CPC-02. Couch Potato Crisis, page 17
part #2 of Couch Potato Chronicles Series
“What?”
“Summon, can you still summon?”
The tentacle slapped itself against its rows of teeth, trying to catch one of them. It chomped down, costing Tasha seven hearts of damage. She protected the girl with her own body, blocking the teeth. A tongue reached out to snap her up, but she drew out the gunblade and stabbed at the tongue. As she cut the oncoming organ, fluids poured from the open wound. The tentacle was still moving, and she had lost her only anchor.
“Yeah, I can summon.”
“Then summon Undyne, right now!”
“Un….Undyne, come forth!”
Blobby’s mouth opened to give one final chomp. In the light of the afternoon sun, a giant woman made entirely of water slammed her fist into the dread fiend’s face. The ship it had been holding fell from its tentacled grip, slamming back into the waves. It dipped this way and that before stabilizing upright.
Undyne reached in and pulled the two of them out and away from Blobby’s gaping maw.
Blood dripped from Tasha’s open wound, leaking into the water that composed Undyne’s body. She placed them back on the deck of the Dea Latis. Blobbly lashed out with a free tentacle, grabbing Undyne’s arm and snapping it off. Her arm fell into the sea, exploding into water. Undyne cupped her remaining hand behind her, her movements indicating the same ice attack she’d performed earlier.
“The burst engine is charged and standing by!” came a voice from a speaker by the helm.
Captain Malarkey picked up a receiver and spoke into it. “Then fire it up!” He turned to Tasha and Pan. “Grab onto something! If we don’t explode, you’re about to see some real speed.”
Ari grabbed onto Pan, and she hugged him tight.
The ship jolted forward, nocking Tasha onto her back with the sudden rush of movement. Without a sail, the burst steam engine was their only remaining method of propulsion. She looked back. Undyne the Wayfarer was still fighting against Blobby, and the dread fiend had lost over thirty hit points from the combination of Tasha’s and Undyne’s attacks—slightly more than a quarter of the dread fiend’s health.
Blobby lashed at the figment over and over until she vanished in a cloud of purple mist. The water which constituted her form splashed into the waves below, returning to the sea.
Combat ends.
0 experience gained
0 GP found
The Dea Latis was still accelerating. In less than a minute, the dread fiend was so far behind he could no longer be seen. The ship blazed forward as the seconds ticked by. After a time, the acceleration ground to a halt and the ship slowed to a dead stop.
Still holding tightly to Ari, Pan said, “We’ve stopped. B..Blobby will catch us!”
“No, he won’t.” Ari indicated the horizon, where a faint outline of the far shore remained just barely visible. “Blobby’s never come this close to land before.”
“Let’s not test that assumption.” Captain Malarkeyturned to several crew members who were gathered together. “Quickly now, get that mast repaired and raise the mainsails. Don’t dawdle. I want us out of the open water where the dread fiend can get to us.”
The gnomes went to work, using duct tape and spare planks to re-attach the mast.
Ari approached Tasha. “Thanks for keeping Pan safe. That’s another one I owe you.”
“T...thanks Tasha,” said Pan.
Tasha looked away. “Aww, you’re making me blush. Just forget it. You don’t owe me anything. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t saved me before.”
Pan wrapped her arms around Tasha.
“Oh, is it group hug time?”
“No, I won’t forget what you did,” said Ari. “Pan is my entire world, my whole purpose, and you kept her safe. Thank you.”
“I told you, it’s fine. You would have done the same for me. Remember that time you literally died to keep me safe from the spider queen, and that was before we got to know each other.”
Slimon approached and cast an area of effect spell which healed Tasha’s and Pan’s wounds. Seeing the group hug, he joined in, wrapping his tentacles around the group. Hermes, who considered himself much too manly to engage in such a spectacle, kept his distance.
“Yeah, I’m gonna sit this hug out,” said Kegan. “Not really my thing. But you were really impressive Tasha. You too, Pan. Without your figment, I doubt we’d have escaped.”
