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Pannych and Phyr chase Grayl into the dark cave, lit dimly by glowing green moss on the walls. The foul stench of noob that permeates the valley is almost unbearable inside the cave, but the adventurers both succeed at a Ruggedness check to ignore it and press on.
About 40 yards in, Pannych passes an Observation check and spots a discarded cigarette butt on the cave floor, a wisp of smoke trailing above it. She takes a knee to examine it, distracted from the chase, and sees a narrow passage doubling back. On a hunch, she starts sneaking along this side passage. The moss either doesn’t grow here, or has been cleared away, making it more difficult to spot from the main passage and also to navigate. She takes ten on her Wilderness and Stealth checks to make sure to stay safe and silent.
Phyr follows Grayl down the twisting moss-lit passage, and it soon opens up into a large cavern. Just as he glances around, Grayl skids to a stop and shouts, “Hold!” Phyr is unable to dodge the magical shackle, and is rooted in place.
They roll for turn order - Grayl is first. He casts Wall, and a glowing yellow magical barrier materializes in front of him.
Phyr draws a blaster and fires, but the wall absorbs the blast with no problem.
The other assassin (with the spear) appears on a ledge above the one with the scythe and leaps down, passing a Nimbleness check to roll into a combat-ready posture.
Scythe Grayl grins and says, “Your friend has abandoned you - you cannot stand against us both,” and holds his action.
Phyr looks around and, not seeing Pannych, freaks out a bit. Given that he’s one against two, he holds his action to make the best use of it.
Spear Grayl says, “Thistleheart!” and dashes past Phyr with blinding speed, flanking him - Scythe Grayl then uses his held action and says, “Greater Fireball!” which he then lobs over the magical wall at Phyr. Phyr is unable to dodge, but uses his held action to cast Chill on the compact-car-sized fireball arcing through the air toward him - he has no idea how much mana he needs to use, so he pumps 500 into it (but his enchanted earring refunds 450 of that), and the fireball is harmlessly dissipated in an intense blast of cold.
Scythe Grayl holds his action again, as does Phyr; then Spear Grayl takes a jab at Phyr while Scythe Grayl casts another greater fireball. Figuring the fireball is the greater threat, Phyr chills it again, but takes 16 damage from the spear strike.
Scythe Grayl holds his action again, and Phyr shoots Spear Grayl for 84 damage. She yelps as she is thrown by the blast.
Spear Grayl gets up and says, “Shield!” A shield of magical energy appears over her off-hand. Scythe Grayl lobs another greater fireball, and Phyr can’t chill it, so he takes 32 damage.
Scythe Grayl casts Hold on Phyr again, as it’s about to wear off. Phyr blasts at Spear Grayl, who is pushed back but unharmed thanks to her shield, and draws his other blaster. Spear Grayl advances with her shield raised, but is unable to close the distance.
Scythe Grayl casts Wall again, as that’s about to wear off, too. Suddenly, the sounds of a scuffle are heard from above - all three combatants hold their actions and look up. The next round, Pannych comes tumbling down from a ledge above Spear Grayl, entangled with a third grey-cloaked figure, this one wielding a laser rifle. They both fail a Nimbleness check and take 10 damage from the fall.
“What the-” Phyr says, “They are multiplying, Pannych!” Pannych and Rifle Grayl get to their feet, and everyone freezes for a moment.
“HEY,” another voice shouts from the chamber entrance. The combat session ends from all the interruptions, and the five turn to see two more people at the chamber entrance: one wears armor and holds a flaming sword, the other is dressed in ranger’s garb and has a bolt-action rifle.
“Who the fuck are you guys,” Phyr asks.
“We could ask you the same question,” says the knight.
“I asked first,” Phyr says.
The ranger says, “We’re Pannych and Phyr, destined heroes foretold to-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Phyr interrupts. “We’ve heard that bit before. So what?”
