3d6 (Caverns and Creatures)

by Robert Bevan

  The result was both immediate and catastrophic. A solid square meter of wall disintegrated into individual blocks and collapsed under the enormous pressure of the lake water, which gushed out with renewed fervor, dragging a helpless Sami over the edge.

  The breach was wide enough now that the water no longer shot horizontally out of it, but rather flowed straight down along what was left of the dam. It was likely that Sami survived the initial fall, but Dave didn’t like his odds against the loosening blocks of stone that continued to rain down on top of him.

  The stone beneath his feet started to wobble, reminding Dave that he was standing on a collapsing dam. Shit! Time slowed down as he pivoted around, trying to save himself. He wasn’t going to make it. He didn’t need his dwarven knowledge of stonemasonry to tell him he was fucked, but he had it just the same, and it only reinforced his conclusion. Dave needed a miracle, and in his experience, miracles were just – right above his head?

  He didn’t question the loop of rope sailing through the air toward him. He just reached for it, catching it below the knot in his left hand. As the stone he had been standing on fell away, the rope tightened around the leopard fur of his forearm. It hurt like a motherfucker.

  “Fuck, you’re heavy!” said Cooper as Dave did his best to avoid scraping his face against stone and jagged mortar.

  When he crawled up onto solid, stable land, Cooper, Tim, and Julian were right there to greet him.

  Dave loosened the rope around his arm and tried to wring out some of the burn. “How did you guys get here so fast?”

  “We were walking behind you,” said Julian.

  “You’re kinda slow,” added Tim.

  Cooper scratched his balls under his loincloth. “That was seriously the most piss-poor battle charge I’ve ever seen. You should be embarrassed by that.”

  “I only have a base 20 Movement Speed,” Dave explained. “And I can’t run while I’m wearing my –”

  “Ravenus!” shouted Julian. He ran off toward Gallus’s dead body, where Ravenus was greedily slurping back one of the dead centaur’s eyes. “Stop that! It’s disrespectful.”

  Ravenus swallowed what he already had in his beak. “I’m very sorry, sir. You can have the other one, if you like.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I just don’t think –”

  “Fuck it,” said Cooper. “We’re all starving. Let the bird eat. I’m still open to thoughts about chopping up this dude’s bottom half. Anyone with me?”

  “That would be… inadvisable,” said Finnean as Lana escorted him slowly toward the party. Lana had a satchel over her shoulder. It was made of kelp and adorned with shells and fish scales.

  “Oh, hey,” said Dave. He looked back at the dam. The breech had grown to about three meters wide. “Umm… sorry about your lake.”

  “Don’t be,” said Lana cheerfully. “It’s supposed to be down there. The centaurs stole that land from us over a century ago.”

  “Aren’t they going to be pissed at you?”

  Lana put her webbed hands up defensively. “Hey, we weren’t even here.”

  Tim scowled at her. “Yeah, we noticed that.”

  “So what are you going to tell them?” asked Dave.

  Lana shrugged. “We’ll blame it on the nagas.”

  Cooper folded his arms and shook his head. “Brothas can’t catch a break!”

  Julian elbowed him in the side. “Knock it off.”

  “Still,” said Finnean. “It would be prudent for you to leave this place before the other centaurs show up.”

  Dave didn’t need to be told twice. “Well, thank you for everything. Good luck.”

  “I got you something,” said Lana. She pulled a fat green fish out of her satchel and tossed it to Dave. It was slippery and flapping, and a little heavier than he expected, but Dave managed to hang onto it.

  “Oh Lana, you don’t know how much –” Dave had an idea. He held the fish up, pinched the sides of its mouth, and did his best Lana-fish impersonation. “Thank you, Lana!”

  Instead of a laugh, his effort earned him a sympathetic smile from Lana and narrow-eyed puzzlement from Finnean.

  Dave decided to have one more try. He pinched the fish’s lips again. “Well, I guess I’ll see you lake-er!”

