Hesketh Tolson
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RS Chapter 20
🕑 Added 2021-02-14 15:45:41 +0000 UTCRomeo and Juliet, Opus 64
The disco ball swung precariously from the high vaulted ceiling. Sparkles of light glistened and bounced off the piles of bones and the exhausted party.
"Well," said Alice, leaning on Hugo and wiping her brow. "That was fun."
"I could drink eleven cups of tea," said Fred. He turned to Epic who was standing, almost hip deep in bones looking a little shell-shocked. He offered her a hand and hauled her out. "Feeling better?"
"Yes," she said, blushing.
"So what exactly does your bonus do?" Joan asked. "A berserker rage? How were you able to do that thing with your bag?"
"Oh," Epic looked a bit embarrassed. "My bonus is the ability to use any object as a weapon. As long as I'm angry."
"Right," said Joan, a considering look in her eyes. "Right. Nice."
Alice slapped Epic on the back, nearly sending the small woman flying.
"Good job," she said. Epic's blush deepened.
"Anything as a weapon?" mused Hugo. "Could you use a flower petal? Or Alice?"
"Oi," said Alice.
"I don't know," said Epic, "this is the first time I've tried it."
Everyone looked around at the carnage, sparkling under the disco ball's lights.
"Well, I'm very glad you did," said Fred.
The Incomplete Guide to Some Things appeared with a bang and a pop. Golden sparks filled the air, along with the acrid smell of fireworks. This time he was wearing a red cardboard party hat that clashed with his ginger hair as well as his ever-present condescending smirk. He blew on a party horn* and it made a noise a bit like a tormented banshee. Betty appeared, clad in pink leg warmers, a luminous yellow polka dot shirt and a denim miniskirt. She threw two handfuls of glitter, nailing the sass required for a glitter tosh.
"Bravo," said Fred, approvingly. "And nice leg warmers." Betty narrowed her eyes.
"Congrats, losers!" said the Guide, ignoring them. "I see you somehow managed to claw your ways out of tutorial mode. Well, I am impressed."
"Are you really?" asked Hugo.
"No."
"What happened to the wheel?" said Joan. "And the er–"
"We're trying something new," said the Guide. "Anyway. Let's get this over with. Hup, hup come on. Since there's so many of you. Quite frankly I'm getting bored. Let's do a lucky pick."
"Okay..." said Fred.
Betty produced a large bag. It was nondescript, brown and hessian – about the size of Father Christmas's sack if Father Christmas was a small, angry looking goblin in luminous eighties disco dress. She shook the bag at Fred. It rustled.
"Pick one!" she said, in her deep gravelly voice.
"Pick a bonus upgrade?" said Fred.
"Yes," said Betty.
"From in the sack?"
"Or we can scrap the idea and all go home," said the Guide, yawning. "I for one can think of several million things I would rather–"
"No, no," said Fred, hurriedly. He plunged his hand into the sack and drew out a neatly folded slip of paper. "Condensed Milk Bonus Power Increase" was written on it in neat, offensive cursive. "Oh come on," he said. "A power increase to the most useless bonus ever."
"Don't say that," said Alice giggling.
"Why?"
"Think of the tiramisus."
Fred bared his teeth at her.
"How do you even make a condensed milk bonus more powerful?"
"Maybe instead of making cup-sized amounts," said Joan, "you could fill a cathedral."
"Steady on," said Fred.
"More like a bucket," said the Guide, yawning. "Come on, come on, we haven't got all day. Next!" Betty shook the sack at Joan. Joan took a paper, scrunching up her face as she prayed to whatever god reincarnated pirate-trees prayed too. Fred wondered when he would next be able to get his hands on a cup of tea and came to the unhappy conclusion that it would be some time.
"Please let it be a healing spell!" said Joan. She opened her hand. "Ah."
"What is it?" everyone asked, leaning in to look.
"Healing Spell!" she said. "A basic one but still! Thank you Dungeon!"
"Suck up," muttered the Guide. He had started painting his nails. He looked up at the pause. "Next! Come on!"
Betty held the bag out to Alice.
"I don't have a bonus," she said, her voice low. Betty shook it again.
"Take one," she demanded.
"Go on!" said Hugo.
"Take it or leave it," said the Guide, stretching out a hand to admire his handwork. He blew on a wet thumb. "But hurry the fuck along, please. Some of us have places to be."
