More high-pitched laughter chattered out from two of the nearby trees.
“I have to get my friend out first,” said Cooper. He began to reach into the bag.
“Uh uh,” said the halfling. He pulled his arrow back threateningly. “Not so fast. We’re going to do this nice and slow, like. No tricks. Now, what’s your friend’s name?”
“Um… Dildo,” said Cooper.
The halfling laughed. His laughter was joined by his friends in the other trees. “What kind of name is that?”
“It’s sort of a nickname, really. We call him Dildo Daggins. It’s an inside joke.”
The laughter stopped abruptly. “Fine. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to reach very slowly into the bag and say the word ‘Dildo’. You’re going to pull him out of the bag just as slowly. And then you’re going to put the bag on the ground and you’re all going to walk away. Is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
Cooper reached with exaggerated slowness into the Bag of Holding. “Dildo,” he said. Cooper felt the hard, veiny wooden cock materialize in his hand. It still had a greasy residue on it. He felt down the shaft to make sure he was holding the penis end, and mentally braced himself for the coming pain.
“Fuck you, hobbit!” Cooper shouted as he whipped the stake out of the bag and flung it at the halfling.
The halfling, true to his word, released his arrow, catching Cooper in the chest.
Pain seared through his pectoral muscles. “Fuck, that hurts!”
The stake had also found its mark, and it pleased Cooper to imagine that the little bastard in the tree was suffering a lot more than he was.
“Magic Miss –” An arrow in the shoulder cut Julian off. Sparks fizzled out of his open palm, but no Magic Missiles shot out.
The halfling screamed and dropped his bow. He looked down in horror at the massive wooden dick poking out of his abdomen. “Why’s it so slippery?” he said, pulling it out. He dropped the dildo and grabbed at the branch he was sitting on. His hand slipped. He lost his balance and fell out of the tree.
Cooper jumped on the halfling, ignoring the pain from the two more arrows which struck him in the back. He wrapped one massive hand around his tiny throat and punched him in the nuts with the other.
“Oooooh,” the halfling groaned.
“Game’s over, little fucker,” said Cooper. “Call off your friends.” He gave the little guy a moment to comply, knowing all too well how difficult it can be to articulate one’s thoughts right after a punch in the stones. He grunted as another arrow struck him in the back, and one more in his ass.
“Bingbobble! Snickers!” the halfling cried out. “Stand down!”
The arrows stopped.
“Now,” said Cooper. His words were directed at the halfling he had pinned on the ground, but he spoke loudly enough for the others to hear. He gripped the little man’s throat even tighter. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to tell your little friends to drop their weapons and fuck off. I will not suffer the indignity of dying at the hands of people named Bingbobble and Snickers.”
“Do what he says!” the halfling croaked.
Bingbobble and Snickers obediently jumped down from their respective trees and held their bows out as non-threateningly as they could.
“Yah!” said Julian, plucking the arrow out of his shoulder. He walked briskly up to the one nearest to him. “I’ll take that, thank you very much.” He swiped the bow out of the frightened halfling’s hand. The other halfling simply dropped his bow on the ground and held his hands up. “You two run along.”
The two halflings didn’t need to be asked twice. They disappeared into the forest like cockroaches when the lights go on.
Cooper was satisfied at the look of defeat that spread over his captive’s face. “Dave,” he called out. “I could use some help here.”
“Of course,” said Dave. He waddled over to Cooper and lay a hand on his shoulder. “I heal thee.”
Cooper breathed a sigh of relief as arrows fell out of him like needles on a shoddy Christmas tree. His wounds were far less than completely healed, but he’d live to fight another battle. “Thanks. Grab Tim, would you?”
“Sure thing,” said Dave. He reached into the Bag of Holding. “Tim.”
Tim spilled out of the bag. “What took you guys so – what the hell happened here?”
“Ambush,” said Cooper. He stood up, lifting the halfling off the ground by his throat. “It’s been taken care of. How’s Kat?”
