Critical Failures II (Caverns and Creatures Book 2)

by Bevan, Robert

  “Come on, man,” Cooper groaned. “We’ve been walking around here for like an hour now. I’m starting to sober up. It’s like all the beer I drank earlier is going to waste. I’m going to have to start all over again, and who knows what time last call is around here?”

  “Just keep your eyes open for a place called The Horsehead Tavern,” said Dave.

  “I can’t read, asshole.”

  “Well then, I don’t know. Just look for a sign with a picture of a horse’s head or something.”

  “Are you sure we’re even in the right neighborhood?”

  “The bartender said it’s in the Collapsed Sewer District. Don’t you think this area meets that description?”

  Cooper had to admit the place seemed a touch more lower-class than where they had just come from, what with smelling like shit, and most of the buildings having been constructed, from the look of them, out of salvaged pieces of other buildings, carriages, and particularly durable pieces of garbage. It just wasn’t the sort of thing he noticed. He’d delivered pizzas to worse neighborhoods than this.

  "Blegh," said Julian. "Put me down."

  Cooper set Julian on the ground and held his shoulders until he looked like he was able to stand on his own. "Sorry," he said. "We got kicked out of the last bar. I had to carry you."

  "Did you have to carry me in such a way that my face was right next to your... hey, do you have a tail?"

  "I'm not sure what that is. Some kind of growth. It itches."

  Julian shuddered. "So where are we going?"

  "We're looking for some place called the Horse Head Inn."

  "So what are we waiting for? It's right behind you."

  "Huh?" said Dave, spinning around.

  Cooper's looked at where Julian was pointing, but he couldn't make out what the sign said. Above it was a carved wooden head of a woman. She might have been pretty if not for the scowl on her face and the clown makeup painted on her. "What does the sign say, Dave?"

  Dave swallowed. "The Whore's Head Inn."

  Cooper slapped him in the back of the head. "We must have passed this place a dozen times."

  "Sorry," said Dave. "I was looking for something to do with horses. I didn't notice this place. It doesn't even look like it's open."

  "It's open," said Julian. "I can hear people inside."

  "I can't hear anything," said Cooper.

  Julian tugged on the points of his giant ears.

  "Screw this," said Tim. He stepped up and banged on the door with his little fist. He didn't stop banging until something moved on the other side. It was the sound of wood scraping against stone, like someone was moving a crate up next to the door. A small window slid open about a foot and a half above Tim's head, framing a neatly trimmed goatee, a bulbous nose, and pair of narrowed brown eyes beneath a set of wild black eyebrows.

  "Where are you from?" said the man, if that's what he was.

  "The Shire?" said Tim.

  The man on the other side of the door laughed dismissively and shook his head. "Fuck off, guys. This is a private club."

  "Wait!" said Dave.

  The man gave Dave a look that suggested that the next few words out of his mouth had better be earth shattering.

  "We're from Gulfport, Mississippi."

  The man smiled down at Dave. "Well that is interesting. Hang on a sec.” The window in the door slammed shut.

  The door opened to reveal a humanoid creature about the same height as Tim, but with a little more girth and a fuller face. He reached out a plump hand to Dave. “I'm Frank, from Atlanta.”

  Dave stared back dumbfounded until Tim elbowed him in the waist. “Oh,” he said, accepting the handshake. “I'm Dave.”

  Ravenus perched on Cooper’s head, probably to get a better view. The feathery fucker was pushing his luck. Cooper swatted at him, but only managed to slap himself in the head, as Ravenus used him as a springboard to fly into the dark rafters above.

  They were led into the entrance of a tavern that Cooper suspected had only just turned so silent. At least two dozen pairs of eyes were focused squarely on the four of them.

  “Dave, party of four!” Frank announced.

  “Four?” Tim muttered. “Wait a second,” he said more loudly. “Where's Katherine?”

  “She's still back at the other bar,” said Dave. “She wasn't with us when we got thrown out. But I told the bartender to send her this way. She'll be along soon.”

  “So…” Frank from Atlanta rubbed his chin. “You've survived this long in a party of five. Impressive.”

