Survivors

by Dave Willmarth

  When enough of the villagers were present, Campbell called, “We’ve been give’d a blessin’ by Elysia herself!”

  He motioned for the others to step into the open area around him. “We were chosen by Griff and Lisa here, and Elysia has given us the gift o’ immortality. We be just like outworlders now. If’n we die, we’ll return to our bodies just like new!”

  There were cries and shouts of disbelief from the crowd. Campbell ignored them. “There be more! Elysia charged each of us to be her heralds. To tell all of ye this: Ye can become immortal too. Through heroic deeds, acts of kindness, hard work, and pleasin’ the goddess in other ways. When ye’ve gained enough favor with her, she’ll grant ye the same boon.”

  As the crowd reacted to this, he nodded at the others. Eleven of the dozen spread out and moved among the crowd, answering questions. Campbell stayed to talk to Griff and Lisa.

  “We canno’ thank ye enough for this gift.”

  Lisa poked Griff in the ribs harder than he thought she needed to, and made a significant eye movement toward Campbell. He sighed.

  “Yer most welcome. And there’s something we were hoping you’d consider.”

  Campbell looked at him suspiciously for a moment. “This have anything to do with me girl? And that good-fer-naught animal hugger?”

  Griff laughed despite himself. “Aye. And you as well. We want to put together an adventuring party. The two of us, Leroy, Meg, and yerself if ye’ll join us.”

  The old dwarf raised his bushy eyebrows at that. “And that’s why ye choosed us to be yer immortals?”

  Lisa shook her head. “Not you. You were on our list no matter what. But Leroy and Meg, yes.” Her face was open and honest as she spoke, and Campbell gave her a brief nod. She added “We’ve offered you a spot in the party because we figured you’d want to watch out for Meg. To protect her from beasties and young dwarves alike!” She grinned as the old dwarf laughed heartily.

  “Ha! Well I do miss all the runnin’ about and killin’ beasties from me younger days. But I be needed here. Ye should take young Josephine in me place.” He turned his face away from Lisa and gave Griff a big wink. Griff rolled his eyes.

  Lisa hesitated before asking, “Is… is she a fighter? I thought she were just a waitress.”

  Campbell looked down at her with a frown.

  “Ye’ve got a lot to learn about dwarves, lass. There’s no such thing as a dwarf who can’t fight. Our wee ones are given weapons as soon as they can walk. Some even before.” His eyes lost focus, as if remembering better days. “Me Meg was swinging a knife ‘n slicin’ off bits o’ me beard while still in her cradle.”

  Griff was curious now. “And what is Jo’s class?”

  Campbell didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and bellowed, “Josephine!” causing the young dwarf to start in surprise and trot over to them.

  “Aye, what’re ye yellin’ about, old man?” She softened the insult with a smile.

  “Ye want to go adventurin’ with these young ones?” he asked.

  Her eyes widened. “Ye mean as in, dungeons ‘n such? Real battles?”

  When she saw the grin on his face she hopped up and down. “Ye bet yer red arse hairs I do!”

  “Good,” Campbell replied. “Go with them and watch over Meg. If that lad…” He paused to wink at Griff again. “Or this lad tries anythin’ funny, ye stick ‘em with somethin’ sharp!”

  He pointed roughly northeast toward the mountain range above them. “Follow the creek to where it meets the waterfall. There be an orc outpost there. Offer to trade with ‘em and they’ll be friendly enough. There be a dungeon entrance nearby.”

  Campbell walked off, laughing to himself. Griff looked at Meg and the others.

  “Well, that went easier than I expected,” he mumbled.

  Lisa poked him in the ribs again, more gently this time. She said “Well you did just give them all the ability to respawn. Imagine how you’d feel if ya were told ya’d never have to die in the real world. Or more specifically, if ya got eaten by a zombie, you’d respawn in yer quarters good as new.” She waited as he considered her words.

  “First thing I’d do is see if I could eat enough pancakes to kill myself!” He grinned at her. Turning to the rest of the party, he asked Josephine, “Jo, what is your class?”

