Tunnel Rat - Chapter 169: "Magic Cheese"

Chapter 169: “Magic Cheese”

Vary raced up the tunnels between Limburger Hollow and Shadowport. Sledemonky needed a scouting report. If there were more humans on the way, they needed to know. The route was easy to follow, and his goggles augmented his usually good vision, making the tunnel appear brightly lit.

Halfway up, he saw the camp of the human raiders. Only a few of them were there, drinking, complaining about lost and broken gear, and arguing about what to do next. Many players had abandoned the raid, and the rest seemed divided on what to do next. Vary crept close and listened to their plans. This group seemed experienced in ‘Losing all of our gear‘ and already had plans to re-equip each person and head back down to the ratkin area to either finish off the caravan or get back the gear trapped in their graves.

Vary headed back down the tunnels and raced into the Hollow. He put on a burst of speed as he ran across the outer cave. The collision with something shocked him; nothing had been in his way! He and someone else went tumbling across the rocky floor. Vary was severely bruised; his mechanical armor took a beating and protected him. Not so the poor ratkin he had run over. Vary had heard the snapping of bones as they collided and now heard their pitiful cries of the person.

Vary stood up, feeling empty and guilty. He should have been paying more attention to where he was running! He was only an apprentice engineer; what if they kicked him out? Sledgemonkey and Justin were running over. To Vary’s surprise, the older Engineer slapped him on the back hard. “Nice work. Justin’s been looking for this one for the last couple of hours.” The guard nodded and smiled as he tied up the injured ratkin, ignoring his protests and cries of pain. “That’s right. It was driving me crazy. I kept hearing his breathing when he got close, but I couldn’t find him. Now that is some darn fine skulking, yessir! But you ran up and found him easy. Tall-Squeak will be happy we finally found him.”

“You can’t do this to me! I’m the Cheese Master! Do as I say! This is all the dwarves’ fault. That one struck me from behind. I demand you let me go and allow our friends from the caravan into the Hollow!” Rifkin was yelling at Brutus, but his words weren’t affecting the glassy-eyed guard.

Brutus finished tying Rifkin up and propped him against the wall in a sitting position. “Funny, Master Tall-Squeak warned me you’d say exactly that. But you aren’t a Master. Masters have rings. So you sit there quietly until he gets back.” Rifkin ignored the part about being quiet and kept up a constant stream of complaints until Brutus gagged him.

“Told you to be quiet! A good guard needs to catch the sneaky guys, and I can’t do that with you rambling on and on about nothing.” Brutus went back to listening carefully and guarding the tunnel. Rifkin sat and fumed to himself. Baracuda and the spider were quietly drinking buckets of beer and telling exaggerated stories about their adventures.

The mess hall was a chaotic mess. There was a long line of hungry ratkin that went out the large doors and looped around the outside wall. More of them sat at the tables, or on the floor, grumbling. No one was cooking or making food. Rifkin’s crew of players had abandoned the job.

First was the problem with the cheese. The bags containing small chunks of spider cheese had gone missing. They argued over and over about whose job it had been to watch them, how many bags were there, and whether or not they’d just run out and not noticed how much they were using. They were confused by eating some of the cheese and had trouble deciding. MickyD tried to get into the cheese hoard downstairs, but the doors were locked.

MightyMarmot tried his hand at making regular pancakes. After making a dozen burned and lumpy pancakes, he gave up. They argued more but agreed on one thing: They’d joined Rifkin for big rewards and a chance to fight in his ‘Glorious Revolution.’ They’d gotten neither.

They’d had much more fun learning to fight and adventuring in the mines. They ate some of the horrible pancakes, ignored the line of hungry ratkin, and went back to the arena. The place was packed with both experienced and beginning tail-fighters. Gilad was happy to see them. “Ah, more of my students come to learn the ancient secrets of fighting. I appoint each of you as ‘Leader of two claws. You will be given ten students each to work with. We will drill the basics, then move to small unit tactics and a few ten-on-ten battles. Begin!”

