The Good Guys Chronicles Box Set Read online

  He made a disgusting gurgling noise, a green black ichor pouring out of his mouth.

  A quick tug let me know the spear wasn’t leaving easily, so I snatched the sword out of his limp hand.

  The next goblin was moving towards me in a bizarre fashion, and I was exceedingly confused for a moment until I realized there was another goblin right behind, hiding as well as forcing his buddy into me. A living shield. The shield goblin swung his little sword with vim, vigor, fear, and randomness. I thought about parrying his strikes, but it was easier to just stand back out of the way. As soon as he paused to take a breath, I lunged forward with a thrust, plunging the sword in as hard as I could. It went straight through both goblins.

  A notification popped up.

  DOUBLE KILL! Brutality Bonus! By killing two enemies at once, you’ve managed to make one plus one equal three! Congrats on the double XP for the kills!

  I grimaced and mentally yelled at the notification to get the fuck out of the way so I could see. Then I snatched up a goblin sword and gave it a heft. This one was straight until the end, where it kinked to the left, and had a very clumsily done edge on it. It was more of a club than a sword. All the goblin weapons seemed like they were custom-made. Or, you know, custom-scavenged.

  Three goblins remained: two wee ones, and the boss.

  In a surprising act of courage, one of the scouts charged at me, sword way back, preparing for a massive swing. He looked like he was posing for a heroic painting.

  As if I was playing tennis, I planted my foot and pushed my whole weight into swinging the club-sword. The pointy bit went straight into the goblin’s skull. Dude died instantly.

  I decided I’d had enough of being reactive, so I charged at the boss goblin. Big mistake. I stepped right into a crater and sank into snow up to my waist.

  The boss smiled at me.

  “Time to die,” he grunted.

  The grubby green-skinned assholes came at me from either direction. I could barely move. They were cautious for a moment, creeping at me with their stupid snow shoes keeping them on the surface. Maybe they thought I’d set a clever trap.

  I hadn’t.

  I tried to back out of the snow, but my feet kept slipping on something, glacier droppings at the bottom of the hole I guess. I just couldn’t get traction.

  With little choice, I just smiled at the boss goblin.

  This enraged him. He lunged forward, swinging his big sword right at me.

  I leaned all the way back, dropping into the snow just in time to watch the blade sail by.

  Kicking my leg out, I connected with the boss goblin’s right knee. With a sharp crack, the dude tottered over, crying out in pain.

  The other goblin paused, which gave me enough time to get back upright. A quick swing of the sword didn’t exactly cut the boss’s head off so much as it crushed it Gallagher-watermelon style.

  I scooped up the big curved sword with all the rings before turning to face my final foe.

  We locked eyes for a moment, unsure who would make the first move.

  The little asshole turned and burned, running away from me.

  I took a chance, and hurled the big sword at the retreating goblin.

  The sword looked pretty fucking awesome tumbling end over end through the air. I held my breath, hoping it was going to just carve through the coward.

  Not so much.

  The sword hit, I was on target in one respect, but the impact was more pommel than blade. There was a very loud thunk, and the goblin face-planted into the snow.

  I crawled out of the deep snow, then ran along until I caught up with the struggling goblin. For a moment, I wondered if killing the thing was the right move. Clearly, it was a sentient creature, possessing its own language, and—

  DAMMIT!

  The little fucker stabbed my foot with an obsidian dagger.

  I gritted my teeth and grabbed the boss sword. With a wide and wild swing, I lopped the asshole’s head clean off, and watched the oversized head twirl through the air until it landed and disappeared in the snow. A miniature geyser of gore erupted out of the shorn neck.

  Done with the carnage, I sat down.

  Then I threw up.

  Chapter 11

  I sat in the snow, feeling the pain radiating out from my injuries, and I let the world wash over me. I also took the time to go through the notifications I’d received during the battle.

  GG! You’ve killed a Goblin (lvl 1 Scout).

  You’ve earned 50 xp! What a mighty hero you are.

  GG! You’ve killed a Goblin (lvl 1 Scout).

  You’ve earned 100 xp! (Base 50 x 2 double kill bonus) What a mighty hero you are.

  GG! You’ve killed a Goblin (lvl 1 Scout).

  You’ve earned 100 xp! (Base 50 x 2 double kill bonus) What a mighty hero you are.

  GG! You’ve killed a Goblin (lvl 1 Scout).

  You’ve earned 50 xp! What a mighty hero you are.

  GG! You’ve killed a Goblin (lvl 3 Scout Leader).

  You’ve earned 150 xp! What a mighty hero you are.

  GG! You’ve killed a Goblin (lvl 1 Scout).

  You’ve earned 50 xp! What a mighty hero you are.

  Kill alerts. Could be very useful in the future when I wanted to know for sure if I’d managed to kill something.

  Cool beans, you’ve learned the skill Swords. Now you can swing sharp objects and likely not hurt yourself. Soon, maybe you can hurt others. +5% damage. +5% skill.

  Cool beans, you’ve learned the skill Spears. Now you can swing a sharp stick and likely not hurt yourself. Soon, maybe you can hurt others. +5% damage. +5% skill.

