CWD: Sewer Skewers ~ Eighteen

Nacho basked in the noon sunshine outside the entrance to the Bove’s Lair. He was enjoying the warmth, but observing the murky length of the Muddy River gave him pause. Spring rains had swollen its banks a mile wide at the narrowest point, and they’d probably have to try swimming across. “That water is going to be practically ice, there’s no way we’re going in it.”

At Heartbreak Ridge, they’d divided into two groups. Iron Becky, along with Colleen and about a dozen other people, would escort the wagons back to Armor Mountain. Meanwhile, Nacho would be taking twenty people on the Dragon Spear quest. They left fifty sentinels at the Bove’s Lair, guarding their Costco and grinding out credits from the Scary Shelves by taking out random Costco food court monsters.

The Chips Guild members were warned not to go too deep and to stick with Tier zero monsters. If they met a Tier one, they needed to run like they were starving and the biscuits and gravy were ready. No one from the Chips Guild had spotted any unfriendlies around the Bove’s Lair, which was good.

“Ugh. At least the location of the Costco is still hidden.” Nacho was fairly certain the Dragon Spear wouldn’t be around the Costco. No, it would be farther east, but before anything else, they had to cross the Muddy River without drowning, and he just was not sure how to make that happen. Abyss, in Nacho’s vision, there had been a guild that started a business ferrying people across the Muddy. It had taken dozens of people, with lots of practice, to accomplish it with minimal risk.

Kristie had finally come up for a name for her party, which included Taye and Abby: The Breakfast Club. It was a far better name for the three of them than ‘Generic Party One’, and the other two members seemed pleased with it. Given that Nacho had The Dinner Party, they had decided that with their powers combined, the twenty-person strike team would be called: The Brunch Force.

Six of Nacho’s twenty companions were the best players in the Chips Guild, and the… others… included Scrubz and thirteen volunteers that were attempting to make a name for themselves on this mission.

Upon hearing the name of their raid group, Reuben had gone off the deep end into marketing waters, trying to figure out the best way to make the name stick long-term. “Like using the force, but more brunchy. It’s a force to be reckoned with. It’s a strike team that has both breakfast and lunch menu items? It’s an elite task force, which may or may not include mimosas. The-”

Nacho hadn't been able to last any longer and had wandered off along the banks of the river as Reuben sank into a revenue generation loop. Others meandered over to their leader as well, thinking it was time to go.

“This is going to be terrible. We’re all going to freeze.” Brie was already pricing bathing suits. “Not sure I’m a fan of the yellow and red options for clothing, but it seems bikinis only come in Juxtaposition colors.”

Scrubz had already stowed his armor and was in the process of taking off his flannel shirt.

“Ahh! No!” Nacho put his hands over his face. “Warn us before you start stripping, Scrubz!”

Brie inspected the flowing water more closely and then brought up a real concern. “Listen, I grew up swimming in Kansas reservoirs, which have the visibility of coffee. There is no way we’re going to see any monsters that are down there–I’m assuming there are monsters, right? Catfish eat Putrid Mana from the bottom and grow to become the size of a minivan?”

“We’re going to have to buy boats.” Nacho started outlining his plan. “Two rafts. We’ll ferry the people across in groups. I’d suggest rope, but we’d need a mile of it. We’ll have to  paddle up the river in rafts, against the current, because it’s going to be flowing down. We also need to make sure we don’t lose visibility of the Bove’s Lair, as that gives us a rough idea of the geography underground.

“They should start a smoky fire,” Scrubz suggested as he re-buttoned his flannel shirt. Armor would follow, though he didn’t have much, and what he did have was questionable. He wore a short sword, and he’d bought a spear, evidently prepping for when he got the real deal. It wasn’t clear what kind of Body Player Scrubz was, and he certainly wasn’t telling anyone very much.

Scrubz motioned to the entrance of the Bove’s Lair. “We’ll be able to see the smoke from a distance—actually, we should at least spend the day walking upstream a bit just to look for a narrow part of the river. Or an island. If we found an island, we might be able to come up with a rope system to stretch across the river. Or maybe purchase some timbers. No, we’d want a steel cable. If we had that, we could do a pulley car.”

Was this where Scrubz shined? Coming up with different solutions to engineering problems? Nacho shouldered his mobile kitchen. “Walking upstream is a great idea!”