  She pulled a staff from her bag, and then a wand. “I be a mage. Or rather, an apprentice mage. Me specialty be fire magic. I practice every day, lightin’ the ovens and fireplaces at the inn. But I can cast water and lightnin’ spells too. And a shield, though it be weak until I practice more.”

  Her voice trailed off at this. “Me master was killed by an outworlder shortly before ye all disappeared.” She said as if that explained her small repertoire.

  Lisa took her hand. “You’ll fit in just perfect! Griff here can tank, Leroy can heal, and Meg and I will stab and chop at the bad guys while you protect Leroy and cook them from a distance.”

  The others all nodded their agreement. “Okay, we spend the rest of today gathering supplies and preparing our gear. Griff and I have a bit of gold to spend if you need to purchase things. Don’t worry about the cost, you can pay us back from your share of the dungeon loot. We’ll meet at the inn for a good hearty breakfast, then we’ll go. Anybody know how long it’ll take to reach the orc outpost?”

  Meg raised her hand. “Me da makes the trip sometimes, and I went with him once. It’s a half day’s walk. There’s a trail that takes us most of the way. And I know a good spot to cross the creek.”

  Griff dismissed the group and they scattered to go prepare. He noticed Jo waited to make sure Meg and Leroy went different directions before she turned and walked toward the inn. He decided it would be fun to help her make sure that Leroy got no action while they were out and about.

  Griff and Lisa went to see Bolgin at the general store to purchase some supplies. Griff wanted rope, torches, or lanterns, and lots of potions for both health and mana regeneration. He also purchased a couple of large canvas tarps that could be made into shelters. Along with a set of pots and pans and enough cups and plates for the group. Lisa added in a week’s worth of biscuits, jerky, and dried fruit. Griff and Lisa only had 20 slots each in their inventory bags, and wanted to save as much space as possible for loot.

  When they were all done, the pile atop the merchant’s counter was daunting. Griff asked Bolgin “Have you any bags of holding to sell me?”

  The old dwarf shook his head. “No bags. I do have this ring, but it’s expensive. Fifty gold.”

  He handed the ring to Griff to inspect.

  Ring of Holding

  Quality: Uncommon

  This ring can hold items in a pocket dimension with one hundred storage slots. Identical items will stack within the same slot up to a quantity of fifty. Carrying weight of all items stored within the ring is reduced by 99.9%.

  This was just what they needed, but even with the improved drops that he and Lisa had been benefiting from they didn’t have enough gold to pay for the ring and all the supplies, too. Plus, Griff wanted to visit the blacksmith and see about upgrading their gear.

  Bolgin saw the look on his face. “Tell ye what. Ye pay me for the supplies and take the ring as a loan. When ye get back, I get first choice o’ the loot items ye wish to sell, and ye’ll sell ‘em to me at a ten percent discount. We’ll take out the cost of the ring then.”

  Griff gladly agreed and paid Bolgin for all the supplies while Lisa took the ring and began loading it up. This new Revered reputation was already paying dividends. Bolgin had been kind enough to Griff on his first day in the village. But no way would he have entrusted such a valuable item to him knowing he was about to enter a dungeon.

  They bid Bolgin a good day and made their way to Fagin’s smithy. The two of them spent some time going over their armor and weapons with the smith, who was more than happy to help.

  “I can improve what ye’ve got with some buffs to Strength or Stamina, or ye can choose from items in me shop an
d I’ll give ye the friends and family price.” He thumped Griff on the back.

  As Griff was currently wearing an ugly mismatch of items he’d picked up during his time in the village, he went into the shop to have a look around. Lisa, still being relatively low-level, opted to have her gear improved.

  As Fagin banged away on her armor, she joined Griff. He was trying on a shiny steel breastplate engraved with a war hammer crossed with a mining pick. There was a matching helm, pauldrons, greaves, and two gauntlets hanging on an armor tree in front of him.

  With a sigh, he set the piece back on the tree and moved on. There was an entire wall of dwarven shields in different sizes and shapes. He was drawn to one with the same engraving as the breastplate. It looked almost like a clan crest. The shield was wider than his shoulders at the top and over a meter tall. Its bottom edge tapered to a point, which could be jammed into the ground to stabilize the shield.