"Okay," said Alice, with a shrug. She took a deep breath. "Okay." She rolled her eyes, presumably to make sure everyone knew she didn't care. The hand she reached into the bag was shaking slightly. Alice stared down at the paper.
"What is it?" asked Hugo, craning his neck. "What did you get?"
"Lead Stomach Bonus," she said. "Poison resistance. I am 50% harder to poison than a usual player!"
"Nice!" said Joan. "Well done Alice!" Alice flushed a deep scarlet.
"All that booze, paying off," the Guide tutted and shook his head. "The youth of today, I tell you...chop-chop," he said to Betty.
Betty shook the Bag demandingly at Hugo. He grabbed a paper without hesitation, his ears pink with excitement.
"Luck Bonus Power Increase!" he said, grinning from ear to ear.
"You," said Betty, shoving the bag under Epic's nose.
"Are we nearly done?" asked the Guide, loudly. Epic grabbed a paper, quickly. She frowned as she looked down at it, her mouth twisting as she pronounced the words under her breath.
"Summon Smilodon?" she said, frowning.
"Yay!" said Betty.
"Er... thank you," said Epic. "What is it?"
"A summoning spell!" said Joan. "Those are fantastic!"
"Pfffft," said Fred. "Depends what you are summoning."
"What does it summon?" asked Epic. Everyone looked at the Guide who sighed theatrically.
"Say it again," he said, inspecting another freshly painted nail. "With feeling."
"Summon Smilodon!" said Epic.
Nothing happened. Then, a small, glowing ball of energy emerged from the depths of the hessian bag. It floated, bobbing gently in the air until it was hovering over Epic's head. She looked up at it in awe, her face bathed in the golden glow. With alarming speed, it disappeared into her chest making a ghastly sucking motion. Epic doubled over as if someone had punched her in the gut. She made a face like she was going to be sick. But she wasn't.
"What does that do?" she said, her voice strained, her body bent nearly double. The Guide frowned.
"Please don't experiment on my friends," said Fred, pleasantly.
"Hmm, sometimes it takes a while to sync up," he said. "But you have summoned a smilodon! You can change its name later, for summoning purposes." Epic straightened, cautiously.
"But there's nothing–"
A small spectral cat appeared in her arms. Epic squealed. The cat swivelled its wide, fluffy head around to look at her with an expression of surprise. "Oh, hello!" she said, a smile blooming on her face.
"Is it some sort of deformed tabby cat?" asked Alice. "With buck teeth."
"That," said the Guide, drawing himself up, "is a sabre-toothed tiger."
"A very small one," said Fred, noting the hunched back, the spots, and yes, the giant protruding canines.
"She's beautiful," said Epic, her eyes wide. The feeling seemed to be mutual.
"It will grow," said the Guide. "If you feed it levels and skill points."
"Her," said Epic.
"Whatever," said the Guide.
"What can she do?" asked Joan. "Besides...er being a cat?"
"No idea," said the Guide, pointing to his cover which proclaimed him to be incomplete. "Don't know, don't care. Anyway. See you next time losers." He disappeared. Betty shuffled off sideways.
Everyone crowded around Epic and her new pet.
"She really is cute," said Fred, tilting his head. The protruding teeth gave the beast a rather adorable, gawky look. He reached out his hand to pat the small tiger's head. She hissed. Fred retracted the hand. "In a way."
"I wonder how big she will grow?" mused Joan.
"What are you going to call her," asked Hugo, his eyes round. Epic considered, jiggling the cat up and down in her arms, which it seemed to enjoy.
"Hmm..."
"Is she purring?" asked Alice, staring at it suspiciously. The sabre-toothed tiger was making a noise like a faulty washer, all the while regarding them balefully through its golden, heavy-lidded eyes.
"I think so yes," said Epic. She looked different. Fred couldn't put his finger on it, but then realised he had never seen her smile before. It was nice.
"How about Mrs Diego?" said Hugo. "Oh wait, wait, Kirara! Sneeze-Barf!"
"Zabu?" said Alice.
"Thomas," said Fred, who was getting a bit tea-deprived. "Arnold?"
"Hmmm," said Epic. "I'll call her Stinkums. Because let's face it, she does pong a bit." They all breathed in.
"Yeeees," said Fred. "That is accurate. Unusual for a ghost cat. Not that I'm an expert."
"Still cute," said Hugo, determinedly.
"Yes," said Epic.