One of the Bove’s Lair guards promised to keep a smoky fire burning, at least during the day, while the adventurers got a sense of the land on the other side of the river. They hadn’t been shy about keeping a fire lit in the winter, and so far, it hadn’t brought any raiders.

Nacho led the Brunch Force upstream along a game trail. About a half a mile north, they found a long narrow strip of trees rising up on an island in the middle of the river. If they spent four hundred credits, they could buy two rubber rafts, which would carry six people apiece. One pair of oars that came with each one, fitted and locked into the oarlocks. Extra oars were fifty credits each.

Reuben’s eyes glowed while he shopped. “Life vests are two hundred credits each. The Patrons really aren’t all that excited to see us survive this.”

Scrubz suggested they buy two extra pairs of oars, so others could help row, and they’d have some extra if they lost a pair.

After checking, Nacho saw that over thirty thousand credits had built up in the Chips Guild coffers. He teased his standard opponent a bit, “You okay with me using guild funds for the rafts, Scrubz?”

Scrubz shrugged and looked away. “It’s a business expense. It’s not like you’d buy these rafts if you were by yourself.”

Nacho made the purchases without further comment, pulled them from his Storage Slot, and laid them out on the banks of the river. He would go in one boat with Reuben, Brie, and some of the lower-level guild members, while Taye and the rest of the Breakfast Club would go in another. Scrubz and some of the other newbies offered to ferry people back and forth.

Brie was on edge. “This is terrible. We’re practically defenseless! For one, I can’t run anywhere to use Combat Dash, and I’m not going to be able to do my Defensive Whirl in the middle of a raft. Another thing? My hammer is heavy, and I need two hands to swing it. What if I end up dropping it into the river? It’ll be gone for good.”

Hank, a thick middle-aged man with a beard, lifted his spear. “I got my spear, Brie. Hazel can use spells. If anything attacks us, we’ll have your back.”

Hazel was Hank’s wife and a Warlock. Her main move was a magical purple shield, which she had told everyone in no uncertain terms was to keep her husband safe. They were a nice enough couple, but Nacho wouldn’t exactly place his survival in their hands. He rubbed his neck, which suddenly felt very strained. “We’ll just have to hope for the best.”

Reuben stroked his wife’s back reassuringly. “Don’t worry, sweets. I’ll be oaring in the back. You and Nacho will be oaring up front. With Hank, Hazel, and Chris the Katana Guy… we’ll make sure nothing goes wrong.”

Chris the Katana Guy was a short, quiet member of their guild who seemed very nice. He also had a katana. That was one hundred percent of the information Nacho knew about him.

“I love to oar!” Reuben yelled happily.

“For the last time, it’s called rowing!” Brie was already slightly green. “You are not inspiring confidence, here!”

They all stored things they couldn’t bear to lose in their Storage Slots and loaded up the raft with their other gear. The current wasn’t too swift, and with Reuben working the back oars and Nacho and Brie rowing up front, they gradually made their way up the river. About halfway across, they let the current sweep them down until they reached the island. It was only about a hundred feet wide, so they carried the rafts through the sparse forest to the other side.

Breaking up the ride was nice, making it less intimidating to tackle the whole river. If anything went wrong, they had less distance to cross. Scrubz’s and the Breakfast Club’s raft followed them across the first section of river to the island, and then both rafts were making their way across the main channel. Nacho was relieved that they hadn’t been attacked by any monsters, but the water was as transparent as split-pea soup. There could be anything under those turbid swells.

They didn’t run into trouble until they pulled up onto the swampy banks on the eastern side of the river. As soon as the first oar touched the water twenty feet from the target bank, huge creatures splashed through the murky brown river toward them.

They slid through the liquid with only the tops of their heads showing, but even that was far too much for comfort. Going by the long antennae and beady black eyes, along with bodies protected by gray-green exoskeletons, they seemed to resemble crayfish. Strangely enough, most of their back carapaces were covered in black fabric. As they swam closer, it became apparent that they were actually wearing clothes, which wasn’t exactly the best idea for a monstrous crustacean.

Their pincers remained under the surface, likely dragging along behind them as they wiggled up the river. There were at least ten of the creatures, each of them a dozen feet long.

“Why are they wearing clothes?” Nacho shouted his confusion aloud while he rowed as fast as he could.

“I’m betting there’s a pun involved.” Reuben laughed with delight. “Can’t wait to find out!”

Brie slammed her paddle into the water and pulled with all her might. “No banter! Just row! I do not want to fight these things on this boat!”

