Derek and Glenn both had sacks of food slung over their shoulder. They’d found a decent short bow with a dozen arrows for a reasonable price. They’d just left the jeweler Keri had recommended, with Glenn carrying Stephi’s silver ring in his pocket, fitted with an oval turquoise stone to replace the bartered ruby. The stone wasn’t of superior quality, but only cost four copper coins, and was better than wearing a ring without a gem or stone setting.
It was late afternoon and Glenn scurried to keep up with Derek’s long strides. The guy was moody and unpredictable, but the best warrior they had.
They moved along a secondary street that undulated around buildings and their porches that jutted out into it. Older construction, and poor inhabitants and shop owners, made Glenn wary.
“You, gnome. Stop!” a male voice shouted from behind.
Glenn’s first instinct was to ignore whoever it was and keep moving, but he turned to see who it was. What if it was one of the duke’s men on patrol?
A man wearing a fine silk shirt, black linen vest that matched his breeches and knee-height boots strode forward, eyes on Glenn. The man’s long wavy hair flowed behind and his rapier bounced on his hip. Two men, both heavy set, wearing rougher garments and worn boots followed. One had a mace hanging on his belt much like Glenn’s cudgel that hung on the gnome’s hip. The other brutish man carried what looked like a sheathed machete. The two near parallel scars, reaching from his whisker-faced cheek to his chin, afforded him an even greater “bad-ass” look.
Glenn took a few steps back, wondering if Derek was behind him. He was afraid to take his eyes off the approaching men for a second to look.
“What do you think they want?” Derek asked. “Could be they’ve mistaken you for another gnome. Maybe you all look alike to us humans.”
Glenn didn’t think so. He’d seen one dwarf, a few elves and half-elves and, besides Keri’s neighbors, only two other half-goblins among the thousands of human citizens in the city. Not one gnome. Not even a half-gnome, if there was such a thing.
“You, gnome.” The fancily dressed young man, maybe in his mid-twenties, stopped two strides away from Glenn and pointed down at him. “I want my ring back.”
Glenn got a sinking feeling but didn’t let it show on his face. “Have we met?” Glenn forced a smile. “I don’t believe we have, and I’m sure I don’t have your ring.”
“You were up on that stage,” he said, leaning down. “At the Bugle, working with that dancing elf slut.”
From behind, Derek snorted.
“I was at the Bugle recently,” Glenn admitted, “but I don’t recall meeting you.”
“I lost my ring there, that night, and just came from Jaspar’s.” He stood up straight and proud. “My uncle knows a magician, who said I’d find it there.
“Jaspar said he’d just fitted a turquoise stone in a ring that looked just like mine, silver with roses on the side.”
The two big men on either side of the accuser nodded once in affirmation.
Jaspar was the name of the jeweler they’d just left.
“He said there wasn’t a ruby in it. I want my ring back, and the ruby.”
Glenn decided upon a half truth and shrugged. “Honest, sir, I don’t have what you’re looking for. Maybe it got lost in the shuffle, but I didn’t pick up any rings on stage. If you or someone threw it, it might still be there, somewhere.”
“No, it was on the table, gnome. Covering a bet. I had a full house, kings over tens. Then it was gone.” A sneer crossed his face. “And now my girlfriend doesn’t have her ring, and there’s no reason for the magician that directed me to Jaspar’s to lie. And for Jaspar to tell me a gnome just left with such a ring, minus the ruby.”
The man grinned wickedly. “We’re gonna search you to see if you’re telling the truth. If you are, no harm. If you aren’t, you’re gonna pay in bruises and busted bones.”
“Kalgore?” Glenn asked over his shoulder.
Boots shuffling away said more than his words. “I don’t have a stake in this.”
Glenn pulled his shield, but not his cudgel. He stood no chance, three on one, with or without weapons. So why invite them.
Everyone else on the street was either watching or pretending to not notice.
“My cousin’s one of the guards patrolling this area,” the young man said. “Don’t expect help from that quarter.”
With that, the two burly men stepped forward faster than Glenn could back away, and surrounded him.
“Looks like he ain’t gonna let us search him, boys.” The young man lifted a quick glance beyond Glenn, confirming that Derek wasn’t going to get involved, then nodded.