  Lana looked away, her pale green skin turning pink in the face. “I, um… I just remembered. I’ve got a… thing.” She turned around and dove into the lake.

  Noticing that none of his friends would make eye contact with him either, Dave lowered his fish.

  “Sorry Dave,” said Julian. “It’s just not as funny when the fish is actually gasping for its life.”

  “See you lake-er?” said Tim. “Jesus, Dave. Was that even a joke?”

  Cooper cradled his head in his hands. “Ugh… I feel like my brain just got kicked in the nuts.”

  Dave tucked the fish under his arm. “You guys can all go to hell. I’m not sharing this.” He turned around and started the long walk back to Cardinia.

  He ate the fish raw on his way back to town, but took little comfort in his spiteful selfishness, as his friends walked behind him the entire time, laughing and making water-and-fish-related puns, every one of them better than his.

  The End

  Elf Inflicted

  (Original Publication Date: November 10, 2014)

  Tim sucked the froth off the top of his beer glass, savoring the evening’s first hint of alcohol. Soon he would be blissfully oblivious to everything in this shitty, shitty game world.

  “It’s nice to get out of the Whore’s Head every now and again,” said Julian, presumably just to fill the silence. The tips of his long ears were already pink from his first sip of beer.

  Dave downed a shot of stonepiss. “Yeah, real nice. Drinking in this dingy tavern is so much better than drinking in the dingy tavern we usually drink at.”

  Tim stared into his beer. Julian had made a vacuously cheerful remark. Dave had bitched about something. All that was missing now was –

  “Hey Dave,” said Cooper, trying to flick a half-orc booger at him. It was too sticky, and he eventually gave up and licked it off his finger. “Your mom’s a whore.”

  Dave rolled his beady dwarf eyes. “Not really your best effort.”

  “That’s what a hundred guys who might be your dad said.”

  Dave puffed his bearded cheeks and exhaled. “Seriously, what are we doing here? There’s literally no difference between this place and the Whore’s Head, except that we can drink for free there.”

  It was Tim’s idea to come out, so he was expected to answer. “I can rest my brain here. It’s not so noisy.”

  “It’s plenty noisy in here.”

  Dave wasn’t technically wrong. The lizard people at the next table were particularly rowdy, slurping their drinks and chatting loudly in their clicky reptilian language.

  “Oh,” Dave continued, looking at the lizard people. “And everyone at the Whore’s Head speaks English.”

  Tim gulped back some beer and licked away his frothy mustache. “And that’s why we’re here.”

  “You lost me.”

  “I’m so sick and tired of listening to everyone. Yeah, it’s noisy in here, but everybody’s speaking a different language that I don’t understand. Back there it’s all about how they miss their shitty lives back in the real world, or Doctor Who quotes.”

  Dave pouted. “I like Doctor Who.”

  “Bullshit,” said Cooper. “Nobody likes Doctor Who. Everyone just watches it for geek cred. It’s like going to church for nerds.”

  “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” said Dave. “Have you ever even watched an episode?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “Then how do you know you don’t like it?”

  “Because I’m not retarded.”

  “Easy, Coop,” said Tim. “You’re kind of on the fence there.”

  “Fuck you nerds,” said Cooper, standing up. “I’m going outside to take a shit.”

/>   “Did everyone catch that?” said Julian as the lizard people stopped their conversation to look up at Cooper. “Oh good. Thanks for the update, Cooper. Don’t forget to wipe.”

  Cooper gave the rest of them a middle finger as he walked out of the tavern.

  “Greetings,” said a cloaked figure stepping behind Cooper’s empty chair. He wore a neatly trimmed blond goatee, and his icy blue eyes shone out from the shadow of his hood.

  Julian smiled up at him. “Hi there!”

  Dave let out a heavy sigh. “Not interested.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Dave!” said Julian. “You’re being rude.”

  Dave looked up at the stranger. “Let me guess. You’ve got some sort of quest you’d like us to go on.”

  The man looked baffled. “Well, yes but –”

  “You’d go yourself, but it’s dangerous, and you have a wife and a sick child to think of.”

