Ruins of Majesta: Vol. 2.1 Creatures and Cupcakes

by Taj McCoy El

  Mo felt a stinging rap on his head.

  “Didya feel that coming?”

  “No.” Mo rubbed his head.

  “Then you need to keep working at it.”

  “Please don’t hit me again. That dropped me to 29 health.”

  “OY!!! Potion over here!” Bonkers yelled. Mo felt something fly through the air and could’ve reached out to catch it but let Bonkers do the honors. The sound of a glass vial in Bonkers hands filled him with dread and made his stomach queasy.

  Bonkers took his hand and slapped the vial into it.

  “Drink that.”

  “Do I have to?”

  It’s either that or we leave you bloind in the woods.”

  "I think I’ll take my chances.”

  “Oi don’t thinks so. Not after youse saved moy crew. That steam set our eavy’itters on their rumps and we knockers hate carrying a debt. So, drink it up, before I force it down yer throat moyself.”

  Mo pulled the cork and smelled it. It had a floral note to an otherwise narsty bouquet of swamp mud and rotten cheese.

  “You should never smell a potion if youse truly need it.”

  Mo inched the vial closer to his mouth and in a rush downed the potent brew of stomach inverting foulness before his stomach could beg for mercy.

  “Ugh…” he said with a shiver. The warm feeling passed all over his body, and he watched his HP slowly tick up.

  "I feel like I just licked a dead man’s toes dipped in rotten fish juice with a lavender reduction added just to be an off-putting counterpoint.” He tried to wipe the taste out of his mouth with no relief and blinked in disgust. His eyesight had returned but his eyes watered from the horror done to his taste buds.

  “So, what happened?”

  “Same thing’at happened to you. The steam bloinded moy top dogs and things fell all a’shambles. You and Ziggs gave us the moment we needed to get back on our feet you did. oi’m fairly certain even Johnsons gonna forgive youse after that.”

  “Who’s Johnson?”

  “The feller you punched in the…you knows…”

  “Oh… well that would be good. Been feeling kinda bad about for a while now.”

  “Anywho’s, gonna get the lads ready and we’ll get back to Driskel’s, set up camp and make vittles. Oi’ll have Cookie treat you to an afters, yeah?

  ‘Sure,” Mo responded, not knowing what an afters was, but it sounded like it might be fun.

  “Remember, stay sharp. There are more than chickens out here.” Bonkers slapped Mo on a shoulder and moved off

  Ziggs floated over with a Mephi standing ramrod straight behind her. He looked around nervously and found it hard to meet Mo’s eyes.

  Mo put a gentle smile on his face.

  “You wanna talk about it?” he asked. Even Ziggs kept quiet for this one.

  Mephi let the gears turn in his head. When it got awkward, Mo helped out.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to. But don’t let it pull you away from us. My grandpa was a Marine, and he said the battlefield always stays with you, so I can guess at some of it.

  “Even though you guys piss me off to no end, I would still put my life in your hands. We are a family of misfit toys that fit together. Okay?”

  Mephi finally looked at Mo and his mouth moved to form words, but nothing came out.

  Mo slapped him on the shoulder and gave him a big smile. “It’s okay. We got time you, lousy stinker.”

  “Just tell us when you’re ready. And don’t take too long or I’ll beep boop your boopitty beep,” Ziggs said.

  Mephi chuckled. “Stupid trashbot.” Then lightly gonged the robot.

  “There he is!” Ziggs chuckled as well

  Mo chuckled. “Yup, nobody here but us chicken fighters.”

  Mephi and Ziggs Groaned.

  ✽✽✽

  Mayah and Grax argued over how to spend their bank of build points as they all engraved like crazy. Margaret sat there trying to pay attention, but it was beyond her ken. She had played video games at arcades and a few candy-matching games on the early cell phones. but tower defense? That was her late husband's wheelhouse.

  She nicked her finger with her graver and tried to suck the pain out. She couldn’t wait to get more Skill Tree Points so she could take Mayah’s advice and put them into precision. But the break in her engraving let her tune into the ongoing argument.

