by Charles Dean
“Do you want to risk, you know, just walking in?” Darwin asked the others. “I actually don’t have any idea of how strong the bandits we’re going to fight are. We could ask around, get some intelligence, figure things out from there, or we can just walk in. What do you guys think?”
“Ugh, talky talky so boring. Only old people go to the movies to watch people talk,” Minx said, running ahead of the other three.
“She’s very decisive,” Kass noted before chasing after her. Darwin and Kitchens must have taken their time--they seemed to like dragging behind her and Minx--because she didn’t hear them following after her.
That said, she probably should have also taken her time when navigating the torchlit ore mine and waited for backup. She didn’t make it more than thirty feet into the dungeon before she found Minx standing still and staring at a wall of four enemies, each with a bow pointed at her. Never a dull moment with this kid, is there?
As Kass looked at the four Human archers, she noticed two of them had already switched from Minx to her, training the arrows on her vital spots. “So,” she said, raising her hands like it was a western, “why haven’t you fired the arrows?”
“I don’t know about the other gentlemen here,” the tallest of the four archers said, “but I typically find it bad luck to kill a woman and child in cold blood.”
Kass should have just been happy with the development, but the sexist mark really angered her. “What? Because a woman and child can’t take care of themselves? I’ll have you know I’m just as tough as any man!”
“I’m sure of that, lass, but I mean to say that if you kill a woman or child in cold blood it always comes with some scary, angry man attached. That’s what I mean to say by ‘it’s bad luck,’” he explained.
“Guys kind of like us, you mean?” Darwin asked, walking in fashionably late with Kitchens.
“Yeah, kind of like you two. Except, if the lasses here were dead, I imagine you’d be angry.”
“You’re right on that.”
“See there, lass? It wasn’t sexist: it was reasonable,” the archer said, feeling rather proud of himself.
“Well, actually,” one of the other archers looked over at him, “it still is kind of sexist. Your statement is kind of implying that either women don’t seek revenge, or you’re not afraid of an angry woman coming after you for seeking vengeance.”
“Oh, that’s true. That would be sexist, but only if you accept one of those implications. It could be that only a woman and a child were present, so I merely felt no need to add in an adult male, an absent demographic, to the considerations when formulating my response to the lass’s questions. Maybe I don’t kill in cold blood at all if I can avoid it,” the archer reasoned further.
“Well, it still is kind of demeaning to women to narrow them out by their gender and not other qualifications though, don’t you think?” a third archer from the group of four chimed in. “I mean, is her defining characteristic really the fact that she’s a girl? You could have said, ‘I don’t kill dagger-wielders or mages.’ So, why did you pick women and children? Seems a bit ageist and sexist, you have to admit.”
“Well if I did that, you’d get on to me for being classist or weaponist, now wouldn’t you?” the first archer, the one defending himself, said.
“You could just say you don’t kill people. You don’t have to separate them, you know,” the fourth archer said, joining the discussion. The entire time they were bickering though, Kass found herself baffled. On one hand, she should probably be scared that a loose finger or slip of the hand might cause a good amount of pain. On the other hand, however, there was something decidedly unintimidating about a group of men arguing over what was or wasn’t politically correct when describing how they don’t kill people.
“Well, how cool would that be? There isn’t really a ring to, ‘I find it to be bad luck to kill people in cold blood,’” he protested.
“There you go again with separating people. How do you know she’s got cold blood? Does she have scales? Seems like you’re gonna end up being offensive to the Reptilians there.”
“Fair point, fair point,” one of the other archers, not the one defending himself, agreed. “You really should just stick with: ‘I don’t like to kill people.’ I think it’s your best bet if you don’t want to be offensive.”
“Ummm,” Kass decided to join the conversation. “You could say when you don’t like to kill people? It might add some pizazz and effect to it. For example, ‘I don’t like to kill people on an empty stomach.’ I don’t know when you ate. That might or might not be a lot scarier than just saying you don’t like to kill people, but it’s definitely more interesting.”
