“Next time,” he mumbled into Stephi’s ear while hanging on to her shoulders, “I’m going to take a skill in horsemanship, or whatever. And buy a pony.”
“Next time,” she whispered back between breaths, “I see… any place… that sells drugs… I’m getting… a bottle… of steroids… make that… two bottles.”
The second time, around three o’clock when she carried Glenn again, he really felt bad. But, guilty as he was, there was just no way he could do it. And he was on the tall end for a gnome. Heck, a gnome marathon runner would have trouble. But there was no arguing. They needed to make the best time possible. Travel in the swamp and finding the cultist’s outpost, despite the map that gave a general location, and the locating crystal, might take longer than expected. And the clock for Kim was ticking.
They met a lot of merchants and farmers and peddlers on the road, and had more than a few on wagons pass them by. But as they passed more and more dirt roads that connected with the main road, the fewer people they encountered.
Blizz kept to himself. He spent most of his time sneaking peeks at Stephi and carrying on a whispered, one way conversation with Bristle. Lunch consisted of water, salt pork and dried apples. As nightfall approached, Ron led them off the road to a meadow area. They had a cold camp because a fire might attract attention. Before dark, and after their tent was up, Ron assigned watches.
Derek was the only human, with limited ability to see at night, so he was teamed with Ron. Stephi had the best ears, and Glenn’s night vision was better than hers, but both were considered too inexperienced to be teamed with Derek. It was obvious Ron wanted to keep Derek separated from Glenn as much as possible. Even with Kirby and Stephi, he sensed a schism.
So Ron and Derek got first watch from nine until midnight. Kirby and Blizz took second watch, from midnight until three, and Stephi and Glenn watched until sunrise.
Sitting quietly, listening and watching, and trying to ignore the mosquitoes wore at Glenn’s nerves. It was stressful, knowing there were creatures out there like ogres and goblins, and worse. Yet, constantly straining to see or hear, or even smell danger was hard. His mind wandered. He thought about home, and about college and classes. He thought about Stephi, trying to replicate her elven beauty in his mind’s eye, and he thought about getting beat up by those three thugs, and Derek standing aside, watching. From loss, to interest boarding on lust, which made him feel weird and guilty, to anger and resentment, his mind wandered. And started over again.
Finally, Petie abandoned his tree limb and landed on Stephi’s shoulder as the first rays emerged over the horizon.
One more day, and then into the swamp.
Glenn gathered sticks for Ron, who used the everlast candle to light a quick fire. Kirby brought back water from a nearby stream while Derek took down the simple A-frame tent and Stephi stood watch, with Petie’s overhead assistance. Blizz saw to his donkey and to packing him. Everything didn’t run like clockwork, but nothing was too complicated.
Near the end of their watch Glenn had used a little healing, just before dawn, to get the soreness out of his legs. He healed Stephi’s soreness as well. That earned him a smile and a hug.
The smile and hug couldn’t shake off the fact that Glenn dreaded what lay ahead. Derek didn’t help when he suggested, “Jax, while we’re eating breakfast, you should get on the road and get a head start.”
Blizz started to laugh along with Derek, but saw Kirby’s sneer and Stephi’s frown and changed it to a cough.
Ron glared at the still laughing warrior. “Kalgore, knock it off.”
The day’s travel mirrored the last, except for fewer people encountered on the road. Ron’s pace began to challenge everyone. Besides Glenn, Blizz began to show fatigue, dragging his sandaled-feet and occasionally stumbling. It got worse when they veered off the road and toward the swamp.
Kirby finally spoke up from the back as they wove around a patch of birch trees. “Lysine, dude.”
Ron signaled for everyone to stop. He observed the five travelers behind him, including the donkey. “It appears a brief rest is imperative.”
“More than that,” Kirby said. “Not everyone has your endurance score. What do you have, a fifteen or sixteen?”
“Fifteen.”
“What good’ll it do if we get there but can hardly stand?”
Ron checked the placement of the sun in the sky. “The Dark Heart Swamp is almost certain to offer a more rigorous challenge.”
