Novels2Search
Escape from Purgatory - Highland
The trap, and a fish named Nemo

The trap, and a fish named Nemo

Finding the cave of decay turned out to be a (uncomfortable) breeze. Partly because Gloria seemed to have the forest mapped out in her brain, leading me through every twist and turn—much to the dismay of my already complaining legs. But mainly, the ungodly stench wafting from the cave acted as a beacon. I kept my nose dug into my smelly leather body armor, my own B.O. was perfume in comparison.

Entering the cave, I followed the narrow pathway cut in stones that was spiraling downward. It wasn’t long before I encountered the first of the fishmongers. Honestly, I’d pictured something more... fishy? Instead, before me stood a creature slathered in ooze, wielding a stick that had seen better days and proudly displaying a whiskery gray beard.

“Schrkkk, shrkk!”

“Schreck, Schreck to you too. Listen, buddy, I’ve got a meeting with a certain fish named Nemo. Ever heard of him?” Mr. Schreck didn’t seem interested in cooperating and raised his stick to attack. Quickly, I invoked ward and unsheathed my trusty rapier.

“Grrglle grlgggele!” the creature blurted out, as a sinister green sphere began forming at the tip of its staff. Memories of my close call with Kliobl flashed before my eyes. In a burst of adrenaline, I lunged and bonked him on the head with the blunt side of my rapier. I mean, come on, who in their right mind could murder a senior citizen, even if they are weirdly slimy?

But, as is the norm in this wonky realm, I quickly understood what a huge mistake that was. The elder fishmonger’s staff hit me hard, and I fell, barely able to hold on to the edge, my feet treading air, and I could hear the fishmonger’s footsteps closing in.

“HURT!” I bellowed, the word ricocheting throughout the cavern, no doubt alerting every creature within. The next sound was a soft thud, followed by silence.

Gathering every ounce of what little power I had in my biceps, I hoisted myself back up, while muttering to myself, “Why, oh why, couldn’t I have awakened as a chiseled blood elf or, heck, even a semi-athletic dwarf?” Deep down, I knew why—Purgatory was punishing me for my real-life unhealthiness. Now back on the path, all I found was a damp, slime-drenched pile of clothes. It appeared Mr. Fishmonger had left the building.

I prepared a mockery and continued down the path. I had expected more enemies the closer I got to the bottom, but besides slimy Gandalf the Grey, I didn’t meet anyone else. When I got to the bottom of the cave, the smell was so bad that each inhale felt like a series of razor blades scraping down my throat. Soon, the fabled pond loomed ahead.

The resident fish certainly wasn’t the cute and cuddly Nemo I’d pictured. Instead, it was greener than a green screen, and if there ever was a competition for ‘The Universe’s Ugliest Fish,’ this one would be its uncontested poster child.

Finding a conveniently smooth stone by the water’s edge, I perched myself and rummaged for the Doss Lute. Cradling the instrument on my lap, I gave it a dubious once-over. I had a brief stint as a guitar enthusiast back in the day, but my repertoire was limited to a grand total of three chords: G, C, and E-minor. And while my hours of jamming on Guitar Hero might’ve made me a living room rockstar, it probably wouldn’t contribute much here. Another problem was the fact that the neck wasn’t straight. It had a ninety-degree at the end, and I had no idea how to play it.

I remembered Lurin’s words and how I miraculously had gathered a crowd with my singing in the Inn. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and just let my fingers roam. My right hand plucked the strings while my left moved without conscious thought. To my shock, the cave echoed with a semi-decent melody. I peeked down and, lo-and-behold, I was jamming on the Doss like a boss. Surprised by my awesomeness, I almost forgot why I was sitting at the bottom of a dank, smelly cavern, serenading a very unfortunate-looking fish.

Looking over, I noticed Nemo the Hulk floating serenely near the surface, captivated by my performance.

Channeling my inner rock star, I sang, “Dive and fetch.” And even if it wasn’t Grammy-worthy, it sounded rather decent in the cave’s acoustics. Maybe not U2-level, but hey, not everyone can be Bono.

