Chapter 374: Ben's 11

Chapter 374: Ben's 11

"OK, team, let's go over the mission again. And please remember that we are using code names for the rest of this operation." Ben was dressed in a red/black checkered suit and a Guy Fawkes mask. He was using the codename Jester. At some point, when going over the plan, he insisted on picking codenames for everyone.

"Meatloaf?"

"I drop first with my bag and aim for the tower. Why the codenames?"

Ben glared at Ozzy. "Because I like codenames, and it will screw up some divination spells. Do you remember who blinded the Cyclops?"

"Thank you, Fearless Leader. Odysseus used a fake name and kept out of trouble; we will, too."

"Moving on, what's your job, FL?"

Jagular skill and is an expert dropper.>

Anyone who had seen Rolly or Squirmie drop from concealment to ambush a monster would agree with that. Their hunting cry of 'Helloooooo' was feared now throughout the Beastwoods.

"Silver?"

"Levitation. I'll ride down with Meatloaf and keep him light and fluffy for as long as possible." Suzette was in her guise as the Silver Sorceress. To everyone except Rolly, Ben, Ozzy, and Squirmie, she was a rogue Fae sorceress who had taken up residence in town recently. Suzette was 5'6 with dark black hair and was nothing like this woman. Silver was over six feet tall, with the large green eyes and long pointed ears common among the high Fae. Her golden hair streamed down past her waist.

"Bag Lady?"

"Cuddle up in that spacious mancave and enjoy myself. And, uh...and make sure people can breathe and keep the bag light as a feather."

"Teeth?"

"Smack Bag Lady in the head if the air gets stale or we start dropping too fast. Once down, I help Mr. Meatloaf with whatever he needs me to handle. And I can certainly handle a lot." Jenny and Viv had repeatedly argued about what she could take with her on the mission. Vivian insisted she needed to feel at home in Ozzy's bag for her magic to work. Jenny had finally allowed the bag hag to load her favorite furniture into Ozzy's bag. Once Vivian was inside, anyone else who entered the bag could breathe inside. Her magic could also reduce the bag's weight so Suzette could levitate both the bag and Ozzy.

"Gorgeous?"

"I'll make all those poor dears better. I can feel them from here, trapped in waking nightmares and endless pain. I'm glad I have lots of cookies for this trip." Granny was quite pleased with her code name and drooling with anticipation of eating the bad dreams of an entire sanitarium.

"Fido?"

"Help Teeth unload the bag and set up the getaway plan." Rolly had been spending a lot of time practicing with his Shapechanger ability. Currently, he looked like a large black dog with oversized feet. Unlike Squirmie, whose Hound imitation had fooled even a High Fae, he was still having trouble moving like a dog.

"Hotstuff?"

"Eat tasty bacon, pretend she is a dragon. Roar! and inflate my beautiful balloon." Myrna was glowing. The little kobold fire shaman had lounged in a fold of the mainsail on the journey here, absorbing a large amount of heat. She was half-drunk with power, and Ozzy was keeping an eye on her. Myrna was keeping an eye on the little bag of Battle Bacon he had on his belt.

"Squirrely?"

"I'm on doors. Hopefully, there is some good wood in them. I've never worked with dungeon wood before."

"Cracksman?"

"Picking locks, finding traps, and handling the treasure vaults, which, I will mention again, it would be good to have some information on." Mcteeth had been delighted to be asked to go along. He'd learned the hard way that it was better to be on the inside of this group than on the outside. When they told him they were raiding an insanely dangerous tower to rescue a few crazy people, he assumed they just forgot to mention the treasure vaults, it being such an obvious goal. If you had a magical tower, you had treasure vaults; everyone knew that. He kept bringing up the subject but, to his disappointment, he hadn't been given any information on where they were.

Jester gave a thumbs up. "We drop in two minutes. Everyone except Meatloaf, Silver, and Fearless Leader, get in the bag and get comfortable."

Vladimir shrugged and followed Jester out. He looked at the inflatable dragon, the kobold eating enchanted bacon, and nodded to himself. "It might work, but you don't have enough lift. Are you leaving people here? Or are your extras diving off the top and taking a long walk back from the nether realms? I don't recommend it. This place is hell already and connects to some bad places."

Silver came over to him. He looked at her, noting her Fae heritage. "Ah, one of my mother's people. How does it feel to lose some of yourself every few minutes? Excruciatingly painful, I imagine. I have only half your heritage, and my father's dwarven blood balances it, so I am insulated somewhat from the pain of my device. I heard you scream; the next will be worse. If I had known how my work would be used, I never would have let Damien talk me into helping him make it. Ironically, one of his kin is here. Don't look so surprised, Mr. Jester; I can smell a Franklin a mile away. Now tell me of this job."

Silver smiled at him. "We need your help to construct a teleport pad. Politics and the Mages Guild are blocking our Baron from completing the work. We have the stone, the enchanted metal for the runes, and runecarvers to assist you, along with several academics. But we need your genius to finish the job."

Vladimir looked interested. "The mages guild opposes your Baron? That would almost make me take the job, but I am beaten and tired, and this place has sapped my soul. Do you have beer there? I crave beer and fine wines to drink and a soft bed to sleep in with my wives and the sun on my face. Promise me those."

