The Butcher of Gadobhra-Chapter 486: Sightseeing

Vernon woke up with the dawn, a mechanical rooster call playing loudly in the speakers placed in each bedroom. Typically, he ignored it by putting a pillow over his head, but today, he managed to get up, stumble to the shower, and catch a little of the hot water. The hot water tank was linked to all of the guest bathrooms, and if you weren't quick, you would be enjoying an ice-cold shower. Throwing on his overalls and white T-shirt with the ranch logo, he was almost ready to go when Ricardo came to his room. His assistant was surprised. Usually, it was a half hour of work to get Vern dressed. Today, he'd managed everything but his boots, defeated by not being able to reach his feet. He'd lost ten pounds while at the ranch, but it didn't make a dent in his large stomach.

"Help me with the laces. I want to eat something decent for a change."

"Sure, Mr. Throckmorton. You seem in good spirits today."

"I am not. Let me assure you of that! Last night, I was tortured, terrorized, poisoned, dissolved in acid, given dangerous drugs, and finally murdered with fire. And my experience with ACME HR was disappointing when I filed a complaint with HR about what I was forced to go through."

"Ah, and what did they say?"

"Whoever the new head of HR is, Billy has her in his pocket. The message I got back was, 'Suck it up! You got three levels in a day!' The nerve of that woman. She has no idea what she is talking about. But it's clear to me now that if I want a pound of flesh out of Billy, I'm going to have to work harder for it. I'm not letting a man half my age steal my job!"

Ricky decided not to point out that Billy was barely a third of Vern's age. If hating Billy got Vern moving, that meant they'd leave Nebraska someday. "It's a damned travesty of justice, sir. But you can do it. Billy's playing right into your hands. He thinks you don't know how to play the game, and he's wrong. We need to take advantage of every power-leveling trick they throw at you so that when you get back to the South, you can retake control. The board will see the money pouring in and have to admit they were wrong."

"Thank you. I'm glad to see that at least one of the younger generation at ACME can see through Billy's smokescreen."

"Absolutely, sir, and I can tell you, I'm not the only one. There is a growing sentiment among junior managers in the game division that things aren't going as they should. Billy is moving people around, firing people who stand up to him, and promoting the sycophants hanging on his bootlaces. When you retake control, you'll have a loyal group of people ready to assist you."

Vern stopped and looked at his assistant. "That gives me some encouragement, Nicky. Spread the word: Vernon Throckmorton isn't done and hasn't forgotten about them."

The first breakfast bell rang, and Vern started stumbling as quickly as he could. "Hurry up, Nicky. I want to have a full breakfast today, even if it's a damned salad and eggwhites!"

Chet came up from behind, smiling and showing off his perfect teeth. "Now that's the spirit, Buckaroo! Good to see you joining the possee! Eat hearty, we're going on a trail ride today!"

Ricky looked from Vern's bulk to where the horses were being saddled. Chet noticed and held him back a few steps while Vernon surged to the buffet. "Don't you worry, son. We've got a set of steps to get him in the saddle, and a big horse to carry him. We'll have him strapped in so tight, nothing can make him fall off. Quick-release buckles, of course. If he starts looking like he's passing out, we have an ambulance following along. He's probably never experienced a good ride before. But he'll get used to it. And there's nothing like a few raw spots on the legs and rear end to motivate you to lose a few more pounds. We've got tasty trail food for lunch, and we'll have you two back in the afternoon and tuck you into your pods for a little vacation time online."

When Vern and Ricky entered Genesis, two of the ACME minions were waiting for them, smiles on their faces. He was used to underlings smiling at him, but was learning to be wary of the minions in this town. They were terrible at following orders.

Ben slapped Ricardo on the back, "Hey, sausage buddy, good to see you again. His Excellency sent a message for you to report to him in Gadobhra. Something about TPS reports. Best hurry, he's a busy man."

Ricky had no intention of getting on the Baron's bad side and took off at a jog. "I'll meet you at bunny hill, Mr. Vernon, fast as I can, and tell you anything I learn."

