“I haven’t even told you what she looks like yet.”
“Listen, kid,” the beast’s patience was straining in its voice. “There haven’t been any halfling women in here tonight.”
“She’s not a halfling. She’s a half-elf.”
“She’s a what?” said Jorn.
The minotaur closed his eyes, took some deep breaths, and opened them again. “Tony, I know that you know better than to come over here at this time of night and – how do you folks put it – fuck with me?”
“Of course I know that, Morty,” said Tony the Elf. “Just like you know better than to ask questions about things that don’t make a whole lot of sense as far as our people are concerned.”
The minotaur nodded his giant horned head. “Well played, sir. I know that well.”
“Is this one of those cultural differences you were talking about?” asked Jorn.
“Absolutely,” said Tony the Elf.
“Her name is Katherine. She was sitting at the bar,” said Tim. “She was with a human Bard and a wolf named Butter-something. Butterbits… Buttermilk… Bread n’ Butter…”
The minotaur swallowed and lowered his eyes. “I don’t recall seeing anyone of that description.” He started to close the door.
“Butterbean!” shouted Tim.
A sharp bark broke the silence from within the tavern. The minotaur lowered his head and allowed the door to swing open. Butterbean padded out past him and licked Tim’s face. Tim hugged the wolf around its neck and scratched behind its ears. He looked ecstatic… until he suddenly didn’t.
“Wait a second,” said Tim. “Where the hell is my sister, you hairy bast—”
Tony the Elf punched him in the gut, taking the wind out of him. He gave Tim a few seconds to breathe. “Feeling better, big guy?”
Tim nodded.
Tony the Elf stood up. “I think what my friend was trying to suggest is that you haven’t been one hundred percent straightforward with us.”
“Look,” said the minotaur. “That’s why I don’t let you people in my tavern. I don’t want the kind of trouble that you always tend to bring with you. All I can tell you is that she left a while ago with her bard friend and some other guy. They left some of their shit behind. Hang on a second and I’ll go get it.” He returned a minute later and set two backpacks on the ground at Tim’s feet.
“You just let some stranger drag my sister out of here?” asked Tim.
“Nobody was dragging anybody. She looked happy enough. Now thanks for picking up the dog. Don’t let me catch you around here again.” The minotaur slammed the door shut.
“This is bullshit,” said Tim. “She never would have left Butterbean behind. He’s her Animal Companion.”
“So what are you going to do?” asked Tony the Elf. “Bust in there and beat the truth out of him? He’s three times as tall as you are, and probably weighs twenty times what you do.”
“Surely the four of us together could put up a –”
“Get that thought out of your head right now. That’s how you get killed in this place.”
“But my –”
“Even if I was willing to risk my life – and let me be absolutely one hundred percent crystal fucking clear on this – I am not, that would make three of us. Not four. The dwarf girl isn’t one of us. Remember? I’ll go out on a limb and assume she’s not suicidally insane. And just in case you didn’t notice, that’s not some furry orc wearing a Viking helmet in there. It’s a fucking minotaur. If you go through that door, you will not return.”
“Your point is taken,” said Tim. “Got any suggestions?”
“Do they keep their tubes in there?” Tony the Elf glanced down at the two backpacks.
“Their what?”
“Their character sheets.”
Tim’s eyes went as wide as tennis balls, and he dropped to his knees and started digging through a bag. He frantically unscrewed a scroll case and uncurled the paper. “Fuck, this is Chaz.” He quickly discarded it and tore through the other bag.
Dave picked up Chaz’s character sheet. “Well, at least Chaz is doing okay. He’s still got a couple of temporary points missing from his constitution, but his HP is full.”
“Oh, thank God,” said Tim, holding up the other sheet. “Katherine’s still at full hit points.”
Tony the Elf let out a long, satisfied sigh and smiled. Tim jumped up and hugged him.
“What the hell is going on?” Jorn asked Dave. “What are you guys so happy about? What about his sister?”
“This is another one of those cultural differences.”
