poured it on my face, washing off some of the blood and guts.
“Not a hunter,” I said, sputtering.
“Why you out here?” she asked.
“Saw a man running from this thing,” I replied, shooting my thumb over my shoulder. “He had a kid with him. Couldn’t just sit and watch.”
“So you got it to follow you instead? How?”
“Slapped it.”
She frowned, then one of her underlings laughed. Which started a cascade of laughter from the group of soldiers.
“Seemed to have been effective,” the leader said, barely hiding her smile.
“Yeah, pissed him off more than I expected.”
“Do you want the corpse?” she asked. “Or you want us to dispose of it?”
“Can I get it delivered somewhere?”
“You pay, I’ll get it where you want.”
“I’m working at this pit,” I said, “think you can get it there?”
“That’s easy,” she said. “One gold, it’ll be there in the morning.”
“Thank you,” I said, and gave her the address.
“You’re a pitworker?”
“Restorer?”
“That makes sense,” she said with a nod. “You ever want a real job, you come see me. Could use a crazy fool like you in the guard.”
I thanked her, and got my KrakenTooth back in my belt, then stumbled home, carefully cycling my healing spell to fix all the sprains, tears, and the like I’d taken in the gargoyle’s hit.
Chapter 57
Now while I wanted to do nothing more than go to sleep on a nice soft feather-filled bed because I was exhausted after battling two asshole monsters in one shitty night, there were two big problems, the least of which being I no longer had a feather filed bed, or a bed at all really.
I got home to find my door locked. I used my key, opened it up, and locked it behind me. I stepped foot on the bottom landing, looked up, and saw a man sitting on the steps near the entrance to my apartment on the fourth floor. He stared at me.
“Please,” he said, “just, can he sleep through the night?”
“What?” I replied, genuinely confused.
“Before we must go.”
“Why do you have to go anywhere?” I asked, starting to climb the stairs slowly. Partially because I didn’t want to spook the guy, but also because it hurt quite a bit. I’d run out of mana before I’d healed everything, so I had been thinking of taking a hot shower while the mana recovered, and then doing a more thorough job at putting myself back together.
“You, I mean,” the guy stammered, “you were kind to offer us shelter overnight, but—”
“Bah,” I said, waving my hand at him, “I barely do anything with all this space. Stay.”
“But, you know nothing of myself or my child?”
“You planning on killing me?”
“No, I would never.”
“Yeah, then we’re fine. I don’t have anything to rob. Not even a bed. Apologies for that, by the way.”
He was about to say something more, but I was already on the third floor, and I pushed into the door, which I hadn’t bothered to lock, and walked into the training area. There was a shower in the back, and that’s where I headed.
“Pardon me,” the man continued speaking in the room, clearly having followed me in there. “What is all this? What happened to you?”
In the light, I certainly looked pretty gruesome. Blood was everywhere. Not my blood, which would have at least looked normal-ish, but gargoyle blood, which was a darker purple. And then there were all the little bits and pieces of the gargoyle that had come with me when I went through the monster. I picked a long fibrous bit of viscera and tossed it to the side.
“I’m fine, just got to know the inner gargoyle.”
“The one chasing me?”
“I hope so. If there’s more than one, I’m leaving it for someone else to deal with.”
“You killed the monster?”
“I did. It was, I mean, yeah. I killed it.”
“You killed a gargoyle?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you a hunter?”
“No. Is that a job?”
“Of course. What is your job?”
“Uh, pit restoration assistant?”
He frowned, clearly confused. “And you were able to kill a gargoyle?”
“It was more luck than anything, I mean, luck and a decent plan that actually worked.”
“Many consider luck a dump stat, but I wish I had never listened to them. So many moments in life hinge on little things going your way.”
“I’m going to hop in the shower here,” I said, “you can keep asking questions and the like, but I don’t want this stuff to dry on me.”
He nodded. He was a good looking man, for the most part, a strong chin, powerful jawline. He had the nose of a long-time brawler, the oversized knuckles of one, too. Long and lanky, I felt like his arms were a little too long, but there were certainly ropes of muscle all over him, and barely any fat. I had the feeling meals weren’t consistent for him. Or large. His eyes were kind, though, and there was an earnestness to him. Besides, he was with his kid. I knew there was a chance I was making a mistake, but better to be nice and wrong than mean and wrong. Right?
Maybe.
I went into the bathroom, then peeled the clothes off my body, thinking that some armor would be a wise investment, and I got in the shower. Lots of scrubbing, lots of soap, lots of water. And nothing from outside of the shower. I got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around myself, and came out to see the guy still there, trying to look around the blocked-off windows.
