d6 (Caverns and Creatures)

by Robert Bevan

  Julian fired off another magic missile at a random zombie who didn’t even seem to mind that its shoulder just exploded. “Hey Tim! Where are you going?” He hopped over the log and followed after Tim.

  The four of them converged on the cliff’s edge as their imminent death stumbled excruciatingly slowly toward them.

  Cooper turned around to face the others. The battle rage was gone from his eyes. Fuck. Even Cooper, who had seemingly spent his entire life building a resistance to the psychological effects of failure, had given up. He got down on one knee and spread his arms. “Come on guys,” he said. “How about a hug?”

  “Um, okay I guess,” said Julian, hesitantly lifting his arms.

  Dave pretended not to hear and kept focused on the approaching zombie horde, apparently feeling more comfortable with that than with Cooper trying to hug him.

  “Are you fucking serious?” said Tim.

  Cooper frowned. The sides of his giant lips sagged over his lower tusks. “Don’t be a dick, Tim. Give us a hug.”

  “Fuck that,” said Tim. “I’m going to go out with at least a little bit of dignity.”

  Cooper sighed. “Dignity is so overrated. Well I’m sorry, Tim. I don’t have time for your whiny bullshit right now.” As quick as a wink, he scooped up Tim and Julian in one of his giant leathery gorilla arms, and Dave in the other.

  “Jesus fuck, Cooper,” cried Tim, gagging at the smell of Cooper’s sweaty armpit. “I told you I don’t want –“ He was moving. “Cooper! What are you doing? Sweet Jesus no!”

  Dave and Julian also shouted a barrage of objections and expletives, but Cooper was hearing none of it. He clasped his hands together, locking his friends against his body, and ran toward the edge of the cliff.

  “Get ready, Tim!” Cooper shouted.

  “Ready to die?”

  “Fuck that!” said Cooper, and took a running leap off the cliff’s edge.

  They dropped through the air like a sweaty, foul-smelling stone. Over the roar of the air rushing past them, Tim heard Cooper shit himself. Perfect.

  “What the fuck are you waiting for, Tim?” Cooper shouted. “Turn on that fucking ring!”

  “It’s automatic!” Tim shouted back. “It can’t support this much weight!”

  “Give it here!” shouted Julian. “I’ve got an idea!”

  “Yeah,” said Tim. “Nice idea. Save yourself and let the rest of us fall to our deaths. Here’s an idea. Fuck you!”

  “Trust me!” said Julian. “It’s our only chance!”

  Tim looked down. The ground was rushing up toward them at an alarming rate. He looked up. The first couple of zombies had already jumped off the cliff after them. What did he have to lose? He opened his hand.

  Julian scrambled to grab the ring off of Tim’s finger, nearly dropping it in the process. What a selfish dick. But Tim was surprised to see that Julian didn’t put the ring on his own finger. He wrestled one of Cooper’s fingers free from where his hands were locked together, and attempted to shove the ring on.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” shouted Tim. “You fucking homo!”

  The ring expanded to the size of what Tim might wear for a bracelet. Julian slid the ring onto Cooper’s finger, and a fraction of a second later, the four of them were gliding gently toward the ground.

  “What?” said Tim. “How…?”

  “Feather fall is a first level spell,” said Julian. “I read about it in my spellboo –“

  “Aaaaahhhh!” everyone shouted as they suddenly started to free fall again. An instant later, the ring’s magic kicked back in again.

  “Holy shit,” said Dave. “What the hell just happened?”

  “The ring must have been crafted by a first level wiz—“

  If Julian finished his sentence, Tim didn’t hear it, being too distracted by his stomach leaping up to his throat. They were in another split-second free fall. And then they weren’t.

  “Brace yourselves,” said Julian. “I think this is going to happen once every six seconds.”

  Tim shook off a wave of nausea. “Why the hell would it --“

  Free fall. Glide.

  “The spell only lasts for one round per caster level,” Julian explained. “But it’s permanent on a ring, so it --“

  Free fall. Glide.

  “So it kicks back in,” Julian continued, “after another five foot drop.”

  Tim closed his eyes. “That’s so fucking retarded. This is going to take forev--“

  Free fall. Glide.

  Tim abandoned his previous thought. “So why does it work for Cooper, but not for me?”

  “The spell --“

  Free fall. Glide.

  “The spell allows for the wearer to glide down gently while carrying his maximum weight allowance. You can’t carry the three of us, but --“

  Free fall. Glide.

  “But Cooper is strong as shit.”

  Tim conceded that there was a certain kind of stupid logic in that. He looked up at Cooper’s face. It was unnaturally pale. “Coop. What’s wrong?”

