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Run Like Hell Page 2
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“Scars,” said War Cloud, “what about the gate garrison?”
“If they’re smart, they’ll come with us,” said Scars.
“They’re not smart,” warned Yargol.
“I know. Hopefully we can at least find real weapons before we get there.”
“Get where?” asked a voice as they came to the next corner. “You look like hell.”
Scars halted, straightening up as he fought his own momentum. The others had much the same reaction; Yargol even bounced off of War Cloud. A figure every bit as tall and broad-shouldered as War Cloud emerged from the shadows at the corner. Catlike ears framed a face of short, dark fur. Like DigDig, most of the bugbear’s armor was made up of dark, hardened leather, but stealth and flexibility won out over protection on her ensemble.
“Shady Tooth,” Scars sighed with relief.
Her beady, black eyes narrowed. “Not alone,” the bugbear warned quietly. She looked over her shoulder, her pointed ears turning backward at sounds Scars had not yet caught. He knew it was the single last person Scars wanted to deal with before Shady Tooth whispered his name: “It’s Gutspike.”
“Aw shit,” grunted Scars.
“Who’s there?” asked a louder, gravelly voice. Another bugbear came forward, standing a head taller than any of them, with longer facial fur and longer scars cutting through it. A shield hung from his left arm; a spiked mace rode in his opposite hand. More bugbears filed in behind him.
Gutspike sneered at the first sight of the others. “Huh. Scars. And a couple other pariahs. Like you all formed a little club of rejects. Where are you shits going? None of you belong down here.” Then their appearance caught up with him. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Adventurers,” said Scars. “Upstairs. They tore through us like a hurricane and pushed right on up to the wizard. It’s already over.”
“Bullshit,” Gutspike scoffed. “We just made a patrol. No sign of adventurers anywhere.”
“Except for maybe the burnt crater and all the bodies in the bloodfang grove,” muttered Shady Tooth.
Gutspike shot a murderous glare at her, raising his spiked mace under her chin. “Shut your mouth before I shut it for you. Nobody wants you on patrols or hunting parties. You’re only here because you begged for a job. I mean nobody came through the garrison.”
“Not the garrison,” DigDig spoke up. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “The pipe. Down in—”
Gutspike’s foot came up in a snap kick, catching DigDig square in the gut and knocking him backward onto the floor. “Nobody asked you, runt.”
“Don’t touch him again,” said War Cloud. He stepped between the bugbear and the little goblin, putting him directly beside Scars.
“Oh?” Gutspike grinned, his eyes widening with interest. “Is it everyone’s day to forget their place? First she steps out of line, then the snot. Now you? Maybe someone needs a reminder. Nobody’s gonna miss a heretic.”
“There’s no time for this shit,” said Scars. “It’s adventurers. Humans and an elf and a dwarf. Magic spells, magic blades, magic everything. We’re all that’s left from the library. They won’t have any trouble with the wizard. They won’t have any trouble with the likes of you or us, either. We have to move.”
“Oh, and now the mutt is giving orders,” Gutspike observed. He shoved Shady Tooth aside, then jabbed at Scars with the edge of his shield. “Guess I need to remind everyone who the captain is around here. You volunteering to serve as the example, half-an-orc?”
“You’re not listening,” Scars pressed. “Olen Zuck is dead. There are no captains now. We don’t have jobs anymore, Gutspike. Any of us,” he added, glancing to the handful of other bugbears behind him. Of them all, only Shady Tooth reacted, her brow darkening. She moved farther back into the little crowd and the shadows behind it.
“The bastards had magic bags, Gutspike,” Scars continued, heedless of the bugbear’s size as the captain stared down at him. “They talked about a clean sweep.”
“Uh-huh. So?”
“Have you ever seen a crew of adventurers hit a dungeon? If we’re lucky, they’ll leave here as soon as they take everything they can carry. If we’re not, they’ll spend a couple days cleaning out everything they couldn’t stuff in their bags. All that dwarf-made furniture and elven art is worth a fortune in human markets, so I don’t think we’re gonna get lucky. We’re all walking loot bags to them. This job is over. We need to get out. Now.”