“Keeps the peeping toms out,” I said.
He turned around quickly like I’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t have been, like he was the peeping tom. In the background, I could hear the vague peeling of bells. Morning.
“You think your son is awake?” I asked.
“We can leave,” he said softly.
“Knock that off,” I said. “If you have a place to go, a place you want to go, then cool. Otherwise, I meant, let’s get some breakfast and hash a plan out, okay?”
“A plan for what?”
“Are you homeless?”
He paused for a moment, then nodded.
“So if I send you o
ut into the city, you’re going to have no place to hide come nightfall, will you?”
“No. We won’t.”
“And some other nightmare creature is going to come along and kill you and/or your kid.”
“There is a chance of that, but it is not your concern.”
I gritted my teeth, he was making this a lot harder than I wanted to deal with.
“Dude,” I said. “I’m trying to give you a home, okay? You want to go play with gargoyles and monsters? Fine. But otherwise, come get a bite to eat with me.”
He nodded and went upstairs.
And then I had to go upstairs because that’s where my extra clothes were. So we had that awkward sort of, we’d already said goodbye, but then we’re both walking the same way thing.
His kid was curled up asleep in my closet on a pile of blankets. A little boy, maybe two. Or three. Or who knows, kids’ ages have always been a mystery to me. Small guy though, under three feet. Brown hair, that was very dirty. He was pretty much dirty all over.
I went to the stack of clothes I had on my lone dresser, still hadn’t put them away, and I sorted them out until I found a shirt I thought looked clean and some pants. I put on stockings, because apparently, socks had yet to be invented, and then got a wide belt around my waist.
Then I turned around and saw two giant eyes staring at me.
The kid was awake.
And he had very big eyes. Eyes that were showing little more than abject terror.
“Hi,” I said, in my best kid voice. But then I felt stupid, so I just talked normally. “We’re getting breakfast, you want some?”
Chapter 58
It was the first time I’d seen the Heavy Purse when it wasn’t ridiculously busy. It was basically empty because it had just opened. Titus was unloading some crates at the bar, while his wife was moving in and out of the storeroom.
Titus looked up when I walked in.
“Clyde,” he said, “how are you doing?”
“Good,” I said. “Breakfast for three?”
“Big or small?”
I looked to the two bedraggled guests next to me, little more than skin and bones.
“Extra-large,” I said. “And a big mug of milk for the three of us.”
I steered the two through some tables until we got to one with a modicum of privacy from Titus, and with a clear view of the door.
“What’s the deal?” I asked as soon as we were settled.
“With?” The man asked.
“You. Where’s his mom? What do you do? Why are you homeless?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it, then closed his eyes.
“Sorry,” I said, “I’m being an asshole. I shouldn’t have been so blunt.”
“The least I can do is provide you answers,” he said. “I am, his mother has died. A year past. I couldn’t keep up with rent, so we were thrown out. We were arena fighters. I was doing well until I got hurt. And though she swore not to return to the arena after him,” he pointed to his son, “we had no choice. She went back. Lost her first fight back. But it was not her fault. She was an amazing warrior, just, we made enemies… But that is not of interest to you. I have had a stroke of bad luck, bad fights I couldn’t win. Or fights I might not survive. I can’t take those. Not leaving him to be an orphan. That was my childhood, won’t do it to him. So, I pawned what I could, hoping to get a good fight, to win, and it just, I never, I just ran out of money and time.”
“You got a name?”
“Lothar Kuthbrook,” he said. “My son is Sven.”
“Clyde Hatchett.”
Titus swung around and dropped off three plates overflowing with food. Large slabs of ham, big clumps of eggs, and a giant mound of potatoes. And three mugs of milk followed right behind in the arms of his wife.
“Enjoy,” Titus said and gave me a big smile.
I didn’t wait for either of the two to say anything, I just started eating. Talking was not an activity I wanted to engage in, not at that moment. There were just too many things to think about, too many things to make happen. Far easier to just shovel eggs and potatoes and ham into my mouth instead.
“Thank you,” came a wee tiny little voice, and I looked over to see the big eyes on me, a small smile on his face as he chewed a potato.
“You are very welcome,” I said. “And eat up while your dad and I do a little talking, okay?”
He nodded.
His father gave me a smile, but one that was filled with a measure of caution and disbelief.
“What is it you want to do?” I asked.
