CHAPTER 498: THE CRONES

Ozzy awoke, manacles on his wrists, the short chain between them fastened above him. He was naked except for a rope belt and tattered pants. Fifty feet below, waves rolled over a narrow strip of sand and crashed against the cliff. His first thought was the irony of the situation. He'd died by a chain and now was hanging from one in the underworld. His second thought was, 'Damn, that's a big bird diving at me.' The eagle was thinking, 'Liver for Lunch!'

Bracing one foot on the wall, Ozzy kicked out with the other as the eagle came in for a snack, catching it under the beak. There was an ugly snapping sound as its neck broke, and the bird fell lifeless to the narrow beach below him. Scanning the skies, he didn't see any more birds circling. Which didn't mean more weren't coming, but he had some time to get down from his perch. Bracing again, he pushed off the rough cliff face and spun around, getting his feet against the wall and walking up the rock. He'd hoped that the chain was on a hook, but instead, a metal spike was driven through a link and deep into the rock of the cliff. Grabbing the chains close to the iron spike, he took a deep breath and began pulling on the spike. The next bit was going to hurt, but not as much as staying around to feed the birds. It was an uncomfortable position, hunched over and braced against the cliff, rocking back and forth to loosen the spike. It started to give, and he pushed as hard as he could, trying to throw himself out into the waves. Physics and the waves disagreed with the plan, and he fell hard on the wet sand as the wave receded. A moment later, as he lay stunned, the sea swept over him. He got up, sputtering and brushing seaweed and several small opportunistic crabs off of him. More were already at work, dragging the dead eagle into the surf.

"He's all yours, fellas. I see what I need over yonder." The beach widened to his left, with piles of worn driftwood, rocks, and sand. A bronze key sat on a large rock twenty feet further up the beach. Two other rocks were on either side of the big one, like a table and two stools. It made a convenient place to sit down for a moment. As he suspected, the key opened the shackles. He hung the chain from his belt. Might as well take back a souvenir, if he could. After that, he took some time to look at the ocean and think about the fight with Marcy.

He'd been goading her for a second fight, and she'd been anxious to oblige. He'd suspected she had moves he hadn't seen, and he was curious how tough she would be in a real fight where she fought her hardest, and wasn't trying to train her opponent. By mutual consent, they agreed to go all out and not take breaks until one or the other of them yielded. She'd certainly taken him seriously. He'd wanted to see what a top player could do. A lot of the people they'd fought hadn't been the best, or had the best armor. And many hadn't taken the paths that led to the best combat options, going for crafting options, or fun skills they enjoyed. Not everyone went all out with combat skills, but those were the ones that were going to cause them trouble, sooner or later. Suzette and Ben were slowly getting a better idea of what the players could do with their fancy skills and maneuvers, but it was all second- and third-hand information. They weren't in competition with the players, but conflicts had arisen in the past, and would again. He wanted to know what they were up against.

Something about the flat, sand-covered rock was odd. Brushing off an inch of sand and seaweed revealed a smooth surface carved with rows of squares, like a chessboard. Nearby in the sand, he saw a windworn piece of wood carved like a king. Scouring the area, he found half of the pieces from a chess set and set the pieces up on the board in across from him. If there had ever been more pieces, they were lost in the sand or taken by the waves.

But there was plenty of driftwood around, and it amused him to make the board complete while he sat and thought. Breathing smoke into several smaller pieces, he began to work the wood into chess pieces in the likenesses of his friends as he thought about the fight and what he could have done differently. Many things came to mind. He could have tossed her out of the ring and halfway across town while he was swinging her. Or flip Chainey at the corral and keep her chained in one place while he slow-roasted her, or summoned more sharks and overwhelmed her. Or simply flopped on his back and pinned her in the dirt while he tried to pry Chainey from his neck. Or simply conceded and let her win that round. The maneuver with the chain had been one part luck, one part skill, and one part sheer genius. He hadn't seen it coming and knew what some of his opponents must have felt like when they beat some big monster. That was the trouble with fighting players; they didn't always react as you thought they would. Or at least, not the good ones. He continued to think about how to train in the future while he infused the driftwood with smoke and carved the pieces.