Pan grinned and looked at the ground. She liked receiving compliments but never knew how to respond to them.
Tasha took a good look at her armor. The spider-silk had been completely destroyed. The dread fiend’s teeth had cut through it in several places. The spidersilk mail was useless as armor now. It had never been damaged this badly, and it looked as though it couldn’t be repaired. She’d need to shop around for new armor sometime in the near future.
Ari approached the captain who was busy shouting commands at his subordinates, “Captain, how long until we’re underway? Nobody’s ever escaped Blobby before. I don’t think we should trust the shore will keep him away for long.”
“Don’t worry. My ever-diligent workers are applying the final layer of duct tape and chewing gum to the mast now. We should be underway in a few more minutes. Assuming that the dread fiend doesn’t catch us and we have a wind to sail by, we should reach Wombat Island by nightfall.”
Minutes passed until there was a sufficient quantity of duct tape to keep the mast upright for the remainder of their voyage. The crew unfurled the main sail and the ship began to move at a slow clip. Knock on wood, they’d made it through this difficult leg of their journey.
Soon they’d reach Wombat Island where…Where what would happen? The captain said he was bringing them to see someone, and Ari had already guessed he was talking about K’her Noálin. Was this the part where Captain Malarkey betrayed them and turned them over to her former enemy? And what would Kegan say when he finally confronted captain K’her, the same man who had destroyed his home and captured his family and friends to be sold as slaves?
Even if K’her didn’t try to have them killed—and that was a big if—could the former airship captain really get them to Zhakara?
The next few hours were going to be difficult to navigate. They may all be bitter enemies within the next few hours, but for the time being, they were companions in arms. Friendships were meant to be enjoyed while they lasted.
The future would attend to itself. It always does.
Captain K’her Noálin, a dark elf with ebony skin and long silver hair, sat at his usual table in the corner, staring into the abyss. Stained with alcohol and blood, his attire was an old pirate outfit which had seen better days.
Over the last few months he’d drunk away most of his savings, spending it on death whisky and harlots, trying to fill the emptiness inside him. When that thrice-accursed Player took the Orb of Air from him, a part of himself had been ripped away. The power and control the orb had given him were gone. It was like he’d lost a good friend. It was like he’d lost his only friend.
For what remained of a man once everything that gave him purpose was stripped away? What dull shadow lingered when all possibility of meaning was lost? Who was Captain K’her now that everything that had made him who he was had disappeared?
No, he was no captain. That title no longer applied to him, as he no longer had a ship nor a crew to command. His flagship had fallen to dragon’s breath, and his crew had deserted him. The Noálin pirate group had been disbanded. His first mate, Mister Malarkey had been one of the last to go, but in the end, even he had deserted his once captain, taking the title for himself. He’d promised to return with more lucre, but that had been many weeks ago.
A barely dressed dark elven-barmaid approached his table. She leaned over suggestively. “Be thar anythin' I can do fer ye, cap'n?”
“Aye, brin' me another ale.”
“Are ye sure ye don’t be wantin’ some womanly companionship?”
He wanted to say yes, but...
“Nay, lass, just the swill. An’ cheap as ye can make it.”
She pouted. “Aye cap’n”
He winced. He was no captain. A minute later, she returned with his drink. He drank deeply. It was disgusting Zhakaran-made rotgut, but it served to dull his sense of loss. The coffers had run dry, and he could afford neither death whisky nor comely strumpets. What would he do when it was gone and there was nothing left between him and the abyss?
He collapsed back into his chair and took another sip.
Chapter 9
The Sorceress of the South
Queen Murderjoy paced in her throne room. The large red chair laden with jewels and intricate designs sat empty as the queen fumed.
Where was Gelkorus? He should have reported the princess’s situation days ago. He was a time mage, so he should have been able to travel any distance in minutes. What possible reason could he have for keeping her waiting? Had something gone wrong?
