by Robert Bevan
“The road is less traveled on rainy days, and the forest creatures grow more bold in the cover of heavy rain. A small band of ill-equipped men like yourselves may become a prime target for a group of goblins, or an owlbear, or worse yet even.”
“Yeah?” said Tim. “Well if we see your mom out there, we’ll tell her you said hi.”
“Tim!” Dave shrieked.
The glint of silver had apparently not gone unnoticed by Tim.
“I beg your pardon!” said the Kingsguard, placing his hand conspicuously on his sword hilt. The two city watchmen behind him looked at one another with their mouths hanging open.
Cooper made a fist and conked Tim lightly on the top of the head. A light conking from Cooper was still enough to send Tim face first into a horse shit puddle.
“I’m sorry,” Cooper said to the Kingsguard. “He’s my son. He’s a retard.” He wagged a finger down at Tim, who had just pushed himself up out of the puddle. “One more outburst like that, Billy, and I’ll knock that extra chromosome right out of you!”
“Cooper!” Dave shrieked.
“Dude,” said Julian. “Do you have any idea how offensive that is?”
“Huh?” said Cooper.
“You apologize to this nice man right now.”
“No!” said Dave. “That’s not –”
Julian cut him off with an open palm. “Cooper, you apologize right this instant.”
Cooper lowered his giant half-orc head. “I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t know you were retarded.”
Julian buried his face in his hands. “My fault. Good call, Dave.” It was Diplomacy time. Julian lowered his hands and looked up at the Kingsguard, who looked more confused than angry, with sad puppy-dog eyes. “On behalf of our group, I offer you our most humble apologies. My friends mean no offense. We simply –”
Cooper let out a thunderous fart. “My bad. That one’s been brewing for a while.”
For all the rain pounding the ground, there was precious little wind. The toxic gas cloud radiated from Cooper’s ass like slow-motion video footage of a nuclear weapon leveling a city.
“By gods, king, and country!” shouted the Kingsguard. He steadied himself against the gate with his free hand and moved his sword hand up to cover his mouth and nose.
Desperate times. Julian took a knee. “Once again, I sincerely wish to –”
“Just go already!” demanded the Kingsguard. “The lot of you, be gone from my sight at once!”
Dave didn’t need to be told twice. He was clunking down the road as fast as his short, armored legs could take him.
“Thank you, sir,” said Cooper. “If there’s –”
“Shut up, Cooper,” said Julian.
“But I –”
“Not another fucking word. Grab Tim and let’s go.”
When they had put a couple of miles between themselves and the city walls, Dave spoke up. His voice shook a bit, as if he had been building up the courage to say what he wanted to say for a while.
“You know what, Tim? I think that was a dick move, what you did back there.”
Tim patted his hips and chest. “Well let me see if I can find you one of my Fucks-to-Give. Oh shit. Looks like I’m fresh out.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” said Dave, his voice more confident now. “I know you’re not happy here. None of us are. But death isn’t the way I want to leave. I want to go home.”
“How do you know death isn’t the ticket home?” said Tim. “What if, when our characters die, we wake up back in the Chicken Hut, back in our own bodies, and it was all a dream or some shit?”
“Those aren’t dice I want to roll,” said Dave. “And it’s not your decision to make.”
“I’m sorry,” said Tim. “I always get a little cranky after I’ve been electrocuted to the point of pissing myself.”
“It’s cool,” said Dave. “Just try to think of all of us when you lose your shit.”
“I’ll admit I stepped over the line,” said Tim. “But I won’t accept all of the blame. Cooper is the one who shat in the lizardman’s office and called the Kingsguard a retard.”
“I was just trying to be helpful,” said Cooper.
“Well that’s the thing,” said Dave. “Julian got me thinking back at the weapon shop. You’re not supposed to be helpful. Not with words anyway. If a monster attacks us, you can be helpful by beating the shit out of it with your axe. But don’t try to be helpful in a social setting. It will only backfire. You have a Charisma score of 4. If you need to shit, just go outside and shit down your leg like you always do. If you want to say something helpful, just keep your mouth shut.”
Cooper pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. Julian waited for a ‘Fuck you, Dave’, but it never came.
“I must say,” said Ravenus, perched on Julian’s shoulder. “The mood here has grown quite grim. Might I take my leave and hunt for worms? This wet ground should be crawling with them.”
“Why don’t you go scout the area?” said Julian.
“With all of this rain, sir, I can barely see ten feet in front of me.”
“Well go fly around anyway,” Julian snapped. “You’re putting on weight.”
“Why I…!” Ravenus lowered his head and hunched his wings. “Right away, sir.” He flapped off into the rain.