  Hey-ho, let’s go! You’ve discovered an ability: THE SWORD OF MY ENEMY IS MY SWORD. You’ve found that, in a pinch, EVERY weapon will do. +1% dmg for each new weapon used in a combat.

  Nice.

  Weird, but nice.

  Then I did the nasty. Which, in this world, meant pawing over dead bodies until I had made sure I had everything of value and the corpses had nothing left worth taking. In this case, it also meant I encountered something odd. While looking over the corpses, I noticed a weird glow about the goblins’ ears. So, uh, I cut one of them off.

  You have found one (1) Goblin’s Ear. You have the feeling this might be useful for a potion.

  Very intrigued, I promptly cut all their ears off, and put them in a pile. I was very tempted to cut open the bodies and see if there was anything glowing inside, but I’d engaged in enough butchery for the time being.

  Most of the loot was useless, broken goblin armor or rusty daggers. But some of the swords looked okay, one of the spears was straight, and each goblin had a pouch. Three of the pouches held coins. One had a bunch of frozen worms, one had a few rocks, one had some jewelry and coins, and the last one had a bunch of dead rats. I dumped out the rats, put the goblin ears into the rat pouch, then tied all seven pouches to my belt. Even the worms. Might need them for fishing.

  Each goblin also had a small ring, most of them around a rusty chain or leather strap, one on his toe, another in his ear, each one with a series of runic letters on it, written in Goblin, and denoting the identity of the Goblin in question.

  I took a moment to actually examine the boss sword, casting my spell on it and everything. I think it was kind of impressive. I had nothing to judge it against, sure, but it seemed cool.

  Goblin Boss Chopper

  Item Type: Trash

  Item Class: One-handed sword

  Material: Iron

  Damage: 8-12 (slashing)

  Durability: 3/10

  Weight: 3.2 lbs.

  Requirements: none

  Description: The symbol of authority for a Goblin in command, the Boss Chopper is a large (for a Goblin) one-handed sword with a swooping blade, sharp on one side. Holes are made in the blade to decrease weight and increase speed, something ameliorated by the addition of rings won in duels or battles.

  In examining the sword, I noticed there were words carved or stamped into t
he blade around each hole that had a ring through it. And, thanks to my perfect knowledge of the Goblin language, I realized that I was looking at the names of those the Scout Leader had defeated in combat.

  There was also the obsidian dagger I’d pulled out of my foot.

  Goblin Sacrificial Dagger

  Item Type: Common

  Item Class: One-handed dagger

  Material: Obsidian

  Damage: 21-25 (Slashing)

  Durability: 8/25

  Weight: 1 lb.

  Requirements: none

  Description: An unbelievably sharp blade used for ceremonial sacrifices to Goblin Gods, Spirits, Shades, Chiefs, Bosses, or Chefs.

  I was impressed how much I learned about the Goblins just by identifying their equipment. I slipped the smaller swords into the backpack, and even though the handle stuck out the back, I forced the Boss Chopper in there as well.

  Chapter 12

  I sent up a silent thanks to Mister Paul for his glorious boon while I let my wounds heal up. Sure, it hurt like a motherfucker to have all the healing happen so fast, but getting stabbed in the leg and having no mark whatsoever ten minutes later? Priceless.

  Now whole, I decided I needed to see whatever the Goblin boss had been so interested in, so I crawled up to the edge of the ridge and peeked over. That’s where I received my first view of civilization in this new world.

  It was underwhelming.

  Twelve, maybe thirteen buildings. They were low and made of dark stone, with heavy snow on steep pitched roofs. Some had smaller outbuildings, perhaps for animals, or maybe workshops. Either a guard tower or a watchtower — I don’t really know the difference — sat at one edge of the village. The whole place was unassuming, but did have one thing going for it: the road that went straight through the middle of the town from one side of the mountain range to the other. It made it the perfect spot for a town, really. A place to collect some tolls, fix a few wagons, feed a few teamsters. And if you ignored the whole perpetual winter, no wood, no way to grow food, no way to be outside sort of thing, you might actually want to stay there.

  I knew I didn’t have much sunlight left in the day, but I decided to watch the village from a different angle for a little longer. I wanted to get a read on the situation, see if it was full of goblins or, you know, people. Hell, I wasn’t even sure people other than me existed here.

  I saw some horses, big black steeds with patterned barding. They blended in with the rest of the bleak darkness that was the village center. Near them, figures in dark armor held blades out to a group of men gathered in a circle. At the outskirts, figures in black held back the other villagers.

  I let out a long, irritated sigh. This was not an ideal first brush with civilization. I’d been hoping for an inn where I could peel potatoes and earn my keep until I had enough money to find a fucking lake and fish. Instead, I looked down on what seemed to be a massacre in the making.

  My first instinct was to steer clear of the village. Let things take their course and, you know, find a different town to set up in. Or I could just wait it out, go into the town post-massacre. That could give me the chance for some free loot.

