4d6 (Caverns and Creatures)

by Robert Bevan

  Julian cleared his throat. “Bella?”

  Waxoff looked up and yelped, but Bella calmly finished the paragraph she was on and placed a bookmark between the pages before looking up from her book.

  “You’ve escaped,” said Bella. “Well done.”

  “We’ve come to rescue you,” said Julian.

  Bella clapped her hands. “How wonderful! Just like in a storybook. Who are you rescuing me from? Brigands? Pirates?”

  “We’re here to rescue you from the Beast,” said Dave.

  “The Beast?” Bella’s smile faltered. “What beast?”

  “Take your pick,” said Tim. “We let Garçon out of his cell too before we found out he was a wereboar.”

  Julian looked at Tim. “Is that really a thing?”

  “But if we have to get specific,” Tim continued, “the Beast we were referring to is the one who –” His eyes watered as he waved his hand in front of his face. “Jesus Christ, Cooper. Was that you?”

  Cooper took a step back. “Sorry. I haven’t had anything to eat but fucking poison. My insides are all messed up. I think I just need one good solid fart to sort me out.”

  Dave coughed. “That one wasn’t good enough? It smells like a dumpster behind a cheese factory.”

  Cooper’s fart must have started wide and low, then risen with the subtle drafts of the hosue. Julian smelled it right about the same time Bella grabbed Waxoff and waved him in front of her face. Waxoff, in turn, was waving his fire hands in front of his own nose.

  When Bella was finally able to speak, she said, “Did you say Garçon turned?”

  “Yes,” said Tim, his voice like a toad with throat cancer.

  “Interesting. I was keeping him alive to see if that would happen.” She looked at Julian. “You say he escaped as well, but he’s not with you. Did you...”

  “No,” said Julian. “He’s downstairs in the kitchen, fighting a cast iron pot.”

  “Big Blackie?”

  “Whoa!” said Dave. “Was that what he was called before he turned into a pot?”

  “Hang on.” Julian stared hard at the pretty, large-bosomed girl in the yellow dress. “Are you saying you’re the master of this house?”

  Bella batted her eyelashes at Julian. “Why of course! Who were you expecting?”

  “I don’t understand,” said Dave. “Who did Garçon fight a month ago?”

  “That was the old master. He was no good at all.” Bella placed Waxoff back on the table. “He imprisoned my father and passed his curse on to me.”

  Cooper scratched his left armpit. “You changed? Were you, like, a dude before?”

  “And then had the gall to try to make me love him. He’s no different than Garçon, or any of the rest of you.” Her tone suggested that she was no longer in a playful mood.

  Tim glanced back at the double doors. “So, the old master. Did you...”

  Bella smiled at Tim. “Garçon did most of the work. I just finished him off.”

  “I don’t remember that happening in the movie, Dave. Maybe it was in the sequel?”

  Dave swallowed hard. “I don’t know. That went direct to video.”

  “I can see why,” said Cooper. “That shit got dark.”

  Dave and Tim looked to Julian expectantly. Cooper continued to scratch his armpit.

  “Okay,” said Julian, not really sure how to follow it. “You’ve clearly got some man issues.” That already sounded wrong. “It’s understandable, given how much you’ve been through. But we’re not interested in your...” Nope. That won’t work either. “Think back to when you met us in the tavern. You thought we were decent guys, right? Why else would you have invited us here?”

  Bella shrugged. “A girl’s got to eat.” Coarse black hairs sprouted out of the top of her breasts as her dress began to tear at the seams.

  By the time Julian looked up, her face had completely transformed into that of a wild boar. The fact that it took that much motivation for him to look away from her breasts made Julian concede that she might have had a point about men.

  “Run!” screamed Dave, waddling back toward the double doors.

  The four of them made it out into the hallway before Bella’s transformation was complete, but Garçon was limping up the staircase, bloody drool dripping from his massive tusks.

  “Shit!” said Tim. “Cooper, keep those doors closed. They’re just wereboars. We might be able to take them one at a time.”

  “Take them with what?” cried Dave. “We didn’t bring any weapons!”

