Critical failures iii ca.., p.1
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Critical Failures III (Caverns and Creatures Book 3), page 1

 

Critical Failures III (Caverns and Creatures Book 3)
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Critical Failures III (Caverns and Creatures Book 3)


  Critical Failures III

  By Robert Bevan

  Copyright 2014 Robert Bevan

  Special Thanks to:

  My ever-supportive wife, No Young Sook.

  My beta reader, Joan Reginaldo, who really went the extra mile to help me with this one.

  No Hyun Jun, for his invaluable technical help and cover art.

  Danny Lovell, for his expertise with antitoxins and testicles.

  Chapter 1

  If Mordred had been having trouble moving his bowels in an unfamiliar location, the condition was cured as soon as he locked eyes with Tim. It all splattered out in a, farty, brown spray on the floor of the Chicken Hut’s walk-in freezer.

  “What the fuck, man?” cried Tim.

  “How?” said Mordred, still squatting on the floor. “You couldn’t… it’s impossible.” Each word came out in a puff of frost.

  “Seriously?” said Tim. “On my fucking floor, dude? You couldn’t hold on just a few more –” The smell of Mordred’s shit hit Tim in the face like a slow-moving, but powerful, blast wave. It wasn’t the horribleness of the smell that made Tim drop to his knees and throw up. He’d spent enough time with Cooper in recent weeks to develop a strong tolerance to much more offensive odors. The sucker-punch to Tim’s guts, in this case, came from the ever so subtle hint of familiarity which hung in the air. Tim knew beyond a doubt that Mordred had been eating the Sweet N’ Tangy chicken.

  Mordred pulled up his pants and bolted toward the open freezer door. Tim made a token effort to get in his way, but Mordred was at least seven times his size and effortlessly pushed him out of the way. For a fat guy clutching shit-caked, unzipped pants around his waist, Mordred was surprisingly nimble as he sidestepped Tim’s puke puddle and ran out the door.

  Tim got to his feet and staggered out after him. Exiting the cloud of Sweet N’ Tangy shit air, his head began to clear. He made it around the side of the big chicken oven just in time to see Mordred collecting his special dice bag, the one with the magical black dice inside.

  “No!” cried Tim.

  “Yeeeeee!” squealed Mordred, looking at Tim as if he was made out of spiders. He grabbed handfuls of regular dice and hurled them at Tim.

  “Ow!” said Tim, shielding his face with his forearms from the barrage of dice. “You fat fucker, come back here with those dice!” But Mordred was already frantically unlocking the front door.

  If that tubby bastard made it to his car, they’d all be fucked. Tim couldn’t let that happen. He may have only been three feet tall, but he could stop Mordred, or at least wrestle the dice away from him. He ran through the kitchen area, out the door, and straight into Julian, who had just materialized out of the thick, salty, gulf coast air. They both tumbled to the pavement.

  “Sir, are you okay?” said Ravenus, flapping his great black wings from right about the point in space where Julian’s shoulder had been a second before.

  Tires squealed. Glowing red taillights glared at Tim against the dark, morning skyline like a pair of demon eyes.

  “Hey,” said Julian. “Isn’t that Mordred’s car? Who’s driving it?”

  “Mordred is, you dumbshit!” said Tim.

  “He’s alive?”

  “Yes! And he’s got the magic dice. We have to stop him!”

  They were too late. The car raced out of the parking lot and onto Highway 90.

  Julian got to his feet. “Magic Missile!” he shouted. The glowing bolt of energy flew out of Julian’s palms. It smashed into Mordred’s rear windshield, shattering the safety glass. The car swerved, but quickly corrected itself and continued on its course. Tim and Julian watched helplessly as it drove out of sight.

  Tim pursed his lips and stared impatiently at Julian’s face while it betrayed the sudden realization of a series of realities.

  “I just used magic in the real world,” said Julian. He looked down at Tim. “You’re still a halfling.” He grabbed his own huge ears. “Holy shit, I’m still an elf!”

  “That’s right,” said Tim. “And thanks to you, we’re going to have to stay that way.”

  “How is this my fault?”

