The skull chattered its jaw again, and the lights in its eyes changed from purple to blue. “As a duly appointed representative of the Grail System, I hereby declare these proceedings closed. Please leave through the door to my right.”
“That’s it?” Bo asked.
“What more do you expect?” the priestess asked, her lips quirked into a bemused grin. “Wizdang has given you a second chance. I’d expect you’re eager to get back to the life you nearly lost.”
And with that, she stood from her chair and followed the fuming Gontar out the door. The devil didn’t look back at Bo as he left, but the human felt the devil’s anger just the same. That was a problem that would come back to bite him in the ass when he least expected it.
Yes, but that is not a problem to dwell on today. The good news is that we no longer have to worry about Gontar turning us into meat puppets for his private pleasures. Your soul is safe, human.
Wizdang approached Bo after the others had gone. He leaned heavily on his cane and looked even older now than before the soul auction began. His eyes peered up into Bo’s, deep and searching.
“I have bet my people’s future on you, Bo Houston,” the gnome said. “I hope your promises aren’t empty, for both our sakes.”
“My word is good,” Bo said. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. If Gontar had gotten his hands on me—”
“I know,” Wizdang said. “He is a terrible beast. Vile creatures like him are the reason there are almost no gnomes left. If you save my people on your world, then perhaps we’ll replenish our numbers and resume our rightful place as traders and craftsmen. If not…well, you won’t be around to witness our rapid extinction.”
Bo wanted to leave the auction chamber and get on with his newly restored life, but he couldn’t help himself. “How did gnomes end up so scarce?”
Wizdang looked a bit embarrassed by the question. He looked away from Bo and sighed. “The Devouring Devils commissioned a magnificent weapon from our master artisans. Imagine a ballista that fires not missiles, but a beam of pure anti-life. A weapon that focused the very powers of decay and dissolution into a transfixing ray of annihilation.”
“That sounds like something you probably shouldn’t have built,” Bo said.
“Well, yes, we know that now,” Wizdang said. “But the Devils were persuasive. Sadly, the weapon malfunctioned. The power source ruptured, and a wave of death scrubbed our entire capital city off the face of creation.”
“You blew yourselves up,” Bo said. “That sucks.”
Wizdang drew himself up to his very unimpressive full height and puffed out his chest. “My people were deceived by the Devouring Devils. We did not know the dangers we would face.”
“I’ve met one of those Devils,” Bo said. He was grateful to the gnome, but he was also irritated because his shins still stung from the little bugger’s cane. “They’re not very impressive. If you got fooled by a bunch of Halloween spooks, your survival instincts must be pretty crap.”
“How did you meet a Devil and live to tell the tale?” Wizdang asked.
“I killed it,” Bo said. “And then it possessed me. Long story. The moral is, I’m still alive, and it’s not.”
That is a very cruel way to put that.
“You’re possessed by one of them?” Wizdang roared. Sparks of magic erupted around his fingers as he twisted his arthritic joints into arcane configurations. “I will destroy you, deceiver!”
Bo jumped off the platform and hoofed it for the door. If the pitmaster didn’t make it before the gnome finished the spell he was casting, his goose was cooked and he knew it.
“Knock it off!” Bo shouted. “I’m the only hope your people have!”
But the gnome was lost in his fury. He leveled both hands at Bo and shouted a single word.
“Die!”
“Screw you, too!” Bo shouted, then dove through the door the skull had created.
The portal slammed behind the pitmaster, and the sound of something frying came from the other side of the door. With a sigh of relief, Bo walked home.
----------------------------------------
“You guys really put one over on the gnomes?” Bo asked as he strode down the stone passage. He’d walked for a few minutes now, and finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Well, starlight, anyway. Night had fallen while he was gone.
I had nothing to do with that. The gnomes are not the sharpest swords in the rack, anyway. You were right: If it wasn’t us, someone else would have convinced them to do something self-destructive. We did the multiverse a favor.
“You shouldn’t refer to attempted genocide as a favor, Barbie,” Bo said. “It freaks people out.”
I am a Devouring Devil. Freaking people out is what I do. Why are you hesitating?
Bo had reached the end of the tunnel but didn’t want to step across the threshold. Being dead wasn’t any fun, but he wanted to relish this relatively painless moment when only his shins hurt. Once he went back to his world, Bo imagined he was in for some serious pain. He deserved another minute of rest before he went back.
We have not been together long, Bo Houston. But you are better than what I was told about humans. You are worthy to wield the champion’s deck.
“Thanks,” Bo said. He was touched by the devil’s unexpectedly kind words.
But you are being a pussy. Go forth. You have enemies to conquer and disgusting gnomes to save.
"Ah, there's the Barbie I know," Bo said. "Thanks for reminding me that you are a complete dick."
