3d6 (Caverns and Creatures) Read online

  3d6

  A Caverns and Creatures Mini-Adventure Collection

  By Robert Bevan

  Copyright 2015 Robert Bevan

  This is a collection of the third six Caverns and Creatures Mini-Adventures. It includes:

  House of Madness

  Naga Please

  Elf Inflicted

  The Land Before Tim

  A Fistful of Gold Pieces

  The Minotard

  No new content has been added. Nothing in the stories has been changed. If you’ve already purchased these stories, there’s little need for you to purchase the e-version of this collection.

  I’m making it available for those who either haven’t read them yet, and prefer them in a bundle rather than as individual titles on their reading devices, or for those of you who would like these stories in paperback format, which is available here.

  Acknowledgements:

  First, I’d like to thank Joan Reginaldo for her invaluable criticism. It’s tough to find a good beta-reader. I went through a few before I met Joan. I can’t stress enough how important it is to find someone who understands your vision and is able to help you achieve it. There’s so much more involved than pointing out misplaced commas (though she did a lot of that, too). Go take a look at Joan’s blog if you have a chance. She’s got some good tips on writing. Leave a comment. She likes comments.

  Next, I’d like to thank my beautiful wife, No Young Sook, for her constant support, and for getting up to get the kids ready for school every morning because I left early to go to the office to write some books.

  Next in line to be thanked is my brother-in-law, No Hyun Jun. Every cover of mine you see is the end product of a communication struggle, his English being about on par with my Korean. But the guy can work some Photoshop magic. And he also helps out with the kids quite a bit. Thanks, Hyun Jun.

  I’d also like to thank all of my followers on Twitter, especially those of you who re-tweet my endless loop of book advertisements.

  Finally, I’d like to give a huge thank you to all of my fans out there. You’re the reason I keep on writing.

  House of Madness

  (Original Publication Date: September 18, 2014)

  Julian and his friends were scheduled for shopping detail. Being an elf and therefore not requiring the sleep his companions did, Julian had grown bored in the stale, farty air of the Whore’s Head Inn, and decided it might be a good idea to get a jump on the day.

  Dave had been easy to convince, seeing the wisdom of arriving before the crowds. He had a Wisdom score of 17, after all.

  Tim had taken a little more convincing, so Julian appealed to reason. The sooner they finished the day’s obligations, the sooner he’d be able to start drinking. That was enough for Tim to scrape himself up off the floor.

  Cooper, being neither wise nor reasonable, had required a more direct approach. A Ray of Frost under the loincloth had him wide awake, on his feet, and in a karate stance in an instant.

  The effort proved worthwhile, as the marketplace was nearly empty, except for vendors opening up their carts, stalls, booths, and tents to hawk their days’ wares. This made it extra startling when Tony the Elf suddenly stepped into their path from behind a vegetable cart.

  “Just the fellas I was looking for.”

  “What did we do?” said Tim, glaring up at Cooper.

  Cooper quickly removed his finger from his nostril. “What? I ain’t done shit.”

  “Ha ha!” Tony the Elf said to Tim. “Good one!” After a few seconds of Tim not sharing in his mirth, he continued. “I’m not here to bring trouble.” He took a knee to face Tim eye-to-eye. “I’ve got a lead on something you boys might be interested in.”

  Tim folded his arms and cocked his head to one side.

  “What made you think we’d be in the market?” asked Julian, sharing Tim’s skepticism. Tony the Elf wasn’t normally one for a chipper good morning, especially to Julian and his friends. Dave said he’d even threatened to stab them in the face once, just for talking.

  “Yeah,” said Dave through a yawn. “Especially at this time of day.”

  Tony the Elf stood up. “I didn’t. Just a matter of happenstance, that was. I was headed back to the Whore’s Head to look for you.”

  “So what exactly is this great opportunity you’ve got for us?” asked Tim.

  “Frank hooked me up with a lead on a haunted house. Hildegarde Manor, just south of town.”