"Yes," said Fred. He stretched and looked about the shattered chamber. "I for one need a cup of tea. Time to Exit Through The Gift Shop. Whatever that means. Exit stage left, pursued by hair... come one, every exit a new beginning and all that. There can't actually be a Gift Shop? Can there?"
"What on earth would they sell?" said Epic, her arms full of gently vibrating, ghostly cat. "Oh goodness, I hope we don't have to walk back all the way we have come. And go on the boat again..."
"I doubt it," said Joan. "Look!"
A blinking neon exit sign had appeared to the side, above a stout wooden door. They traipsed through it in single file and found themselves in a brightly lit room that declared itself to be: The Gift Shop. Cheery, with floor to ceiling shelving, it was aggressively skeleton themed. A large bone chandelier lit the extremities. A small goblin wearing a shop keepers hat stood behind a scuffed wooden counter. The goblin had on a black pinny with little skeletons embroidered in white thread.
"Welcome! Welcome! Feel free to browse!"
"Hello, Betty!" said Fred. "Multiple gigs tonight?
"What?" said the goblin. "Who?"
"I do beg your pardon," said Fred, seeing immediately that this goblin lacked Betty's finesse. Although they might have been sisters. Or brothers. "I thought you were someone else."
He turned away quickly to admire the merchandise. He was soon diverted. Skeleton mugs, skeleton flasks, skeleton bubble bath and skeleton-themed sleeping bags fought for their attention. On one side was a full, human-sized skeleton on a stand. All its bones were labelled. Fred eyed it warily. In another corner there were stacks of posters. Fred pulled one out: Fight in Skeleton War! We need your bones!It depicted a stylised image of two proud skeletons holding spears and saluting.
"Okay," said Fred to himself. He put it back and drew out another. This one had an image of a skeleton in a pink tutu, carrying a star tipped wand and romping through a meadow. "Better," he said, approvingly.
"This place is weird," said Alice, from the other side of the shop.
"Look at the prices!" said Joan, outraged. She was examining a flask. The tag declared it to be a steal at three gold pieces.
"It is rather expensive," said Epic, juggling cat and price tag critically. "I'm not sure what call we would have for...er..."
"Skeleton pantaloons," said Hugo, holding up a pair to his legs.
"What a rip off," said Alice, trying on a necklace made of fingerbones.
"Got any tea?" Fred asked, leaning on the counter and addressing the small goblin. "Ginger biscuits? No? What a pity." The goblin shopkeeper shook their head. He or she did not look comfortable.
"Hey, look at this!" said Hugo. In front of a tall glass cabinet was an instrument, twin to the one they had won during the quest. A small placard declared it to be a "sax-o-bone", and on sale at two hundred gold coins. Hugo looked at it longingly and then down at the Trombone of Orpheus.
"Why did it have to be a trombone," groaned Hugo. "A trombone is not remotely sexy."
"That's insulting," said Fred, "to brass bands everywhere. Brass bands are sexy. I once knew this really good looking girl who played the–"
"A saxophone would have been better," said Hugo, ignoring him. "I could have worked with a saxophone. I like jazz. Lisa Simpson is cool. Sort of."
"I mean you can't play either," said Alice.
"Yet," said Hugo, testily. "I can't play either yet. But seriously name one famous trombone player!"
"You know you just named a cartoon right? You name one famous saxophone player–"
"I wonder why it is the Trombone of Orpheus?" mused Epic aloud. "I mean it should have been a lyre."
"More romantic," agreed Fred.
"I mean it must do something," said Joan. "I highly doubt it's just an instrument, especially so named." Hugo put the trombone to his lips.
"Not here!" said Joan. "Wait till... we are somewhere less...corpse-y."
"Why," said Alice. "Who was Orpheus?"
"Call it a hunch," said Joan.
"He was an ancient Greek musician who could charm the stones," said Epic. "He was one of the only Greek heroes to visit the underworld and return."
"Presumably sans trombone," said Fred.
"It was so awful," said Alice, "he had to leave it behind." Fred and Alice high-fived over a stack of skull candles. Hugo rolled his eyes.
"Come on," he said. "Just one toot. What harm can it do?"
"Oh whatever," said Joan. "I'm getting tired."
Behind the counter Fred saw the small goblin pull out a hardhat. They plopped it on their head as Hugo raised the trombone to his lips and puffed out his cheeks. He blew one short, tortured note. Every bone in the shop twitched.
"You break it you bought it!" shouted the goblin, crouching low.
"Okay, maybe you are right," Hugo said, lowering the instrument. The bones settled back into their original positions.