Julian felt bad. He wanted to call Ravenus back and apologize, but he didn’t. He needed some time to sort out his thoughts alone. And, if he was honest, Ravenus had been getting a bit heavier. Some exercise would do him good.
His silent contemplation didn’t last long. The meditative patter of the rain beating the ground was broken by a bovine scream.
“What the fuck was that?” asked Cooper.
“Sounded like a cow,” said Tim.
“That was no ‘Moo’,” said Dave.
They stood around looking dumbly at one another for about ten seconds before Ravenus returned.
“Hey listen,” said Julian. “I’m sorry for what I said about you putting on weight. You know I love you just the way you are, right?”
“Sir, now is perhaps not the best time for –”
“I don’t say it enough,” said Julian. “I appreciate you. You’ve saved my life more than once.”
“I’m afraid we have a situation.”
“I mean, you can fly. And here I am calling you fat.”
“You make a good point, sir, but –”
“What the fuck is going on?” asked Cooper.
“I’m not sure,” said Tim. “I think Julian may be about to pop the question to Ravenus.”
“There’s an owlbear not fifty yards away from here!” cried Ravenus.
“A what?” asked Julian.
“An owlbear!” said Ravenus.
“The Kingsguard back at the gate mentioned owlbears. I meant to ask what they were.”
“Not much to it,” said Cooper. “Pretty self-explanatory really. Just imagine what you get when a bear fucks an owl.”
“You get a bear dick covered in blood and feathers,” said Julian. “A mammal can’t mate with a bird.”
“Why don’t you go over and explain that to him?” said Cooper.
“Well I’m definitely going to go and have a look,” said Julian, taking a step in the direction Ravenus had flown in from. “I mean, how many times in your life are you going to get to see a real live owlbear?”
Ravenus grabbed the back of Julian’s serape with his talons and started flapping backwards. “Sir, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. Owlbears are terribly vicious creatures.”
Julian pulled his serape free of the bird’s grasp. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep my head down. The grass is plenty tall enough to hide in. Who’s coming?”
Dave and Tim shook their heads.
“I’m suddenly feeling a lot less suicidal,” said Tim.
“Someone should go with him,” said Dave. “Just in case.” He and Tim looked up at Cooper.
“I don’t want to see an owlbear,” said
Cooper.
“Then just follow behind him,” said Dave. “Keep him in your sight.”
“Fine,” Cooper grumbled. “Lead the way, Ranger Dick.”
Julian stepped off the road and into the muddy grassland. Grasshoppers exploded out of his way with each step he took.
“For the record, sir,” said Ravenus, flying in tight circles around him, “I’d like to repeat my objection just one more time. This is unnecessarily dangerous.”
“Your objection is noted, Ravenus. I want to see the owlbear.”
“Very good, sir.” Ravenus flew ahead and disappeared into the rain.
When he was about twenty yards away from the road, Julian heard Cooper’s massive footsteps squishing into the mud after him.
Julian stayed low as he pushed aside the tall grass. He’d stop occasionally to poke his head up over it and look ahead, and to glance backwards to make sure he could still see Cooper. On one such occasion, Cooper squatted down when Julian turned back.
Julian immediately followed Cooper’s example and ducked down. He put his hands out to his sides, palms up, and mouthed the words ‘What’s wrong?’’
“I’ve got to take a shit,” said Cooper. “If you want to watch, it’s gonna cost you a gold piece.”
Even with Julian’s giant elf ears, Cooper’s words were barely audible through the relentless patter of the rain. He turned around and started creeping forward again, when Ravenus flapped into view and scared the shit out of him.
“Jesus, Ravenus!”
“A thousand pardons, sir,” said the bird. “I felt I should warn you. The owlbear is just up ahead. Must we really go through with this?”
“I just want to take a peek,” said Julian. “Then we’ll sneak away.” He crept forward carefully, trying to disturb the grass as little as he possibly could.
Finally, he reached his quarry. Even though it was less than thirty yards away, the beast was barely more than a silhouette through the rain. It was bigger than he had expected, standing about eight feet tall. Its body was covered in brown feathers, but it was no true bird. It was more like a gorilla in a chicken suit. Julian wanted to get a good look at its face before he left, but it was buried in the mangled remains of an extremely dead cow.
The straight vertical pattern of the rain stirred as a gentle breeze blew past, providing some relief from the oppressive summer air. The relief was short lived, as it carried with it the scent of Cooper’s shit. Julian gagged. How many times in a single day must one’s nose be subjected to Cooper’s rectal emissions?
The owlbear jerked its head up suddenly, threw away the shredded cow corpse, and sniffed the air. Its beak was a sharp, pointy horror, soaked red with blood that ran down its feathered neck and chest. Its eyes were not like anything Julian had ever seen on a mammal or a bird, or any other creature for that matter. They were two swirling whirlwinds of madness.
