by Robert Bevan
Tim was halfway through his lunchbox when Dave and Julian finally shambled out of the grass like a couple of zombies. Julian had been lying face down earlier, so Tim hadn’t noticed his shiner and swollen jaw.
“Dude,” said Tim. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Fucker hit me,” said Julian, rubbing the side of his face. “I really wish elves weren’t immune to Sleep spells.”
Dave yawned and stretched his thick, stubby arms out. “Does anyone know where we are?”
Tim put his palms up, gesturing to the grass surrounding him. “You and I are in the same boat.”
Cooper stood up and scanned the horizon. “I don’t know,” he said. “There looks to be a break in the grass over there.” He pointed in what, as far as Tim was concerned, an arbitrary direction. “Maybe a river or a road?”
“Ravenus,” said Julian. “Go find Cardinia. Come back and lead us.”
“At once, sir,” said the bird. He flapped his big black wings and took off into the air.
Ravenus returned after only a few minutes, reporting that the break in the grass Cooper had spotted was indeed a road, and that Cardinia would only be a couple hours march from their current position.
“Let’s take this meal to go, guys,” said Tim. “It’ll taste better behind the safety of the city walls.”
“It really is good,” said Dave through a mouth full of something.
“Maybe we could stop at the general store and pick up some more when we get back,” said Julian.
“Good idea,” said Cooper. “I need to buy a jar. I only hope I make it in time.”
The End.
The Creep on the Borderlands
A low level Caverns and Creatures mini-adventure.
(Original Publication Date: August 24, 2013)
“Come on,” Tim said to the anthropomorphic lizard creature across the counter. “That’s a perfectly functional dagger. It’s in pristine condition.”
The lizard monster looked up at Tim through the monocle strapped to its head, magnifying its scaly-lidded eye as well as Julian’s discomfort. “It’s ordinary. Nothing special about it.” It was surprisingly articulate for someone speaking through a mouth full of pointed teeth and a forked tongue. “I’ll give you five silver pieces for it.”
“Julian,” said Tim. “Would you please talk some sense into him?”
Julian waved an open hand in front of the creature’s face. “You’ll give us more than five silver pieces.”
The creature’s lower eyelids swept up over its eyes and back down again. The highly magnified left eye allowed Julian to experience this blink in stunning detail. It freaked him the hell out.
“No,” the creature said curtly. “I will not.”
“What the hell was that?” asked Tim.
“Diplomacy?”
“Bullshit. You were trying to use the Jedi mind trick on him.”
Julian shrugged. “I had to know.”
“Oh, fuck!” said Cooper, who sounded as if he were either impossibly far away while still inside this weapon shop, or behind some kind of concealment.
“Shit,” said Tim. “What is it now?”
“It sounds like it’s coming from my office,” said the lizard creature, removing the monocle from its face. “Why is the door closed?” Its body swayed when it walked, its spine swerving back and forth in a serpentine manner.
“Dave!” shouted Tim.
“Huh?” said Dave from the other side of the store.
“Where’s Cooper? You were supposed to be keeping an eye on him?”
Dave stroked his thick, bushy beard. “Oh, I guess he slipped away while I was checking out these mace heads.”
“Slipped away?” said Tim. “He’s a seven foot tall half-orc barbarian! How could he –”
“Great mother of Sobek!” shrieked the lizard creature, standing in front of his now open office door.
“What happened?” said Tim, rushing toward him. “What did he do?”
Julian followed. A foul and familiar smell filled the air. He was reminded of the Porta Potties at the Hancock County Annual Chili Cook-Off.
The lizard creature stepped aside, fuming. “See for yourself.”
The office was a tiny room, furnished only with a rough wooden desk and chair. Cooper stood, scratching an armpit, to the side of the chair. The wall behind the chair was coated in a splatter of half-orc shit. It was a medley of browns and greens, with a touch of yellow here and there. It had the consistency of pudding… and corn. It might have been mistaken for a work of abstract art by someone lacking both a nose and personal acquaintance with the artist.
“Dude!” cried Tim. “What the fuck, man!”
“Sorry,” said Cooper. “I thought this was a bathroom.” He stuck out a pouty lower lip.
“What could possibly have led you to believe this was a bathroom?” the lizard creature hissed. “The door is clearly marked OFFICE!”
“I can’t read your lizard language,” said Cooper.
“Oh come off it, shit brain,” said Tim. “It’s written in the common tongue.” He turned to the lizard monster and clasped his hands together pleadingly. “He can’t read at all. He’s illiterate.”
Cooper hung his head. “You don’t need to go and tell the whole world.”
“This is no excuse!” said the store owner. “Does that look like a bathroom to you?”
“It kind of does now,” said Dave, having just arrived on the scene with his short dwarf legs.