Rolly, meanwhile, was showing Vernon the new palanquin. "Isn't she great? The blacksmiths helped us put it together overnight." The new vehicle was a wooden throne covered in leather and mounted on two long metal poles that would let two people carry it. Underneath was a deployable wheel, turning it into an oversized wheelbarrow that would let one person push it like a wheelbarrow or pull it like a rickshaw.

"Isn't it great? Reclining padded leather seat, sun shade, footrest, and a drink holder. We went all out for you. It even has an attachment for your mace. It slots into the armrest and is held steady. After all, no one wants to hold up a heavy mace for the long parades when you review your troops."

Vernon nodded. That seemed to make sense, and the chair was certainly comfortable, and the armrests would make it easy to lean back and nap while they traveled.

"We need to make up for getting lost yesterday. We got so excited to be assigned to you that it went to our heads. We want to do better today."

Uncle Vern looked from one to the other, trying to see behind the friendly grins. Unfortunately, he'd never been good at understanding people to begin with, and now his new skills, Lack of Empathy and Obliviousness to Danger, worked against him. Added to that were Ben and Rolly's roles, their natural acting skill, and the enhancement, Trust Me, that both had taken. Doddering didn't help matters at all.

"Very well, then let's be off. And none of your shenanigans from yesterday."

"No, sir, we know the way."

Vern leaned back and relaxed after they left town in the right direction. But instead of taking the path to the bunny hill, they stayed on the wide stone road as it headed to Gadobhra.

"This is the wrong way! Where are you idiots going?"

Rolly was in front and yelled back. "To Gadobhra, of course! Baron Billy needs you to see the improvements he made so he can get your advice. Lots of stuff has changed. It's almost 10% repaired."

Ben shook his head, disagreeing. "You forget the new sausage factory and the upgrade to the Butcher's Guild Hall. That brings it up to almost 12%!" fгeewebnovёl.com

"True, true. And those are major tourist destinations."

Through the gates of the city, they ran, increasing speed as they went, and making a small loop around the ACME building and the new centers for higher learning. Vernon was staring at the tall towers, one of which was being struck by lightning from a clear sky. Billy had been busy. Vern looked forward to taking the city back from him. He'd have to compliment Billy on the work and urge him to do more. Dreaming about doing terrible things to Billy made him miss the point when Rolly took a hard left and began running through a graveyard. Starving ghouls sensed the easy meat riding in the strange chariot and charged.

Ben yelled, "Grab your mace, Mr. Vernon."

Vern grabbed the handle but found his weapon was attached to the chair, sticking out at a 90-degree angle. Rolly twisted and turned, lining up a ghoul to side-swipe. The silvered head of the ceremonial mace connected with the ghoul's head, and the momentum of the speeding palanquin did the rest. They raced onward, managing to wound another ghoul before coming to the gates. Vernon screamed at them, "Quick, you idiots, turn this thing around. I nearly killed that one! And we have them on the run!" A glint of battle fury was in his eyes.

"You heard the boss, Rolly. Back at them!"

Racing back and forth through the graveyard for an hour netted Vernon five ghoul kills. At that point, the remaining undead were tired of chasing the loud, ranting meat that said bad things about them. They slunk away into their holes, thoroughly demoralized and hungry. Vern was barely able to talk; he was breathing so hard. Ben called for a sausage break and healed him up.

"Some good ghoul slaying there, Mr. Vernon."

Vern stuffed a second sausage into his mouth. "I should say so. We sent those things scurrying away with their tails between their legs. I'm starting to get the hang of this fighting stuff! Onward. Show me the sights of my...I mean, Billy's quaint little town. Show me this new sausage factory. I may want to pick up some free samples."

Ben and Rolly picked up the palanquin and started jogging down the road, with the Beast Woods on their side. Suddenly, Rolly stopped and swiveled his head, seeing something in the brush. He yelled out, "SQUIRREL!" and raced off into the woods, pulling the palanquin behind him and forcing Ben to hold it steady and try to anticipate Rolly's wild turns around one tree or another. A giant fur-snake slithered into their path, but Rolly stepped on its head and kept running. From the trees overhead, a Drop Bear dove down to attack but mistimed its dive, hitting the sunshade instead of landing in Vernon's lap. It bounced off the heavy leather, trying for Ben, who ducked and let it go over his head.