Julian ducked down behind the grass, relatively confident that the owlbear hadn’t spotted him, but not so much so that it offered him any sense of comfort. Ravenus was right. This was a stupid thing to do. What the hell was he –
The air shook with a sound that was something between a screech and a roar, like a T-Rex just got kicked in the nuts. Julian crouched as low as he could.
Cooper, having apparently finished his business, stood up. “Holy shit!” He ducked back down.
The owlbear must have spotted at least one of them. The squelch and slurp of its footsteps through the mud grew closer with each step. They were too far apart to be a charge. It felt more like it was investigating something it thought it might have seen. There was only one thing to do. Give it something to see.
“Horse,” Julian whispered. After a small crackling of magic in the air, a gorgeous white stallion stood looking down at him. It blinked as the rain splashed onto its beautiful coat and streamed through its flowing white mane. It let out a small whinny, which Julian guessed was probably horse-speak for ‘The fuck?’.
The pace of the squishy footsteps picked up considerably as the approaching owlbear bellowed its horrible screeching roar.
“Run!” Julian commanded the horse. The horse obeyed, bolting away as fast as it could, cutting a straight path through the tall grass.
Two seconds later, the owlbear stepped into the path of grass the horse had left flattened behind it. Julian held his breath. The owlbear didn’t even turn his way. It ran after the horse, waving its huge feathery arms in a mad rage, like the horse had violated its daughter or something.
When the owlbear was finally lost to the rain, Julian exhaled. Cooper was standing right over him, extending a hand to help him to his feet.
“Thanks,” said Julian.
“Not bad,” said Cooper. “But just so you know… People have been known to use the Mount spell in ways other than finding new and creative methods to murder horses. Hell, some crazy fuckers even ride them.”
“Har har,” said Julian. “That horse is going to be just fine. I’ll admit that owlbear was a lot scarier than I thought it was going to be, but it wasn’t particularly fast. There’s no way it’s going to be able to catch a horse at full gall—“
A horse scream pierced through the rain. It started in high and slowly began to fade. A second later, instead of continuing to fade, it just went completely silent all of a sudden.
“That was weird,” said Julian. “Why did it just cut off like that?”
“The magic horses disappear when they die,” said Cooper. “The owlbear must have bit its head off.”
“That’s impossible,” said Julian. “I saw that thing run. It wasn’t even close to the speed of a horse.”
An owlbear roar thundered through the air, deeper and louder than the one they heard before.
“Fuck,” said Cooper. “He’s pissed.”
“Why?” asked Julian.
“Think about it,” said Cooper. “His lunch just winked out of existence while he was eating it.”
“Is everyone okay?” asked Ravenus, flapping down to perch on Julian’s quarterstaff.
“We’re fine,” said Julian. “How did that owlbear catch the horse?”
Ravenus shook the water out of his feathers. “It didn’t, sir. That was another owlbear. A big one at that.”
“What’s the bird saying?” asked Cooper, who couldn’t understand the Elven tongue.
“He said we’d better get the hell out of here right now.”
Julian and Cooper backtracked down the path of flattened grass they had created. The rain let up just enough so that Ravenus was visible flying above and ahead of them. As briskly as they walked, the presence of wandering owlbears in the vicinity made it feel like forever. Finally, Ravenus maintained a tight, circular holding pattern just ahead of them, and Julian knew they were close to the road.
“So,” said Tim when they finally reunited. “Have you scratched ‘owlbear gazing’ off of your bucket list?”
“This place is crawling with them,” said Julian. “We should get moving.”
The party continued northward through the rain, encountering neither traveler nor owlbear, until they reached a trail veering west off the main road, composed of sun-bleached mollusk shells.
“This is probably the road that leads to the Swamp of Shadows,” said Dave.
Tim pulled out the map Esteban had drawn for them. It was soggy and smeared almost to the point of uselessness. “Good enough for me.”
They followed the shell trail for an hour before the clouds had finally blown their collective load. The patter of rain gave way to the croaks of frogs and the chirps of crickets as afternoon grew into evening. It was only when Dave demanded a five-minute rest that Julian realized how low the temperature had dropped since they began their journey. He actually began to shiver in his rain-and-sweat-soaked serape.
Dave must have felt the sudden chill inside his armor as well, as he was ready to move again in less than five minutes.
Evening turned into night, and the billowy grey clouds allowed a cres
cent moon to peek through, along with a couple of stars. After another hour’s crunching along the shell path, the grassland gave way to a sparse forest of cypress trees. Twenty minutes later it became evident that the path they walked on was now the only solid ground around, rising above stagnant black water on both sides. As they walked further into the swamp, Julian began to pick up a sound that was neither cricket nor frog. It sounded more like… zydeco?