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The Butcher of Gadobhra - Chapter 341

Published at 12th of February 2024 06:03:27 AM


Chapter 341: Gone Fishing

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Chapter 341: Gone Fishing

The road made of white paving stones stretched ahead of Ozzy, winding through green hills topped with thorn vines bearing red and purple clusters of fruit and small blue flowers. Birds circled overhead of several types. Occasionally, a bird would descend to feed, carefully landing on the bushes and avoiding the six-inch-long thorns. Eating greedily from the fruit, they became disoriented and then plunged into the bushes or fell in front of them. The bushes benefitted from the dead birds that now fertilized their soil. Other birds, resembling raptors crossed with vultures, would stoop to grab the birds that fell in front, arguing over the meals.

Ozzy looked at the dog following along with him and then at the bushes. "Beautiful, deadly, poisonous, and tempting. That sums up politics whether it's humans, corporations, or fae."

The dog barked twice.

Ozzy sighed, "Yes, and sometimes manipulative bastards posing as loyal contract workers. Point taken. It's good to keep that in mind."

After a mile, the vines came closer and closer to the road and began to pile up higher and higher. A foul-smelling mist rose up and hovered above the vines, blocking the sky and making it difficult to tell direction. The nature of the vines changed, taking on the look of tarnished silver, each thorn a miniature sword dripping with the poison from the berries. The hound stuck out its tongue and let one drop settle on it. It swirled the berry juice in its mouth and then swallowed. A moment later, it looked at the man who was patiently waiting and seemed to shrug its shoulders, giving a subdued bark.

"Not sure? Damn, I guess it's my turn. Best to know now." Ozzy touched a drop with his finger, taking a fraction of a drop, and stuck his finger in his mouth.

"Sweet, that's for sure. You could make damned nice jam out of these if you didn't mind killing a lot of people." He spat, took a swig of rum from a flask, and washed out his mouth. "Stronger than I can handle, that's for sure. A glass of that would eat out my insides pretty fast. Rolly would love them, though." The dog agreed. Ozzy sat down his pack and pulled out an empty barrel that had once held dwarven whiskey. The heavily enchanted wood was proof against destruction from dragon's breath, and Ozzy hoped it could handle some berries. He and the hound spent a few minutes carefully snipping off large clusters of berries from the bushes and filling the barrel. As an afterthought, he also took a few dozen of the thorns. They could be used as small daggers and would delight most player assassins and were already enchanted with poison.

Using one of the thorns, he cut through a section of the vines. The metal was hollow and bled a poisonous sap. He drained the piece and then strained to bend it. The metal bent but sprung back to its original shape. "Maybe a few samples for Georges and the smiths to work with? Could be interesting." Another few minutes passed as the vines, missing their berries and thorns, were cut and stuffed into the bag. The duo walked on through the twisting lane until they came to a T intersection. The hound went one way and the Captain the other, returning quickly.The initial instance of this chapter being available happened at N0v3l.Bin.

"Looks like a maze. What do you think?"

The hound concurred.

"Fine, nothing to it then but to get started. I'm damn sure it won't be so simple as following the right-hand rule. I've got a good idea of the direction to go, but you'll have to advise me on which path to take." Taking a deep pull on his cigar, he let loose a huge blast of smoke that blended with the mist hovering overhead. Tossing the cigar butt into his sack, he lit another, blowing out more bursts of smoke. Overhead, the blended mist spread out above them as the two travelers strode into the thorny maze.

The river emerged from a tunnel in the thorns and flowed into another. The road continued on the other side. To get across, a traveler would have to swim through the hungry fish or use a bridge. Each seemed different. One was low, with a simple, straight path of wood across the river. The Hound noticed the fish jumped higher than the bridge, easily leaping over it, and most of the side rails were missing. A second bridge was made of nearly perfect glass, hard to see as it arched high above the river with no rail. The Hound inspected each and whined its displeasure.

"No worries, I think it's time for a break, anyway. Let's do some fishing."

