Chapter 13

Beauty and the Yeast

"Wait, wait, wait," called Joan after the racing figures of Alice and Hugo. The pair sped along the cobbled street leading the bakery. "Oh, my bark-covered hide, will you wait!" She rounded on Fred and stamped her foot.

"They do seem...enthusiastic," said Fred, with a grin. Joan huffed in frustration and they made their way towards the bakery at a more leisurely pace, Epic trailing behind them like a chainmail clad ghost.

"Hold up," said Joan, when they arrived.

"Why?" said Alice. She was staring up at the edifice of the bakers with a considering. Everything was dark and quiet, and the street was washed out with the slate-grey of midnight. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"We need to talk it out," said Joan, "not rush headlong into goodness knows what."

"Boring," said Hugo.

"We need to keep a look out for the watch," said Fred, glancing nervously over his shoulder. The Merry Plebbingtons watchmen were not particularly active, or present, having been narratively irrelevant until now. But they consisted, as far as Fred knew, of a couple of scruffy volunteers in rough uniforms and old boots. They patrolled the streets regularly, day and night looking out for miscreants. None of them wanted to waste time locked in a cell.

"So look," said Alice.

"You don't know what you will find down there," said Joan. Hugo was fiddling with a low window. "We have some time before the witch comes for us! I don't think we should rush into this."

"Pfffft," said Alice.

"She knows what she's talking about," said Fred, "she's done this before."

"What?" said Hugo, "break into the bakery?"

"No," said Fred, "the whole thing! The game!"

"Whatever we find down there will probably trigger the rest of the quest," Joan explained. "We might not be able to stop once we are on that path. How are your XP levels? Your HP? How many hearts do you have left? If you have been killing each other for fun I can't imagine they are very high? How about you Epic?"

Alice and Hugo exchanged guilty looks.

"I haven't done anything," said Epic. "Killed a couple of spiders. Died a few times. My XP is at 3. Got 7 hearts left"

"Well?" said Joan, looking at Hugo and Alice.

"10XP," said Hugo. "12HP, 8 Hearts."

"5XP and 13HP" said Alice. "7 Hearts. What about you old codgers, then?"

"24XP and 13HP," said Fred, "and Joan's is 19XP and 56HP. Neither of us have died yet."

"Whoa," said Hugo.

"Well la-di-da," said Alice.

"I think we should find somewhere to sleep," said Joan, "and find a couple of easy quests to do as a group tomorrow. Then when everyone's stats are a bit beefed up we can come back and raid Simon's house."

There was a pause while they all looked at each other.

"Nah," said Alice. "How hard can it be? He's a baker for crying out loud, not a serial killer." She flipped open a grate and slipped into the darkness.

[+1 Lockpicking Alice69]

Joan heaved a big sigh. Alice's head popped up again.

"Watch for me," she whispered. "And try and be less obvious about it. I've never seen a more ridiculous bunch of old farts trying not to look like burglars."

She vanished into the shop basement once more.

"I'll keep lookout from over there," said Epic, nodding, "you lot watch the other end." She disappeared into the shadows of the adjacent building. Before the rest of them could decide what to do she came back at a run. "The watch is coming!" she hissed.

The dull slap of boots on cobble echoed down the street. Joan dragged Hugo away from the side of the bakery. Fred rushed over as Epic stood stiffly, gesturing hurry up! The four of them arranged themselves in the centre of the street, slouching with the exaggerated casualness of a group of constipated thespians caught rehearsing with their trousers down. A bobbing orange glow rounded the corner, followed by two bored looking men carrying a lantern and spears.

"Evening, officers," said Fred, waggling his eyebrows. "Mighty fine night!"

Epic let out a muffled squeal and bit her fist. The watchmen nodded curtly, uninterested. The two weathered faces did not even glance toward the open grate at the side of the bakery. The orange glow of their lantern travelled around the corner of the street and then out of sight behind the tea shop. Everyone relaxed.

"Why," muttered Hugo, "do you suddenly have an American accent?" Fred shrugged, trying to suppress his mirth. It had been a while since he'd had so much fun.

"Seemed like the right thing to do."

Epic took up her post once more. The rest of them stood around, as inconspicuously as possible, casting worried glances at the silent bakery. Alice seemed to be taking a very long time. However, all remained still, there were no screams, or crashes or any other indication that she had been discovered. So far, so good. Fred found a piece of window sill to use as a barre and wiled away the minutes stretching.

[The Fredinator +1 Discipline]

"Oh, how nice," said Fred, sweeping his leg out in grand battements and resisting the urge to poke Hugo in the nose with his big toe. "Thank you, dungeon, whatever it means."

