Orb

“Alright, nice and slow, Bleedy. Nice and slow. We do not want to get caught here,” Orb said.

Orb sat atop Bleedy’s head as the racooneever slowly crept through the bushes toward the cultist camp. They had suspected that the cult would move quickly after Merlin lured them out. They hadn’t anticipated the cult would arrive the following night. Suddenly, it was go time.

Orb swiveled on Bleedy’s head to take it all in. At the center of the camp, a large fire roared. The firewood crackled and a faint scent of smoke wafted through the night. Not far from it, a series of dark red tents were lined up beside one another. Cultists really seemed to like the color red for some reason.

The cultists were working hard to prepare for the journey into the dungeon. They worked by torchlight as they moved throughout their camp. Some of them packed supplies, food, weapons, and first aid, among other things. Others stood guard and watched the camp’s perimeter. A few of the guards stood on either side of a tent entrance. This tent looked much more extravagant than the others. Orb wondered if that meant someone important was inside.

“That must be where their leader is. I wonder if it’s that Od guy from Hilda’s village. That bald cultist that Merlin made a deal with and then immediately betrayed. Remember him?”

Bleedy nodded. “Bald.”

“I hope it’s him. We’re all a lot stronger than before. We’d totally kick his butt this time.”

“Blue?” Bleedy said.

Orb bounced in the air and landed back on Bleedy’s head with a thump. “Yes, even me! I’m stronger! Isn’t it obvious? I’ve come a long way since then.”

“Blue.”

“Oh whatever,” Orb said. “Hey what’s that?” At first, he’d mistaken the cart for just another tent. But upon further inspection, he noticed the large wooden wheels that held it up. It was smaller than Marvin’s wagon, but some kind of blanket had been draped over it, so he couldn’t see for sure. The blanket rippled as something inside rippled against it.

“Did you see that?” Orb asked.

“Bleedy!” Bleedy responded.

“It was not the wind. There isn’t any wind right now,” Orb said. He watched the blanket move again. “See! There is definitely something inside. We should check it out just to be safe. It’s too suspicious to ignore.”

“Baby!”

“I know, Charlie said to be careful. Don’t worry, I’ve got this. If you go strolling through their camp, the guards will notice. But I can easily get around the guards. I’m a sneaky dungeon core ninja. I’ll be back before you know it,” Orb said. He floated off Bleedy’s head. He paused when he noticed how muddy the racooneever’s feet were. That gave him an idea. “Hey, cover me in mud really quick! It’ll help me blend it.”

A minute or two later, Orb rolled right into camp. His ball of dirt disguise was perfect for the occasion. Between blending in with the ground and the dark of night, rolling through the camp undisturbed was a simple matter. It took under a minute to reach his goal. Up close, he realized what exactly was under the blanket. A cage. He could just barely see the bars peeking out from the fabric. Orb spun quickly to ensure no one was looking. When he was confident he had an opening, he floated up and under the blanket to inspect what the cage was housing.

“What the hell?” he said.

The creature didn’t notice him at first. It was humanoid, but it certainly wasn’t human. It was a little over four feet from what Orb could tell. The creature had dark blue skin and moved erratically, as if it wasn’t fully in control of its body. It shuffled around the cage, occasionally swatting a hand to strike the blanket. What was even odder was that the creature was wearing clothes. Well, pants at least.

“What the heck, is it some kind of zombie or something?” Orb wondered. He knew he should be careful not to draw attention to himself, but he needed to know what they were dealing with. It was his job to investigate the camp and scout out what exactly they’d be facing. His job wasn’t complete if he didn’t at least try to figure out what exactly this creepy creature was.

“Hello? Hey ugly, can you hear me?” he asked it. He wasn’t used to communicating with strangers telepathically, but short of growing a mouth, it was his only option.