  Julian pulled back the part of his serape that Ravenus was tucked under. “You can’t help us. Fly somewhere safe.”

  “Very good, sir.” Ravenus pushed off of Julian’s chest and dove over the railing.

  Julian genuinely wanted his familiar to be safe, but he was surprised at just how little coaxing it took for Ravenus to ditch him like that.

  When he looked back, Tim had emptied the contents of his pockets out onto the floor, and was spreading out a bunch of silverware he had apparently stolen from the kitchen.

  “Arm yourselves,” said Tim, holding on to two dinner knives.

  Dave picked up a knife. “Fucking dinnerware? This isn’t even pointy. What are we supposed to do? Smother him with a layer of mayonnaise?”

  Julian grabbed a fork and a knife, but gave Tim a disapproving glare.

  “What?”

  “We weren’t in enough trouble as it was? You had to go and steal their cutlery too?”

  “Everyone knows you can only hurt a lycanthrope with silver weapons. I was thinking ahead, taking a precautionary measure.”

  Julian scoffed. “So how do you explain the spoons?”

  “Fuck you. How’s that for an explanation?” Tim had a point. There would be time for arguing later.

  Julian stood up and brandished a knife and fork as if he were threatening an aggressive pork chop instead of the snarling monstrosity that was grunting and snorting as it hooved its way up the stairs. “Garçon! Don’t do this, man. Stay back!”

  “It’s no use,” said Dave, his sweaty hands also wielding a knife and fork. “This is his first time turning. He probably doesn’t even know who he is. He’s confused, angry, and hungry.”

  Tim held up the two knives he’d kept for himself and stood next to Julian. “Cooper, grab something to fight with. Our only hope is to take out Garçon before Bella gets out here. Everyone get ready to rush him on three.”

  Ravenus let out a battle caw that filled the cavernous foyer and hallway. He soared over the railing just as Garçon was getting to the top of the stairs, and he wasn’t alone. French Tickler, his feather duster lover, was clutched in his talons.

  “Ravenus, no!” cried Julian as Ravenus flew directly at Garçon.

  From the last stair, Garçon made a wild swipe, which Ravenus narrowly avoided, and French Tickler sprayed a cloud of dust from her feathers into his face.

  Garçon squealed and screamed, blindly flailing his arms, as he lost his balance and tumbled backwards down the staircase.

  “Goddamn,” said Cooper. “Bitch needs some Vagisil, or fucking Pine-Sol, or –”

  The library doors swung open, flattening Cooper against the wall. A fully transformed Bella stood in the doorway, flaring her piggy nostrils. Her red-eyed gaze fell to Julian’s knife and fork, and she snorted.

  Julian knew a crotchful of dust wasn’t going to save them this time.

  A sound somewhere between a groan and a squeal rose from the bottom of the staircase. Bella looked over the railing and snarled down at Garçon. Before anyone had the chance to make a paltry attempt at stabbing her, she shoved Dave and Julian out of her way and bounded down the staircase, taking the stairs four at a time.

  “Even better,” said Tim. “Let those two duke it out, and we’ll have an easier time with the winner. Back in the library.”

  Julian didn’t know why Tim wanted to go back into the library. It seemed like they should keep an eye on the fight so that they’d know wh
at they were up against when the victor came after them. If he was being honest, he was still concerned about Bella as well. He didn’t want her to be ripped apart by Garçon, but he also didn’t like the idea of having to stab a sixteen-year-old girl to death. He followed everyone into the library, unsure of whom he was rooting for in the wereboar battle below.

  When Tim pulled the doors closed behind them, Dave spoke up.

  “Why are we in the library? You wouldn’t rather watch the fight?”

  Tim shook his head. “We need every advantage we can get. I can get my Sneak-Attack bonus in if we’re flanking whichever one of those assholes walks through the door. So I’m thinking I’ll stand on this side, and Cooper can stand on the other side. Julian can stand over by the sofa and fire a Magic Missile. As soon one of them steps through the door, we give it everything we’ve got.”

  “Where should I stand?” asked Dave.

  “A few steps back from the door. You can be bait.”

  “Why do I have to be bait? Julian can summon a horse to be bait.”

