Critical Failures III (Caverns and Creatures Book 3) by Robert Bevan Read Free Book Online Page A

all over the van floor.
    “Dude!” cried Tim. “Heal him already!”
    “I heal thee!” said Dave.
    Dennis stopped squirming and passed back out. New, hairless skin closed the wound, and a small squirt of semen seeped out of his dick.
    Tim sat back, groping in his vest’s inner pocket for the pack of cigarettes he’d grabbed from the Chicken Hut. “I guess he still had one left in the chamber.”

Chapter 4
     
    Scott and his crew sat around a lonely table in a dark corner of the Stone Dragon Tavern, the ritziest place their group was still allowed into. While the other three merely sat silently, sulking into their beers, Scott tried to remind himself that all was not lost. They’d had a bad day, but they were still the biggest badasses on the block, at least in this part of town. They could still stir some shit up.
    Eric was doing more than sulking. He was still seething as he sat, bare-chested while he had the tavern keeper clean the vomit off of his armor and undershirt. His half-orc skin was gray and smooth, save for the scars he’d earned in the battles they’d fought since they’d come here. When he was in a good mood, he’d point to a certain one and recall the story behind it. The battle they’d just walked away from wasn’t a story he’d likely be telling anytime soon. Vomit stains were not scars, and defeat was not fun to recall.
    “I’ll murder them all,” Eric murmured into his beer. “I’ll save that half-orc for last. Make him watch while I tear his friends apart with my teeth.”
    “They’re gone,” said Scott. “I know the aura of a Teleport spell when I see it.”
    “Then we’ll find them,” said Eric. “How soon can you get the Scry spell?”
    “It’s a fourth level spell,” said Scott. “I get my first one next time I level up, but I don’t want to waste it on Scry . I want Greater Invisibility.”
    Eric slammed a meaty fist on the table. “Do you want to find those bastards or not?”
    Scott sat back in his chair just far enough so that if Eric wanted to punch him, he’d have to stand up first. “It’s not a problem. I’m a wizard. I can write both spells in my book. It’s just that I get the first one for free. The second one will just be a little expensive.”
    “You’re both wasting your time hunting that half-orc,” said Milton, lifting his beer to his bony face with arms thinner than the legs of the chair he sat on. He grinned in spite of his cloak still being damp with half-orc urine. “He’s well dead by now. I left that jerk a little surprise. That dagger I shoved in his gut was slathered with giant scorpion venom.”
    “It’s still worth finding them,” said Nathan, barely visible in the dark corner. His white teeth gleamed through the shadow of his black hood. “Wouldn’t it be fun for me to turn his filthy body into a zombie?”
    Nathan, Milton, and Eric looked at Scott.
    “That would be badass!” said Scott. “Scry it is, then!” He raised his glass. The others raised theirs and they all clinked together.
    It was no easy feat getting Eric in a good mood when he didn’t want to be in one. Nathan’s suggestion of animating that disgusting half-orc’s body seemed to be doing the trick, though. And so of course some jerk had to come nosing around and threatening to ruin the mood.
    It was either a tall halfling or a short human who entered the tavern’s common room. Scott would have guessed female, but he couldn’t be sure. It was older than most religions, with wispy white hair sticking up in every direction, like it hadn’t been washed in a decade. It only had one eye, and didn’t even bother to cover the other empty socket with a patch or anything. It wore a simple gown which appeared to be cut from a burlap sack, and it held a rusty tin cup.
    “Alms for the poor,” the pitiful creature rasped, clanking around what Scott imagined was supposed to be seed money inside its cup, but sounded more like just a rock.
    The other patrons gave the