You're very welcome. I wouldn't want you to forget that, since you can't remember my name.
"Touché, Barbie doll, touché." Bo said, clenched his teeth, and stepped back into his world.
Resurrection was a jarring experience.
One moment, the pitmaster was upright and walking. The next he was flat on his back, staring up at the two moons in the sky and the countless alien constellations he didn't recognize between them. The pain he'd worried about came back with a vengeance. Every cut, scrape, bruise, and poisoned organ cried out at the same moment. Bo was overwhelmed by a terrible wrenching sensation that seemed to both tear him apart and compress every inch of his body at the same time. Before that uniquely unwelcome sensation passed, the messages flashed before his eyes.
WELCOME BACK TO THE REALM OF THE LIVING!
Wizdang's List
Save the Dingle Gnomes. Assuming, of course, there are any Dingle Gnomes to save. You have yet to see one.
GOAL: Save the Dingle Gnomes from certain destruction.
REWARD: You're no longer dead. I think you've already received your reward.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
PENALTY: If you fail, Wizdang will find you, and he will kill you.
WARNING: There is a potential conflict between this quest and Assert Your Dominance, Part 2. Completing either of these quests may prevent you from completing the other.
ADVERTISING MESSAGES HAVE BEEN SUSPENDED FOR A NOMINAL FEE. YOU MAY TURN THEM BACK ON AT ANY TIME BY OPTING IN FOR PERSONALIZED PRODUCT AND SERVICE RECOMMENDATIONS
The last thing Bo needed in his life was advertisements. That was the one thing from the world before that he didn't miss. The pitmaster got back onto his feet, checked himself for any injuries, and realized that the resurrection had healed him from head to toe. His legs were still pink, though, which was annoying. They had finally filled out, though, which let him discard the makeshift straps he'd used to hold his boots in place.
Loot the grunge elf's body. There’s no telling what goodies he has on him.
"Good call," Bo said. The looming twin moons and blazing stars overhead gave him more than enough light to see by as he rifled through the dead elf's belongings. He started with the corpse's weapons and armor. The wrist-mounted dart thrower was far too small to fit Bo or Slick, but he imagined Jenny wouldn't have any trouble wearing it. He unbuckled its straps and looped the dart holder coiled around the elf's forearm through the weapon's firing mechanism. The device looked a lot like a small crossbow, though its arm was much smaller and made of a stiff, but springy, metal. Bo sat that to the side, along with the elf's sword belt. He retrieved the weapon from where it lay in the trampled dirt and slipped it into the sheath. The slightly curved blade looked sharp and well-balanced, but Bo decided he'd stick with his cleaver. No reason to change what was working.
Removing the elf's armor was a bigger pain in the butt. It was chain mail, and most of the links were smashed into the creature's skin. The armor was light, flexible, and finely made, but it would need a lot of cleaning before anyone would wear it.
With the armor removed, Bo spotted a narrow leather strap fastened around the grunge elf's waist. It held a pouch just large enough to hold a credit-card-sized piece of crystal. Bo held that up to get a better look at the thing in the light, but couldn't make any sense of what it was supposed to be. Symbols that reminded him vaguely of Viking runes, though far more complex, floated just above the crystal's surface. Despite how fragile it looked, the device had survived being trampled by thunder bison, so it had to be pretty sturdy. Bo put the crystal back where he’d found it and tossed the strap onto the mail.
That was all he found on the elf's body, but he wondered if the elf had any cards. As if that thought had summoned them, a trio of magic cards appeared on the elf's chest. Bo snatched them up, worried they'd disappear if he didn't, and examined them.
NEW CARDS FOUND!
Webspinner
TYPE: Power
ACTIVATE: 4S
GENERATE: 3C
POWER: 2
You spew a sticky web from your hand. Don’t ask how. It’s magic. The web immobilizes up to POW targets adjacent to one another for up to STR turns. Targets may break free with an opposed STR resistance.
RARITY: Uncommon
Envenom
TYPE: Heritage
ACTIVATE: 1C
GENERATE: -1C
POWER: 2
You may secrete venom from your salivary glands, like some kind of disgusting animal. Injected venom causes the Poison affliction.
RARITY: Common
Poison
TYPE: Affliction
ACTIVATE: 1C
GENERATE: --
POWER: 3
This card is drawn every turn and must be activated if drawn. If you cannot activate this card, suffer 1 wound level. Remove this card after POW turns."
RARITY: Common
NEW CARDS ADDED TO PERSONAL INVENTORY
Bo wasn’t sure what to make of the cards. The Poison card was an affliction, like the Blind that the hunka hunka angry pork had dropped on him. He couldn’t add that to his deck, not that he’d want to. He didn’t much care for Envenom either. The idea of making poison in his mouth seemed like a solid way to hurt himself or someone else. It would certainly make sharing a beer with Slick more challenging.
