Critical Failures IV

by Robert Bevan

  Katherine jumped down onto the first floor. “Fine. Give me the goddamn bag.”

  Tim handed it over, trying not to look too over-satisfied.

  She leaned down and shook the bag in his face. “This is only for nerd storage. I’m not sleeping in this.”

  All Tim could focus on were her fangs. He nodded his head vigorously. “Good. Good.” He felt terrified of her and for her at the same time. Suddenly, he was overcome with the memory of how he’d felt when he learned of her death. He hugged her leg tightly and tried to keep from crying. “Please be careful.”

  “Oh please.” Katherine ruffled his hair. Her fingers were icy cold, but her touch was gentle. “I’ll be fine. You take care of the rest of these idiots.”

  The next thing Tim knew, he was hugging a giant bat. He freaked out a bit, his whole body shaking as his skin crawled when his sister’s cold, smooth skin grew prickly fur. He let go of her and fell backwards on his ass as Katherine flapped through the hole in the ceiling.

  “You all right, man?” Cooper asked Tim.

  Tim continued sitting on the wet floor and nodded.

  “I’m going after them, too,” announced Tony the Elf.“I’m a ranger. Dave and I can track them.”

  “How the hell are we supposed to track them?” asked Dave.

  Tony the Elf smiled. “I was referring to the useful Dave.”He whistled, and his sheepdog came bounding in from outside.

  “Hmph,” said Dave. “Nice setup.”

  Dave the dog sniffed around until he found the ring of Cooper’s vomit, which he proceeded to lick.

  “Dave!” said Tony the Elf. “Stop that!”

  Cooper and Dave laughed. Tim would normally have joined in, as it was fun to see that condescending prick get put in his place from time to time, but he was still worried about Katherine and Stacy… and even a little bit for Julian, he supposed.

  “How are you going to track them?” Tim asked Tony the Elf. It’s not like they’re leaving a trail of footprints or broken twigs. They’re all flying.”

  Tony the Elf sighed. “I don’t know. We’ll do our best. But it’s just like you said. If the bird is in trouble, Mordred might have something to do with it.”

  “I was just saying that so she’d take the Bag of Holding.”

  “It’s a longshot, perhaps, but it’s the closest thing to a lead we’ve got. In the meantime, I need someone to report back to the Whore’s Head. Tell Frank what happened here, and return with all your character sheets.”

  “I’ll go,” said Cooper. “Without any horses, I’m the fastest option we’ve got.”

  “But you’re too stupid to trust with relaying information.”

  Cooper nodded. “You make a fair point.”

  Tim didn’t want to put anymore distance between himself and his sister, but he couldn’t think of a better alternative. “I’ll go with Cooper. I’m small enough for him to carry without affecting his Movement Speed.”

  Tony the Elf nodded. “Very well.”

  “Excuse me,” said Chaz. “What the fuck are Dave and I supposed to do?Hang out here?”

  Tim took a moment to consider the options. There was only one. “You guys go with Tony the Elf.”

  “Shit,” said Tony the Elf. “Fine. I move at half speed when I’m tracking anyway. I suppose you can tag along with me if you promise to shut up and stay out of my way.”

  “Ooooh!” said Chaz. “Did you hear that, Dave?We get the honor of being able to accompany Tony the Elf!”

  “The Tony the Elf?” said Dave, just as sarcastically.

  “The one and only!”

  “It makes no difference to me,” said Tony the Elf. “Stay here if you like.” He walked out the front door with his dog happily trotting along behind him.

  Dave and Chaz looked at each other, then at the door. “Wait! We’re coming!”

  Chapter 7

  When a half-orc who had introduced himself as Gus went back to the bar to refill his beer, Randy seized the opportunity to take his seat. He wanted a better view of the door leading down to the cellar and figured Gus wouldn’t mind switching seats.

  Randy was having a hell of a time, the best he could remember ever having in his life. He hadn’t been to a party since he was sixteen, and he’d had such a lousy time that it put him off parties for good.

