Chapter 33

Recipes for Revenge Part II

Joan made her way out of the fairy city, moving as quickly as possible. Not only was she getting hungry but she was anxious to get her hands on those recipes and start cooking up some revenge. But access to a fully stocked alchemy shop and crafting bench would be worth the delay. At least she hoped so.

Once she was a suitable distance away from the fairy city, Joan came to a stop in a forest clearing. Birds were singing in the trees, and sunlight filtered through the canopy. Far above the sky was a deep, azure blue and peppered with fat fluffy clouds. This would do.

Joan looked down at the fat, innocent beans. They tingled in her palm, and she could feel the wild magic in them, itching to get out.

“You do your thing now,” she said to them, She gave them a quick kiss since no one was about to see. They quivered in her palm. Joan dug up some loam and deposited them gently, patting the fat beans gently into the soil, and watering them from a nearby stream.

She took a step back.

Then another, just in time.

Three beanstalks exploded out of the earth, showering her with soil. They burst into the sky, as thick as cobras, as thick as tree trunks, as thick as houses, twirling and twining around each other, growing and twisting into a single mammoth towering vine. The top was lost in the clouds in a matter of moments. Joan wiped her face clean as she waited for it to settle. Then, she heaved a deep breath and started to climb.

Up, and up she went, clinging to the fleshy stem with both hands, digging her fingers into the twining vines to steady herself. It wasn’t too difficult. There were plenty of offshoots and leaves to heave herself up with but she was soon very high up. The monstrous beanstalk swayed a little in the sunny breeze, and the fairy city below soon looked like a set of child’s toys laid out on a grassy rug. Looking down was a mistake. Joan gripped the trunk of the vine with all her strength, and she wondered if she was going to vomit before plunging to her death.

She focused her gaze on the texture of the magical plant in front of her, breathing in and out. The sun was warm on her back and after a while she was calm enough to climb. This time she made sure not to look down. Up she went, pushing between the giant leaves. Her nose was filled with the comforting scent of growing things, and she concentrated on that. The air turned misty, and she realised she was climbing through a cloud. Once the air became clear, craning her neck she could see the giant’s castle far above. Rising majestically out of a cloud bank, it had glittering spires of white and gold which gleamed soft and buttery in the refracted sunlight. The tiles were pink clay and the windows blank, glassy eyes staring out at her. It was hard to ascertain the scale, but by the ache in her shoulders she knew it was further away than it looked. Undaunted, Joan climbed on.

She arrived at the top, winded and cautious, and crawled onto the seemingly solid cloud surface. After catching her breath, she rolled on her belly and peeked down at the clouds floating by below. After her arms had stopped feeling like wet spaghetti, she got up.

Unsurprisingly the castle was massive. It took her half an hour to make her way up the steps, struggling to pull herself up each one that was the size of a cliff. She cursed as she went, and tried not to think about how hungry she was. Once she was back in the main dungeon she could eat whatever she wanted.

Once at the top of the stone staircase she was confronted by a door the size of a barn. Joan stared up at it, momentarily losing her nerve. How would she even get it open? She was crazy to have attempted this quest on her own. She should have waited, and come with the whole party. All she would accomplish here would be an inconvenient respawn. Then she spotted a crack to one side, just big enough for her to crawl through on all fours, which she did. She was here now, she might as well make the best of it.

Inside was a hallway of epic proportions. It was dimly lit by flaming sconces the size of wagon wheels. She might as well have been standing in a mighty cathedral. She crept across the tiles, each one taking several strides to traverse. Several archways were arrayed before her. Where would she keep her valuables, if she was a giant? A wrong decision here would tire her out, and make her chances of success even more slender than before.

Before she could make a decision, booming footsteps shook the floor. Thud. Thud. Thud. Joan fell forward onto her palms, caught herself and skittered across the open expanse of floor like a mouse. The ground shuddered beneath her feet. She managed to squeeze behind the leg of an enormous table just as the giant entered the vestibule.