  “That’s true, but –”

  “But you promise to make it worth our while.”

  “Of course, but how do you –”

  “This is Caverns and Creatures,” said Dave. “We’re in a tavern, and you’re a mysterious stranger. That’s how the game works.”

  “You speak in riddles, dwarf.”

  Tim had to hand it to Dave. He’d made an astute observation which would probably save them all a big headache. It was time to end this conversation.

  Tim cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, sir. My friend is right. We’ve had a long day, and we really don’t want anything more than a quiet drink.”

  The stranger pulled back his hood, revealing some of the cleanest blond hair Tim had yet seen in Cardinia. He looked like a Sunday school picture of Jesus. “If peace and intoxication are what you desire, these things I can provide. I have a private room in the back of the tavern, and I thought you might be interested in a finer vintage than the goblin piss you’re drinking now.”

  Tim raised his glass and his eyebrows. “Listen, buddy. This is no goblin piss. Believe me. I know. I’ve …” He suddenly became aware of everyone staring at him. “…said too much, haven’t I?”

  “Um…” Julian broke the awkward silence that followed. “You said something about good booze?”

  Dave glared at him. “Julian, no!”

  The stranger smiled down at Julian. “All I ask is for you to hear my tale.”

  Dave shook his head.

  Julian raised a reassuring hand to Dave and looked up at the stranger. “What if we tell you up front that there is no way we will do whatever it is you want us to do?”

  “If that is your choice, so be it.”

  “I mean really,” Julian continued. “No matter how heartbreaking the sob story you’ve got for us, we’re just going to drink your booze, listen to what you have to say, and be on our way.”

  “I probably won’t even listen,” added Tim. He liked where Julian was going with this, and hoped his superfluous display of callousness might help convince Dave.

  Dave frowned so hard that his head trembled. “I don’t like this.”

  “I seek only to unburden myself of my woeful tale,” said the stranger. “I expect nothing from you but a sympathetic ear, even if your sympathy is not genuine.”

  Tim looked up at the stranger. “Even if all you need us to do is run down to the market and fetch you a loaf of bread to feed your starving family, I’m going to say no.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’m serious,” said Tim. “Even if your kids are on fucking fire, and you ask me to walk across the street and piss on them, I’m going to tell you to kiss my little halfling ass.”

  “Jesus, Tim,” said Dave. “You’ve made your point. Take it down a notch.”

  “Your overzealous lack of compassion is noted and accepted,” said the stranger. “This world is rife with charlatans and ne’er-do-wells. You are wise to steel yourself against false appeals to tender hearts.”

  “I’m smart,” Tim corrected him. “Dave’s the wise one.” It didn’t hurt to butter up Dave just a bit more. “What do you say, Dave? We’ve made it perfectly clear that we have every intention of abusing this man’s generosity and ignoring his pleas for help. Do you feel better now?”

  “Not really.”

  “That’s not a no.”

  “Actually, it kinda –”

  “It’s settled, then,” said Tim. “Lead us, tall stranger, into drunken oblivion.”

  The stranger smiled. “When you’ve settled your affairs here, you may join me in booth number five. I’ll be waiting.” He turned his back to them and gracefully strode between tables full of drunk humans, quasi-humans, and straight up monsters toward the curtained booths at the back of the tavern.

  Tim sucked down the rest of his skunky warm beer, spilling at least half as much down his shirt as he was spilling down his esophagus.

  Dave took another shot of stonepiss. “This is so stupid. There is no way this will end well.”

  “That’s it,” said Tim. “No more bitching and moaning until I’m drunk enough to ignore it. Now go pay the tab and I’ll meet you in booth five.”

  “Where are you going?” asked Julian.

  “I’ve got to take a piss, and let Cooper know where we are.”

  “Check on Ravenus for me?”

  Tim sighed. “Fine.”

  He walked out of the front entrance, not nearly drunk enough to call out to a bird in a British accent without feeling silly. But when free booze or sex was at stake, sometimes you just need to check your pride at the door.

