5d6 (Caverns and Creatures)

by Robert Bevan

  “Who else could have done it? You're the rogue, the sneakiest one here.”

  “I'm not fucking Ninja Batman, am I? I can't sneak up on you in a goddamn meadow while you already know I'm here. Besides, you've already cleared me of a motive. Sure, if I had a full flask of stonepiss, I'd happily sit back and watch you swim around in Cooper's piss puddle all day. But we're currently miles away from the nearest source of booze, and your inability to walk is wasting even more of my time which could be better spent drinking.”

  Tim was making a lot of sense.

  “Then who could have...” Dave lowered the twine, and his helmet flew off his head. He looked up to find it floating two feet above him.

  “What the fuck is going on?” asked Cooper.

  “I don't know,” said Dave, still mesmerized by his levitating helmet.

  The helmet jerked to Dave's left, then plummeted through the floating tree stump and splashed into the piss puddle at the bottom of the hole.

  “Hey!” Dave shouted at whatever had just tossed his helmet. “Who are you?”

  High pitched giggles filled the air above him.

  “Were you the ones who put the fake stump there?” Julian called out.

  “The stump!” shrieked a voice like an eight-year-old girl who'd just sucked down a balloon full of helium. “When the dwarf tried to sit, we thought that was the end of it, but you took it soooo much farther.”

  “So that's all it was after all? Just a prank?”

  “We were right the first time,” said Cooper. “They put it there just to be dicks.”

  The disembodied voices giggled again. They all sounded very similar, but Julian's sensitive elf ears could make out the subtle differences of at least three distinct voices, maybe four. But he couldn't pinpoint their exact locations. They seemed to be constantly moving.

  “Dicks!” cried the same voice that had spoken before. “That was the best part. You actually urinated on the dwarf! I've never even thought to do that. Here's a gift from my dick to you.”

  A thin arc of pale yellow urine sprouted out of thin air about ten feet above Cooper's head and hit him in the face.

  “The fuck?” Cooper weaved left and right, but the stream followed him. He sniffed, then poked his purple tongue out between his lips. “This tastes like honeysuckle.” He scratched his head as if distracted by something more pressing than an invisible flying person pissing on his face, then looked up. “Hang on, you're a dude?”

  A tiny floating head appeared about a foot above the urine stream, sporting a bright green mustache curled up at the ends and a long thin beard. “Bingbong Fizzbang, at your service.” A pair of rapidly flapping purple gossamer wings appeared between the head and the piss stream.

  “Fuck you, Tinkerballs!” Cooper jumped and swatted at the semi-invisible creature but didn't even come close to hitting him.

  Julian searched the air for other floating heads but stopped when he spotted Tim, eyes fixed on Bingbong Fizzbang, slowly cocking his crossbow behind his back.

  While Tim was slowly bringing the crossbow around to his front, Julian shook his head vigorously. He’d heard at least three, they thought nothing of using magic on a prank, and this would only escalate the conflict. But Tim missed the signal; he had his eyes locked on his target.

  THWACK

  “FUUUUCK!” cried Tim. The bolt from his crossbow stuck out from his right foot, still trembling from the impact.

  The air filled with high-pitched giggles again. When Julian looked above Cooper, Bingbong Fizzbang was gone. Even his piss stream had vanished. Cooper wiped the piss off his face.

  Dave crawled over to Tim. “Are you okay?”

  “No, I'm not fucking okay. I've got a goddamn bolt in my foot! One of those invisible shitheads pulled my trigger.”

  When Dave reached Tim, he whispered, “You were trying to murder one of them over a prank. What did you expect?”

  “Can we skip the lecture and get on with the healing?”

  Dave frowned at Tim. “I'm going to need to pull the bolt out first. It's going to hurt.”

  Tim took out another bolt, bit down on the shaft, then nodded at Dave.

  Dave nodded back, then held Tim's leg with one hand and wrapped the other around the bolt in his foot. “On three. One.” He yanked the bolt out, and blood gurgled up from the hole in Tim’s foot.

  “YYYNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG!” cried Tim. The front and back of the bolt fell from the sides of his mouth, and he spit out the middle. “Asshole!”

