Ron stood up from examining his map. “Enough, gentlemen. Polite ribbing can occasionally proceed too far.”
Derek picked up his helmet. “Go bite a tentacle, gnome. I liked it better when you couldn’t talk.”
A sharp look from Ron earned a, “My bad,” from Derek.
Kirby gave Glenn an exasperated look. Derek was a jerk, but he’d raced into combat on behalf of the party without hesitation.
Stephi and Glenn made their way behind a pair of nearby fallen logs. They both checked for snakes, spiders and centipedes. Both satisfied, she sat down while he opened one of Ron’s sacks of salt.
“Keep your hands and eyes where they belong,” she teased with a playful wink, and placed her hands on her breasts. “And, of course, these are definitely off limits.”
Glenn sighed and frowned. He realized she was trying to make light of what was an uncomfortable circumstance. He wasn’t in the mood. “Boots off and we’ll start checking there first.”
“Ooh, you’re a foot man today, Jax. Kinky.”
Glenn slammed the salt sack down on the log. “Tell you what. You check everywhere you can see. Then look through Petie’s eyes for places you can’t.” He turned and faced out into the swamp. “I’ll do the watching for danger for him.”
Stephi reached out and placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Jax, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Marigold.” He took a step forward, moving beyond her arm’s reach. “If you find any leeches you can’t get, let me know.”
Chapter 22
Before noon the next day, the black had moved up from the bottom of the crystal. A few false turns allowed Ron to pinpoint the exact direction they needed to travel.
“Less than a half mile that direction,” Ron said, his arm extended and pointing what Glenn estimated to be a little north of direct west. “This way.”
He led the group north about fifty yards, reaching another dry oasis, this one with a few tall ferns and leafy shrubs filled with tiny white flowers. “Blizz, you should be able to wait here and remain out of sight.”
“Half mile that way is where you’re heading?” Blizz stood on his toes, looking the general direction Ron had pointed a few moments before.
“Correct.”
“Don’t take this wrong, but which way should I go, Mr. Lysine, should something bad happen to you all?”
Derek snorted. Glenn was pretty sure it was holding back laughter rather than anger.
“That’s kind of morbid,” Stephi whispered down to Glenn.
Kirby came up behind them. “It’s what I’d ask if I was in his shoes.”
“Will he be safe here, by himself?” she asked.
Glenn didn’t have an answer to her question. By himself, out in a swamp with the name Dark Heart? He wouldn’t admit it in front of Derek, but at night, he’d be completely scared. He thought about the claw marks they’d spotted twelve feet up on a cypress tree’s trunk a while back. Ron said they were from a bear marking its territory. But he wasn’t able to find any bear tracks.
Kirby suggested it could be the marks of a basilisk, chimera, or even a small dragon.
Glenn didn’t know what a basilisk was, but he knew what the other two might be. Even worse, neither Derek nor Ron disagreed with Kirby’s assessment. Instead, they speculated how old the mark was, and how large of a territory such monsters were supposed to have. The Monster Guide didn’t list specifics on territorial areas. Not that any of them, except possibly Ron, could remember such minor details.
Blizz spat into the water. “Don’t worry on me, Mr. Jax. Lysine paid well for the risk. Half up front, which I left in the city. Half upon return.” He shrugged. “Been through this sort of thing dozens of times over the years.” He pointed at Glenn and smiled. “It’s you who’s walking into real danger.”
Glenn didn’t think his smile was sinister. It was tough to have a friendly smile with half a mouth full of pointed teeth.
“Two days,” Ron said to Blizz. “If we fail to return by sunrise on the third day, make your way back.” He pointed the direction, southeast. “Approach the proprietor of the Glade House to receive the balance of the fee for your services.”
“Lovelace,” he said, with his eyebrows pinching together. “Hopin’ I don’t find myself in need to do that, Mr. Lysine.”
Glenn was hunkered down, looking at what had to be the place. The location confirmed what the now fully black crystal indicated.