  He hefted it, sliding his left arm into the strap and grabbing the handle. It was lighter than he expected, and he moved his arm up and down, back and forth, testing it.

  Lisa whistled at him. “Looks good on you!” she winked.

  He set the shield back down just as Fagin joined them. The smith eyed the item. “Aye, one of me prized pieces. Part o’ the set.”

  He pointed to the armor tree that Griff had been admiring. “I crafted it all fer an outworlder who never claimed it.”

  “It’s fine work,” Griff agreed. “I’ll be back for it after we’ve cleared a dungeon or two.” He moved down the line of shields and hefted a simpler steel shield of roughly the same design.

  Fagin handed Lisa her improved armor and she made happy noises at the smith as she inspected the pieces than tried them on. A few moments later, she called out to Griff.

  “This is great! He’s given me a total of plus five to Strength, three to Stamina, and one to Agility!” she bragged, spinning around to model the improved gear for Griff.

  He gave a thumbs-up and walked toward the counter with the shield he was holding. After all the supplies, their gold was limited and he wanted to be sure they had some left for whatever gear the others needed.

  “I’ll take this one. What do we owe you for this and Lisa’s items?”

  “Let’s call it one gold.” Fagin’s manner had become a little stiff and formal. Griff caught him scowling at the shield on the counter as he took the gold piece.

  “Is something wrong? Was this a bad choice?” he asked.

  “No, no. This be a good solid shield. I was just wonderin’ why ye didn’t choose the other.”

  Griff understood. “It’s beautiful work. And I will be back to purchase it. I just have limited funds right now and I need to make sure the rest of our party has what they need.”

  He watched the blacksmith’s face, half hoping the dwarf would offer him a similar deal to Bolgin’s ring.

  Fagin only nodded, his serious look returning to a smile. “Fair enough. ‘Tis a good leader who looks out fer his people before himself. If there’s anything else I can get ya, just lemme know.”

  Griff held up a hand in parting. “You may get a visit from Leroy, Meg, or Jo. If they need something they can’t afford, within reason, we’ll cover it.” He and Lisa headed back to the inn to log out. They’d be starting early in the game tomorrow, and wanted to get a good meal and some sleep under their belts.

  Chapter 11

  Tastes Like Chicken

  Griff took his time getting showered and changed after leaving his pod. He’d learned that after being ignored all day, Evan would demand Lisa’s time as soon as she emerged.

  He cranked up the hot water and let it beat on the top of his head as he leaned against the shower wall. When the room had filled with thick steam, he shut the water off and dried himself before slipping on a pair of military issue boxers and jeans. He didn’t own any shoes other than his combat boots, so he donned those as well, along with a plain black t-shirt.

  As he stepped toward the door, he could hear the muffled sounds of arguing between Evan and Lisa. Well, mostly Evan. Lisa wasn’t saying much. But the man sounded quite angry. Griff opened the door as quietly as possible and headed toward the kitchen. He figured he could get a start on something good for dinner. A tasty meal might lighten the mood a bit.

  Safely in the kitchen, he got to work. Filling a large pot with hot water, he set it on a burner and cranked it to high. He located a box of pasta and dumped it into the pot with a dash of salt, then poured a can of cream of mushroom soup into a smaller pan and put that on the heat as well.

  When they’d both been going for a while, he opened two cans of chicken and poured them into a frying pan. Lighting the burner underneath, he spread the chicken out with a wooden spoon, put a lid on the pan and left it alone to brown.

  While those items cooked, he poked his nose into the walk-in fridge. There he found a tube of croissants. Excited by the find, he grabbed a tub of butter and headed out.

  Turning the oven on to preheat, he then went rummaging around until he found a baking sheet. He busted open the tube and unrolled the pre-formed croissant dough, placing them evenly spaced on the sheet. Not waiting for the preheat, he slid the croissants into the oven and went to stir up the items on the stovetop. He didn’t see a timer anywhere, so he just glanced at his watch.

  The timing here would be critical. The croissants would be just starting to brown in about twelve minutes. The water in the pasta pot was beginning to boil, so that was good. The soup was already heating up, and the chicken was lightly browned. He upended the soup into the pan with the chicken and put the lid back on. He wanted to be sure not to overcook the chicken or the pasta.

