Moss almost leapt out of his cloth.
“Dam it Tink, don’t be a TossPot.”
“Ha! Made your HiddenEye cry didn’t I?” The gnome giggled.
“HiddenEye? What in the hells is that?”
“Its the part in every monster where we hide our weaknesses - according to my Ma anyway. Da used to say I showed mine more than a night walking succubus. What a load of holy bollocks. I’ve buried it deeper than the Trenches’ abyss, not even Pools could see it.” Tink bragged while sipping from the skull flask.
“Rejection.”
“Huh?” The gnome stopped grinning.
“Your HiddenEye cries from rejection.” Moss stated.
“Oh fuck off. Here’s your RustyNail.” He tossed the metallic sparking treat to the keeper, then grumbled under his breath about killing his Old gnome for less.
“Sorry, I heard friends should be honest.”
Tink glared across the table but nodded in agreement. He saw the keeper inspecting the nail with uncertainty. “You stick it on your tongue, gives you an absolute buzz.”
“But a keeper's tongue is his tool.” Moss said, alarmed.
“Aye, well I'm sure it's been in worse places. Could always stick it where the sun don’t shine. Hear that way has an even bigger kick.”
Moss didn’t feel the need for a ‘buzz’ right now. The music was enough.
“I think I'm going to get a bit closer.” He indicated to the demon’s table. “Can’t hear them from here.”
He pocketed the nail and made his way closer to the stage. The keeper was trying to act casual but he’d never danced before and wasn’t sure how. Luckily there was a dweller for him to copy. One of Seb’s mice wives was squatting against the stage with her head down and tail flapping in the air. It snapped against her back in time with the beat. Moss mimicked her. Shuffling around the side and towards Lesser’s table.
“Wows.” The mousette said to him. “Did your mother teach yous these moves as well?”
“Sure.” Moss replied before shuffling away.
The keeper pretended to be focused on the band but slowly danced his way around. Until he finally started to catch snippets of conversation.
“...more HolyRelics...weapons for… army…” A FruitBat sneered.
Moss thrust his butt closer.
“...wait for… signal...” The Lesser replied. “...Guardians…HallowedEve… the Core… be death.”
Moss went to take another shuffle when a hand grabbed him from the side.
“I love music!” He blurted out.
“As do I, kid. Buts this banshee wail isn’t cutting the reds tonight, no nots tonight.” A sleek looking SilverStoat yelled. “Dos your job little clothed creatures. As the bells of hell will ring nows, not later.”
He yanked Moss to face the rumbling crowd. What he assumed was typical nightly behaviour in Minors, was apparently far rowdier and disorderly than normal. At least according to Katz, the RatKin Orderer of the Quarter. All monsters from that family of rodent beasts were frantic and conniving. Katz was no exception. His tail flicked with anxiety, but Moss could tell from several heated arguments that it was justified.
His claws dug into the side of Moss’s hood as Katz leaned over him. Forcing his face into the SilverStoats till he could smell the bitter ebony on his breath. “Guards we haves. But onlys a few. If only dogs laid litters like Ratkins we wouldn’t need yous.”
Several gnolls escorted a large Furry away. But his mates were practically frothing at the fangs. Their glares directed to Seb's table. His harem was partying like it was Hallowed Eve. Herbs burned, ManaCrystals snorted, grog flowed and the constant squeaks of too many happy Micelettes was growing torturous.
“I specialise in the dead, not the pre dead.” Moss confessed.
Katz inhaled deeply from a long DarkStick. It reminded Moss of his own manager.
“Whys I say twice. Always twice.” He slapped his paws together, pointing them back and forth between Moss and himself as he went. “Listen nows, listens good. Like I explained to the other maggot onlys a flicker ago. It’s ‘Lui and Sons’.” He waved at the band. “This is just the ‘Sons’ and they sound like FoxOgre’s mating. We needs Lui and his musical skills to mellow outs the crowd. But that clumsy fuck slipped downs the basement staircase and is a mound of useless mole fur right nows. He landed right next to a well downs there.” Katz poked Moss roughly in the chest and stooped down, getting in his stained fangs in his face.
The charm of a SilverStoats tongue must have skipped this rodent bastard at birth. This was simply a monster abusing the meagre amount of power he’d gained. Stew was starting to look a lot nicer in hindsight.
“Takes that tongue our Mother Pools gifted yous, and go-” Poke. “-Dos-” Poke. “-Your-” Poke. “-Fucking jobs.” He pointed towards a staircase in the corner.
Moss stared wide eyed.
But not at the stoat.
Tink, now wielding a lute, leapt off the stage.
His eyes were literally red and fixed on Katz.
“Fuck you Dad!” He cried, with a hint of sadness, as the instrument shattered against the Orderers back.
Katz screamed in pain, collapsing to the floor.
The crowd cheered.
The band cheered.
The music stopped.
Mayhem ensued.
