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

lost down there then?” asked Redthorne.
The White Troll looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Er. Well. I think a half-elf escaped down here once. A thief if I recall correctly.”
Dreth sighed. “So 'No One who has ventured into it' consists of one thief, probably running away from Kevin in a feeding frenzy?”
Mud sniffed. “We trolls aren't renowned for keeping records you know. Anyway, you asked me to show you the way, there you are. Have a good time.” He turned away and marched off back towards the Troll Caverns in a huff.
“I can cast a light spell,” said Redthorne, once he had gone.
“No need,” said Dreth. He held out a hand and looked at Percy, who dug around in the sack and pulled forth a couple of torches.
“A light...” Percy looked around as column of fire roared up from the floor next to him. “Oh, that's handy,” he said, He plunged the torches into it, igniting them just as the flames died down to reveal a figure.
“A demon!” said Redthorne, stepping backwards and raising his hands.
“Oh, it's only an imp. What do you want short stuff?” asked Cuthbert.
“I’m here to stop you.” The imp, a knee high red creature with a traditional demonic tail, stood self-importantly in their path. The circle of fire guttered out around him.
“Ha! Even zombies can take imps out!” Percy stepped forward.
“Wait! I command you!” The imp held out a hand.
“What’s the holdup here?” asked Dreth. “What do you want imp?”
“Are you Dreth?” asked the small devil.
“What’s it to you?”
“I’m here on behalf of the Management. You are hereby ordered to desist from your unauthorized movements and return to your posts. Failure to do so will have...” the imp paused for dramatic effect. “Consequences.”
Cuthbert looked at Percy. “Isn't that a sort of board game?” he asked.

The Dark

“You’ve heard my warning,” the imp crossed its arms and stared at them haughtily. “I await your response minions.”
“I'll minion you, you little...” Cuthbert stepped forward, but Dreth put a hand on his shoulder and restrained him.
“Come now Cuthbert; let’s not get overly excited,” Dreth said in a slow voice. He turned to the imp. “May we discuss this for a few moments in private please sir?”
The little devil sniffed imperiously. “I suppose I can wait for a few minutes. Hurry up then.”
“Of course,” Dreth replied. Signaling Redthorne to follow, and pulling Cuthbert along with him, he moved a little way down the corridor. Percy and Sprat stayed with the imp.
“What are you doing?” hissed Cuthbert. “I can take that little blabbermouth!”
“I’m aware of that”, soothed Dreth. “However, here’s a chance to gain some information about our mysterious DM person, as well as get us a canary.”
Cuthbert thought about it for a moment. “Well, okay, but I get to eat the canary.”
Dreth rolled his eyes. He turned to Redthorne. Pulling the wizard and zombie close in a huddle, he spoke in a low voice. “Let's see what you can do then wizard. Here’s the plan...”


