The Butcher of Gadobhra

Chapter 478: Wheelbarrow FTW

The sun rose on a bleak and dreary day, mostly obscured by clouds and rain. Marceline grinned. It was perfect for drilling the new troops. They'd last longer with the rain cooling them down, and be twice as miserable. She and anyone else who wanted breakfast before they started were heading to the tavern where the Baron was supplying them with simple but nutritious food. She'd actually complained the first day. The quality had been too good. She wanted the troops to train on the same type of food they'd be getting in the field.

The cook shook her head in wonder, "You want basic, gritty muffins without a bit of sweetening? Cold, hard, cured sausages or barrel meat, and pickled turnips? Sure, I can do that, maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day. I'll have to get some worse food from the legion and ask the Butcher to make some sausage special for me. He doesn't do normal, boring sausage any longer." The cook had been good to her word and the following day, breakfast had been dry, horrible groat muffins and sausages hard as boot leather. Someone had smoked them for months to get them this hard.

She filled a small sack with a day's worth of food and headed to the training field, cutting through the main square where she saw Ricardo sitting by the fountain. "Aren't you supposed to be with his grand pompousness? You're scheduled to train for two hours this morning, then log out until the afternoon and be back for evening training."

Ricky shrugged, "That was the plan, but the bunnies disagreed. I managed to get him to kill seven rabbits yesterday. That's a third of the amount I saw a nine-year-old girl kill in her first fight ever. I had to save his ass twice so it amounted to 60 experience points. Then he 'took a nap' without logging out. That's a mistake I won't let him repeat."

Marceline was cursing inside at the pitiful experience but made a mental note to find the girl killing a score of rabbits. It always paid off to learn about possible recruits and encourage them. She'd started training in martial arts and boxing at seven. "You left him alone and let something eat him?!"

"Hell no! I was babysitting his ass and only a foot away. No one told me about the undead! It got dark, and suddenly I was being attacked by a horde of zombies and skeletons. Bunny zombies and skeletons! Level 1 and Level 2. I could handle them easily, but there were a ton of them. I turned my back for a moment, and a Zombie Big-Boned rabbit dragged Vern out of the tent, and they killed him in seconds. I'm waiting for him to resurrect and then I'm putting him in a wheelbarrow and pushing his fat ass to the hill so we can get started."

Marcy had wondered about the wheelbarrow parked near the fountain. "Yes, do that. The debuff will be only partly gone, but make him kill a couple anyway, then take a nap. Shake him awake when it's time to log out, and do anything else to wake him. That's an order, don't be polite about it."

Ricky smiled slightly, "Yes, ma'am."

"But, you said 60 experience with his mace? Did he earn his first point of strength?"

A second later, Unca Varn appeared, "Oh, god, what a hangover. Why am I back here?"

Marceline picked him up, dropped him in the wheelbarrow, and handed her bag of food to Ricardo, "Here's breakfast. Get going. I've got some thinking to do." A minute later, she was back in the tavern, sitting at the bar, "Oh my god, I need a drink."

The barmaid grinned, "A little early, but you're in the right place."

"Sadly, about two years too early, according to the stupid rules. Got anything non-alcoholic and tasty?"

"Sure, how about a Fizzy Maple? Sort of like a sarsaparilla, but I ferment it out of sweet maple sap. I'll take the alcohol out of yours." Within two minutes, Marceline had a tall glass of a fizzy, sweet, maple-flavored drink.

It disappeared quickly, and the barmaid handed her another. "How do you take out the alcohol if it's fermented?"

"Just a barmaid trick, alcohol is poison, and I can pull it out and neutralize it. I'm sure all barmaids pick it up if they get a high enough level. We serve a lot of drinks in Sedgewick, and I pick up experience fast."

"Well, it's good. And the sugar helps, going to be a long day, with one hell of a big problem." Marceline began to relax, and the day didn't seem so bad. Even thinking of Vern didn't bother her.

"Heading into a dungeon?"

"Ha! I wish. No, I took a contract to get someone into fighting shape, and it's tougher than I expected. He's having trouble killing the Fat Rabbits."

The barmaid giggled, "Some people have problems with the fat, fluffy things. I have friends who work for the Baron, the Contract Workers from another world. They attacked the rabbits in a group and still almost lost. Workers aren't fighters, and they all learn that lesson the hard way. Is it like that with the person you're helping?"

"No, he's just old, fat, and pompous. He doesn't have the stamina or the strength to fight more than a couple of rabbits before he collapses."

The Barmaid excused herself for a moment, walking to the basement and returning with a full wooden barrel on her shoulder. She casually set it in place next to the row of beer.

"Sounds like you'll need a pick-me-up now and then. I'll make sure to keep the Fizzy Maple on tap." She waved as the mercenary captain went out to train her troops.

Day two for Ricky and Vern started with Vern sitting contentedly in the wheelbarrow as Ricky ran to the hill. As he helped the old man out of the makeshift conveyance, Vern remarked, "We should do that more often. It reminds me of my palanquin and bearers in my city." He actually looked happy as he hefted his mace and headed to the nearest rabbit, only stopping once as he climbed the small hill.