Glass and bones shattered. Screams of pain and triumph went out as a brawl erupted. A gnoll guard was thrown through the verandah railing and crashed into Seb’s table. Erupting a sparkling cloud that covered half the courtyard, enhancing the mob with stamina and swinging jaws. Monsters rushed the bar as the Quarter’s attendants abandoned their stations. Several Chandeliers were pulled down, their metallic frames exploding with a spray of embers - Adding to the hazy smoke that billowed from cracks in the floor
A party of drunk HowlerBears invaded the stage. After a brief scuffle with the band, they commandeered their instruments and started playing a horrendous tune. The sharp noise and fast beat excited the mob further, giving them more spunk and ferocious energy.
Two Gnolls emerged from the chaos and advanced on Tink. With fury and spite in their eyes.
The gnome stood on Katz unconscious body, raising his arms as a challenge. “I've been fucked by bigger bitches than you. So come on then!”
Moss wanted to help, he needed to be there for his friend. The gnome who stood up for him when they barely knew each other. But his feet were frozen.
He forced them to move, but only so he could crawl under the stage.
The music cut off as loud banging erupted overhead. It sounded like two armies colliding to the terrified keeper. Since his attempt at graverobbing, Moss had promised himself to always avoid conflict with at least several floors between himself and the danger.
This level of aggression was too much for him. He watched as bodies littered the courtyard. Amongst a furry pile, he noted the remains of two tiny legs sticking out.
Tink. How could I abandon you so quickly?
The gnome had died alone - under several (dead) dwellers. But spiritually, alone.
Moss removed the RustyNail, intending to use the energy enhancer to make a break for his friend's body, but instead grabbed the rubbish bag. Remembering he’d taken a bunch of junk from the Maze. He removed a cracked leather shield.
“This will work.” He said to himself.
Take the leap, take the leap, take the leap you coward.
A kobold was tackled by guards into a chair, shattering it and the lizard creatures back. Their trunchets fell, pulping the skinny creature until it’s scales split.
Nope, can’t do it.
Moss turned and was about to crawl deeper under the stage when it creaked and bowed. More bodies thudded above, shaking and shifting the supports.
Moss screamed and ran just as it collapsed. Shield held high, he charged into the mayhem. A bottle smashed against the leather. Two lessers, dragging a comrade in front of him, were crushed by a collapsing chandelier. Fires broke out as Moss dived out the way, losing his protection in the process.
He looked around in a panic and realised Tink’s lifeless legs lay next to him. As he stood, several furries ran past, one dodged a flying chair and barged into Moss. Knocking him down beside the pile of remains. A sharp pain flared across his side.
“Fuck you Franc!” The male furry yelled as it carried on running.
Oh no. Pools please, I need help. Stats, show me my health.
No information came.
Moss scrambled and did what he did best. Licking bodies. Pulling limbs and torso around him. Manipulating them with his VenomClaw. He worked madly to form a boulder with himself in the centre. Soon he was enclosed. Shards of light broke through the gaps he left to see through.
Low thuds echoed through his meat shield as objects banged off the side.
Stuck to the top and staring down at him was Tink’s lifeless body. Claws had raked through his feeble body, leaving deep trenches in his overalls.
“Sorry Tink.” Moss whispered. “I’ll bring you back.”
The boulder rocked as more objects smashed against it.
Giving Moss an idea. He leaned forward, causing the ball to shift and roll.
This is it, this it you beauty. But where do I go?
Using his claws to balance out his weight, he leaned forward to peer through a gap. Through the carnage and haze, he spotted the staircase to the basement and the Minor’s well.
“Hell’s bells, what is that?” A deep voice boomed nearby.
Somebody had spotted him. Without waiting to let them find out, the keeper charged. The boulder rolled. Its mass bumped tables and chairs out the way. With a little speed and few licks through the gaps he picked up any bodies on route.
The boulder grew. Gathering mass, momentum and attention. More voices shouted out, making Moss run even faster inside his meat wagon. The keeper's tiny legs pumped as hard as he could until he hit a solid wall.
By now there were no gaps left. Leaving him in the dark and blind. He pulled a furry’s body into the hollow space to make a little hole. His hooded head squeezed out and found he was next to the basement staircase.
“By Pools right breast. There’s a maggot in there!” A Lesser called out.
Another stamped their hooves with excitement. “Let’s throw it off the balcony!”
That was enough encouragement for Moss. He popped his head back inside. Prayed to his dungeon core. And rolled down the stairs.
He rapidly descended. The meaty corpses crunched and splattered as they started to bounce. Clearing a few steps at a time.
Moss rolled and flipped, completely not in control.
Demons called in glee at the chase. He tried to scream but the air was knocked out of him as the boulder bounced. A chunk split away, leaving a shard of light spinning with each rotation. His claws dug into the side as he freefell down the stairs. He chundered, adding to the mess. The bile stung his eyes which he tried to close. But the keeper couldn’t tear his eyes away from Tink’s face - his joyful grin frozen in death.
How is he not scared of dyin-
Bang.