“She’s in pretty bad shape,” said Tim. “She needs blood.”
Cooper looked at the frightened prisoner squirming in his hand. “Sorry, dude.”
“Wait, Cooper,” said Julian. “We should really consider the ethical ramifications of feeding an unarmed prisoner to –”
“Wha–” said the halfling as Cooper shoved it into the Bag of Holding. Cooper looked at Julian and raised his eyebrows.
“Or not,” said Julian.
“Come on, guys,” said Tim. “Let’s make our way back to town before we run into anything else out here.”
“We have to wait for Stuart,” said Dave.
Everyone looked up. Stuart was a tiny speck about a third of the way down the cliff face from Millard’s fort.
“Think there’s any way we could speed this up?” asked Tim.
“I don’t see how,” said Dave. “He’s up there, and we’re down here. The only way to speed it up that I can think of would be to make him fall and try to catch him, which I don’t advise.”
“Crap.”
“I’m going to go pray,” said Dave.
“Good idea,” said Tim. “Stay where we can see you.”
Dave waddled to a tree about twenty feet away and took a knee.
“That’s a good idea,” said Julian. “I’m going to zone out for about twenty minutes, get my spells back.”
“I’ll get my daily allotment of songs ready,” said the bard.
“Well I guess that just leaves you and me,” said Cooper. When Tim didn’t respond, Cooper looked over to find him curled up on the ground, fast asleep. “Poor little guy.”
Cooper looked up. It appeared that Stuart hadn’t moved an inch. Nature, he reflected to himself, is boring as shit. He found a stick and spent the next twenty minutes playing fetch with Butterbean.
“Hey,” said Julian when he’d finally snapped out of his trance. “This is weird. I used to only be able to cast five first-level spells in a day, and now I can cast six. Also, and I can’t be sure about this until I try, but I think I know how to play the violin.”
“My ass is noticeably less sore,” said Cooper. “And now that I think about it, I get the feeling that if we ever came across a trap of some kind, I would be marginally better at avoiding it. This can only mean one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“We leveled up!”
“Awesome!”
“Wait a second,” said Cooper. “You wasted a skill point learning how to play the violin?”
“I’ve always wanted to learn.”
“What good is that going to do us out here? You don’t even have a fucking violin!”
“What did you spend your Skill Points on?”
“I always dump them into Climb and Swim.”
“That’s it?”
“I only get two points per level.”
“That sucks. Why so few?”
“Because I’m a barbarian. We hit shit with axes. We don’t tend to do a lot of violin playing. Also, I get a penalty for being stupid.”
“Hey guess what guys!” said the bard, sauntering back with his lute.
“You leveled up,” said Cooper.
“Yeah,” said the bard. “How’d you know?”
“We all did,” said Cooper. “We must have gotten a bunch of Experience Points when we took down a vampire.”
“I can inspire competence now,” said the bard.
“There’s a certain irony in that,” said
Cooper.
“How so?”
“A bard is about the least competent class there is.” Cooper looked up at Stuart. “Outside of monk.”
“I’m a support character,” said the bard. “A jack-of-all-trades.”
“And if being a jack-off was useful, you’d be awesome.”
“What’s going on?” said Tim, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
“Oh, hey,” said Cooper. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“I was,” said Tim. “I had a dream that a bunch of assholes were arguing about… oh wait…”
“We all leveled up!” said Julian. “Did you?”
“How should I know,” asked Tim. “We left our character sheets at the Whore’s Head.”
“Cooper can sense traps and I can play the violin!”
“Why the hell did you learn to play the violin?”
“I’ll do what I want with my own skill points, thank you very much,” Julian snapped. “So what about you, Tim? You notice anything different about yourself?”
“I don’t know,” said Tim. “I think I may have a better understanding of how kidneys work. It’s kind of vague.”
“Okay,” said Julian. “So maybe you put some Skill Points into healing?”
Tim yawned. “No, I don’t think so. It’s kind of the opposite of that. I feel like I know how to stab them more effectively. My Sneak Attack damage must have gone up.”