  “Ello! Ello!” Tim called into the darkening purple sky.

  “Ho there, halfling!” said an elf passing by on the other side of the street. He was one of a group of five. With their wild hairstyles and black leather clothes, they looked like teenage ruffians, but you could never tell with an elf. They could have been three hundred years old for all Tim knew. “Are you talking to me?”

  “Oh no,” said Tim, instinctively reverting back to the Common tongue. “I was talking to a friend.”

  The leader of the elf pack made a show of looking left, then right, then back at Tim. “I don’t see no friends.” He continued to speak in his native Elven language, or British as far as Tim was concerned. “Is your friend an elf?”

  “No!” said Tim, not quite sure of why he said it so abruptly. “He’s a… bird.” From the confused and angry looks on their faces, he guessed he wasn’t helping his situation.

  The leader tilted his head until his neck cracked. “He’s a bird?”

  The conversation was slipping away from Tim. If he wanted to avoid getting his ass kicked by The Cure, he needed to try an unskilled Diplomacy check. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t have elf friends. I have elf friends. Well an elf friend, but –”

  “I don’t see no birds neither, mate,” said the leader, stepping into the street toward Tim. “And if your friend is a bird, that still don’t explain why you was shoutin’ out in Elven.”

  “I think he’s takin’ the piss out of us, Derrick,” said one of the subordinate elves, the one with the green curtain of hair hanging down over the right side of his face.

  “Is that right, halfling?” said the leader, Derrick. “Are you takin’ the piss?”

  Tim sighed with relief. “That’s precisely what I came out here to do.”

  Derrick stopped in his tracks right in the middle of the street. He turned back to his friends and laughed. “Do you believe this guy?”

  “He fancies himself a jester,” said the green-haired elf.

  Derrick pointed at Tim. “You’s a funny little guy.”

  Tim wanted to take the words at face value, but sensed they were more menacing than that. “Um… thank you?”

  Derrick glanced up and down the empty street, then scowled at Tim. “Let’s see how funny you are with no tongue.” He flicked his wrist, and there was suddenly six inches of shiny steel in his hand.

  Tim felt a rush of warmth in his crotch area as he made good
on his word to take the piss.

  “Is there a problem here?” said a voice from behind, and significantly above, Tim’s head.

  Cooper. Tim relaxed, but made no effort to stem the flow of urine down his left leg. There was really no point now.

  Derrick, staring up past Tim, took a step back and retracted his blade. “Who are you?”

  Tim crossed his arms over his chest, confident in spite of his soaked pants. “This is my friend, Cooper.”

  “That ain’t no bird, mate.”

  “What the fuck is he talking about?” asked Cooper.

  “Hullo then!” said Ravenus, flapping down to perch atop a parked wagon. “What’s the trouble?”

  Tim was uncomfortable speaking in a British accent around actual elves, but fuck it. These guys were assholes, and his dignity was already puddled around his feet.

  “Julian wanted me to make sure you were okay.”

  “Couldn’t be better, sir!” said Ravenus. “There’s a sickly dire rat around the back of the pub. He’s not quite dead, but he’s nearly there. Whatever he’s dying from is causing his skin to rot, so he tastes about right. I’ve been pecking away at him a bit, you see.”

  “That’s lovely,” said Tim. “I’ll be sure and let Julian know.”

  “Very good then,” said Ravenus. “Toodle pip!” He flew out of sight over the roof of the building.

  “Well I’ll be,” said the green-haired elf. “He was tellin’ the truth about the bird after all.”

  “I beg your pardon, mate,” said Derrick, backing further away still.

  “Fuck off,” said Tim. “Come on, Coop. We’re getting the V.I.P. treatment in here.”

  Tim led Cooper back through the crowded tavern, past the table they had been sitting at, which was now occupied by a group of gnolls, and finally to the curtained private rooms at the rear of the establishment.

  “Booth number five,” said Tim. He pulled back the curtain.