  “I was just about to catch Mordred when you appeared right in the way.”

  “How was I supposed to know any of that?” asked Julian. “Goosewaddle said to visualize the part of the store I was most familiar with. I’d only been here once, so I remembered standing outside the entrance, looking up at the sign.”

  “That’s Professor Goosewaddle,” said Professor Goosewaddle.

  Tim turned around to find the gnomish professor and Chaz standing next to the latter’s motorcycle.

  “’Sup,” said Chaz.

  Tim pointed a stubby finger at Professor Goosewaddle. “What the hell is he doing here?”

  “You shared your vision with him,” Julian explained. “He was curious about our world, and offered to teleport the rest of us free of charge if he could tag along.”

  “Then where’s everyone else?”

  “I’m here,” said Dave, walking out from inside the Chicken Hut. Sure enough, he was still short, stocky, and armored. Butterbean stood by his side, tongue and tail wagging.

  “How did the wolf get here?”

  “I brought him with me,” said Dave. “He’s heavier than he looks.”

  Tim scratched his head. “That still leaves Cooper.”

  “He was the first to go after you,” said Dave. “He should have been here about thirty seconds after you arrived.”

  “Here I am,” said Cooper, lumbering out from around the side of the building.

  “Where the hell have you been?” asked Tim.

  “Shitter.”

  “That was you? Why the hell did you materialize in the bathroom?”

  Cooper shrugged. “I had to poo.” He stared down at his huge, half-orc feet. “You guys might not want to go in there for a few… well, ever.” He looked at Tim. “I’ll pay for the toilet.”

  “Jesus Christ,” said Tim. “Everybody get inside before somebody sees us.” According to the clock on the wall, it wasn’t quite six in the morning, so the odds of them being spotted were still pretty slim, but it seemed wise to avoid all possible risks until they figured out their next move.

  Julian was the last one inside. He turned back to look at Ravenus. “You coming?”

  “I’ve come over a bit peckish, sir,” said the bird. “I thought I might have a look around, do some scavenging.”

  Julian looked at Tim. Tim nodded.

  Julian pointed across the highway. “Fly over there to the beach. You’re bound to come across some dead fish. Stay within a mile, and for the love of God, don’t talk to anybody.”

  “Righty-ho, sir!” said Ravenus, disappearing completely once beyond the glow of the electric lights in the parking lot.

  Once Julian was inside, Tim shut the door behind him, locked it, switched off the exterior sign, and drew the shades over the windows.

  “The sun will come up soon,” said Dave. “Drawing all the shades might raise more eyebrows than if we just tried to lie low.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about raising eyebrows.”

  “Then why draw the shades at all.”

  Tim walked back to the office area, and returned with the Bag of Holding. “Just like you said, Dave. The sun will be up soon.” He put his hand in the bag. “Katherine.” He winced at the feel of her cold, dead wrist, and even more as her nails dug into his living, nerve-filled wrist. He pulled her out of the bag.

  Katherine bared her fangs and hissed, crouching in a defensive position. Her demeanor relaxed as it dawned on her where she was. Her fangs slowly receded as her arms and jaw dropped. She scanned the room until her eyes focused on Tim.

  “You did it!” she said, grabbing him by the upper arms. She lifted him into the air, smashing his head right through the sheetrock faux ceiling.

  “Ow,” said Tim.

  “Sorry,” said Katherine, placing him back on the floor. “I forgot how strong I am now that I’m…”

  Just as he had for Julian, Tim watched the wheels turn inside his undead sister’s head.

  “Why are you still a midget?” she said.

  “Halfling,” Tim corrected her.

  “All of us,” said Katherine, her voice starting to rise slightly in pitch. “How did we get back home if we’re all still carnival freaks?”

  “Calm down, Kat,” said Tim. “That’s just what I was about to ask Professor Goosewaddle.”

  “Who the FUCK is Professor Goose — wait, isn’t that the guy who makes the bath salts?”

  “Um… Professor?”