"Oi," said Hugo, as Fred's foot floated perilously close to his face. He watched Fred for a few moments, looking rather perplexed.

"How did you die?" he asked as if finding out might explain Fred's eccentric behaviour.

"Crushed by a chandelier."

"Huh."

Hugo sidled up to Epic in her lonely puddle of darkness.

"So how did you die?"

"None of your business."

"Not so loud," muttered Joan from her perch on the wall. Quiet returned for a few long minutes. A rustle and a short, sharp rattle made them all jump. Alice's face appeared in the open grate. She stared up at them, her eyes round and strained. A bead of sweat stood out on her forehead.

"I think you need to come and see this," she said. Her voice was low and subdued. It was quite unlike the Alice that Fred had come to know in the last few hours.

"What?" said Hugo. "What is it? What did you find?"

"Shhhhhhh," she said. "We do not want to wake him."

"Who?"

"The baker, obviously," Alice hissed. "Just – just come and see."

She dropped back into the room. Hugo followed her, swinging his legs over the lip of the sill without hesitation. Fred and Joan exchanged glances, then followed suit.

"Be careful," Epic's whisper followed them down off the street. Fred waved a reassuring hand at her as he slipped through the narrow window. He only just fit.

The room below was black as pitch. Fred landed softly, and straightened, seeing only darkness. Meagre amounts of moonlight filtered in through the solitary grubby window. Pale, sickly light cast shelves into devilish shapes. The room smelt like yeast, and something else sweet and not a little sickly. Fred blinked. Sinister, grotesque objects gradually resolved themselves into shelving, barrels and innocuous bags of flour as his eyes adjusted. Someone stood on his toe.

"Ow," he said, loudly.

"Shhh!" said Alice. From overhead came a loud rumble.

"What was that?" whispered Joan.

"I think it Simon's snoring," said Alice. The silence returned, just long enough to be uncomfortable. Then once again the rumbling snore rippled across the airwaves.

"That man should see a doctor," said Fred, quietly.

"If he's snoring he's asleep," said Joan. "Hopefully he will stay that way. Now, what did you find?"

Alice held up something in the dark. It looked like a crumpled piece of cloth. They all bent closer, trying to see.

"What is it?" whispered Hugo. Alice made an exasperated sound and lit a small stub of candle. The little flame blossomed into a flower of light, and Fred could see the white cloth was speckled and marked with red. There was something distinctly unwholesome about it.

"What is it?"

"A little girl's dress," said Alice. She tossed the frock aside, and picked up a glass jar, holding it out accusingly. "And this is a jar of sweets."

"Okay–"

"At least that's how it's labelled," said Alice. "Look closer."

They all leaned in and then recoiled in shock. The jar was stacked to the brim with sticky, off-white eyeballs. The organs stared sightlessly in whatever disgusting juice they floated in. Pink bits of vein and flesh trailed in the liquid-like jelly. Hugo let out a muffled shriek, and they all shushed him. Overhead the rumble faltered, and then carried on uninterrupted.

"That's not all," said Alice, turning away. She shoved the jar on a table and pulled open a box. She held it out so they could see inside. It was piled high with small pairs of shoes.

"What the–" Hugo stared at them, his face pale in the wavering candlelight. He picked up a sandal and held it out mutely.

"Looks like we've found our missing kids," said Fred.

"There's only one missing child, isn't there?" asked Joan, softly.

"There have been flyers up all over town," said Hugo. "I saw some before."

"There's a door," said Alice, setting the box back down with a gentle nudge. "Over there. I was afraid to open it."

She pointed to the far corner, where an old, rickety cellar door was built into the floor. A rusty lock hung off dirt-blackened hinges. It did not look like the sort of door that would lead to a pleasant place.

"Shit," said Hugo, with feeling.

"Okay," said Joan, puffing air out through her cheeks. "Hugo? You stay here and keep listening for the snores. The rest of us will go and see what's down there?" Hugo nodded unhappily. Alice fiddled with the lock, holding it in a piece of cloth so it didn't clank.

"Try your dagger," hissed Hugo. Alice glared at him but did as he said. The lock clicked open with a clank.

[Alice69 +1 Lock picking]

They all stared up at the ceiling, waiting. The snoring continued and they all breathed out.

"I should go first," said Alice, not moving. "You all move like a herd of elephants."

"Go on, then," whispered Fred. "We are right behind you."