[Joan of Snark +2 Sneaking]

Joan looked up… and up.

The giant’s head was obscured by legs the size of tree-trunks (baobabs not birches), and a torso like a slab of stone, but one dressed in a vast expanse of woollen knit. Thud. Thud. Thud. The giant came to a stop. She sniffed the air. Joan ducked behind the table leg, and started calculating how to take the monstrous creature down. The odds were intimidating.

“Fi-fi-fo-fum,” bellowed the giant. The voice was so deep it reverberated off the stones and sounded in her belly. “Fi-fi-fo-fum! I can smell a human bu–” The giant stopped and let out a deep sigh. The air whooshed across the room, tumbling like an autumn gale. She turned on her heel. “Oh whatever,” said the giant, over her shoulder and in a more normal tone. “I’ll be in the conservatory. Come fight me if you want my stuff.”

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The giant retreated through a door on the left. Beyond, Joan could make out greenery. She peered round the table leg and narrowed her eyes. As a druid and former tree, she was comfortable around plants. A fight in a conservatory sounded promising. Or it was just a trap. An ambush. Joan patted herself down, making sure she knew the location of all her weapons, heaved a sigh of her own and padded through the door.

The giant’s conservatory might have well been a jungle. An enormous chair sat next to an enormous table, on which rested a barrel sized cup of steaming tea. Somewhere, high above, sunlight sparkled in through crystal windows, defused by the many leaves. In the distance a fountain was tinkling. It would all have been very pleasant if not for the promise of violence that hung in the air like the rank scent of decomposing fungus. The giant was nowhere in sight.

Actually that wasn’t true. Over to the left Joan saw two suspiciously leg shaped tree trunks that ended in enormous shoes, half-hidden behind a section of palms. At least the giant didn’t seem too bright. But where was the bush? Joan’s gaze passed over the various ornamental trees and flowers and came to rest in the centre of the room. On a small raised platform, resting in solitary splendour, was an extremely mundane looking bush. Attractive in its way but in no way magical looking. It was also a camelia, with waxy, oval leaf shapes and frilly petals -- a decoy then. Cathbit had told her to look for a rose-like plant with large, pink buds. The leaves would be arranged in opposition, the leaves less shiny. In fact, just like the bush that was set down next to the window, in a dull looking brown clay.

What do I need? thought Joan at the bush. A hand axe, I wish for a hand axe.

Across the room, the Bush of Many Ways quivered. Joan smiled. A pink bud formed, and before Joan’s very eyes, blossomed. The delicate petals opened. In the blossom’s heart was a tiny, perfectly formed axe which fell onto the floor with a tinkle. The toy axe grew, popping up and out, until it was full size. Well, full sized for a human. It worked! Joan tried to keep her excitement under control as possibilities exploded in her brain.

“Hey,” boomed the giant, the leaves shaking in the wind. “You can’t use it before you’ve stolen it!”

“Why not?” asked Joan, poised to move.

“That’s cheating!”

“If it was cheating I wouldn’t be able to do it!”

The giant’s feet twitched, hesitating. Joan stole forward, muscles bunched.. What did she need? Back up? A distraction? She wished hard. A second pink bud formed on the bush. It popped open to reveal a perfect miniature canon – in fact, a demi-cannon, just like Joan had had on her ship, long, long ago, during her first life. She contemplated it with pleasure and that moment of nostalgia nearly cost her a life.

The giant lifted her foot, swinging her leg, smashing into plants and shrubs. The cannon fell onto the floor with a heavy thunk, grew to full size and exploded with a roar. Unfortunately was pointed completely the wrong way to do any damage to the giant. Instead it merely shattered on the glass windows and flew out the window, dropping into the sky.

“Oops,” said Joan. “That’s gonna hurt.”