  “Look we should just put a whole bunch of arrow towers across the front where we know they’ll come through, and then build walls when we’re sure of the spawn points.”

  “Grax, I’m not saying that’s a bad idea. But we don’t know where in the square they’re going to spawn. That’s why I say use the build points for walls to choke them to one side and we do the heavy lifting for the first few rounds. Then we can build more responsibly. Besides once we choke them, we can zig zag them back and forth and make their path as long as possible with towers raining fire on them.”

  "I see your point. But a good offense is the best defense.”

  “If we could capture their base and stop the waves I would agree, but we couldn’t get past the forcefield at the gate and there’s an army gathering out there. We’re packing enough boom to make anything that comes through a single opening suffer. We need to take away their cake walk and straight lines. We have to turn it into a bloody slog where their attrition is so high we’ll be able to sit back and watch them die.”

  She quickly drew the zig zag path that she was thinking of showed Grax. “If we can get then to follow our path, we can use the overwhelming firepower to our advantage. There is no way we can defend against five lanes of attacks in higher levels.”

  “That does look nice. But if we did it your way, we would only have money for four arrow towers.”

  “We don’t even know how effective they’ll be. So that way if we put them all around here,” she circled the entry to the one lane that she had left open, “we’ll be able to focus fire and get more bang for the buck. Depending on their range we may be able to add more on the front line so that when they’re being herded, they’ll be taking fire from both sides.”

  “I’m still not convinced.”

  “Unlike most Tower defense games, we get to go out and fight along. We’ve been able to handle all the weesps they threw at us and we took down the commander as well. So, what we need to do is prep for the harder enemies that’re gonna be mixed in. the only way to do that is to stretch out the amount of area we can attack on.

  “Look even if we only bolster the sides at first, and then wait until we can walk them from one side to the other to build walls, we have a predictable model and can know where the enemy will be. Since we don’t know how strong the enemy will be maxing a straight corridor may cost us. We have to know where they’ll be, and then we can strike to handle any overflow.”

  “Fine. it makes sense to know where they are gonna go.”

  Margaret Shouted, “YES!!!”

  “Really? That happy we figured out a plan, Mags?” Grax asked.

  “Oh. No, I just leveled up my engraving and can add a level in precision. I keep nicking my fingers.”

  Mayah chuckled. Grax just facepalmed and shook his head. “Grandmas.”

  “Speaking of engraving skill trees…” Mayah stared pointedly at Grax.

  “Fine, Sheesh. Give a cat a break princess power-trip.”

  Mayah’s stare intensified, threatening to become a glare.

  “Relax, you’re messing up my mojo. We just talked about this two hours ago. I’m working on it.” He motioned to his vise and gravers and the pile of shavings around them.

  “Work. Faster,” she growled.

  ✽✽✽

  Malcipher and Halsh sat at the table. The untouched food was still in front of them except it was cold and congealed. Only four other solitary patrons remained strewn around the webbed horseshoe. One of these patrons held up three fingers to the barman. The barman grunted and went to the back and quickly returned with two plates an
d three drinks. He calmly set them on the table and removed the old dishes without saying a word.

  Malcipher smirked.

  Two of the figures stood. One went to the door and barred it. The other came to the booth where Halsh and Malcipher sat. They dragged up a chair and sat outside the booth their face hidden in unnatural darkness.

  “So, what brings you gents to place like this? It could be dangerous.”

  Malcipher just smiled and watched as Halsh lazily responded, “We could be dangerous too.”

  “You haven’t touched your food or drink. Some might take that as an insult.”

  "I said I might be dangerous, not stupid.” He pulled a bit of random jerky from his bag and chewed on it at a leisurely pace.

  Malcipher chuckled under his breath. The man looked at him with malice in his glare. This made Malcipher snort a bit.

  “What’s so funny, you?”

  Malcipher could only look away and attempt to stifle his growing amusement.