His first piece looked like Suzette, not surprising to him since she was on his mind a lot. They'd never gotten this much quality time together before, and he liked that more and more. Since it was his chess set, he put her piece where the King normally went. If he lost her, he lost the game. Ben went next to her. His piece looked more like a Paladin than a Bishop, but the position fit Ben; fast movement and sliding through the diagonals to strike. Rolly was a knight mounted on a wyvern. His plans and thoughts never moved in straight lines. He put an oversized Butcher as the Rook. Jorges became the other Rook, quit fitting, he thought, to use a castle builder as a Castle. Who to make the Queen resemble puzzled him until it became obvious, and he sculpted a large butterfly. Squirmie was mobile and powerful, probably more powerful than anyone outside their group suspected. Only Rolly might know for sure. Delbert became a Bishop with a tall, pointed hat and a staff. After a moment's thought, he made Marcy the other knight. Then, one by one, he made the pawns. If you didn't play chess, you didn't understand how important that 'weakest' piece was. Betty, John, Cham...lots of the other workers had held their own in fights or supported the town. The two in the center looked like Billy and Layla, which amused him to no end. In Ozzy's game, the Baron and Baroness were pieces to be maneuvered. Billy probably thought the same about him. On the other side were the older, wind-worn pieces. Now he just needed an opponent, but Prometheus was nowhere to be seen, and he didn't blame the Titan. This wasn't a place you stayed at longer than you needed to.

And he didn't feel like coming back anytime soon. Which meant not losing fights, and that meant not saving up his enhancement points like a squirrel hoarding nuts. He'd been debating what to do with them for too long, thinking he was strong and tough enough and could branch into magic more. And hoping they'd find more options to spend them on. But both Marcy and Grinder had shown him that he wasn't tough enough for everything yet. And there would always be big monsters out there, like the crazy cyclone. He had 150 points to spend and used them to increase his main skills: Taking someone's best shot and hitting back just as hard.

He uncapped both STR and CON. Both skills had pushed past the softcap of five already. Then he bought the 3 extra points for each. That would push up his Health and Stamina, along with Increased Health 5 and 6. Mitigation 6 was the last level of that skill he could take in this Tier, adding another 60 points to his innate armor. Just that skill would have made a difference in that fight. Even those crazy katanas had barely been able to hurt him until she'd made over a hundred swipes at him. Weapon Damage 4 used up the last of his points. He planned to pump that skill up as high as he could this Tier. Watching Grinder and Hungrydog shrug off his hits had been scary. As he spent the points and gained more STR and CON, he felt his muscles change and shift. He needed to stretch out after that, something that felt good in the hot sun. After stretching, a small nap, and some more thinking, he figured he should find a way out of here. Rolly said there was always a path, but it might be a long one.

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Walking along the beach, he finally came to a wide dirt path that led up into the mountain that loomed above him. Over the next hour, it became a narrow and rocky path with occasional stairs that wound back and forth, finally coming out in a wide open area where three ancient women sat in front of three huts, with spinning wheels in front of each, spinning thread from goat hair. A narrow path continued up the mountain. They looked up as he entered.

"Don't be shy, is this your first time here? Aren't you anxious to return home? We know a shortcut we could tell you of..."

"Hush. He was sensible and took his time, contemplating his death and wondering if he had anything to live for. Maybe he needs time to stay and think about a new life?"

"You're both fools. He has nothing in his head but children's games and playing in the sand. He's a simple boy, made for simple tasks, and needs our help."

Ozzy looked from one to another. They seemed identical except for the arrangement of warts, moles, and chin-hairs. "It sounds like I have a choice to make."

"Indeed, for the way home is long and tedious."

"As it should be!"

"But we know of a quicker route that will shorten your steps."

Ozzy looked past them to the stairway and shrugged. He figured that he might as well hear them out. "A short walk is better than a long one. What do I have to do?"

"To regain your home in a day, you must gain the blessing of Apollo."

"A difficult task, as the Sun is unwavering in its path."

"But he travels the world, and those that please him may travel with him."

"Sounds difficult, but I bet you three can help. I suppose there is some small task you need done? Or maybe a price to pay?"

"Such a small price."

"Just a pinch of your soul."

"You have so much, why not share?"

"How about the tasks?"

"Three tasks you must do."

"And each is perilous."

"Each failure will bring death and make your way longer."