She waited a heartbeat, then pulled the doors open with a gentle creak. A black hole was revealed and a chill gust of air whooshed out of the darkness. By the meagre light of the candle they could see rickety wooden steps leading down into yawning darkness. They crept down the stairs in a clump, Alice marginally in the lead, with Fred and Joan following on tiptoe. The wall to their side was damp stone, rough-hewn and stark – quite unlike the quaint, chocolate-box appeal of the shop above. Alice paused, her eyes growing wider. The candle illuminating tiny handprints smeared in red and brown.

"Come on," said Joan, encouragingly. "We are here." Alice resumed her progress and five minutes later they arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

[Alice69; The Fredinator and Joan of Snark +1 Sneak]

The music that announced their skill point was low and subdued as if whatever magic that provided the flourish knew it needed to be quiet. The silence in the cellar was oppressive. It was stuffy and dense – the kind of silence that should be cut with a knife before it could suffocate. Dim light was provided by a great iron furnace tucked into a far wall. It glowed like a demonic mouth of hell, a few restless embers stirring and crackling in the dying fire. It did nothing to warm the place.

"This looks like a crypt," muttered Joan in Fred's ear. "Get your ladle out."

"The church is right next door, isn't it?" said Fred, eyeing the ancient-looking walls with deep suspicion. "Perhaps Simon just expanded into whatever was down here..."

"Look," said Alice. "Something's there–"

A rustle in the dark. Joan and Alice clutched Fred like anxious barnacles.

"Hello?" came a quavering voice. It echoed off the vaulted ceiling high above. "Hello? Is someone there?"

"Who is it?" said Fred, refusing to give in to hysteria. "Who's there?"

"Thomas!" came the voice, thin and childlike. "It's Thomas! Who are you?"

"The missing child!" said Joan. Alice ran forward, taking the light with her, and Fred and Joan ran after her.

A small boy, maybe five or six years of age was trapped in an iron cage. He was dirty, and his eyes were wide as he clutched at the rusty bars.

"Oh, my god," said Alice, fumbling with the lock. "Let's get you out of here."

"What happened?" Fred asked the little boy. When he had suggested breaking into the baker's house he had not been expecting jam jars full of eyeballs and children in cages. He had been thinking more along the lines of an incriminating diary, hidden in plain sight. Perhaps a box of love letters with some dark secrets. "How did you get here?"

"The baker!" squealed the little boy. "The baker said he'd give me sweeties if I came with him! But he put me here instead!"

Alice got the padlock open and Thomas leapt into her arms, shivering.

[Alice69 +1 Lock picking]

[Ding! QUEST COMPLETE! Find the Missing Child! All party members +5XP]

"Don't worry you are safe now," said Joan. Fred looked sideways at her, then up at the door, just visible at the top of the long rickety stairway.

"The baker was gonna put me inna pie," sobbed Thomas, clinging to Alice. "He puts all the kids in pies, and then sells them in his shop."

[Ding! New Quest: The Yeast of the Morning]

"Whoa," said Alice.

Fred and Joan exchanged glances.

"Uh-Oh," said Joan.

Fred sniffed. There was a foul stench in the air that turned his stomach. An undercurrent of sweetness made him want to wrench. He stepped forward, afraid of what he would see on the shelves next to the furnace and something crunched underfoot. Small white bones littered the floor. Cooling pies lined the shelves. His grip tightened on his ladle, and he wondered, briefly, how much use a spoon would be against a baker with a meat cleaver. He dismissed such thoughts as unhelpful. There were three of them. Four if they counted Hugo upstairs.

"I can make an educated guess," said Fred, keeping his voice low, "why Simon murdered Myrtha."

"She went downstairs," said Joan, looking around, her eyes wide. "She found – this." At the far end of the dark room was a chopping block full of grisly remains. Fred tore his eyes away and focused on Thomas.

"Are there any others?" he said. "Any other children still down here?"

"No," Thomas ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, smearing them with dirt even further. "I was the last one. Can we go now? I want to go–"

"Yes," said Alice, "let's get out of–"

"Not so fast!"

Standing at the top of the steps, outlined in hellish orange light was Simon the Baker. His face was twisted in anger, his eyes were pinpricks of darkness. He was holding an embarrassed looking Hugo by the scruff of the neck. In his other hand he held a wicked looking meat-cleaver – oh no – it was a rolling pin. Fred relaxed a little.

"Kick him in the shins," Alice yelled.

"I thought I heard rats in my basement!" roared the angry baker.

Hugo twisted and lashed out with his legs. Simon leaned back to avoid him, and then casually dropped him down the stairs.

[Hugo Balls -2 HP]

Fortunately, Hugo landed on his feet and sprang up in a moment, his face flushed.

"Don't be scared," said Fred, between gritted teeth. "He's only got a rolling pin."

"What are you doing snooping around my basement!" roared the baker. "Breaking into my house!" He advanced in booming steps. Hugo scuttled backwards on his backside.