"Come on," said Joan. "Let's get back to the inn. I could do with a hot meal and some sleep. We can test out the trombone when we are somewhere nice and open. And private."
"Bye!" said Fred to the goblin, as they all shuffled towards the exit of the gift shop. It waved, seemingly relieved to see the back of them. The door leading out of the Gift Shop led to a small rocky passage. It was well lit and they could see daylight not too far ahead.
"What a strange day," said Hugo, as they walked. "I never thought–oops–"
Hugo stumbled and fell forwards. His arms pinwheeled for an instant but one hand caught on the strap of his bag. Unable to catch himself he hit his head on the wall. Hugo bounced off the wall with a horrible thudding sound. Before anyone could move or even cry out he collapsed onto the ground. Blood oozed from a deep cut on his skull. The Trombone of Orpheus clattered to the ground beside him.
"Hugo!" screamed Alice, rushing to his side.
"Joan!" cried Fred, "quick! Your healing spell!"
"Oh yes!"
[ding! Hugo Balls is dead -1 Life <3]
"Too late," said Fred, in dismay.
"Oh my god," said Alice, staring as Hugo's body disappeared into the rocky cavern floor. His equipment appeared in a neat pile with The Trombone of Orpheus balanced neatly on top. "Hugo!"
"Oof, that was unlucky," said Epic. Stinkums mewed in her arms.
Fred and Joan exchanged glances.
"Yes," said Joan. "Unlucky."
"Ug, he'll be fine," said Alice. "He has six lives left. I think. Ug. Hugo you idiot."
"How are we going to find him," said Fred. "If he respawns at the Meadow of Beginnings? Do we go there? What if he comes here while we are trekking that way?"
"We really should talk about this stuff," said Joan, tapping one finger on her cheek. "For future reference if anyone dies meet us at the closest inn. Or wherever we are spending the–"
"Oi!"
Everyone stiffened as an unfamiliar voice echoed down the passage.
"Who's that?" whispered Epic, her eyes wide.
"We know you are in there!"
"We can hear you talking like a bunch of noobs."
"What the–" said Alice.
"Might be a good time to try out that healing spell, dear," Fred muttered to Joan. He turned back to look at the Gift Shop door. It had vanished leaving behind smooth rock. "Only one way out."
"I don't think it's very powerful," she whispered back. "Probably takes ages to recharge...alright, alright don't glare. Um...what was it again... oh yes... Sana Sawya!"
"We can hear you!"
"We can hear you too," bellowed Fred, irritably.
The end of Joan's Knobbly Wizard Staff glowed gold. The whole party was momentarily bathed in a healing glow. The cuts on Fred's hands closed over, and he felt less tired – as if he had had a cup of tea and a biscuit. Everyone straightened and grinned.
"Nice!" said Alice.
"Better than nothing," said Joan.
"You can't stay in there forever," came the mocking voice.
"Urggg," said Joan.
"Are we ready?" Fred asked, his voice low.
"Sure," said Alice. "We just took on a skeleton horde and won!"
One by one they emerged, blinking into the sunlight.
The Knights of Cake were arrayed before them, mounted on their chargers with cheesecake pennants snapping in the breeze.
"Ah, I see you have all levelled up," said one of them. Fred couldn't see which one it was. Unlike last time, they all had their visors down. "How nice. I do enjoy freshly levelled noobs for breakfast."
"Tis only fair," said another. "You killed our glitch."
"Uh oh," said Epic, softly. Fred's hands tightened on his rolling pin.
The Knights of Cake drew their swords in unison and charged.
Death was quick but not painless.
Fred's second death was a strange thing. He floated in the void and contemplated whether or not it actually counted as death. Or was it just death of a kind? Was he really in his body anyway? What was consciousness? Did it matter? Did anything matter? Why did it hurt so much? Every single atom of his body felt like it was on fire. It was amazing he could think at all. Although. How could he even be sure it was him doing the thinking? Maybe he was just the ghost of a Fred who once was. A Fred who refused to die.
Just as he was about to start pondering the heavy stuff he was jerked, aching and screaming back into his body. Or a new body. A new body that was exactly the same as the last one, but whole and healed down to the last bump and bruise. He was pushed through a door. Tumbling and falling he screamed earthwards. He face-planted into The Meadow of Beginnings.
"Ouch," he mumbled into the sod.