The creature didn’t react at first. Orb bounced in frustration. “I get it. There are lots of ugly cultists in the camp, so you aren’t sure if I’m talking to you or not. No one wants to make a fool of themselves by responding to a stranger who may or may not be talking to them. But in this case I can assure you, you’re the ugly in question. So don’t be shy. Let’s talk.” Orb floated forward until he was parallel with the cage bars.

The creature turned and shot towards him. A horrid growl escaped its throat as it lunged. Orb shot back. He only narrowly dodged the creature’s fingers. That was a close one.

“Yikes! Another inch and I’d be a zombie snack! Or…whatever you are.” Orb could see the creature’s ribcage. It had a few strands of dry, gray strands of hair on its head. “I’ve gotta go, but I’m going to send you my skincare routine. You should probably consider a hair mask as well. It’s giving stray dog vibes.”

The creature lunged again. Its arm protruded through the cage; its body smashed against the bars. The rotting creature let out a loud, guttural roar.

If it was intelligent, there wasn’t any sign of it.

“What was that? Why’s it freaking out?” one of the guards called out.

“Hey look, why is the blanket sticking out like that? Do you think it’s stuck in the bars or something?” A different guard asked this time.

Crap. Orb was floating just beyond the reach of the creature, but in doing so he was pressing against the blanket and causing it to jut outward awkwardly. He plummeted through the air and quickly took refuge under the wagon’s bottom. He hid behind one of the wheels.

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From this angle, he could only watch as several pairs of cultists legs approached. Their voices dropped to a whisper.

“What do you think upset it?”

“I don’t know. It normally doesn’t make much noise when it can’t see outside. I hope it quiets down on its own. I really don’t want to have to feed it again.”

What the heck were they talking about? He’d wish they’d come out and say what the creature actually was. Why had they brought it? Were they going to sick that thing loose in the dungeon? This was like bad tv. Come on, the audience wants to know!” he thought. This whole situation was bad vibes all around. He didn’t know what was going on, and he didn’t like it.

“Ball?” Bleedy called out telepathically.

“I know they’re surrounding the wagon. It’s fine. I’m hiding out underneath. When it’s clear, I’ll make a break for it. Just give me a second.

“What’s going on?” a voice called out. This one wasn’t like the others. It was the voice of someone with authority. Someone important. On one hand, Orb bet that meant the guy would probably have information that made this whole elaborate ruse worth setting up. On the other, it could mean it was really strong.

“Lord Arroane!” one of the guards called back. There was a hint of panic in his voice. “The creature seemed upset for some reason. We just came over to make sure nothing had disturbed it.”

The camp grew eerily quiet as Arroane approached. His footsteps squelched in the mud. Unlike the cultist, who all wore red robes, Arroane was dressed differently. At least the parts of Arroane he could see. He was wearing boots, and it seemed he had on pants instead of a robe.

“Well? Was it disturbed?” Arroane asked.

Orb could hear the man swallow. “Uh, no sir! It’s fine,” the guard said.

There was a pause before Arroane spoke again. “You checked?”

“Yes sir. I—”

There was a colorful flash of light. A series of gasp followed. The guard who had been speaking with Arroane suddenly stumbled backwards. His legs buckled.

Orb flinched as the man’s body toppled to the ground. His robe splattered in the mud. Only a bleeding stump remained where his head should be.

“How can you possibly check without checking behind the cover?” Arroane’s legs turned to face the other cultist. “I’m not a hard man to please. I understand many of you were reluctant at first to serve under an outsider. But I’ve been fair to you all. In return, I’ve only asked for your service and loyalty. Don’t lie to me. Don’t ever lie to me. That’s where I draw the line.” Arroane’s feet turned back toward the cage above Orb. If Orb had a throat, he’d have gulped.

The fabric whipped in the wind as Arroane pulled it free of its cage. It landed in the mud.

Arroane sighed. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Orb realized he was talking to the creature.

