d6 (Caverns and Creatures)

by Robert Bevan

  “Fuck,” said Cooper. “I don’t know. I was gonna guess fire.”

  “Information,” said Feather Dancer.

  “If you know the enemy, and know yourself,” said Cooper, “you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.”

  The chief stared at Cooper, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. “An astute observation! I believe your friends underestimate your… how did you put it? Intelligence score?”

  Cooper grinned sheepishly. “Thank you, but the observation wasn’t mine. It’s from a book, The Art of War, by Shih Tzu.”

  “It’s Sun Tzu,” Tim snapped at Cooper. “Shih Tzu is a breed of dog, dumbass.”

  “The source of the passage matters not,” Feather Dancer said to Tim. “The wisdom rings true. This is why I value honesty over all other character traits when separating my friends from my enemies.” He turned his head sharply toward one of the blowgunners. “Drockmar!”

  The lizardman at the far end of the table, next to Cooper, stood at attention. “Sir, yes, sir!”

  “Have you ever imagined copulating with my wife?”

  “Four times this very day, sir!”

  “Thank you,” said Feather Dancer. “You may be seated.” He turned back to Tim. “You see, little halfling, there is much I can forgive. But dishonesty, the very act of hiding, distorting, or perverting the information I rely so heavily upon… well that is a grievous offense indeed.”

  “I understand, sir,” said Tim.

  “And yet the very first words you spoke to me, about your friend Cooper, were bald-faced falsehoods.”

  “I was only trying to –”

  The chief slammed his fist on the table. “Your intentions are not important to me!” he shouted. Birds flapped and squawked wildly above, and their droppings splattered on the table. Feather Dancer’s eyes calmed, and he spoke in his normal tone. “My only interest in you is the truth of the information you can provide me. Now let me pose another question to you. Would you prefer to have me as a friend, or as an enemy?”

  “If I’m being completely honest,” said Tim, “I’d prefer to have you as a distant, fading memory.”

  “Ha!” said Feather Dancer. “You see? It’s not so hard now, is it? You will be given an opportunity to redeem yourself, but first, we dine.”

  “Thank Christ,” said Cooper. “I’m starving.”

  Feather Dancer looked at the shaman. “We are ready.”

  The shaman and Boudreaux walked to the back wall of the tent. When the shaman waved his hand, the vines spread apart, revealing there was still more to this vast, living structure. A giant ant, as big as a horse, struggled ineffectively against the tight grip of the vines which rooted it to the ground. They had encountered giant ants before, but this one was different. It’s abdomen was huge and swollen, larger by itself than the rest of its body.

  Tim’s eyes lit up when he saw the ant. Dave licked his lips.

  “Fuck yes!” said Cooper. “We’ve eaten giant ant before. I think it’s my favorite food.”

  Feather Dancer stared quizzically at Cooper. “That’s preposterous,” he said. “We can’t eat the ant. She provides us with eggs.”

  “With what?” said Tim. The brief light in his eyes had gone out.

  Boudreaux and the shaman returned, each carrying an armload of what appeared to be slightly deflated white footballs. They placed one before everyone seated at the table. Julian looked down at his. Something was moving beneath the leathery exterior.

  With the clawed tips of their fingers, the lizardmen at the table sliced open the eggs, revealing the squirming ant-maggot within. Cooper followed their example. Julian, Tim, and Dave, lacking clawed hands, simply stared down at their own eggs. Julian hoped they might be spared having to eat dire-maggots, but the lizardman to his right graciously swapped his own open egg for Julian’s. The lizardmen next to Dave and Tim did the same. Tim looked pleadingly at Julian, his mouth pouty, and his eyes welling up with tears. Julian just gave him a weak shrug, and nodded for him to man up and eat his maggot.

  “It’s not as bad as you think,” said Cooper through a mouthful of larva. “Once you bite the head off, it stops moving, see?”

  Dave picked up his ant-maggot. “I can’t bite it while it’s looking at me.” He turned it around, closed his eyes, and held the back end up to his open mouth. With all of the enthusiasm of someone sawing off their own arm, he bit into it. The thing squirmed violently in his hands as white liquid sprayed out the back of it, all over Dave’s face. Dave bent over and threw up.

  Cooper had just put the last section of his own maggot into his mouth, and nearly choked on it while he laughed at Dave.

  Feather Dancer smiled, but didn’t actually laugh out loud. He and the other lizardmen were happily eating their own maggots. He looked at Tim and Julian. “Something wrong with your larva?”

  Julian decided to take a bite out of the middle of his. He held his tongue as far back in his mouth as he could and brought the wriggling creature to his mouth. As soon as he placed his teeth on it, the maggot began to writhe violently. It was too much for Julian to handle. He put the maggot on the table, wrapped the leathery eggshell around its head, and punched it until he felt it pop. Once it stopped moving, he threw caution to the wind and ripped a huge gouge in its side with his teeth. He chewed without thinking about it, and swallowed quickly.