  He looked at his current situation as a chance to reinvent himself. Dennis –Denise– might have as well if he –she– hadn’t been reinvented quite so severely.

  “What did you do before you came here?” asked a dwarf called Burton. He kept his cylindrical helmet on while he drank, claiming it helped keep his beard in check.

  “Nothin’ much,” confessed Randy. “Mostly just sit around, smoke weed, and watch COPS.”

  The whole table erupted with laughter. It was like there was literally nothing he could say that these people didn’t find either mesmerizing or hilarious. It occurred to him, of course, that they could all be laughing at him for reinforcing the stereotype of southern white trash, but he really didn’t think so. He’d been laughed at before, and this felt different.

  “You didn’t get abs like that smoking weed and watching COPS,” said Gus, who had returned to the table apparently unaware of or unbothered by the seating change.

  The gnome who called himself Gorgonzola laughed. “Maybe you two should get a room.”

  “Grow up, Gorgy,” said Gus, suddenly looking as menacing as a half-orc was supposed to look. “Just because I’m gay, it doesn’t mean I can’t compliment a man’s abs without wanting to hose him down with man-sauce.”

  Gorgonzola quickly hid his reddening face behind his mug of beer. “I’m sorry. It was a stupid… I didn’t mean…”

  “It’s cool,” said Gus. “I totally want to hose him down with man-sauce.”

  Everyone at the table, Gus and Gorgonzola included, resumed laughing. Everyone, that is, except for Randy. He was confused and a little scared.

  Was this all for real? Was Gus being serious about being openly queer? Was everyone else really that cool with it? Or did they all have suspicions about Randy, and they were trying to lure him into coming out so that they could berate him? The idea that they’d go to all the effort seemed preposterous. And from what Randy remembered from high school, a gang of bullies didn’t require that level of certainty to slap you with a label and make your life hell.

  Still, Randy kept quiet, nursed his beer, and glanced at the still-closed cellar door.

  “Come on,” said Gus. “Pull out your tube. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Randy felt like a deer in headlights. “I… uh…what?”

  “Knock it off, Gus,” said Burton. “He’s from Mississippi. Your barrage of gayness is freaking him out.”

  Randy tried to find the words to object without actually giving anything up. “No, it… I don’t… It’s…”Shut up, Randy.Shut up, Randy.Shut up, Randy.

  “Gus is talking about your scroll tube,” said Burton. “It should have your character sheet inside it.”

  “Actually,” said Gus. “I was purposefully leaving it open to interpretation.”

  “My character sheet?” said Randy, feeling both genuinely curious and relieved to be able to steer the conversation away from sexuality.

  “Oh my God,” Gus said to Burton. “He hasn’t even looked at it yet.” He looked at Randy. “What are you waiting for? Pull it out.”

  “Where is it?”

  Burton smiled. “Look in your bag.”

  Randy looked down at the backpack sitting on the floor next to his stool. Along with his sword, it was the only other possession he’d come into this world with. An initial glance at the contents within had revealed nothing more spectacular than a change of clothes and some rope. With all of the commotion since he’d arrived, he hadn’t thought to dig any deeper.

  Reaching as deep into his bag as far as his hand would go, he felt a hard metal cylinder. He pulled it out.

  “All right,” said Gorgonzola. “Open i
t up. Let’s find out who and what you are.”

  Randy leaned back as the rest of the table leaned in. He didn’t know exactly how much of who and what he was this tube would reveal, and he wanted to look over it once alone before he showed it to anyone else.

  Burton took the hint and leaned back. “Come on, guys. Give him some space.”

  The rest of the table grudgingly obliged. Randy unscrewed the cap on one end of the tube and found a paper rolled inside.

  He unrolled the sheet and skimmed over a bunch of numbers and statistics which he’d inspect more closely once he scanned the rest of the paper for words like queer, gay, homo, fag, fudgepacker, or anything similar. He paid special attention to a list of Skills on the right side of the paper. It included things like swimming and horseback riding. Once he was satisfied that it didn’t include things like cock-sucking and handjobs, he relaxed a little.