Derek was on his right and Ron on his left, peering over the same fallen conifer’s trunk. Kirby had skirted around and ahead to get a better look while Stephi sat behind them, her eyes unfocused as she used the connection with her familiar to observe through his eyes and ears.
A large mound, at least seventy feet in diameter, rose a dozen feet above the swamp. Scattered trees, twisted and stunted in their growth, and mangy-looking ferns made for a landscaper’s nightmare, unless they created something for Halloween. In the center someone had erected a stone building the size of a shed. It lacked windows from what Glenn could see. Only a doorway framed with dry-rotted wood, without a door.
That wasn’t what caused him indigestion.
He could blame it on the breakfast of raw frog legs and crayfish that Kirby and Blizz had gathered. He and Stephi wanted to at least cook the frog legs over his everlast candle, but Ron nixed the notion. The smell of fire, however small, and cooked flesh might attract unwanted attention. Glenn was going to argue that, until he remembered the claw marks of the bear, or chimera, or dragon, or basilisk—whatever that was.
The only thing that had made Glenn feel better was using his healing spells just before sunrise to cure the multitude of mosquito and leech bites he and Stephi had collected. The local mosquito population, some of which he believed had the potential to grow to the size of humming birds, had subsequently moved on them, eliminating any sense of reprieve.
Now, he looked at the two skeletons, apparently human, standing erect. Human, if his recollection of the plastic model from high school anatomy was accurate. Each held a rusty shield in one hand and a mace in the other. They might’ve been plastic models, a little on the short side, with bits of swamp moss dangling among their ribs, except for the fact that Glenn and his friends were planning to infiltrate an outpost dedicated to worshipping Hades. He was the god of the dead and underworld. If the world they found themselves in had ogres and elves, and giant carnivorous flowers, why not animated skeletons that could pulverize you with a wicked-looking mace?
After twenty minutes of silent watching, Ron signaled for a quiet retreat. Before anyone moved, however, Stephi whispered, “Wait.”
A few minutes later a pair of men wearing chainmail armor and sheathed swords approached the mound from almost the opposite direction. Each led a sturdy pony burdened down with sacks and small wooden crates.
As the men circled wide around toward the entrance, the skeletons raised their shields and maces.
Both men pointed to a necklace with a pendant and said, “Hail Hades, King of the Underworld. Ruler of the Dead.”
The skeleton guards returned to their original stance and the men began to unload their mounts. One of them then took the ponies and returned the direction from which they’d arrived. The other began carrying the sacks and supplies into the structure. Each time he approached, the skeletons repeated their threatening stance, and he repeated the declaration about Hades and gestured to the pendant. That allowed him to step past and deposit his shouldered load.
Eventually the second man returned and helped by carrying in the last crate. He, like the other man, had to go through the ritual to get past the skeleton guards unmolested.
After an hour of additional silent observation, Kirby met up with them after circling back around. And after another half hour of seeing nobody else or anything of interest, Ron whispered to Stephi, “Have your familiar remain in the trees and observe.”
He then signaled everyone to retreat.
Once well out of earshot, eve
ryone huddled close.
Kirby was the first to speak, keeping his voice low. “They’ve got a lame stable. Four posts and a thatch roof. There’s like four ponies and two horses now. All black—go figure. And a lizard man dude. He doesn’t look like much. Skinny with ribs showing, but he’s watching the horses and ponies. There were two guys who arrived on the horses leading two ponies.”
Ron interrupted Kirby and asked him to describe the two men, and then went on to explain to Kirby what the rest of them had viewed at the outpost’s entrance.
“How do we get past the skeletons?” Glenn asked.
Kirby suggested, “Being a subclass of cleric, Lysine could repel them.”
“What’s that mean?” Stephi asked.
Ron pulled a wooden pendant attached to a leather strap from beneath his ring mail armor. It depicted a mountain in the background with a tree and a river in the foreground. “Using my faith in Gaia, who, within this aberrant concurrent world, I profess to worship, I am able to repel undead creatures.”
