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Glenn waited, kneeling down in the shadow of the sturdy shack. The moon wasn’t up, but there was still dusk’s light, and a clear sky began showing its array of twinkling stars. Kirby was waiting on the other side of the shack.
Guard Captain Nickson was a noisy eater, chewing something crunchy and smacking his lips. Was it the guard captain’s last meal? Glenn wondered what he would want for his last meal. Certainly something better than what Nibber left behind for Nickson.
The five minutes waiting seemed like fifty. In the real world, Glenn would’ve never contemplated, then followed through with a killing—well, maybe, if his family were in danger. But he’d use a pistol or shotgun. Not a cudgel. His Neutral Gray alignment seemed to ease the decision. The fact that he was an adventurer, and had done some killing already, of both humans and monsters, made it feel like a reasonable course of action. How would all of this violence affect him when he got back to the real world?
Glenn shook it off. He had to survive to get back to the real world. If he didn’t follow through with the plan? Didn’t fight? Everyone—Stephi, Kirby, Ron, and even Derek, would be dead, and none of them would get home. It’d even end Kim’s slim chance.
Guard Captain Nickson began grumbling to himself. What he said wasn’t clear.
Time was up. Glenn wanted to unsling his shield and have his cudgel ready. But that wasn’t part of the plan. The goal was to throw the guard captain mentally off balance, give Kirby a shot at a Stealth Attack.
Glenn hustled out onto the street and moved about five yards away from the sturdy shack’s door. That placed him almost a whole shack away. Nobody was on the street. It was almost like cockroaches, but in the opposite way. At night, in the dark, they came out and were everywhere. Flick on the lights, and they scattered for cover. In the shantytown, in the day folks were out and about. Darkness, and the residents scattered for the cover of their hovels.
The door creaked open and Nickson stepped out. Glenn began walking forward before the guard captain pulled the door closed. When the guard captain caught sight of someone his hand went to his sword’s grip.
“Hey,” Glenn said, “what’re you doing here?”
“Jax?” the guard captain asked, squinting in the darkness.
Something alerted Nickson of impending danger. Maybe it was experience, or a sixth sense. Maybe Glenn didn’t play his part well enough, or Kirby’s movement wasn’t silent enough. Failed his Stealth Approach Roll?
The guard captain spun and backed away, into the middle of the street, foiling Kirby’s approach.
The jig was up, since Kirby was around the corner, cutlass in hand.
“Ho,” Nickson said, drawing his sword from its scabbard. A malicious grin creased his weather-worn face. “You two aim to kill me? A lowly half-goblin thief and pathetic gnome healer?”
Glenn didn’t know what to say. He prepared his shield and cudgel. They’d do his talking.
“We’re going to deliver your head to Veneada,” Kirby said, a sneer in his voice, louder than Glenn thought necessary. “Since there’s a price on it.”
“What? How do you—”
Nickson didn’t bother to finish, having to duck a dart Kirby threw left-handed.
If Kirby failed to take Nickson down with a Stealth Attack, the backup plan was to attack him from both sides, and keep him off balance.
The guard captain, however, wasn’t playing along. Even as Kirby closed, Nickson charged the half-goblin. The pair clashed and separated before Glenn reached them.
Nickson had a shallow thigh wound. Kirby’d come off worse, with a gash along the side of his head, just above the ear. Glenn charged in, swung his cudgel and missed. The gnome pressed his attack, but the guard captain got a kick past the healer’s wooden shield and sent his shorter foe stumbling back.
Kirby came in again, his cutlass biting into chain mail instead of flesh. Nickson countered with a sword thrust that nearly skewered Kirby. The nimble thief danced aside, avoiding the killing blow by a fraction of a second.
Glenn realized they were playing into the guard captain’s hand. He had superior armor and weapon skills, and they weren’t using their two-on-one advantage. This part of Riven Rock wasn’t like Three Hills City, with city guardsmen on regular patrol. No one was going to interfere.
Instead of charging in, the gnome shuffled forward, shield interposed, and cudgel cocked back, ready.
“Thinking of running, are ya?” Kirby taunted. “I see it in your eyes.”
“Cut like that,” Nickson countered. “You’ll bleed out soon enough. Then it’ll be just me and the gnome.”