Tony the Elf allowed Tim to continue hugging him for a short time, and then gently removed his arms from around his leg and his head from his crotch.
“The girl and her friend are okay for now. I suggest we head back to the Whore’s Head. We’ll set up a rotation to keep a watch on the character sheets. But we are going to need some rest before we organize any sort of search for them.”
Tim wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and nodded.
“Can we walk you somewhere?” Dave asked Jorn.
“No, thank you. I don’t live far from here.”
“I hope you’ll come back and visit me at the Whore’s Head sometime.”
“You can count on it,” said Jorn. “Just for the sake of morbid curiosity.”
Chapter 6
Cooper lit up a cigarette he had bummed from Frank. Julian sat to his left. Across the table from them, Stuart, Frank, and Rhonda sat like a panel of judges. Rhonda made a show of waving the cigarette smoke out of her face.
“We’re gonna be together for a while,” said Frank. “We might as well get to know each other. Tell me something about yourselves. What did you do back home?”
“We deliver pizzas for Papa Joe’s,” said Julian. “It’s a local place.”
Frank nodded. “So you all work together?”
“No,” said Julian. “Just me and Cooper.”
“Pizza delivery, huh?” said Frank. “So, what are you, working your way through college?”
“Yes, sir,” said Julian.
Frank laughed. “You don’t have to call me sir. This isn’t an interrogation. We’re just talking. So what school do you go to?”
“Virginia College.”
“I thought you guys were from Mississippi.”
“It’s a chain school,” said Julian. “They have a campus in Gulfport.”
“You a college boy, too, Goliath?”
“I dropped out of college,” said Cooper. He looked down at his beer. “Eleven years ago.” He wished Julian hadn’t brought up the pizza thing. It was all well and good for Julian. That’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re in college. But when you’re thirty…
“And you’re still delivering pizza,” said Rhonda. “Your ambition inspires me.”
“And your many chins inspire me.”
Rhonda pointed a pudgy finger in Cooper’s face. “I’m warning you, you –”
Frank put his hand on Rhonda’s and lowered it to the table. “Take it easy, you two.” He smiled at Cooper. “So tell me. Is pizza delivery all I’ve been led to believe it is, or have the pornos all been lying to me this whole time?”
“Huh?” said Cooper.
“You ever make a delivery to a lonely housewife looking for some extra sausage?”
“Ha!” said Cooper. “No, nothing like that. Most of our clientele are fat and ugly anyway. Completely unfuckable. No offense, Rhonda.”
Rhonda stood up so fast that her stool tipped over. She began muttering to herself and her fist glowed with a bright white light. Julian scooted half a foot to the left.
“Hey hey,” said Frank. “None of that. He said ‘No offense’.”
“Seriously?” said Rhonda.
“Cut him some slack. He’s stupid.”
“That’s true,” said Cooper in his own defense. “I am.”
The light went out from Rhonda’s fist. She wagged a finger back and forth
between Frank and Cooper. “There’s only so much of this I’m going to take.” She stomped off toward the corner where Stuart’s wife and two elf women were playing a card game.
Cooper helped himself to the unfinished portion of the beer Rhonda had left behind as he watched her go. “Her ass looks like two hippos on a see-saw.”
Frank smiled and shook his head. “You are a piece of work, my friend. But don’t underestimate Rhonda. She’s a very capable wizardess.”
“Thanks for the warning,” said Cooper. “But I don’t think I could ever be afraid of someone wearing a muumuu.”
“It wasn’t a warning,” said Frank. The smile was gone from his face, as was the mirth from his voice. He leaned in close. “Because she isn’t your enemy. There’s a big dangerous world out there that we don’t belong to. Our only hope of survival is to stand alongside one another. Rhonda is someone you’re going to want on your side.”
“I understand,” said Cooper, meekly.
