Total Settlement Destruction: 22.8%

Remaining oomukade [35 / 70]

Percent vanquished: 50%

As the last centipede fell, I whooped loudly, flicking the dark ichor from my blades and pushing on through the hallway of the jailhouse.

The inside of the place was a wreck: broken furniture, gouged or missing sections of wall and floor, and blood—so much blood. Most of the gore belonged to the corpses of the oomukade that had had the misfortune of coming across me. It wasn’t a brag. Outside—with plenty of space—they were proper terrors, having the unrestricted freedom to flail, bite, and scurry around all menacing-like. Inside, however, was a different story.

I’ll admit, when I first entered, I’d gotten the snot jostled out of me for a minute. However, despite not giving Frida her deserved response earlier, I had taken her words to heart. She’d said I should focus on what I was proficient in, so I decided to lend some weight to that idea. Outside, I was in constant danger of fucking myself over with my uncoordinated slapdashery. But, in this environment…well, I could be a bit more of a bump in the night.

The interior of the building was dark, which allowed me ample opportunity to possess the shadows like a phantom, tapping into my Sneak Skill in a way I didn’t know was possible until now. When I first clambered into the jail, I didn’t know what I was doing. However—as previously established—taking a few opening licks from the baddies jarred me into a sense of “fuck this bullshit, for real,” and I had to improvise. Sneak was a B-Rank Level 4 Skill jumped-up very swiftly from my incredibly long and very painful accidental Slip-n-Slide past a fat lot of soldiers in a militia camp. It had been objectively hilarious but also a little frightening, considering the Redmark were full of elite-level ragamuffins. I’d only used Sneak sparingly up until now, as most of my fights involved huge cavernous rooms without much cover. This was different.

Without light, the corners, hallways, and other tight spaces turned every encounter with the enormous beasts into a meat grinder—and I was the king of the butchers. Bone, muscle, flesh, and sinew were transformed into mist as I peppered the monsters with attacks from every perceivable angle with my blade. In my haste to rescue whichever one of my unlucky fellow boxcar children had gotten themselves ensnared by the local authorities, I was forced to actually utilize the tools at my disposal. It wasn’t what I’d initially envisioned for myself when I arrived, but I would lean into it for the sake of brevity. And wouldn’t you know? It turned out just aces. By the time I finished my enthusiastic massacre, it had looked more like the inside of a knife wound than the hallway of a jailhouse.

The guards—if there’d ever been any—had abandoned the imprisoned to their fates, presumably to help defend Tallrock from attacks. This was my assumption anyway, considering I didn’t see any roughly-humanoid dead that weren’t prisoners. Unfortunately, several of the poor bastards had already been devoured by the bug monsters by the time I’d arrived. Partially-eaten bodies were splayed out inside their cells or dragged from them, the bars wrenched and twisted to form oomukade-sized snacking holes. With a sense of macabre relief, I knew that none of them was who I was here for. This was because despite refusing to tell me the identity of the sojourner trapped here, the woman had told me their pen was on the second floor.

So, after Loon’s Hallway of Consequences, I moved up the stairs to the second floor. I was intent on making this a quick little errand so I could get back to the water tower with enough time to get a single punch in. The moment I stepped into the hallway, though, I noticed things were different. First, orbs of amber light dotted the wall near the ceiling at even intervals, giving the area a cozy allure. This made it look more like the entryway of a day spa than the upper floor of a barracks. Second, I could see several large shadows stretching from around a corner to the left. But they weren’t moving. Either the oomukade were frozen in fear, or something else entirely was waiting for me once I hung around the bend. I thought about this.

Mindless centipede monsters were one thing—they could be duped or circumvented quickly enough. But, something that knew I was here would require a different tactic than usual. So far, my experience in this world had not allowed me much time to plan or reflect, and I’d just been chiefly reacting to whatever challenge revealed itself. This was, of course, super badass, considering I was still alive and had only died once. Apparently, we sojourners were able to expire at an incredible rate and still be brought back to life. But my whole motif was different because of making my unintentional deal with Pontivex—a creature that looked like a demon but acted like he was a judge on The Great British Bake Off.