The fish dived, and I stopped playing.

I was standing staring at the pond, waiting for Nemo to surface, when I got that unmistakable feeling of being watched. Whispering a quick “Ward”, I slowly pivoted to meet the gaze of none other than Imrin, and next to him was the biggest creature on two legs I’d ever seen.

“Hi, Tim,” Imrin sneered, flashing a wolfish grin.

“Imrin? Seriously? Here? Now?” I cast a quick and wary glance at the behemoth beside him.

“I know that you and Gloria have been working together to trick me. My good friend Lurin told me everything. I have read the letter, and I can’t let the two of you destroy what we’re trying to achieve.” Imrin tried to put on a glum face, but his eyes told the truth. He enjoyed this.

I swallowed, trying to mask the sudden unease. “And the demon spawn?”

“This is Grom,” Imrin said with a hint of pride, patting the beast’s shaggy leg. “And let me tell you, he’s as strong as they come. You’re seriously outmatched. I mean, the only spell that could even touch him is Hurtful Heart, and... oops! You wasted it on the wizard.”

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

So, the fishmonger wasn’t just a regular NPC, which gave me some consolidation in using the once-a-day spell on him. If not, I would’ve probably been swimming with Nemo for eternity.

“Can’t the good people of Highland just live their lives without your constant meddling?” I said, shifting my position slightly so my back wasn’t against the pond. I still didn’t trust that fish.

“We do it for the people! They are safe under our control,” Imrin shot back, his facade of calmness cracking.

“Oh, please,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “When you spin a yarn, at least put some effort into it.” I caught the subtle sound of a splash from the pond behind me. “Hold that thought, Mr. Villain. Sounds like my fishy pals come through.” Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the green fish proudly presenting a massive, ornate chest, disregarding Newton’s law on gravity.

Shuffling over to the loot, I could sense Imrin’s irritation boiling over. “Grom! Strike now!” He barked, but I didn’t flinch.

“Hold on a sec,” I said cheerily, without even bothering to face them. Flipping open the lid, my eyes landed on a gleaming belt. The thing radiated a brilliant yellow light, and I instinctively knew this wasn’t just any belt. This was special—The first ever rare item I’d seen.

Imrin grew more frantic. “GROM, ATTACK NOW!”

Casually fastening the belt around my waist, I finally turned to face them, a smirk playing on my lips.

“Grom won’t do anything,” I said and walked over to the Brute that was three times my height and twenty times my mass, and kicked him as hard as I could between the legs. He didn’t flinch.

“What’s going on he…”

“Hush. Listen,” I whispered, and as if on cue, the cave bathed in an enchanting melody. It was so mesmerizing that I could feel goosebumps forming all over. Out of the corner of my eye, Gloria and Lurin materialized as if stepping out from a veil. Gloria had used her cloak spell on herself and Lurin, who was playing the flute. Lurin’s flute, once a subject of my mockery, now produced notes so beautiful they seemed otherworldly.

“What is this?!” Imrin stuttered and stared at the three of us with wide eyes.

“This, my dear merchant, is how you set a proper trap,” I replied smugly. “Perhaps you’ll remember this: Never send someone into the lion’s den unless you’re certain they won’t come out.”

His face paled. “I never meant for any of this to...”

“Enough!” Gloria snapped, closing the distance between her and Imrin in the blink of an eye. The frosty edge of her knife pressed gently against his skin, just enough to draw a single bead of blood that glistened on its surface.

“I’d advise against any sudden movements, including that wagging tongue of yours,” I said, my eyes darting to Lurin, who continued his haunting melody. He gave me a quick nod, beads of sweat running down his face. I knew I had to hurry.

“Do you know what distinguishes the righteous from the wicked?” I asked. Imrin started to speak, but Gloria applied more pressure, and a slow ooze of red dripped from her blade.

“Did you not hear me the first time? Keep. Your. Mouth. Shut!” I snapped. “Gloria, perhaps he’s eager for a swift end. Maybe we should just oblige?”