  The professor had his bulbous nose buried in the Third Edition Caverns and Creatures Monster Manual: Volume 1. “This is fascinating. A scientific journal of every creature which inhabits our world, with numeric values assigned to the most curious of details. What is ‘HP’?”

  “That stands for Hit Points,” said Julian. “That determines how much of a beating they can take before they die.” He looked very proud of himself.

  “A curious statistic indeed.”

  “Professor!” said Tim.

  “Yes, lad,” said Professor Goosewaddle. “Do you have a question?”

  “Why aren’t we human?” asked Tim.

  The professor closed the book and looked quizzically at Tim. “Why would you expect to be human? Honestly, and no offense meant toward the bard, but why would you wa
nt to be?”

  “No sweat, bro,” said Chaz.

  “We’re back home,” said Tim. “Things were supposed to go back to normal. Look.” He grabbed his cell phone and scrolled through pictures, looking for one that wasn’t just another close-up of a dick they had drawn on Cooper or Dave’s face with a dry-erase marker when they had passed out drunk during game play. He finally found an adequate picture of Cooper. He was still passed out with a dick drawn on his face, but it was snapped from far away enough such that he could be recognized as a human being. “Here.”

  The old gnome’s face grew severe as he cradled Tim’s cell phone in his hands. “What is this?”

  “That’s Cooper,” said Tim, satisfied that he finally had the professor’s undivided attention.

  “And this Cooper device,” said Professor Goosewaddle, holding the phone close to his eyes, and then far away. “It has the ability to capture a person’s image? Astounding. Such remarkable clarity and attention to detail.” He tilted the phone on its side. His eyes grew wide as the image on the screen flipped horizontally. “What sorcery is this!” He cast it away as if it had just turned into a rabid badger.

  Tim dove to catch his phone, and was surprised that the effort paid off. His high Dexterity score must still apply even here.

  "Careful with that!" he said as he got back to his feet. "Cooper isn't the device. He's the guy in the picture. The same guy who's now the half-orc standing right there." He pointed at Cooper, who was swaying on his feet and staring intently at nothing in particular. "Dude, are you okay?”

  “I don’t feel so hot,” said Cooper. An open wound in his belly was oozing something that looked like purple cottage cheese.

  “What the hell happened to you?”

  “Huh?” Cooper looked down at his belly. “Oh, that. It’s nothing. I got stabbed.” He let out a shallow, wheezy laugh and pulled a dagger out of his bag. “It was that guy called Famine. Stupid fucker left the knife.”

  “That looks too serious for a simple stab wound,” said Tim. “Julian, can you Detect Magic on that dagger?”

  “Sure thing,” said Julian. He closed his eyes and mumbled a quick incantation. When he opened them again, they glowed white. “There’s nothing magical about that dagger.”

  “Let me see that,” said Dave, taking the dagger out of Cooper’s hand. “Detect Poison.” He held the blade close to his eyes for nearly a minute. “There’s a residue on here,” he said. “This is concentrated scorpion venom.”

  “I think I need to go shit again,” said Cooper.

  “Use the back door,” said Tim. “Just shit behind the building, and try to make sure nobody sees you.”

  Cooper staggered toward the back door.

  Julian removed Cooper’s character sheet from its tube. “He’s in some serious shit, guys,’ he said. “His Constitution score is down to 9.”

  “He got bit by a vampire and stabbed with concentrated scorpion venom,” said Dave. “He’s lucky to be alive at all.”

  “Well he won’t be if we don’t act fast,” said Julian. “His Constitution just dropped down to 8.”

  “Shit,” said Tim. “We need to find a… dammit, I forgot the word. Taxidermist?”

  “You want to have him stuffed?” said Dave.

  “No,” said Tim. “A dude who studies poisons.”

  “Toxicologist?” suggested Julian.

  “That’s the one.”

  “Is anyone else getting hot in here?” asked Katherine.

  Tim looked at the window. Dawn was breaking and the shaded windows were getting lighter.

  “Kat, you’ve got to get in the freezer, like right now.”

  “But I –”

  “Not up for negotiation. The sun is coming up. You’ll be safe from the light in there.” He grabbed her arm and started to lead her to the back of the store. The next thing he knew, he was on the other side of the room, his back slammed into the side of the drink cooler.

