Tired of Death, Neil Hartley [best classic books to read TXT] 📗

backtracked and taken another route in the hopes of finding their friend. They hadn’t found the thief, but they had narrowly avoided two spiked pits, one swinging axe, a fireball activated by a pressure pad, and three tripwires. They were still no nearer to finding their companion, and tempers were beginning to fray.
“Look, of course it's a trap. The whole place is one giant trap.” Redthorne rubbed at his forehead in annoyance. “I admit I made a mistake hiring that worthless thief, or I should have at least hired two. Still, he’s gone now, and I say we push ahead with our mission. Unless you are going to renege on your agreements?” The mage raised his staff in a threatening gesture.
“Nom does not break his sworn oath!” declared the Cleric.
“Renege is what?” said the Barbarian.
“Just move forward,” sighed Redthorne. “Slowly!”
The three set off down the corridor, which had a number of shadowy alcoves along the walls, containing nothing they could detect. They traversed the tunnel with no mishaps, much to their relief, and emerged into a large dark cavern, the use of which was not apparent.
There was a slight noise, though it wasn’t possible to identify where it originated from, as the whole place seemed to echo. The three stepped into defensive formation, with Crug in front, his enormous sword raised high. Nom clutched the Orb of his god, Grom, and muttered a blessing, whilst Redthorne held his staff and readied magic.
A skittering noise came from the left. Crug swung round as a large black spider appeared out of the dark and lunged towards him. Two more of the creatures materialized from the right and Redthorne turned to face those, staff blazing white in his hands. More movement could be made out in the shadows.
Behind them, from the tunnel they had just emerged from, came another sound. Nom turned to see a zombie, arms outstretched, lurching towards them.
“Undead to the rear!” he cried, raising his orb.
“Deal with them then! We’ll take the arachnids,” the wizard commanded, throwing white fire at a giant Black Widow.
“I kill spider!” Crug said, covered in green gunk. The remains of a greater tarantula lay on the floor next to his feet.
Nom faced the zombie and raised his Orb. He cast his mind out to the Might of his god, and reached for the Power. The mighty deity Grom responded, sending the force of Good through his vassal and towards the undead in an invisible wave of energy. The creature made a hissing sound and staggered backwards as the magic impacted.
“My thanks to my Lord,” muttered Nom and, taking his mace in hand, strode forward to finish the foul beast, which was now fleeing up the passage.
The wizard shouted something behind him, but Nom was intent on his prey, and ignored the warning. The zombie lurched around a corner into an alcove and cowered against the wall as the Cleric approached.
“Die creature of evil!” Nom raised his mace of Smiting and brought it down upon the creatures’ skull.
Or tried to. Something restrained him. He looked up and saw a thin hand, pale skin barely covering the bone, gripping the shaft of his raised weapon.
A dry voice whispered next to his ear. “Perhapsss not.” Nom straightened as sharp claws dug into his back, just below his armor. He screamed in pain as cold fingers wrapped around the base of his spine, severing all control to the lower part of his body. He pitched forward, to be caught by the zombie he’d so recently cornered.
“Time for the zombies to fight back Cleric,” it hissed in his face, blowing fetid breath over him.
There was a wet sound, and Nom felt a cold sensation along his back as his spine was forcibly wrenched from his flesh. The restraints on his armor snapped and it fell to the floor with a dull clang. The tearing sound was loud in his ears now, and with the last moments of his life Nom saw his corpse fall forward, a long bloody hole where his backbone had been, terminating at a ragged tear where his head had been twisted away from the neck.
Blood spread outwards in a dark pool on the stone floor, and Nom’s spirit ascended to join his god.

~ * ~

“You cut it fine is all I’m saying,” Cuthbert complained as they walked along. “Another second and I’d have just been a load of rotting breakfast.”
“You were never in any danger. That medallion I gave you warded off the Cleric’s power didn’t it?”
“Maybe so,” Cuthbert looked down at the dull black necklace hanging around his rotten neck. “But it still hurt.”
“Well here then, you deserve this one.” Dreth handed over the Cleric’s head, now permanently etched into a look of horrified surprise. The still attached spinal column dripped blood and muscle tissue.
“Oh nice! I do like a good lollipop.” Cuthbert took the remains and licked at the still dripping backbone. “Yummy.”
They wandered back along the dark corridors to where Percy was waiting.