“We hold the Orbs of Density,” the knight proclaims, and he and the ranger produce a pair of dimly glowing, dark blue orbs, each the size of a baseball. “Err, that is, ‘Destiny!’ But don’t get me wrong, they’re very dense, too. Quite heavy and cumbersome. But they’re definitely Orbs of Destiny.”
Phyr turns to Pannych and says, “Sidebar?”
Pannych says, “Pause! OK, thirty seconds!”
“This is a lot of guys and these Grayl fuckers are no slouches,” Phyr says quickly.
“I think we can distract the Grayls while they fight the destined heroes,” Pannych says.
“Think I can steal the orbs and we can skedaddle while we’re paused,” Phyr asks.
“You can’t move during pause we can only talk and move our eyes,” Pannych says.
“You can pause,” Rifle Grayl asks incredulously.
Pannych and Phyr shift their eyes in his direction. “You can tell,” Pannych asks with equal surprise.
“What the fuck,” Spear Grayl says, “I can’t move or cast anything!”
“Shut up, Rayla” Scythe Grayl shouts.
“Well, there goes our plan,” Phyr says.
“New plan,” Pannych says, “Just follow my lead.”
Pause ends, and Pannych rushes to grab Phyr by the arm and drag him away from the fight, while saying very loudly to the destined heroes, “Whoops, our mistake! By all means, go and fulfill your destiny! We’ll just go back to Noob Town and think about our life choices!”
Phyr pulls out his healing ray and starts using it as soon as they exit the chamber. “Yo, those two guys were killing me pretty hard,” he says. “I don’t know what we’ll do about the third one.”
“Yeah,” Pannych agrees, “And I don’t think the orb-havers are gonna stand much of a chance.”
Phyr says, “Hey, I’m really concerned over the fact that the Grayls are included in the whole ‘Pause’ thing.”
“Me, too,” Pannych says with a nod, “Tom warned me about that, kinda - he said, ‘Be wary when you meet Grayl, he’s not who you think him to be.’ So, exact words: ‘when you meet’ implies we hadn’t yet met, and we already knew there was more than one of them, so I think the warning’s about the third guy and there’s some sort of additional surprise with him.”
“Sure, fine,” Phyr says, “Whatever you say. Look, are we gonna go back in and try to mop up, or are we gonna run off? Because I’m not quite topped up and it looks like the destined heroes are dead.”
Pannych turns her attention back to the chamber just in time to see Rayla - the one with the spear - impale the ranger and dump her body next to the armored one, whose flaming sword has been extinguished. “Brave face,” she says, nudging Phyr, right as the trio turn to focus on them. Phyr puts away his healing ray and draws both his blasters, while Pannych draws her blade and readies a shuriken. “Your little ‘ambush’ didn’t work, assholes. You ready for Round Two?” Her middling Performance roll gets mixed results.
“What,” says Rifle Grayl. “Did you two idiots not see what just happened to those other two idiots?”
“Hey,” Scythe Grayl says, “About that. Those two don’t have Orbs of Destiny, and they might be demigods - or something real close, at any rate. We should bail.”
Rayla nods, grabs Scythe Grayl around the waist and says, “Thistleheart!” Then she leaps back up top of the ledge from whence she came, her companion in tow, and they sprint into the darkness.
Rifle Grayl, now alone, lowers his weapon and says, “That true? Are you two demigods?”
Pannych says, “The more important question is: who are you?”
He considers his options for a moment, then takes a deep breath and says, “My name’s Vector.”
“Wait,” Phyr says, “Sye?!”
Vector blinks in surprise, then says, “Dee? Dale?”
“Yeah,” Pannych says with a smile, putting her blade back in its scabbard. “But we’re Pannych and Phyr here. Same as the destined heroes.”
“Huh,” Vector says, lighting up a cigarette. “Follow me - there’s a path through the lair that leads out another way, maybe we can catch up.”
“Wait,” Phyr says, holstering his blasters and taking out his healing ray again. “Why in Hell would we wanna follow them?”
Vector says, “Those assholes duped me into trying to kill you! Think I’m gonna let them get away with that?”
