“Slip didn’t make the ground flammable for the game,” Tom muttered. “I could think of all sorts of ways to make that work for us.
“Probably why it wasn’t flammable in the game,” Harry snorted. “We would have abused that.”
“That’s it for me. I don’t get a special ability because of my race,” Dick shrugged.
“You sure?” Tom said. “Half-elves got the bonus starting ability or an increase to stats. Which did you take?”
Dick paused for a moment. “Oh right, I remember now. I took battle mage. It lets me cast while holding a weapon in my hand, which I did last night. It did something else, too…”
“‘Battle mage: cast while holding a weapon and be able to maintain spells even when injured in combat,’” Tom said. “I remember that ability.”
“Maybe you being a weeb is good for us,” Dick smirked.
The next shovelful of dirt hit Dick in the face. “Oops,” Tom deadpanned.
Harry laughed, “Knock it off you two, we’re digging a grave. Have some respect.”
“That’d be a first,” Tom snickered.
“Our very own mostly functional sociopath,” Dick said, “which is honestly a good thing here. Think about Marie trying to deal with bandits, for instance. She would try to talk with them... hell, most of our group would hesitate. Tom, though, he won’t. Not that you or me would much either, Harry.”
“Speaking of Tom,” Harry said, looking pointedly at the dwarf.
“Oh, wait,” Dick said, “watch this.” Mumbling in a language neither of the other two could understand, Dick motioned at his clothing. The dirt Tom had hit him with vanished. “Occultism at work,” Dick grinned.
“Okay, when we’re out on the trail, you’re going to be so useful with that jinx,” Tom nodded. “Now, about me: I have a number of abilities that are usable twice per day, and one from being a dwarf. Body like iron is from being a dwarf and makes my skin take on the hardness of iron for a brief moment. Hopefully, it’ll stop an attack from hurting me. Fury sends me into a combat state where my attacks can do more damage, and any brawn type thing I try to do is easier. The downside to fury is that when it ends five minutes later, I get fatigued, making me slower and weaker. I can trigger it twice a day, just like my other ability. Clotting blood heals some of the damage I’ve taken, but can only be used immediately after an attack that hurts me.”
“Definitely our tank,” Harry nodded.
“Wait, I’m not done,” Tom grimaced. “I can’t use heavy armor, or any armor, actually. I’d lose the brawler specialty on my body stat, which affects my armor stat. That’s the downside to brawler, but the upside is my fists can do as much damage as many weapons.”
“Like the wild-man class from T&T?” Dick asked.
“Yeah, just like that,” Tom replied. “My character was slated for the weapon specialization in brawling. It gives me bonus damage with my fists, and makes me able to punch metal without breaking my hands. Besides body like iron, I have a passive resistance to poison because of being a dwarf. When I think about it, that probably comes from dwarves loving alcohol.”
“Oh yea, we’re going to be drinking a lot,” Harry winced.
“I’m not going to,” Dick said.
“The water probably isn’t safe to drink unboiled,” Tom said, going back to digging. “Think third world countries from Earth.”
“The standard drink is likely to be diluted beer or wine,” Harry nodded.
“Almost forty years of no drinking, and now this,” Dick grumbled.
“Yeah, but you’re not broken now,” Tom said. “Seems like a fair trade to me.”
Dick shrugged, “Fair enough.”
“Didn’t you do the long character creation, Tom?” Harry asked.
“Yeah,” Tom slowed his digging some. “I picked up a bonus to detect anomalous worked stone, goblin as an extra language, and I should be able to appraise metal work easier.”
“Shit, wish I’d done that now,” Dick sighed.
“I did part of it,” Harry said. “I have giant as a bonus language. When I realized the bonuses weren’t going to help me stab things, I stopped doing the extra.”
“What language are we talking now?” Dick asked. “Sounds like English to me.”
“Except Laurel understood us,” Harry said. “Probably a version of common, or whatever they called it for this game.” Pausing, he looked thoughtful for a second, then rattled off a few words in a weirdly keening tongue. “That was trow.”
Tom smirked and said a few words in a rough, guttural language, “Dwarf.”
Dick’s few words in a musical language made the other two roll their eyes. “That was obviously elvish.”
“I know that when we go up in levels, we get different choices. I wonder how that will work here?” Harry mused.
“I’ll suddenly know one new spell, but if I want more spells, I have to find someone to teach me and it takes fifty hours per spell energy point to learn,” Dick grimaced. “I can only learn one spell at a time, too. If I’m forty-nine hours into learning one and start to learn another, those previous hours are gone and I have to start all over again.”
