by Robert Bevan
After a moment, it occurred to Julian that most of the commotion had stopped. No more arrows were thudding into the other side of the carriage. The predominant sound in the night air was that of crickets chirping, only interrupted occasionally by the clash of metallic weapons banging together or orcish grunts.
Sometime between four seconds and four hours later, Julian snapped out of a trance. Tim, Dave, and Cooper were looking down at him. Tim didn't look any worse for the wear, but Dave and Cooper were covered from head to toe with splattered blood.
"You okay?" said Cooper.
Julian turned his head and spit. It was pink. "Do I look like I'm okay?"
"You look like shit."
"You don't look much better. What happened out there?"
"We tangled with a few orcs," said Tim.
"You didn't tangle with shit," said Cooper.
"I did my part," Tim snapped back at him. "Anyway, as soon as things started to look bad for them, most of the rest of them ran away."
“Looks like you were right,” said Cooper. “Orcs are just mooks after all.”
"What's up with the guys in the carriage?" asked Dave.
"I don't know," said Julian. "It seems like everyone in this world is a complete asshole to people they don't know."
"That's understandable," said Dave. "It's a more dangerous world than the one we're used to. That sort of mistrust might save your life."
Cooper banged on the side of the carriage with his fist. "Hey! Are you guys okay in there?"
"Go away!" came a muffled voice from inside. It sounded like he was trying not to cry.
"Don't even bother," said Julian. "The guy is a total cockbag. He fucking Magic Missiled me."
Cooper shouted at the shuttered window. "Did you Magic Missile my friend? Not cool, man."
"Your friend killed my father!" No attempt was made to hide emotions this time. His voice was full of fire and venom.
"Shit, dude," Cooper whispered. "Did you kill his father?"
"I most certainly did not!" Julian shouted.
The man inside the carriage broke into a fit of heavy sobbing.
"Poor guy," said Dave. "What can we do?"
Tim shrugged. "We go back to town."
"We can't just leave him here in his grief and a horseless carriage. What if the orcs come back?"
"I was thinking the same thing," said Tim. "They could come back at any time, so we'd better get moving while we've got this window."
"You're essentially condemning an innocent man to death."
"Innocent?" Julian shouted, suddenly finding the energy to accept Cooper's hand and pull himself to his feet. "I've got a fucking hole in my gut thanks to him!"
"Well you shouldn't have attacked his father," said Dave. "You were supposed to be fighting orcs."
"I didn't do shit to his father, you fat fucking –"
A loud caw stopped Julian mid-sentence. Ravenus didn't even bother with language. He just let out a primal bird scream.
Julian was taken aback. "Ravenus?"
"Apologies, sir. But it appears we are no longer alone."
Julian, Dave, and Tim looked southward down the road. The dire bear, still peppered with dozens of arrows in the front, and limping on one of its hind legs, moved cautiously toward them.
"We can lose him in the forest," Dave whispered.
"What about your friend in the carriage?" asked Tim.
"Fuck him," said Dave. "Let's go."
Cooper threw Julian over his shoulder, slamming most of his weight right down on his Magic Missile wound. It was excruciating. But as severe as the pain was, it couldn't hope to match the offense to his nostrils as his head hung so near Cooper's ass.
As short as his legs were, Dave was the first into the trees, and Tim wasn't far behind him. Julian bounced up and down on his bleeding gut as Cooper took up the rear. The bear roared like a stuttering jet engine, shaking the leaves on the trees. But it couldn't hope to move through this dense a forest.
They ran for what seemed like an eternity, what with Julian being in as much agony as he was in. When they felt like they were safely out of harm's way, they stopped to rest. Cooper brought Julian around to his front, carrying him like a newborn baby. This was a massive relief to the pain in his gut, but Cooper's armpit smelled only marginally less offensive than his asshole. The stop was a short one, but when they continued north, they walked.
"I hope that guy in the carriage is okay," said Dave.
"He's fucked," said Cooper. "That's not a carriage to a creature that big. It's a fucking lunch box."
"Still," said Tim, unnaturally cheerfully. "This trip wasn't a total waste of time. I swiped the dead orc leader's money pouch." He held up a small, rough leather bag. "Three gold pieces!"
"Sweet," said Cooper. "I'll take it to that scroll guy in the morning and try to get a better treasure map."
The End.
Shipfaced
A low level Caverns and Creatures mini-adventure.
(Original Publication Date: May 11, 2013)
“You’d be more helpful,” said Dave, “if you just stood out of the way.” He stopped to adjust his grip on his end of the large wooden crate he was holding.
Tim let go and stepped aside. It made little difference in the weight. “Sorry,” he said. “I just want to look like I’m working. You know, it probably wasn’t a good idea for you to wear your armor out here at the harbor.”