  “Uh uh,” said Tim flatly. “No thanks. We’ll pass.”

  “Oh come on, Tim,” said Cooper. “Please don’t tell me you believe in ghosts.”

  “Of course I don’t fucking believe in ghosts,” snapped Tim. “I don’t believe in half-orcs either, but take a look in a goddamn mirror.”

  “I’m with Tim,” said Dave. “This is the Caverns and Creatures world. If there are ghosts in the Monster Manual, you can bet your beard that they’re real.”

  “Can we fight ghosts?” asked Julian.

  “We can’t even touch them without magical weapons,” said Tim. “But they can do some nasty shit to us. Frank’s off his tits if he thinks we’re going to go anywhere near a haunted house, not at the levels we’re at.”

  “See now, that’s the thing,” said Tony the Elf. “I don’t think the place is really haunted.”

  “And what makes you think that?”

  “Frank and I got the scoop from Gorgonzola, who was inquiring about another matter.”

  “Using his Gather Information skill?” asked Julian. He’d seen Gorgonzola use the skill before, and it was remarkable how much information that little gnome had picked up in such a short amount of time.

  “Yeah, right,” said Tony the Elf. “He was out gathering information, and he heard tell of a man who barely made it out of that house with his life, after having watched all of his traveling companions murder each other.”

  Tim frowned. “You’re not really selling this as well as you might think.”

  Tony the Elf looked left, then right, before whispering conspiratorially. “But this guy didn’t say anything about seeing a ghost. It sounds less like a haunting to me, and more like a curse.”

  Tim put his palms out to Tony the Elf. “Okay okay. I think I see where we’re miscommunicating here. The ultimate thing I want to avoid isn’t necessarily ghosts, per se.” He stressed the word ghosts with finger quotes. “It’s more like… um, how do I put this? Oh yeah, being dead.” Again with the finger quotes.

  “Are you being sarcastic?”

  “No, I’m being condescending.”

  “Listen,” said Tony the Elf. “Just hear me out, will ya?”

  “I’m listening,” said Julian. Tim gave him a quick glare, but he pretended not to see it.

  “Curses can be avoided if you take the right precautions.” Tony the Elf looked left and right again before reaching into his shirt’s inside pocket. He pulled out a bunch of leather cords, each one adorned with a circular silver charm about the size of a half dollar.

  Julian reached for one tentatively. Tony the Elf handed him one of the cords. On the silver charm, Julian recognized the nine-pointed star, the magical symbol for protection.

  “What are these?”

  “Talismans,” said Tony the Elf. “I bought them off the old lady in the mystic tent.”

  “The blind one?” asked Tim.

  “That’s her.”

  “How do you know she’s for real?”

  “Oh she’s for real, all right,” said Cooper. “I wagged my dick at her a couple weeks ago. Bitch didn’t even flinch.”

  “That’s reprehensible,” said Dave. “Mocking blind people? That’s a new low, Cooper, even for you.”

  “Well I didn’
t fucking know she was blind until then, now did I?”

  When Cooper got defensive, he got loud. Passersby were beginning to take notice of their little congregation.

  “Let’s talk somewhere else,” said Tony the Elf. “There’s a pub across the street. I’m buying.” He gave Tim a take-it-or-leave-it look and started walking.

  “What do you think?” asked Tim.

  “I don’t know,” said Julian. “It’s kind of early in the morning to be getting hammered, and Frank sent us out to buy supplies. He’ll be pissed if we turn up empty handed and shitfaced.”

  “Again,” Dave added.

  “Frank greenlit this mission,” said Tim. The promise of free booze had obviously opened his mind. “And we can always pin the blame on Tony the Elf.”

  “I don’t think it’s wise,” said Dave, “to make decisions about taking on potentially life-threatening undertakings while under the influence of alcohol.”

  “I’ve got to agree,” said Julian. “This whole situation feels wrong.” He looked at the talisman in his hand. “Still, I’d better return this before we go.”