“Shut up, Dave!” said Tim. “Cooper, how could you think this was a bathroom?”
“I thought this was a toilet,” said Cooper, pointing down at the chair. “It has a hole in it.”
“The hole is in the back of the chair!” said Tim. “Not on the seat!”
“I’ll admit, I had to sit at a very awkward angle, which accounts for some of the height.” Cooper looked up at the highest point of shit-stain on the wall, partially covering an intricately hand-drawn map. “I was going to complain.”
“That hole,” snapped the lizard creature, “is for my tail.”
“Since when do you even seek out a bathroom anyway?” asked Dave. “Why didn’t you just go outside and shit down your leg like you always do?”
“Fuck you, Dave!” said Cooper. “Pardon me for trying to act civilized.”
“Civilized!” screamed Tim. “You sprayed your shit all over the wall of a man’s place of business!”
“It makes sense,” said Julian.
“What’s that?” asked Dave.
“Cooper’s low Charisma score is what makes him so offensive, right? I mean that’s why he’s always pissing and shitting everywhere.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So it only makes sense that if he goes out of his way to be non-offensive, the results are only going to be worse.”
“There’s a certain logic at play there,” admitted Dave.
“We have to get out of here,” said Tim.
“Nobody is going anywhere until justice has been served,” snarled the shop owner, back behind the counter, removing what appeared to be a Samurai sword from an ornate wooden case and placing it casually on the counter as if he was displaying it for a customer. That done, he removed a shiny black pebble from a tiny sconce on the wall. When the stone was removed, a quiet buzz filled the air, like an invisible bee constantly hovering two feet away from wherever you were standing.
“Julian,” said Tim. “Now would be a good time to try Diplomacy again.”
“Come on,” Julian said to the shop owner. “He’s our friend. It was an honest mistake. Surely you don’t mean to kill him for it, do you?”
“Kill him?” said the lizard monster. “Of course not. What do you take me for?”
“Honestly, sir,” said Julian. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to work that out since we got here. Dire iguana?”
“Lizardman,” grumbled the shopkeeper, his scaly lips curving down at the sides.
“Well,” said Tim. �
��So much for Diplomacy. I’m really very sorry sir, but we really have to go now. You can keep the dagger. Come on, guys.” He rushed toward the open entrance of the shop.
A brilliant blue flash of electricity sent him flying backwards through the shop like he’d just bounced off the front of a moving bus. He hit the rear wall of the shop, which Julian now noticed was bereft of weapons, or any sort of decoration at all, save for a drab rectangular leather mat, about an inch thick, hanging from butcher’s hooks on the ceiling about two inches away from the wall. The mat absorbed Tim’s impact like a catcher’s mitt, and he fell gracelessly to the rough wooden floor, where he lay face down sizzling and smoking. His fingernails and toenails were black. His formerly curly hair now spiked straight out, still crackling with residual electricity.
“What the hell was that?” asked Julian.
“Security,” said the shop owner, leaning back and crossing his scaly arms across his chest. “I run a weapons store. A would-be robber could arm himself to the teeth with the very items he intends to steal. It’s important to have adequate security measures in place.”
“Is he dead?” asked Julian, joining Dave and Cooper, who were standing over Tim.
“I doubt it,” said the shop owner, as if the question was whether or not he thought it was going to rain this evening.
“What are you waiting for, shithead?” Cooper said to Dave. “Heal him!”
Dave took a knee and placed his hand on Tim’s. Tiny blue bolts jumped from Tim’s hand to Dave’s. “Yeaow!” cried Dave, pulling his hand back.
“Come on,” said Cooper. “Don’t be such a pussy. Hurry up.”
Dave cautiously placed his index finger near Tim’s hand. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he inched it closer and closer. When they finally touched, Dave sighed with relief. “I heal thee.”
A puddle of piss began to spread from beneath Tim’s crotch area. He groaned as he sat up. “Where am I?”
“Sorry about that,” said the lizardman. “I recommend you all just sit tight until the authorities arrive. I just happen to be close personal friends with –”
“Razorback!” called a voice from outside the shop. “Is it safe to come in?”
“Ah, there he is now.” The lizardman grinned. “Just a moment, Esteban.” He placed the black pebble in the sconce once again and the buzzing stopped. “Please, come in.”
A member of the Kingsguard walked in. That much was evident by his red cloak, silver-plated pauldrons, and matching breastplate, more ornamental than functional. These guys were less common than the regularly patrolling city watch, but well more common than the Elite Kingsguard, who stuck mainly to the palace grounds.
One piece of the uniform that was, to Julian’s best recollection, unique to Esteban was the shiny black pebble hanging from a steel chain around his neck. He tucked it under his breastplate when he caught Julian staring.