An attendant entered the large chamber and approached before kneeling on his right knee. “My queen. A messenger girl has begged an audience with your greatness.”
Another supplicant? Their constant problems annoyed her. They expected her to fix everything for them. It was always my-family-is-starving this, or bandits-have-destroyed-my-village that. And they expected her to deal with these tedious matters of state. Wasn’t that why she had trusted advisers in the first place?
It was primarily for this reason that she’d adopted the habit of incinerating supplicants. If she killed enough of them, the others might get the message and stop coming. But there was always one or two who either didn’t get the message or lacked basic pattern recognition.
It wasn’t like she was busy. There wasn’t much she could do until Gelkorus gave his report. “Fine. We will see her. Send her in. And return with cleaning supplies to remove the messenger girl’s ashes after I incinerate her.”
“Yes, my queen.” The attendant left the room. Queen Murderjoy stopped her pacing and sat on her throne as she waited for the messenger to be announced.
A small teenage girl with brown hair done into pigtails entered the throne room. She wore a simple beige shirt and knee-length skirt. The queen scanned her. The girl’s name was Paula, and her scan reported she was a level 8 dancer. Maybe the queen would have the girl dance before incinerating her. It might help take her mind off things.
There was something about the girl that tugged on the queen’s memories. She looked familiar in a way that the queen couldn’t place. “Do I know you, girl?”
The supplicant looked up without fully meeting the queen’s gaze. “No, your highness. We’ve never met. I have a message to deliver.”
Her voice was familiar. Where had she heard it? It seemed unlikely any supplicant would appear before her twice, but… she’d seen this girl before. As a supplicant. Not just once or twice, but many times and each one ended with Paula’s incineration. And every time it was bad news.
The queen stood up and approached Paula. “No, I’ve seen you before. Now that I think about it, I’ve seen you dozens of times. Whenever there’s bad news, you’re there to give it to me. Why didn’t I notice that before?”
“What? N…no, I’m not…”
“Gelkorus sent you, didn’t he? Let me guess, he pays you to deliver bad news. And then I kill you instead of him. How surprisingly ruthless of him. I clearly haven’t given him enough credit.”
“How…how did you know?”
“Never mind that. Go ahead and deliver your bad news. I’m sure it can’t be anything too important.”
Paula removed a scroll from her inventory and unfolded it. “Should I read it to you?”
Murderjoy shook her head. “Bring it to me. I’ll read it myself.”
A guard approached the young woman and took the envelope from her hands before carrying it to the queen. Murderjoy’s face soured as she read the message. She clenched her fist, crumpling the paper into a ball.
“Gelkorus, that fool! He lost the princess? I gave him one task—take Kiwistafel to Penfold’s Lab. That’s all he had to do, and he couldn’t even handle such a simple thing.”
The queen approached the young woman. “Tell Gelkorus not to return unless he recovers Kiwi.”
“Y-yes, your highness.”
“And from now on, he will make his reports to me in person and not by messenger.”
“I’ll tell him, your highness.”
There was an uncomfortable pause. When Paula didn’t leave, Aralynn said, “That’s all. Get out.”
“Don’t you want to…you know…”
“Don’t I want to, what?”
“It’s just that you’ve always incinerated me before. Don’t you want to kill the messenger? For old time sake?”
It occurred to the queen that the girl must enjoy being incinerated. Was she some sort of masochist? The queen was in no mood to indulge Paula’s strange request.
“No. Now get out.”
Paula took a step back reflexively. “You could have me thrown out a window...”
“Get out!”
Paula bowed and left the audience chamber, disappointed. The next time the queen saw Gelkorus, she would hold him responsible for his failures.
Paula sat across from Gelkorus at the wooden table in the main room of her small apartment. She was nervous about this meeting. Since the queen had uncovered her true identity, it was possible...no it was likely that Gelkorus would no longer require her services. She could no longer serve as his bad news giver.