  They crossed the wide, cobblestone street and walked into the pub through the open doorway. Dave’s boots echoed noisily on the dark, mahogany floor. This place was a world apart from the Whore’s Head Inn. It smelled of pine and cloves, with maybe a hint of grandfatherly tobacco. There wasn’t a whiff of urine or vomit in the place. Cooper would no doubt rectify that in the next couple of minutes. Julian laughed to himself. Cooper. Rectify.

  Tony the Elf was the lone patron in the establishment, sitting by himself at a large polished table with four glistening mugs of beer and a bottle of stonepiss.

  Dave licked his lips. “We could listen to what he has to say.”

  “It’d be rude not to,” said Cooper.

  “One drink’s not going to hurt,” said Tim.

  Julian shook his head and stepped back outside. He whistled at the sky. Ravenus descended from about a quarter of a mile away, where there were still a bunch of normal ravens circling.

  “Shopping all finished, sir?” said Ravenus as he landed atop Julian’s quarterstaff.

  Julian rolled his eyes. “We haven’t even started yet. What’s going on over there?” He nodded up at the black birds circling in the sky. “You making some friends?”

  “Nah,” said Ravenus. “Conversations with other birds just don’t cut it for me no more. Not since I become all smart like. We’re all just hanging around watching two cats fight. I reckon we might get lucky. They both appear to be in pretty bad shape.”

  “Just try to keep out of trouble for a bit,” said Julian. “We’ll be in here if you need anything.”

  Ravenus bobbed his head. “Getting an early start then, are you sir?”

  “Hey now. None of your beak. Go on and enjoy your cat.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Ravenus flapped away, and Julian stepped back into the pub.

  Cooper’s glass was already empty.

  “Jesus, Cooper,” said Julian. “I haven’t been outside more than a minute.”

  “I have a different metabolism than you,” said Cooper. He turned around on his stool. “Bartender. One more please.”

  “Right away, sir,” said the proprietor, an older man. Human. Smartly dressed in a crisp linen shirt, clean brown doublet, and a stain-free apron. Pubs tended to be a little classier as they got nearer the market area.

  Tim rapped his knuckles on the table as he chugged down the last quarter of his own beer.

  “Make it two,” said Cooper.

  “Why would Frank sign off for you to buy magical talismans for a one-shot gig?” Dave asked Tony the Elf. They were the only two who appeared to remember what they were in there for. Still, Dave threw back a shot of stonepiss, then wiped his mouth on the leopard fur of his forearm.

  “Imagine it,” said Tony the Elf. “How many lost travelers has this old house lured in over the years. Decades? Centuries maybe? There’s bound to be piles of dead bodies in there.”

  “So far this only sounds appealing for Ravenus,” said Julian.

  “Now imagine what these people might have had on them when they met their dismal fate. Money? Probably. Weapons? Almost certainly. Who knows? Even if they were all just carrying standard traveling money, that adds up.”

  Julian sipped his beer and smiled on the inside. Though it was warm, it was a much higher quality brew than what they served at the Whore’s Head.

  “We’re not even necessarily talking about peasants here,” said Tim, slamming his mug down a little too hard on the table.

  “I’ll have to ask you to handle the glassware more delicately, sir,” said the owner, replacing Tim and Cooper’s empty mugs with fresh beers.

  “Sorry,” said Tim sheepishly. He waited for the barman to leave before continuing. “Imagine if a group of mid-level adventurers ducked in there, rolled some unlucky saving throws, started going apeshit on each other. Think of what kind of loot they might have left behind.” Tim was a walking billboard on the dangers of alcohol.

  Several drinks and a large plate of breakfast sausages later, Tony the Elf stood up. “I’ve got to hit the can. Settle the bill while I’m gone?” He tossed a small leather sack to Tim. Coins clinked together as the bag hit Tim’s face and fell into his lap.

  Tim shook his head like he was just coming out of a dream. “Yeah, sure thing.”