“A human bitch like you would know about human markets, wouldn’t you?” asked Gutspike. He shoved Scars again with his shield, then War Cloud.
Behind Gutspike, a hand wrapped around the mouth of one of his subordinates, jerking the bugbear’s head back before the tip of a blade poked out through his throat. The bugbear died with hardly a sound, quietly pulled to the floor by his killer.
Scars said nothing. He stepped back, nudging War Cloud to do the same, giving ground as Gutspike loomed forward. His grip tightened on his chair leg. “It really comes down to this?”
“The way I see it, either I’m right, and you lot are deserters… or you’re right, and I don’t have to give a fuck about the wizard’s rules.” Gutspike glanced to War Cloud, who stepped back with Scars. “What about you? What if I kick you instead of the runt?” He tried it. War Cloud stepped back and blocked low as the captain’s booted foot came up.
Another bugbear behind Gutspike met his end as a blackened, spike-knuckled knife stabbed upward from under his chin. He disappeared behind the shoulders of the others with hardly a sound. The rest never even noticed.
Two down, four to go, plus Gutspike, Scars thought. Still not exactly an equal match. Even on a good day, Gutspike would present a daunting threat to Scars in single combat—and this was not a good day. Scars had already been rolled once this afternoon. So had War Cloud and Yargol. The bugbear leader was better armored and better armed, experienced, and vicious. Every one of his loyalists was still bigger than Scars.
“I’ve had about enough of all you lessers, anyway,” Gutspike went on. “Fucking weaklings all running to hide under the wizard’s caves so the king’s army doesn’t hunt you down like all the rest. Orcs. Goblins. You all broke as soon as King Dostin burned out Southwind Gorge. Pathetic.”
“You’re here, too,” noted War Cloud.
“I’ve got a full sack of coin for my work. What have you got? A cold meal and a blanket in a corner? A handful of coppers so you can pretend you’re getting paid?”
“Teeth,” said DigDig from behind his bigger allies.
“Huh?” Gutspike blinked.
“Teeth,” the goblin repeated. “Wizard said he’d fix my teeth.”
Gutspike laughed. So did his goons—except for the one who felt a pair of knives plunge into either side of his neck behind the rest. “I can fix your little teeth,” Gutspike taunted. “I’ll pull them one by one.”
“You know, ten minutes ago I thought today was nothing but bad news,” said Scars. “But I guess it’s worth it if it means I don’t have to listen to your bullshit and bluster anymore.”
The captain’s grin only broadened. “No, you won’t,” he said. He brought his spiked mace back for a swing while shoving forward with his shield one more time.
Scars and War Cloud stepped back with Gutspike’s push, spreading apart to get room to move. Gutspike came in fast, lunging at War Cloud as much to drive him farther away as to hurt him. All but disregarded by their larger enemy, DigDig hooked in around the gnoll. He swung his shovel low and caught Gutspike behind one knee. The sudden hit to Gutspike’s stride and balance cut his advance short.
Behind the captain, twin spike-knuckled knives rose up in dark hands before plunging into the spines of his allies. To the front, the parting of Scars and War Cloud reminded Gutspike of another enemy. Yargol flung a fiery icicle into the bugbear’s chest. The ice burst on contact, leaving his chest scorched and halting the bugbear’s momentum.
Gutspike’s shield still blocked every
useful angle of attack Scars could make. Scars grabbed the top of the shield with his free hand. He took advantage of the bugbear’s resistance, pulling himself up instead of taking the shield down. His ploy bought him a clear shot to thrust his chair leg against Gutspike’s eye.
War Cloud dodged the spiked mace swinging his way, bringing himself in line with Gutspike’s wrist. The bugbear’s weapon missed, but his forearm caught War Cloud’s borrowed dagger with enough force to impale himself on the blade. Gutspike wrenched back from both of his opponents, slamming Scars against the wall to his side and tearing the dagger from War Cloud’s hand all at once.
“Push forward!” Gutspike shouted without looking back to his comrades. “Get in there!”
