“I would report her whereabouts to you, so you know there’s an intruder on the premises,” they hissed.
“You’re hired. Next.”
The lacertian and their crew joined the orcs off to the side.
Next in line was a manticore. It growled and lashed its scorpion tail at me. There was a large gap between the manticore and the other minions.
“I don’t have enough meat to feed you.”
The manticore lunged for me, the point of its tail aimed straight at my heart, its enormous fangs aimed at my neck. It would try to pump me full of venom while it ripped my throat out.
I teleported out of its way.
The manticore soared through the air, its wings flapping behind it, but it was too heavy to change course midair. It landed several feet away, long claws gouging the polished floor as it skidded to a stop. It roared a challenge and raced toward me.
A spear punctured its left wing. The manticore growled in pain and shifted its focus toward the new threat.
One of the lacertian’s stood a few feet away, their hand still outstretched from their throw. Their yellow eyes widened as they realized they’d only wounded the beast, not killed it.
The manticore lunged toward them, mouth opened wide.
Fyodor ran up to it and smacked it with his club, sending it into the crowd of minion hopefuls. The humans screamed at the monster in their midst and scattered.
The manticore’s tail lashed, striking at least one of the fleeing humans. They made it a few steps before the poison slowed them down and they stumbled, falling face first onto the floor.
“Mimsy,” I called.
The imp appeared near my shoulder.
“Do we have any manticore antivenom?”
“I’ll check!” Mimsy zoomed off.
The orcs and lacertians had cornered the manticore. One of the orcs grabbed its tail, holding the stinger up and away from everyone while the manticore lashed out with its fangs and claws. The flapping wings smacked two other minions in the face, keeping them at bay as they tried to wrestle the beast into submission.
“I found some, Mistress Wilde!”
“Apply it to the human, if he’s still alive,” I said, waving toward the manticore’s victim. “But save some in case our new hires need it.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
One of the lacertians finally plunged their spear into the manticore’s heart. It gave a pitiful roar before its body fell limp and slipped out of its captor’s hands.
I stared down at the manticore, wondering how it had gotten here in the first place. Was it one of the creatures inhabiting the cursed forest? I’d never seen signs of it before, but the forest was vast, and I’d rarely wandered outside of Traumstead before assisting Trey with the quest. Had this beast always posed a threat to him?
“Your lordship?” an orc tentatively approached me.
“Yes?”
“Can we eat it?”
I stared at the orc for a long moment. “Isn’t their meat poisonous?”
“Not to orcs.”
“Then yes, you may eat it.” I thought of the kitchen fiasco from last time and added, “Do you know how to use a stove?”
The orc nodded eagerly. “I wanted to be a professional chef,” he informed me proudly. Then his shoulder slumped. “That … didn’t work out.”
