Rusty signs in a garbled language hung bolted to yellowing tile covering the wall around the sigil platform. Crumbling beams of mold eaten brick with peeking rebar split a narrow hall extending from the portal room. Occasionally, the hall would shake with a monotone rumbling. The phosphorescent rock veins from Azoria’s audience chamber lit the area with a harsh white light.

The vein of light traveled along the center ceiling of the terminal. In some of the culverts ahead, the light flickered. As they stepped off the sigil stand a sign hit the cement floor with a clatter. A dampness filled the air as little rivulets of water ran down the tile into rocky outcroppings that pushed the tiles aside. Puddles formed on the uneven cement.

Janele clamped the open laceration slicing diagonally across her stomach with both hands as she led the party. Lizbet followed just behind. Hoop earrings gave little bounces with each step. The red goblin stomped angrily beside her with a dagger in its hand. Chien walked with hands in the pocket of his trench coat. One last stick of cherry flavored gum tumbled between his fingers.

Moss appeared. A little at first, but as they went further more hung from the walls. It crawled across the floor before becoming a moist carpet. It covered the crumbling pillars to obscure the unreadable signs. It only failed to cling to the ceiling, where the vein of phosphorescent rock asserted its dominance.

As they walked further, as if without thought or aim, the light flickered in more places like a bad halogen bulb. The strings of moss became more assertive, even bridging across the light source while clinging their roots into it. Rusted vents on the floor exposed gaping openings that led into a cramped wet darkness. Chien swore her heard snorting from inside one. The tunnel narrowed to force them to walk in single file with Chien lagging behind. Then and opening appeared to the left, a space carved out and dimly lit by moss covered veins. Green and yellow moss bedded the floor and lined the walls abundantly.

Injuries Description Torso

You are injured. Stat reductions proportional to severity of injury. Stamina reduced. Hit box points reduced proportional to severity and location of injuries. Attacks to injured areas always result in critical hits.

Janele stopped to lean her forehead against the moss while clutching her wound. Glowing violet eyes and a half-moon mark burned in her mental vision. That jagged edge of human bone swiped before she thought to dodge. Janele hadn’t expected to be attacked by a severed hand. The gristle of the marrow pulsed with life. She’d forgotten the power of a corned rat, a being so desperate it could gnaw off its own limbs to escape. The sting from her laceration combined with exhaustion to slide her to her knees. It didn’t feel deep, but it was jagged, it bled, and it radiated pain. Her hands pinched it like a vice to fight the agony and keep it closed. Lizbet crouched to put a hand on Janele’s shoulder. The red goblin glared at them.

“This place seems calm enough, let’s take a break and get you patched up, okay?”

A dry patch in the bed of moss proved a soft place to sit. Janele slid her hand behind the moss and felt stone pushing through broken tile. She swallowed hard, pushed her shoulder against the wall, and continued clamping the laceration in the deep line between her navel and the side of her ribcage. Lizbet rubbed her shoulder gently.

“Let me see it, please. I really do want to be your friend.”

Janele shook her head, “It’s nothin’ I can’t handle. I can keep going. Jus’ give me a minute to think. Ya know what? Screw this. I’m gonna go back there and make that little bitch pay for cutting me up.”

Janele straightened, but after a single step she faltered and slid down with her back against the wall. She put her head back with a groan as she clamped her abdomen. Soaked sneakers kicked moss aside. Lizbet took off her over shirt, revealing a dirty sports bra underneath, and began to tear it.

“You’re still bleeding. We need to treat that.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“With what? Don’t rip your shirt. It’s soaked in crap anyway. It’s no good. I don’t want an infection.”

“You’re gonna get one anyway if you keep being stupid.”

The red goblin stepped forward to peer at the wound. Then it hopped backwards. It pulled moss off the wall, but only the dryer yellow moss, which it heaped into a pile. Loose debris and broken tiles formed a circular border.

A small wooden tube was pulled from a satchel tied to the red goblin’s shorts. It blew into the tube. The pitch adjusted until it reached a high hum. The other end glowed as the wood dried, then sparked. The goblin pressed the burning end into the pile of yellow moss. Next, it snatched the rag Lizbet tore from her shirt and held it over the fire.

“What are you doing? Are you trying to help? Do you want me to find some fuel for the fire?”