Alright, I thought. There’s a few of them, and if they aren’t those fucking murder worms, they’re at least as big as ‘em. The hallway is the same size, so I can still do some fancy footwor—

I was interrupted mid-thought by a voice.

“So, what’s the plan then, eh? Gonna sit around and stare at us with them threatening insects?”

Insects? So… it is the centipedes. Or maybe another kind of monster that is also a bug? Or a secret third thing. Who’s that gabbing, though? Is this the person I’m supposed to rescue?

I hated not being privy to the party. Still, if there was some fuckery stewing, I was definitely interested in sticking my beautiful orcish nose into the soup. I found that, in life, you learned your best bits of juicy hot goss’ while dropping eaves. So, endeavoring to do just that, I slipped forward silently—haladie at the ready—and snuck up to the end of the hallway.

“You’ll just need to pipe down in there, my friend,” another voice returned. This one was friendly and male, sounding closer to my location than the other. “Unless, of course, you want to wind up lining the bellies of these stately chaps here. Just sit quietly, if you’d only be so kind. You’re likely to stress the poor things to ulcerative malcontent.”

“Pah!” Returned the original speaker. “You should hope that I stay talking, shrimp. If I’m talking, I’m still friendly. Let me out, and I’ll show you exactly how unfriendly I can be.”

“My, that is quite the endorsement for not releasing you if I’ve ever heard one,” the friendly voice said. “Alas. I don’t believe I’ll be doing so—my apologies. I’m here for someone else, but perhaps the next dwarf intent on springing a wretch from the clink will take pity on you?”

“Afraid, are you? Pah! I don’t blame you. Who are you breaking out of here? The elf girl? You lecherous bastard! But, I suppose I don’t blame you for that neither.”

I snuck a glance around the corner to see what I was dealing with. It turned out I was right about the oomies—sorta. Two of the beasts clogged up the walkable area of the passage, nearly as tall as the ceiling. They were different from the others, though. Rather than the pale spectrum of color I’d grown accustomed to, these centipedes were varying dark hues. Mostly black. Rather than barbs on the ends of their appendages, they had broad, flat scythe-like blades. Another uncomfortable difference was that rather than white horror faces pressed into their segmented bodies, theirs were crimson. However, they still had the eyeless sockets rimmed in black eyeliner.

What the actual shit? I thought. What fresh new hellspawn are these? As if the classic version wasn’t gross enough, they went and made some limited-release repulsive monstrosities.

These extra goth editions weren’t moving, just standing there as if waiting to see how this interaction would go down. Worse yet, they flanked a smaller figure—presumably the friendly speaker. This had the effect of making him seem a lot less wholesome than his tone indicated.

He was a dwarf—that much had been easy to figure out from context clues—with silver ringlets of hair and a short beard that was neatly trimmed. He wore what might have been considered fancy clothes if they weren’t so wrinkled and dirty. This, combined with how he spoke, gave off the vibe of a sleazy salesman, like the kind of guy manning one of those novelty t-shirt kiosks at the mall. Based on the two giant mountains of evidence on either side of him, it was clear this guy was the ringleader of this batshit crazy circus. Or heavily involved, at the very least.

I couldn’t see who he was speaking to from this angle, as they were obviously in one of the cells on my side of the hall. But I could see into the ones on the opposite side. It was only now that I realized that the configuration of the drunk tanks on this floor was different from the simpler ones below. These were more complex, with thicker bars and no doors I could see. Along the outside wall to the right of each alcove was what I could only refer to as a magic symbol shimmering with red light. I had to assume this was akin to an arcane lock if that was even a thing? Maybe this floor was where the town kept their bigger, more magical problem children?