Support appeared to his left, yet the wild overhand swing of the bugbear’s axe only left him open for Scars to sidestep the blow and slam his chair leg against his jaw. Scars pressed his advantage, beating his new foe senseless with savage blows to the head. To Gutspike’s right, his last ally faltered under the pain of a shovel swung hard into his crotch from below. War Cloud followed up with a vicious sidelong strike to the head from his own salvaged chair leg.
Even with such woes, his two compatriots gave Gutspike a chance to recover his footing. The dagger buried in his thick wrist wasn’t enough to disable him. He whirled on War Cloud with his spiked mace, bringing it down at the gnoll’s head but catching only his armored shoulder as War Cloud turned to evade the blow. DigDig’s shovel came up at Gutspike, only to be swatted aside in the captain’s backswing.
Scars had his other foe on the floor now. He snatched up the bugbear goon’s axe to provide a real threat to the captain. Though battered and fatigued, Scars lunged in with more spirit than Gutspike could match. The axe landed against the captain’s shield with enough force to drive him back. A second blow put a crack in the upper half of the shield. One of the remaining bugbears rose up again to Gutspike’s aid, only to catch the blade of the axe with his chest.
Another flaming icicle sailed past to keep up the pressure. Gutspike stepped back again, looking for an opening and wanting to regain his balance. He looked left and right for the rest of his back-up. “Get in here! Get in here and fight!”
Then a blade plunged into his side at the narrow gap between his breastplate and backplate. Fur and muscle ducked under his arm to come in at his front, sweeping in close and fast to jam a knife behind his collarbone.
Shady Tooth leaned in close enough for him to feel the breath of her words: “I quit.”
The towering bugbear captain collapsed against the wall. Shady Tooth kept her blades in him as he sank to the floor, staring at his eyes until he expired. She tore her weapons free only to step back and kick him in the face. The captain slumped over in a lifeless heap.
“I never begged for anything,” she seethed.
“I believe you,” said Scars. Shady Tooth turned to glare at him, then DigDig. The goblin only nodded in wide-eyed agreement.
“This really had to happen today? Right when I’m getting back from patrol?” she continued. “They couldn’t get here and wreck everything earlier in the week? I’m supposed to have tomorrow off.”
“Whoa. You get days off?” asked DigDig.
“All the bugbears do.” Shady Tooth shrugged. “Who’s gonna tell us no?”
“War Cloud, how badly are you hurt?” asked Yargol, moving forward to check him.
The gnoll sat on the floor, rolling his shoulder. “It isn’t pleasant. My armor took the worst of it. That’s what it’s for, I guess.” He tugged at the dented plate on his shoulder. “It won’t hold up like that again, though.”
“We need to avoid further fighting if we can,” said Scars.
“The garrison at the gate is still full,” said Shady Tooth. “Full and commanded by this pigshit’s brother.” She kicked the dead captain again. Her eyes turned back to Scars. “They’ll never let us through. Maybe me, but not you given the shape you’re in. Even those idiots will know something is up. We can’t get out that way.”
Scars nodded. It was all he needed to know about her intentions. He didn’t need to ask her about family.
“We could hide until the adventurers clear the garrison out,” suggested War Cloud.
“You said there’s an elf among them,” Shady Tooth countered. “I might evade them alone. Maybe the goblin, too. The rest of you are hurt. Tired. You’ll breathe loudly enough for any elf to find you.”
“They must be finished with Zuck by now,” said Yargol. “At the rate they looted, they won’t be long in moving on. And there’s nowhere farther up for them to go.”
“We can’t stay, we can’t hide, and we’ll never win that fight,” agreed Scars. “We’ve got only one option left.”
“Not an option,” DigDig argued. He shook his head vigorously. “Not an option.”
“How deep have you gone, DigDig?” asked War Cloud.
“Deep enough to know better!”
“At least we’re better armed now,” said Scars. He stooped over another of the fallen to claim his sword, dagger, and waterskin, along with his belt. Another corpse provided a shield. War Cloud found a greatsword amid the debris. Even Yargol claimed a spear and dagger for himself. Though the bugbears were short on real supplies, they provided a little water and some odds and ends—including a few small coinpurses.