She plunged into the foliage, narrowing avoiding the swing of the giant’s club as it whistled through the air a hairsbreadth above her head. She wished, and managed to roll to safety. Behind her, the Bush of Many Ways exploded into bud. Please, please, please, be more useful, thought Joan. The giant roared, and lifted her club, smacking it down in the space Joan had just vacated.

Three pink buds burst open. Toy-sized elven archers plopped onto the floor, each one dressed in combat green and hefting an iron-tipped crossbow. The elves grew, shot up and out until they were as tall as Joan. The three brand new elven archers stared at each other, confusion writ large across their faces.

“What--” said one of them.

“Where are we?” said the second.

“I don’t like this,” said the third.

The giant turned and saw them. She lifted her club.

“Get her lads!” Joan screamed at the befuddled archers. “Shoot the giant!”

Their eyes widened as they beheld the giant. They fired as one, peppering the giant’s legs with bolts. The giant let out a roar and rushed forwards. CRASH CRASH CRASH. Her steps were slow and lumbering but she was like a force of nature, scattering trees and furniture in her wake. More of the windows shattered behind Joan.

“Run!” shouted Joan, and they scattered, terror warring with confusion.

The giant caught the closest elf in her meaty fist and threw him bodily against the wall. His wail ended with a sickening, wet splat. His broken body slumping to the ground, leaving a dripping crimson stain.

Joan went for the axe, grabbing it in a rolling dive. The handle was warm oak, and reassuring to grasp. She stuffed it into her waistband and leapt away, drawing the giant’s attention away from two remaining elves who were staring in horror at the crumpled body of their brother. The giant turned towards her and Joan ran, sprinting as fast as she could through the many plants, and leaping out of the way of the incoming foot. She avoided it. Just.

“Shoot again!” she cried at the elves. They did, this time the bolts went wide. “Reload! Shoot! Keep doing it, don’t wait for me to – gah!”

The giant twisted, and swept low with her club. Joan dove for the ground as it whistled overhead. The hairs moved on her head as she watched it pass overhead, flat on her back. Half the trees were decapitated, and one of the two remaining elves. Joan felt guilt pool in her stomach, but there was no time for regret. The third, and last elf, stood his ground as the rampaging giant lumbered towards him. Sweat trickling down his brow, as he aimed, and a shot. It hit the giant in her left eye, and she bellowed, loud enough to shake the castle, and the remaining glass. She stumbled backwards, clawing at the bloody shaft that was buried deep.

Joan thought quickly, and counted under her breath. She had made five wishes (if the three elves counted as three). This would be her sixth. And hopefully her last. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing. Against the wall, the Bush of Many Ways produced a great, bulging bloom, the biggest yet.

Taking advantage of the giant’s agony, Joan rushed forward. She grabbed the Bush of Many Ways with one hand, and the elf’s hand. She towed him towards the exit.

The giant pulled the bolt from her eye which was now a streaming ruin, blood and gore dripping down her face.

“Not so fast!” she screamed. The elf made a gurgling noise of terror, as she crashed towards them. Joan whipped around, setting down the pot. The last pink bud popped open, and a human figure fell to the ground. Joan didn’t wait to see what happened, instead grabbing the pot and fleeing once more, pushing elf forward.

Behind them the tiny figure grew. First to the size of a toddler, then to a fully grown human, up and up it shot, until its head brushed the ceiling of the giant’s conservatory. The body exploded upwards and outwards, in a rush of muscle and sinew until a fully formed male giant stood in the doorway, blinking in confusion.

The female giant skidded to a stop, staring. She let out a primal roar and lunged. They went down in tangle of enormous limbs and flying fists. The resulting crash rattled the castle to the very bone. Joan and the elf were flung into the air by the impact.

“Come on!” Joan cried, hauling him up, “Let’s go!”

They fled on shaking legs across the vestibule, the walls rocking and cracking behind them as the giants fought. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling.