  “I heal thee,” said Dave. Tim's foot wound closed up.

  Tim took a few deep breaths, then hopped to his feet, swinging his fists in the air. “Come on! Show yourselves, you little shitheads!”

  Dave sighed. “You're welcome.”

  Tim eventually stopped swinging and seemed to calm himself. But Julian could see bad thoughts brewing in his head.

  Just as he'd done before, he hid his crossbow behind his back, reloaded it slowly and nonchalantly, then cocked it back. Something was off, though. Tim was smart enough to know that the same trick wouldn't work twice, especially if it hadn't worked the first time, and to also know that their invisible foes would now be keeping a closer eye on him.

  Tim stared at a fixed point in seemingly empty air and ever so slowly moved his crossbow around to his front. His hair fluttered, and he launched a fist into the direction of the breeze.

  “Ugh!” cried a high-pitched voice. It may have been the one who'd pissed on Cooper, but it was too difficult to tell from such a limited sample.

  “Ha!” said Tim. “Fuck you! Take your assholery and go fuck yoursel–”

  Another tiny head appeared a good twenty feet above Tim's head. This one was a woman's. Her short pink hair framed a set of crystal blue eyes. The skin around her left eye was purple and beginning to swell. Her wings, which appeared half a second after, were orange.

  “Shit,” said Tim. “I didn't know you were –”

  The rest of her body became visible. Her clothes were made of pink rose petals, stretched taut in the middle over her conspicuously large belly. No other part of her suggested she was overweight. She held a foot-long bow, and little arrow fletchings were visible over her left shoulder.

  “Fuck,” said Tim.

  The fairy woman glared down at Tim. She looked pissed. Whatever the gestation period was for a fairy, she looked at least eight weeks overdue.

  Tim dropped to his knees and folded his hands. “I'm really sorry. I had no idea you were... But in a way, this is actually your fault.”

  “Tim!” snapped Julian. Tim shouldn't need a bunch of ranks in the Diplomacy skill to know better than trying to turn the blame around on a pregnant woman he'd just punched in the face.

  “If you hadn't fucked with us, I wouldn't have hit you.” Tim's argument sounded like it came straight out of the Domestic Abuser’s Handbook.

  “You were trying to shoot my manfriend,” said the fairy woman. “All because we played a little prank on your friend.

  “Do you mean Mr. Fizzbang?” asked Julian. It was a miracle of Diplomacy that he managed to say Mr. Fizzbang without sounding condescending. “Is he the father?” Getting her to talk about herself might take her mind off wanting to one-up Tim's move.

  “Could be,” said another fairy who completely materialized out of thin air. His wings were pink and his hair was blue. He wore a gown of long white orchid petals and a Fu-Manchu style mustache which was braided with his beard. “Or it could be me.”

  “Or me!” said a fourth fairy. He was smaller than the other three and had curly orange hair. His wings were dark blue and he wore what looked like a hula skirt made out of cosmos petals.

  The other two male fairies laughed.

  “Not likely, Poppin,” said Bingbong. “You have pixie dust all over the inside of your skirt!”

  Poppin's face turned red. “There was plenty more where that came from. You two fell asleep after seconds. I can keep Cricket satisfied for minutes.”

&nbs
p; The other two male fairies scowled as Poppin flew behind Cricket, lifted the rose petal covering her rear, and mounted her in midair.

  Cricket's wings flapped into a blur while glittery fluid dripped down from under her skirt. She smiled at Julian. “Our ways are different than yours.” She paused to moan as Poppin's wings nearly disappeared in their rapid flapping. “We keep no records of lineage. Pixies are all one community.”

  Poppin leaned in close and whispered into Cricket's ear. She nodded, then both of them vanished. The heavy breathing and buzz of flapping wings, however, remained just as audible.

  “Well,” said Julian, not knowing what to say in this situation. “I suppose we should be leaving now. Sorry for the misunderstanding. Congratulations on the baby.”

  “Bye bye, Cricket,” Tim called out to the empty air. The buzz of rapidly beating wings had subsided, so there was no way to tell where any of the pixies were. He turned around and began walking east. “Have fun being a giant whore.”

  Julian clenched his fists in frustration but continued walking so everyone could maybe pretend Tim hadn't just said that.