“Good point,” Phyr admits, “But they really did a number on me. What the Hell level are they?”
“Oh, we’re all level six,” Vector says. “We’ve been killing destined heroes for a while, now.”
“Yeah, we’re only level one,” Pannych says, “So I don’t think we’re picking a fight any time soon. Plus, I’m pretty sure the one with the spear came back from the dead. Point being, I am in no rush at all to tangle with them again.”
“Fair,” Vector says, “But I still think we should go through the lair, see if they left anything good behind.” With that agreed, they head deeper into the cave - after Phyr loots the Orbs of Destiny from the heroes’ corpses and Pannych stows them in her bag of tricks. They weigh about fifteen pounds each, but are weightless in the magical bag.
“So you’re in on the Pause, eh,” Phyr asks after Vector has taken the lead down the mosslit path.
“Yeah - that was weird. Like, I heard you say, ‘Pause,’ and then I could hear - and speak, too - but I couldn’t move at all.”
“But the people in the tavern didn’t notice when you Paused the first time,” Phyr says, looking now to Pannych.
“Yeah,” she says. “A spell like Pause is only useful if it includes players, and excludes NPCs.”
Phyr and Vector share a meaningful glance, then Phyr says, “So the Grayls are players, then. There’s actual people behind them?”
“So it would appear,” Pannych says. The three of them contemplate this in silence as they continue walking.
A few minutes down the twisting cave path, they come to another cavern. This one is smaller and lit by a small magical lantern. They spot one bedroll, a firepit, an empty chest, a crate of foodstuffs and cookware, and an ornate full-length mirror. Debris has collected in the corners where the cavern wall meets the floor.
“Figured they wouldn’t leave much,” Vector says, kicking idly at the empty chest. “We kept most of our shit in go-bags, just in case something like this happened.” He ties up the bedroll and shoves it in the go-bag he had evidently been using as a makeshift pillow.
“Something like a couple demigods crashing your pad,” Phyr asks. “Is that a thing, here?”
“Dude, it’s Noob Valley,” Vector says. “We negotiated a truce with the noobs, but if someone was able to fight its way through them, then they would damn skippy be a threat to us.”
“OK, true,” Phyr says. “Wait, how did you do a truce with the noobs?”
“Rayla did it,” Vector says. “She bested their chief in single combat, but spared her life. Which would have been a tremendous dishonor - surviving a duel you lost - but Rayla gave her a really slick out: she demanded that they let us hole up in the chief’s cave, and leave us alone, or else we’d kill her son. So the noobs dragged our names through the mud every time we came or went - which, who cares - but they left us alone.”
Pannych says, “And you thought these two were good guys?”
“What? No,” Vector scoffs. “I thought they were interesting. The way they talked about it, it sounded like there was a plague of destined heroes falling upon the land, and they seemed to know what they were on about, so I joined up. Got this sweet cloak out of it, too.”
“C’mon, Pannych - that is a sweet cloak,” Phyr says. She rolls her eyes and sighs.
“Oh, shit,” Vector says. “They left the mirror.”
“Well, yeah,” Pannych says. “That looks way too heavy to carry.”
“And too valuable to leave behind,” Vector continues. “I used to see Rayla talking to this thing all the time. Called it ‘Invertigo,’ I think.
At the mention of its name, the mirror flashes brightly, and a skull with flaming eyes appears on its face. “Yes. Hello,” it says.
“Well, well,” Pannych says, “A magic mirror, huh? What can you tell us about Rayla and... what’s the other one’s name?”
“Aqu,” says Vector.
“Aku,” asks Phyr. “Like, the bad guy from Samurai Jack©?”
“No, with a Q,” says Vector. “Can’t infringe on copyright.”
“What can you tell us about Rayla and Aqu,” Pannych asks the mirror.
“I am under a geas not to betray my mistress,” Invertigo says cautiously. The skull has no flesh or tendons, but its speech pattern does enough to betray its emotional state.