“Quickly!” said Joan, and she stuffed the bemused elf through the gap at the bottom of the castle door, handing him the magical bush, and crawling through after him.

They raced down the steps, as part of the castle collapsed behind them. Once more they were thrown forwards, a cloud of dust and debris whooshing over their heads. Joan lost her grip and the Bush of Many Ways rolled towards the clouds edge.

Joan snatched it, and clutching it to her breast, crawled forwards on her hands and knees. Whimpering, the elf followed her. She didn’t blame him. The noise was horrendous. Blood curdling yells filled the air. Shouts and impacts, flesh on flesh and screams as loud as lightning strikes rattled in their ears as the castle fell to rubble, piece by piece.

“Come on!” said Joan, dragging the elf up. “We need to get out of here.” She pointed to the top of the beanstalk, and prodded his chest. “Hang on! Don’t look down! Climb as fast as you can! Go! Go!”

“You are mad,” said the elf. “You are mad. I don’t like this life.”

“Nonsense,” said Joan. “What do you know you’ve just been made! Go!” He hesitated. “It gets better!” she said, urgently, “I promise! Get go, and you will get the chance to see!”

Looking doubtful he climbed onto the vine and started down. It was much harder going down than it had been going up. Adrenaline thundering in her ears, and climbing one handed, Joan was more likely to make mistakes. Clutching the bush in its fat, clay pot, tucked under one arm made it difficult indeed, and the beanstalk swayed and shook with the castle above. Joan’s hands were slick with sweat. The elf moaned softly under his breath, but kept going.

The climb seemed to take forever. But at long last they could see the rooftops of the fairy city once more, and the spires of the recently deposed fairy queen’s castle.

“Nearly there,” shouted Joan.

Suddenly, the noise from above stopped. Silence spread once more across the sky, and the world was peaceful. “That’s a relief,” breathed the elf, smiling up at her. “That’s so much better, you were right!”

Joan swallowed, looking up the way they had come. An enormous boot appeared out of the clouds, torn and bloodstained.

“Go! Go!” she shouted. “Don’t stop! As fast as you can!”

“Wh-”

The beanstalk was yanked violently to one side. The elf nearly went flying. Joan clung on with her fingertips. The elf stared at her with bulging eyes, his arms wrapped around the stem of a massive leaf.

“It's awful,” he whispered, and for one horrible moment Joan thought he was going to jump into the void of the sky.

“No!” said Joan. “It’s exciting! And it's going to end soon, and then it will just be nice things. You are not going to die. I promise. But climb now!”

To her relief he started to climb, slipping and sliding and she hurried after him, cutting her hands in her haste.

At last the ground was in sight.

Joan jumped the last couple of metres, landing heavily. She shoved the pot into the elf’s hands and whipped out her axe. Breathing deeply, she swung, the blade biting deep into the vine. Again, and again she hacked at the fleshy stem. Looking up, she could see the giant now. Whack. Whack. One mammoth foot was descending with agonising slowness through the clouds, crushing the vine to pulp.

She hefted the axe putting all her remaining strength into the blow. Whack. The beanstalk started to tilt.

“Again!” shouted the elf, hopping up and down on his toes, punching the air with his fists. She swung. WHACK. The last few connecting vines ripped apart, and the beanstalk fell with a groaning roar.

It landed on the earth, sprawling for miles, so big it crushed everything in its path. The giant fell likewise with a roar that shattered the heavens. She fell with a cacophonous THUMP and lay, face down in the mud and unmoving.

[ding! Quest complete! You have stolen the Bush of Many Uses +50XP]

[ding! Quest complete! You have slain the Giant +25XP]

“Oh thank goodness,” said Joan. Her cheeks were a little damp, as she wiped her face with the back of one sweaty hand.

“That was exciting,” said the elf. “You were right.”

“Come on,” said Joan. “Let me introduce you to your new life. It gets better from here on out.”