  “Six,” said Dave. “She's got that bard guy with her too.”

  “Imported or domestic?”

  “Whatever’s on tap,” said Cooper.

  Frank looked up at him. “No, stupid. I’m talking about the bard. Is he a local, or is he someone that came from...” He nodded his head. “You know, Earth?”

  “Oh, right,” said Dave. “Yeah, he's from Earth, just like the rest of us.”

  “Tony the Elf!” shouted Frank.

  An elf stood up from a nearby table. “Yeah, Frank?”

  “Take over door duty. I'm gonna break in the new guys. You can expect a couple more coming along shortly.”

  He led them to the table which Tony the Elf had just left. “What can I get you fellas to drink?”

  “Beer,” said Cooper, Tim, and Julian simultaneously.

  “Do you have any stonepiss?” asked Dave.

  “Sure thing, big guy.”

  Frank glanced over at the bar, and a very nervous looking elf nodded.

  “New kid,” said Frank. “NPC.”

  “What’s NPC?” asked Julian.

  “Non Player Character,” Frank explained. “One of the locals. Sometimes it can be fun to interact with them. They can never put their finger on what's different about us, but they all think we're weird as fuck. Personally, I believe it's the racism inherent in the game. I mean look at us. An elf, a halfling, a dwarf, a half-orc, and a gnome, all sitting around shooting the shit together. That's so fucking bizzarro to them.”

  “Is that what you are?” asked Julian. “A gnome?”

  Dave slapped Julian in the arm.

  “What?” said Julian. “I'm sorry. Was that offensive?”

  Frank waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, who gives a fuck? That's just what I'm talking about, right? Yeah, I'm a gnome. What of it, right?”

  The elf from the bar averted his eyes as he served the drinks.

  Tim, Dave, and Julian mumbled thank you’s. Cooper tried to say “Thank you”, but it came out as a long and satisfying belch from the bottom of his stomach. The elf wavered on his feet, looking as though he was trying to keep himself from passing out and/or crying.

  “Sorry,” said Cooper.

  Frank accepted his own beer and flipped a copper coin up at the elf who caught it eagerly between his hand and the beer tray. He bowed low at Frank, and then immediately hurried away when Frank waved him back to the bar.

  “Um...” said Cooper. “Do you mind if my friend frosts my beer?”

  Frank snorted and looked up at Cooper. “Hey. Where does a twelve hundred pound gorilla get his beer frosted?”

  Cooper squinted his eyes and turned his head quizzically. He had never had much patience for riddles, and his low Intelligence score wasn’t doing him any favors.

  Frank slapped a palm down on the table. “Wherever the fuck he wants to! Ha! Am I right?”

  “So...” said Cooper, hoping for a straight answer.

  “Knock yourself out, Goliath.”

  Cooper looked at Julian. Julian pointed a finger at Cooper's glass and looked at Frank, waiting for him to object. Frank merely raised his eyebrows curiously.

  “Ice ice baby,” said Julian. A ray of blue light shone from Julian's finger to Cooper's mug, which immediately frosted over with a thin coating of ice.

  “Holy shit!” said Frank.

  “Oh fuck,” said Cooper, putting his hands over his ears. His right ear was still t
ender from where the minotaur had grabbed it.

  “I'm sorry,” said Julian. “I didn't mean to. I didn't think you'd –”

  “Goliath, swap with me before that touches those big lips of yours.” Frank swapped his own beer with Cooper's before Cooper knew what was happening. He took a sip, and closed his eyes in ecstasy. “Do you assholes know how long it's been since I've had a cold beer?”

  “It was just a zero level spell.”

  “What spell?”

  “Ray of Frost.”

  Frank shouted at another table. “Why didn't any of you other fuckers ever think of this?” A portly human woman, a half-elf, and another gnome stared back blankly. “Come on over. Meet the new guys.”

  The other group pushed their table against Cooper’s. Frank climbed on top of the table, where he barely managed to stand taller than everyone else.

  “Guys, this is my new friend Dave.” He walked across to the other table and stopped in front of the human woman. “This is Rhonda.” He moved on to the half-elf. “This is Ed, and the gnome here is Gorgonzola.” Cooper grinned. The gnome lowered his head.