The creature growled in response. There was another strange noise that Orb couldn’t quite make out. “What was that?” he wondered to himself. It was a crunching sound. Several cultists silently took a step backward from the wagon. Others gasped. Some kind of liquid dripped from the cage above. Orb slowly lowered himself to the ground to get a better look.

He realized it was blood.

“Sir…are you alright?” one of the guards asked.

Arroane laughed. “You’ve still got your appetite, so you must be fine. Good.” He turned back to the cultists. “Let him finish eating and then cover the cage back up. He needs rest.” Arroane paused. He knelt and traced a hand along the ground. Long brown hair obscured his face. He was wearing an expensive-looking button-up shirt.

Orb realized two things at that moment. Each one made him increasingly more horrified.

The first thing was that Arroane was missing a part of his arm. It wasn’t a Richard situation. He hadn’t lost it a long time ago. No, Arroane had clearly been the proud owner of an arm only a moment ago. Orb could tell because he was bleeding from an open wound just past where his wrist should be. Had that creature just bitten his hand off?

How the heck was he so casual about it?

But as much as that freaked Orb out, the second thing quickly became the more pressing of the two. Arroane was studying something in the dirt. He was studying the trail Orb and made when he’d rolled up to the cage earlier.

Arroane turned to look where the trail had started. Toward the forests, where Bleedy was waiting. Then he turned to look where the trail ended. Just in front of the cage. Orb had floated from there, so the trail disappeared.

Arroane’s attention suddenly snapped toward the bottom of the cage. Orb shot out of sight and ducked back behind one of the wagon’s wheels. He froze. Had Arroane seen him? Was this the end? He did not want to lose a game of hide and seek to a guy who hadn’t flinched at losing an arm.

Arroane sighed. “It’s getting late. I’m going to rest now. As soon as preparations are finished, all of you should do the same. Wake the next guard shift in an hour. I need everyone fresh for tomorrow.”

“Sir!” the cultists called out in unison.

“That was a close one,” Orb thought. He floated to the opposite end of the wagon and looked out. There were fewer guards this way. This time, he didn’t roll. He shot like a bird from under the wagon as fast as he could. When he reached the edge of the forest clearing and was safely hidden by the trees and their shadows, he circled the camp to return to his scouting partner.

“Blue!” Bleedy said upon his return.

“I know you were worried. Don’t worry. I’m a master spy. Did you see that?” Orb asked.

Bleedy nodded.

Orb floated toward the racooneever and gently landed on his head. “Let’s get back to the others. They’re definitely going to want to hear about this.”

Bleedy nodded and broke off into a run toward the dungeon.

Tomorrow was going to be interesting.

Arroane

The tent was far larger than it had any business being. Especially for a single occupant. The servants had brought a small desk reminiscent of the one from his manor. He even had a bed. It was ridiculous. To go through all this effort for a single night in the woods. They were raiding a dungeon, not camping for fun.

Most people would appreciate how nice this tent was. The space, the decorations, the general comfort. But for him, it was a reminder of just how much had changed. He’d never cared for the finer things in life. Luxury and comfort had never been a priority. These things were thrust upon him. He hated that. They were a reminder of everything he’d lost.

He sighed and reached for a bottle of wine underneath his desk. His hand fell short. He looked down and remembered he’d recently lost it. Arroane rolled his eyes. He should be more careful about things like that. Trying to touch the creature was foolish. He doubted if any of the men outside would get any sleep tonight after seeing that. He grabbed the bottle with his other hand and uncorked it with his teeth. One generous pour later, he was ready to drink himself to sleep. For all his other complaints, at least the wine was good.

He leaned back against his desk chair and took another sip of wine. His eyes fell on what was left of his wounded hand.

The skin was already regrowing. It would be back to normal before he knew it.

“Soon, maybe this hell will be over.” He closed his eyes, and for some reason, he thought of his two oldest friends. If only they were here now. Then maybe things would be different.

He pushed them from his mind.

Tomorrow he was going into that dungeon, and he wasn’t leaving until he got what he wanted.