~ * ~

“Where are they now then?” asked Percy, looking jealously at Cuthbert as he savored the tongue of the holy man.
“The spiders pushed them back, they’re resting just outside the Troll caverns.” Dreth arranged his cloak about him so that it looked the most ominous. “We still need to separate them before they leave our territory completely.”
“Why not just rush them?” Cuthbert asked, waving Nom’s jawbone about. “Oooh! A gold tooth! I always wanted a gold tooth!” He wrestled with the jaw, pulling at the item in question.
“I suppose we could,” Dreth considered it. “We should be able to take them easily enough now the Cleric’s out of the way. We need to act quickly though, if they wander into the trolls we’ll have a hard time getting the mage alive.”
“I dunno,” said Percy. “That wizard seems to be pretty powerful. I think we should push them into the goblins. Then we can take the wizard whilst the Barbarian is fighting them. We know the tunnels in that area, and the goblins are scared of you.”
Dreth looked up in surprise at this unusually bright idea from Percy. “Not a bad choice, though we aren’t on the best terms with the Goblin King if you remember.”
“Pah! Goblins. I can’t be held responsible if I accidentally eat one of them can I?” Percy looked disgusted.
“Maybe so, but you could have checked that it wasn’t their princess first,” Dreth said.
“Look at me! I have a gold tooth!” Cuthbert danced around grinning, his new denture forced into a gap in his gums.
“Just concentrate on the problem at hand please, or I’ll give your lollipop to Percy.”
“Bah, you were never fun,” the zombie cradled the Clerics’ head and sat down. “Why don’t we get the spiders to attack them, and take the wizard in the confusion? Worked for this one,” he patted his toy.
“How would we get them back into the spider’s lair?” said Dreth. “They know it’s there now. Besides, the spiders lost quite a few of their kind in the fight, I doubt they would go for it.”
“We could offer the Barbarian to them,” suggested Cuthbert, trying to see his reflection in an old helmet.
“No fair! You got the Cleric!” protested Percy. “The Barbarian is mine!”
Cuthbert grinned a gold tinted grin and held the noggin close. Dreth shook his head and considered the options. “We may have to go with the goblins, I’d prefer to lure them into the troll caverns, but I can’t think of any way to do that.” He sat down on his chair and then jumped slightly as a piece of parchment slid under the door.
“What’s that then?” asked Percy.
“How should I know? I’ve never had anyone slip anything under the door before.” Dreth thought a moment. “Well, except for a thief one time. Anyway, give it too me.” He waggled his fingers.
“Yes your highness,” Cuthbert said sarcastically, picking up the paper and handing it to Dreth, who was silent for a minute as he read the spidery script.
“So?” Asked the zombies in unison, when he finally put the parchment down. Dreth passed it back to Cuthbert, who squinted at it in the gloom.
“What’s it say?” said Percy, who had forgotten how to read. He peered over Cuthbert’s shoulder as his friend read the notice out loud, tracing the text with a finger.

Deceased and Desist Order.

It is come to our notice that ‘Dreth’, subsection 3b, area 4 (undead), designation: Undead Way Guardian (advanced level); henceforth referred to as ‘The Resident’, has been engaged in un-authorized activities. To wit: Venturing outside allotted dungeon domain (undead).

Furthermore: It has come to our attention that the Resident’s lair has been left unattended for unacceptable periods of time, and that the Resident has engaged and distracted several zombies, designation: Guardians (Fodder level), from their assigned patrol areas.

Such activity is in direct breach of agreed protocols and directly contravenes the contractual duties of the Resident.

This order is the first and only warning, as specified in sub-section 4,509, paragraph 52, lines 309-466, for the Resident to return to Dungeon Guardian (advanced level) duties. Failure to abide by the terms of the contract will result in disciplinary agents being dispatched.

Thank-you for your attention. Have a nice day.

DM.

“Fodder level is it?” muttered Percy. “Cheeky buggers. I’m a professional I am. That’s downright degrading.”
“Who’s DM?” asked Cuthbert, passing the note back to Dreth.
Dreth shrugged. “No idea, don’t care.” He scrunched the notice into a ball and threw it on the floor.
“Do you still have this contract?” Cuthbert said, as Percy wandered off grumbling to himself.
Dreth scratched his head. “I don’t think so. I signed it before… before I became like this. After the wizard changed me I didn’t really think about it.”
“So you’re going to stay here now then?” inquired Percy, who had started rummaging through a pile of old equipment in the corner. “Hey! Look! I found a wand!” He held up a long stick.
“Let me see that,” Dreth said. He examined the artifact closely for a moment. “Hmmm, a wand of illusion, still a couple of charges left.” He rubbed his chin. “I think I have an idea…”

~ * ~

“Are you listening to me warrior?” Redthorne poked the barbarian with his staff.
“Crug hear. Crug no like. Cleric dead for sure. Just…” the fighter counted on his fingers for a moment, “two of us now. Not good. This place bad.”
The mage leaned back against the wall of the alcove they had taken refuge in after the spider fight. “Yes, I know. However we’re blocked off from the exit. Big dropping slab remember? We have no choice but to push on.” He consulted a piece of parchment. “I think I