Vernon was roaring at Rolly as branches slapped him, and he was slammed back and forth in his seat.

Rolly pointed, "There it goes, into that little cave!"

As the three of them raced by the Sphynx and headed into the menagerie, she looked on with curiosity. The Shepherd had warned her of his visit, but she doubted that anyone had warned the hunting party of disguised Fae nobles led by Bob, who had entered before them. She'd wondered when Bob and his group entered the Menagerie if any of them would ever return. She hadn't been impressed with the four Fae nobles accompanying him. All of them were under two hundred years old and sure of their ability to deal with anything in the mortal lands. She'd seen this attitude among too many young warriors and eaten quite a few. Bob himself had seemed nervous, repeating his warnings about not splitting the group and not charging the first monstrosity they saw. The nobles' reactions had been rolled eyes and snide comments. She held her counsel, as none of them, except Bob, had greeted her properly, and Lord Moonracer had even made a joke about her ribbons. She had thought of dealing with the insult then and there, but Bob might have felt obligated to defend him. Better to let them enter the Menagerie and see how their hunting adventure went. Since Lord Moonracer was anxious to find a worthy opponent, she helped by placing a small curse upon him that increased his scent to predators.

Her judgment of the parties' chances proved correct. Lord Reginald of Sun-in-the-Vale had raced ahead and encountered a large bear with three snake heads. He wounded it with his lance but took a small wound from one of the heads. Ignoring the weakness in his knees and blurry vision, he fought on, lopping off two heads before falling off his horse. Bob skewered the beast through the eye, killing the remaining head, then attended to the dying lord. His effort to reclaim the Countess' poisoned lands had made him knowledgeable about antidotes, and he now packed several with him. Reginald was cranky about the damage done to the third head and began complaining while the grooms packed away his trophies. Anxious to get their own kills, the other young Lords raced hither and yon, finding creatures and either slaying them or dragging them back to the group, hoping for aid.

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Lord Moonracer, in particular, was having trouble, twice finding mutated aberrations that squealed with hunger and raced through the old zoo to find him. None of them, however, were suitable for mounting on a wall.

This led the group to venture further than Bob had intended. The center glade was the home of much tougher beasts that Bob had only hunted with full groups of older, wiser Fae Lords. Each time, something different laired in the glade, surrounded by a twisted iron fence with only one way in or out. Bob recognized that barrier for the trap it was, not so the younger lords, oblivious to danger in their eagerness to hunt the most dangerous of prey and bring back an impressive trophy. Baronet Lakeshine spurred his mount into the center of the open area and shouted out a challenge to combat while one of his footmen tooted a bent and battered horn. The bearers, footmen, skinners, and chefs accompanying the hunt were quite nervous and stayed close to the opening in the fence.

The Baronet's challenge was answered by a loud roar that tapered off into a hawklike scream as King GRalWK emerged from a pile of straw and announced himself. His form, this time, was bipedal, standing on large chicken legs that supported a thick, rotund body of a pot-bellied pig. Two powerful, ape-like arms beat his chest, making his fat stomach jiggle and sway. The head was reptilian, like a chameleon, complete with large, independent eyes. Like any true king, GRalWK had a crown. Just a normal-sized one, but it gleamed with gold and jewels. A beaver tail completed his strange appearance.

"Ha! What a beast! It will look fabulous mounted in my father's throne room." He spurred his horse at the King, intending to put his lance into the beast before dodging to the side."

