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Glenn sat on the wagon bench next to Blizz. The old half-goblin was driving the horse team of the trailing wagon. It, like the two others ahead of them, was more heavily laden, and moving slower. Guard Captain Nickson and Derek were riding their mounts ahead of the poor excuse for a caravan. Mardin, on his mule, trailed the wagons, watching the road behind.
Ron drove lead wagon, and Kirby sat next to the middle wagon’s driver. The zero-rank hireling remained jittery, even though the manticore’s carcass was an hour behind. A competent adventurer’s nearby presence was supposed to bolster the driver’s confidence. Glenn didn’t think it was likely to work.
Glenn was trying to decide if Yonn, and the other surviving man-at-arms under Captain Nickson named Slarg, had maneuvered their mounts between the second and third wagons because they were still nervous. Or to maybe catch a glimpse of Stephi inside the covered wagon.
He also wondered if men-at-arms in the RPG world served as Red Shirts. If they did, Yonn and Slarg seemed aware of their peril. Mardin, not so much. The gnome recalled Derek saying, “Men-at-arms added targets and soaked up damage.”
Whatever the case, the gnome knew the mounted men-at-arms’ position frustrated Blizz’s similar viewing efforts.
Truth be told, Glenn didn’t mind seeing Stephi. Even pint-sized, it was an understatement to say she remained easy on the eyes. What the half-goblin driver and the men-at-arms probably hadn’t figured on was that Stephi slept in her natural leaf and bark attire. They weren’t going to catch any flashes of her naked body.
Glenn was pretty sure he wasn’t projecting what might be his desire on the two men. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. To switch thoughts, and alleviate the feeling that they should expect another Wandering Creatures Encounter, he asked Blizz, “Besides that lich that passed us in the Dark Heart Swamp, was that manticore the nastiest creature you ever came across?”
Blizz took a moment, pursing his lips, reflecting on the memory that still gave Glenn nightmares.
Finally the half-goblin shook his head. “Naw, Jax. Can’t say it is.” The animal handler flashed a pointy-toothed grin at the gnome. “Not that a manticore ain’t nothing that won’t make the average fella dampen his trousers, mind you.”
It was Glenn’s turn to flash a grin. “That makes us both above average.”
After a quirked eyebrow and a half-second hesitation, Blizz released a hissing snicker. “True, Mr. Jax. True. But you was out there with your club and I was sheltering under the wagon.”
“True,” Glenn agreed. “But you helped me with Spots and Four Banger. We each have our skills and talents.”
Blizz licked his teeth and nodded agreement. “That’s why I don’t hire out to fight.”
The gnome and half-goblin rode in silence for a few minutes, until the animal handler spit onto the side of the road. “Trolls, now they’re plenty fierce, but the worst I saw was a big ol’ mountain giant.” Blizz tipped his head up. “Stood tall as two ogres.”
Glenn’s eyes widened. “While working as a hireling?”
“Yep, that’s back when hired outta Riven Rock.”
“What happened?”
“That adventuring party took him down. The fire wizard that’d hired me finished the mountain giant off with what he called a Flame Lance Spell.” Blizz squinted his eyes. “Well, it took three of them spells, plus the cleric’s mace and the warrior’s bastard sword.”
Blizz scratched his chin and spit over the side again. “That mountain giant was pretty mighty. Stomped on the fighter, killing him good. And did a number of the cleric’s magical armor. Pret-near broke every bone in that cleric’s body.”
“But they won,” Glenn said.
“Yeah,” Blizz said. “You and Lysine can’t hold a candle to how that cleric could heal up broken bodies, including himself’s. Didn’t do no good, though.”
The gnome healer’s eyes widened. “What happened? A second giant—or a troll?”
“Naw. An Apollo cleric took him on a day later.
“And a paladin ran his sword clean through the fire wizard who’d hired me.” He frowned. “Well, it was more bloody than clean, but you gets my point.”
“What’d you do?” Glenn asked.
“Well, I cut loose the dead fighter Bristle’d been toting.” He shrugged. “Happened about fifty miles to the west of here. The paladin and Apollo cleric didn’t bury the fighter, or the wizard or cleric.”
“They hired you?”
“Sure did. My previous employer’d been talking on getting the fighter revived, but I don’t think his heart was in it. Leaning more toward some sort of Reincarnation Spell,’cause it’d cost less coin.”
That reminded Glenn of his party discussing options after the ogre’d killed Kim.
Their wagon was falling behind, so Blizz flicked the reins to urge the plodding horse team on.
“Bristle carried the dead cleric and warrior’s armor and weapons,” Blizz said. “All the way to Three Hills City. Stayed hiring out of there after that. Lot nicer place than Riven Rock.”
Something about Blizz’s tale seemed odd to Glenn. “You didn’t mention any names, Blizz.”
“Nope,” Blizz replied. “Never do.”
“Why not?” Glenn asked, thinking that being able to offer references would help the animal handler get hired, especially since he was a half-goblin.
Blizz squinted one eye, appraising the gnome healer. “Your friend, Mr. Gurk, says you’re a good fella. Brave and loyal and all, but sorta hinted you’re a little naive on some things.” Blizz quickly added. “Nothing wrong with that—kind of a gnome trait, ya know.”
Glenn clenched his teeth. It was true. He didn’t know a lot about Monsters, Maces and Magic and the RPG world it’d formed. But he was learning.
“See,” Blizz continued, “adventuring parties got secrets. Spells they can use, magics they got in their weapons, dungeons they ain’t finished off and might come back to someday.”
Glenn said, “Ahhh,” and nodded his head slowly. That meant any of his party’s secrets were safe with Blizz. “Is that pretty standard among henchmen and hirelings?”
“Nope, it ain’t. Least ways not so much in Three Hills City.” He gave a half grin. “You all were smart in hiring me.”
“But it’s that way in Riven Rock?”
“For folks like me that’s smart,” Blizz replied. “Folks there in Riven Rock ain’t so, uumm, nice, as they are in Three Hills City.”
Glenn thought back to the time he, Kirby and Stephi got jumped by a gang of street thugs in Three Hills City. And the fact that Ron insisted everyone always travel in pairs...
“You mind sharing some of your knowledge with this gnome?” Glenn asked. At first he offered a toothy smile. Then his eyes became serious. “So I don’t get mugged, or knifed in the back?”
“That’s rightly smart of you, Mr. Jax.”
The bandy-legged animal handler both informed and entertained Glenn through colorful recollections of persons and places, interspersed with highlights of various things he’d witnessed. Most of those involved violence.
The pair, half-goblin animal handler and gnome healer, kept at it a couple hours, until Derek shouted, “Got a lone man on foot, approaching from ahead, on the right.”