“All right,” Phyr says, looking around and finding a heavy rock. He lifts it and holds it menacingly. “So which is worse... breaking your geas, or breaking your glass?” He wiggles an eyebrow suggestively, and the skull manages to look worried with a quavering of its flaming eyes.
“Hold on,” Pannych says to Phyr, waving him off and then turning back to the mirror. “What’s the most useful information you can tell us about Rayla and Aqu, without breaking your geas?”
“Well,” Invertigo says, looking nervously between Pannych and Phyr, “Let’s see: each of them is an immortal being, and also The Last of the Breed for their respective clans. They’re part of the ‘old world’: the way things used to be, long before you three came here.”
“What are you talking about,” asks Pannych, confused. “I thought I created this world yesterday, when Phyr and I popped in.”
“No, that’s not right,” Invertigo says. “While everything seemed to spring into existence - when you ‘loaded in,’ I guess - this world has history. A long, troubled history, at that. When Third Earth was conceptualized, it was a place where bad guys were supposed to win, because it’s more interesting that way.”
“Third Earth,” Phyr asks with a scoff. “The fuck’s that?”
“It is two things,” Invertigo says, “As are so many in this world. First Mercury, Second Venus, Third Earth. But also, many stories and thought experiments need Earth to exist, for some reason - First Earth. But the conceit of the story relies on a Second Earth, or a Twin Earth. Rather than compete with them, Third Earth makes an end-run for a unique title of its own.”
“Yeah, that sounds like me,” Pannych says. Invertigo’s eye-flames narrow conspicuously in her direction. “Look, what were you waying about bad guys being supposed to win?”
“Yes,” the magic mirror continues, “Instead of ‘Good versus Evil’ in a never-ending tug-of-war, there are simply various villains, all battling each other for supremacy. The truest ‘heroes’ are the commoners who resist the evildoers: not by hiding behind champions of justice, but by striking at the villains while they tangle with each other - though they pretty much always become corrupted by their own power, whenever they gain too much of it.
“At the top of the proverbial heap were Rayla and Aqu, who are based on Deirdre and Dale, respectively. Sometimes, they were at war with each other; others, they allied against a common foe. At any rate, there was a balance - if a twisted one.”
Phyr says, “So they are players - and what's worse, they're us. Right?”
“Makes sense,” Sye agrees. “I mean… I was just a fan of the comic when you two met me, but you’re both really genre-savvy. In a world of your own design? Only you would be worthy opponents to yourselves.”
“Wait,” Pannych says, “So is there another Sye that was here before the three of us came in?”
“No,” Invertigo says flatly. “Vector is one-of-a-kind. He is tied to this world, and part of it, but not mirrored within it as you two are.”
Pannych exhales sharply and touches the fingertips of one hand to her brow - in her mind’s eye, she sees a flash of mirrors. Thirteen reflections, all carrying the same beam of light between them- but then the vision is gone. The break in her demeanor lasts just a half-second, and the others seem not to notice.
Vector says, “Yeah, I’m just along for the ride. I like to be the little ‘edge’ that tips the scales here and there. I took the Facilitator class, after all.”
Pannych faces Invertigo again and says, “Go on.”
“Right. So. A few months ago, Rayla and Aqu had their power stripped from them by prophecy: though still mighty in many ways, they are now but peons in the dark power struggle that grips this world. And they are not happy about it. Only by killing you can they regain that which was once theirs, by consuming your souls at the moment of death - Vector excluded, that is. And for months, they have been seeking you out, growing stronger bit by bit as they slay the destined heroes you sent here to distract them.”
“Wait,” says Phyr, “You mean all those other Pannychs and Phyrs were decoys?”
“Yes,” says Invertigo. “Vector, you saw how that went.”
“Oh, yeah,” says Vector. “Day after day, Rayla would say, ‘Invertigo, show me Pannych and Phyr,’ and he’d say, ‘Which ones,’ and she’d say, ‘The destined heroes,’ and he’d say, ‘Yeah, but which ones,’ and she’d say, ‘The ones that just showed up today,’ and he’d say, ‘OK, but which ones?’ Drove her up the goddamn wall.”