Bob called out in vain for him to wait and let them attack together. The other Lords laughed at the idea. There was no glory in fighting like an army. Poisons and antidotes weren't the only things Bob had studied lately. He'd become an avid student of mortal animals, trying to understand the twisted monstrosities better. In particular, he was remembering something about the feeding habits of the mundane swivel-eyed lizards. Lakeshine found out as well when a long, sticky tongue unrolled and shot in his direction and lifted him from his saddle. King GRalWK's jaw unhinged, making ready for his next snack. Only Bob's timely intervention saved the lordling from a gristly death as he spurred his mount and slashed at the long tongue with his Enchanted Blade of Slicing, a gift from Oberon himself for services that would not be named. The King of the Fae had thought it fitting since the weapon had a minor enchantment that cured poison thrice a day, something Bob was going to need. Now, the sword's most powerful enchantment sliced completely through the tongue, upsetting GRalWK quite a bit. He retaliated by knocking Bob and his steed head over heels, then grabbed Lakeshine's horse and stuffed the entire beast into its distended maw, stuffing it in and chewing to break it apart.

The other three Lordlings charged as Bob tried to recover, and Lakeshine was slowly dying from the poison and acidic saliva he was coated in. The tongue held him tight, pinning his arms to his side, slowly tightening and breaking his ribs. The fight went on, neither side wanting to retreat. King GRalWK took wound after wound as the Fae Lords slashed at his legs. The hungry boss seemed content to concentrate on killing the horses and eating them, his undulating belly growing larger. Bob stood and prepared to enter the fray. His horse was down with a broken leg, and he refused to retreat and leave his steed to be eaten. Beating his shield to gain the beast's attention, he prepared for victory or agonizing death, expecting the latter.

He was quite surprised when a strange type of chariot burst through the opening of the fence and raced to the fight, but he recognized the voices.

"SQUIRREL dead ahead, ramming speed, Mr. Benjamin."

"Weapons deployed, Mr. Roland. Captain Vernon, give the order."

"Turn around, you blithering idiots, and get me out of here!"

"Certainly, sir. We'll ask Bob for directions."

Bob watched as they raced at King GRalWK. Ben unexpectedly did a backward somersault and abandoned his post, landing behind Rolly and sliding to a stop. Bob yelled his war cry and slashed one of the knees on the closest leg, getting the boss's attention. Rolly drove the palanquin right at King GRalWK and, at the last moment, pushed down on his end, raising the from poles in the air with their sharpened Dark Steel blades sticking from the end. The blades entered the beast's undulating belling and didn't stop until the poles were entirely engulphed, and Vernon found himself pushed face-first into the foul-smelling belly fat. Whatever he was ranting about came out muffled and overshadowed by the King's roar of pain. Two huge arms grabbed the palanquin, ripped it out of his own body, doing even more damage. Raising the strange thing to his mouth, he pushed it all inside, as he had with the horses.

When asked to build the palanquin, Jorges and Marion had done their usual and over-engineered substantially. The entire frame was made from Dark Steel and iron wood, then covered in tough layers of cured sedgebull hide, making it far tougher to chew than bones and flesh. Vernon found himself being slowly crushed and simultaneously poisoned and dissolved by the King's potent saliva. The King, for his part, wasn't enjoying the meal. He was choking, and the sharp metal poles were doing terrible things to his mouth. Bob rallied his troops and attacked while the monster had both hands occupied, vainly trying to stuff Vernon down his throat. Two of the Lordlings went down from slaps to the head, underestimating the reach of the legs and the power of the beaver tail. Ben was keeping Vernon alive with constant healing, but was barely keeping up with the damage he was taking. Rolly was slashing at the legs with Bob and finally cut through one of the thin chicken legs, forcing the boss to hop madly.

From somewhere, a small creature flew at the boss's head, spitting webbing that glued its hands to its mouth for a few seconds. Squirmie took that time to dart to the top of the King's head and rip off the shiny metal crown. <HA! Mine!>. Then, she sniffed the air, turning to look at Moondancer. "Oh, don't you smell delicious."

Rolly yelled at her. "Kill now, eat later. This thing is regenerating, and fast."

Bob had seen that, too. "Indeed, I was worried when I saw how the creature concentrated on eating so much. Its belly is getting smaller as it regenerates."

Rolly nodded. "Makes sense. So we have to do more damage than it can heal. I think you and your crew need to back off a few steps so Ben can cut loose."

