Chapter Five. Holmstead.

Chapter Five. Holmstead.

Two fucking days climbing up and down the fucking mountains.

"Motherfucker!" Bob exclaimed as he tripped on a rock, yet again.

Bob hadn't done a lot of hiking, and certainly not in terrain this challenging, and for abso-fucking-lutelysure not in a pair of loafers.

Harv and Elli were clearly taking pity on him, and keeping their pace to something they likely imagined to be reasonable.

They took frequent breaks, where he was offered a canteen, despite them having no need of one.

And through it, the language lesson continued. At this point, both Harv and Elli had succumbed to a real curiosity about who Bob was and how he had ended up in the Dungeon.

Bob just wanted to know where he was, and how to get home. He couldn't help but worry. There had definitely been an explosion. Depending on how large it was, it might take a day or so to realize who was missing.

Given the disdain he'd experienced from everyone there, he doubted anyone would be in a hurry to report him missing.

That meant that a clock was ticking. He didn't know any of his neighbors, and they were unlikely to care anyway. And Monroe was stuck in his apartment.

His heart sank and his chest ached every time he thought about it. Monroe had an endless supply of water, thanks to a fancy circulating fountain he'd bought for his birthday last year. But his food...

He had food for the day. And if got hungry enough, Bob knew from experience that Monroe was more than capable of opening the cupboard and getting into his bag of crunch.

He'd just bought a new bag the day before, so assuming his normal dietary habits, Monroe had about three weeks of food.

Bob knew the litter box wouldn't meet Monroe's stringent sanitary requirements if it wasn't scooped daily, and he would shit in the shower at that point.

That didn't really worry him.

What did worry him was how he was going to get home and how long it was going to take.

That and the fucking gaggle of worthless fucking cunts that had taken his work, mangled it, and blown him clear into what seemed to be another fucking dimension.

Deep breaths. Focus.

Stupid tree roots.

He kept doggedly following Harv and Elli, his deep breathing often a necessity as he climbed up steep inclines, often without anything resembling a trail to ease his passage.

'They've got fucking Magic,' he thought to himself grimly. 'There has to a spell or a ritual or something that can send me back home.'

Harv and Elli were stopped up ahead, apparently, at the top of the small mountain they were trekking up.

Bob stumbled to a stop between them breathing hard.

"Water?" asked Elli.

This was one of the first words Bob had learned.

He nodded yes, and Elli handed him a canteen.

Bob fucking knew that canteen was magic, because he'd yet to see Elli fill it from any of the numerous streams they had crossed (and didn't his loafers just fucking love that), and it held more water than was possible.This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com

He'd tried to ask questions about it, but the language barrier was too high.

After taking several healthy swallows, he capped it and passed it back. Elli took it and then pointed forward, saying "Holmstead"

Bob followed his gesture and saw that they had crested the final mountain. A series of slight hills descended down into a valley, strewn with a patchwork of fields, and just to the left, was a town or a city - how did you judge that anyway? Never mind, Focus Bob!

He could see a river running through the town, and given that the town was probably four miles away, that had to be one hell of a river.

"Homestead?" He tried.

"Holmstead," Harv corrected, going with the tried and true loud and slow tactic.

"Holmstead," Bob tried again and received an approving nod from Elli and a thumbs-up from Harv. He had taught them that gesture and Harv had really taken to it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"What exactly do you mean when you say you 'retrieved' the anomaly?" rumbled Thidwell Orstang, Curator of Holmstead.

Elli and Harv exchanged a glance, and Harv responded "Well, as we said, we found the Dungeon right where it was supposed to be, and when we entered it, we found the anomaly, and then we brought him back."

Elli nodded and picked up the narrative, "He was beating rats to death with his bare hands, and there were drifts of level one rat crystals on the floor. I think he'd been there since the mana spike happened."

"How could there be drifts of crystals?" Thidwell demanded in his gruff voice, "up until five, fifty will do, then through ten a hundred will see you through," he finished, the last said in a sing-song voice as if repeating a rhyme.

Elli and Harv gave each other another look.

"Well?" Thidwell asked.

"Sir," Elli said carefully, "We reckon it's like this. We think he's got A Child's Protection on him. We don't think he is level one yet."

Harv hastened to add in, "When we were jumped by the wolves he took some fearsome bites, even had a chunk ripped out of him. It slowly healed over through no interaction of ours." "And!" he continued excitedly, "He had to have been fighting those rats barehanded for days, he was covered with blood and brains and bones, but he had nary a scratch on him!"

Thidwell rubbed his temples. He looked at Harv and said, "And what does he have to say?"

Elli quickly answered, "That's just it sir, he didn't speak a word of Thaylan, not until we taught him a couple."

Thidwell grimaced. "Well isn't that just lovely," he muttered.

He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment. He wrote a few quick sentences on it, then reached across the desk and handed it to Harv.

"Give that to Alli, and then bring the anomaly in," he ordered.

"Bob," said Harv hesitantly.

"Excuse me?" Thidwell asked.

"Bob," Harv repeated, "The, uh, anomaly, his name is Bob."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Bob was playing with his inventory. It turned out he could take his shoes off and put them back on with it.

Elli and Harv came out of the door, Harv handed a slip of paper to the woman behind the desk, and Elli motioned for him to follow them back through the door.

Bob stood up and did as he was asked.

The room was an office, clearly for an important man. The desk that stood in the center was elaborately carved, and the tapestries? was that the right word? wall hangings anyway, were exquisitely well done, and showcased either a brilliant imagination or were a terrifying representation that dragons were a thing in this dimension.

The man standing behind the desk was intimidating. He looked human. Just... bigger. Over seven feet. His shoulders had to be close to four feet across. He had his black hair shaved on the sides and slicked back on the top, his face clean-shaven. His eyes were a brilliant piercing green. He was by far the most intimidating person Bob had ever seen.

There were four chairs arranged in front of the desk, and the giant gestured to them, clearly indicating they were supposed to sit.

Bob took a seat between Elli and Harv, and the giant took one behind the desk.

Bob glanced around the office, taking a deeper impression. Magic lights of some sort illuminated the room from the corners and the center. The wall behind him held a few bookcases and more wall hangings.

He inspected the ceiling, noting that the stone must have been cut in some fashion to be load-bearing as a room this size would normally require bracing or buttressing of some sort-

The door banged open and a man rushed, looking for all the world like he'd been pulled out of bed. He was wearing pants, but no shoes and his shirt had several buttons that didn't line up and was tucked in on only one side.

The man quickly scanned the room and his eyes focused on Bob.

Bob locked eyes with him, not feeling nearly as intimidated as when he was looking at the giant.

Short, maybe five feet and a few inches. 'Although' Bob thought, that might be normal here, he didn't really have a large sample size to use as a baseline. Brown hair, brown eyes. Stubble. Scar over his left eye.

The man turned, without taking his eyes off Bob, and addressed the giant at the desk "Seems human to me, may I engage him with telepathy?"

The giant growled out "Yes," which is another one of the words that Bob knew.

System User Kelli Armel has attempted to contact you via Telepathy. To consent either Mentally project or Verbally articulate, "I accept" or to resist, Mentally project or Verbally articulate "No"