  “I think I’m going to –“

  Tim was braced for the next free fall, but not for the shower of half-orc vomit that came just after it. He and Julian spit out chunks of whatever Cooper had eaten for breakfast. Judging by the taste, Cooper’s breakfast had been a mixture of corn and dog shit. He was about to shout at Cooper again when he saw a dead body fall past, reaching out to grab him. He looked up. “Shit! Cooper!”

  A zombie landed squarely on Cooper’s back and sent the lot of them into a tumble. By the time Tim got his bearings, they’d been through another brief free fall, and Dave was missing.

  “Dave!” cried Tim.

  “Fuck!” cried Dave.

  Tim followed Cooper’s left arm. Cooper held the zombie in a wrist lock, and Dave was holding onto the zombie’s leg. “Hang on, Dave!”

  Zombies were raining down all around them. The ground was a whole lot closer now, and Tim could see the bodies smashing into the rocky ground below, kicking up tiny explosions of dust and debris.

  The zombie dug its long fingernails into Cooper’s wrist, and Cooper dug his claws into the zombie’s wrist. The next free fall gave the zombie a jerk, and Cooper clawed straight through the decayed flesh. Tim heard the sound of cracking bone. The next free fall was going to leave the zombie short one hand and send Dave falling to his death with the rest of it.

  Tim shouted as loud as he could. “Take off the ring, Cooper!”

  “What?”

  “Just fucking do it! We’ve only got one shot at this!”

  Cooper pulled up his arm to where Tim could reach his hand. As Tim grabbed the ring, the zombies hand snapped completely off, and everyone was in a full free fall once again. Cooper lost his grip, and Tim found himself falling through the air alone with the ring.

  The ground was racing up toward them. Tim could now hear the zombies crashing into the ground. Cooper was still holding onto Julian, and Dave climbed up the zombie’s back as they fell. Cooper caught them both in his bloody left arm and hugged tightly. Tim guided the path of his fall toward Cooper, trying his best to minimize his wind resistance.

  He reached Cooper, wrapped his arms and legs around his thigh, and passed the ring up to Julian, who slipped it back on Cooper’s finger.

  They were only about a hundred feet in the air when they began to glide again. Cooper screamed as the zombie bit into his face, but he held on. There was nothing anyone could do but wait.

  Free fall. Glide. Free fall. Glide.

  The zombie continued biting and Cooper continued screaming. He was rapidly running out of face. He wasn’t going to make it.

  “Dave!” shouted Tim. “Do something!”

  “My hands are pinned!”

  “Heal him, you asshole!”

  “Oh, right!” said Dave. “I heal thee!”

  Cooper’s expression was a mix of agony and ecstasy as the skin on his face grew back even while the zombie continued to eat it. />
  Free fall. Glide.

  “I heal thee!” Dave shouted again. It was an uphill struggle. The zombie appeared to be doing more damage than Dave was healing, but Cooper was hanging on.

  Free fall. Thud.

  Cooper landed on his back with Tim between his legs, knocking the air out of Tim’s lungs. Dave, Julian, and the zombie spilled out of Cooper’s arms and rolled to either side of him.

  Tim let go of Cooper’s leg and sucked in as much air as his flattened lungs would allow. With that he got a generous whiff of the inside of Cooper’s shit-caked loincloth. It was more than he could bear. He curled into a ball and threw up.

  Cooper staggered to his feet. Half his face hung down in bloody tendrils. He stumbled backwards, trying hard to keep his balance. The zombie didn’t look to be in much better shape, but it also managed to get on its feet. They limped toward one another, both seemingly unaware of the bodies exploding on the ground around them.

  Cooper removed the dead hand still digging into his wrist and threw it on the ground. He spat out a gob of blood and phlegm and beckoned the zombie toward him.

  It stumbled forward and took a swing at Cooper with its stump of a right arm. Cooper didn’t have to move far to dodge it. He waited for the zombie to strike with its good arm, ducked out of the way, and grabbed it. He spun the zombie around by one arm like an irresponsible parent. After three rotations the arm broke off at the shoulder and the rest of the body flew through the air toward the cliff wall.

  The dead bastard still had a bit of life left in him. With no hands, it was unable to stand up, but it pushed itself toward Cooper with its legs and opened its mouth wide to dig its teeth in one last time. It never got close. Cooper thrashed the thing with its own arm, swinging down as hard as he could again and again until it stopped moving. And then he thrashed it some more until the arm broke away from the wrist. And then he got down on his knees and punched it until its head was a pulpy mess of blood, brain, and bone fragments. And then he passed out on top of the handless headless mess.

  “Come on, guys,” said Tim. “Let’s get him out of here. It’d be a shame to go through all that and then get hit by an errant corpse.”