  Halsh doubled down, “If you don’t mind, we’re waiting on someone and you’re ruining the atmosphere. So why don’t you get your boss and tell them, I’m here. I don’t have time to play with crumbs.”

  The man grumbled loudly, “If that’s the way you want to play it.” He stood up and kicked his chair out of the way, reached over to Malcipher and pulled him roughly out of the booth. His hands gripped the front of the Malcipher’s jacket.

  Malcipher just gave him a smug look. He really was trying to hold the laughter in.

  Halsh took another bite of his jerky. Through the bits of jerky, he said, “You really shouldn’t put your hands on things that don’t belong to you.”

  “Right now, there’s no way out for you. So, I’m gonna crush your friend’s face, and then I’m going to slice yours off.”

  Flecks of spittle landed on Malcipher’s face making him grimace in disgust. The laughter had finally stopped. He wiped his face clean and looked down his nose at the man.

  The man saw Malcipher’s casual reaction to his threats and reacted like all thugs react. The man’s hand flew back and balled into a fist, threatening action to his earlier words.

  With that, Malcipher activated his tattoo.

  The men in the bar who were all watching this interaction dropped like sacks of potatoes. They rolled out of chairs and put one fist on the ground. The barman dropped out of sight but when Malcipher sauntered over to look behind the counter he had one fist down, as well. Halsh had one fist on the table and held his nose an inch above his plate and was straining to keep his face from smashing through the table.

  “Keyes get up.” Malcipher released the grip on Halsh, the man’s head almost crashing into the wall as his muscles finally listened.

  One man however stood in the corner. His daggers were drawn, and he skittishly looked back and forth between Halsh and Malcipher.

  Malcipher cocked his head and studied the young man, whose hood had fallen off. He only said one word.

  “Interesting.”

  The man ran for the door.

  “Keyes, alive please?”

  Halsh, who took a split second to remember that he was Keyes, equipped his bow and drew and fired before the youth could take the ten steps towards the door. An arrow ran through his leg. Enough of the shaft stuck out that upon his next step the arrowhead and a large portion of the shaft snapped against his other thigh.

  He fell in no small amount of pain whimpering and sobbing.

  Malcipher motioned to the whimpering man and said to Halsh, “Gather him up for me, if you could be so kind.”

  Malcipher turned to the counter and knocked on it.

  “Barkeep, I’ll have that drink now. No sleeping potions or poisons in it either. It will be a matter of life and death—for you. You understand?”

  The barkeep nodded subserviently. Malcipher lessened his hold on the man but did not release him fully. He would feel the pressure on him as he poured the drink and that would be enough reminder. Then he had a thought.

  “Make that two. Keyes, you must be thirsty.”

  “Aye, Lord Coad” Halsh responded as he hoisted the man with an arrow through his leg into a seat, and then bound him to it.

  “Now onto more important matters.” Malcipher clapped his hands and slowly rubbed them together as he dropped in front of the ruffian who had placed hands on him.

  “Place your hand flat on the floor.”

  Veins popped out of the man’s neck as he tried to disobey. Malcipher intensified the pressure and he tried to resist the push. He found himself almost in push-up position both hands were now palms down on the floor.

  “Excellent! Now we can begin.” Malcipher asked, “Do you know who I am?”

  “No,” he grunted through the pressure.

  "I am Lord Falx Coad, and I am your new superior.” He intensified the pressure on his new subordinate enough to bow his elbows out, and then eased it back.

  “You do understand, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, good. Now I won’t have to kill you.” Malcipher heard the man’s sigh of relief. Then Malcipher continued.

  “But there is the matter of you placing your hands upon my person. Since you had no inkling who I was, I’ll be merciful. THIS time. But I still demand payment. How much do you think I’m entitled to in damages?”

  "I don’t know Lord Coad,” he whimpered.

  “Hmmmm…well, isn’t this a predicament?” Malcipher pulled out a dagger by the blade and slapped the hilt into the palm of his other hand as he thought.