“This is bad,” said DigDig, folding his arms across his chest. “This is so bad.”
“None of us are thrilled, either.” Scars noted the slight bulge over the hip of one corpse. He cut through the bugbear’s tunic to find a hidden coinpurse. His own hidden pocket idea wasn’t so unique after all. Scars weighed it in his hand, figuring it had to be something better than copper for the bugbear to bother hiding it. He tossed the purse to DigDig. “Here.”
The goblin blinked. “What’s this?”
“Payment. You’re the guide, right?”
DigDig looked down at the purse in his hands. His eyes slowly turned back up to the others. His eyes settled on War Cloud. “You told Gutspike not to touch me again. Why?”
“You’re part of my crew,” said War Cloud.
“So only the crew can pick on me?”
“No. You’re part of my crew, so nobody picks on you.” War Cloud glanced to Shady Tooth, then to Yargol. “Any of you.”
The little goblin looked overwhelmed—and then determined. “Need light. And rope.”
“I’ve got some rope,” said Shady Tooth.
“Plenty of glowstones on the way back,” said Yargol.
“Then hurry,” DigDig urged. He started walking. “I will scout. Hurry.”
Chapter Two
“Scars, you can’t keep up like this. Neither can the heretic or the mutt.”
“We have names,” said War Cloud.
They spilled out of a narrow stairway tunnel, turning right to follow the trail of glowstones left by their guide. Scars scooped up the rock and kept going. Shady Tooth glanced over her shoulder to the others. “Habit,” she said. Her eyes flicked past him to the hooded figure beside him. “But I forget yours. Haven’t seen you much.”
“Yargol,” came the reply. “I’m used to it.”
“Then let’s all get un-used to it,” said War Cloud.
“Part of your crew, eh?” huffed the bugbear.
“You all are, now.”
“That’s not something I’d have aspired to before today, but I suppose it’s an improvement. Scars, you’re dead on your feet. The mu—Yargol is wheezing. You’re all hurt. You need rest.”
“We need to keep up with DigDig,” said Scars.
“We can’t even see DigDig,” she countered. “He could be thirty feet ahead or thirty miles for all we know.” The crew had picked up plenty of glowstones on the upper level, but they were all tucked into DigDig’s pack or Shady Tooth’s belt pouch. Nobody wanted to mark themselves in the passages with moving sources of light. “That was a nice bit about not picking on each other back there, but he can move better on his
own and he knows it. A smart goblin could disappear on us in a place like this.”
Scars shook his head. “He could’ve disappeared at the start of that fight. He didn’t. DigDig chose his side before we offered him anything more than survival.”
“Fine. Then let’s survive. He’s alright and so am I, but the rest of you aren’t.”
“I’m not bleeding anymore,” Scars grunted. “What more do you want?”
“Magical strength,” spoke up Yargol. “The drain of my power is not so different from physical exertion. I may regain at least some energy with a little rest. We have dangers ahead.”
The warrior in the lead let out a grumbling sigh. He knew Shady Tooth had a point. Yargol, too. This level of the stronghold offered longer halls and fewer chambers blocked by doors or gates, presenting a different sort of challenge. “We need someplace out of sight,” he said.
“A goblin wouldn’t have it any other way.” Shady Tooth whistled, loudly but low. She shrugged as Scars looked back to her. “We had to signal him somehow.”
“Will he know what that means?” asked Scars. Then as if by way of reply, the light from a glowstone flashed up ahead. It disappeared again just as quickly.
“We share blood, but we are different breeds,” said the bugbear. “All goblin folk speak the goblin tongue. It doesn’t include special whistles. Sometimes you have to trust a scout to be a scout.”
Seconds later, the light reappeared at the end of the hall, waved by a goblin leaning out from an alcove. DigDig withdrew as soon as he saw a wave of acknowledgment, his light disappearing with him.
“I don’t know this level,” said War Cloud. “That stairway was more than half hidden. The main stairs skip this place entirely. Where are we?”
“The ancient dwarves used this for food storage,” Yargol explained breathlessly. “Livestock. Farms with… magic lights to… mimic the sun. Gone with the… the First… Darkness.”