  Lastly, he went into the pantry and found a jar of peaches. He’d always been a fan of cold peaches, so he took the jar to the freezer and left it there. By the time they finished the main course the fruit should have a nice little chill to it.

  With nothing to do food-wise for a few minutes, he went and found plates and glasses. Setting the table with silverware and cloth napkins as well. He thought about a bottle of white wine he’d brought with him, but decided he didn’t want to find out tonight whether Evan was a friendly drunk. The odds weren’t exactly in his favor. So he fetched an ice bucket and a two-liter bottle of clear soda and set those on the table as well.

  Another check of the food revealed he had about five minutes. So he prepared a large bowl to mix the pasta, chicken, and soup into. He found a colander to drain the pasta in, and located a canister of grated parmesan cheese. With two minutes to go, he stuck his head out into the corridor and called out, “Dinner’s on! Come get it while it’s hot!”

  He went back and opened the oven briefly to see that the croissants were a toasty light brown and starting to flake. He turned off the heat but left them in place for a moment. He turned off the burners as well before grabbing the large pot and dumping the pasta into the colander he’d placed in the sink. Leaving that to drain he removed the lid from the pan and stirred the chicken a bit. He used a fork to cut into a few pieces to make sure they were cooked through. Then he dumped the whole pan into the large bowl, followed quickly by the pasta. He mixed them all thoroughly then carried the bowl over to the table.

  As the others entered the kitchen, he opened the oven and withdrew the croissants, transferring them quickly to a plate and grabbing the butter. Setting them both on the table, he motioned for Lisa and Evan to take a seat.

  “I thought I’d make something nice for dinner. Old bachelor’s recipe. Nothing fancy, but it should taste good.”

  He began to dish some of the pasta dish onto plates. He passed one first to Lisa, but noted as he prepared the second that Evan reached over and claimed it for himself. He gave the man a dirty look, but Evan was oblivious, already forking a mouthful into his gaping maw.

  Griff handed the second plate to Lisa, who didn’t meet his gaze. After dishing some up for himself, he sat and laid a napkin on his lap. He lifted the plate of fresh hot croissants and off
ered it to Lisa. She took one and reached for the butter. Evan barely paused in shoveling his food as he grabbed two croissants. Griff took one for himself and began to eat.

  The meal passed in near total silence. Evan grunted a few times, and demanded the butter from Lisa. He was semi-polite as he asked Griff for the soda, but then reached bare-handed into the ice bucket for a handful of cubes. Lisa rolled her eyes and continued to avoid Griff’s. He assumed from her posture and her clear desire to avoid interaction with him that the earlier fight must have had something to do with him.

  As the meal was nearly complete, he said, “I’ve got peaches for dessert.”

  Rising from his chair, he retrieved the jar from the freezer and poured the peaches into three bowls, then returned to the table with the sweet, syrupy goodness and passed them out.

  Again, Evan didn’t say a word. He wolfed down the sections of fruit, lifting the bowl to slurp up the last of the watery syrup. When he was done, he set down the bowl, stood, and grabbed Lisa’s arm.

  “I’m done. Let’s go.” He pulled on her arm, causing her to drop her spoonful of peach onto the table. She let out a small cry of pain as he yanked her from her seat.

  Griff was instantly on his feet. “Hoy mate! There’s no call for that! Let ‘er go so she can finish her meal.”

  Evan did let her go as he turned with a snarl toward Griff. His fists clenched and unclenched as he stared at Griff. “What’s between me ‘n her ain’t none o’ yer concern!” His voice was low and filled with malice.

  The man was a workout nut, and every bit of him was muscle. He took a step around Lisa, pushing her to the floor behind him. Griff considered picking up a fork from the table and stabbing the man in the throat. But the idea of Lisa being angry at him, or worse, afraid of him, stopped him. He’d have to do this the hard way.

  He held his open hands up in front of him and patted the air. “Look, mate. I don’t want trouble. We’re stuck down here together in a small space. I want to get along with ye, I really do. But I can’t let ye be roughin’ up the lady. I weren’t raised that way.”