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Chapter 9 fork: Abrupt Aftermath
Pannych says, “Whoah, look - we just tricked them! Which sounds bad, but they were after our souls! There were a lot of them, too.”
Jim says, “Be that as it may, you could have started a war.”
Phyr says, “Look, maybe sometimes we start wars by accident, but we always end them on purpose.”
“Then here’s your chance,” Jim says. “Get to the gates as fast as you can. I’ll tell the Captain of the Guard you’re coming. Just - help out however you can.”
The adventurers rush from the town hall to the gates. They make contact with the captain, and follow her up to the parapet. When Pannych also follows, she asks her, “Wouldn’t you be better suited to the front line?”
Pannych says, “Front lines are no place for a ninja - I’m much more suited to single combat than regimented.”
“Seems a fitting place for a demigod,” the captain replies. “Especially one of fear and anxiety. Sow chaos in the ranks. Seems to be your wheelhouse.”
“I prefer to sow chaos from a distance, preferably from an armchair next to a roaring fire with a mug of hot cocoa.”
“Suit yourself,” the captain says with a shrug. “Long as you’re useful, you can fill in however you want.”
Tense silence grips the town guard as they wait in formation, with the breeze over the manmade plain the only sound. After several minutes, the sound of thunder is heard from the forest, a mile away. Over several minutes more, the rumble diminishes, and soon a lone noob is seen approaching from the forest, waving a large white flag high in the air. The noob walks along the road on two legs. Soon, there is an explosion from within the town gates, and long seconds later, a plume of earth erupts in the no-man’s-land. The warning shot leaves a wide crater some forty yards to the side of the road, halfway into the empty plain between forest and town.
“Yo,” Vector says to the Captain of the Guard. “I think they wanna negotiate. Don’t you wanna send someone out to parley?”
The captain replies, “Yeah, right! We don’t ‘negotiate’ with noobs!”
“Well, I do,” Vector says. “Or at least, I try,” he adds, glaring at Phyr. “Look, just gimme ten minutes to talk to this guy. It’s a white flag, for cryin’ out loud.”
The captain hesitates for a moment, then says, “Fine. Ten minutes, and not a second more.” Her hand goes to her belt and she hands him a speaking stone. “Take this, so you don’t have to walk back and I can start shelling when you fuck it up.”
Vector grumbles as he pockets the stone and descends the wall, Pannych and Phyr at his heels. The trio run out to meet the noob.
“Hey,” Vector shouts as soon as they’re in earshot. “We’ve got like three or four minutes before these guys start shelling, so make it quick!”
They draw up short to catch their breath as the flagbearer says, “I speak for Tilda of the Mountains and Gerta of the forest. Our brethren have fallen in battle last night, and we are here to find out what happened, if we can - or to take vengeance for our fallen, if we cannot.”
“Whoah, battle,” Pannych asks. “We did not fight any noobs last night. I mean, in the day we did, but not last night.”
The flagbearer looks askance at her. Vector says, “How do you know it was a battle last night?”
“Our menders carry speaking stones that are not linked to yours. They told us they sought the souls of Pannych and Phyr, and informed us so that we could be wary of foul play. Later in the evening, we heard that they had returned triumphant - but then we lost contact. In the wee hours, we found their corpses strewn about their grounds, all bearing the gruesome wounds of a hard-fought battle. Birgit of the Valley is no more, and her troop was almost entirely slaughtered - even her young son was struck down.”
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Pannych says, “That wasn’t us. They were sent after our souls by Grayl, and I suspect that’s who killed them. The three of us are also enemies of Grayl.”
“But why would Grayl kill them if they succeeded?”
“Because,” Pannych says with a sigh, “We are Pannych and Phyr. And we tricked - Birgit, you said her name was?” The noob nods. “We tricked Birgit into thinking they had stolen our phylacteries, when they actually hadn’t. So Grayl may have punished them for the failure, which - I mean, we honestly didn’t think about that.”
“Our menders are skilled soulbinders,” the flagbearer says pensively. “How could two young humans like you manage to trick them?”
“That is a long story we don’t have time for,” Phyr says. “But suffice to say that we’re demigods and we have our ways. We could’ve killed them, if we wanted to, but we decided in our mercy to let them go. Grayl, unfortunately, wasn’t so merciful. But we can kill you guys, too, so you’d better back off and leave the town out of this.”
The noob looks down at the dwarf with narrowed eyes and asks, “Just how many of us do you think there are in these woods behind me?”
“It kinda doesn’t matter,” Phyr says, “We’re demigods.”
“Arrogance is a foul trait, and divine arrogance all the moreso. Demigods are mighty, but they can die - even the gods themselves have died. Your youth, fresh faces, and jaunty garb tell me that you are not seasoned warriors. You would do well to remember that we are closer to you, than you are to your town’s walls.”
Phyr is about to retort, but Vector puts a hand on his shoulder and says, “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. They came to us with a white flag, we should try to work this out peacefully.”
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