  He looked back up at the top of the page. “It says I’m a paladin.”

  Burton let out a long, low whistle. “Don’t see many of those.”

  Randy looked at Burton. “Ain’t that like a knight?”

  “Yeah,” said Gus. “Think of it like a crusader.”

  Burton laughed. “You better watch yourself, Gus. Make another move on Randy, and he might smite your evil gay ass.”

  Gus smiled. “I’m already smitten.”

  Randy could tell that Gus was toying with him, and his smile was having the desired effect of making him feel uncomfortable, but not for the reasons Gus likely thought it was.

  “Can’t fault you for that,” said Gorgonzola, who Randy was annoyed to discover standing on a stool behind him, looking over his shoulder. “He’s got a Charisma score of 18.”

  “What’s wrong with paladins?” asked Randy.

  “Nothing’s wrong with them,” said Burton. “They’re pretty awesome.”

  “You said you don’t see too many of those. Why don’t nobody want to play them?”

  “You need some pretty high stats in specific ability scores to make a good one,” said Burton. And they’re kind of hard to play because you have to adhere to a strict code of conduct or risk falling out of favor with your god and losing all your powers.”

  “Who’s my god?”

  “Whoever you choose.”

  “Can I choose Jesus?”

  Gus rolled his eyes. “Oh you’re adorable.”

  Burton laughed. “I think you probably need to stay within the pantheon of gods in the game.”

  But even as Burton spoke, the words Jesus Christ appeared in the box labeled DEITY.

  “Holy shit!” said Gorgonzola, still looking over Randy’s shoulder.

  The rest of the table leaned in to look at Randy’s character sheet, and he let them look. His interest had shifted to the cellar door which had just swung open.

  Denise stumbled into the common room with a double-bladed ax in one hand and a large flask in the other. She tilted her head back to gulp down the last of whatever was in the flask. From the state of her, Randy could only assume it was some strong booze.

  Most of the people between Denise and the bar got out of her way, and she shoved aside the ones who didn’t. She handed her flask to Frank and said something that Randy couldn’t hear because of the sudden clamor of bells ringing outside.

  Frank sniffed her flask, nodded his head, and produced a bottle from a shelf above the bar. As he refilled her flask, the ringing of bells grew louder.

  Conversations stopped. Everyone in the bar seemed curious to know what all the bells were about.

  Randy didn’t care about bells. He was focused on Denise, who was stomping toward the front entrance of the building, blind drunk and wielding an ax. Randy didn’t know quite what to make of that, but it couldn’t be anything good. He had to follow her and keep her from hurting herself or another. It was his duty as a friend and as a paladin.

  He turned to address the group at his table and say a hasty goodbye, but they were all gawking back at him.

  “What’s wrong?” said Randy, nearly shouting to hear himself over all the bells. “What’d I do?”

  Gus stared at him, all the mirth and playfulness gone from his face. “You created a god.”

  Chapter 8

  “What are you doing?” Stacy shouted as the carpet soared higher into the night sky. She looked back at the shrinking house, then up at the bright, full moon. A thought occurred to her. “Is this, like, an Aladdin thing? Cause that’s really sweet, but –”

  “Something’s wrong with Ravenus,” said Julian. “We have to find him.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then how do you know anything’s wrong with him?”

  “We can sense each other’s feelings,” said Julian. “Right now, he’s terrified and confined.” He lowered the carpet until they were gliding just above the trees. He peered down into gaps in the foliage. It was clear that he had no idea where to look.

  “What if Mordred’s got him?”

  “Then I’ll kick his ass.”

  “With what?” said Stacy.“A stick?”

  “I’ll figure it out when we find Ravenus.”

  “What was that about you needing to recharge your spells or whatever?”

  “I need to spend fifteen minutes concentrating, and I get all my spells back.”

  “Then do that,” said Stacy. “I’ll drive.”