Bob knew what that meant; he'd seen it at close range. While Phoenix Fire had a healing component, Fae did poorly with Godfire and would burn just like the monster. He grabbed his remaining Lordling and dragged him back, leaving Rolly and Squirmie slashing away at the second leg. With a last slash, the leg buckled, and King GRalWK fell to the ground. Rolly could see the first leg was almost healed. Vernon was screaming from inside the mouth, now halfway down the throat.

Ben began casting his most powerful spell, blowing through his mana with double casting and invoking the power of RA to double the first three flaming strikes.

Bob and the other Fae retreated further, feeling the power of not one but two Gods searing their flesh. King GRalWK burned, losing health far faster than he could regenerate. Rolly and Squirmie were on top of him, slashing like madmen, taking advantage of the healing from Ben's spells. By the time Ben ran out of mana, they'd carved through the boss's spine to his stomach, where they found a tombstone.

Rolly struck a pose, hand over his heart. "Mr. Vernon never quits, does he. He gave his all so we could reap the benefits, even giving the king indigestion. He was the true hero of this fight."

<He's not getting my crown!>

"Oh, don't worry, pretty bug. He's getting his rewards. Go root around in that loot chest for us while I heal Bob's horse and put some Band-Aids on the little Fae."

The King is Dead! (Don't worry, he'll be back.)

For the valiant deed of slaying the ruler of the zoo, King GRalWK, each member of the hunting party has earned 20 Enhancement points, along with a souvenir statuette of this incarnation of the King.

Minions of Lesser-God Emperor Vern have earned 20 Enhancement points and 5000 Boss experience points.

The Lesser-God Emperor, for his interesting contributions to the battle, has earned 10 enhancement points, along with 2000 Boss experience split between Ranting, Acid Resistance, Lesser Poison Resistance, and Obliviousness to Danger. Destined for Greatness adds +5 Enhancement Points.

Vernon Throckmorton

Titles: Unca Varn, challenger of the God-Emperor. Destined for Greatness. (Bonus Advancement Points)

Lesser God-Emperor: +1 CHR, +1 STR, and +1 Free point per level.

War Road Builder: Extra Rewards for Winning Battles

Class: Lesser God-Emperor in Training

Level 5 (Two Free Points to assign.)

Health: 640

Stamina: 340 (680)

Mana: 690

STR: 9 (-4)

CON: 8 (-8) Rank 6 if Cap is raised.

DEX: 0

AGI: 5 (-4)

INT: (-2)

WIS: 5 (-2) (Rank 6) if Cap is raised.

CHA: 7 (-4)

PER: 0

COR: 1

Experience: 5550

Conditions:

Poor Diet: Eating poorly has sapped your strength and stamina. Lifting and carrying capacity is at half. Stamina is halved.

Centenarian: All negative stat effects from conditions are doubled.

Elderly: +1 WIS, -1 CON, -1 STR

Obesity: Speed is lowered to 50%. -2 AGI, -1 CON, -1 STR

Doddering: Your mind wanders and lacks focus. -1 INT, -1 CHR, -1 WIS, -1 PER

Decrepit: -2 CON, -2 CHR. Your body is past the point of obesity and unhealthy, sliding into death. Any damage taken is doubled until you have a positive CON.

NEGATIVE STATS ARE TREATED AS ZERO FOR CALCULATING HEALTH, STAMINA, and MANA.

Primary Skills:

Ranting (CHA), Rank 5

Berate Minion (CHA), Rank 4

Ceremonial Mace (STR), Rank 4

Impressive Trough Feeding (WIS), Rank 2

Warmongering (CHA), Rank 0

Lead From the Rear (INT) Rank 0

Secondary Skills:

Obliviousness to Danger (WIS), Rank 4

Lack of Empathy (COR), Rank 1

Political Infighting (INT), Rank 0

Leadership (CHA) Rank 0

Acid Resistance (CON) Rank 4

Lesser Poison Resistance (CON) Rank 4

Tertiary Skills:

Palanquin (AGI), Rank 5

Fire Resistance (CON), Rank 1

Battle Fury (STR), Rank 1