Read Online Critical Failures II (Caverns and Creatures Book 2) by Robert Bevan - Free Book Online

zombies get their punches off before Scorn reaches you, then your ruling for the attacks of opportunity is sound.”
    Tony the Elf looked at the players. The players looked at each other.
    Scorn harrumphed. “That’s the most retar—“
    “Brilliant,” said Tony the Elf. “Ready to give it a try, Scorn?”
    “I’ll just attack one of the fucking zombies.”
    “Roll it.”
    Scorn rolled the die. “Two. What a big fucking surprise.”
    “That’s a miss,” said Tony the Elf.
    “No shit,” said Scorn. He glared at the elf at the opposite end of the table. “I might roll better if the nineteen side wasn’t three times as big as any of the others.”
    “Blow me, Scorn,” said the elf on the receiving end of Scorn’s glare. “Do you know how hard it was to carve all of these dice? I’ve only got two ranks of woodworking. If I ever go up another level, I’ll put some more skill points in it. But for now, this is what we’ve got.”
    Julian looked over the shoulder of the elf called Barry. According to the character sheet, Barry was playing an eighth level dwarven fighter. “So what level are you guys at in… is ‘the real world’ the appropriate phrase here?”
    “I’m a level four ranger,” said Tony the Elf. “Scorn is a third level wizard. Barry is a second level rogue. Dudley is a… what were you again, Dudley?”
    “I’ve got two levels of rogue and one level of fighter.”
    “That’s right. And Fritz,” Tony the Elf addressed the elf who had crafted the wooden dice. “What are you?”
    Fitz sighed. “I’m a second level bard.”
    The rest of the table pretended unconvincingly to be trying to hold in their laughter.
    “Fuck you guys,” said Fritz. “At least I can earn an income.”
    “Why are you all still at such low levels?” asked Julian.
    “There are a couple of reasons for that,” said Tony the Elf. “The primary reason is that fighting monsters is dangerous. The other reason… once you start killing things, it gets in your head. I’ve seen good men turn bad.”
    “You mean people from Earth?”
    “Yeah. The folks you see in here aren’t everyone who Mordred sent over. Some folks really like it here. They go native. There’s a few people scattered around town doing their own thing. They don’t like the idea of hanging out drinking in a tavern all day and night. They get apprentice jobs making horseshoes or blankets or whatever. The blacksmith’s assistant right up the road. He’s one of us.”
    “What’s so bad about being a blacksmith’s assistant?”
    “Nothing. I wasn’t finished though. There’s a group that call themselves The Four Horsemen.” The players looked at one another in silent repugnance. “Your friends met a few of them tonight.”
    “What do they do?”
    “Whatever the hell they want,” said Scorn. He lifted the bandana from his forehead to reveal a long scar across his right temple. “I got this for refusing to surrender the last chicken wing on the table.”
    “It was a hard decision to make,” said Tony the Elf. “But we kicked him out. His friends followed.”
    “Why was that a hard decision?” asked Julian. “It seems perfectly reasonable to me.”
    “They’re just kids. Like, middle school age. I mean, think of the shittiest kid you ever met. Would you feel comfortable just abandoning him in the middle of a foreign city?”
    “No, but –”
    “Well as it turned out,” Tony the Elf continued. “We should have been more afraid for the city than for those little bastards. This is all just one big party for them. They think they’re invincible, and so far no one has been able to prove otherwise.”
    “Have you tried talking to them?”
    “Ha!” said Scorn. “Have you ever tried to reason with a middle-schooler? Do I have to remind you that I was stabbed in the face over a piece of chicken?”
    “They’re only getting worse,” said Tony the Elf. “They all but worship Mordred, and he treats them like fucking pets.