  Just then flurry of movement caught my eye. A young kid dropped out of a hut’s back window. He made a run for it, and did pretty well. He got to the steep part of the rise that led almost straight to me before four of the figures in black came darting around and grabbed him. They pulled the kid back to the building and slammed him up against it.

  I looked down at the village and thought about my previous life, the world I left behind. The messes I made, the hearts I broke, the lives I destroyed. So much of that was because I ran away instead of confronting my problems and actually dealing with them. Maybe it was time to switch things up.

  Seems like an intelligent decision, thought the man with low intelligence.

  I would stick my neck out and get involved. And anyway, I hate bullies and unfair fights (unless they’re unfair in my favor).

  Four against one?

  Definitely unfair.

  I got up and started running down the hill. Midway down, I lost footing and started tumbling, both goblin spears snapping into pieces as my back hit the snow.

  This wasn’t going to be the grandest of entrances.

  With a slice of luck, and perhaps showing what a good idea putting points into that stat was, I managed to get my feet underneath me and started running again.

  I reached the flat, maybe fifteen feet from the house. One of the figures in black had a naked blade out, swinging towards the unlucky lad. I pumped my feet and barreled straight into the swordsman, giving the asshole a tackle my linebacker coach would have thumped me on the butt in praise for, a blindside hit on an unready opponent.

  My new friend and I flew through the air for the barest of moments before smashing through the flimsy wood wall of the hut. We crashed to the ground on the other side, landing directly in the fire pit in the center of the room. Sparks flew everywhere as I rolled over the figure, whose clothes had started to burn.

  A notification popped up, but I immediately shunted it to the side, and made the mental note to keep the notifications to a minimum for the time being.

  The dude didn’t move. He just sort of lay there, burning.

  I didn’t want my primary possession — my furs — to start burning, so after a quick glance about the really sad and tragic basically empty hut, I jumped through the window.

  Outside, there was a heartbeat to get a read on the situation. The figures in black were wearing cloth uniforms over their armor, which was also black. It looked like a mixture of scale mail and chainmail, with some of the more delicate bits having the scale over the chain. Their helmets were basic, with a nose guard coming straight down. Black boots with black leather trousers — not the best of looks, and a poor choice given the weather.

  I shot my identification spell their direction.

  Human

  Lvl 4 Swordsman

  So there were humans on Vuldranni. That was nice. But these ones seemed intent on my demise. Two of the remaining three held the kid against a wall, while the third stood closer to the hole in the wall, trying to figure out where their buddy had just disappeared to.

  Hint: he’d found the hottest spot in the town.

  The kid, meanwhile, had blood gushing out of his nose.

  All four looked at me as soon as I straightened up after crawling out the window. Then, one of the men in black screamed.

  I snapped my arm out and popped him right in the kisser, quick and hard. He spun a little and started falling towards me.

  The other two let go of the kid.

  I pulled the helmet off the falling man and used that to smash in the face of one of the guys. Then I threw it at the other.

  It didn’t hit him, but it flummoxed him enough that he hadn’t quite gotten his sword out. I knew I had to keep him from his sword, because unlike the goblins, I was pretty sure this guy actually knew how to use his blade. I could be in a world of hurt.

  So, I bear-hugged the man, tight as I could, pulling his feet off the ground.

  His breath was fetid, and his teeth were appalling. He groaned as I squeezed, and did his best to head butt me. But he had no real leverage with his neck. I pulled in as I took in a great big lungful of air. Something popped, and I felt his ribcage give. He had no air in him, and bloody froth came from his lips.

  I dropped him to the ground, giving his face a swift kick.

  But by that point, the man I’d punched had a dagger out and pointed at me.

  The man started to talk, and after a second, I got a pop up:

  Smashing! You’ve learned a new language, Common Imperial.

  “What is this?” the man in black asked the panicky kid.

  “Why the fuck you asking—” I started to say.

  The man in black shrieked at me, his dagger leading the way.

  With a slight twist of my torso, it got stuck in my furs, and not my stomach.

&nb
sp; This left him pretty much wide open.

  I’d done karate as a kid, tae kwon do as a teen, and kung fu as a young man. But it was the few years running as a one percenter that really taught me to fight. Brawling had become my main hobby in the past few years, followed closely behind by running guns and drugs throughout the Western United States. The single stab from this asshole showed me that these guys were relying on fear to get the job done. They didn’t have real fight in them.

  I grabbed his arm and pulled as hard as I could while I turned my body. The asshole flew over me, sailing through the air before slamming onto the ground. Bonus: he left his dagger behind. I tested the blade in my hand as I surveyed the scene around me.

  One man was burning in the fire. One was crushed. One was knocked out from a helmet to his face, and one was probably knocked out from the throw over the shoulder. I could hear running and the jingle-jangle of metal gear coming from the other side of the house, so help was likely on the way.

  I took a deep breath, thinking about Vuldranni — the savagery and the presented realities on display — and I knew what had to do. I cut the throats of all the men around me, and read over their death notifications.

  Meanwhile, the kid was still up against the wall.

  “Get the fuck in the house, asshole,” I growled at the kid. “And stay to the darkness. Might be, they forget you were the reason they came back here.”