  “I can find my own way, thanks,” said Katherine. “If I may finish what I was saying, I didn’t come here alone.”

  Tim stood up and tried to stretch the pain out of his back. “What are you talking about?”

  Katherine picked up the Bag of Holding, looked inside, turned it upside down and shook it. “How does this thing work?”

  “You put your hand inside and speak the name of the thing you’re looking for. Katherine, what are you looking for?”

  “There’s someone else in the bag.”

  “What?” said Julian.

  “Oh no,” said Dave. “You don’t mean…”

  Katherine reached into the bag. “Ginfizzle.”

  “Who the fuck is Ginfizzle?” asked Tim.

  Dave sighed. “He’s the halfling who ambushed us in the woods after we left Millard’s fort.”

  “Katherine!” said Tim. “We didn’t put him in there to keep you company. You were supposed to eat that guy.”

  “I did,” said Katherine, pulling a snarling, writhing former-halfling out of the bag. “He turned.”

  “Take it easy, Ginny,” said Katherine. “It’s me.”

  At once, the undead midget turned calm. He held the hand that Katherine had retrieved him with, and wrapped his other arm around her leg. He cowered behind her as he took stock of what must have been some very unfamiliar surroundings.

  “Where are we, Master? What is this place?”

  Katherine stroked his dirty, matted hair. “We’re safe, dear. Don’t worry. Nobody’s going to hurt you.” The last sentence was clearly meant more for everyone else’s ears than for Ginfizzle’s.

  “It’s nice to see you’ve made a friend, Kat,” said Tim.

  Katherine squinted as the morning light penetrated more densely through the blinds. She took Ginfizzle into a shadowy corner. “We’ll retire to the freezer. We’ll need to eat when we wake up. Something alive.”

  Tim shivered. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

  Katherine opened the freezer door. “Jesus Christ!” she said. “It smells like — Oh God! Did someone take a shit in here?”

  “Oh right,” said Tim. “Sorry about that. Mordred took a dump on the floor just before he left.”

  “And the puke?”

  Tim lowered his head. “That’s mine.”

  “Wait a second,” said Katherine. “Mordred’s alive? Why aren’t you going after him?”

  “We’re working on it!”

  “Well excuse me!” Katherine snapped back at him, her canine teeth growing just a little longer and sharper. “You could have at least cleaned up the shit and vomit!”

  “Why don’t you get your new best friend to do it?”

  Katherine’s teeth retracted to their normal size. “Not a bad idea.” She grabbed a bucket, a mop, a sponge, and a bottle of industrial strength green cleaning liquid. “Oh Ginny!”

  “I live only to serve you, Master!”

  The two vampires retired into the freezer. Tim let out a satisfied sigh when the latch locked shut behind them. He wasn’t sure if Katherine trusted him to let her out or if she just forgot about the broken latch, and he didn’t care. Those were two headaches he could postpone until he was ready for them. Tim rejoined the party in the dining area.

  “Oh, don’t you even get me going.” Professor Goosewaddle was in a heated exchange with Julian. “You’re listed here as being proficient with every type of weapon there is, and you get a bonus to Listen, Search, and Spot checks, whatever in the Abyss those are.”

  “You’ve got racial benefits as well,” said Julian.

  “Oh sure!” said the professor. “Let’s have a look at those again, shall we?” He flipped over to the appropriate page. “Size bonus to AC and attack rolls! Size bonus to Hide checks!” He jabbed his finger into the book every time he said ‘size’. “Bonus to attack rolls against kobolds and goblinoids! AC bonus against giants! Every bonus I get comes either from being short or a bigot.”

  “Are you saying you’ve got nothing against kobolds?”

  “Of course not,” said Professor Goosewaddle, keeping his eyes on the book. “I mean, not the good ones.”

  “Would you be okay with your daughter marrying a kobold?”

  “That’s preposterous!” said the professor.

  Julian crossed his arms with a look of smug satisfaction.

  “What?” the professor exclaimed. “They’re not even mammals!”

 
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