Blackwhisker was happy for the recognition. “Finally, someone rewards us for our hard work. Let’s each grab a gang and get to work.”

Milo and his best scouts arrived at the mess hall to find it in chaos. Hundreds of hungry people were waiting, and no one was serving food. “We need to start feeding people, or we’ll never be able to cook up the puffcakes we need. What other ways can we make pancakes?” Milo was hazy about how food was made if it didn’t come from a food processor.

The twins looked at each other and licked their lips.

“Cheezey Pancakes.”

“Just like mama makes.”

They found a large cookbook and opened it to a well-used spot in the large book.

“Mushroom floor, sugar…”

“Yeasty water to make them fluffy.”

“Butter and oil mixed for good frying.”

“Something…something…um…something?”

“One of those somethings is buttermilk.”

“Well, of course…just giving you a chance.”

“Another is rock hen eggs.”

“Of course! And only the green part in the center.”

“Save the gooey part for whipping with sugar for topping.”

“And cheese.”

“Much cheese!”

“Cottage Cheese, fruit, and nuts.”

“Or ricotta with blueberries.”

“oooh! How about Gruyere and bacon…tasty!”

Milo sighed and looked at the book. “What cheese do we have a lot of downstairs?”

“Cottage Cheese is plentiful.”

“Many casks of it. The cottages were bountiful this spring.”

They settled on walnuts and raisins in the Cheesy Cakes with a sprinkle of parmesan. As people were fed, Milo looked for more helpers in the kitchen. Most people walked off to their jobs, but some of the inhabitants of the Hollow seemed lost. When Milo asked them for help, they appeared almost thankful and got to work mixing batter, washing plates, or grinding nuts with a passion. Some asked if ‘special cheese’ was available, sure they were supposed to eat some. The twins smiled and pointed to the Chessey Cakes, which seemed to satisfy people.

Once the kitchen had enough help, Milo started mixing up Puffcakes. Inside a cabinet, he found gathering bags used for food stuffs and filled four bags with the tasty golden pancakes. Putting some in his ring, he grabbed two others and a bucket of jam and headed to the infirmary.

Things were worse when he got there. Many injured Ratkin had been brought in from the fight in the gathering fields. Some only had minor bites, while others were covered in dozens of small spiderling bites. A handful had died from the potent stings of the Noble spiders. Milo took his food into the kitchen, and the cooks there began distributing puffcakes to anyone wounded by a spider bite or sting. With a huge plate of food drenched in syrup and a bag full of puffcakes in his ring, Milo went to give Larry his breakfast.

Larry looked horrible. He was slumped against the wall, unmoving. His wounds were weeping a black fluid, and the bandages and poultices needed changing. Milo got him to eat a little, pushing the puffcakes into Larry’s mouth. Gendifur came running up with a large bucket of dressings and bandages. “Good, you made it back. Larry is being difficult. He only wants you to help him and says other people need me more. I don’t like the look of those wounds. Clean and feed him; if that doesn’t perk him up, I will start him on more potent medicine.

“Larry. I need you to be a Hero and eat. You need food to fight the poison.” Milo helped him sit up and fed him a plate of puffcakes. After that, Larry had more strength and fed himself. He was famished and ate all the contents of the gathering bag in half hour. Milo began stripping off the decayed and blackened bandages, then cleaning out the remains of the mashed fungus absorbing the poison and finally rebandaging Larry’s wounds. The pile of bandages smelled horrible. Milo noticed no one was getting close to Larry, and those who did coughed and covered their mouths, trying not to breathe.

He signaled for Gendifur. She seemed unaffected by the fumes from the pile. “Let me take those. You must have a high resistance to poison. My nose is burning, and no one else can get close to Larry. Let’s get him cleaned up.” Soap and towels were brought, and Milo cleaned Larry’s fur, dumping the bucket repeatedly. Milo remembered how he’d felt when he woke up. Larry was going through the same process, his body sweating out the poison. But Milo had been stung only once and drank many doses of the Lesser Elixer Vitae. Larry only had his fiendish resistance and fiendish regeneration to help him.