The scar-faced man kicked at Glenn. He dropped his sack of food and blocked the kick with his shield. He spun back to fend off the young man trying to grab hold of him. That left Glenn open to a punch in the back of the head. The blow knocked the gnome forward, but he kept his feet.
Someone yanked his shield off his arm. Glenn swung a roundhouse punch, catching one of the thugs in the gut. That was the only blow he got in before boots and fists left him bleeding on the ground.
Glenn refrained from healing himself, because they’d just beat him up again.
“A couple more good kicks should knock him out, boys. Then we’ll take what he has.”
Curling up to protect himself, Glenn reached into his pocket and withdrew his handkerchief. He unwrapped it and almost dropped the green stone when a boot connected with his kidneys. But he managed to shove it in his mouth and swallow.
No more kicks or punches landed on him.
“Aww, this ain’t worth it,” the young man grumbled. “Come on, let’s go get a beer at Collago’s”
Glenn could hardly move, every muscle ached, and he was pretty sure he had a few cracked ribs, and probably a bleeding kidney. Lying on the ground, he twisted his head enough to see the three men walking away, and Derek bending over to pick up his shield.
“Heal yourself and get it over with,” the warrior said.
Glenn had already started, mumbling the incantation to release the healing energy. An eternity, or really six or seven seconds later, the warmth of healing coursed through his body, reaching every bruised muscle or organ, and every cracked bone.
“Why’d they stop before searching you?” Derek asked, offering Glenn his shield and sack of food they’d purchased.
The gnome climbed to his feet, looking at the blood and street dirt on his tunic and pants.
“Thanks for nothing, Kalgore the Courageous.”
Activity on the street returned to normal and Kalgore handed Glenn his shield and sack while leaning close so nobody could hear him. “They were after stolen property, which you’re carrying.”
“They beat the crap out of me and you watched.” Glenn didn’t keep his voice low, and started walking, not caring if Derek followed. “They were going to take everything I had.”
“I’d’ve stopped them from doing that,” Derek assured.
“Whatever,” Glenn said, not looking at the warrior pacing him on his left.
“Why’d they just stop and go for a drink?” Derek grabbed Glenn’s shoulder and spun the gnome to face him. “You swallowed your sanctuary stone!”
“What’d you expect me to do?” Glenn turned away and continued walking, almost running into the wheel of a parked wagon. He sidestepped and continued on. “You heard what they said. I was about ready to spit up a ruptured kidney, and they were going to take everything I had.”
“You’re a frikkin’ idiot, Jax. We’re gonna need that stone.”
“I need my kidney too, Kalgore.” Glenn walked faster, but realized there was no way he could outpace Derek. “They were going to take anything I had once I was unconscious, so why not use it?”
“I told you, I wouldn’t’ve let them.”
“Just shut up, you coward.”
Derek stepped ahead of Glenn, fist balled and arm cocked, ready to punch. “What’d you say?”
“You heard me.”
Derek’s face puckered in anger. He dropped his fist. “Damn spell. You’re lucky.”
“Why don’t we each find our own way back to the Glade House,” Glenn said. “We’ll both be happier.”
Kirby, Glenn and Stephi sat in the Glade House’s parlor. It was better than their stuffy little room. At the moment no other boarding house patrons were in there. The coal wagon train master and the ink salesman had finished their game of checkers, and went out to sit on the benches in front of the Glade’s flower beds.
The meal of salted pork and dried apples Glenn had for dinner wasn’t sitting well in his stomach.
“I should’ve just let them have the ring,” Glenn said. “Kalgore’s right. It’s stolen property.”
“Like hell,” Stephi said, putting her arm around the gnome’s shoulder. “We’re supposed to stick together.”
Kirby slammed his fist down on the arm of his padded chair. “He’s just sore being overruled about party treasure.”
“He was right, though, about those guys. It was their ring.”
“Dude, who throws their girlfriend’s ring into a pot in a poker game?”
“He said he had a full house, kings over tens.”
“I’d been watching the table, and took a few gold from it, with the ring. The dude across from him had a straight flush. Eight of clubs high. So he was going to lose it anyway.”
