MoboReader > Fantasy > The Adventures of Larson and Garrett - Infestation

   Chapter 2 No.2

The Adventures of Larson and Garrett - Infestation By AaronDennis Characters: 5113

Updated: 2017-12-29 12:02

"Well, listen, Dude, " Larson started in. "Find yourself a nice job in the mines. You're big. You'll do well there."

"Lighten up, " the thin man said to Larson. "This, Dude, or what have you, has the right to seek adventure, and your claim that all dungeons are picked clean is inaccurate."

"Thanks, " the Dude started to say, but the thin man raised a hand to cut him off.

"The Labyrinth of Zanosh certainly has treasure hidden within its walls, " the thin man attested.

"The Labyrinth of Zanosh is a Gods damned death trap filled with magickal traps!" Larson retorted.

"Well, certainly, but anyone with even a rudimentary understanding of protection spells can wander down a few levels and make out with some treasure, " the thin man replied while waving his hand dismissively.

"You're being as dense as that, Dude, here, " Larson howled. "If such rudimentary protection spells can get anyone down a few levels then people have been down a few levels and picked those areas clean. Don't you see the flaw in your logic?"

"You know what, " the thin man said. "Leave the Dude out of this. I'm clearly not as dense as he is, but I have to admit…you do make a valid point…perhaps rudimentary understanding was poor phrasing. All I meant was that there are dungeons in this world left to crawl for those with guts, and if you'll recall, you used to have guts, so maybe don't go giving the Dude such a hard time."

"My name is Darrell, " the Dude said with an upward inflection.

"Shut up, Dude, " Larson and the thin man said simultaneously.

Larson then glared at the thin, blonde man. I had guts? Larson thought. The two men defiantly raised a brow at each other. The thin man then ran a hand through his long, blonde hair, smiled, and introduced himself.

"My name is Garrett, Garrett Ansalle."

"Do you know me, " Larson asked, slowly.

"You're Larson Ross."

There was such a silence in that coal miner's tavern that everyone heard a mouse fart. It was a squeaky, little sound. Apparently everyone knew the name Larson Ross, and they had all grown interested in the conversation that had ensued, although Larson had been too loud and animated to notice it before. He then glanced around the room. Most people quickly looked away.


"You fought with Holden, " Garrett said.

"You knew him?" Larson's voice was firm.

"Of him…I heard he died recently. I'm very sorry."

"Who are you guys?" the Dude was obviously baffled.

"Larson, here, was a top notch adventurer, " Garrett replied. "Unfortunately, his

good friend and mentor recently fell in battle. I'm Garrett, a world class, um, " Garrett's eyes darted about for a moment. "Oh, ah, I'm a world class fencer. Yes…that's it."

The tavern remained quiet for a moment, but eventually the singer started up again, glasses were emptied, and Garrett offered to buy Larson a round. Larson, Garret, and the Dude, slowly wandered over to Garrett's table where they resumed their conversation, and Larson resumed drinking.

"So, Dude, " Garrett started. "What's a young fellow like you want with adventure anyway? It's a difficult life."

Larson eyed Garrett. He did not look seasoned at all. In fact, he looked like a bookworm playing adventurer; someone who read one too many embellished tales.

"My mom's sick, " the Dude whispered. "I need to find a way to get some money quick because the healer's increased the price of treatment, and if I can get my hands on something that's worth a lot, I can make a lot of money and buy her cure."

Larson winced. A wave of guilt washed over him. He had treated the poor youngster so harshly, and all the boy wanted was to help his mother.

"You'd be better off finding a good job, " Larson warned. "Your poor, sick mother would be worse off if you got yourself killed in Atjibur."

"Mayhaps a subtler adventure then, " Garrett asked, cheerfully.

The Dude perked up, but Larson shot Garrett a look of mild contempt. "Don't get him killed."

Flashes of that day at Barry's in Pallisade erupted in Larson's hazy mind. Garrett frowned. His eyes grew fierce. Either the tavern's torchlight created a magnificent glare off his baby blues, or there was a real fire behind those eyes.

"I've never gotten anyone killed, " Garrett said with a constricted tone. "And I don't intend to start with the Dude."

"You guys know my name is Darrell, right?"

"Pipe down, Dude, " Larson said. "Garrett…I'm hesitant to ask, but what have you got in mind…not that I'm entertaining the idea."

Garrett's frown immediately morphed into a Cheshire cat smile. "My friends in the elven community in the mountains would like a cave cleared of a goblin infestation—just a nuisance I wasn't going to bother with. There's no fee attached, you see? And I only came into town to see if someone else was interested in the job."

"So you thought some fool want-to-bes were going to jump at the chance to get creamed by goblins?" Larson furrowed his brow.

"What's life without a little zest, eh?"

"I can do that. I got a good sword and everything, " the Dude claimed.

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