Milo thought back to Bleusnout’s lessons on cheese. Soldiers and other ratkin doing heavy labor could consume cheese safely, their bodies using it to fuel their healing and exertions. He went to talk to the new Master Healer. “Can Larry have cheese? He’s burning up with a fever, and his regeneration can’t keep up with the poison. He’s willingly skipped cheese now for over two weeks.”

The healer considered. “Be careful. We’re in unknown territory here. If he reacts badly, you’ll need to use cheese to lure him out of this room. But I think the chance is small. Do you need cheese?”

“No, I have some, and we’ll be careful.” Moving back to Larry, he explained things to him. “Heroes use a lot of energy when they have big fights. They need cheese to help them get better. Gendifur says it’s ok for you to have some cheese.”

Larry’s eyes got big. “YES! Cheese for Larry!” Everyone looked over. Larry waved to them and sat looking at Tall-Squeak. Milo had gotten two messages in the past weeks, but had declined to take delivery, saving them. Both had said the same thing, asking if he wished to be given his latest shipment. He clicked the box next to last month’s delivery, and a small basket appeared between him and Larry.

Best wishes to you, and we hope you enjoy this month’s offerings from the

Imperial Cheese of the Month Club.

Every month we’ll bring you a small basket of the finest fromage the emperor has to offer straight from his personal cheese vault in the caverns beneath the palace.

This month we are sending you the following:

Six chunks of a 20-year-old Cave Cheese made by the trolls of the Iron Mountains. It’s pretty tough to chew but has an exquisite flavor and goes a long way.

Eight ounces of Emmental, aged for five years.

And a wheel of 4-week-old Jack Cheese, made by Jack himself. It’s a little smokey, but we think you’ll love it.

As always, we include just enough tasty crackers, a tube of ‘I can’t believe it’s not Cheese-Whiz,’ a small but very sharp cheese knife, and a lovely oak and steel cheese slicer for precise cuts. ENJOY!

“MAGIC CHEESE!”

Everyone turned to watch Larry clapping his hands with delight as the cheese appeared. Tall-Squeak gave Larry a piece of the Emmental on a cracker, which he chewed slowly and with much delight. This was followed by a piece of Jack Cheese and then a chunk of the hard Cave Cheese. Larry gnawed on it, even his teeth having difficulty chewing it.

Milo put the rest of the cheese aside for later. Larry seemed relaxed, but he didn’t want to push things too hard. Gendifur came over and checked on Larry. “He’s doing fine. His pulse is steady, with no excitement. If anything, I think he’s calmer now that his body has the fuel to fight off the poison. I make sure to see that everyone gets a good dose of cheddar tonite to jumpstart their regeneration.” Larry was slowly nodding off to sleep with a small smile.

She looked at Milo. “And that includes you. You need cheese as much as Larry.” She looked at him suspiciously. “You don’t seem affected at all by that poison you’re wiping off of Larry. Why? Even I’m feeling it, just being near him.”

Milo tried to explain quickly. “I was wounded by poison and drank a lot of the Elixer I found. Too much, according to Old Healer. He said I might have died if I hadn’t been poisoned so badly.” Gendifur felt his fur. “The poison must have nearly killed you and eaten away your flesh and bones. The Elixer saved you and has suffused your body. I wonder…”

She was looking at Milo strangely. He was nervous. “Wonder what?”

“Hmm, this is Healer Talk, but there is a part of your bones that make blood, I know that sounds strange, but some spells have confirmed it.”

Milo nodded. “I know about that. Bone Marrow produces the stem cells that create red blood cells, white blood cells, and platelets. I have solid bones from my magic. Does that gives me stronger marrow and blood production? I wonder if there’s a way to test that?”

Gendifur was wondering where Tallsqueak had studied healing, and what else he knew. But she was delighted to answer his question and smiled at him. “Why, of course, there is. I’ll get my needles. Thanks for volunteering.”