  “I'm Tim,” said Tim. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

  Julian removed his sombrero and bowed his head slightly. “Julian.”

  “I'm Cooper,” said Cooper, punctuating his introduction with a small, moist fart.

  “What the hell did you roll for Charisma?” said Rhonda.

  Cooper's face hardened. “You're not so hot yourself, Deep Dish.”

  Rhonda's stool scraped against the stone floor as she stood up suddenly. She threw her drink in Cooper's face and turned to Frank. “I want that one out of here.” She stomped off toward the bar.

  Cooper licked as much of the liquid from his face as the length of his tongue would allow. “Fruity.”

  Julian punched Cooper in the arm. “Can you keep that big trap of yours shut for just a second?”

  “Don't sweat it,” said Frank. “Rhonda’ll get over it. She's just a little sensitive is all. She chose to be a human, and the stats she rolled just happened to be pretty spot on to her actual self.”

  “So?” said Cooper.

  Frank sighed. “So when you insult her character, you're not far off from insulting the real her.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Apparently, she's a fat uppity bitch in real life as well.” He clapped his hands together and spoke aloud again. “So, when are you boys from?”

  “Excuse me?” said Julian.

  “How long have you been here, and what was the date back on Earth when you made the crossover?”

  “We've only been here a few days,” said Tim, his gaze fixed on the front entrance. The better part of a week maybe. It was June 16th when we left.”

  Frank hopped down onto his chair and slammed a fist down on the table. “Dammit!” he said. Tim jumped. The soft din of neighboring conversations came to a halt. Frank closed his eyes and took a few deliberate breaths. “Four more fucking months.”

  Heads hung low at nearby tables as patrons stared gloomily into their drinks.

  The half-elf called Ed spoke up. “Our real lives are just flying by without us. Most of us are probably presumed dead.”

  Cooper drained his glass in one giant swig, let loose an impressive belch, and scratched an armpit. “Mordred can suck on my nuts.”

  “Jesus Christ, man!” Frank shouted, grabbing the edge of the table as if to keep it from going anywhere. His eyes scanned back and forth across the ceiling. Ed fell off of his stool. Gorgonzola ducked his head under the table.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you guys?” said Cooper.

  After a few second passed without incident, Frank's eyes shifted from terror to anger. He pointed a pudgy finger at Cooper. “Rule number one in here, Bucko. You keep your thoughts and opinions of the Cavern Master to yourself. Got it?”

  “Why?” asked Cooper.

  “Because it took us a long time to pool together enough money to buy this dump, and I'd rather it not get swarmed with bees, or set on fire, or hit by an asteroid, or whatever, just because some giant moron couldn't keep his trap shut. I don't know if you've noticed, but Mordred doesn't respond well to being insulted.”

  Cooper stretched his lips back in a wide toothy grin and stood up. He helped himself to his former frosty beer mug, downed the half that Frank hadn't finished yet, and tapped on the side of the glass with a claw until he had the room's full attention. He set the glass down on the table and cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. He shouted at the ceiling.

  “Mordred's skank whore of a mother can bathe forever in an ocean of my ass sweat!”

  There were a number of gasps and at least one giggle, but most of the patrons simply stared up at Cooper in horrified silence.

  Frank climbed on top of the table to stand face to face with Cooper. “What the fuck do you think you're doing? Are you trying to get us all killed?”

  Cooper stepped away from Frank to address his now captive audience. “Ladies, gentlemen, whatever the fuck you are,” he said, pointing to a curly-haired halfling who was either an ugly female, or a dude with man tits. “You are no longer under Mordred's oppressive yoke!”

  Julian stood up. “Cooper, maybe this isn't the best time to –”

  “Are you drinking that?” Cooper picked up the shot glass in front of a wide-eyed dwarf at a nearby table and knocked it back. “Fuck me, that's the stuff.” He slammed down the glass. “Today marks the first day of your freedom, brethren!”

  Tim stood up next to Julian. “Shut the fuck up, Cooper. We want to ease them into this.”

  “What's Shirley Temple talking about?” asked Frank. “Just what the hell is going on here?”

