Tired of Death

by Neil Hartley

  The others stopped and watched as a bright light sailed slowly through the air like some sort of errant firework. It swung about. Dreth waved at it as it circled his head. The light dodged easily, and moved onto M before stopping suddenly, like a dog scenting a bone. It hung still for a second before heading straight for the Wizard, who moved too slowly. He put his hand out and started to speak, but the light exploded.

  In its place, hovering in the air next to Redthorne, was a figure about as big as Dreth's hand, garbed all in red with a pointed beard and long forked tail, waving a tiny pitchfork.

  "Aha!" it said, and stuck the minute weapon into the baby.

  The baby did what all babies do. It howled.

  "Oh, shit! That's torn it!" said Gerald. "Run!" He followed his own advice.

  There was a shifting in the sand around them, and large pincers began to emerge.

  "Scorpions!" shouted Cuthbert, "Giant scorpions!" He shambled forward at top speed.

  They ran, Redthorne trying to hush the baby, the small red figure hovering over him all the while, cackling.

  Gerald waved madly. "Over here! They won't follow here!" He climbed onto an area of rocky ground.

  Everyone headed for him, but Percy was too slow. A monstrous claw reached out and grabbed him, pulling him back.

  "Help! Help! I'm caught!" He cried, as the scorpion dragged him backwards. A pincer closed, snipping his left leg off. "My leg! My good leg! EEEEeeeehh!" The zombie screamed as he was flipped onto his back, and caught sight of the beast's giant sting flying down towards him.

  There was a blur in the air, and the tail erupted in green goo. Another movement and the claw met with a similar fate. "Come on!" said Dreth, Darkblood in hand. He grabbed the zombie by his remaining leg and pulled him after him, swinging the blade at another of the creatures.

  "My leg! You have to get my leg!" cried Percy.

  "We'll get you another leg! I have one in my bag," said Dreth, dodging a stinger and lashing out with the sword.

  "But that was a good one! I got it from a barbarian," Percy lamented his loss loudly as Dreth darted around the giant creatures, dragging the zombie behind him.

  "Shut up!" Dreth, moving with speed, managed to dodge, evade and hack his way back to the rocky ground, where the others were waiting. The scorpions retreated reluctantly as he did so, returning to feed upon their dead and wounded. One of them took the leg, to the renewed complaints of Percy.

  "That's alright, no need to thank me," said Dreth, wiping gunk of Darkblood. He turned from the zombie, who was lying on the ground and moaning, and faced the small flying figure that had started the whole thing off.

  "What the hell are you?" he demanded.

  "Hheeeehhhhheeee!" said the thing, and disappeared with a pop.

  "Wizard!" Dreth looked at Redthorne for an explanation.

  "It was a Spite," said the mage, still trying to calm the baby.

  "You mean a sprite," said Cuthbert.

  "No, a Spite. I'm afraid we haven't seen the last of it either." Redthorne looked up. "It was attuned to me. Another wizard must have cast it. Maybe the Drow. In any case, it will pop up and interfere with anything I do."

  "Can't you dispel it?" asked M.

  "That's the whole point, I can't. Spites are highly magic resistant. If I start to cast a dispel charm, it will no doubt pop into my face and jab my eyes, or do something to distract me and make the spell fail."

  "There must be something we can do," said Dreth. "We have enough woes as it is, without some malevolent pixie jumping in every time we don't need it."

  "I need rest," said the mage. "Maybe when I'm more awake I'll be able to think of something."

  "Fine." Dreth turned to the goblin. "Where's this waiting area of yours then?"

  "We're nearly there."

  "Come on then. I'm getting tired of this place already."

  Gerald nodded, and they set off once more. Percy hopping along to the rear.

  ~ * ~

  "There," said Sooth.

  Hammath nodded and drew his sword, which gleamed with white light. "Come on then," he said.

  The Elven hunting party, much depleted, walked after him in battle formation. They were badly rattled now. Over half their number had been killed, and Sooth and the others had barely managed to escape the fight with the cat things and the Drow. Even so, they had lost Frell Keeneye.

  They followed Hammath as he walked through the rubble and the bodies, stopping before a large golden throne.