  When Tony the Elf disappeared through the front door and the barman had gone into the kitchen, Dave leaned in. “So, what do you think?”

  Julian was relieved that someone else was prone to suggest thinking at all. “I don’t like it. We get into enough trouble as it is without actively seeking it out.”

  “Thinking like that gets you nowhere in this game,” said Tim. “To get ahead, you’ve got to jump on opportunities like this when they –” hiccup “present themselves.”

  “You’re drunk,” said Julian. “And this isn’t a game.”

  “Technically, it is,” said Tim. “It’s Caverns and Creatures.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “You’re both right,” said Dave. “We’re in some kind of alternate reality, but it’s still the game. And the situation we’re in right now feels very game like. Think about it. We’re in a tavern, and we’ve just been presented with a quest of sorts.”

  “Whoa,” said Tim. “You are wise.”

  “What’s even better,” Dave continued. “We’ve got inside information. If Tony the Elf’s information all checks out, these talismans might just let us bypass the one trick that house has up its sleeve. Our only challenge might be the logistics of hauling out all of that treasure.”

  Cooper cracked his knuckles and belched up the Ghost of Sausages Past. “I’m up for that challenge.”

  “Come on,” said Julian. “You call that wise? Haven’t you heard If it’s too good to be true, it’s probably… I forget how it goes, but you know what I’m saying.”

  “Pfft,” said Tim. “We can swap empty proverbs all day. Haven’t you heard When opportunity’s knockin’, don’t come a-rockin’?”

  Julian narrowed his eyes at Tim. “I can honestly say I’ve never heard that before in my life.”

  “Dang! Blast it!” the tavern owner shouted as he stomped out of the kitchen. He was clutching his left wrist with his right hand. Blood seeped through his fingers and dripped on the floor.

  “Sir?” said Julian. “Are you okay?”

  The barman winced as he poured a trickle of stonepiss over his bleeding arm. “I done sliced myself open with a gosh darn breadknife.”

  “Damn,” said Dave. “That looks pretty bad.”

  Julian slapped Dave in the back of the head. “You’re a cleric, idiot. Go help him!”

  “Oh yeah.” Dave stumble-waddled to the bar. “Give me your hand.”

  The barman stretched his injured arm over the bar.

  “I heal thee,” said Dave, touching his hand.

  The barman’s eyelids f
luttered as Dave’s healing magic coursed up through his arm. The wound sealed itself.

  “There you go,” said Dave, looking rather pleased with himself. “Good as new.”

  The barman opened and closed his hand, stretching the newly-healed muscles in his forearm. “I can’t thank you enough. Praise be to the good gods.”

  Dave waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t even mention it. I’m happy to help. The food was delicious.”

  “You serve a fine sausage, sir,” said Cooper.

  The barman grinned. “So says the missus.”

  “What do we owe you?” asked Tim, holding the money pouch Tony the Elf had given him.

  “Put that away!” said the barman. “Your money’s no good here!”

  “Fuck,” said Cooper. “How are we supposed to pay?”

  “You see?” said Tim, tucking Tony the Elf’s money into his inner vest pocket. “When opportunity’s knockin’ –”

  “Yeah yeah,” said Julian. “Don’t come a-knockin’. Let’s get out of here before he changes his mind.”

  “And you, sir,” the barman said to Dave. He produced two blue glass bottles from under the bar. They were about a liter each. “Please take these.”

  “What are they?” asked Dave.

  “Stonepiss,” said the barman. “Special blend. My son made these. He’s a court recognized distiller, my boy.”

  Dave’s eyes were fixated on those bottles like they were a pair of glass breasts. “That’s really too much. It was just a simple healing spell.”

  “Not a word of it. That was a nasty cut I gave myself. If not for you, I might not have lived to see my son again, nor serve another drink. I insist.”

  “You’re much too kind, sir.” Dave shifted the contents of his bag around to make room for the two bottles. “You can be sure we’ll visit here again real soon.”

  The barman flexed his left arm. He had some muscle on him for an old man. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”