  Tim held his own larva in front of him. His cheeks were streaked with tears. He closed his eyes and brought the squirmy thing to his mouth. He put it down. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just can’t. It’s a fucking ant-maggot, and I’d rather you just go ahead and kill me right now than eat it.”

  “Can I have yours then?” asked Cooper.

  Tim threw the larva at Cooper, smacking him in the face. “Fuck you, Cooper.”

  “Are you trying to tell me,” said Feather Dancer, “that you don’t like the food we’ve provided you?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you,” said Tim.

  “You might have just mentioned that earlier,” said the lizard chieftain. “I find it astonishing what lengths people will go to in order to avoid being honest. You know, it seems like not so long ago I was having a conversation about honesty. I was –”

  “Okay,” said Tim. “I get it. Sorry. Jesus Christ. You want some more honesty? Here you go. You’re kind of a dick. How about that?”

  “Snaptooth,” said Feather Dancer.

  The lizardman to Julian’s right stood at attention. “Sir, yes, sir!”

  “Fetch a more suitable meal for our guests, would you?” He pointed up. “How about that big pink one. I don’t like the way he’s been looking at me.”

  “Right away, sir,” said Snaptooth. He pulled out his blowgun and fired a dart straight into the belly of a fat pink bird sitting on a branch. The mohawk-like green feathers of its crown stood up straight, and the bird fell off the branch. Ravenus barely got away in time to not be crushed when the turkey-sized bird crashed onto the table.

  “Better?” Feather Dancer asked Tim.

  “Are we supposed to eat it raw?”

  “My, but you’re particular about your food.” The chieftain snapped his fingers. “Boudreaux, be a good lad and take this bird outside and dunk it in the flame-well, would you?”

  “Right away, sir,” said Boudreaux. He grabbed the bird by the neck and ran out of the pavilion.

  “We’re sorry,” said Julian. “It’s just –” Feather Dancer cut him off with a raised finer and a slight shake of the head.

  Boudreaux returned in less than five minutes with a perfectly roasted bird hanging from a hook at the end of a chain.

  Tim tried to rip a piece off, but pulled his hand away as soon as he touched it. He put his hand inside his maggot’s leathery eggshell, using it like an oven mitt, and ripped off a steaming white chunk of bird meat. Julian would have liked to do the same, but the inside of his eggshell was sticky with maggot brain. Tim ripped the legs off the bird and passed them over to Dave and Juli
an.

  “You may be wondering,” said Feather Dancer after slurping down the last of his third giant ant larva, “why it is that you’re here as my dinner guests rather than as my dinner.”

  “It had crossed my mind,” said Julian, “but that wasn’t a flame I wanted to fan. I was happy enough in the knowledge that you weren’t going to eat us.”

  “Tomorrow evening’s menu has not yet been written,” said Feather Dancer, his tongue flicking in and out. “Do you have any recommendations?”

  “If you haven’t tried it already,” said Cooper. “the giant ant itself is really delicious. We weren’t fucking with you.”

  “Shut up, Cooper,” said Tim. He turned to the lizard chieftain. “What is it you want from us?”

  Feather Dancer stood up. “I want the same thing I always want,” he said. “The truth. My men tell me you spoke of Razorback before you took your little nap. I want to know what you’re doing in my swamp, and what your relationship is to my exiled cousin. Now, think carefully before you answer, lest the dwarf and half-orc be introduced to the flame well.”

  “Why just them?” asked Julian.

  Feather Dancer looked distastefully at Cooper. “This one’s filthy, and likely crawling with parasites, and the dwarf is way too hairy. They’ll need to have all of that cooked away. You and the halfling, however, will be a delight to eat raw. I like to start with the feet. Pray you bleed out before I reach your genitals.”

  “I’m a lot hairier than you’d think,” said Tim. He opened the front of his shirt. “See? It’s like a Brillo pad.”

  “They said they’d kill a human child and frame us with the murder if we didn’t cooperate,” said Julian.

  Feather Dancer raised his scaly eyebrows. “They?”

  Julian looked at Tim.

  Tim shrugged. “I don’t think there’s a whole lot of secret left to keep.”

  “Razorback is in cahoots with a Kingsguard named Esteban,” said Julian.

  “We know this,” said Feather Dancer. “They bring us meat in exchange for furs and gator skins. What does any of this have to do with you?”

  “They demanded that we go kill the crazy old guy,” said Julian. “His unpleasantness was causing some of their couriers to ask for more money for their services.”

  Feather Dancer slammed his fist on the table. “Those sniveling, copper-pinching cowards!” He splashed black water as he stomped toward the entrance of the pavilion. “Keep the prisoners here!” he shouted to no one particular guard. “Shaman! With me!” The shaman scurried out after him faster than Julian thought it possible for that fat little lizard bastard to move.

  The waiting was tense and silent. Everyone just sat quietly, picking off a bit of roasted bird here and there. Ravenus pecked on Julian’s discarded ant maggot.

  When Feather Dancer finally returned through the vine curtain about half an hour later, wearing his calm lizard grin, it did little to quell Julian’s anxiety.