  “What did you call me?” said Cricket. She rematerialized ahead of Tim. Her face was livid, but a lot more sparkly than it had been just a minute ago.

  Julian's heart sank. They'd been so close. It was like Tim couldn't go more than a minute without being a complete asshole, like it sustained him.

  “He didn't mean that,” said Julian.

  “Of course I didn't,” said Tim. “I was only joking. Surely, Sprinkles McJizzjar can take a joke, right? I mean, she suffered through twenty whole seconds of not having a pixie stick up her twinkle twat in order to shoot me in the foot because I couldn't take a joke, didn't she?”

  The blue haired pixie made himself visible, hovering slightly lower than Cricket and to her left. “You may want to rethink your words.”

  “Or else what? You think I'm afraid of a few obnoxious mosquitoes? I'll take on all three of you one-handed while I stick it to the Cricket.” He looked at Cricket. “What do you say, Crick? You want to see what two inches feels like? Flutter on down here and bend over. I'll show you what –”

  In less than a second, Cricket raised her bow, nocked an arrow, and fired it.

  Tim's hand jerked up to what looked like a cocktail toothpick sticking out of his neck. His eyes rolled up, and he collapsed to the ground and pissed his pants.

  Cooper took a step toward Tim, but Cricket instantly had another arrow nocked and aimed at him.

  The blue haired pixie shook his head. “I tried to warn him.”

  “Is he... dead?” asked Julian.

  Cricket laughed and relaxed her bowstring. “Of course not, silly elf! He's only sleeping. He'll wake up in an hour or two.

  Dave shrugged. “That's probably for the best. Maybe we can make it home without him shooting his mouth off.”

  “You have insulted us,” said Cricket. “You may not return home until justice has been served.”

  “Tim insulted you,” said Julian. “And you shot him.”

  “Twice,” Dave added.

  Julian nodded. “Has justice not already been served?”

  Cricket winced, re-quivered her arrow, and held her bow out to her blue-haired friend. “Hold this for me, Zingo.”

  “Of course.” Zingo accepted the bow, then flew two feet back, giving Cricket some room.

  She put both hands on the bottom of her bulge. Julian could clearly see movement from the inside. The pixie baby must have been kicking up a storm.

  “Are you okay?” asked Julian.

  Zingo smiled sympathetically. “It's just the grubs. Not at all uncommon.”

  Cricket leaned forward and hurled out a stream of sparkly bubblegum pink vomit. “Okay, I'm better now.” She wiped the last tendril from her lips, then tilted upright again. “Now what to do with you?”

  “Make them fetch the Fairyfire Gem!” suggested Poppin. Julian turned around to look in the direction the voice had come from, but Poppin remained invisible.

  Cricket tapped her temple. “Hmmm... I wonder if they have what it takes.”

  “We almost certainly don't,” said Julian.

  Cricket nodded resolutely. “I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Enter the Cave of Secrets and find the Fairyfire Gem. Return it to us, and you shall receive your reward.”

  Cooper pulled his finger out of his nose. “Reward?”

  “Awesome!” said Dave. “Let's go find that gem. Cooper, grab Tim.”

  “How delightful that you're so eager to get started!” said Cricket. “When you have the gem, return here to the stump. Good luck!”

  Julian was about to bring up the fact that they didn't have any idea where the Cave of Secrets was, but Dave grabbed his sleeve and pulled him along. “No time to waste, Julian.” His tone was suspiciously demanding. Julian thought he might have more to say outside the range of pixie ears.

  When the end of the meadow gave way to forest, Dave looked back. The pixies had either turned invisible or left.

  “Can I speak now?” asked Julian.

  “Yeah.”

  “How are we supposed to find the Fairyfire Gem? We didn't even ask where the Cave of Secrets was.”

  “Shit,” said Cooper. “Nice going, Dave.”

  “We're not,” said Dave. “We're going back to the Whore's Head Inn.”

  Julian thought for a moment. “So we just lied to the pixies?”

  “Tim was being a huge asshole, but he was right about one thing. What can they really do about it? If they had any real leverage, they wouldn't have offered us a reward.”