“Guess that’s one way to hide from pissed-off immortal assassins,” Pannych says quietly. “Look, those two are kinda badass, and I feel like I’d be a lot safer with full mana. Is there any way to do that besides waiting 28 years for it to grow back on its own?”
“There are mana potions, but-”
“The war, we know,” says Phyr. “Look, did anyone leave a mana potion around? Like, just forget one, or drop it off a wagon or something?”
The flames wink out for a moment as Invertigo bows his head; then he looks back up and says, “There are 73 mana potions scattered around this island, each of which restores between 25 and 1,000 mana... their combined total is less than 8,000 mana. This island is just under ten thousand square miles, however, so-”
“So it’s not worth our time,” Pannych finishes. “But there are mana potions that restore more, aren’t there? Like, up near the million mark?”
“For that, you would need high-grade refined ether, and I can say for certain that there’s none on this island. It’s very unstable, and also precious - nobody just leaves that stuff lying around.”
“Wait,” Vector interrupts, “Why do you guys need millions of mana, anyway?”
“Because,” Phyr says, rolling his eyes, “Someone forgot to make us an escape hatch!”
“Escape hatch,” Vector asks, confused. “Isn’t this the escape? Like, isn’t that the point of escapist fantasy in stories and games - to get lost in another world where you don’t have your own problems to deal with?”
Pannych and Phyr stare at each other for a moment, blinking.
“Well,” Phyr stammers. “I wanted a beer,” he trails off.
“And apparently I’ve got some shit going on outside,” Pannych says, “And I wiped my memory, too. So I hope you can understand that I’m a little curious about that.”
“Yeah, but,” Vector shakes his head for a moment, and refocuses. “Look, you’re still out there, writing this story, right? Otherwise this wouldn’t be happening? That means you have a computer of some kind, and an internet connection, and power, and presumably food & water as well, right?”
Pannych and Phyr regard each other for another moment. “Man’s got a point,” Phyr says. Pannych shrugs and nods her assent.
“So, about this war,” Pannych says, turning back to the mirror.
“Yes,” Invertigo says. “There is a Great War going on. But I’m afraid I can’t tell you much about it - the powers involved are so great, they are able to hide themselves from my Sight and even my memory.”
“Are you suuuure,” Phyr taunts, hoisting the rock menacingly again.
“Dude, shut up,” Pannych says. “Look, if you can’t tell us directly, then who should we go see, and where are they?”
Invertigo’s eyes flare in desperation, and he blurts out, “Alice the mystic! Locked up beneath Fort Roguelike!” Phyr lowers the rock again.
“Well, we know where to go, so let’s not waste any time,” Pannych says.
“Yeah, but what if this mirror decides to narc on us,” Phyr asks. “It does belong to Rayla, after all. I’m sure she’ll come back for it, and I don’t think we wanna be lugging something that big back through noob country.”
“Good point,” Pannych says, tapping her chin in thought, but not coming up with any better ideas.
Invertigo shouts, “No! Wait!”
“Why should I,” Phyr asks.
“Because... because... you might want to make more use of me later!”
“Fair,” Phyr says, considering. “But you’ll still be under your geas, and this way you can’t betray us to Rayla.” The mirror screams its protests for a moment, then Phyr shatters it with the rock, and it speaks no more. They each get 10 XP for completing a quest step, and 1 XP more for killing Invertigo.
The trio make their way out of the lair and back into Noob Valley.
Rayla and Aqu sprint down the cave path to their lair. They grab their go-bags in a hurry, tie up their bedrolls, and dump out the small wooden chest containing their money and a few sundry valuables they collected in the last few days.
“Invertigo,” Rayla says, standing before the ornate magic mirror. A skull with flaming eyes appears in the glass.
“Yes, my mistress,” it says.
“There are some adventurers right behind us. I need you to stall them.”
“You’re not taking me with you,” Invertigo asks.
“No, you’re too heavy. Look, just do whatever you can to keep them here as long as possible. They’ll probably try to pump you for information.”