That didn’t make Glenn feel any better. “Think Lysine can settle him down?”
Stephi’s hands balled into fists. “I don’t trust him as far as you or Gurk can throw him.”
“They’ve played Monsters, Maces and Magic together plenty of times,” Kirby said, gesturing with his hands. “Lots of other games too. They know a party that doesn’t work together ends up dying. Derek may be a jerk, but it’ll be his life on the line if he doesn’t cooperate.”
Stephi threw her hands in the air, struggling to keep her voice down. “This isn’t a game, Gurk.”
Glenn nodded in agreement.
“I know, our lives are on the line.”
“Byeol’s life is on the line,” Stephi said. “She’s why we’re risking ours.”
Glenn’s stomach gurgled. He rubbed it and groaned.
Stephi pulled the ring from her finger and flung it onto the floor.
In an instant, Kirby was up and scrambling to grab it from beneath the chair beside him. “Don’t be like that, Marigold,” he scolded. “First, we ain’t rich. Second, if you stop wearing it, Kalgore wins.”
“You’re right,” she said. “Give it here.”
The thief tossed it to her. She deftly snatched it out of the air and slid it on her long, slender finger. “Don’t think this means we’re going steady, my little man.”
“Ha!” he said. “Keri said she left a few pieces of bread crust for Petie on the counter, remember? Why don’t you go out and feed him. Me and Jax are gonna play a game of checkers.”
After she retrieved the bread scraps from the kitchen, and the wide-brimmed straw hat Keri had pulled out of storage, Stephi went out front to join the Glade owner and several of the other patrons. She angled the hat on her head to conceal her face without totally blinding herself.
She modeled it for Glenn and Kirby.
The two men laughed before Kirby waved her out. He then went over to sit by Glenn on the couch.
The gnome stopped leveraging himself out of the soft couch. “I thought we were going to play checkers?”
“We can, if you want.” Kirby’s eyes shifted to the other room and he tipped his head, allowing his half-goblin ears, with their downward-pointed lobes, to listen. “You can trust the enemy to work against you. But there’s no way you can prepare for your friends to turn on you. Whatever you can’t prepare for, tends to be fatal.”
Glenn thought about what Kirby said. It seemed deeper, or maybe wiser than his junior high years. Maybe it was game experience talking. He nodded agreement.
“If he turns on us, through action or inaction, Jax, I’m gonna stealth attack him.”
A little vomit came up Glenn’s throat. He swallowed it down. “You’re going to kill him?”
“I get a surprise bonus on my attack roll, and double damage. But I’m a thief, with only a cutlass. He’s a fighter with a lot of hit points. It’ll knock him down to size but, unless he’s already hurt, he’ll survive—unless I get a lucky critical strike.”
“Uh huh,” was all Glenn could say.
“So, Jax.” Kirby’s eyes locked with Glenn’s.
They were dark, yellow irises around large pupils, almost the shape of a cat’s eyes. They were grim and determined.
“Ummm, Yeah?” Glenn said.
“So, if he betrays us, and I go after him—retaliate—maybe not at that exact moment…will you back me up?”
Glenn thought hard. Would that be murder? Killing wasn’t in his nature, but he’d fought and helped kill goblins and that ogre. But they were monsters, trying to kill him. There was something else, maybe his alignment from the game, and his gnomish nature. He swallowed hard, and nodded, biting his lower lip.
One of Kirby’s eyes closed to a squint. “You sure?”
“If he betrays us, I’ll attack him too.”
“He let those guys kick the crap out of you without lifting a finger.”
Glenn gritted his teeth, remembering the pain, and the betrayal he felt when Derek backed away while things were going south.
Kirby looked around again, conspiratorially. It could be his goblin heritage showing through. “Don’t tell Marigold, or especially Lysine.”
“Why not?”
“She doesn’t need to know, and she’ll back us. Lysine? He’ll probably spend a round in game time analyzing what’s happening, so we’ll have to be fast. After it’s done, he’ll reason out that it was the right thing to do.” Kirby shrugged. “In the end he won’t have a choice.”
Kirby scratched behind an ear. “There’s something shady going on between those two anyway. Something they’re not sharing with us.”
