The Adventures of Larson and Garrett - Trouble in Atjibur

Trouble in Atjibur

Larson and Garrett Adventure the Fourth by Aaron Dennis

Published by www.storiesbydennis.com August 2015

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Freshly arrived in Fargo, Larson and Garret promptly stabled their horses under the wavering glow of torches. Due to the poor condition of Larson's armor from the recent fight with a khalkataurus, the warrior struggled a moment to remove the worn, steel plates, leaving only his chain mail and leather leggings as protection. He also switched his great sword for a double-headed axe.

"Expecting more trouble?" Garrett smirked.

"One can never be too safe, " Larson replied. "Besides, I'd feel nude without a weapon. I don't see you leaving your rapier behind."

"I'm a world class fencer."

"Are you, " Larson asked dubiously.

The sun had set hours prior to their return. They trekked the cobbled, city streets from the stables back to the coal miner's tavern, passing burning torches mounted on posts along the way. Inside the well-lit building, they took empty stools at the bar. An aging woman with a tired visage approached them, but before they ordered drinks, a stout dwarf with long, auburn hair in one, big braid advanced.

"Heya', lad, " the dwarf cheered.

"Seanessy!" Garrett smiled. "Haven't seen you in a spell."

"Oh, aye, the two of us been busy in our respective fields, eh?"

"Who's this then, " Larson asked, indifferently.

"Seanessy Tidwell, at yer' service, " the dwarf said with a bow.

Larson scrutinized the pint sized dwarf. He wore a brown tunic over black, leather leggings and had a large, two-handed hammer strapped to his back.

"Seanessy Tidwell?" Larson mused.

"Aye, " Tidwell grinned and grabbed his braided beard. "Local brew master for over two decades, " he beamed.

"Brew master, huh?"

"That's right, " Garrett said. "He brews the Axe and Hammer Brown Ale."

"An' it sells for a pence, " Tidwell added. "Lassie, " he called the bar keep. "Pint o' the Axe an' Hammer fer me friends."

The aged woman nodded and poured them each a pint of the thick, brown ale. While Garrett sipped his, and Larson gulped a huge swig, Tidwell writhed up onto a stool next to the travelers.

"So, " Tidwell smiled. "What do yas' think?"

"Nutty, oaky, " Larson said. "Very good. Nice job, Tidwell."

"Aye, call me Seanessy, " the dwarf said and lightly nudged Larson with his elbow. "What brings the two o' yas here tonight?"

"Trouble in elf town, " Larson mumbled between swigs.

"Killed off some goblins, " Garrett explained. "There was a wicked sorcerer among them, and then a khalkataurus appeared from out of nowhere."

"A khalkataurus?" Seanessy exclaimed. "Why thas' dang, blasted crazy!"

Garrett chuckled, adding, "It took Larson's finger right off."

Seanessy leaned in to peak at Larson's hands, which were fine. The dwarf then narrowed his eyes, giving Garrett a look of skepticism.

"I got better, " Larson admitted.

"Golfund, the elf, healed him, " Garrett clarified. Seanessy shrugged, knowingly. "And where have you been scuttled of late?"

"Narry a dull moment 'round Fargo, " Seanessy said. "Sold a crate o' the Axe an' Hammer ta' some merchant goin' ta' Wind Break." Larson laughed at the end of the comment. "What? Ya' don't believe me?" Seanessy bore a look of indignation.

"Of course I do, " Larson smiled. "I just like the name of that town. It's a fart!"

They all laughed and ordered another round of ale as well as some smoked ham. Larson and Garrett, who were obviously starved, devoured the meal. Conversation returned to the khalakataurs, and Seanessy found the finger incident extremely humorous. The tavern door flew open then. Three, young men walked in looking disheveled.

"Someone, anyone, " one of them called out. "We need help."

What few patrons there were—tired from a full day's work—barely gave them a glance. They were local boys all between the ages of fifteen and eighteen. Two had long, dark hair, and one had short, red hair. Larson noted their peasant's clothing—drab tunics and torn breeches.

"Please, our friend Darrell is in trouble, " the red haired teen whined.

Garrett squinted and looked at them. "What's happened, boy?"

All three approached and encroached upon Larson's personal space. He fidgeted, turned, and purposefully crossed his legs so as to tap the closest boy in the hip with his boot. The boy scooted back.

"Darrell went off to the caves of Atjibur, " the tallest one said.

"Not this again, " Larson complained and turned back to the remnants of his smoked ham.

"What's all this then?" Seanessy grumbled. "No one's dumb enough ta' set foot in there."