“Look, I’ve got a fifteen endurance too, and Kalgore probably has something close. I’ve got my goblin heritage—and they can run all night, so I ain’t tired, yet. But look at Jax, Marigold and Blizz. Even Bristle’s near beat.”
Glenn and Stephi had plopped down on the thistle-filled grass, breathing hard and passing a waterskin between them. Blizz and his donkey didn’t look much better.
“Possibly Derek can assist Jax—”
“No, dude! You’re not getting it.” Kirby stomped up to the warrior druid. “Look, we’re accepting you as the leader because you’re smart. Here and in the real world. But leading means knowing those on your team. What they can and can’t do.”
Kirby gestured to himself. “Dude, I’m not even in high school and I know that much.”
Blizz wandered over to Glenn and Stephi, and crouched down in front of them. “What’s he going on about? Scores? And high schools?”
After thinking a moment, Glenn said, “Slang.” He shrugged and took another drink of water. “You might’ve guessed we’re not from this…region.”
“Where are you from?”
The gnome scratched his head, not knowing how to answer.
“Ohio,” Stephi said.
Blizz grinned wide, probably just happy she was talking to him. “Never, ahh, never… heard of it.”
Stephi leaned close to the old half-goblin and smiled wide, causing the flustered animal handler to stutter even more.
Gotta … a must be a… ahh… astonishing… a great place, if you come from there.”
Petie swooped down and landed on Stephi’s left shoulder. “Nope,” she said, reaching up and rubbing the blue jay’s chest with her index finger. “It’s boring.”
Sensing he might’ve overplayed his welcome, Blizz stood. “Well, Miss Marigold.” He took a deep, stabilizing breath. “I’m happy you—and Jax—are here from Oh-hi-o.”
Glenn got up and wandered over to where Kirby and Ron were still talking. Derek stood nearby, scanning the countryside while listening.
“I know we can’t anticipate delays and complications,” Kirby said. “But you want to wear us out, here on the road, and us then trying to rest up in a swamp? Boggy with water everywhere. Bugs, snakes and alligators, or worse?”
Ron definitely wasn’t enthused about his leadership being challenged. He turned and addressed Glenn. “What is your opinion of the situation?”
Glenn folded his arms. “I’m tired, but probably can heal the stiffness like I did before sunrise. For Marigold too. It’s been years since I played an RPG like this—well not like this…”
Kirby said, “We know what you mean.”
“Well, I’m guessing that a swamp will be even harder for a gnome like me. The donkey too, if it gets really mucky.” Glenn fell quiet a moment in thought, trying to figure a way to avoid having to let Derek give him a piggy back ride. “Kalgore might not be able to carry me, even if you want him to.” He pointed back at Blizz and Bristle. “His muscles might be needed for helping the donkey.”
Ron nodded. “Understood. It is my hope that we will come across some form of path or route that is elevated above the water table. We may not encounter it immediately, but I find it difficult to believe an outpost would be set up without an effective network for travel.”
“This is a game world, with weird rules,” Kirby said. “Or they might have some flat boats.” He grinned conspiratorially. “If they do, me and Jax are stealing one.”
Glenn was right. The Dark Heart Swamp wa
s worse. On the third morning they entered the mucky morass. Mostly it was calf deep, which meant knee or thigh deep for him. Harmless frogs and birds, and some snakes that may or may not be harmless, mostly gave the stomping bipeds, and the single quadruped, wide berth.
There were patches of broad-leafed plants and ferns, mostly where a tall cypress or other swamp tree, or two, had fallen, letting a little additional light down. That didn’t mean it was easy to see a great distance. The trunks of the bald cypresses and tupelo trees conspired to create a wall of sorts.
Glenn was largely covered in duckweed, tiny round floating leaves. Each time he stumbled or tripped over a submerged branch, more of him was covered, like some sort of bright green gauge of misery. The more of him that was covered, the more of him that was soggy-wet. It also meant another leech, or two, probably found purchase.