“But... my geas?”
“Damn the geas,” Rayla bites. “Just do your best.”
“Are you even coming back?”
“Yes,” Rayla says, “After they’ve left, we’ll come back for you.”
“What if they break me?”
Rayla looks at Aqu, who shrugs and then taps his left shoulder suggestively. Rayla nods, and says, “Tish!” A black, smoky raven-like spirit appears, perched on Rayla’s left shoulder. “OK, Invertigo: I swear to you on my life that, if you stall the adventurers, you shall live so that you may serve me still.” The raven pulses with dark energy, its eyes flashing, and it disappears with a puff of smoke. “Happy?”
The skull nods. Aqu says, “We gotta go!” They give their belongings one last check and leave through the back way.
Outside, they make a plan: Rayla says to Aqu, “You hide here in the brush, I’ll circle back to the front. Whichever way they leave, that one comes and finds the other one.”
“Got it,” Aqu says. “But then what?”
“I don’t know,” Rayla says with a sigh. “We’ll probably have to make some kind of deal with the noobs. I’ll figure it out while we’re waiting.” He nods, she departs, and he takes ten on a Stealth check to find a good hiding place.
After the adventurers leave by the front entrance, Rayla waits a minute for them to clear the area, then goes to find Aqu. They head back into the lair and see Invertigo’s shards scattered on the ground. “Tish,” Rayla says, and the smoking raven appears at her left shoulder once more. “I’m ready to fulfill my oath.” The raven croaks and flaps its wings, and a pulse of dark energy emanates from its breast and coalesces at Rayla’s chest. She clutches at her heart, screams in pain as she takes full damage, and falls face-down dead.
The glass shards then clatter on the cave floor, float up into the air, and reform themselves in the mirror’s frame. All in place, they then ripple like the surface of a pond; the cracks disappear, and the mirror stands whole.
Aqu sits cross-legged at the empty firepit and waits with his chin on his fists.
Two full minutes later, Rayla’s lifeless body begins to glow with blue energy. It lifts a couple of inches into the air, she takes a deep gasping breath, and then her body floats back down to lay on the ground. She rises on hands and knees to take a couple deep breaths.
“Everything OK,” Aqu asks quietly, barely turning to look at her.
“Never better,” she rasps, getting to her feet and walking to the mirror. “Invertigo.”
“Yes, my mistress,” the skull says, reappearing in the restored mirror. “Thank you for fulfilling your oath.”
“Yeah, sure,” she says. “Look, what happened?”
“I did as you asked. The adventurers are headed to Fort Roguelike to free Alice.”
“Good,” Rayla says with a nod. “And what did you tell them?”
“Nothing that she couldn’t have done, and a good deal less than that,” Invertigo says. “They still think they tricked me.”
“Pretty naïve, for demigods,” Aqu says.
“They are not demigods,” Invertigo says. Rayla and Aqu each raise an eyebrow. “They are mere mortals - just first level.”
“Really,” Aqu says more than asks. “Could’ve fooled me - you should’ve seen the elocuen fight, Rayla. And they foiled our ambush with Vector.”
“They are quite overpowered, for first level,” Invertigo adds. “Yet they are still mortal.”
“But this is the Pannych,” Rayla asks, “The one I’m looking for, right? No more of this Destined Decoy bullshit?”
“She is not like the others,” Invertigo says. “Beyond that, I cannot say with certainty. I have never seen her before yesterday.”
“And Vector,” Rayla asks.
“He is with them, but he still does not realize his full power.”
“Hey,” Aqu says, “They’re headed to the fort - do they have any items or abilities to detect traps?”
“Nothing beyond a standard Observation or Savvy check,” Invertigo says.
“Huh,” Rayla says, tapping her chin. “Say, that gives me an idea. The goblins probably won’t kill them - they’re semi-drunk teenagers, for all intents & purposes. The traps might not finish them off, but should at least soften them up a bit. So how about we send the noobs to mop them up on their way out?”