  “Dude! We’re fighting with fucking forks and shit. We need Julian’s Magic Missiles.”

  Tim crouched next to the left side of the doorway, gripping his two knives and ready to pounce.

  Cooper stood on the other side, using a fork to scratch his ass.

  Julian swapped his knife for Dave’s fork since he would be fighting from a distance... in the beginning anyway.

  Dave muttered some half-sarcastic gratitude, and Julian considered whether he wanted to sit on the sofa or stand behind it. He ultimately decided that it wasn’t going to offer him that much protection from one of those beasts outside, and his feet could really use a rest. He could cast a Magic Missile sitting down as easily as he could standing up, after all.

  “Oh my god,” said Cooper. “Here it comes.”

  Tim cautiously leaned toward the door. “I don’t hear anything.”

  Cooper grinned. “No, I was talking about –”

  “Cooper!” cried Dave. “Behind you!”

  Julian looked at Cooper’s rear and found Waxoff sneaking out from behind a purple ottoman, one of his flame hands pointed at Cooper’s ass. Waxoff took a deep breath and prepared to pull his flame-thrower move when Cooper let rip the most epic shit-speckled fart Julian had ever witnessed.

  The initial spray turned Waxoff brown just nanoseconds before the flame ignited, shooting out a plume of fire, like the breath of a dragon, out of Cooper’s asshole.

  It lasted at least ten seconds, maybe fifteen. Waxoff melted into a puddle of shit-tainted wax down the sides of a very much un-animated brass candle holder. The bookcase behind him had caught on fire, the dry pages of the old tomes crackling and passing the flames outward and upward.

  When it was done, Cooper stood up straight. “I feel so much better now.”

  Julian, Tim, and Dave just stared in silent awe.

  “The fuck’s wrong with you guys?” said Cooper, evidently not yet aware that he’d set the library on fire. “Why don’t you grow the fuck –”

  Garçon flew through the double doors, smashing one in half and knocking the other off its hinges, and straight into Dave. From the state of him, struggling to get back up on his hooves, Julian guessed that he had not entered the library of his own volition.

  Dave hurriedly rolled away from the exhausted-but-no-less-terrifyng monster and stood back up.

  Bella stomped into the library, her bloodthirsty gaze fixed on Garçon The bloodied yellow scraps hanging from her body were now unrecognizable as having once been a dress.

  In all the excitement, nobody remembered to attack either of the wereboar. Julian didn’t even know which one he was supposed to prioritize. Garçon looked like he might actually be only a couple of Magic Missiles away from dropping dead, but Bella was clearly the more dangerous of the two... at least until she turned back into a naked woman. No, girl.

  “My books!” cried Bella. She ran to the bookshelves, her illegally stunning breasts bouncing with each step.

  Julian shielded his eyes and made a run for the exit. “I’m not looking! I’m not looking! I’m not –” He ran into Garçon, sending them both to the floor. “Excuse me.” He got back up and started running again, more concerned about not looking at Bella than by not being ripped apart by a wearboar.

  When he made it to the double doors, he found that Tim and Dave were also shielding their eyes. Only Cooper was unabashedly gawking at her.

  “No fucking way she’s sixteen.”

  “Cooper!” said Julian. “Stop staring!”

  “It’s cool. She turned back into a pig.”

  Julian looked. Bella had indeed changed back into a wereboar to deal with another attack from Garçon. She kept him at bay with one kicking hoof while simultaneously throwing as many books as she could save away from the spreading fire.

  “Let’s go!” whispered Tim.

  The four of them crept quietly through the doorway. Even Cooper and Dave’s heavy footsteps were drowned out by the roar of the fire. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Ravenus and French Tickler were waiting by the front door.

  “Well well, sir,” said Ravenus. “I’ve got a tingly feeling in the cloaca. What have you been getting up to?”

  “Nothing!” said Julian. “You’re just aroused by your ladyfriend here.”

  “It’s not me, sir. I’m all spent. Need some time to replenish the troops, if you catch my meaning.”