"Pretty sure kidnapping children and baking them into pies is something the watch will want to hear about," said Joan, pushing Thomas and Alice behind her.

"Robbers!" screamed Simon. He was halfway down now. "Bandits! Filthy vegetarians! Bastardly burglars!" Simon swung his rolling pin menacing, then reached into one of his pockets.

"Watch it!" cried Thomas from behind them. Fred turned to look at the little boy and received a pie to the face for his trouble.

[The Fredinator -1 HP]

Simon was whipping pastries out of every pocket and lobbing them across the intervening distance.

"Take that you house-breaking, thieving rats!" he yelled.

A custard tart caught Alice in the chin.

[Alice69 -1 HP]

A jam doughnut bounced off Joan, not doing any damage whatsoever.

"Get behind me, Alice," said Joan calmly.

Fred lashed out with his ladle, landing blows on chest and leg. The enraged baker huffed and blew, wheeling around, pie in one hand and rolling pin in the other. Fred ducked as a fast travelling custard tart whizzed overhead.

"Damn," said Fred. It splattered against the wall behind him. A baguette skittered across the tiles. A cupcake boinked him on the head.

[-1 HP The Fredinator]

"Ow," said Fred, "that felt like it was made from concrete."

"I overdid the flour," said Simon, advancing threateningly. "I didn't use enough raising agents!" He fished another pie out of his side pocket.

"There is no way," said Alice, "that he has those all in his pockets."

"Probably has magic pockets," said Joan.

"I'll teach you to break into my shop and steal from me!" Simon bellowed. He pulled a fist full of boiled sweets out of his shirt and starting hurling them. They whistled as they flew through the air leaving peppermint trails of green and exploding in small bangs. Everyone they hit lost a hit point.

[-1HP Hugo; -1 HP Alice; -1 HP Fred]

"Come on," said Alice, brandishing her dagger, "let's get the child-eating bastard!"

Simon laid about him with a rolling pin in one hand and a baguette in the other, landing blows on all of them, except Hugo.

[-4HP The Fredinator; -6HP Alice69; -1HP Joan of Snark]

"Ow," said Fred, getting in a couple of thumps of his own with The Spoon of Destiny. Hugo cast a rather small, smoky fireball from the end of his wand which hit Simon square in the chest, knocking him back a step.

"Can anyone see if he's losing hit points?" Fred asked breathlessly.

"No," everyone shouted from various corners of the great room.

"Baguette is taking damage though," said Hugo. And it was.

"Altogether," shouted Joan, and they descended on Simon from all sides. Joan clocked him across the head with a vicious swing of her Knobbly Wizard's Staff ("I'm sure you're not supposed to use it like that," muttered Fred. "Says the man wielding a spoon." ) Hugo pelted him with baby fireballs and Alice and Fred went to town with dagger and ladle respectively. Simon, let out a roar, spinning in a frantic circle, a gyrating morning star of tart projectiles and flailing rolling pin. Fred dodged low, and dealt him a massive blow to the ankles at the same moment Alice stabbed him in on his left foot. Joan clobbered him on the knees with her staff. Simon screamed and fell to the ground. There was an orchestral swell.

[Ding! Congratulations! You have defeated Simon the Baker: The Yeast of the Morning, Quest Complete! All party members +10XP]

[The Fredinator LEVEL UP!]

[Joan of Snark LEVEL UP!]

The Incomplete Guide to Some Things popped into existence with a stirring crescendo and a flurry of golden motes. The ginger headed man glared at them over the top of the levitating pages.

"Congratulations you breathing fucknuts, you've gained enough XP to make it to Level Two." He yawned theatrically. "How would you like to spend your bonus?"

Joan of Snark Level 2

Class: Druid ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

XP: 34

HP: 55/56 [1 pair Old Shoes + 1 Mildly Scandalous Knickers + 1 Sensible Bra+ 2 Green Druid's Robe +2 Knobbly Wizard's Staff + 0 FadedWizard's Hat ] x8

Bonus: x8 HP Bonus

+1 Firemaking

+1 Cooking

+1 Herbalism

+1 Sneak

The Fredinator Level 2

Class: Monk ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

XP: 39

HP:6/13 [2 Bucket + 1 pair Flimsy Sandals + 1 Boring Boxers + 2 Charismatic Trousers +1 Threadbare Shirt + 2 teaspoons + 4 Spoon of Destiny]

Bonus: Condensed Milk

Dual wield

+1 Charisma (-1 Charisma +2 Charismatic Trousers)

+1 Elevation

+ 1 Sneak

+1 Discipline