Session 13: Your Father vs The Boss

You step behind your Father, his shield millimeters from the entrance, as he looks back at you. “Ready?” he asks. His voice is only a whisper, but the intensity could overpower a bullhorn. You take a breath, steadying yourself as you think through the plan.

“It’ll be simple,” you tell yourself. “Just get in, free the prisoners, and rush back out. No more than a minute.” You grip your blade, ready to cut their ropes and drag them out if need be. You look back to your Father, giving him a nod. Your face isn't even up before he moves. He strides into the room, shield high and short sword ready. His footfalls make no sound; only the clanking of his armor gives him away. The Boss turns, but your Father is already on him, delivering a pinpoint thrust that pierces flesh and sends the blade out the other side.

“GAH!” the Boss cries, saved only by lightning-fast reflexes, catching the blade with his hand. The steel pierces through his hand, but is stopped before it could reach his heart.

“HA!” Your Father shouts, giving no quarter and continuing his sprint. Despite the Boss’s impressive size advantage, your Father pushes him onto the back foot. He drives the steel further, putting his whole weight into the strike and knocking him into the pile of furs. You turn away, confident your Father has this under control, though the grunts and scrapes continue; you focus your attention on rounding the corner. You hadn’t seen any prisoners in the room with the fire, so they had to be elsewhere. Matt had said there were four people still missing. Since you hadn’t found any sign of them elsewhere, they had to be here. Your eyes quickly adjust as you turn from the flames, sword ready to cut through any binds they might have, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what you found.

The smell hits you first, a horrid mix of blood, feces, and mold assaults your nose and slams your gag reflex to max. You nearly pass out, your vision suddenly darkening as you cling to consciousness by your fingernails. Your strides falter as you slip on the slick spread throughout the room. You fall to your knees, only barely keeping your face from the floor, but that just brings your nose closer to the horrid smell. You force yourself to look up through the coughs and gags, desperate to free the prisoners and get out. Unable to stand, you crawl forward, your hands splashing through hand-sized puddles littering the uneven floor.

*Slap*

Your hands finally hit something that isn't stone; it’s springy but has a solid core. You grab onto it and instantly realize it’s a leg. “Found them,” you think, shaking the leg.

“Wake up, we’re here to save you,” but the leg’s owner doesn't say anything. The leg remains limp no matter how much you shake it. “Hey, come on, we need to—”

*PLAP*

You crawl further, trying to reach the person's shoulders, thinking that you could shake them awake, but your hand reaches something new. It sinks into something squishy and cold, like a thick wet mud pile. Your eyes slowly adjust, your vision hazy from the oppressive smell that’s only grown more intense. For a moment, you’re afraid you’ve crawled through a latrine, but you see it’s far worse. You see, the pile is an all-consuming red with bits and pieces of white sticking out like a pile of crushed-up candy canes. You jump back, desperate to get away from whatever the pile is. Your hand remains clutching the leg and pulls it back with you. It drags with surprising ease, weighing almost nothing in your hand. You look down with your now adjusted eyes and see why. In your hand is a leg, or at least what remains of it. Only the calf and foot remain; everything above the knee has been severed, and the bone at the top looks like it’s been gnawed on by a dog. You throw the severed leg away, spiraling into another round of gagging and dry heaving. You look around and see no prisoners, only five more piles of red mush with odd limbs sticking out.

“What is this?” you wonder, scrabbling to leave the room, clawing at the stone floor as you try to escape. You return to the main room, where your Father is still locked in desperate combat with the goblin Boss. Both look worse for wear. Orange blood leaks from the goblin Boss’s left hand, and his furry coat looks more orange than brown, stained by the blood leaking from a dozen small cuts and scrapes. He’s panting, vapor emanating from his squashed pug-like face and massive tusks jutting from his lower jaw. His hunched-over posture emphasizes his overhung arms. It’s as if you put a gorilla’s limbs on a bear's frame. His back arches as his clawed hands hang low near his knees. His growls sound like a bear's roar as he eyes the fur pile behind your Father.

Your Father looks better at first, but as your vision clears, you can see he’s not much better. His armor hides most of his wounds, though you can see hints of red mixed in with the orange stains. His sword hand shakes; as he holds the blade out, armor pieces rattling together like a drummer keeping a beat. His teeth gnash as he takes deep, steady breaths. As they charge at one another once again, you see why your Father is having trouble. The Boss’s arms give him incredible reaction. Even with your blade extended all the way, the Boss’s claws will reach his chest before the blade can so much as shave the Boss. Your Father slashes at the brawny arms, finding little but fur and toned muscles to strike, never anything critical, and only producing paper-cut scratches. If your Father waits longer to strike, he has to face the claws. The Bosse’s claws scrape against your Father’s armor, finding their way around the plates and through the chainmail, hooking on like a cat. Even if your Father blocks the blows with his shield, the Boss’s reflexes pull him away with only a scrape on his chest. The two are locked in a battle of attrition. Each exchange of blows batters the shield further and leaves a new dent in your Father’s armor; consequently, the Boss never pulls back without a new cut on his arms. You can see this bout going on forever, and decide not to watch as the stink-dripping tendril extends from around the corner and hooks your nose.