Anticipating more questions he added, “They would retreat from my presence for a brief span of minutes. If I were higher rank, I could banish such low-rank undead.”
“That means destroy them,” Kirby interjected.
“I can destroy them,” Derek said, placing a hand on the grip of his sword protruding over his shoulder.
At that moment, Derek reminded Glenn a lot of a character from Star Trek. He bit his lip and decided to throw the guy a complement. “Worf-style,” he said, and gave Derek a thumbs–up.
Derek’s face pinched in anger. “You calling me a dog, little gnome?”
Ron put a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Jax did not. He made reference to Lieutenant Worf, a Klingon security officer from Star Trek: The Next Generation. He was an honorable character, prone to suggesting violence as a solution.” Ron removed his hand from Derek’s shoulder. “Interpret Jax’s assertion as a compliment.”
“Oh,” Derek said, eying Glenn suspiciously. “Okay. Thanks, Jax.”
Glenn stared at Ron’s wooden pendant. Better to ignore the stupid warrior than attempt building any bridges.
Ron shook his head. “It may come to attacking them.” He steepled his fingers. “If I were successful in repelling the two skeletons, it is likely they would retreat into the outpost. Such an action could very easily alert someone within. And we may have to face them nevertheless, once we are inside.”
“They don’t seem too smart,” Stephi said. “Maybe Gurk could get on the roof and drop a sack on their heads so they don’t see us.”
“Creative,” Ron said, “but unlikely to be effective.”
“Can’t I just Slumber Spell them, then?”
“Slumber Spells do not affect the undead,” Ron explained. “They are effective only on creatures that have sleep as part of their biological routine. And only affects low-rank animals and creatures.”
“I got it,” Kirby said, grinning wickedly. “You said the guys could walk out of the entrance, without doing their hail and all, right?”
Ron nodded. “One of the individuals did repeatedly.”
“So, once we get past them, we won’t have to worry about them on the way out.”
“They seem pretty stupid for guards,” Stephi said.
“Mindless undead,” Ron agreed. “Limited in what they may be directed to do, but relentless in carrying out any instructions.”
“Wait,” Kirby said, reminding himself to keep his voice low. “Let me finish. If we get a Hades pendant, we can go in, one at a time.”
“With one pendant?” Derek asked.
“Sure, first guy goes in, saying the hail and pointing. Then tosses it out on the ground for the next dude. Repeat until finished.”
Ron bit his lip. “I believe that my serving of Gaia would prohibit such a phrase from passing my lips.”
“Or they might detect it as untrue,” Glenn added.
“No,” Ron said to Glenn. “It is unlikely skeletons would be able to discern words uttered in true belief as opposed to words recited as if from a script.”
“The dudes carried in sacks, right?”
Ron re-steepled his fingers. “That is correct, Gurk.”
“So we go back, get our tent canvas and roll you up in it, and Derek says the words and points to his pendant and carries you in. Heck, he could carry the tent back out and carry us all back in. Be less risky than tossing out a pendent for the next dude to pick up.”
“Gurk, not to piss on your idea,” Derek said, “but nobody here has a Hades pendant.”
Nobody but Ron could miss the sarcasm in the warrior’s voice, Glenn thought. And even then, he’d have to do it intentionally. Then an idea struck him. “Gurk, does the lizard man guy have one—a pendant?”
Kirby shook his head. “Not that I saw.”
“We may have to risk an immediate confrontation,” Ron said. “I could attempt to repel them which, if successful, would offer Kalgore and one more of us a free shot.”
“Attempt?” Stephi asked.
“It’s a roll of the dice,” Kirby explained. “He’s a first rank druid and skeletons are first rank monsters, so he’ll have roughly a fifty-fifty chance of success. If he worshipped a totally good—or white—god or goddess, he’d get a bonus added to his roll.”
Glenn rubbed his chin in thought. “Why don’t we stake out the place, at least until nightfall. Mainly the stables. Anyone coming or going would stop there and we could get their pendants.” He swallowed, thinking “get” probably involved killing them
“Why wait until night? I’m the best warrior and won’t be able to see, gnome. I’m human, remember?”