The goblin tilted its head. It didn’t have any knowledge of Common. It let the flames lick the long dirty rag until it dried. The flame licked the poor creature’s hand and made flesh blister. Seeing the cloth dry and at risk of burning, Lizbet went to grab it. The goblin pulled it back and took a step to Janele, who dripped with sweat as her skin paled. Blood seeped against the long decorative nails of her clenching fingers. The goblin pointed to the yellow moss, then to Chien, then to the fire. The detective nodded before gathering yellow strands to feed their little fire. It then jumped back to the fire and beckoned Janele.

“Nar! Nar! Geb nar!”

“I think it wants you near the fire,” Chien said.

Janele wiped her forehead, then scooted toward the pathetic fire without getting up. She glared at Chien. The yellow moss wasn’t as common as the green, which was too moist to burn, so it took the detective a bit of time to find yellow moss that wasn’t soaking. The goblin reached into the fire with a needle and pulled out some still burning moss. It reached forward to stuff the moss into the laceration. Fingers wrapped its neck. Little beady red eyes bulged as it kicked and cried.

“What are you tryin’ to do to me monster?”

Chien shook his head, “I think it’s trying to treat your wound.”

“Yeah, I think it’s trying to help,” Lizbet turned to Chien, “Why are you following us, go away before I decide to kill you.”

Janele released the goblin from the strangle hold. It quickly caught its breath and without even grumbling stuffed burning moss in the laceration. It then positioned Janele’s hands to indicate she should continue to hold the wound shut for now. It had a needle and some string which it used to sew the wound while leaving a small amount of still burning moss inside. Janele put her hands down and laid flat on her back.

“Give me something to bite!”

Chien pulled a small handkerchief from an upper coat pocket that was still dry and mostly clean.

“You’re not serious?” Lizbet said.

Janele bit down. Once her hands were no longer needed, they went behind her back in submission to the mob. Her back rested over them as the goblin worked from left to right, bottom near the hip to the top near the right side of her rib cage where the wound deepened. Lizbet sat to watch the goblin work. The stitching looked ugly but it closed the worst of it. Lizbet frowned at the goblin.

“You better know what you’re doing Mr. Monster,” then she looked at Chien, “Didn’t I tell you to get? Get! Get! Get! You’re not wanted here.”

“You’re serious? Fine. I’m not going to stay where I’m not wanted.”

Janele spoke through clenched teeth as she arched her back against the goblin’s stitch work, “No wait. You helped us out. You’re good. We won’t cause you problems if you keep being good.”

“Are you sure about this?” Lizbet asked.

“I’ve given it some thought. We might not be able to handle this alone. Didn’t she say something about a team of five being optimal? We got proud, and look what happened.”

Chien put his arms around his chest and took a deep breath through his nose. The damp air here smelt rancid.

The goblin finished sewing the wound with a jagged crisscrossing stitch. It reached to direct Janele to sit up, which she did with some effort. The now somewhat charred band of cloth Lizbet created from her shirt wrapped around Janele’s waist to cover the wound before being tied snugly.

“He can at least tell us his name.”

“Fine. It’s Chien Nguyen.”

Lizbet immediately summoned the screens. Her fingers licked at them, “Number one reason not to trust him. He’s a cop, a detective of all things. No good. Never no good.”

“Are his abilities decent?”

Lizbet shrugged her shoulders, “Dunno. They seem okay. We’ve used better for target practice. And it’s fine for me to say that, seems like he’d know if we lied to him. Take his equipment away and he’s pretty useless.”

Janele pressed a finger to her forehead as she slowly stood, “Fail to kill our target and you’re pretty freaking useless!”

“I still have my goblin. And I’m not the one saying no one can touch me. No one can touch me! No one can touch me! You almost got offed by the most pathetic player on the roster, so I don’t want to hear it no more from you!”

Janele put her hands on her hips.

“If I almost got offed, then what does that make you? Miss accuracy who failed to kill her target because she twisted in mid-air or something stupid like that. I wouldn’t be opened up like some roast beef if you’d done your job like you’re supposed to do it.”

They were face to face. Forehead pressed against forehead.

Chien approached the fire and warmed his hand over it, “Pathetic or not. She’s an undead player. They have uncanny abilities. You saw what happened by the stage, everybody did. It took attacks from several other players to finally bring him down. So perhaps you two should be glad to have escaped intact? I mean, you saw her summon those bugs, right?”

They both turned to him simultaneously, “Shut up pig!”

A loud squeal burst from the tunnel in the direction they had come, “Squuueeeeep!”

The goblin tensed and took up its stone dagger as another squeal issued from the direction they were headed.

“Squoooiiip! Shrruuuuck!”