  “Maybe a pinky?” he asked while placing the point onto his left pinky. The man’s sharp intake of breath made Malcipher smile. “Maybe a pointer finger?” The dagger moved to the pointer finger on the other hand. “Maybe a thumb?” He switched hands again. It’s so hard to choose.”

  "I know, I’ll just take a hand.” The dagger disappeared and a meat cleaver appeared in its place. Malcipher increased the pressure and kicked the man’s elbow out from under him. He toppled to the floor, and Malcipher stood on his forearm brandishing the cleaver.

  “You ready?” he asked the prostrate man.

  “Please, lord, I didn’t know. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I’ll pledge myself to your service. Please, don’t take my hand?”

  “Well, that is an interesting turn of events. Keyes, do you think this man can be of any use to us?”

  “He might be more work than he’s worth.”

  “Oh dear, that doesn’t sound good for you.”

  “Please, lord, I will pay you back the damages tenfold. I will swear my life and the life of my children if live long enough to have any.” his voice rose into a rambling crescendo.

  “Why?”

  “That hand is my life. Without that hand I lose half all my skills and abilities, some would disappear forever. I would die without them. And I would rather die than lose that hand.”

  The cleaver instantly turned into a massive battle axe that fell to the floor with a loud clank against the stone.

  “That can happen, as well.”

  "I do not fear death as a whole man.” there was iron in his voice now. “But I fear wasting away on the backstreets hungry and alone. That’s how my father died and his father before him. So, kill me if you must, but leave me my hand.”

  "I think I’m starting to like this fellow.” Malcipher said to Halsh.

  “T’were a bit better than the whining,” Halsh said making Malcipher chuckle.

  “So, are you going to pledge yourself and your children or are we going to stand here all night?”

  “By the Father, I swear to serve you. My household and my children will serve you. In the name of the father, Ba'alquion, I swear this to you.”

  He was covered in a purplish black glowing nimbus, and then it passed.

  Malcipher released the pressure on his new servant, stepped away from the man, and turned on his heel. The axe rose into the air and screamed downwards. The man, in an exhausted shock, had no time t
o react. The axe disappeared right before it touched his skin. The man quickly pulled his hand to chest.

  “Don’t just lay there. Run along, go and get your old boss.”

  “Yes, Lord Coad.” He rose and made his way to the back of the building.

  The bartender brought the drinks out and hurried away, refusing to meet eyes with either Halsh or Malcipher.

  “You know, Keyes, I’m beginning to like the service here.” He took a long draught of the drink and let out a refreshed, “Ahh.”

  “What about the other fellow, Lord Coad?” Halsh reminded him.

  “What other fellow?” Malcipher pointedly ignored the man still kneeling on the floor and the man with the arrow wound whimpering in the chair.

  “As you say, my lord.” Halsh took a sip of the drink and a satisfied look spread across his face, as well.

  11.7 Turrets, Temples, and Torsos

  Mo walked into the mass of Knockers in Driskel’s yard as they loaded the last of the chickens they had caught into their enclosures. Driskel now had given out a quest to help reinforce the cages with metal bars that had magically appeared from somewhere.

  Mo was too tired to care. Kwaad ran up with a book in hand jotting down his notes on each chicken.

  “Mr Boomstar sir—”

  “Just Booms,” Mo cut him off. Kwaad looked taken aback. Mo sighed. “Yes Kwaad, what can I do for you?”

  “Well, I’ve been extrapolating the different elemental matrices that we’ve recovered and know which ones are still out in the wild.”

  “That’ll help us prepare at least. Send it out to the group chat would ya,” Mo stretched, muscles still sore from exertions and beatings. "I just want to get some food and rest. tomorrow is going to be a big day.”

  He turned to find a place to lay down for a bit.

  “Ummm…” Kwaad said from behind him.

  Mo turned back over his shoulder. “Yes?”

  “How did you get these men to behave so,” he paused to look for the right word, “Civilly?”

  “Ah interesting question. I’ll share a bit of information with you if you can help me skip the chow line later.”