Not to mention how it would endanger Jenny.
“What are you talking about?” Bo asked.
You know. If you wanted to kiss her. You’d have poison in your mouth, and—
“Shut up,” Bo said. “Besides, it’s not like I’d activate the card if I wasn’t in combat. It was just a thought. Forget it. I’m not a poison guy.”
But you could be. Spit on your cleaver, stick it in—
“Enough,” Bo said. “No poison. But this Webspinner looks nice. I could use it to hold down bad guys while I jumped away to deal with other bad guys.”
More likely you’d just run away. I don’t recommend that card.
“Which is a good enough reason to add it to my deck,” Bo said, and did so. When he received a confirmation message that the card was part of his deck, and that he now had seven out of a possible ten cards in that deck, Bo turned his attention back to the two cards he hadn’t chosen.
“There has to be something I can do with these,” Bo said. “Can I destroy them? I’d hate to have them fall into the wrong hands and come back to bite me.”
You could use Envenom to improve one of your other, weaker cards.
Barbie explained the process, which turned out to be relatively simple. There are multiple ways to improve cards. Advancing a weak card was the easiest, but carried some risks. Sacrificing one or more donor cards would increase one of Bo's other cards to the combined power of the sacrificed cards. The danger, though, was that advancing a card carried the not insignificant risk of breaking it.
"What happens to the broken card?" Bo asked.
They collapse into magic dust. That stuff is worthless, though the goblins claim they can use it to make bombs.
"All right," Bo said. He called his cards to mind, and his deck appeared in his hand. "So this Envenom card has a Power of 2. I could improve a card with a Power of 1, right?"
You're catching on quickly for human.
Bo only had a couple of cards with a Power that low. Danger Spice and Hackstorm fit the bill, and so did Metamorph. Of course, Bo had no use for the third card. Advancing the first one might help it work better against more powerful creatures, but Bo had second thoughts about that. After all, Danger Spice was great for stopping an enemy in its tracks, but it wouldn't kill anything on its own. A more powerful version of Hackstorm, though...yeah, that was the ticket.
Bo stashed all the cards, save for Envenom and Hackstorm. He imagined the grunge elf's card merging with his attack card. For a moment, nothing happened. Then Bo felt a surge of power shoot from one hand to the other. Sparks of light burst into the air, and when they'd dissipated, he held a single card.
Hackstorm
TYPE: Power
ACTIVATE: 2S
GENERATE: --
POWER: 2
In a savage display of brute force, you make one POW melee attack against each adjacent opponent.
RARITY: Uncommon
The change to the card was subtle, replacing the "POW 1 melee attack" with the more powerful "POW melee attack," but it would make a big difference in its effectiveness. Now, anytime Bo advanced the card, it would cause more damage. He could already see himself flinging webs to pin down one group of foes while he jumped through the air and unleashed a savage attack on another group. Bo turned himself into Spider-Man with the cleaver.
Yes, you're a real superhero with your slashing and chopping.
"What do you know about superheroes?" Bo asked.
Most of what you do. I’m in your brain, Bo. You don't do a very good job of keeping most of it secure. My natural politeness is all that keeps me from plumbing the depths of your true depravity. Did you know there is an entire section of memories in here called "Naked Mom"?
"There is not," Bo said. He gathered up the elf's gear, used the belts to secure it into a bundle, then headed off for the casino.
You should've taken the elf's pants. Those pink legs are just too much for me.
"The pants were ruined and wouldn’t have fit me, anyway. And my legs are too much for anyone," Bo said, and began singing an off-key rendition of “I'm Too Sexy,” replacing everything he was too sexy for with the word "legs".
Despite having been killed and brought back from the dead, Bo felt confident that things were finally going the right way. He added cards to his deck. Sure, he had a pair of quests that might be mutually contradictory, but that was all right. He'd figure it out. Given a little time, a little luck, and some good old-fashioned hard work, the pitmaster knew he'd have his community in good shape.
Even crossing the plains was blessedly uneventful. Sure, he saw some jackalopes spying on him from the brush, but they were smart enough to keep their distance. Bo watched for the ringleader to appear, but the mutant rabbits didn’t emerge from their hiding place.
The good vibes lasted the rest of Mack’s trip. He was practically skipping when he made his way back into the cave.
Where he saw Lydia back up against the wall by Jenny, who held a machete in her hand.
“Oh, hi, Bo,” Jenny said. “Give me a hand.”
“Doing what?” the pitmaster asked.
“Killing this bitch,” the former YouTube star explained. “She’s a traitor.”
[https://i.imgur.com/PfftbKS.png] [https://i.imgur.com/HPz9RG2.png] [https://i.imgur.com/IP4cXDr.png]