Dave took a step backward and tried, unsuccessfully, to blow away a drop of sweat that was hanging off the end of his nose. A rotten plank, one among hundreds nailed haphazardly together to form this rickety pier, creaked beneath his boot. Two inches of waterlogged splinters of wood held together by termite shit was all that stood between him and a watery grave. “This armor is the only clothes I’ve got.”
“Come on, guys,” said Julian, who was carrying the other end of the crate. “Less talking, more walking. My back hurts.” The difference between his height and Dave’s was such that Julian had to stoop while he walked.
Dave continued moving backward, trying not to think about drowning in the sea.
Julian’s familiar flapped down and landed atop the crate they were carrying. “This place is fantastic,” he said. “I feel like I’ve been wasting my whole life out in the forest, scrounging around for dead squirrels and whatnot. The gulls have the right of it. Fish don’t waste any time starting to decompose. They’re lovely!” The sailors and dockworkers who’d obviously never seen such a big raven before, had been spoiling him, throwing chopped bits of fish and squid for him to catch in the air.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Ravenus,” said Julian. If anyone else had said it, Dave would have assumed it was sarcasm. But Julian said it with a warm smile, despite his aching back. He cared more for Ravenus than a man – or an elf – should care for a bird.
“Hey, fuckers!” said Cooper, strolling by with one of the huge crates resting on his shoulder. “Slow down, why don’t you? She’s not due to sail for another few days yet.” Cooper fit right in with the sailors and dockworkers. More than half of them were also half-orcs, though few of them even came close to being as offensive to look at as Cooper. The rest were mostly human, with a scattering of half-elves. As far as he could make out, he was the only dwarf around.
Dave considered telling Cooper to fuck off, but he didn’t have the breath to shout. He had more than adequate breath, however, for grumbling. “I can’t believe we’re living in a fantasy world, and we’re doing manual labor. This is worse than stocking shelves at Grocer Greg’s.”
“It’s better than fighting monsters, isn’t it?” said Tim. “At least here we aren’t constantly risking our lives.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Dave as another board creaked under his weight.
“This wind is annoying the shit out of me,” said Julian.
“I actually find it refreshing,” said Tim. “I’ve always enjoyed the salty sea air.”
“That’s because y
ou’ve got short hair. You wouldn’t enjoy it as much if your hair was blowing all over your face.”
“You should have tied it back.”
“You should blow me.”
“How close are we to the ship?” asked Dave.
“About another thirty feet,” said Tim.
“Okay,” said Dave. “I can do that.”
“Hey Dave!” shouted Cooper, coming back for another crate. Dave closed his eyes and tried to ignore him. “What’s short and fat and full of seamen?” He barely paused before answering his own stupid question. “Your mom!”
A few of the dockworkers laughed.
“How is that funny?” asked Dave, knowing full well he should just continue to ignore Cooper. “It doesn’t even make any sense.”
“It’s a pun,” explained Cooper. “A play on words. You know… semen, sea men.”
“I know what a fucking pun is, you asshole,” said Dave. “But for the joke to work, there has to be a double meaning. It’s supposed to go ‘What’s long and hard and full of seamen?’ so you think they’re talking about a dick, but really it’s a submarine. See? That’s funny because it can be taken two ways. Your joke was just stupid.”
“Mine can be taken two ways as well,” said Cooper. “Your mom is full of sea men, and she’s also full of semen. Both are true.”
“Fuck you,” Dave huffed.
“What’s a submarine?” asked one of the dockworkers.
“I don’t know,” said another. “The dwarf isn’t very funny.”
Dave shook his head and ignored them. It was one thing to mouth off at Cooper, but he didn’t want to start any shit with guys he didn’t know. He couldn’t wait to put this goddamn crate down.
They were only halfway up the loading platform when Dave saw Cooper approaching again with another crate. “This sucks.”
“Quit your bitching already,” said Tim. “You’re almost there.”
“This way, fellas,” said the first halfling Dave had seen, outside of Tim, all day. He stood on a railed platform built around the main mast, holding a clipboard and pointing to the cargo hold. “Just down those stairs.”
“Dammit,” said Dave. “Stairs?”
“Turn around,” said Julian. “Let me go down the stairs first.”
“Okay.”
“Oh my god that’s better,” said Julian as he straightened his back.
“Hey Dave,” said Cooper, who was right behind him.
“Not now, Cooper,” said Dave.
“What’s the difference between your mom and a big bag of shit?”
“Would you just shut the fuck up for once?”
“Yeah, I couldn’t think of any differences either.”
Laughter followed Dave into the cargo hold. Even that little halfling bastard was laughing. Fuck them.
“Okay,” said Julian once they’d reached the bottom of the stairs. “Set it down.”
Dave let go of his end. The crate landed with a thunk and a few clinks from inside it.
“Sounds like glass,” said Tim. “Hope you guys didn’t break anything.”