She tightened her grip, and Imrin’s eyes widened in terror, his body frozen in place.

“Good, now you understand. See, I’m in a bit of a Catch 22. You’re cozy with Volcanic and you’ve got the knowledge we need. But we also know you’d scamper off to your overlord the second we let you go. Quite the quandary, don’t you think?” I gestured to Gloria, who eased the pressure on her blade ever so slightly.

“Speak!” I said.

“I…I promise not to tell anyone. I’ll give you everything you need if you let me go. I promise on my mother’s grave!” Imrin begged.

“OK. Then spill it.”

“You’re right; I’m working for Volcanic. His ambition? Dominating the forest. You’ll find him at the heart of the charred forest. I swear on my mother’s grave that it’s the truth. Let me go, and our paths will never cross again.”

I looked at Gloria, then at Lurin, before I looked at Imrin again. I breathed out and shook my head slowly.

“Frankly, I always knew you weren’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but I hoped you’d grasp the gravity of this moment. Clearly, you’re still trying to play games.” I turned to Lurin. “Ready?” He gave a firm nod in response.

“Grom, grab Imrin and lift him up,” I said. Immediately, Grom grabbed Imrin in a tight grip and lifted him over his head. Imrin’s screams echoed through the cave, his feet flailing about like a distressed marionette.

“Grom, hold Imrin over the pond.”

Grom did.

“STOP! Please! I’ll reveal everything! I report to Fønix—he’s Volcanic’s right hand. He’s stationed within the charred forest. I can lead you to him!”

“Grom lower Imrin two feet.” I said, and Imrin slowly descended towards the pond. Nemo bared his teeth, and the sight sent shivers down my spine. The fish’s gaping maw seemed impossibly vast, and if it got hold of anything, it would tear it to shreds in moments, not unlike a ravenous piranha.

“I don’t recall asking for a tour guide,” I remarked coldly. “I want Fønix’s location. This is it, Imrin — your last shot. I’m not sure how high Nemo can leap, but I’d wager he’d reach you if I tell Grom to lower you just a tad more.”

“PLEASE! DON’T!” Imrin’s voice broke in terror as Grom surprisingly took it as a command and descended him even closer. In a frenzied flash, Nemo lunged, narrowly missing his mark.

“So, are you going to spill, or should I give Grom the go-ahead?”

“NO! He lives on the eastern side of the charred forest. In the old town of Beetleville.” Imrin cried, and the tone of his voice told me that this time he told the truth.

“And the lieutenants? How many?”

“Two. Fønix and his sister Pyrola. They’re Volcanic’s apparitions.”

“Where’s Pyrola?”

“I don’t know, I swear! I only deal with Fønix. But be aware, he is dangerous, and he has several fire imps around him. They might seem small, but they are powerful. I’ve heard Pyrola is even worse.” Imrin said.

“Grom put Imrin down on the ground.”

Grom did as instructed. I didn’t know how long Lurin could hold the suggestion spell going, but the power of the spell impressed me. I had controlled a fish, but that had spent most of my mana. He’d controlled a mountain of a beat for a long time.

“Grom, make your way out of this cave as fast as you can,” I ordered. The hulking figure hurriedly made his ascent, leaving echoing footfalls in his wake. Imrin remained motionless, rooted to the spot where Grom had placed him. Once the resonating steps of Grom faded, Lurin ceased playing the flute and collapsed, exhaustion evident in every line of his face.

I dashed to his side, concern gnawing at me. Despite his fatigue, he managed a weak grin. “That took more out of me than I expected. I’ll be alright, but I need your help to get out.”

“Alright, Imrin, listen up,” I began, addressing the trembling merchant. “You’re going to help get Lurin back to the village. Once there, you’ll express an urgent need to depart. Make up a convincing reason. And if our paths cross again, or if I even catch wind of your name, I promise I’ll personally introduce you to Nemo’s jaws. Understood?”

Paralyzed with fear, Imrin could only manage a nod.