Ricky had been coaching him on the importance of his first strike, "You get a free shot with these things. Stand behind them quietly, then slowly raise your mace and swing down as hard as you can on their head with both hands. If you can stun them, you'll get another free shot. Keep a wide stance so they don't knock you over with a push. And very important, don't attack from downhill. One push will send you rolling all the way down." Vernon seemed to take the advice seriously and followed his directions. The strike hit the Fat Rabbit dead center of its head, and it slumped forward, stunned. Vern slowly raised his mace and hit it again. By the time the fight started in earnest, his foe was at half health. Victory followed two minutes later. ȑἈℕó𝐛Ês̩

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After a short rest, he managed to kill another, and finally a third. "I'm exhausted and need food. I can't keep up this grueling pace!"

"Kill one more, and we'll have breakfast here, log out, and have a second breakfast at the ranch."

The thought of a second breakfast motivated Vernon. He moved over to where a group of three rabbits had emerged from a group of bushes and wandered away to begin munching grass. Ricky was trying to make the plate of muffins and boiled meat look appetizing and wasn't watching as Vern shuffled into position behind his next victim. If he'd been paying attention, he might have noticed this rabbit was slightly bigger.

Bunko Bulgar

Named Boss Stout Rabbit (Increased health, mean.)

Vern brought down his mace as before, but this time the rabbit turned around while rubbing the bump on his head and growled at him. As Vernon was raising his mace, legs spread wide, Bunko took aim and head-butted him in the groin. Vernon crumpled to the ground, moaning. Bunko kicked him in the ribs twice and then began to jump up and down on his head. Ricky looked up to see Vernon being brutalized by the angry rabbit. He raced up the hill but didn't make it. Vern was replaced by a headstone, and the rabbit scampered away. Just before it dove into the bushes, it raised an angry fist at Ricky. Cursing, Ricky took the wheelbarrow back to the fountain in Sedgewick and logged out to start his day dealing with Vern in the real world.

That evening, Marceline saw the wheelbarrow, cursed, and headed to the tavern to drown her sorrows in Maple Fizz. The Barmaid was a good listener, at least, and someone to talk to. Everything was going well with training the new recruits. And the mercenaries who had fought down south were recovering. The fighting had been too much like a real guerrilla war for them, with the psychological effects of constantly dying. But they were looking forward to the next campaign as she explained small parts of the plan. This time, they'd be on the attack, and not defending. Her only problem was getting 'Lesser God-Emperor Unca Varn' in shape. Her normal training regimen was going to take too long, with too many days lost to death.

The next morning she met Ricky and Vern at the fountain. "Let's get moving. I bought healing and stamina potions from the alchemist to speed things up. It's costly, so we'll use them sparingly. Ricky got Vern settled in the wheelbarrow and took off down the now-familiar path. Even when Ricky hit a bump or the wheelbarrow tipped to one side, Marceline noted Vern wasn't in danger of falling out and somehow always kept his balance, smiling and enjoying the ride.

"HALT! Bring up your character sheet."

Vernon Throckmorton

Titles: Unca Varn, Lesser God-Emperor, War Road Builder

Class: Lesser God-Emperor

Health: 100

Stamina: 50 (100)

Mana: 160

STR: 1 (-4)

CON: (-8)

DEX: 0

AGI: (-4)

INT: (-2)

WIS: 1 (-2)

CHA: 3 (-4)

PER: 0

COR: 1

Experience: 390

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:

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 3

Berate Minion (CHA), Rank 1

Ceremonial Mace (STR), Rank 1

Impressive Trough Feeding (WIS), Rank 0

Warmongering (CHA), Rank 0

Lead From the Rear (INT) Rank 0

Secondary Skills:

Obliviousness to Danger (WIS), Rank 1

Lack of Empathy (COR), Rank 1

Political Infighting (INT), Rank 0

Leadership (CHA) Rank 0

Tertiary Skills:

Palanquin (AGI), Rank 0

"Palanquin? You've got a skill for people packing you around."

"It's traditional for God-Emperors to be carried by their citizens. I find it very comfortable and restful. By the time we get to the hill, I'll have lost the resurrection hangover."

Marceline looked at the description. "Let's test something. I'll push, and we'll get there faster." Except they didn't. Vern had to grip the sides of the wheelbarrow to stay inside and bounced out when they went over a large root.

Ricardo looked on with horror on his face. "Oh, please, no."

Marcy grinned at him. "Sorry, but it looks like it's just you. It has to be a minion or an underling for the skill to work. I don't work for him, but you do. From now on, I want you to wheel him out to the hill and back each day, and during his little naps, you roll him around the base of the hill. It's a tertiary skill, so it's going to take a lot of trips to even get a point of AGI into him. But on the bright side, you might get a new CON skill out of it."

She handed him the bag of potions. "Keep him alive. If the Named boss is around, move to the other side of the hill, and don't kill it. We can hopefully get him some Enhancement Points from killing it later. I want him back in Sedgewick after killing four rabbits this morning, then out here for his second round this evening. Go as long as you can, even if he dies."

She started walking back to town, thinking she may need to think outside the box more, and she knew just the person to get some advice from.

Ricky was having a hard time seeing the bright side, even when, later that day, he got a new Tertiary Skill: Porter (CON).