“Is there a problem here?” asked Esteban, placing his hands on his hips. “Would-be thieves, is it? Don’t tell me. The elf with the hungry eyes?”
“I was just curious,” said Julian. “I wouldn’t –”
“The dwarf then?” said Esteban. “With the furry arm. Good gods, man! Is that leopard fur? However did you manage –”
Dave crossed his arms, hiding the furry part. “There’s more to me than that, you know.”
“Ah ha!” said Esteban. “It must be the halfling. He looks to have just lost a fight with your security system.”
“What’s going on?” asked Tim. “Who are you?”
“It was the half-orc,” said Razorback.
Esteban rolled his eyes. “It’s always the half-orc, isn’t it.”
“Hey man,” said Cooper. “That’s racial profiling. I could have your badge.”
“What is this giant cretin blathering about?”
“Not a clue,” said Razorback. His forked tongue darted out of his mouth three times in rapid succession. “There’s something peculiar about this group.”
“So,” said Esteban. “What did the half-orc attempt to make off with?”
“This wasn’t a robbery,” said Razorback. “Go have a look inside my office.”
“Stand aside!” For once, the Kingsguard spoke with an authority befitting his rank. Tim, Dave, Julian, and Cooper took a step back.
Esteban opened the office door and quickly shut it again. “Rapha’s light!” he cried. “What foul depths of depravity would possess you to… why, man?”
“It was an honest mistake,” said Cooper.
“Sir?” said Tim.
Esteban turned around and stared at him, his mouth still hanging open in disgust.
“What, exactly, is the penalty for this sort of crime?”
“I honestly have no idea,” said Esteban. “Theft is simple. We remove the offenders hand, or claw, or tentacle, or whatever. This…” He pointed at the office door. “This isn’t even an offense that anyone has thought to put on the books yet, much less think up an appropriate punishment for.”
“Does that mean we’re free to go?” asked Cooper.
“Shut up, Cooper,” said Tim.
“It will be up to the district magistrate,” said Esteban, frowning thoughtfully. “I suppose he may cut off a buttock?”
“Can I choose which one?” asked Cooper. “If it’s got to happen, I’ve got this nasty growth I wouldn’t mind getting –”
“Shut the fuck up, man!” said Tim.
“Esteban,” said Razorback. “A word?”
“Of course, old friend,” said the Kingsguard. He stepped behind the counter.
Razorback spoke in a hushed tone, but not so much so that he could reasonably expect even a pair of human ears not to hear him. “I thought this lot might be right to assist us with our little problem on the borderlands. Hmm?”
Esteban scowled at the group. “Them?” he said to Razorback. “This is a situation which requires delicacy. These men just defecated all over your office.”
“Sir,” said Dave. “That wasn’t all of us.”
“Do shut up, lad,” said Esteban. “The grown-ups are talking.”
“Delicacy is only but one of many possible strategies,” said Razorback. “One might even consider the complete opposite of delicacy as an alternative solution.”
“You have my ear for now, friend,” said Esteban. “But I like not where your words lead. Make haste toward your point.”
The lizardman put his arm around the Kingsguard’s shoulder and led him a step further behind the counter. He whispered something into the man’s ear, his forked tongue flickering about. Tim looked to Julian to see if his huge elf ears were picking any of this up, but Julian shook his head.
Esteban drummed his fingers on the counter. “Intriguing.”
After a little more whispering, Esteban gave the group a gleaming, used-car-salesman grin.
“Gentlemen,” he said. The word slithered out of his mouth like he was vomiting snakes. “How would you like to put this whole messy business behind us?”
Cooper smiled a big, stupid half-orc smile. “I’d like that a lot. Thank you very much.”
“Hang on,” said Tim. “What do you have in mind?”
Esteban sat on the countertop, crossed one knee over the other, and steepled his fingers. “Think of it as a diplomatic mission. It’s a trifle really. Take care of this little job for us, and I think I can convince my reptilian friend here to drop the charges against all of you. What do you say? Hmmm?”
“All of us?” asked Dave. “Cooper was the one who shat on the wall. What would you charge the rest of us with?”
Esteban raised his eyebrows, as if surprised by the question. “You’d be charged as accessories, of course.”
“He shat on the wall!” said Dave. “How could we possibly have accessified… uh… accessorated?”
“Accessorized,” said Julian.
“Thanks,” said Dave. “We didn’t accessorize anything!”
“The halfling pissed on the floor,�
�� said Razorback.
“That wasn’t my fault!” said Tim, stretching his tunic down to hide the wet spot on his pants.
The lizardman grinned, baring his pointed teeth as he casually picked up his very expensive looking sword. “And let’s not forget how the dwarf spilled blood all over my prized Zhou Shin blade.