Nacho and his raft were close to the shore, but they weren’t in the clear yet. Those giant crayfish were coming in fast, but a few seemed to be angling after the second raft, rather than the first. Taye was already on his knees, drawing an arrow back on his bow. Kristie’s hands glowed pink in anticipation. Abby wasn’t in her armor, but she had her staff ready to go. None of them looked at all happy.

The cook finally got a System View lock on one of the crayfish.

Formal Crawdad

Effective Tier/Level:??

HP:?

These were Tier one monsters, and since they were creatures of the water, they had a definite advantage.

“Formal Crawdads?” Reuben asked in wonder. “I’m not getting the pun yet.”

Taye let an arrow fly, and the shaft struck with a mighty *thunk*. The crayfish rose up on its hind legs to reveal its body—six legs, two pincers, and one tuxedo. The black fabric they’d seen poking through the water was the back of a suit coat, and its front was what might’ve been a white shirt if the monster hadn’t been wriggling around in mud. The crustacean's bizarre ensemble was finished off bya very smart bowtie.

The crayfish whistled out a shriek from its bottom-feeder mouth and waved its pincers threateningly.

Reuben laughed instead of screaming in fear, the only reasonable response to this absurd situation. “Oh, that’s just bad.”

Brie considered the muddy mess of the riverbank with a fair amount of apprehension. “I don’t think I can Combat Dash across that. I also need my feet free to do my Defensive Whirl. How can I fight in that slop?”

Hank and Hazel reached the banks and waded out, along with Chris the Katana Guy. Hazel held both hands together, then slowly spread them apart to create a massive purple shield of magical energy. Once the barrier was stable, she hurled a big purple grenade, which detonated in a mishmash of muddy water, pieces of fabric, and small chunks of exoskeleton.

“They bleed blue, they like formal wear…” Reuben knew exactly what that meant. “They’re blue-blooded crawdads!”

“I don’t get it,” Nacho freely admitted as Hank stepped forward with this spear, driving it into the face of one of the crayfish. Hazel continued to stand with the shield outstretched in front of her hands, sinking a second purple shield into the water to keep Hank and Chris the Katana Guy safe.

Arrows and pink missiles flew, striking another crawdad.

Scrubz was rowing as fast as he could, but it appeared that the raft wasn’t going to make it to shore before the nearest monsters hit it.

“Time to get combat ready!” Reuben hit them all with Positive Vibes as Nacho shoved a hunk of leftover goat into Brie’s hands.

Brie swallowed the fatty meat without chewing, choked, then started to chew furiously after a moment of mild panic. She vaulted over the side of the raft into knee-high water, snatching the Splatter Mallet out of one of her Storage Slots. Fixing her feet in place, she smashed a giant crayfish in the head-area with her hammer. A pincer attempted to snap her in half as she hit the monster, but she got the weapon up in time to prevent herself from being crushed. Despite the impressive block, she did earn a nasty gash on her arm which would require healing.

She hit the crayfish again, the mallet crunching through the exoskeleton and managing to kill it. “These things aren’t that tough for being Tier one!”

They also weren’t smart. Instead of continuing to go after Scrubz’s boat, they reoriented as one and converged on Nacho’s people as blue blood spilled freely into the river water.

Reuben grabbed the Dinner Party's raft and hauled it onto the mud of the bank. Nacho hopped out and tied it down so it wouldn’t float away, followed by chucking some goat to Reuben.

Reuben chewed on the cold meat vigorously as he splashed back into the water to heal his wife with a hug.

Brie, Hank, Hazel, and Chris led the Formal Crawdads out of the shallows and onto the banks, where fighting shifted to their favor. Moments later, Scrubz’s raft came sliding in next to Nacho’s. Scrubz and his warriors piled off the boat along with Abby and her staff, falling on the monsters and felling them in seconds. Since Brie could kill one with only two swings of her hammer, they couldn’t have more than sixty Health Points each.

“Looks like this is already practically over.” Nacho called out to his favorite Berserker, “Hey, Brie, can I start processing ingredients?”

“Do it!” she yelled back. “Thanks for asking; it matters!”

Nacho whipped out his chef knife and casually strolled over to a dead Crawdad. He tried to remember if crayfish had actual meat anywhere. “People used to eat crayfish, right? Pretty sure there were crawdads in gumbo.”