“Talk about downtime,” Tom whistled. “Damn, man.”
“Marie has spells,” Harry said. “I wonder if she can teach you hers, at least.”
“A hundred and fifty hours if we don’t have the same ones, and I can’t learn more jinxes from others at all.”
“Well, fuck,” Tom sighed, his head now below the level of the ground as he kept digging. “There goes some easy boosts for you. We’ll need to find a way to make money, too. We have no weapons, no gear, and no armor, not that two of us can use it.”
“How is the grave going?” John called out as he crossed the yard, the sun now up past the horizon.
“Another half hour, maybe,” Tom said.
“Okay, I’ll let the ladies know.” John paused. “Your plan about bringing Kevin back... I’m in. If I can make money, I’ll start setting some aside for emergencies and for Kevin. I just don’t want Marie to face more of those things or worse.”
“You also want to follow your dream,” Dick said bluntly. “There is nothing wrong with that, John.”
“We all want her to stay safe,” Harry added. “You two are good people. It’d be shit if something happened to either of you.”
“Thanks,” John said. Walking away, he sighed, “Just feels like I’m running away from my fears instead of toward my dream.”
Two of the three men watched him go, while the third kept digging.
Chapter Four
The funeral for William was different than any of them expected. Laurel walked out of the barn with Darren, her pace slow, but measured. When she reached the grave, she knelt beside it, looking down at her husband.
“You did what you could to save us,” Laurel spoke in a soft but clear voice. “Every day, you did the best you could to provide for us, to love us, and to protect us. Yesterday, you told me to save Darren, and I did. I’ll help him grow up into the man you were, William. From the light you came, now into darkness you go. May your next life be one of peace and love. Maybe I’ll find you and we can try again.”
Looking at Darren, the five-year-old stepped up next to his mother, sniffling as he looked down at his dead father. “Daddy, I’ll do good, you’ll see. I’ll keep momma safe.”
Rising to her feet and gently leading Darren back, she nodded to the men. Tools in hand, Tom, Dick, and Harry filled the grave in. John began to sing “amazing grace” as the men worked. The song was perfect in pitch and tempo, and the only major departure from the lyrics was the omission of any mention of God.
Darren and Laurel were crying during the song. Marie joined them, her soft sobs breaking the hearts of her friends. Harry and Dick both paused to wipe at their faces at least once during the song. Tom kept shoveling, his face stony, either better at enduring the emotion of the moment or immune to it.
When the grave was filled, Laurel mo
ved forward and carved William’s full name into the tree, along with a dedication.
William Anthony Rand
Loving and dedicated husband and father
Dick looked toward the road, his slightly pointed ears catching the sound of hooves. “Horses coming,” he said, picking up the axe he had taken as a weapon.
“I’ll go look,” Harry said, slipping into the wheat and heading toward the road.
“Shouldn’t we all go?” Marie asked.
“This is his job,” Tom said as he put himself between the others and the road.
Harry was back after a minute. “Looks like four people with a wagon and two horses, probably from the village, and Carl is with them.”
Tom relaxed. “Are you going to the village with us?” he asked Laurel, not sure what she was planning.
“Yes, for a day or two, at least. I’ll need to see if I can get anyone to repair the roof and figure out what I’m going to do about the farm. In another week, it’ll be time to harvest the wheat.”
“I thought wheat was harvested in the fall,” Dick said.
“Twice a year,” she replied. “Summer and fall. Most of it gets sold. It’s what we use to support ourselves, but my husband did most of the work.”
The wagon turned off the road, heading toward the farm. The four villagers visibly relaxed when they saw everyone standing by the large tree. Carl waved to them from the wagon bed.
“Laurel,” the largest of the men called out. “Are you okay?” His eyes locked onto the friends standing near her, clearly uncertain about the strangers suddenly in their midst.
“I’m fine, Gustav. These people rescued me and Darren.” She glanced to the pile of goblin corpses. “William... didn’t make it.” Lips quivering, she looked back at the tree where she had carved the inscription.
Gustav looked away, “That is bad news, indeed.”
“She mentioned wanting to head into the village,” Marie said. “We would be going with.”
“I’ll go gather some things,” Laurel said. “Darren, stay here with Marie. I’ll be right back.”
“Did you need us to load anything up in the wagon?” John asked her.
“No,” Laurel said as she placed Darren’s hand into Marie’s. “I won’t be long.”
The villagers watched the group warily while they waited. Carl jumped down and went over to his companions.
“I spoke with them this morning when they were getting ready to leave, but it looks like gnomes aren’t common here and they were skeptical of my claims.”