Frank narrowed his eyes and nodded at Cooper. “Good. Because what I’m about to say is a warning, so listen carefully. I don’t care if you two fight verbally until you’re blue in the face. Hell, that’s entertainment as far as I’m concerned. But I’ll not tolerate violence between two of our own. We’ve had to throw people out of here before. Now I like you. You make me laugh and feel like an intellectual giant. But if you ever lay one of those big meat-fists on one of my people, I will kick your ugly ass to the curb. Are we of an understanding?”
“We are.”
Frank’s face relaxed as he sat back in his chair. “Good. Now tell me more about –”
“They’re back!” shouted a dwarf manning the front entrance. He opened the door just in time for Tony the Elf to hurry through, followed by Tim, Dave, Katherine’s wolf, and Ravenus. Noticeably absent were Dave’s she-dwarf friend, the bard dude, and Katherine.
Cooper stood up. “Where’s Katherine?” he asked Tim.
“We don’t know,” said Tim. “But wherever she is, she’s all right for now.”
“How do you know that?” asked Julian.
“We have her character sheet.” He held up a scroll tube.
Frank stood up on his table and clapped his hands twice. “All right everyone. That’s enough excitement for one night. It’s back to work in the morning. Assignments will be changed slightly, so check in before you check out. Lights out in five.”
Everyone stood up like a bunch of worker ants, removing glasses and wiping tables, moving tables and stools up against the walls of the room, spreading out bedrolls on the floor. It was choreographed as if they were all part of one organic machine. Within minutes the room was transformed from a pub to something that looked like kindergarten nap time.
“Work?” asked Cooper.
“Sure,” said Frank, hopping down onto his stool, then onto the floor. “We’ve got to make a living just like anyone. And if we ever hope to get magicked out of this place, it’s probably gonna cost some serious coin. Naturally, I’ll allow Frodo to take a partner and go search for his sister, but the rest of you are gonna have to find some way to make yourselves useful. Did any of you spend any skill points on a profession?”
Tim, Dave, Cooper, and Julian looked at one another in uncomfortable silence.
“Of course not,” said Frank. “Nobody ever does. That’s okay. We’ve come up with some alternative ways of making money.” He pointed up at Cooper. “You’ll be perfect for werewolf duty.”
“You know I’m only level two, right?”
“Ha! Trust me, big guy. Now you fellas get some sleep.”
“What’s that for?” asked Julian, pointing to a corner of the room that hadn’t been cleared of tables and stools.
“That’s for you, friend,” said Frank.
“For me?”
“It’s for the elves. You guys don’t sleep. You just zone out for a couple of hours. So that’s a place for you guys to hang out while the rest of us sleep. It works out well for everyone. You guys don’t get bored, and we don’t have to worry about keeping watch. Just don’t all zone out at the same time, and try to keep the chatter to a reasonable volume.”
Julian nodded his head. “Impressive. I could get used to this place.”
“Don’t,” said Tim. “We’re going to find Katherine, and then find a way home.” He held up Katherine’s character sheet. “Would you and the other elves mind keeping an eye on this?”
Julian took the paper. “Sure thing.”
“Wake me up if there’s any change in her condition.”
“You got it.”
Chapter 7
Julian bade good night to his friends. The tavern had an excess of bedrolls and blankets for whoever wanted them, which Dave and Tim were happy to take advantage of. Cooper opted to wrap himself up in the torn, dirty, and blood-stained canvas which had formerly covered a wagon in the not-so-distant past. He lay down on the rough wooden floor. The three of them were fast asleep within less than a minute of hitting the floor.
A slightly familiar clattering sound turned Julian’s attention to the elf corner of the room. He glanced at Katherine’s character sheet. Still no change. He walked across the room to where the elves were congregated.
“Barry can fireball the zombies,” said an elf that Julian hadn’t yet been introduced to. He wore his hair in a ponytail, and a red bandana around his forehead. “I want to attack the mohrg.”
“If you go after the mohrg,” said Tony the Elf, “the three zombies standing next to you get an attack of opportunity.”
