Tunnel Rat

Onyx looked up at the huge stone tower, topped with a minaret, "So this is the tower of the infamous Master of Snails? What a fixer-upper. Needs a new coat of paint, that minaret is hopelessly out of style, and absolutely no hint of a veranda to sip tea and discuss flower arranging. Why, he doesn't even have a few snails doing his gardens, and they look like a junk pile."

Zander looked at the large pit filled with trash, "I believe that is a junkpile."

"Oh, my apologies to the junk pile then. It's hard to tell the difference in non-elvish gardens."

Bork agreed, the tower had a lean of 2%, and was overgrown with lichen and thorny vines. It sat in a field of tall underbrush and large mushrooms. "I agree he needs to hire a competent architectural firm, but if you look closely, you'll see a lot of snail shells in that vegetation. I don't think it's healthy for the gardeners."

"THOSE WHO GO TO THE MASTERS HOUSE WILL NOT RETURN! AND STAY OFF MY LAWN" Number twelve had been place on top of Ursula, which seemed to please him to know end, and piss off the rest of the snails. He had been injecting his somewhat helpful comments when he could. A group of Scavengers cheered and took a shot of rum. They had created a drinking game based on when Number twelve repeated his favorite seven announcements.

Milo said, "No one move forward, please. I recognize some of those mushrooms, they are highly poisonous." He took out a pair of harvesting tongs and a Mushroom Gathering Bag and began to carefully clear a pathway towards the door.

Zander was suddenly very interested, "How poisonous? I've been working on my resistance and...well, let's just say that I have a few skills that use certain poisonous extracts."

"Highly Poisonous. My first encounter with them was very bad. There is a mix here of six varieties of poisonous mushrooms. Obviously planted here, they don't grow like this naturally. Wandering into this area will release a spore cloud from some, contact poison from others, and the Eyeblight does terrible damage if touched, and worse if accidentally ingested. It grows in synergy with Golden Puffballs, which are very edible and tasty, but a rarity since harvesting them is so dangerous in caves. I see only a few puffballs, most likely here to aid the growth of the Eyeblight."

Butch wandered forward for a better look, along with Zander, while most people stepped back many paces. Butch grinned, "I've got Constitution of a Rock, now, and have been working on my Deep Dweller Poison Resistance. To go with that, I picked up some levels in Snake Taming from a swamp hag. That means I earn experience in resisting poison at three times normal, and Deep Dweller lets me get a portion of that for Toughness training."

Zander smiled and said, "For Science...and maybe a small quest or two that requires poison research."

Milo saw that as Butch said 'Toughness Training', many dwarven ears perked up, and some of the scavengers were suddenly interested. Especially those with a large amount of rum in them. The Scavengers claimed that enough rum could let them survive anything, and while Milo didn't know if that was true or not, the belief could lead to a lot of deaths here...unless an example or two was made.

"Well, I am not one to stand in the way of science or Toughness. Open wide and I'll give you each a small one to chew on."

The two brave and foolish guinea pigs opened their mouths, and a second later were chewing and swallowing. Butch winced in pain a moment later. Zander was far past that point. His body stiffened, and then he put his hands on his head, and screamed loudly. Everyone watched in horror as his eyes dissolved and ran down his face, followed quickly by him falling to the ground, dead, his body curling up into a fetal position before being replaced by a headstone.

Belinda had been casting a spell, "Dammit! Let me get a Remedy spell started before you idiots do stuff like this. He was dead mid cast." She turned to Butch, who was quivering and trying not to throw up, he held up a hand when she turned to cast her spell on him.

"Don't you dare! I've almost gotten a level in Toughness. I'll ride it out."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. Looks painful."

"Arrrgh! Yeah...it is. Worse than eating too many of the cheap ACME Burritos we used to get in the hab. No one ate them after the first week they were available."

Min rolled her eyes. "They were bad. I got sick eating one. You and Brad were stupid and ate a dozen, even after people were getting sick! Idiots! You two need to find us a better source of burritos."

The rock gnome was in horrible pain, holding his stomach and tears rolling down his face, but he grinned. "So salty, and fatty, and tasty...It was worth it back than."

She sat down on her haunches, coming to eye level with him. "Yeah, how about now?"

"A little worse....make that a lot worse." His eyes rolled back in his head, and his skin took on a rough, grey pallor. After he hadn't moved for a few seconds, his little sister poked his chest, knocking him over. His body shattered to rocks, then to dust, an awful smell wafting into the air. Another headstone appeared.

Milo looked at the group of people, now another twenty feet back, and asked, "Anyone else want to try one?"

Number twelve yelled, in the Master's Voice, "Any volunteers? Remember, it's for science and a chance for me to win an award for Best Experimental Potion! Useless apprentices, someone needs to volunteer, this is FOR SCIENCE!"

Milo went back to work, clearing the mushrooms from the underbrush and slicing through the trucks of the largest bushes with his claws, clearing a safe pathway to the front door. While he was doing that, other people cautiously explored the area. Onyx returned after a bit, holding a stack of yellowed parchment in his hands. Milo was taking a break, fortifying himself with a slice of Munster and a potion of Myconic Resistance he always carried with him.