The boys then explained that their friend, Darrell, didn't have the money he needed to continue providing for his sick mother and finally set off on the quest he'd been musing over for years—finding the treasures inside Atjibur.

"There's no treasure in Atjibur, " Larson argued without turning around. "Who is this Darrell, anyway?"

"The Dude, " Garrett said, flustered.

"Oh, for crying, " Larson muttered and shook his head. "I'm not going to save him."

"Please, Sir, " the red-haired, young man begged. "You're Larson and Garrett."

"An' Seanessy, " the dwarf howled out.

"Uh, yeah, " the young man noted in bafflement. "And, and Seanessy. You've got to help us. He's our friend."

"I told that mutt to stay out of that place, " Larson said while spinning around to face the young man. He then jabbed his finger into the boy's chest as he spoke. "You kids are all the same, dumb as a box of rocks. You get a sword and an idea, and you think you can run off into a trap laden dungeon to find nonexistent treasure. Well let me tell you, he's got what he deserves."

"Larson, " Garrett intervened. "C'mon."

"No! Don't you jump into this, too. I've done enough free work for the week." With a flagrant wave of the hand, he added, "I'm on hiatus."

Garrett winced and shook his head. "When did the Dude go out?"

"Um, you mean Darrell, " the shorter teen asked. Garrett nodded. "Yesterday, I guess. We didn't know anything about it, but seems he left his mom a note."

"I'm surprised he can write, " Larson murmured, chewing the last bit of ham.

"Then, his mom came to find us, and told us to go get him, but we can't go into those caves. There's like giant spiders, or snake people, or something in there, " the young man said.

"Snake people, " Larson snickered.

"Well, I don't know about you, lads, " Seanessy said and hopped to the ground, "but I'm up fer anythin'!"

"Confound it all, " Larson grumbled.

"I don't know why you're struggling to come to terms with this, Larson" Garrett said in his most mother hen of tones. "You know we're going to Atjibur."

"That's why I'm so damned mad!"

"Shall we, " Garrett asked.

"Will you really help us, " the red-haired boy asked.

"Aye, " Seanessy cheered. "The three finest warriors o' Ruvonia are comin' ta' the rescue!"

Larson shook his head in exasperation. "Daaamn iiit."

He then chugged the last drops of the Axe and Hammer and immediately bolted out of the tavern. Garrett followed suit, and Seanessy trailed behind.

"Oi!" Seanessy screamed. "Wait up fer the dwarf!"

"Keep up, or stay behind, " Larson howled over his shoulder.

Running down the deserted streets, by the light of torches, and the sounds of hissing cats and barking dogs, Larson and Garrett made it back to the stables. The fighter started grumbling all over again about the situation. The fencer rolled his eyes.

"I can never get any peace, can I?" Larson demanded of the Heavens. "I just want to find my family. Why must everyone beg me for help?"

Garrett laughed. "You're too much. What's a warrior without a war?"

"Argh, you're right."

By then, they had checked their horses and saddled up. As they were making their way out from the stables, Seanessy arrived out of breath. A scale mail had appeared over his tunic, but from where, no one had a clue.

"Gimme' a lift, lads, " he shouted.

"Where's your horse?" Larson accosted.

"A dwarf with a horse is like a monkey with a wagon wheel, " Seanessy argued and leaped up and down, making his armor jingle.

"What does that mean?" Garrett chuckled.

"It means I'm a dwarf. I'd be daft ta' own a horse!"

"Well, you're not riding with me, " Larson affirmed.

"He's not riding with me, " Garrett echoed.

"Pick me up, pick me up, pick me up!" Seanessy shouted, still leaping in place.

"Rock, paper, scissors, " Garrett asked.

"Fiiine, " Larson grumbled.

"One, two, three, shoot!" they said simultaneously.

Larson drew scissors, but Garret drew rock. "Looks like you lose, " Garrett said.

Larson had a pathetic look on his countenance. Seanessy was still jumping and shouting to be picked up.

"Two out of three, " Larson cheered.

"Just pick me up, ya louse!"

"Urgh, fine, " Larson acquiesced and stuck his arm down. Seanessy wriggled up and sat behind the warrior. "Easy where you grab, Seansy."

"It's Seanessy, " the dwarf corrected, vehemently.

"It's a long walk for a dwarf, is what it is, " Larson affirmed.

They both grumbled. Garrett shook his head in dismay then belly laughed before shouting out to Lola. Larson ran Duke in a circle, and the three galloped off towards the northeast, back towards the mountains of Lod, and out of Fargo to tackle Atjibur.