~ * ~


“All I’m saying is that we zombies have been down-trodden long enough. It’s about time we were recognized for the vital work we do...”
The imp was tapping his foot as Percy droned on at him when the others returned. He glared at Percy until the zombie shut up, and then turned to Dreth. “Well? What’s your response? I can't hang about here all day you know!”
Dreth stepped forward. “Well, it's like this you see... NOW!!”
The imp squealed as the guardian leapt at him and pinned him to the floor as the wizard raised his hands and uttered a short spell, the words of Power booming around the corridor. A few moments later there was a brief flash of light around the imp, and the creature screamed.
Redthorne nodded at Dreth, who stood up, dusting his hands. The imp bawled a stream of obscenities, but remained still, frozen in place by the wizard’s spell.
“Now we’ll see who’s in charge,” he said with satisfaction. “My wizard friend here has cast a spell on you. You won’t be able to move or teleport until he lifts it. So it’s in your best interests to co-operate. We’ll start with an easy one: Who do you work for?”
“Not saying! Let me go! You’ll be sorry when He hears about this!” The imp farted. A protest that sent the wizard gagging for air, but had no effect on the others.
Dreth delivered a vicious kick to the imps face, imploding several teeth. “Who is He? Tell us!”
“Owowowowoowow! You’ll pay for that I swear!”
Percy squatted down next to the figure and poked the Halfling’s foot into its eye. “Told you not to mess with us zombies didn't I? Look where you are now.” He shook his head sadly.
“You zombies are getting above your station! When I get back I’m going to ask for a purge, get a new lot in and aaaaahhhahhahahahhh!”
“That's enough Percy, I want to extract the fingernails before we break his fingers.” Dreth stepped up and pulled the undead away.
“Oh, you’re in so much trouble,” groaned the imp.
“You know,” Dreth looked down at the red figure, “I’ve heard that you imps are very proud of your tails. You certainly have a long and sleek one. It would be a pity if you were to have an 'accident,' and it was somehow cut slowly away with my sword.”
“Oh no. No, you wouldn't! Do you know how many centuries it took me to grow that?”
Dreth reached for his blade. “Of course, all you have to do is give us a little information.” He looked at the imp, who tried to return his gaze before finding that Dreth was remarkably good at it and giving up.
“Oh very well. But you have to promise to let me go when I tell you what you want to know.”
“Of course,” said Dreth smoothly.
“Fine. The Management oversees the dungeon. Servant imps and other minions collect the treasure left behind by adventurers, the stuff that isn't kept by the guardians of course.”
“And who is the Management?”
“I don't know!! They just appear as shadowy figures to me! Look, I’m just an imp okay? Not exactly high up in the hierarchy.”
Dreth regarded him for a moment and then sighed. “Okay then.”
“You don't believe him surely?” asked Redthorne. “He is a devil, albeit a minor one, the species is not renowned for telling the truth.”
Dreth stood up. “The problem is, he’ll just lie about everything, and how are we to know what’s real and what isn't?”
“So, you’ll let me go now?” asked the imp.
Dreth nodded at Cuthbert, who came forward with a long coil of thin rope retrieved from Dreth's bag. The zombie started to tie it around the imp's neck, cutting off a piece to secure his arms and tail behind his back.
“Hey! What's going on? You said you would release me!” the imp complained as Cuthbert rolled him around on the floor.
“Yes, I lied,” responded Dreth. “Is he secure Cuthbert?”
The zombie tested the bonds. “He won't get out easily.”
Dreth spoke to the imp again. “Now, my good friend the wizard is going to remove the paralysis. You still won't be able to teleport, so don't try anything funny.”
“And here is me planning to nip off for a quick drink down the bar,” the imp said dryly. Sprat poked him in the eye, and the little demon hissed at him.
Redthorne moved his hands about above the creature, and the imps legs began to waggle furiously.
“What's your name imp?” asked Dreth.
“Ichabod.”
“Well Ichabod,” Dreth picked the imp up with one hand as he spoke. “We just need one more thing from you.”
“What's that?”
“We require a scout. Be a good fellow and see if anything is waiting for us down there will you?” So saying, Dreth threw the screaming imp down the tunnel and into The Dark. As soon as he entered the gloomy portal he disappeared from view, and his cries were abruptly cut off.
“Oooh, that's not a good sign,” said Cuthbert.
They waited. After a moment the rope moved and a minute later started to pull away. “I feel like I’m fishing. I used to like fishing when I was alive.” Cuthbert frowned as he let the line slip through his hands. “At least, I think so.”
Dreth waited for another minute, watching as the rope slowly moved into the tunnel. “Well, whatever’s in there it doesn't seem to be waiting at the entrance. Let's go.” He pushed Percy forward and they followed him down.
“I can't see anything!” Percy.
“What happened to the torches? Are they still on?” Dreth squinted in the absolute blackness that had enveloped them.
“Let's see.” A pause. “Arg! Yes, burning away.” Percy again.
“Where are you Sprat? Don't wander off.”
“'m here pa.”
“It seems this area nullifies light,” came Redthornes' voice. “Let me try a spell.” There was a moment of incantation followed by nothing. “Evidently it suppresses magical illumination as well.”
“The imp’s stopped moving.” Cuthbert's voice came from just ahead of Dreth.
“Give the rope a tug,” said Dreth.
There was a distant yell. “Still alive then. Go on. Percy, lead the way.”
“Don't see why it has to be me up front all the time,” grumbled Percy. “Let's send the kid first.”
“Hey! That’s my son you’re talking about!”
“It's not your real son. You just put him together from spare parts. He has one of my old hands even. You never did it with anyone.”
“Ha! Shows how much you know,” Cuthbert's voice oozed smugness as they felt their way along a narrow passage.
“You never!”
“Did so! Remember Emmy?”
“Her??? Didn't that ranger bash her skull in?”
“Yes, thank you for reminding me about that. Anyway, we did 'the dance' in the lower tomb.”
“Are they talking about what I think they’re talking about?” asked Redthorne of Dreth.
“Who knows?” said Dreth. “However, I don't recommend trying to find out.”
“The social life of zombies seems to be more complex than I realized,” mulled the wizard. “Not that I’d thought about the subject much. At all in fact.”
Percy and Cuthbert were still talking, their voices echoing through the dark corridor.
“That bitch! She told me she was frigid!”
“What can I say, some zombies...” Cuthbert was cut off from a voice ahead.
“Finally you get here.”
“Is that you Ichabod?” asked Percy, bumping into Cuthbert, who had stopped abruptly.
“No, I’m the tooth fairy with a back-payment.”
“What are you waiting for imp?” Dreth asked.
“Do they give back payment?”
“I banged my head on something on the wall. I thought I would wait until you kind gentlemen came along