“Nahh, dude. I’m just getting—” Midsentence, Kirby rushed in.
Glenn closed in the same instant and simply whaled away. Grunts and curses said Kirby was going at the guard captain with all he had. Glenn got in two good hits against the guard captain’s back before his friend dropped to the hard ground. Nickson yanked his sword’s tip from the mortally wounded half-goblin’s gut and spun to face the persistent gnome.
Nickson hadn’t come away unscathed. His cheek had been slit open so that molars showed through the wound. Glenn didn’t know what rank the guard captain was, but he’d taken at least three cutlass hits from Kirby and two cudgel strikes from Glenn. That had to be fifteen hit points dealt to him. If he was second rank, he had to have only a few hit points left. If he was third rank, a lot more. Glenn had a lot of hit points himself, and could heal up to twice his total hit points inflicted by his foe. He could win this.
But Kirby lay on the ground, unmoving. Maybe he was already dead—if he wasn’t, he only had a few rounds before he was. Time was against Glenn. Nickson knew that.
The casual defensive stance said as much.
Glenn made a decision. It was going to be all or nothing. Both he and Kirby would survive, or neither would. Mumbling spell words under his breath, he raised his shield and charged at, then past the guard captain. He stopped above his friend, knelt down and completed his Minor Heal Draw Spell, taking on all of Kirby’s wounds.
The appearance of the head, shoulder and gut wounds were painful, but the gnome healer had suffered worse. And he had enough hit points to remain conscious, to keep his shield between the attacking guard captain and himself, and his friend.
Still on his knees, Glenn attempted an attack, and failed. The guard captain batted the gnome healer’s shield aside, and hacked down with his long sword.
Glenn took it in the shoulder. He nearly passed out before muttering the words to trigger his Minor Heal Draw upon himself. Before he collapsed, he saw Kirby, healed and refreshed, roll away and spring to his feet, cutlass in hand.
“Round Two, dude.”
The immense pain nearly caused the gnome healer to pass out, but he managed to keep his eyes open and a firm grip on his cudgel as the healing magic mended the wounds he’d taken upon himself.
Uninterested in taking on a fresh and revived assailant, the guard captain turned and ran. The move initially caught Kirby by surprise. It might’ve been a prudent tactic for the guard captain to put distance between himself and the recovering gnome healer in order to deal with one foe at a time. But he didn’t turn to fight. Instead he was brought down from behind by the nimble thief.
The man died with a dart plunged through his left eye and into his panicked brain.
The gnome healer gathered his shield and trotted up to the thief who stood over their dead foe.
“What do we do now?” Glenn asked his friend in a hushed voice. “We can’t just leave the body here.”
“Sure we can, dude. Who’s gonna care?” Kirby looked around, and then squatted down and began searching the dead man’s pockets. “Too dark for any humans to get a good look at us anyway.”
Glenn figured his friend was probably right. Dusk in the shantytown quickly transitioned to shadowy darkness. Then he recalled something and squatted down next to his friend. “Nibber will be back.” Glenn pointed to the body. “He knew that Nickson knew something important, and thought it was enough to get out from under whatever he’d done.”
“Yeah,” Kirby said. “Sounded like he was risking his neck.”
Glenn peered at the body, then around it. “Nickson’s soul is still attached to it, right?”
“For three days,” Kirby confirmed.
“Maybe this Vaneada person can find a cleric or witch or someone that can talk to his ghost.”
The half-goblin’s yellow eyes widened. “Right, dude. And this backstabbing asshole’ll snitch on us in a second.”
Glenn didn’t bother to say that was already the guard captain’s plan.
“A tethered soul makes it easier, but all they really need is the body.” The thief looked around again. “I don’t know any good place to dump a body in this dried-out city.”
“You look for those things?” Glenn asked.
“Sure. Know six good ones in Three Hills City.”
The gnome leaned back from his friend.
“I’m a thief, dude.” Putting the coins he’d taken into his own pocket, the half-goblin hissed in frustration. “Anyplace will be better than leaving it here.”
Glenn wondered if bodies were just left to rot. Maybe someone would push them to the side or toss them over a fence. Not like a decaying corpse would add much to the shantytown’s horrendous odor. That brought an idea to mind.
The gnome healer slipped his cudgel into its belt loop. “I know a place.”