  “You’ll have to pardon my outburst earlier,” said the chieftain, taking his seat at the head of the table. “Facts, information, calculated decisions. These are the tools of leadership. Emotions must not be allowed to dictate actions. You have spoken the truth to me, and for that you will be rewarded. I shall see you unharmed back to Cardinia.”

  “Thanks,” said Tim. “I guess being hanged for murder is marginally better than watching a giant anthropomorphic lizard bite my balls off.”

  “You have nothing to fear in Cardinia,” said Feather Dancer. “I assure you. Boudreaux, is my human contact currently in Groulet?”

  Boudreaux stepped forward. “Why yes sir, he is.”

  “Good.” Feather Dancer motioned for the shaman to approach and held out an open hand. The shaman produced a scroll tube from beneath his robe and handed it to him. Feather Dancer, in turn, handed the tube to Boudreaux. “See that he gets this. Be swift.”

  Boudreaux raced out of the pavilion so fast that Julian’s eyes could barely follow him.

  “I have arranged for the local magistrate to be present at Razorback’s weapons shop at midday tomorrow. You tell him what you told me, and they will handle Esteban and Razorback’s treachery appropriately.”

  “What makes you think they’ll believe us over Esteban?” asked Tim.

  “You speak the truth,” said Feather Dancer. “And the truth shall set you free.”

  “Whoa,” said Cooper. “He’s like a lizard Jesus.”

  “That’s not how it works,” said Tim. “People don’t believe the person telling the truth. They either believe the person telling them what they want to hear, or they believe the person they like better. The information we have for the magistrate will be a major pain in his ass, so we won’t be telling him what he wants to believe. And nobody likes us.”

  The chieftain frowned and nodded. “What you say is true. You are by far the most unlikeable halfling I’ve ever met. They’re usually a jolly bunch. But you are not stupid. Neither am I. I know you are unlikeable, which is why I have provided you an edge. Shaman?”

  The shaman handed Feather Dancer a large waterskin.

  “This contains four doses of a potion which will make you more likeable.”

  “A potion of Eagle’s Splendor?” asked Julian.

  Feather Dancer looked at the shaman, who shrugged.

  “Call it what you like,” said Feather Dancer. “If you split it between the four of you just before you enter the shop, it should give you the edge you need to convince the magistrate of your sincerity.”

  Julian accepted the waterskin. “Thank you, sir.”

  “You will always have a friend in the Swamp of Shadows,” said the chieftain. “Feel free to visit any time.”

  Tim bowed his head. “Thank you. I look forward to it.”

  Feather Dancer’s nostrils flared. He crossed his arms, glaring down at Tim.

  “I’m sorry,” said Tim. “I meant to say I’m so glad to be leaving this sweltering shithole, and if I never step foot in this place again, it will be too soon.”

  The lizard chieftain’s glare softened. He smiled. “I appreciate your honesty. Now be swift. My guards will escort you as far as Groulet.”

  The journey back to Groulet was made made easier by two wooden, pole-driven skiffs. Cooper and Tim rode with three of the lizardmen on one skiff. Dave, Julian, and the other three lizardmen rode on the other.

  “Sleep now,” said the lizardman called Drockmar. “You need rest.” These were the first words he’d spoken since confessing to wanting to boink the chieftain’s wife.

  Cooper, Tim, and Dave made no arguments, stretching out on the skiffs and falling out of consciousness almost instantly.

  “And you,” said Drockmar.

  Julian looked up at him. “Oh, elves don’t sleep.” He offered a friendly smile.

  Drockmar didn’t smile. He conversed with the other two lizardmen on the skiff in what Julian assumed was the lizardman tongue. It seemed to be an argument, but it was quickly settled.

  “Elf sleep,” said Drockmar. “Elf sleep now.”

  “No,” said Julian. “You don’t understand. If I could sleep, I’d gladly comply with –” Fuck. The dart hit him in the side of the head. It might have even pierced his skull a bit. That was going to hurt like a son of a bitch when he…

  When Julian woke up, the first thing he noticed was that his head hurt like a son of a bitch. The second thing he noticed was that the sun was up, with just a sliver of sky separating it from the eastern horizon. They were back on the white shell road past Groulet. He was the first one awake. Even Ravenus was still sleeping.

  He tried to shake the sleepiness away, but that only intensified the pain. Shit! The dart was still in there. He plucked it out.

  “I think you dropped something,” he said, holding the dart up to the lizardman on his right, whom he suspected had been the one to blow it into his head. The lizardman grinned and reached down to accept the dart. Julian tossed it into the water. “Dick.”

 
While he waited for everyone else to wake up, Julian meditated for his daily allotment of spells.

  “Wake friends,” said Drockmar. “Time is short. Must hurry.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Julian. “I’ve got transportation covered.”

  Drockmar shoved Dave off the skiff, into the murky water, with his foot.

  “Huh? Shit! What?” said Dave, sitting up. His day had begun.

  One of the lizardmen on the other skiff kicked Cooper in the gut. Cooper farted, but went on sleeping. Tim, who had been right at the receiving end of Cooper’s fart cloud, woke up with a violent cough.