“So, you say she recognized you,” said the elderly bearded fellow. “Weren’t you wearing a disguise?”
Paula shook her head. “I just did my hair up differently and wore a new outfit every time I met with her. She’d never remembered me before now.”
“I see,” said Gelkorus. “This is most unfortunate. It will take some effort for me to get back into the queen’s good graces. For now, I’ll have to track the princess down myself.”
“How will you find her?”
The old man nodded. “There are several abandoned settlements in the area where they might have taken shelter. I’ll have to check them one at a time.”
“What’s going to happen to me?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Now that I’ve been recognized by the queen, do you still need me around?”
Gelkorus paused, scrunching up his face in thought for a moment. “I can’t pay you as much as before since you can no longer act as a go-between for the queen and myself. I’ll pay you a small retainer to take care of your basic needs.”
Paula said, “Thanks, that’s a load off my mind. But, why pay me anything at all?”
“When I found you, you were GP-less, starving, and begging for scraps on the street. You’d taken to killing yourself over and over to avoid starvation. I played a part in lifting you out of that unhappy lifestyle. It would be a shame to see my efforts go to waste.
“But that’s not the real reason. You’ve been loyal to me, Paula. You’ve kept my secrets and been there for me every time I’ve called upon you. Loyalty like that should be cultivated and rewarded. This isn’t just charity. I may have a use for you again in the future.”
Paula nodded. “Thank you, Gel. I’m at your disposal.”
Gelkorus’s face darkened. “Our queen’s most recent resurrection troubles me. Before now, she left most of the actual governing of Zhakara to me and the other advisors. She’s always been headstrong, but until now I’ve been able to guide her actions. I fear she won’t listen to my council like she used to.”
“What do you mean?”
Gelkorus popped open the can of soda Paula had laid out on the table for him. He took a drink. “In her last life, the queen was easy to manipulate. She was more concerned with her pet projects than actually ruling. I was able to guide her toward suspending the war with Questgivria. Given more time, I might have been able to forge a more permanent peace treaty between our two superpowers. Unfortunately, that Player and her associates killed her at the Spiral Tower. When the queen resurrected, what was the first thing she did?”
Paula shrugged. “She kidnapped the elven princess.”
“Exactly, and not by using intermediaries like before. She traveled to Brightwind herself and used a forbidden charm spell to get the job done, an act practically designed to provoke the Questgivrians. She destroyed all my careful planning and efforts toward peace and our long-term prosperity in a single senseless act of stupidity.”
Paula asked, “You think Zhakara’s prosperity is dependant on peace?”
“Of course it is! Most of our people live in abject poverty. Instead of spending money on improving the quality of life for our people, we spend it on war and dreams of conquest. We outfit armies while our people starve, and we’re no closer to conquering the elven kingdom than we were when this war began.
“I used to be able to talk with Aralynn, but my words no longer reach her. When we first met, she followed my every suggestion.”
“How did you meet her?” asked Paula.
“I suppose I can tell you, but this will need to remain another one of our secrets.”
Paula nodded, and the Time Mage continued his telling. “It was fourteen years ago, and King Markus Reiser the Third had just died without leaving behind an heir or naming a successor. The Zhakaran houses were divided on who would claim the throne. Lord Uriel Walker had the strongest claim based on blood ties, but Uriel was considered weak due to his desire for peace.”
Paula frowned. “But didn’t you just say that you also wanted peace with Questgivria?”
Gelkorus laughed. “Yes, but I’m not so foolish as to say that aloud in court. In a kingdom such as ours, peace can only be accomplished from the shadows. When I called for peace, I phrased it as a strategic ceasefire. Um…where was I?”
“King Reiser just died without an heir.”
“Right. Anyway, there was no obvious solution, and civil war looked more and more likely. Nobody wanted that since infighting would weaken Zhakara’s position on the world stage. We needed somebody who could unite the houses.