“Lady is right. For sure. Go ahead, Reginald. Give it a try. See how it feels. If you like it, it might stop you from being so offensive next time.”
“Fine! Fine! I’ll give it a try,” he shouted at the other archer. Then, true to his word he tried out the line: “I wouldn’t take one step closer, or I’ll have to kill you, and I don’t like to kill on an empty stomach.” He paused for his moment and then started nodding his head. “That really worked. I mean, I felt that one. Did you guys feel that one?”
“Yeah, it was pretty awesome. Felt tight. Really had me going there, Reggy.”
“For sure. It fit you like a glove. See, you don’t have to be offensive to have a solid line,” he said to his buddy and then turning to Kass, “Thanks, miss, for helping him out.”
“No problem, I guess? Does this mean you’re not going to shoot me?”
“Oh, heavens to Betsy, no. We still have to kill you if you move an inch closer. Rules and all,” he shrugged. “But, if it makes you feel better, I’ll feel super terrible while I do it.”
“Well, you could show us the door or force us to fight you . . .” Darwin did his usual pause for dramatic effect in the middle of a conversation, “Or, you could let us talk to you about how we can help with your King problem.”
King problem? I thought they were a problem to the King, not the other way around. What is Darwin talking about? Kass wondered as the archers untrained the bows slowly and then all at once put them up.
“Alright, we’ll take you to the boss, but no funny business. One slip up from any of you, and they’ll cut our rations. I’d rather not sink what little money I have left into belts.”
“You’ve got nothing to fear. I wasn’t born with a good sense of humor,” Darwin assured the worried archer.
“Are you sure about that? I mean, have you seen how you dress?” one of the archers asked Darwin as the group of eight started walking deeper into the silver ore mine. “There is no way you picked that outfit without a sense of humor.”
“Right? Seriously, man. If you weren’t intending that to be funny, then that outfit is a desperate cry for help,” Reginald joined in.
“I like my outfit,” Darwin said, looking down at his bathrobe. “It’s comfy.”
“Well, at least someone does.” The archers’ attacks were relentless.
“The boss might too, I caught him wearing white in the winter,” Reginald laughed. “His tastes might be just as bad as yours.”
I really hope I never sound like them, Kass thought to herself, remembering all the times she had teased one of her friends about their outfits. I really, really hope that I never sound like that.
“Mister, mister! Don’t listen to them. You look cool. Super styles!” Minx said, pulling on Darwin’s bathrobe.
Kass thought for a minute about joining her in reassuring Darwin that he didn’t look stupid, especially since the bathrobe had been designed to match her white dress, but then decided that she would take the low road. “Well, at least he’s not wearing all black leather armor. I can’t tell if you all go to the same dungeon or if it’s just the same open mic poetry club.”
“Miss, that was just uncalled for. Louie here is an excellent poet. There is no need to tease him about it,” the archer who had first argued with Reginald said, eliciting
nods from the other three.
“He really is. You should go sometime and listen.”
Kass had to struggle to resist the urge to facepalm yet again. “I’m sure he is,” she said, doing her best not to sound sarcastic. How did I get held up at arrow point by these four bozos?
“Hey, do you guys feel something funny?” Louie asked, looking at the other seven.
“Like funny ‘ha ha’ or funny ‘strange’?” Reginald questioned as they kept walking.
“Funny ‘strange.’ I’m not the only one who feels it, right?” Louie continued, “It also smells different in here.”
“Louie, we’re in the middle of an ore mine,” one of the still unnamed archers said. “Of course it’s going to smell different. Did you expect it to smell like a garden of orchids and lilacs? Or are you trying to say one of us farted so bad it made this dung hole smell worse?”
“No, no, listen to Louie for a minute, Steve,” Reginald said, putting out his arm and stopping the group of them. “I think he’s right. Do you not smell that?”