Fred got up and dusted himself off. The sun was shining and his vision was partly obscured by a bucket. He wrapped his knuckle against the thin metal and instantly regretted it as his ears rang. Memory returned.
"My bucket!" he cried. He pulled it off and patted himself down. The rough homespun material of his shirt met his fingers. He was dressed in sack-cloth trousers with flimsy sandals. His bag contained a ladle and a teaspoon. In fact, he had everything he had started with. A tea-cup sized spider raced towards him.
"Not this time, my friend," he said gleefully. Fred squashed it disdainfully with his ladle.
[The Fredinator +1XP]
He stared down at his ichor smeared spoon. The ladle was just a plain ordinary soup ladle, no longer The Ladle of Destiny. Hadn't he given the ladle to Epic? He stood in the Meadow, frowning. Where was his rolling pin? His heart in his throat he checked his stats and then drew in a great sigh of relief. They were all still there. They hadn't been reset, just his damn wardrobe. He had lost one heart. Nine left.
Further musing was interrupted by the arrival of several more bodies, seemingly tipped from on high. Alice leapt to her feet her eyes blazing. She was naked. Fred averted his eyes modestly. He silently handed her his shirt.
"Mother fucking Knights of fucking Cake!" she screamed, grabbing it off him so hard his wrist twanged. "Thanks, Fred."
Joan sat up. She was back in her underwear looking as nymph-like as the day Fred had met her.
"Argggghhh" she yelled at the sky, leaping up and looking decidedly less nymph-like. It was still hot. Epic landed next to her. She promptly lay down in the grass and stared up at the sky without saying anything. But Fred wasn't having any of that. He strode over.
"Epic!" he said. "Where the hell did you get that flail? I thought we all respawned with our starting equipment? That is a nicething to bash spiders with."
She looked over at the weapon in her hand as if surprised to see it. She sat up. Her fingers brushed the sharp spikes of the nasty thing.
"Oh yes," she said. "I lost it somewhere last time. I mean, I didn't care. But it was part of my starting gear. Wait! Oh no!!" She scrambled to her feet patting her shoulders. "Stinkums! Summon Stinkums!" The tiny sabre-toothed lion appeared, and she slumped back down with the cat in her arms. "Thank goodness."
Stinkums purred and bumped her on the chin. Epic grinned.
A figure in a tatty wizard's robe came rushing over the grass.
"Guys! Guys! Guys!" They all tensed.
"Oh, its Hugo," said Epic, and went back to petting her cat.
"What happened? Why are you all here? What's going on? Alice put some knickers on, my god."
"The Knights of Cake," said Joan brushing off her knees. Her eyes were as hard as agate. "The fucking Knights of Cake!"
"I guess we really aren't in tutorial mode anymore," said Epic, dubiously.
"So what happened?" asked Hugo, anxiously.
"They were waiting for us as we came out of Skelly Gorge," said Fred. "We were butchered on the spot. Didn't stand a chance."
Joan growled, sounding a lot less like a human than usual. Stinkums turned her head towards her in surprise, the hair rising on the back of her neck.
"So," said Alice, brightly, "what are we going to do about it?"
"Do about what?" said Epic.
"The fucking Knights of Cake!"
Joan toyed with a strand of her hair, considering.
"Enough of this zen shit," she said. "I say we crush them."
"Yes!" chorused the party enthusiastically.
"Hmm," said Fred. "While I approve of crushing and bloodlust in general? We didn't do such a good job on the crushing last time? I mean Epic has a nice shiny flail but the rest of us have lost all our upgrades. If we go now–"
"It will take planning, of course," Joan's eye's narrowed. "But remember, all of us have bonuses. We can use that to our advantage. They caught us at a bad moment. On their terms." She spun around, making Hugo jump. "Your stuff is probably still inside the passage outside the gift shop at Skelly Gorge," she said. " So we can retrieve the Trombone of Orpheus at least."
"Ug, I can't believe we have to start over," said Alice.
"Not over," said Joan, "we have our skills and stats. It's just our equipment."
"What if they progress to the next dungeon before we are ready to crush them?" asked Fred. "They were all like, level 9 at least–"
"Stop being so reasonable!" Joan cried, stamping her foot. "If they level the dungeon we will crush them in the next, that's all!"
"Ah, so we are going full Count of Monte Cristo then?"
"I don't know who that is," said Joan. "But if he enjoyed pulverizing his enemies into little pieces and then grinding them into a paste underfoot, yes."
Fred stood up and stretched.
"Alright," he said. "Let's get started."