He cut off the tuxedo, then regarded the cracked shell of the beast. Blue blood dripped onto the sand, and he was mesmerized by it for a long moment. Finally, he stood up and tossed his hands in the air in confusion. “I have no idea how to cut this thing open, or where the meat is. Or if there is meat. Never been big into seafood.”

“Yeah, you were always more of a Fruit Loops and grilled cheese sorta guy.” Reuben kicked one of the crayfish, his boot bouncing off without leaving a mark or making the body shift. “Crayfish in tuxedos? I don’t know… what that’s about. I admit it, if there’s a joke here, it’s not in my wheelhouse. But I think I know why these things are in such good shape-?

“I know that tone.” Brie leaned on her hammer. “He~ere we go.”

Reuben leaned toward Nacho with his eyebrows raised dramatically. “The Crawdads are so fit because… they train on lobstacle courses.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Nacho booted the monster until it was on its back but was greeted by more exoskeleton. “Hey, Reuben, do you have any idea how you would butcher a crawdad?”

Reuben wrinkled his nose. “Uh, no. I eat mammals and fowl. Crustaceans are basically water spiders.”

Nacho consulted his Aria, but Colonel White Beard made it clear that he was limited to chicken and breakfast foods only. Just to test it out, he tried to activate his Ingredient Processing ability.

Hey, Cookie, what exactly are you cooking? I mean, if you don’t know, we aren’t gonna help you out. You still need to know what you want to do before you can just ‘magic’ it into working.

The cook sighed and searched for a relevant cookbook and information pack, shaking his head at the outrageous price of six hundred credits. Things weren’t going to get any cheaper, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to start cooking crustaceans or insects. “Why are there so many bug cookbooks? Why such a push for that?”

Scrubz walked over. “We going to have a seafood boil on the beach? I’m starving.”

“Sorry, Scrubz, but I don’t have any kind of recipe for that. No recipe means I can’t cook it. I can’t even process the ingredients, so we’re still on regular rations tonight.”

Scrubz looked disgusted, one hand resting on the short sword sheathed at his side. There was no sign of the spear. He must’ve thrown and lost it, but the short sword also looked used. The man shook his head. “I guess I’ll have a pocket pancake I keep around for emergencies. At least give me some of that goat meat to go with it. Abyss, just when I think your cooking thing is worth it, you let me down.”

Nacho gave him a hunk of leftovers, grumbling notwithstanding. Scrubz turned without another word and got back into his boat. Another big warrior that seemed to hang on Scrubz’s every word got in the other raft, and the pair rowed back to get the rest of the Brunch Force.

“You’re welcome for the pancake and the goat,” Nacho muttered under his breath. “Who was that other guy?”

“That’s Eduardo.” Reuben slapped him on the back. “He’s cool. You know what I’ve realized? Scrubz is a lot like these crayfish… just so shellfish.”

Brie walked up to her husband and laid a hand on his arm with a tight smile. “We need to go before I accidentally kill you.”

“Sweetest way to die, baby.” Reuben winked and tipped his leather Helm of Helming at her. “Going out for a good cause, just because my wife says so.”

“Now I need to find something to kill and grill, so people’s tongues I can thrill.” Nacho sighed as he found himself alone for the first time in a long while—which of course happened to be the exact moment that the plants near him started rustling. Knives twirling, he felt ready to take on whatever decided to show up.

An unexpectedly canine face burst through the underbrush, panting and shivering. The green dog hadn’t grown much larger since the last time Nacho had seen it, but it seemed this creature was not meant to deal with winter on its own. It padded over slowly, then lay down at the human's feet with its paws over its eyes.

“Every time I see you, I need to remind you that I am not going to be the one to put you out of your misery.” Nacho was extremely hesitant to allow this creature to continue to follow him and show up in random places, but short of killing it himself, he didn't know what else he could do about the situation. “Wait… you’re here because I said we need something to eat, aren't you…”

Obviously, the dog didn’t say anything. It just looked up at him with eyes full of expectation, its gaze clearly traveling back and forth from his knives to its own body as if begging the cook to slice and dice it.

Reaching down, he picked the little dog up by its scruff and dropped it in the river. It bobbed back to the surface with a plaintive yelp, its verdant body barely able to sink in at all. “Uh huh. That’s about what I expected. Bye bye, vegetable dog.”

He could feel its sad puppy eyes on him as it floated away down the river, but the cook refused to glance toward it a single time to see if it was still floating away. “There is no way that thing is safe or good for my health.”