  "Oh now what?" The mage sitting on the chair spat as the elf approached. "Can't a fellow get two minutes of rest without someone tramping through his domain? I should put up a sign or something."

  "Hold foul wizard. I am Hammath, leader of these valiant Elves of light, we are..."

  "Yes yes. They went that way okay? Go away and stop bothering me!"

  "...looking for a baby," Hammath plodded on, aware that this wasn't going as expected.

  "Fine, the baby. Yes, with the wizard and the undead. Go on, you should be able to find them by following the crowd."

  Hammath looked at Marrim Runecaster, who shrugged. "I will allow your life..." he started.

  "Look, just bugger off will you? Before I decide to shove that glowing sword up your..."

  "As you say!" interrupted the elf leader, backing away and making a pacifying gesture with his hand. He turned to his party. "Let's go."

  Leaving the muttering figure behind, they ducked down into a small tunnel...

  ~ * ~

  "The Black lake," said Gerald, "and the er, Black Forest." He looked at Dreth, who was scowling at him. "Hey! Don't blame me okay! That's just what they're called!"

  Dreth looked ahead. The Black Lake lived up to its name. A dark mass of water receding into the distance. To the right, a forest of gloomy and twisted trees loomed overhead.

  "Home sweet home." Gerald rubbed his hands together.

  They walked on into the trees. "Cool place," said Percy, stopping to pick up a branch to use as a crutch.

  "How far goblin?" asked Redthorne, the weariness apparent in his voice.

  "My hut's just ahead. I like to keep on the edge of things," replied Gerald.

  As predicted, the hut soon appeared. A ramshackle mound, made of a variety of different kinds of wood cemented together with mud and moss. The door was set at an angle in a shallow hole in the ground.

  "Come on in," said the goblin, pushing the entrance open. "Honey, I'm home, and I've brought guests!"

  There was no response. "Hmm, must be out," Gerald shrugged. "Here, wizard, you can sleep here." He showed Redthorne to a rather dirty sleeping area.

  The mage unrolled his own mat and fell into it, asleep with the baby next to him as soon as he hit the floor.

  "How sweet," said Percy. "Now, how about that leg?"

  Dreth tossed him his sack. "Actually, I think I ate the last leg a little while ago."

  "What!!??"

  "Sorry." Dreth said, in a not very sincere tone. He turned to Gerald. "So, what do you have in this resort of yours?"

  "Oh, lots of things! Where do you want to go?"

  Dreth considered. "We don't have much time. No doubt our... friends will be hot on our trail."

  "Well, there are many facilities for sure," said Gerald. "We have an alchemist, a necromancer, some shops, all sorts of things. And the port too."

  "I need to find a leg!" complained Percy, looking up from the sack.

  Dreth turned to Sprat. "Sprog, you stay and look after the wizard and the baby. The rest of you, we're going into town."

  "Yes!" exclaimed Percy, hopping up and down excitedly.

  "But Uncle Dref, me wants to go with you," the little zombie moaned.

  "Once the wizard wakes up, you can follow us," said Dreth. "Goblin, which way are the facilities?"

  "Oh you can't miss the main area," said Gerald leading them outside again and pointing. "Just go that way for about five minutes. You'll find a path. Turn left and follow it."

&nb
sp; Dreth nodded. "Let's go then."

  With Cuthbert helping Percy, and M walking beside him, they strode off into the woods.

  ~ * ~

  "That must be it," said M, pointing at a low wall.

  They were on the path, which wound around through the trees. Ahead was what appeared to be a settlement of sorts, surrounded by a wooden barricade. The trail led to a set of double doors.

  As the group approached a goblin stepped out in front of them. It was wearing a battered helmet and holding a short spear. "Halt! Who goes there?"

  "We do," replied Cuthbert.

  "Undead! We don't want your type in here," snarled the guard.

  Dreth stepped up. "What are you implying?" he said.

  "We have our standards! No unauthorized zombies."

  Dreth drew Darkblood, and moved it towards the small figure. "How's this for authorization?"

  The goblin went cross-eyed looking at the point of the blade. "If you kill me, there are many others to take my place," he said.

  "Good, they won't miss you then, will they?"