The dwarf continued speaking to whoever was in the cage, drawing his lips into a placating smile.

“Oh, I do wish you’d be quieter, friend,” he said. “My affairs are of no concern to you. Just rest in silent repose, and let me be about my business. I’ll only be a moment.’

Then I caught sight of someone in a cell on the opposite side of the hallway as they moved forward to press themselves against the bars of their cage. A woman—elf, it looked like—with a very pale complexion and flowing red hair. She was staring at the dwarf with open disdain as if he’d been the one to put her here. She seemed out of place, and not just in this jail. Something about her didn’t fit with this vibe, but even more importantly, she seemed familiar to me. At first, I thought maybe she reminded me of Ocho, what with the cascade of crimson hair and all—but that wasn’t it. She seemed familiar in a different way. Whatever it was, my gut told me she was the one I was here to rescue. Everybody else was just frosting on a very terrible cake.

“Oh, Miss!” The dwarf bellowed, also taking note of her. “Glad to see you well! I realized I undercharged you for the delicacies I parted with earlier. I was hoping you’d be willing to make up the difference.”

She continued to scowl at him but didn’t say anything.

Well, they obviously have a history. Maybe he really did get her arrested?

“Not an opportune moment, then?” The dwarf continued, undeterred. “Pity. Ah, well. Perhaps another time. You do seem awfully occupied for now. I’ll tell you what—write me upon your release, and I’ll gladly swing back here and retrieve the coin you owe.”

The elf woman seemed to be quaking with rage, something I knew a lot about. She opened her mouth. Then she looked as though she couldn’t find the words and shut it again.

Ah, shit, I thought. She’s catatonically angry. Nothing worse than being so mad you can’t think straight enough to respond.

Really, when experiencing a fury of that magnitude, it was like trying to suck the words out of your brain with a straw. Whatever he’d intended with his cutting words had apparently been wildly successful.

“However, I am not here for you either, as I am sure you’re upset by. We did have such a wonderful rapport if I recall. A more robust shame doesn't exist. But, unfortunately, there’s only one empty seat on this escape carriage, and it has already been claimed by another.”

“You’d do well to leave her be, dwarf,” the first voice said, finally reappearing after a few moments of silence. “It’s one thing to mock me—your little flowery speech isn’t uncouth enough to rattle my cage. But she isn’t bothering nobody. So, either unfetter me so I can fill your orifices with silverfire or get out of here and let us prisoners enjoy our dutiful reprimand.”

I couldn’t figure out why this dwarf was standing around, taunting and teasing people, either. If he had some great deed to accomplish, it didn’t make sense to bully folks who couldn’t fight back. Power trip much? He and his two monstrous goons were giving me the creeps the longer they loitered, and unfortunately, I was trying to be cautious for once.

“I’ll make an ironclad promise that I won’t be bandying here longer than I have to be, my friend. Trust me on that. I just need to wait for—”

“Asshole.”

It was the elf. She’d finally managed to say something, and though it was quiet and shaky, she’d done it.

Get it, girl.

Everything was still for a moment. The dwarf turned back to her and tilted his head.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” he said. “But, did you say something?”

“I said…” she managed, rage still choking her. “You’re…amotherfuckingasshole.”

The last part came out in a rush as if she’d had to will it to happen, and it had all come out at once. The dwarf seemed like he had a response, but now that the clot was unclogged, she was flowing freely. Her next words streamed out of her like there was a hole in her brain.

“I can’t believe you charged me for your stupid fucking gross, shitty fucking pies and got me thrown in fucking jail. You asshole. You’re an asshole. You stupid fucking shit-ass, dumb son of a fucking bitch. Fuck you…ass. You…asshat. Fuck you to death, fucker—and fuck your mom. Fuck your grandma. You assholey…asshole bitch. You dumb fucking fuck. FUCK!”