Kirby and Blizz seemed the most at home, despite their relatively short stature. Stephi was still fuming from a debate, where Derek demanded Petie scout ahead for danger. Stephi refused, arguing if it was dangerous, he was only a bird and could get killed.
Ron suggested a compromise solution, which worked for Stephi, and left Derek bitter—which wasn’t anything new as far as Glenn was concerned. The blue jay would fly ahead, keeping within Stephi’s sight. That effectively doubled the party’s visual and auditory range without prematurely revealing themselves to anyone or anything they might approach.
Ron had stopped again to get his bearings, and check the crystal for any sign of nearing the Hades outpost.
Off to Stephi’s right, on a float of weeds and lily pads, a large flower bud, the size of a football, began to bloom, its petals unfolding like a series of miniature drawbridges.
“Don’t go near it!” Ron warned.
“I’m not stupid,” Stephi replied. “I’ve seen enough horror movies. Anything beautiful in this god-awful place has got to be evil.”
From a half dozen yards behind her, Kirby teased, “Does that include you, Marigold?”
She took a careful step away from the newly revealed flower. “Whatever, dude,” she replied, mimicking his voice as best she could. She took a second careful step away from the orange flower.
Kirby, who was helping Blizz lead Bristle far around the potential menace, laughed. “Whatever.”
Glenn, who was five or six feet further away from the flower, with Stephi between it and him, said, “Don’t mess around.” He high stepped over a sunken branch or root. “If Lysine says it’s dangerous.”
The tall elf was halfway through taking another cautious step away, saying, “Worry about yourself and—”
Her words transformed to a surprised yelp, before she screamed as something yanked her off her feet. She landed with a splash, ending up partially submerged.
A second later, Stephi came up, arms flailing to grab something.
“It’s got her!” Glenn shouted. Not like anyone needed that explanation. He turned and climbed back over the submerged root toward her.
Ron shouted, “Jax, stay back,” as he hurled his spear at the flower’s base.
Tube-like tendrils emerged from the water around the floating plant mat that supported the flower. They looked like nasty lampreys, with pointy toothed maws opening and closing. Every tendril within a 180-degree span stretched toward Stephi. In the meantime, something had her by the leg, and dragged her closer.
Glenn dove forward and grabbed one of her hands. All that did was take away her purchase, causing her head to go under. He planted his feet and prepared to pull back when something sickly gray, like a squid’s tentacle, came out of the water and wrapped around his forearm.
Overhead, Petie screeched in alarm. Ron shouted, “I shall follow you in, Kalgore!”
The two warriors raced through the shallow water with swords held high, ignoring the pull of mud and submerged branches. Derek hacked down two-handed into the water, again and again. He ducked and slashed with his long sword, severing a tentacle that shot out of the water and attempted to latch onto him.
Kirby swung his cutlass down into the mud-churned water just beyond Stephi’s foot.
Something attempted to tug Glenn off his feet. He didn’t have a sword or a knife so, in desperation, he bit into the tentacle wrapped around his wrist. He’d done the same thing when two guys jumped him in eighth grade. That time his teeth found a thumb, and he got one of the guys to back off. This time the target was mushy, without a bone. Slimy and tough as burlap.
Glenn’s tongue and lips went numb. He began spitting to eject any poison and ended up taking in water. But his tactic worked. The tentacle let go.
He half-floated, half crab-walked away from the flower and its entrapping tentacles.
Kirby helped Stephi to her feet, and she limped away from the battle. Seeing her safe, with cutlass cocked back over his shoulder, he rushed to enter the fray.
Ron was perched atop the plant mound, stabbing and hacking with his short sword. Derek continued slashing and hacking at any tentacles that threatened Ron, or came his way. Sometimes he severed them, other times his blade just knocked them away. Kirby’s blade tipped the balance.
In another moment, the battle was over. Both swordsman backed away, winded. Kirby sheathed his cutlass and used Ron’s spear to jab into the flower monster, making sure it was dead.
“A carnivorous bog lily,” Derek said.