Silver nodded, knowing that this was a contract of some sort. "I know of a tavern with fairly good beer and interesting wine where you can drink for free. I'll find a house that will hold your family with a suitable bed and windows facing east."

He shrugged. "Almost you tempt me, but what of my wives?"

"Where are your wives?"

He squatted on the floor and began drawing pictures of three human women in the stone, using just a fingernail. "Three wives, all of them beauties. I wooed them from my cell and have never so much as held their hands. You must free them as well. Forty-five seconds."

Ozzy strode over to them. "We'll get themmy promise. Silver, get in the bag, now! You follow her. It's safe inside, and Vivian has enough alcohol to get a squad of soldiers drunk."

Vladimir giggled as Silver crawled into the bag. "Ooooh, You have one of the Hefty Bags? I haven't seen one of these in centuries, and well planned. But I will wait for my wives. Free them, and I will get in your bag. Ten seconds."

The pulse lit up the tower again and screams from inmates and the new arrivals filled the night.

Ozzy yelled to Myrna, "Start it up, Hotstuff."

The kobold wobbled drunkenly to the tube coming from the dragon's rear end. She mumbled to herself. "Disgusting little halflings." Putting her head into it, she burped, and an explosion of super-heated air partially filled the dragon-shaped balloon. "Meatloaf!! More bacon!"

Ozzy handed her more and started chewing on some himself. He noticed where the tube connected to the dragon. "I'll remember that the next time I deal with those guys. Hurry it up, people. How many prisoners do we have to free?"

A large talking dog raced up the ramp, escorting three young women who screamed joyfully and ran to Vladimir. Everyone noted a family resemblance between the three despite the horrible state of their hair and dress. All began crying. Vladimir gathered them into his arms and led them to the bag. "There are a dozen more besides my little dears. Unless you want their deaths on your souls, you will take them all."

The Butcher agreed. "I'm not leaving anyone here to rot. Get back down there, Fido, and tell them to get moving."

More prisoners were freed; some were unable to walk or unconscious. Another pulse hit, and the Mcteeth collapsed out of mana. The dog grabbed him and drugged him by the collar to the bag. Jenny was holding the anchor line of the dragon, keeping it from moving. Other, less secure lines were tied to rocky outcrops on the wall. The Butcher had grown to ten feet tall to gain enough weight to anchor his end of the dragon. Jenny watched him, smiling, as he breathed fire into the dragon. She appreciated and would remember the display of power.

The kobold had eaten half a dozen pieces of bacon and vented a huge burst of heat but was swaying back and forth now, exhausted. Ozzy pointed towards the bag. Myrna looked up at the fully inflated dragon as she stumbled to the entrance. It was truly a work of art, and some trick of the hot air circulating inside made each part move. The wings slowly moved up and down, the tail curled up and lifted, and the head moved back and forth, one eye winking. Myrna glared out it. "Filthy minded little hair-foots! Obscene winkings and tail-waggings should be done in private!"

Jenny agreed, "Yeah, that sure does look like the dance you keep for mating season. No wonder that wedding had problems."

Ozzy huffed and puffed again, blowing out heat like he was lighting the main sail of a ship, then tied off the end of the tube and hooked it to the gondola. "As long as it gets us out of here, I can deal with a little erotic dragon dance. Get inside, Hotstuff." The kobold scrambled inside the bag, still shaking her head.

Gorgeous came walking up from below, looking much younger and leading several men and women who were in a daze. "OK, children, just follow me into the bag, and you can take a long nap with no more nasty things bothering you. This is all but the last one, Meatloaf. They should have him up soon. I'm getting in the bag before I lose all this lovely power."

Ben, Rolly, and Woodrat were looking at the last door. It was different from the others, a complicated thing made of metal and stone, covered with movable pieces that might be a lock or a trap. They heard someone humming from within, but all attempts to get their attention had been in vain. Ben looked at Woodrat, who was looking badly exhausted. He'd used all of his smoke to warp the doors of the cells. Rolly had helped him load the pieces into the bag and, despite the exertion, was looking better. "Head up and get to safety. Make sure he gets there, Fido. I have a bad feeling about this door and don't want anyone around when I try to open it."

Rolly grabbed Woodrat and took him up the ramp. Ben stared at the door, noting how the hinges were situated and the lack of a keyhole. The runes were familiar to him, as was the locking mechanism. It just needed a spark. Taking his sword, he removed a small crystal from the pommel and touched it to a conjunction of three runes, releasing the storm-aspected mana inside the crystal battery. Wheels spun, and levers disengaged as the door opened before him.

The opulent room inside was huge, with walls covered in equations, scribblings, and obscene drawings. An old man wearing a pair of tattered pants, goggles, and nothing else was looking at Ben, and holding a dangerous-looking pen in his hand. His tangled white hair and beard went nearly to his knees. "Careful now, I'm not afraid to get ink all over both of us! I won't go easily into the long night!"

Ben held up his hand and turned it to show the ring on his finger. "Time to leave, Uncle Damien; I've got a dragon ready to fly us out of here."