The Captain breathed out a large amount of smoke that he formed into a thin chain and a hook. Taking bait and a fishing pole from his bag, he cast his line in the river. Instantly, a fish took the bait. He reeled in onto the bank, where it flopped around until he took off its head with an axe. Wood and tinder came from the bag, and a fire was started. The fish's body was wrapped in layers of smoke and placed on the side of the fire to cook. The Hound chewed on the head while the Captain went back to fishing. The hunger of rippy fish was legendary, and the morsels on the smoky hook were more than they'd had to eat in years. Ozzy pulled out fish after fish to the bank. The first twelve he put on the fire to eat; a few were wrapped in smoke to take home and the rest he gave to the Hound, who found them very tasty.

Deep in the river, Rip Jaw became aware that all of its food was leaving! The ancient rippy fish swam to the surface to see what was happening. A fisherman?! Those were its meals! Nothing was left in the stream but the smaller fish, only a few inches long. Eggs could be hatched, but it would be ages before they grew large and tasty. Rip Jaw decided on a better meal. When the next hook and line dropped down, it took the bait and pulled. The fisherman pulled back. They tugged back and forth, the fisherman coming closer and closer to the bank. Before he could be pulled in, the chain snapped. Rip Jaw retreated, upset. Now that the fisherman was aware of it, the man wouldn't try again.

That assumption proved wrong. A larger hook and stout chain was caste out over the water with a succulent smoked ham as bait. Rip Jaw leaped upwards, swallowing hook and ham. The huge fish broke the surface and went thirty feet into the air before diving back down. The chain firmly lodged inside the huge fish tore painfully as the chain became taut. The fisherman hadn't been pulled in and was fighting hard!

"Damn, that's a big one! Must be fifteen-feet long!" Ozzy held his Trammelian Chain firmly in his hands, and his feet were planted firmly on the ground. He slowly grew in size to his full eight feet as he struggled. The fish was pulling hard, but Ozzy had held onto a whale, and this fish was no whale. He spent a half hour trying to land the fish, but it was too strong.

"We're burning daylight. Go near the edge and wiggle your tail or something."

The hound stared at Ozzy in disbelief for a moment and then did as he asked. Hounds were known for their loyalty, and this was an exceptional Hound. No sooner had the tail and butt wiggling begun than the fish leaped for the dog. Ozzy jerked hard on the chain, pulling the fish in a direction that didn't give it a dog dinner. Now, Ozzy had the problem of keeping the fish busy as it flopped after him, vainly trying to walk on its fins. He breathed out huge gouts of smoke in its direction, drying it out and weakening it. Unable to catch the Captain or the dog nipping at its fins, the fish finally exhausted itself and passed out, unable to breathe. Ozzy took out his flensing hatchets and started at the tail, splitting the fish in half. Five minutes later, Rip Jaw had been carved into fifty-pound cutlets, and the Hound was enjoying the liver and entrails. The sharp teeth, cutlets, tough hide, and scales entered the bag.

Ozzy approached the river with the Hound. He closed his bag tightly, took a deep breath, and dropped into the river. A few minutes of walking brought him to the other side, and he climbed out, brushing off hundreds of small rippy fish attached to him, but who couldn't chew through his tough hide. The Hound shook its head and took the most dangerous-looking bridge, racing across the glass expanse and then expertly sliding down the second half before it crumbled to dust.

Traveling on, they emerged into a brightly lit field with the sun still high in the sky. Behind them, the thorns withered and withdrew, showing a straight path to the gate for anyone who dared to look through the gates a hundred feet away. Before the Captain was Duchess Midnight, resplendent in crushed velvet of purple and red, a crown of silver thorns on her head; beside her were twelve maidens who all resembled the mortal barmaid in her care. To either side were thirteen of her soldiers, each bearing a poisonous blade of silver.

The Captain walked up, his hound at his side. He nodded politely. "I was told you wanted to do some business."

The Duchess ignored his lack of a proper bow, thinking she would enjoy teaching him manners at a later time. "Indeed. I think I have something you want."




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