“What, it doesn’t smell bad at all?” Steve said, sniffing in overly exaggerated gestures. “It just kind of smells like--”
“Like unripe tomatoes,” Kitchens interrupted the quarreling guards. “Cover your mouths!”
Everyone put a hand over their mouth, but for some it had been too late. Louie and Reginald, the first two to notice the smell, found themselves leaning against a wall and then sliding to the floor. Steve and the other archer followed suit with Minx not far behind.
Kass looked around, panicked. She didn’t know what was going on. She had covered her mouth, but she was already starting to feel the effects of whatever was invading her system. The cloth in front of her face was doing little to nothing to protect her. She saw Darwin and Kitchens running back the way they had entered, but as Kass tried to follow she soon found her legs giving way and starting to wobble. Before she knew it, she had tripped and was lying face down on the ground. “Darwin . . .” she managed to say softly, reaching in his direction as he barreled towards the exit. “Darwin . . . don’t l . . .”
You have been knocked unconscious. You have fifteen minutes until you will regain consciousness.
Again? Really? Why can’t I enter a silver ore mine without getting knocked unconscious? Kass cursed, still worried about her friends. This was just like the time with the poker playing bear, except at least this time it was only a fifteen minute wait and not a two hour one. However, the short time aside, it didn’t assuage her concerns over what would happen while she was out. He’s Darwin, right? He’s killed a Hydra by himself. He’ll be fine. He’ll be okay. I mean, there’s no way anything can hurt that doof. Nothing has ever hurt him. . . She found herself doing her best to reassure herself despite the fact that Darwin was short a team and probably about to go into a fight. It didn’t help ease her mind that she wasn’t even aware of who or what he was up against and whether or not he was even conscious at the moment. He’s Darwin. He’ll be fine . . . He’ll be fine.
Darwin:
“I’m afraid my senses are too dulled, Darwin. I won’t be much good to you in the fight ahead,” Kitchens noted as the two of them exited the cave.
“Do we even know what we are fighting?” Darwin wondered, looking around at his surroundings.
“I’m afraid we do, and, even with your ability, I don’t think we’ll win. My reflexes and Speed stat are too slow now. I won’t be able to help you much,” Kitchens said, spreading his legs and entering a stance that Darwin hadn’t seen him do in battle before. It was like an old-fashioned samurai stance from the movies, except done by a cat guy with a tank top instead of the usual ornately armor-covered, mask-wearing samurai.
“Well, want to tell me who we’re fighting at least?” Darwin said, pulling out his two Burriza’s.
“We’re fighting our friends from the arena, but this time they brought the whole crew,” Kitchens said.
“How many?” Darwin thought, still not seeing any of them. How on earth can he spot them? Did he just recognize the poison they used?
“Eleven. Maybe more. I don’t know if they’ve recruited anyone since I left, but that poison back there was a nerve gas. It slowly ticks away at your Speed stat until you are unconscious. I have less than a minute or so left at most before I pass out, and until then I won’t be fast enough to take them on properly,” he said, closing his eyes and focusing on his blade. “This failure is mine: I should have noticed before the guards.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll take care of it for you,” Darwin said, looking at the man. This may be it for me. Those ninjas weren’t tough, but if my Speed stat really is dropping, I’m a dead man. “Just get some rest when your minute hits.”
“I’ll see you in town when we respawn,” Kitchens said, planting his sword into the ground in front of him, leaning on it and then closing his eyes.
Darwin thought about running, leaving Kitchens, Kass and them to die at the hands of the unseen assailants, but he just couldn’t justify it. Sure, if they died, it was just a simple matter of respawning, whereas his death may be more . . . permanent, but just the thought of abandoning them left an awful taste in his mouth. They’re my friends. Don’t even think about it, Darwin said to himself as he stared around at the woods surrounding the entrance to the mine.