“Thank the dungeon,” he said. He was looking around at the fairy city with wide eyes. Fairies and pixies had come out of their houses to exclaim at the giant, and the beanstalk. Mercifully it had not fallen on any buildings.

Stopping off to loot the giant [She had 50 gold coins in her pocket, a scarf that would make an excellent blanket for a normal sized person, and a turnip] Joan and the elf walked back to Cathbit’s shop.

It took them a while because the new elf kept stopping to look at things and exclaiming. Joan didn’t really blame him. His existence was her fault after all. But she was tired with such bone weary tiredness she knew she needed to sleep for a week.

She pushed open the bright green door of the Alchemist’s Shop and deposited the Bush of Many Ways on the counter, before collapsing in an old velvet chair. Cathbit rushed over, squealing. He clasped the pot with two adoring hands, and inhaled the plant's scent with quivering nostrils.

“Eww,” said the new elf. He leaned over to Joan. “Is that normal behaviour?” She shrugged.

“You did it!” said Cathbit. “You actually did it! You killed the giant! Oh, my morning glories, praise the sun!” he looked sideways at her, taking in her bloodstained clothes and torn robes. “A close thing I take it?”

Joan shrugged, again, too tired to make inane small talk.

“This is–'' Joan looked at the elf, who looked back quizzically. “What would you like to be called?” she asked. Cathbit quirked one eyebrow. “I made him,” she explained. “Would you be so kind as to train him up to be your new shop assistant? And, you know, teach him how to be alive?”

“Ah! I see,” said Cathbit, “hello, sir, and welcome to the dungeon.”

“Bean,” said the new elf.

“What?” said Cathbit.

“You can call me Bean,” said Bean. “Bean Joanson.”

“Well, you are not really my – oh never mind.” said Joan. “Good name. Congratulations, Bean.”

The door slammed open. Everyone jumped as an arrow bolt thudded into the doorframe.

“It’s fine, Bean,” said Joan, soothingly. “No one wants to kill you here. Probably.”

The two satyr thugs who had accompanied Taliesin, peered around the doorframe.

“Don’t shoot!” one of them shouted. “We bring news.”

“Come in!” yelled Cathbit, “But mind your manners.” He grinned at Bean, who sat down in a chair, looking confused. “We are going to get on very well, Bean,” he said. “If you look under that counter you’ll find some chocolate. I suggest you eat it while I talk to these fellows.” He raised his voice, and turned back to the satyrs. “If you are here to claim the shop for Taliesin,” he declared in ringing tones, “you can tell the black-hearted arsehole the giant is dead! And Fedelma will be coming back to work for me! At least I hope she will, as soon as I ask her! Ha! So take that!”

“Lord Taliesin is dead,” announced one of the satyrs. “He was mysteriously killed by a falling metal ball, not one hour past! It just plummeted out of the sky, and hit him on the head! He was dead on impact! Some say it was a sign! A sign of the dungeon’s displeasure!”

“Oh, wow,” said Cathbit.

“How strange,” said Joan, getting up and wiping off her trousers. “Anyway. It’s been fun. Bean, nice to meet you and good luck, sorry about your friends. I had best be going, Cathbit, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

She held out her hands.

Silently Cathbit handed her Recipes for Healing, Health and Revenge, and a giant bag of ingredients.

Joan waved goodbye and strode out of the shop with a grin.

Joan of Snark Level 8

Class: Druid ♥♥♥ ♥♥♥ ♥♥♥

XP: 792

HP: 224/224 [+ 1 Mildly Scandalous Knickers + 1 Sensible Bra+ 1 teaspoon + 5 Iron Dagger + 15 Weathered Druid’s Stave +5 Nice Druid’s Robe] x8

Bonus: x8 HP Bonus, Identify (LVL 2)

+4 Firemaking

+7 Cooking

+9 Herbalism

+ 4 Sneaking

+3 Lockpicking

+1 Charisma

+7 Potion Making