“And followers of Hades would be stronger in darkness,” Ron added.
“True,” Glenn said. “But we’re going to be underground anyway so day or night won’t matter. I know you have two torches that you’ve kept dry, Kalgore, and I have my everlast candle. Still, those guys we saw looked like humans. I bet they don’t go wandering around in the dark.” He looked to Ron. “Unless worshiping Hades gives them that ability?”
“Unlikely, Jax. Especially if they are low rank individuals.”
Glenn looked back up at Derek. “Plus, that’ll put us closer to dawn, when we can renew our spells, if we need them.”
After a moment of silence, Ron asked. “Any alternative suggestions?”
Nobody spoke up.
Ron rubbed his hands together. “We shall wait until just before nightfall for someone with a pendant to show up. If that falls through, while there is still daylight, we will approach the outpost’s entrance. I shall endeavor to repel the skeleton guards. Gurk and Kalgore will attack them, with Jax and myself to join in the following round of combat.”
They were staked out along what Kirby discovered as a path in the swamp, leading to the four-post stable with a thatch, watched over by the rib-thin lizard man.
Stephi, Glenn and Kirby were on one side of the path. Glenn thought it was a generous description, but they were in a swamp after all. On the other side of the path, Ron and Derek lay concealed behind a fallen log surrounded by ferns.
Petie remained on the trees near the outpost’s entry, watching for anyone entering or exiting.
Ron had his spear and Derek his bow and arrows. Kirby had his darts, which were more like a cross between a spike and a throwing knife. Glenn had his sling with a few smooth stones. Stephi was a softball player in her real life, and tried to find some stones. But in a swamp, that proved to be too much of a challenge. Without any other options for a ranged weapon, she picked up a few sticks. They were about the size of a police baton, but a little thicker.
Kirby told her hurling them would be cool. Even if she didn’t hit anything, stuff flying an enemy’s direction would help distract them. Plus, she might get lucky. If things went south and the enemy was going to get away, she was supposed to sling her Slumber Spell.
“Gurk,” Stephi whispered after swatting a mosquito that landed on her cheek. Even w
ith spatters of mud on her face, she still looked amazing.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know if I can…kill someone.” She paused. “It was different when, well they weren’t people, and we were being attacked.”
Glenn listened closely as he’d been wondering the same thing. Asking a junior high kid about something life and death? Seemed odd. But Kirby was probably the most well-adjusted to the circumstances of the world they’d landed in.
“First, these dudes, if they worship Hades, are evil.” He rubbed his nose. “If that ain’t enough, they’re NPCs. Non Player Characters, made up by the GM. They’re not real.”
She countered, “We’re here and we’re real.”
“Byeol’s death is real then. You want her back?”
“I do, but maybe not enough to murder someone.”
“You’re part of this world too, now, Marigold. Let that part flow when the action starts. Act and don’t think, like when you used your rapier on those goblins.” He stared into her face. “You could’ve used one like that in the real world. You can here too, but even better. So just go with it.”
Glenn didn’t follow Kirby’s logic. He just knew if they didn’t adjust to the new circumstances, they wouldn’t survive. If they made it back to the real world, and he went to confession, telling a priest he killed someone while trapped in an aberrant concurrent world…
“This waiting,” Kirby said, “makes it harder. Once we’re in the outpost, we won’t have time to plan or sit around waiting. Things’ll happen fast and you’ll react.” He grinned, his eyes scrunching up. “You’ll see.”
Stephi’s face went blank. Glenn’s heartrate kicked up. He knew that meant she was in connection with her familiar. Both he and Kirby waited.
“Two men. Could be the same ones we saw earlier. It’s hard to tell. A bird’s vision isn’t like a human’s.” A minute later she said, “They’re at the stables, talking to the lizard creature—man thing.”
A moment later she said, “They’re saddling horses.”
Glenn bit his lip in anticipation.
Outpost: A LitRPG Adventure (Monsters, Maces and Magic Book 1) Page 18