Ron nodded and sheathed his sword. “Third expansion module. Published prior to the Tome of Monster’s release.”
“A third rank monster,” Kirby added. “Must’ve been an old one. Usually they can’t attack anyone more than twelve feet away.”
Glenn would’ve said something but his tongue lolled around in his mouth, like when he’d gotten shots of Novocain at the dentist. Still trying not to swallow, he hurried over to the mule, past Stephi. She stood, completely drenched in mud and duckweed, leaning heavily on her right leg.
“You okay, Jax?”
Glenn reached the donkey that Blizz had managed to keep calm and under control, and unslung one of the half-goblin handler’s wineskins. He squirted the contents in his mouth and spit it out.
“Hey, gnome,” Blizz said, and reached for his wineskin.
Glenn turned away and washed his mouth out again with the weak cherry wine, managing to hold onto the wineskin despite the slight numbness in his right wrist.
“Ouw-wy,” he said, and corked the end before handing it back to the complaining half-goblin. “Oi-i i-eye ouw.” Some of the worry retreated when Glenn realized he didn’t feel the numbness spreading.
Ron made it to Glenn, while Kirby helped Stephi hobble over to a tree so she could lean against it. Petie was already perched on one of the low branches, peering down at her intently.
“He bit the tentacle that had him,” Kirby said to Ron.
Glenn nodded.
“That was a dumb-ass move, gnome.” Derek sheathed his sword across his back. “The tentacles have poison that paralyses you.”
Glenn would’ve said, “I know that now,” but knew it wouldn’t come out intelligible, and would just give Derek another excuse to say something else.
Ron examined Glenn’s numb wrist. “A bold, if not desperate move, Jax.” He signaled for Glenn to look up and open his mouth. “Absence of bleeding. You managed to not bite your cheek or tongue.” He smiled. “The effect’s duration is one hour, plus three to eighteen minutes. You shall be unable to talk, or cast any spells until the neurotoxin wears off.”
He put an arm around Glenn’s shoulder and led him over toward where Stephi stood. Derek was there, and she was thanking him for his bravery.
The warrior grinned, winked, and said it was nothing.
Ron commented in a matter of fact tone, “You might be wondering, Jax. You will remain unable to neutralize any poisons until you reach fifth rank. You may heal any physical damage a toxin inflicts upon a victim, such as the bite of a brown recluse spider. However, a toxin that causes paralysis affects the nervous system’s ability to functio
n, not causing direct injury. Thus, it cannot be healed, so to speak.”
The warrior druid scanned the area to get his bearings. “There was a somewhat dry area, at least six inches above the waterline, about one hundred yards back that direction. We shall retire there until everyone is recovered and prepared to continue.”
Chapter 21
After recovering from the battle with the carnivorous flower, the party travelled only another few hours. They discovered a sort of above water oasis formed by several trees that had fallen the same direction. A large bull alligator had claimed it as a hunting ground, until Derek’s sword and Ron’s spear converted it to dinner rations.
The bottom of the crystal started to turn black and Ron estimated only a few hours travel. Better to arrive in daylight to assess the situation than at night, tired and in need of rest, and possibly depleted of spells.
Glenn volunteered for leech duty. Ron had the foresight to pack two waterproof pouches filled with salt. Glenn would’ve never thought of it.
When Stephi’s turn came, Derek said, “If you find any too far up her leg that you can’t reach, Jax. Let me know.”
Stephi rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything. Glenn just shook his head.
Kirby looked up from oiling his cutlass. “And they don’t need anybody to stand guard nearby, Kalgore. Petie’s got that.”
“If one of them calls for help, how will I know the difference between the gnome and the bird?”
Glenn couldn’t hold his tongue. “Because the bird’s brain is the same size as yours.”
Derek threw down his helmet. “Hey, gnome, who was it that saved your waddling little ass today?”
“You mean the ass that you’ll be expecting to waddle up and heal your dumb one?”
Outpost: A LitRPG Adventure (Monsters, Maces and Magic Book 1) Page 17