Dave didn’t give a damn if anything was broken or not. He wiped the sweat from his nose and his forehead. He scratched his cheeks through his beard. He scratched the top of his head. He scratched places that didn’t even itch, just because he finally could. “I’m taking a break,” he said, sitting down and leaning against the crate.
“Good idea,” said Julian. He sat down as well.
“Pussies,” said Cooper. He set down his own crate on top of another one. There were a dozen in all, eleven of which had been hauled up by Cooper. “I wonder what’s in here.” He ran his giant fingers along the lid.
“Cooper, don’t,” said Tim.
“It’s stuck,” said Cooper, pushing up with his thumbs.
“That’s because it’s nailed shut,” Tim explained.
“Huh?” said Cooper as he inadvertently ripped the top off of the crate. “Oops.”
“Dammit, Cooper!” said Tim. “Put that back on right now!”
Cooper’s half-orc eyes went wide. “Booze!” he whispered. He pulled out a purple glass bottle. It had a foot-long slender neck which opened to a round base, somewhere between the size of a cantaloupe and a basketball. It was sealed at the top with an ornate-looking stopper. It looked like top shelf stuff.
“Don’t even think about it,” said Tim. “Put it back right now and put the lid back on –”
The cargo hold suddenly went dark as the hatch slammed shut. Dave’s Darkvision kicked on. Everything was black and white.
Julian stood up carefully, reaching out until he felt a wall. He blindly made his way up the stairs and pushed on the hatch. “It’s locked,” he whispered.
“Great,” said Dave.
Cooper pulled the stopper out of the bottle. It came out with a loud plunk.
“Dammit Cooper,” said Tim, turning his head sort of toward Cooper, but several degrees off. “That better not be what I think it is.”
“They’re not going to miss one bottle,” said Cooper. “Anyway, I’d say they owe us a bottle for locking us in the cargo hold. What if I was afraid of the dark or something? It’s just insensitive.” He took a pull from the bottle. “Hey, that’s some good shit.”
“It sounds like they’re fighting outside,” said Julian.
Dave didn’t need elf ears to hear that. The sounds were muffled, but he could make out screams, swords clanging together, angry shouting. There was definitely a brawl going on outside.
“Sweet,” said Cooper. “Let’s go help.” He took another swig from the bottle.
“Help who?” asked Tim.
“Like I give a fuck. I just want to fight something.”
“What are we going to fight with?” asked Tim. “Our dicks? We left all our weapons at the Whore’s Head.”
“None of that matters,” said Dave. “Because we are on the wrong side of a locked hatch, in the cargo hold of a – what was that?” The floor had been noticeably less still than solid earth since he boarded the ship. That was all a part of being on the water, and Dave hadn’t paid it any mind. But now it was moving in a discernible direction.
“Wha!” said Tim as he fell over. Nimble as he was, he couldn’t see, and the ships's sudden movement caught him by surprise. Still, he rolled with the fall and was upright again in one fluid motion. “What was that?”
“Ship’s moving,” said Cooper. He held the bottle upside down over his head and pursed his lips around the mouth of it, squeezing in his wormy tongue to lap up the last few drops.
“Thanks for the news, shithead,” Tim said to a stack of crates about five feet away from Cooper. Cooper waved to get his attention, but it was no use. “Why is the ship moving? Didn’t you say it wasn’t due to leave for a few days?”
“That’s what the harbormaster told me,” said Cooper. He grinned at Tim flailing his arms around to find a wall, and quietly placed the empty bottle back in the crate, replacing it with a fresh one.
Plunk.
“Knock it off, Cooper!” Tim barely kept his voice below a shout. “We’ve got to find out what’s going on.”
“Maybe they changed their minds?” offered Cooper.
“Maybe they’re trying to get ahead of an approaching storm,” said Julian, hopefully.
“Give it a rest, guys,” said Dave. “You all know full well what’s happened.” From the looks on their faces, they didn’t. Dave spelled it out for them. “We’ve been hijacked by pirates.”
“Sweet!” said Cooper.
“No,” said Tim. “It’s not sweet. They’re going to murder us and use us for chum if they catch us. Also, we have no idea where they’re going. We’ve got two choices. We either stay hidden down here and hope nobody finds us, and then sneak off the ship when it docks somewhere else. Or we try to make a break for it now, jump over the side, and swim like motherfuckers back to the city.”
“I’d sink like a stone in this armor,” said Dave.
“I vote for option two,” said Cooper.
“Fuck you, Cooper,” said Dave.
Cooper let out a long belch.
“You’d have to ditch the armor,” said Tim. “What do you think, Julian?”
Julian walked down the stairs. “I think we’re screwed. That hatch is pretty solid. Cooper might be able to bust through it, but not without alerting all hands on deck that we’re here. We’ll be surrounded before we can jump off the side of the ship.”