Damn, she was goin’ off. She’d punctuated her curse word hurricane with a final swear so full of exasperation that I felt terrible for her. Being pissed was clearly not in her wheelhouse—nor her lexicon. But, as a connoisseur of foul language, I was actually kind of impressed. She lacked finesse and complexity, but she more than made up for it with the sheer volume of expletives she’d managed to vomit up in such a short amount of time.

“Wow. That was…” breathed the unknown occupier of the other cell. “You…uh, alright in there, gal? I’m not a virgin to that sort of language, but, uh…well, wow.”

The dwarf cleared his throat.

“You’re clearly navigating quite a trying time in there, so I’ll ignore—”

“Shut the hell up!” The woman snapped, jabbing a finger in the dwarf’s direction. “You got me thrown in here. You are going to get me out. You’re obviously fucking waiting around for some dumb, shitty…thing, so…maybe…”

She let out a growl.

“Agh! Just…fucking…get me the fuck out of here!”

The dwarf dropped his hands, seeming to consider her request. However, an instant later, his head snapped to attention as if at a dog whistle only he could hear. A smile crossed his face. Then he apparently caught himself and plastered over it with a mask of concern.

“Oh. Unfortunately, Miss, that will have to wait. It appears that my time in this cesspool has come to an end. As jolly as my company here is, I have a duty to attend to, and I’ll not miss my very narrow window to achieve my ends.”

“What are you talking—”

The mystery prisoner had begun to speak but was interrupted by the screech of the two dark oomukade. It was at the moment a notification appeared.

Quest Update!

[Mission Quest] A Multi-pronged Assault

The Settlement Resource [Water Tower] has been reached by the oomukade horde! This is considered exceptionally good if you are an oomukade but very, very bad if you are anything but. Because Tallrock failed to defend this portion of the Quest, consequences will be administered. However, new Priorities have been unlocked:

Stop the oomukade queen from reaching Settlement Resource [Water Tower] and laying her eggs.

The way is cleared for Her Majesty to make her way through the settlement. She brings along her oldest children. Congratulations, this [C-Rank] Mission has advanced to [B-Rank] and therefore has more significant consequences upon failure.

New Defense Priorities:

Keep Total Settlement Destruction (TSD) below 70% TSD: 27.1% Stop the oomukade queen from reaching Settlement Resource [Water Tower] Kill 100% of the invading oomukade Remaining oomukade [115/150] Percent vanquished: 23.3%

[Updated] Quest Reward: Reputation, Additional Reward(s)

They failed.

The realization hit me like a ton of dicks, and it was honestly a little terrifying.

Did the bugs just get past their defenses? Was it too overwhelming, and they had to fall back?

Then another thought festered through my brain, and my stomach fell.

Were they dead?

No. I could still feel the party's connection through whatever vague sense I had. So, they were still alive, but I could tell they were weakened. Whatever they’d been dealing with over there was obviously pretty difficult.

I need to go to them!

That was equally stupid at the moment. There was some certified fuckery happening right here in front of me, and I knew I had to rescue my fellow extraterrestrial. My companions were all the way across town; besides, they were all higher Level than I was. If I raced to them, I’d only be in a big hurry to get to my funeral. As much as it sucked, it wasn’t over: they were still alive. Not like…

I shook my head.

Focus, thick-head. Focus.

I needed to figure out a way of getting that elf lady outta there without involving myself in whatever bizarre soap opera was being reenacted in this hallway. I switched my fixation to the dwarf, but he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. I craned my neck around the corner to see him marching down the hallway toward a cell at the end, the oomukade trailing behind. He raised a hand, holding up a…was that a fucking wand?

I’m so sick of wizards.

The dwarf gestured with the stick and shouted something in a language I didn’t recognize. Bright light burst out of the tip like an over-exuberant virgin. It filled the passageway with blinding pink magical energy, and I winced. When the illumination faded, the cell door that had once been sealed was open, looking as though something had wrenched it free from its hinges. From the arcane smoke stepped a large figure.