They all sat for a while, staring up at Stuart as he ever-so-slowly climbed down the cliff. In fact, he may not have even been moving at all.
“This is taking forever,” said Tim.
“Is he stuck?” asked Julian.
“It’s a tricky thing,” said Cooper. “That’s a steep cliff and a long drop. One misstep could be the end of you.”
They all stared for a few more minutes before Cooper continued. “But yeah, this is boring as shit. I’m going up after him.”
“What makes you think you’ll do any better than him?” asked Julian.
“I’ve maxed out my ranks in Climb,” said Cooper. “And I’ve also got a massive Strength bonus.”
“Hold on, Cooper,” said Dave, waddling briskly back to the others. “I might be able to help you. Guess what, guys!”
“You leveled up,” said Tim.
“Yeah,” said Dave. “I guess you all did as well?”
“Uh-huh,” said Tim.
“I just picked my first second-level spell, Bull’s Strength!” He turned to Cooper. “I can give you an even bigger Strength bonus to help you climb.”
Cooper nodded. “Not bad. Thanks. Come to think of it, I can boost my Strength as well if I go into a rage. I’ll be able to climb like a motherfucker!”
“I can inspire competence!” said the bard.
Cooper wanted to laugh at him, but it was quite a climb, and he’d take whatever help he could get.
“I can,” Julian started enthusiastically, but it quickly faded. “I’m pretty much the same. I can cast Magic Missiles and summon horses.”
“I can’t see that as being of much use in this particular situation,” said Tim. “Why don’t you just hang back with me and watch the show. It’ll be interesting to see what Cooper looks like with a Strength of 28.”
They walked toward the cliff until the incline increased enough so that it was more climbing than walking.
“Let’s do this,” said Cooper.
The bard readied his lute and started strumming the beginning of ‘Eye of the Tiger’.
Cooper nodded in rhythm with the music. “Yeah!” he shouted. “Good choice.” He his heart rate picked up, and he knew he was about to climb like he’d never climbed before. “Come on, Dave! Give it to me!” He held up his hand for a high-five.
“I um,” said Dave. “I imbue thee with Bull’s Strength.” He high-fived Cooper.
Cooper suddenly began to feel like a shaken up beer can as his blood fizzed inside him. If he’d been wearing a shirt before, he’d be tearing the shit out of it right now. His biceps grew to the size of watermelons. His man-tits ballooned out into firm pectoral muscles. His legs grew as thick as punching bags. “Fuck yeah!”
“Get moving,” said Dave. “I’m not sure how long this lasts.”
“I’m really angry!” said Cooper. His vision went red and blurry. His muscles expanded so much that he couldn’t even put his arms down. His friends backed away from him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
Cooper looked up and found Stuart. He loped up the cliff face like a lion runs on the open savannah. It felt less like climbing and more like shoving a mountain out of his way. He was halfway up to Stuart in no time.
“Hey, Stuart!” he tried to say, but it came out as “WWWRRRAAAAAAUUUURRGGHH!!!”
Stuart looked down at him, nearly lost his already-tenuous hold on the rock, and shrieked. He immediately started trying to scramble back up to Millard’s Fort. He didn’t stand a chance. Cooper was on him within seconds.
Cooper scooped up Stuart with an arm bigger than the monk’s whole body and threw him over his shoulder. Descending the cliff was a breeze. It was more a matter of letting himself fall, grabbing a random handhold every now and again to slow him down.
Once they were safely on the ground, Cooper dropped Stuart and ripped the nearest tree out of the ground, just because he could.
“Cooper!” Tim shouted. It was barely audible through the noise of blood rushing through his ears.
“BRRAAAUUUUHHHH!!” He answered. And the tree started to get heavier. His body was shrinking. He came out of his rage. “Wha?” Still hugging the tree, he collapsed under its weight and fell backwards. “Fuck.”
“What the hell are you doing?” asked Tim.
“Sorry,” said Cooper. “I got carried away. Can you guys get this fucking tree off me?”