  Tim, Dave, and Julian dragged Cooper out of harm’s way. Dave used up the rest of his daily allotment of healing spells, bringing most of the skin back to Cooper’s face and knuckles. He still looked like he’d survived a prison beating, but he was going to pull through.

  Ravenus glided down in a wide spiral on his magnificent black wings. “Glad to see everyone’s doing well.”

  Julian spit out some blood and gave a weak laugh. He and Dave helped Cooper to his feet and started the long walk back to the boozy comforts of the Whore’s Head Inn.

  Tim walked alongside Julian. “Hey, listen. I’m sorry I called you a fucking homo up there.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “I was just upset. I don’t actually have anything against homosexuals.”

  “I’m not one.”

  “Okay, but if you were, I just want you to know that I’m totally cool with that.”

  “But I’m not.”

  “Hey, it’s none of my business, right? I’m just saying, it wouldn’t bother me if –“

  “I want to set the record straight,” said Julian. “I’m not into fucking dudes, my sister, or fat girls.”

  “That’s kind of shallow of you,” said Tim.

  “I’m kind of partial to big girls,” said Dave.

  “I wouldn’t mind having a crack at your sister,” said Cooper.

  “Fuck you guys,” said Julian.

  The End.

  Orcs, Bears, and Assholes

  A low level Caverns and Creatures mini-adventure.

  (Original Publication Date: December 15, 2012)

  "Okay guys," said Julian. "Stop. Just stop." Tim, Cooper, and Dave turned around to look at him. "We're done."

  "What are you talking about?" said Cooper. "We haven't done shit all day."

  "That's exactly what I'm talking about. You said this was supposed to be a half day's journey. We've been walking for hours, and I haven't seen a single landmark referenced on that map of yours. If we turn around now, we can get back to Cardinia before nightfall."

  "The half day's journey could be meant for people on horseback," said Tim. "There's no scale on the map. Even on foot, Dave's a dwarf and I'm a halfling. We've both only got a base movement speed of 20."

  Julian snatched the map from Cooper. "Come on, man! A smoldering volcano? A pyramid? A rock formation in the shape of a lion's head? It's time to face the fact that we've been duped."

  "You haven't played Caverns and Creatures before," said Dave. "In the game world, these things aren't as uncommon as you might suspect."

  Tim wiped the sweat from his brow. "Maybe we missed something."

  "Look around!" said Julian. "What's there to miss? The land barely has any topography. How could we have missed a fucking volcano?" He looked up into the branches of a nearby tree. "Ravenus. You've been flying around. How many volcanoes have you seen today?"

  "None that I recall, sir," answered the giant black bird from where he perched.

  Julian glared up at Cooper.

  "Well?" said Cooper. "Don't leave me hanging. What did he say?"

  "He said you're a moron."

  "Not about me," said Cooper. "About the volcanoes."

  "I've had enough," said Julian. "You guys go chase this wild goose as far as you like. Ravenus and I are going back to the Whore's Head Inn. Come on, Ravenus!" He turned around and started walking northward.

  "Wait," said Dave. Julian turned around. "Here comes a wagon from the south. Let's ask them if anything on the map looks familiar. If they say no, we'll head back."

  Julian pursed his lips and thought about it for a moment. "Fine. I'll do the talking."

  "Of course," said Dave.

  "Cooper, put your axe away. You're offensive enough to look at without it."

  "Good call," said Cooper. He fastened the axe to the strap on his back.

  "And try not to shit yourself or anything while we're talking."

  Cooper's leathery jowls sagged as he frowned. "You know I can't always help that."

  Julian sighed. He walked up and patted Cooper on his huge arm. "I'm sorry, Cooper. I just don't want to spook these guys, you know?"

  "All right," said Cooper.

  "I hate meeting new people," said Julian. "I never know what to say."

  "Just go with the old stand-by," said Tim.

  "The old stand-by is stupid."

  "Do whatever you want. You've got the highest charisma score. You get to be the face of the party."

  "Fine," said Julian. He led the group to the approaching wagon with arms raised in a gesture of peace.

  The man driving the cart slowed his horses to a stop, but kept his hands conspicuously on the reins. He was fat and sweaty. His white hair was tufty on the sides, absent up top, and long in the back. It was the worst mullet Julian had ever seen. His whiskers were just long enough so that you couldn't tell if it was the beginning of an intentional beard, or the result of a couple of weeks' worth of laziness. He took a handkerchief out of the satchel slung over his shoulder and wiped the sweat off of the part of his head which was best reflecting the sun.

  "Hi ho, friend or foe," said Julian.

  The wagon driver squinted down at Julian and then surveyed the rest of the group. He spit something brown on the ground. "You fellers make a queer group of traveling companions. I don't recall never seein' a dwarf travel all friendly-like 'long side no orc before."