  There was a blur, a brief slicing noise and a thud. The head of the goblin came to rest at the base of a tree trunk, some distance away from the rest of its body. Dreth sheathed his sword and pushed at the door. "I think my pass was accepted," he said, and stepped through.

  He found himself in a small and bustling village street. Shops and two storey houses built of white stone lined the cobbled road. It all looked very normal, if you overlooked the inhabitants.

  Most were goblins, but trolls, orcs, the occasional ogre and all manner of other denizens wandered around. Dreth thought he saw a demon striding along even. They wandered down the road, heads swiveling from side to side like tourists coming to a big city, until they came to a small square. In the middle was a statue of a dragon eating a fighter of some description.

  Dreth turned the others. "Right then, I suggest we split up. Cuthbert, help Percy find a new leg. M, I think you should try and locate some sort of oracle, or library, see if you can't get some information about yourself."

  "What about you?" asked M.

  "I'm going to wander around. Do you have any gold?"

  M shook her head, so Dreth dug into his pouch and passed over some treasure. "There, that should keep you going for a while. Meet back here in one hour. And... be careful!"

  "Yes dad," said Cuthbert.

  Dreth watched the others go, and then walked a little way along the street until he found what he was looking for. A restaurant. 'The Adventurers' Gizzard' the sign proclaimed.

  He opened the door and strode in. Inside was not overly large, with room for about a dozen tables. Several goblin waiters moved around, serving the denizens seated there.

  "Table for one," he said to an Orc standing nearby, and was led to a seat near the window.

  "Someone will be with you in a moment," the Maitre De said, handing him a menu.

  Dreth nodded and sat down, gazing out of the window which overlooked the statue in the square. He spent several minutes watching the various passers by, enjoying the peace and quiet before he was approached by a scrawny goblin.

  The waiter was dressed in a white jacket with blood stains, old and new, liberally splattered all down the front. "Hello Sir, Madam or Being. My name is Nigel, I will be your server for today. How may I serve you?" He whipped out a notepad and waited.

  Dreth glanced at the menu briefly. "What do you have?" he asked, deciding he couldn't be bothered to read it. "Something decent though, I don't want your goblin muck."

  "You're in luck sir," the waiter said, ignoring the remark disparaging his species. "We have some fresh human virgin, just in, served with Belladonna salad and the dip of the day."

  "Oh yes? And where have you managed to find fresh virgin around here may I ask?"

  "Sacrifice off-cast sir, from the big nobs in the castle."

  "I see." Dreth rubbed his chin. "Very well then. I'll have a portion of thigh."

  "And how would you like your thigh sir?"

  "You cook it? Oh. Well." Dreth considered this unexpected turn of events for a moment. "Medium rare then."

  "Very well sir. Drink?"

  Dreth expelled air noisily and glanced at the list in the menu. "A Screaming Organ sounds interesting."

  "Excellent choice." The goblin made a final note on his pad and waddled off to spit in the meal.

  A surprisingly short time later he returned with a large glass. It was filled to the brim with a red liquid. "Your Screaming Organ sir," he announced, and scampered away to deal with another customer.

  Dreth examined the beverage. There was an eyeball and a piece of pineapple stuck on to a cocktail stick. Some kind of brown substance was smeared around the rim of the glass, though it could have been they just hadn't cleaned it in a while. A portion of finger bobbed in the middle.

  Hardly an 'organ' he mumbled to himself, but took a sip anyway. It tasted pretty much like it looked. Dreth put it down for a moment and considered the flavor. After a minute he decided it wasn't bad, and had another taste.

  He was just finishing it when the goblin returned, staggering under a large covered platter, which he placed in the middle of the table. Taking a moment to straighten himself out, he removed the top with a flourish.

  "Viola! Your thigh sir."

  "I believe you mean, voila!" said Dreth, examining the dish. "A viola is a type of musical instrument, or possibly a kind of flower. Still, the thought is what counts." He waved at his now empty glass. "I almost enjoyed that. Another is in order I think." He glanced at the menu again. "Let's try a 'Slaughter on the Beach' this time."

  "Very good sir," said the goblin. He took the glass with him and withdrew to the kitchen, leaving his customer pondering the meal.