He was a tower of muscle as tall as the doorframe he ducked beneath. A shaggy mane of gray-black hair fell to his shoulders, and dark eyes peered out from behind the curtain of bangs covering his face. Weeks, or maybe months, of scruff covered his face, split by a smile much too charming to belong to a person who looked like a deranged anime supervillain. I mean, he wasn’t even wearing a shirt.

Is this the fucking bug mommy?

“Woah! Look at the pecks on that guy!” Said the prisoner that I couldn’t see. “What are you, part gorilla?”

“It’s good to see you, Velton,” the now ex-prisoner intoned, his voice rich and strangely stately as if he hadn’t just spent at least a fortnight in the slammer. His tone reminded me of a debonair noble who spent his nights out-womanizing Casanova and not at all like what he appeared: Jack the Ripper’s bodybuilding cousin.

“I apologize, Rafe. We can exchange pleasantries afterward, but we’ve a need to make haste. Our timetable is limited by—”

“The monster queen,” Rafe—apparently—finished for him. “I know. I saw the message. You’ll have to tell me sometime how you managed to take control of them.”

“I promise to explain it in most ample detail once we are clear of this town,” Velton, the dwarf, said. “For now…”

He gestured to the oomukade flanking him once more.

“You’re not suggesting that we ride these?” Rafe asked, sounding more amused than disturbed.

“Any port in a storm, Mister Crowmoon,” Velton said hurriedly. “Now, shall we…”

He’d trailed off as Rafe—fuckin’—Crowmoon stepped past him toward the other prisoners. What a goddamned name, though. It was the edgy sorta moniker an eight-year-old would give the bad guy when playing with his action figures.

“Rafe?” Velton asked.

“You gonna let us out?” Asked the person I couldn’t see. “I’d be in your debt if you did, considering I’ve got a whole lot of things to do. You know, business…et cetera. Your dwarf friend was really rude about it. Vulgar, even. Though I can tell you’re the real intelligence behind this operation, Mister Crowmoon.”

Crowmoon tilted his head to the side as if planning to ask an important question. But then just smiled and shook his head.

“Oh…afraid it’s too late for that,” the giant man said. “You’ve heard names, as well as other pertinent information. Unfortunately, we’ll have to make sure you never leave this place. I’m genuinely very sorry.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. Was I going to have to fight this guy? The prospect seemed insane, considering he looked like he could push a needle through a tractor engine with his fingertips. I mean, I would. I’d fucking die—but I’d do it.

“Pah! Just try it, scum!” The voice shot back virulently—was that the right word? Angrily? Whatever—he was defiant. “Unlock this cell, and I’ll zap your shriveled bits into butterfly food!”

I had to hand it to the prisoner dude: he was plucky, whoever he was. I could admire that.

Crowmoon chuckled.

“Damn,” he sighed. “Now I’m really going to feel bad about it. You're a hoot. It seems like you're a great time.”

“I am a great time!” The voice continued. “Having one too! Open her up and find out for yourself! Don’t be fooled by the arcane seal on this cage; I’m angry death in a sweater vest.”

I knew I’d need to engage, but this new dude was built like a battering ram with abs and was at least a foot taller than me. Taking him down would be tricky, but I was notorious for outmaneuvering even the diciest of circumstances. …Wasn’t I?

I’ve just gotta wait ‘til he turns his back, I thought. Then I’ll use my badass sneakery to sidle up behind him and cap his ass.

Quickly, I glugged down the potion that Frida had given me, then stuffed the bottle back into my pack. My Health immediately shot back up to a comfortable level. I sighed.

I gotta start preparing better.

“Sorry,” Crowmoon said, looking genuinely apologetic. “But, as I said: you fine folk can’t leave. I’ll have to kill you.”

Then he did something that stopped my heart in its sexy tracks: he flashed a glance right at me. He smiled wide.

“All of you.”