  Dave grimaced. “Looks like someone’s got the hots for a sixteen-year-old pig-woman.” It was easy to judge, being the only one wearing boner-concealing armor.

  “Ha!” said French Tickler. “Have no fear, Monsieur Elf. Mademoiselle Bella is twenty-three.”

  Cooper pumped his fist. “I called that shit.”

  “How do you know how old she is?” Dave challenged the feather duster.

  “I was ze one who told her to lie about her age. I thought it might keep her safe from... How you say... ze predator?”

  “Shit!” said Cooper. “Is he here, too? How many movies did Mordred rip off at once?”

  Julian looked at Ravenus and French Tickler. They did make a cute, if unconventional, couple. He hated to break two lovers apart. And really, how much of a burden could a feather duster be?

  “Why don’t you come with us?”

  Ravenus looked at him with wide eyes. Julian’s heart skipped a beat.

  French Tickler smiled. “I cannot, monsieur. My place is here, next to my husband, Waxoff.”

  Julian and Tim exchanged troubled glances.

  “We have a complicated relationship, but he is ze love of my life.” French Tickler raised a feather to the side of Ravenus’s beak. “But you will always have a place here.” She placed the tip of the feather on the base of her handle.”

  “Awesome,” said Tim. “Good luck with that. We really need to be going now.”

  *

  When they had ridden Julian’s magical horses far enough away from the house, they slowed down to a trot.

  “Are you okay?” Julian asked Ravenus, who was perched on his shoulder.

  “Of course I am, sir. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I meant about your lady friend. All that stuff she said back there.”

  “She couldn’t speak Elven, sir. I have no idea what she was on about.”

  “Oh. It’s just that I sensed you getting a little panicky back there when we were parting ways.”

  “Of course I was, sir. Excuse me for saying so, but I thought you’d gone mad when you invited her to tag along.”

  “I just thought –”

  “That would have thrown off our whole dynamic, wouldn’t it?”

  Julian shrugged. “I don’t know if it would have been that –”

  “And can you imagine me being seen in public with her? Me, a raven, and her, a... I don’t even know what she is!”

  “Alright, already. I got it. I’ll run it by you first next time.”

  Ravenus ruffled his feathe
rs. “I’m in the prime of my life, sir. Far too young to be getting tied down.”

  The End.

  Wight Trash

  (Original Publication Date: July 15, 2016)

  The tattooed bare-chested half-orc behind the rough wooden desk continued writing on a piece of parchment as Tim, Julian, Dave, and Cooper entered the shipping container-sized office.

  “Excuse me,” said Tim. “Is this the Cardinian Trash Dump?”

  The half-orc continued writing, not even sparing them a glance. “It is.”

  Tim wasn’t expecting much in the way of pleasantries from a garbage man, but some basic acknowledgment would have been nice. He looked at Julian, who had a better temperament to deal with this sort of bullshit.

  “Is that really what it’s called?” asked Julian. “Trash Dump?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” said Tim. “It’s a place where the city dumps its trash.”

  “I don’t know. Those words just don’t sound good together. I feel like it should be abbreviated, or the words should be combined into something catchier, or –”

  “Maybe you can pitch some ideas at the next town hall meeting. For now...” Tim slowly and deliberately moved his gaze toward the city employee behind the desk, who was still ignoring the four of them to the best of his ability.

  Julian cleared his throat. “We’re here about the job.”

  “Waste retrieval or perimeter control?”

  Julian looked to his friends for guidance on how to answer the question, but they had nothing but shrugs to offer.

  “We understood this was a mercenary position.”

  The half-orc stopped writing. “Oh, that job.” He scanned them each in turn. He nodded approvingly at Dave, the only one of them decked out in proper armor, but squinted at his leopard-furred forearm. For Julian, draped in a filthy serape, he gave a small snort. He only looked at Cooper long enough to wince and move on. Though they were both half-orcs, Cooper’s severely low Charisma score often made for jarring first impressions. When his eyes fell on Tim, a wide toothy grin spread across his face.

  It was always the same wherever he went. Tim thought that in a world where halflings are a common race, people wouldn’t treat them like the ten-year-old kids they resembled. He was continuously let down in that regard.