Chapter 22
Dave’s entire body ached. They were just a few blocks away from the Whore’s Head, and he wanted nothing more than a shot glass, and a nice big bottle of stonepiss.
The cool evening breeze on his face provided little relief against the heat of the cast-iron pot he felt like he was wearing. If he ever had to go through this again, he’d be a rogue, or maybe even a monk. Any class that didn’t wear armor was fine with him. He was sweating up a swamp. His scalp and face itched. He was probably crawling with lice. And the smell! He was nearly as bad as Cooper. It wasn’t just the usual sweat and body odor, though that was certainly present. The leopard fur on his forearm reeked of something worse than shit… like supershit or something. And smoke? Wait… why did he smell like…
“Guys!” Dave said. “Look ahead.” A column of black smoke cut through the pink twilit sky. “Is that coming from where I think it’s coming from?”
“The Whore’s Head!” said Stuart. “Rose!” He bolted ahead like a bipedal cheetah. That monk could move.
“Shit!” said Tim. “Come on, guys. Move your asses!” He took off after Stuart.
“Tim, wait!” said Cooper. “You don’t know what’s… ah, fuck.” Cooper followed Tim.
One by one, they each disappeared around a corner.
“Come on, Dave,” said Julian, picking up his own pace to a brisk walk.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” said Dave. He tried to ignore the pain in his knees and the weight of his armor.
Dave’s worries were confirmed when he rounded the corner. The Whore’s Head Inn was on fire. Or at least it had been very recently. No open flames were visible, but the smoke was thick and black. Bodies lined the street outside. Some were squirming and moaning. It was the ones which were doing neither that Dave worried most about.
The only person Dave recognized immediately was Frank. Whatever had happened, he had taken some of it. The little gnome hobbled among the injured on a makeshift crutch, barking orders at the few clerics in the group who were able to move.
“Tend to the other clerics first!” shouted Frank. “And then to anyone who has any ranks in the Heal skill. Somebody get a head count!”
Coo
per ran out of the front entrance with a body tucked under each arm. He was hacking and coughing. He set the bodies on the ground and turned away to throw up. No sooner did he spill his guts than he was running back inside.
One of the front windows exploded into a billion glass shards as a barstool sailed out through it. The window vomited yet another plume of black smoke. Stuart poked his head out through the smoke and sucked in some air. Then he disappeared into the smoke once more. Seconds later, a Halfling flew out of the same window and landed hard on the ground among the broken glass. Dave winced.
An elf was kneeling over the body of a fat human woman. It must have been that girl Rhonda. “I think she’s dead,” he said, patting her forehead with a wet cloth.
“Then there’s nothing you can do for her, goddammit!” shouted Frank. “Move on to someone else!”
The shaken elf hurried off to find another patient to attend to.
Frank’s eyes met Dave’s. “Don’t just stand around!” he said. “Heal someone!”
“I’m sorry,” said Dave. “I’m… I’m all tapped out.”
“Then do something,” said Frank. “Anything!”
Dave waddled up to the first body he came across. A gnome.
“Help me,” said the gnome, reaching a hand out to Dave.
Dave’s heart dropped into his stomach as he pretended not to see or hear him. The poor bastard looked to be in a lot of pain, but the fact that he could call out for help at all put him at a lower priority than a lot of the people lying around here.
He found an elf, his face black with soot except for the stream of blood which flowed out from his forehead. This guy wasn’t moving. Dave ripped off the elf’s shirtsleeve and wrapped it tight around the wound on his head. He hoped it would be enough.
The second window exploded in the front of the building. The barstool responsible didn’t fly out this time. Instead it swiped back and forth a couple of times against the bottom of the frame, removing any jagged pieces of glass. The stool then disappeared into the smoke, and a human body fell backward out of the window and landed unconsciously on the ground. Stuart poked his head through the newly formed avenue of smoke, sucked in some air, and disappeared again.
Critical Failures II (Caverns and Creatures Book 2) Page 20