  Dreth poked at the food. It seemed to be authentic thigh, and though he couldn't actually tell if it was from a virgin or not, it looked female human. The meat was surrounded by some kind of plant leaves, which Dreth thought rather distasteful, though there was a side-dish of blood-sauce and sliced heart pieces.

  He tucked in, pausing only to sip at the new drink which was delivered a few minutes later by the goblin.

  "And how is your meal sir?" The waiter asked.

  "Exffllmmt!" Mumbled Dreth, his mouth full of allegedly virgin thigh.

  The server nodded, pleased, and left him to eat.

  ~ * ~

  "Here we are," Percy said. "A necromancer."

  "That's not a necromancer!" said Cuthbert.

  "Ok Mr. I'm-so-clever-I-can-read. What's it then?"

  "It's a blacksmith. It says so up there. S-M-Y-T-H-E." He read the letters out one at a time.

  "Smyth!" Percy hit is forehead with the heel of his hand. "That's the name of the fellow. Come on."

  "I don't think it is," Cuthbert began, but the other zombie was already hopping in to the store. He followed, to find himself in a hot workshop. A stout figure of a dwarf was hammering something on an anvil. "See? Smith. Horseshoes, armor and all that. Come on."

  "Wait a minute," said his friend. "Hey, shorty! A little service here?" Percy raised an arm and jumped forwards.

  The dwarf stopped and eyed the undead warily. "What ya want zombie?"

  "What's your name?" Asked Percy.

  "Smythe. What's it to ya?"

  Percy shot Cuthbert a look of triumph before addressing the store owner. "Master Necromancer, I've a task for you..."

  Cuthbert rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall as Percy explained his need.

  ~ * ~

  Dreth sighed contentedly, picking at his teeth. The meal was now no more than a bone on a plate. Various empty glasses testified to several more cocktail experiments, and he was feeling good about the whole expedition for the first time. Waving over at the goblin, he scanned the drinks menu for one he hadn't tried yet.

  "I trust sir enjoyed the meal?"

  "Very good. Besht thigh I've had in centuries. Now then, I don't beleef...sorry, believe I haff... have tried a Dr
agon Sour yet."

  "I will bring one immediately sir."

  "Make it a double."

  "Of course sir." The waiter scribbled the latest order on the tab.

  Dreth leaned back and rested his hands across his stomach. He felt a bump in his robe, and wondered what it was. Fishing around he drew out the black 'marble' that the little zombie had found in the Runebox. He smiled for a moment, remembering the Orc king's last moments, skewered on the end of his sword. Good times, good times.

  He patted the blade. "You know shword, you're a good weapon. Did I ever tell you that?"

  "You're drunk!" replied Darkblood, slightly muffled in his sheath.

  "Nonono! Really, the besht sword I ever, ever had."

  "Drunk!"

  "I'm sorry sir, did you say something?"

  Dreth looked up to see the goblin place a large glass in front of him. "Wha? No. Never mind." He smiled and lifted the blue colored drink to his mouth, taking a large swig. "Good shtuff. Good good. Meybe a bit shour, I mean sour."

  The waiter looked at him for a second, but then turned and wandered off to serve another client.

  Putting the glass down a moment, Dreth once more examined the black marble, rolling it between his fingers.

  "Exusssse me." A dry voice hissed at him from nearby.

  He looked around. A figure in a hooded robe was sat at the next table. The dark of the cowl hid any facial features, but two white points of light served as eyes. "Do I know you?" asked Dreth.

  "My apologiesss for interrupting your meal. I am Lord Bone, necromancer. Guardian."

  "Good ta meet you," replied Dreth jovially, raising his glass and taking another drink. "I recommend the cocktailsh here, they're really very good."

  "Yesss, ssso I sssseeee. However, I wasss wondering if your gem issss for ssssale. Sssssuch an item would be ussseful to me."

  Dreth glanced at his marble. "You mean thish?"

  "Indeed."

  "You know what it ish then?"

  "But of courssse."

  Dreth leaned forward, a little unsteadily, and smiled. "How about I buy you a drink and we have a little chat?"

  ~ * ~

  M wandered down the street, stepping to one side to avoid being run down by some sort of large four legged beast with three heads. As she did so she noticed a sign over a small store. "A seer?" She muttered to herself. "Well, why not?"