Onyx handed him the papers. "Take a look. We found a trash heap off to the right. It's a deep pit, and goes down who knows how far, but mostly filled with trash: empty packing crates, shattered statues, the remails of snails and a lot of long dead bodies of other creatures. Also some odd machinery that the dwarves are puzzling over and taking apart to scavenge a few magi-tech parts. Frankly, it looks like what I'd expect Dr. Frankenstein to have in his laboratory."

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

Milo looked at the paperwork. They were invoices and packing slips. One read:

One hundred twenty dehydrated Carno-Turkey breasts, seasoned with salt, rockberry extract, and wild spice-lichen.

Ship to: Number Thirteen

Payment Guaranteed by Counting House Seven, Central Plaza.

Shipment by Deep Roads Wagon and Freight Mercenary Company.

The other labels were for large amounts of flasks, test tubes, copper tubing, and chemicals of all types. Milo looked at the large number 13 carved on the building. "I don't like where this is going. Tell everyone to have their weapons ready. Anything could happen."

They watched as he walked carefully up to what should be the front doors of the tower, but didn't mount the stairs. Instead, he was looking at the stonework. Slowing, carefully, he worked his way around the tower, not touching it, and clearing a narrow path of dangerous mushrooms that he saved in jars. Then came back to the main group.

"I've seen this type of stonework before. In the mine area that's our goal, an unknown race of small humanoids built amazing staircases and buildings, molding them from the raw rock. At some point, they broke free of their captors and killed the larger brutes keeping them as slaves. But there were no books, or furnishings, or anything to give a hint about them, just old skeletons with collars and shackles."

Bork was also looking at the tower. "I saw this type of work at Fort Hopeless, down in the mines and some parts of the tower. Amazing work, especially the deeper stuff where no one bigger than me could go. The Nimbulkin that worked the stone were artists. They were slaves brought in to mine, but they carved out a little kingdom down there, all for themselves, to hide the growing number of children that the elves knew nothing about. If there was any part of that place that was worth saving, it was those tunnels. It meant a lot more work, setting the explosives to only take out the upper floors, but worth it. I want to go back there some day. And I'm really curious about what's inside this place."

Milo pointed to the doorway. "That's a solid mass of stone, four feet thick. My Stone Sense shows it's not a door, just part of the tower, but there are odd mechanisms in the stone that I can't figure out. There may be traps."

Bork cracked his knuckles loudly, "I certainly hope their are traps! Of course there are traps. What fun is it if no one dies?" The Goblin Trapmeister put on a set of goggles, and pulled out an few tools from his belt, approaching the doorway. He worked to his right, carefully brushing aside lichen and dead snail shells, snipping the sharp, poisonous thorns from the vines. "May want to move a hundred feet to the left, just in case." People quickly moved. Bork lay on the ground, and tapped a section of the wall. Instantly, spears of rock protruded from the stone, and stone darts shot out.

Bork stood up. "Damn fine work. I love how they incorporate Stone Molding Runes into the traps. Now move the other way, need to trip the trap on the left."

Rather than move to the right, everyone simply moved back another hundred feet. Bork repeated his work on those traps, with equal success. Then he moved to the 'door', spending over an hour carefully prodding, prying, and examining the intricate stonework under the layers of dirt and old vegetation. Three times he triggered traps surrounding the doorway, dodging out of the way, as if he knew what was coming. Then he casually brushed the dirt off of his clothes and waved to everyone. "All clear, and I've figured out the mechanism to retract the slab. Simple really, when you think about it, and something he might have even taught his minions to say. Just have to figure it out and maybe put a little pressure on those smart snails."

Number Twelve, ever helpful, shouted, "Master says, Iftaḥ yā Simsim."

Soundlessly, the stone slab slammed to the ground in front of the tower, creating a ramp to walk up, and crushing Bork beneath it. Ursula growled and Amarella grabbed number Twelve, flying the snail over to the rest of the council, and dropping him in with them. A furious philosophical argument ensued, with several snails coming to Twelve's defense and congratulating him on striking back against the invaders. Number Twelve, for his part, was strangely humble and silent.

Milo took one look inside the tower, and recoiled a step, horror on his face. "Everyone stay back!" Then he went to Min, and whispered low, "I need you to make sure Ringtail, Tweedle, Brutus, Gendifur, and the girls don't go in that building. Just trust me, and say I said so."

She looked at Milo, knowing something was wrong. "You got it. But who is going to go in with you?"

He scanned the people present, not knowing what was going to happen next. "Let's deploy a gunline and set up defenses, just in case. Keep the smart snails far back, where they can't shout anything. Then I want Nina and Onyx to go in with me."

His brother and sister had already decided they were going, seeing Milo's body language and watching as he shifted to a higher level. They did the same. The three of them stepped aside to talk. Nina asked, "How bad is it?"

He shuddered, "Bad. So Bad."

Onyx sighed. "On a scale of one to ten, with Lose a Toe on the low end and Captured by the Slaver Mage at the top, what are we talking?"

Milo shuddered, "Certainly a nine, maybe as high as an eleven."

Onyx grinned, "I'm honored you picked me."

Nina elbowed him in the side, "We were the only ones left after those idiots got over confident. Algernon is going to be so sad he had monitor duty."

A stern voice came from behind, making a flat statement. "Which is why I'm going with you. What sort of idiots leave the healer behind?"

Milo looked at Belinda. "I'm trying to save you from having some potential bad memories."

She patted him on the head, "What happened made me stronger. And there's not much worse than finding out what my father did to me."

Milo said softly, "Oh, I think there may be..."