Then, after a good two or three minutes of waiting, one of the cat Ninjas, the one he had mutilated in the arena, popped out and took off her mask. “I must admit that I’m surprised to see you still standing. I thought surely if you breathed in the gas, you’d be out like a light by now.”
“I guess I’m lucky,” Darwin said. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do in this situation. As she was talking, more and more Felines popped out, each one in the same annoying black ninja outfit.
“I wouldn’t say that. Their deaths will be peaceful. Yours on the other hand . . .” She touched the place on her wrists where he had chopped off her hands in the arena. “Your death will not be.”
“That is still yet to be seen,” Darwin did his best at a snappy comeback. “You couldn’t beat me earlier, so what makes you think you can beat me here?”
“Oh, it’s my friends, and your lack thereof,” she laughed then pulled out her dagger and started etching it across her own body as she threatened and taunted Darwin. “You see, first, I’m going to tie you up and drag you away so your friends won’t find you. Then, I’m going to cut off your fingers. Then I’m going to cut off your hands. Then I’m going to draw this blade up and down your body until . . .”
Her taunts probably would have gone on for a while, but the hour mark hit and Hunger kicked in. His eyes flashed red, his hands moved on their own and he found himself charging at the vile woman with weapons out before he even fully realized what was happening to him.
“G-g-get him!” she yelled as she did her best to block the first sword. She did manage to stop it from being fatal, but he still had left a gash five inches deep in her shoulder, leaving her screaming on the ground and unable to lift the arm she needed to stop the second swing, the swing that would have killed her if not for her allies.
As soon as Darwin went for the final blow, three shuriken tore into his left arm, not crippling it, but sending enough pain up it to force him to twist and stop the fourth as he was pushed back from his prey. At that point, two ninjas who had been close by rushed at him with blades drawn. This is bad. I can’t stop them both, Darwin thought as he saw their speedy charge. Well, if I can’t stop you both, I’m taking one of you with me, he thought, pulling his swords up and parrying the ninja on the right with one blade while taking its head off with the second. It was a good, clean kill, but it came at a price. The other ninja, unchecked, had torn her weapon through his side. He couldn’t see his health bar but he knew it was down to 25 or 30% and dropping by the second from blood loss.
I . . . I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die! he screamed in his head. It was the firs
t time he actually felt himself to be in mortal danger since he entered the world. Other fights had been difficult, and sometimes they felt like winning was going to be downright impossible, but he had never been seriously hurt. He hadn’t ever been gashed so badly his life bar was going to empty and cause him to perish. In a blind grasp to control the situation, he turned around as quickly as he could and pounced on the ninja who had just stabbed him. I don’t want to die . . . His mind was still screaming as he stabbed her with his sword. She hadn’t gone down without a fight, the blade still firmly protruding from his leg bore tribute to the penalty he had paid for attacking her.
“He . . . He’s weak! Get him!” the injured group leader screamed from the ground.
Two more of the ninjas started barreling towards him in an attack formation, the same charge pattern that had left him so weak, so crippled. I can’t stop them both. Stephanie, where are you, I c . . . Darwin was beginning to feel the life slip out of him. I can’t stop them . . . He pulled himself together, cleared his head. He didn’t have but a second before they hit, and he had no idea how to block them. As they came in reach though, he gave up on the concept altogether. If I have to die, you have to die too! he shouted at them in his mind, too weak and mentally drained from the wound to put voice to the words as he waited for the last minute and then lashed out at both of them with his swords. Success . . . he thought, seeing their bodies fall before him, but the feeling of joy from the kills was short lived. They had landed their marks too. His knees buckled then collapsed to the ground, and slowly he fell forward onto his face, the force driving the sword in his leg even deeper. Bye-bye . . . he muttered to himself as the world went dark.
Soul Devourer has been activated and consumed your 44 soul charges. You have been restored to full life and will have a +50% increase on all stat values for 220 seconds after the resurrection process is complete.