  Julian bit his lower lip. “I suppose that makes sense.”

  “Conjure up some horses and let's get the hell out of here.”

  “Horse!” said Julian, then repeated the incantation twice more. Three horses blinked into existence, saddled up and ready to ride.

  Cooper mounted the biggest horse. He held Tim's unconscious body against his chest with one hand and the reins in the other. Julian and Dave rode separately.

  It wasn't a particularly dense forest, and they made pretty good time, especially considering how dark it was now. Dwarves and Half-Orcs could see in perfect darkness, so Dave and Cooper had no trouble guiding their horses. Julian, as an elf, merely had Low Light Vision, but the moon was three-quarters full and he didn't have much trouble keeping up.

  “Whoa!” said Dave, stopping his horse about an hour into the ride for no obvious reason. Julian and Cooper brought their horses to a halt as well.

  “What the fuck, Dave?” said Cooper. “Don't tell us you need another rest. You're literally sitting on your ass.”

  Dave climbed down from his horse. “I think this looks like a good place to set up camp for the night.”

  “Fuck setting up camp. I don't want to sleep out here. We could be back in Cardinia in two hours.”

  “Excellent,” said Dave, walking over to Cooper's horse. He started unfastening the flap on one of the saddlebags on Cooper’s horse. “I’ll start setting up the tent. Why don't you two tie up the horses and get to work on building a fire?”

  It was one thing for Dave to ignore Cooper, but he was doing it in such a conspicuous way that Julian wondered if something else was afoot. For one thing, they didn't have a tent. They hadn't expected to be out this long. And why would he suggest tying up the horses? They were magically-summoned horses who would obey whatever Julian commanded, and their spell duration had less than an hour to go anyway.

  Julian's curiosity was further piqued when he saw what was inside the saddlebag that Dave had opened. It wasn't camping equipment. It was Tim's crossbow. Julian hopped down from his horse.

  “Here, let me help you with that.”

  “Goddammit,” said Cooper. He grabbed Tim by the back of his vest, lowered him as far as he could, and let him fall the rest of the way. “I'm gonna go take a shit.” He climbed down from the horse and stepped over Tim.

  “Cooper,” said Dave. “B
efore you do that, I could use some help with this knot.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Do I look like a sailor to you? Go fuck a sheepshank.”

  “This is a really tight one,” said Julian. “We could really use your help over here.”

  Cooper stopped and turned back to face them. “I'm gonna be honest, guys. This feels a little rapey.”

  Julian rolled his eyes. “Will you get over here and help us?”

  Cooper trudged over and looked down at the saddlebag, which Julian and Dave were tugging back and forth to mimic the act of trying to untie a knot. “What the fuck are you guys doing?”

  “Don't look now, but there are goblins in the two tall trees just ahead of us. I think it's an ambush.”

  “Huh?” Cooper looked up.

  A cry rang out, presumably in Goblinese. An arrow whirred past Julian's ear. Another stuck in the throat of the horse they were next to. The horse screamed and whipped its head around.

  “Goddammit, Cooper!” said Dave, taking cover behind the horse. “What's the one thing I told you not to – OOMF!” He caught two hooves in the breastplate just before two more arrows pierced the horse in the side.

  The horse vanished, and the arrows, Tim's crossbow, and his quiver of bolts fell to the ground.

  Guilty as it made him feel, Julian took cover behind the horse he'd ridden and squinted up into the trees. He caught a goblinoid silhouette and hoped it was enough of a target for his magic to lock onto.

  “Magic Missile!” he cried, thrusting his palm out. A golden bolt of magical energy flew out of his hand, zoomed toward his target, and exploded in a shower of sparks. A goblin screamed as he fell out of the tree, then abruptly stopped screaming when he hit the ground.

  Arrows were flying in from at least three different directions. Having used up three of his daily allotment of first level spells on horses, he didn't have enough Magic Missiles to make much of a difference against so many enemies.

  Cooper's horse let out half a scream before vanishing.

  “OW!” cried Dave, crawling back to get Tim's crossbow with an arrow sticking out of his ass.

  “I'm really angry!” said Cooper. Goblins shrieked and barked at each other as Cooper's body inflated to half again its normal size.