He sighed, seeing how this was going to go. "Well, I'm just a simple village lad. I need things explained to me in simple words. Tell me about the tasks, they are probably beyond me, and I'll need to pay your price, but I need to know for sure."

They nodded, licking their lips and anxious to complete the bargain.

"At the top of the stone stairs is a village that worships Apollo, God of the Sun."

"Only they may eat the grain from the Fields of the Sun and walk unharmed in their blazing glory."

"And only they may eat the flesh of the Cattle of the Sun, in exchange for their care."

"A troll has stolen the scythes used to cut the grain and asks for seven children of the village in exchange."

"The Cattle starve in their pens, with no feed from the fields, and the grain stalks have grown heavy."

"The people of the village have no grain or meat, and must choose starvation or their children."

"You have a choice: Aid the village, or walk past on your long way back to the lands of the living."

"You will know the children died. The village will curse your name."

"Apollo will be wrathful, and what man wishes to endure the Sun's anger?"

"For a pinch of your soul, I will give you an ointment to endure the bright fields."

"For a pinch of your soul, I will give you the Trollbane Sword, to kill your foe."

"For a pinch of your soul, I will give you a charm that will keep you safe from the hungry cattle."

Ozzy scratched his head and pondered things for a bit. "Tempting and generous offers, ladies, but I think I'll keep my soul intact and be on my way."

The crones muttered as he turned and walked away, ascending the stairs three at a time, and whistling as they went.

"I told you this place is bad for business."

"You wanted to be near the beach!"

"Let's head to the isle where pigs talk like men."

The Crones left for better business opportunities. On the beach, a long wave reached the chessboard, pushing forward a pawn to a new space.

The people of the SunVillage tell a tale of how, in their time of need, Apollo sent a Hero to aid them. The Ur-Troll had come in the night and eaten one of Apollo's sacred cattle, spreading the fat on its hide to prevent the sun from burning it. Then it had stolen the ancient scythes used to harvest the wheat they grew in their fields, holding the tools for ransom.

They prayed to their god, and a Hero was sent. As tall as three men and made of fire, he wrestled Trostvarnax, the Ur-troll, breaking its back, and his flame was so hot that the troll's body was turned to rendered fat, bone, and its empty skin. The skull of the troll was mounted on a post as a warning to both trolls and crows. With driftwood and troll bone, he made a wagon that no six oxen could pull, and filled it with the grain he cut in the fields, bringing it to the village to feed both people and animals. A bull from the herd challenged him as he brought food to the herd, and they fought until the Hero crushed the bull's skull with an iron fist. The herd quieted after that and fed on the grain, and not the Hero.

Flour was ground, and bread was baked for a feast. The Hero brought the bull to the village and offered it to the ceremonial fire, cooking it himself with smoke, troll fat, and spices. As the sun set in the land of the living, the Sun God's chariot appeared, bearing Apollo and his young apprentice. The Sun God was happy to see that all was well with his people, and happier still that he was in time for dinner. They feasted long into the night, and as sunrise approached, the Hero left with the Sun God, returning home with gifts.

Marcy, Vernon, Ricardo, and most of the new recruits appeared at dawn as they resurrected, none of them looking happy. Many glares were turned on Vernon, and even Ricardo looked annoyed with him. Marcy overheard bits of the story as they complained. Vern had led them deep into the Lair of the Underrodent until they were totally surrounded and wiped out.

Ben, Rolly, and Suzette were there, waiting for Ozzy. Ben sighed, "Looks like you have a date with the Hellpit, Rolly."

"Yep, I'm going to have breakfast first, though."

Something roared overhead, trailing fire and smoke. The chariot circled the town twice as it slowed, finally coming in for a bumpy landing. Ozzy was standing in the back of a golden chariot pulled by four flaming horses. A young, redheaded boy was the driver. He turned to Ozzy, "Told you I'd get you here in one piece. When can you teach me the trick with the sharks?"

"Stop by some time, and I'll give you a lesson. I expect you'll figure it out quickly."

Ozzy waved to him as the boy cracked the reins and the chariot became airborne again, just missing the top of the bank. Then he turned to his friends. "I took a shortcut. I'll tell you all about it over breakfast." After a welcoming hug, he handed Suzett a bag of wheat seeds. "And something to add to your seed collection, but don't plant them until we have a hot summer."