“Give my son a life,” he replied.
“Not get revenge on the guy who did whatever he did to your wife?”
“It is not something a man like me might do.”
“It might be something a man like me could do.”
He shook his head, “It is not a fight you would win. And it is not your fight.”
“Fair enough. If you change your mind.”
“What is going on here?” he asked. “What is it you want from my son or me?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m just, well, I guess, I’m new here, I’m trying to find my way, and I have this big place, and I don’t know what I’m doing with it, so, you know, if you want a job, and you want a place to live, you can have those things.”
“You don’t want my son?”
“No offense,” I said, “kid seems great, but no. That’s not what this is about. This is about having someone around the house to keep it safe, to fix things when they break, and to answer really stupid questions I have that might make no sense.”
“I am not an educated man, I may not be able to answer questions you have.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when it comes around.”
“That is not how I remember that phrase.”
“Yeah, me and phrases have had a falling out.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t worry about it. The second floor apartment is empty. Pretty much. There’s some storage stuff, but nothing else. You can have it, do what you want to it, pretty sure there’s plumbing in there.”
“I was impressed you have running water here.”
“Yeah, that was surprising to me as well. Not common here?”
“Very rare outside of the estates.”
“Huh. I can probably swing a little gold to you as well, just need to figure some stuff out. How much do you think you need?”
“Gold? I suppose enough for food—”
“Let me chat with my buddy here,” I said, “see what I can arrange food-wise.”
I stuffed another bite into my mouth, and got up, walked over and leaned on the bar.
Titus finished putting new mugs behind the bar and pulled a mug of ale and set it in front of me.
“What is it?” he asked.
“How much to add those two to my tab?” I asked.
“They family?”
“No.”
“Who are they?”
“Random dude I saved from a gargoyle last night.”
“You’re that idiot?”
“I suppose so.”
“What’s their story?”
“Down on his luck arena fighter. And kid.”
“You’re taking them in?”
“Yep.”
“And you want to amend the lease so they eat free as well?”
“I didn’t say that, I asked how much.”
“Yeah, well, if you’re taking them in for free, I can’t exactly be the asshole who makes them pay for meals.”
“So he’s on?”
“They both are,” he said, a bit like he was mad he had to be nice. “Can he work the door a time or two? Like holidays?”
“You ask him,” I said.
I smiled at Lothar and his son. “You guys can eat here whenever you want,” I said.
“Whenever?” Titus hissed.
“He’s a growing boy, Titus. Feed him.”
There was a grumble behind me, but I�
�d seen through Titus, he was a big softie.
I walked back over to Lothar and sat down.
“So,” I said, resuming eating, “there it is. Apartment on the second floor, let me know the furniture and I can get something. I think. Just, you know, not made of gold here, just have a little bit set aside. You want to live here or no?”
He blinked a few times, then looked at his son busy shoveling food into his maw, eyes closed in a gluttonous abandon.
“Yes. Thank you, yes.”
Chapter 59
Following the large breakfast, my stomach feeling like it might burst if I moved too quickly, I went back to the apartment and got the body I’d stashed in the second-floor apartment.
When Lothar gave me a look, I just smiled and said, “Two monsters last night, this was the first one.”
“You ever think about fighting in the arena?” he asked. “You seem built for it.”
I gave him a shrug, then waddled along the streets heading to my next gig, pit cleaning. I felt a zing of curiosity. It was going to be a whole new experience, and maybe I’d even get to see the pit beast, whatever it may be. New enemies to kill, which meant more XP, and easier skill raises.
Naturally, I was the first to the new pit. This one was further into the pits, the neighborhood, and everything about it was different from the first pit. The walls were higher and seemed thicker. It was a little older, with some bricks coming out of the wall. There were large spikes coming out of the wall all the way around. Oddly enough, there were also large trees all the way around it, though it looked like someone had sheared the branches off at right angles around an invisible line. Like, perfect. Not a leaf moved over that imaginary line. I had to imagine it to be the effects of magic.
Under one of the trees, right near the gates, was a wagon laden down with something under a canvas tarp. Given the purple hue to the liquid coming out of it, I had a feeling that was my delivery. I hoisted the madarial corpse onto the back and left it there. It still smelled terrible, but my wrap job had been enough to keep its insides from leaking out all over me. Minor win, considering I was about to hop into the poop soup of another pit.
Nadya was next, strolling along with her usual hip sway, looking like a million bucks. Or a million gold pieces, I suppose. She raised an eyebrow at the wagon, then looked over at me.