Chapter 107: 105. Pocketwatch

You come to with a harsh gasp, then wonder why. Your head feels... thick. Something about cotton wool? Why does that sound so familiar?

Torches line the pillars around you, and it takes you several moments to place yourself. The treasure room. The chest behind you is rather distinctive.

But why are you in the treasure room?

You shake yourself, like a dog, and stand, still looking around with a curious eye. You're not hungover, so it wasn't a drunken escapade. You feel fine, just fluffy.

You make it most of the way to the stairs to the second floor before the memories flash back into place.

A raised sword, red eyes. A sudden, sharp pain.

Death.

Oh.

Yeah.

That.

Taking a breath, then another to steady yourself from the onrush of unpleasant memories, you continue on your journey. No one seems to be up here, so you may as well go any find out what happened.

The second floor is quiet. The stairwell is too. It's not until you find your way to the arena that you hear voices. You smile. Of course everyone is unwinding in the tavern.

Your smile doesn't last long. The mood isn't right.

You look around.

The kobolds are sat around one table, talking quietly and nursing tankards. Sapphire is nibbling on something, throwing scraps to Hyena and Steve. Sienna has claimed the chair next to Jack, and is leaning against him slightly.

Amanda and Mercy are at the big table. Mercy has a half smile on her face, but Amanda looks sombre, even as she says something that makes Mercy bark in quiet laughter. Something around the necromancer's eyes is taut, and they flick to you then away again.

Sith and Keth are in the corner. The Oread is looming over them, but Sith at least doesn't seem to mind.

Feathers is sat with the goblins. They aren't laughing, or smiling. She's poking at a bowl of stew with a long handled spoon, but the bowl is still full and she makes no effort to eat while you watch.

Charlemagne and One Eye are muttering together at the far end of the table. Hammer, Sand and Notch-ear are silent, Sand staring vacantly at the wall ahead of her.

Clatter is sat, head in his hands, a clear divide between him and the others. The bones woven into his hair are uneven, the braids loose and unkempt.

Three goblin children rush past you.

Quieter than they were before. Subdued. Without the fourth voice, their laughter seems flat. Their game, some sort of tag derivative, stumbles when all three of them turn to look for a fourth player that isn't there.

Your eyes track back up, to see everyone watching you.

Something dark bubbles in your heart, stealing the strength from your limbs. You sit.

“What happened? From the beginning, if you could.”

Silence answers you.

You turn to Sith. “What happened after I died?”

She swallows a mouthful, seemingly one of the few in the room still possessing an appetite.

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“I'm not sure. We didn't last much longer than you did.”

You nod, and turn to Sapphire and the kobolds. Your first lover straightens up in her chair to give her report.

“The knight, with the goose, he didn't last very long. Willow baited the bigger spiders out – that was the scream, apparently. He saw her though, and followed her into the tunnels. Jack got him with a poison and then Bulwark just used his shield to close the tunnel off. They showed up after we all got taken down, unfortunately.”

You turn your attention to the kobolds in question, who nod. Bulwark speaks.

“Small tunnel. No leverage for him to swing his sword around.”

You turn to Feathers, who grimaces.

“Need more things for Village. Bows. Towers useless, walls too. Elf had bomb. Tried to run, meet up with others. Didn't work. Think we die soon after you.”

Amanda speaks up unprompted.

“Probably. They were together when they came to the jail. The kobolds managed to bait them down there. They mistook me for an NPC.”

A sour look crosses her face so briefly you almost think you imagined it.

“I played it up of course. Lots of 'Help me heroes!' and 'I've been trapped down here so long!'. They ate it up. Apparently some of the other dungeons out there actually have NPCs like that, or something similar. The barbarian went to guard the door while the elf picked my lock.”

She smiles, then. A savage, dangerous look.

“I buried him under my skeletons and shanked him. He got me half way to my next level. Then I died, of course. Didn't even see the blow. I think that was a mercy, in the end.”

You turn your eyes on Mercy. She flinches.

“I slowed him down. But he was well equipped. That artificer of theirs knew his stuff. My warform armour got rotted away in seconds. Sapphire said he had some sort of anti fire talisman to use against you too? They did their research, and it showed. The Oread helped, she can take blows like nothing I've ever seen, but without my armour I'm no good at combat.”

She pauses, self loathing colouring her voice. “He pushed us back into the grove then used some spell to seal us in. It only lasted a dozen seconds but...”

You nod. Her eyes close. You turn to Clatter.

He regards you for several seconds before speaking.

“I got him. In the end. He got to your treasure room first. One of the little ones tried to be brave. Tried to stop him. I arrived just in time to see him-”

The elderly goblin chokes for a second, before you see the resolve return.

“To see him get kicked into the wall. The barbarian was in bad shape. Focused on the loot. Been a while since I've felt that amount of Rage.”

You close your eyes, the scene playing out in your minds eye.

The child, stick held out like a sword. Pretending to be a fighter. The sickening crack as a fur boot larger than his entire torso impacts his ribs. The second as his skull his the wall.

You turn to the three that remain. Their eyes are huge, wide as they stare at you. There's no hate, no recrimination that you can see there. Just sadness, already being scabbed over with childish excitement.

“Well then. It sounds like you three could really do with some names.”

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