  “You know how to fly this thing?”

  “I’m awesome, remember?”

  “But you don’t know where to go.”

  “Neither do you. But I know how to optimize the search so we can cover more visible ground in less time.” She was mostly talking bullshit, but Julian didn’t know that.

  Julian nodded. “That sounds good. Okay, let’s switch positions.”

  Stacy crawled to the front of the carpet and grabbed the two front tassels. After a shaky start, she got a feel for how to steer, how to ascend and descend, and how to adjust the speed. She looked back. Julian’s eyes were glazed over. He’d either put his faith entirely in her and was now in a trance, or he’d somehow managed to get stoned in the time it had taken her to get the hang of flying.

  She hadn’t been talking out of her ass completely. They’d be able to see a lot more over open ground than they would with this needle-in-a-haystack-peeking-through-the-trees bullshit. That wouldn’t help them if Ravenus’s captor was actually hiding in the woods, but as long as they had no idea where to look, it was the more logical option.

  Stacy raised the carpet and made for the main road. The forest was kept clear for about ten meters on either side. Spotting nothing noteworthy upon first reaching the road, she was forced to choose a direction. If the captors were heading north, back toward Cardinia, finding Ravenus would be next to impossible once they reached the city. So that was the direction she chose. If she was wrong, she could always double back and hope there wasn’t another large city further south.

  She traveled low, flying just a few feet above the road. It felt safer that way. The carpet they were flying on was no doubt very valuable, and there was no point in giving the whole world a big flying target to shoot out of the sky. Anyway, she might get lucky and spot a campfire through the trees that the bird’s captors had carelessly lit too close to the forest edge.

  Squinting, she peered into the forest on her left, trying to spot any hint of a light source. No such luck. She turned her attention back to the road ahead of her and nearly had a heart attack.

  The beast running at them from the two o’clock position looked like Sweetums, the giant shaggy ogre from The Muppets. But in place of Sweetums’s bulbous orange nose and pouty lower lip, this thing had a beak. When they made eye contact, the creature let out a roar that was something between a goose and Chewbacca.

  Stacy pulled up on the fringe at the front of the rug, just in time to avoid the beast’s massive, clawed hands.

  “What the fuck was that?” she said after she settled on a higher cruisin
g altitude.

  When Julian didn’t respond, Stacy looked over her shoulder, fearing he’d fallen off the back. But he was still there, his concentration unbroken, blissfully unaware that they had nearly been torn apart by some furry, beaked nightmare.

  The creature howled after them. Looking past Julian, Stacy saw that it was still trying to chase them, despite the carpet being faster and well out of its reach. Ferocious thing, for sure, but none too bright.

  Stacy’s heart had only just gotten back to its normal rhythm when Julian spoke up.

  “Turn us around.”

  Stacy looked back at him. “That wasn’t fifteen minutes.”

  “I had to break my concentration because we’re heading in the wrong direction. Please turn around!” There was desperation in his voice. He didn’t like giving direct orders.

  Stacy veered left, then swung the carpet around in a wide arc to the right, making a lightbulb pattern before straightening out southward along the road. “How do you know we were going the wrong way?”

  “Because I can’t feel Ravenus anymore. He’s gone.”

  “You don’t mean he’s…”

  Julian shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think he’s just out of range. We’ll know soon enough.”

  When she got to the point where Julian had told her to turn around, Stacy was impressed with herself for having made a mental note of exactly where that point was.

  “Do you feel him yet?”

  Julian shook his head.

  Stacy smiled. “That means he’s moving southward, probably along this road.”Or dead.

  She increased the carpet’s speed to as fast as it would go, keeping a wary eye out for the bear-bird monster as they flew over the spot where she’d encountered it. There was no sign of it. She chose not to mention the encounter to Julian. He had enough on his mind.

  While Stacy had every expectation that Julian would alert her as soon as he felt his bird’s presence again, she kept glancing back at him, just to make sure. Each time he looked a little more worried than the last.