Absentmindedly, Glenn nodded and sat back in the couch. In all of his years, from junior high into college, he’d never seriously contemplated killing anyone. Not even close. He didn’t even like to get into fights.
Being an accomplice to murder? Yet here he was, agreeing to it.
“I can see doubt in you,” Kirby said. “Look, it’ll be Kalgore’s choice.” The thief stood and grabbed both of the gnome’s shoulders, pulling him forward, meeting the gnome’s eyes up close. “He betrays us once, risks our lives—heck, we might not even get the chance because his actions—or inaction—might get us killed.”
Kirby let go of Glenn’s shoulders. “He makes the choice. We’re just responding. Cause and effect.”
Ron was okay, but he just didn’t see things like he and Kirby did.
Glenn realized he would do it, not so much for himself, but for Kirby and Stephi. And for Kim.
That didn’t mean he’d sleep any easier come nightfall. The night before undertaking an adventure to steal a magical necklace from a cult of Hades worshipers, Hades, the god of the dead and underworld? And now the pact with Kirby?
Glenn felt like he might never sleep again.
Chapter 20
The party was up before sunrise and ready to go.
Glenn had pretty much been forced to sleep on a thin mattress scrunched beneath Stephi’s fold-down bunk. He thought the cramped confines would cause him trouble, even when weighed against sleeping on the floor between the bunks and risk getting stepped on by anyone getting up to use the chamber pot room down the hall. Much to Glenn’s surprise, he’d slept soundly. Maybe his gnomish nature had once again aided him. Or maybe he’d just been dead tired.
Stephi hadn’t really slept much, normal for being an elf, and had been the first one up.
Everyone packed their gear, and prepared their spells. The only content for the locker in the cellar was Kim’s spear, so Keri agreed to set it aside, no charge. The oatmeal wasn’t read
y but the young girl, Elise, offered them a drink of apple cider and a flimsy sack filled with uncooked oatmeal flakes.
Outside the front door a bandy-legged old man approached leading a donkey. Glenn thought they were going to get a mule, but funds and negotiations hadn’t worked out. It took a smile and a wink from Stephi to secure the services of Blizz, an elderly half-goblin, and his donkey, Bristle.
Not many appeared excited about venturing into the Dark Heart Swamp. Ron had insisted in upfront honesty about that, rather than risk a revolt later on.
Blizz wore baggy pants and sandals and a tattered wool shirt covered by what Glenn would call a canvas poncho with a hood. He had a satchel over one shoulder, and several wineskins and a hand axe attached to the pack saddle.
The elderly half-goblin waved to Ron, but had his eyes and sharp-toothed grin on Stephi.
Ron directed Derek to help Blizz secure their tent, food sacks, cooking gear and wineskins filled with water to the long-eared donkey.
At least Bristle looked younger and in better condition than Blizz.
“You gonna make it more than five miles, old man?” Derek asked.
“I expect.”
Glenn noted that Blizz had the same croaking tone to his voice that Kirby did. And Roary, come to think of it.
“Least ways,” Blizz continued, “I can match steps with a gnome.”
That drew a laugh from Derek. “I like you already.”
Leaving the city was easier than entering, as the guards didn’t seem to notice or care. Once out on the road, Ron assigned an order of march. He took the lead, with his spear resting on his shoulder, and Derek at his side. Then Stephi and Glenn, followed by Blizz leading Bristle. Kirby was to bring up the rear and watch out for any surprises from behind.
Ron set a brisk walk that left Glenn trotting half the time to keep up, something no one had really anticipated. It was unlike their trip to reach Three Hills City, accomplished on horse-drawn wagons. Experienced gamers and GMs apparently glossed over disparity in travel rates, despite a gnome’s slower movement rate listed in the Monsters, Maces and Magic rule books.
Old Blizz had kept his promise and had no problem keeping pace with Glenn. Actually, he was pretty darn fit for a bald, bandy-legged old guy. By noon, at her insistence, Stephi gave Glenn a piggy-back ride for a half hour. While her strength and endurance weren’t great, her size helped. Derek should’ve been the one to help, but he didn’t volunteer and Glenn wasn’t about to ask.
Outpost: A LitRPG Adventure (Monsters, Maces and Magic Book 1) Page 16