  “I'll tell you what's going on,” said Cooper, scooping up Tim in one arm and mussing up his hair with the other hand. “My little friend Tim here, who has more brains in his little head than I have in my giant ass, has solved your Mordred problem.”

  “Oh yeah?” said Frank. “And how's that?”

  “He killed him.”

  Tim threw up.

  “Jesus H. Christ,” said Frank. He waved at the elf bartender, who immediately produced a bucket and mop from behind the bar and scuttled toward the mess. He turned back to Cooper.

  “Thank you. That’s really fucking hilarious. You ought to take that act on the road. Like, right now.”

  “Do I sound like I’m fucking around?” said Cooper. “It’s over. He’s gone.”

  “Tell me, please. How did he do it? Did he slap him to death with his little halfling dick?”

  “Of course not,” said Cooper. “That would be ridiculous.”

  Frank sighed. “Hold on a tick. I think I know what’s going on here. So he set you guys up against some big bad, right? And he breaks character during the fight, and you think you're fighting the real Mordred. And then little Tim here gets in a lucky sneak attack and brings the thing down, right? Well I've got news for you, buddy. That wasn't Mordred. You can't fight the Cavern Master.”

  “Yes!” said Julian. “That's precisely what happened. Cooper, you're such a dumbass. How could we have thought that was Mordred?” He let out a weak laugh through a pleading smile.

  “My balls that's what happened!” said Cooper. “Tim lured that fat fuck into his walk-in freezer with the promise of Popsicles. The safety latch is broken, so he got stuck in there.”

  Frank's shoulders went limp while he processed what Cooper had said. “Oh my god, you guys are serious. You really killed him.”

  Tim managed to throw up one more stringy gob of spit.

  A new din of excited chatter erupted in the tavern. Some of it was made up of laughter and clinking glasses. More of it was made up of panicked questions.

  The half-elf called Ed stood up. “You stupid sons of bitches!” he said. “I haven't seen my kids in nearly a year. Now I'm never going to see them again!”

  The laughter and clinking of glasses came to a sudden halt. The panicked questions grew into angry murmurs and a
bit of crying.

  “We all got people we miss from back home,” said Tony the Elf, still standing at the entrance. “This doesn't change nothin. You know as well as I do that Mordred was never gonna let us come back.”

  “We don't know that,” Frank snapped back at him. “Who knows what might have happened? He might have gotten picked up by the police for something else and copped a deal by solving three dozen missing persons cases in an afternoon. He might have found Jesus. He might have gotten fucking laid and decided to lighten up. We know two things. We know that Mordred was our only ticket back, and we know that any chance we might have had to go home is now gone.”

  Several of the patrons stood up and took a threatening step toward Cooper and Tim. Cooper took a step back and ran into Julian who was doing the same. This was not the reaction from the crowd that Cooper had been anticipating.

  Frank hopped onto the floor and held the mob at bay with his raised hand. “Just tell me why. What the fuck were you thinking?”

  Tim was unable to answer. The expression on his face suggested that the reason for this was a combination of terror, shame, and Cooper's stench. Cooper, who had been expecting cheers and booze, stood frozen and speechless.

  Dave spoke up in Tim's defense. “He was trying to force Mordred into a position where he had to negotiate. He didn't know that Mordred needed the dice to bring us back. The fat bastard was about to murder us!”

  Frank lowered his head. “It was a clever plan. I'll give you that. But it doesn't leave us any less fucked.”

  “Maybe it does,” said Julian.

  “Like fuck it does!” shouted a dwarf standing at the front of the mob. “I'm going to beat the shit out of you.”

  “Sit down, Andy,” said Frank. “Nobody is going to beat the shit out of anybody until we talk this through. What's on your mind, elf?”

  Julian swallowed hard. “Well, the dice were magical, right?”

  “Okay, sure. So what?”

  “Julian,” said Dave. “They're already pissed off enough.” He addressed Frank. “This was his first time playing the game. He doesn't know what he's talking about.”

  “Hey Dave,” said Cooper.

  “What?”

  “Shut your face.”

  “I was just –”