“Are you guys doing what I think you’re doing?” asked Julian. Peeking over the shoulders of the elves huddled at the table, he saw what he was expecting to see. The five elves who weren’t Tony had thick, pulpy character sheets scribbled out in front of them with quill pens. A crude graph had been carved into the tabletop. In the middle of the table sat a collection of rough, carved wooden dice. There were also some wooden pegs and copper coins placed neatly within squares of the graph, which Julian took to represent characters and monsters respectively. Tony the Elf sat behind a screen made of two thin boards joined at an angle. Behind the screen was a giant sheet of the same rough paper, this one covered in illegible notes, scribbles, and numbers.
Tony the Elf looked up at Julian. “It kills the time.”
“They don’t get an attack of opportunity if I only take a five foot step,” argued the elf in the red bandana. He moved a peg away from three lined up copper coins and toward a silver coin. “I can go to this square, still reach the mohrg, and be safely out of range of the zombies.”
Tony the Elf sighed and rolled his eyes. “We’ve been through this, Scorn. You can only use the five foot step rule if you don’t take any other actions that round. If you try to attack the mohrg, the zombies are going to eat your face off.”
“I think he’s right,” said the elf next to Scorn.
“Shut up, Barry,” said Scorn. “Why would a five foot step count as a full move action?”
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” said Julian.
“Interrupt all you like,” said Tony the Elf. “Like I said, we’re just killing time. And you seem like someone I want to stab a lot less than I do your idiot friends.”
“Thanks.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“I was just wondering why you guys are playing this. I mean, just take a look around. We’re here. Look at your ears. You’re an elf, for crying out loud. We could be out having real adventures, fighting monsters, collecting treasures.”
“We could have been doing that stuff back in the real world, too,” said Tony the Elf. “We could have gone around stabbing people and taking their money. Or run off into the woods and look for a bear to kill. But wherever you are, here or there, that’s a good way to get yourself imprisoned or killed. You and your friends should know that better than any of us, I would think.”
Julian frowned. “I guess you have a point there. But are you saying that this has all become boring and m
undane to you?”
“Not at all,” said Tony the Elf. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing two drunk wizards duke it out in the streets. But right now, sitting around here while everyone else is sleeping. Yeah, this is boring as shit.”
“Have you… never mind.”
“Spit it out, man.”
“I think I may have a way to solve your current argument about the rules.”
Scorn laughed. “Aren’t you the one who hadn’t ever played the game before?”
“Shut up, Scorn,” said Tony the Elf. “I’d like to hear what the kid has to say.”
“I’ve noticed that the environment in this world adheres strictly to game rules, often times in defiance of logic or even physics.”
The group of elves all turned to one another, murmuring laughter and memories.
“Yes,” said Tony the Elf. “I think we can all agree on that. What’s your point?”
“We could just act out the scenario in question,” said Julian. “Three of you could stand in a line here.” He waved his hand across a section of floor. “Scorn could stand right here, and you could stand right over there. Scorn could try to step toward you and punch you, and the three of you playing the zombies could try to punch him. If the zombies get their punches off before Scorn reaches you, then your ruling for the attacks of opportunity is sound.”
Tony the Elf looked at the players. The players looked at each other.
Scorn harrumphed. “That’s the most retar—“
“Brilliant,” said Tony the Elf. “Ready to give it a try, Scorn?”
“I’ll just attack one of the fucking zombies.”
“Roll it.”
Scorn rolled the die. “Two. What a big fucking surprise.”
“That’s a miss,” said Tony the Elf.
“No shit,” said Scorn. He glared at the elf at the opposite end of the table. “I might roll better if the nineteen side wasn’t three times as big as any of the others.”
“Blow me, Scorn,” said the elf on the receiving end of Scorn’s glare. “Do you know how hard it was to carve all of these dice? I’ve only got two ranks of woodworking. If I ever go up another level, I’ll put some more skill points in it. But for now, this is what we’ve got.”
Critical Failures II (Caverns and Creatures Book 2) Page 5