You crawl back, scraping along the side, hoping to avoid detection as you slink from the room. The pair is so engrossed in their brawl that neither notices you. You hear metal clang, steel scrapes like scissors, and adrenaline-filled grunts with each blow. Just as you're reaching the entryway, you look back one last time. Your Father looks worse with each bout, while from behind, the Boss seems unscathed. His back is completely exposed, nothing but a thin layer of fur to stop any blade or arrow from driving deep into his organs. Your hand unconsciously reaches for your sword, finding the sheath empty. Your stomach drops as you realize you’d left your sword back around the corner.

“Dammit!” you curse, realizing you’ll have to go back for it eventually, only now realizing you’ve jumped from the frying pan straight into the fire. Your Father’s eyes move first, spotting you hunched near the exit. He only takes his eyes off the Boss for a second, but that’s all the Boss needs. He reaches out with both arms, all but wrapping your Father in a bear hug. Your Father moves to counter, leaving an orange streak down the length of the Boss’s arm, but it’s too late.

“Gah!” your Father gasps as you hear metal warp and crumble. The Boss picks him off the ground, throwing him like a trash bag across the room. Your Father crashes through the bonfire, nearly tipping the boiling pot over. He lands next to you, kicking the embers away from his feet.

“RUN!” he commands, grabbing you by the collar and dragging you around the corner when your rubber legs won’t cooperate. “He has too much reach in the open room; we need to lure him into the caverns where—”

*RING*

For a moment, all you can hear is a dim ringing in your ear. You try opening your eyes, but despite the darkness of the cave, all you see is white. You try wiping your eyes, but your right arm doesn’t move. You try your left arm, and it feels like it’s moving through syrup. As your vision returns blurry and staggering as it is, you see you're half-buried in rocks. Your head feels like it weighs a million kg as you lift it. The bonfire’s light is more piercing than the sun's as a silent shadow moves closer. You feel a gruff, furry hand pull you from the rubble. Despite your nose being filled with the worst wet dog smell you can imagine, you don’t gag. You aren't even sure you're breathing for a second. You feel a warm breeze on your face, realizing it's someone’s bad breath when you smell wine. You feel something forcing your chin up; it’s hard and pointed, like a blunt needle, though you don't realize you're bleeding until it begins trickling down your chest. Though your ears are still ringing, your eyes are fully adjusted, and your body becomes your own once again. You realize the Boss is holding you up against the cave wall, your feet dangling in the air as he shouts something at you and holds your chin up with the tip of his halberd.

“DANGER!” Your mind screams, adrenaline replacing the blood in your veins. “KILL!” The singular action fills your mind as you reach for the knife on your belt. Your hand refuses to clutch the handle; fingers only slapping it like a limp tentacle. “MUST GET FREE,” Your left hand moves on its own, sticking out one knuckle. You drive your hand into the Boss’s eye, twisting until you feel a pop. The breeze on your face becomes a whirlwind as you drop onto rubbery knees. You take a single second to gauge your surroundings. To your right is the tunnel leading down to the rest of the cavern, and directly in front of you is the Boss, still clutching his eye with the halberd in his left hand. You know the Boss is shouting, hollering in the most horrific pain-filled screams, but you don't hear anything besides a dim ring. Behind him, you see the bonfire, its light shimmering through a new hole in the cave that reminds you of the ones from the cottage and tavern. The hole almost widened the room entrance, preventing only a thin stone pillar from outlining the original entryway. As you look at him, he raises the halberd. Your mind screams for your legs to move, but they refuse, remaining limp. As the halberd reaches the tunnel ceiling, you prepare for it to come down upon you, only for a glint of metal to flash across your eyes. It strikes the Boss in his right shoulder, almost jolting him into dropping the halberd. You focus on the glint and realize it’s your Father’s short sword, jutting out of the Boss’s meaty shoulder. You look to your left, seeing your Father sitting against the cave wall, arm extended. The Boss looks as well, grasping the halberd in both hands and taking a step to widen his stance. Your Father simply holds up his shield and shouts something to you. You still can’t hear anything but the dim ringing, but you can read his lips easily enough.

“RUN!” With those words, the Boss swings his halberd around, holding it by the end to generate maximum leverage. The swing carries so much force that it crashes through the stone pillar left by the new hole, turning it to pebbles before landing on your Father. You don't hear a thing, but you feel it reverberate through the air and stone around you. The crash sparks life back into your legs as you feel every muscle below your waist tighten. You take off, only looking back to see the Boss pull the halberd away, the remains of your Fathers shield clinging where the ax head embedded itself. The Boss turns to face you, eyes glowing yellow in the dim light as he lets loose a roar that shakes the caves and gives chase.