“Backwater hicks,” Dick coughed softly.
“How is the village?” Tom asked. “Is there even an inn?”
“There is. It’s not large and they were nice enough to take us in last night, but we have no money. I paid for our lodging by helping clean. Thankfully, I have occultism, so it wasn’t difficult.”
“How is Kattie doing?” Marie asked.
“Not well,” Carl sighed. “My diabetes don’t seem to be an issue anymore, much like Dick and Harry’s problems are gone. Kattie isn’t thinking straight yet, or she’d realize that she’s better off physically here, too.”
“If she ever does,” Tom muttered.
“I know she’s difficult at times, but she is my wife,” Carl said stiffly.
“Only reason most of us put up with her,” Dick replied. “Look man, just consider that she’s going to be exactly the same once she calms down.”
“I know, but we’ve been together for close to twenty years. It would be wrong to let her go now,” Carl said. “What are your plans?”
“Adventuring to raise the money to bring Kevin back to life,” Harry said. “John and Marie are going to find a place to settle down so he can do his music.”
“Best to head to a decent town or city, then,” Carl said, trying again to adjust glasses he wasn’t wearing. “This place is central north on the map. There are big cities out to the west, a couple to the east, and one major empire to the south. Between here and there is a lot of wilderness.”
“Do you remember anything else about them?” John asked.
“You’d be fine to the south, but the empire is a little rough on non-humans. Both the west and east were okay with them, if I’m remembering right.”
“We should go west,” Marie said. “We can go with you and Kattie. The four of us can find work together.”
“Gustav, can I get your help with this bag?” Laurel called out from the cabin, cutting off their conversation. “It’s all I need to take with me for now.”
“Of course,” Gustav said, going to take the large bag. “We’re leaving. If you are coming with us, then grab your things.”
“We have our things,” Dick replied, bracing the axe over his shoulder.
Laurel collected Darren from Marie and got into the wagon. Marie joined her, as did Carl. Once the bag was loaded, they started back toward the village. Tom, Dick, Harry, and John walked along behind the wagon. The four villagers walked beside it, two on each side. John looked introspective, but Dick, Harry, and Tom kept their eyes focused on the fields around them.
It was a couple of hours to the village. Nothing untoward happened during their trek, though they eventually came to the end of the planted fields as well as passing a lot of open ground with light vegetation. In the distance off to the north, a forest was visible.
Approaching the village, the group of friends were less than impressed. A dozen houses dotted each side of the single road. In the middle of the village, two larger buildings dominated the area. One was two-story and had glass in the windows. Across the road was a larger building that was a single story.
“Gustav, I need to speak with the elder,” Laurel reminded the man.
“That’s where we’re taking you,” Gustav replied. Looking at the newcomers, the big man pointed at the other large building. “The inn. You might find lodgings there.”
“Thank you,” Marie smiled. “You made our journey easier.”
Gustav nodded, his stiff demeanor thawing slightly, “Just be careful when you go. If goblins have shown up, the roads probably aren’t safe.”
“We’ll make sure she’s safe,” Dick said.
The villagers halted the wagon between the two large buildings. Laurel and Darren went off to the left, and the group headed for the inn on the right. Gustav watched them until they got inside the inn before he got the horses moving again.
The inn was functional, but that was the best that could be said for it. A handful of tables dotted the taproom, and one wall held a cold fireplace. Behind the bar, a grumpy-looking balding man stood.
“Oh good, the freeloader came back, and with more,” the bartender drawled. “How are you going to pay this time?”
“We have a few coins from Laurel,” Marie said.
The bartender looked at Marie for a long moment before lowering his head slightly. “She’s okay, then?”
“Her and Darren are alive,” John said. “William… didn’t make it.”
“Darkness, that is going to make her life hard,” the bartender sighed. Shaking his head, he looked at the group. “I’ll give you a place to sleep and dinner, but that’s all the charity I can give.”
“Do the villagers come here at night?” John asked, looking at the room.
“Most of them stop in for a drink or two,” he replied.
“Would you like to have an entertainer for the night?” John asked, going over to the small stage in one corner of the room.
“You?”
“Me,” John replied before clearing his throat and singing a quick rendition of “On the Road Again.” Stopping the song after a few bars, he looked at the bartender. “If you have any instruments, I can probably do more than sing.”
“We have a lute that was left behind by a traveler some months back. If you can get the crowd into a good mood, I’ll even give you some coin for your efforts.”
“Fabulous,” John grinned.
Greenways Goblins (Resurrection Quest Book 1) Page 4