“I mean,” Aqu says, pondering, “That could work, but why would the noobs go for it?”
“Because I’ll give them their cave back,” Rayla says. “Besides, we should find a new lair anyway.”
Aqu nods, and then says, “I still don’t think you need to be such a jerk with them. More flies with honey than vinegar, after all.”
“That’s not true,” Invertigo says. “Flies are attracted to vinegar because it is excreted by the microorganisms they eat. You actually get more flies with vinegar than with honey.”
“Who cares,” Aqu shoots back, “You know what I mean.”
“It’s relevant in this case,” Rayla says. “The noobs are distrustful of all humans, since Noob Town’s entire economy revolves around slaughtering them.”
“Yes,” Invertigo says. “I told mistress Rayla that the only way to get them to agree to anything would be to either team up to sack Noob Town - which you still probably can’t successfully do - or to back them into a corner and give them one way out. They won’t like it, but they’ll do it.”
“And he was right,” Rayla says. “Our best bet is to stoke their indignation, and redirect it to our purposes.”
“Still leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” Aqu mumbles with a sneer.
“Duly noted,” Rayla says, “But we’re kind of on the ropes, here. You come up with a better idea, and I’m all ears.” Aqu rolls Savvy, Lore, and Leadership to consider other options - but seeing none, he grudgingly nods his assent. “OK, then. Let’s go make a deal with the noobs. Invertigo, while we’re gone, find us another place to hide out. Ideally, one we won’t have to abuse anyone to occupy. We’ll be back for you in a bit.”
Invertigo nods, and disappears from the face of the mirror. Rayla and Aqu leave the lair to find the noob chief.
“Hey, bird turd,” Rayla says as they approach the noobs’ encampment. “The adventurers left. They’re headed to Fort Roguelike with the half-giant to meet up with that traitorous mystic. Take your fiercest warriors and kill them. Have one of your Care Bears or whoever capture the souls of the dwarf and the elocuen - Phyr and Pannych - in these gems, and bring them to us. Hell, I don’t even really care about the rest, just bring us those two souls: Pannych and Phyr. Then you can have your stupid cave back, and your stupid troop’s stupid honor will be restored.”
The noob chief grumbles and growls, then says, “Unlikely, while you still walk the Earth.”
Rayla rolls her eyes and groans; Aqu looks at her with disapproval. She says, “Look, I’ll tell you what: if I let you strike me dead right now, will you just do it?”
The noob chief regards her for a moment with narrowed eyes. “Is this some elf trick? What good will souls do you, if you are dead?”
“Because then my friend can have his soul restored, and I’ll be able to rest in peace knowing that he’s whole. After all, I’m just an honorless pig-elf, right? I’m kinda sick of this whole thing. Living like this isn’t worth it. I just want those two dead, and their souls captured. Is that enough for you?”
The noob chief turns to her troop and consults with them. Trick or not, two of those adventurers killed five of them just today, the third is a former interloper, and most of the noobs want to see the pig-elf bite the dust anyway. The mystic isn’t so bad, but she knows which way the wind blows and shouldn’t be a problem. At the end of the day, getting their cave back is not a complete victory, but it’s something.
“We accept your terms,” the chief says after turning back to Rayla. “I strike you dead, we capture the two souls, and the cave is ours again.”
“Great,” Rayla says. She hands her spear to Aqu, gives the crystals to a noob mender, and says, “Let’s get this over with.” She steps right up to the noob chief and cranes her neck to look her in the eye.
The noob chief takes ten to line up her strike, then puts all her might into a powerful overhead blow. It lands squarely: Rayla is crushed, killed instantly by a paw thicker and heavier than her body is wide. Every bone shatters, and her organs all burst. The chief raises her bloody paw and flicks away a few stringy bits of gore. A mender steps forward from the crowd and examines the remains, then pronounces her dead. The chief sniffs and snorts in satisfaction. “It will be done, as she said,” she promises Aqu. Aqu nods and sits by the splattered corpse as the crowd disperses.
Three full minutes after the deathblow is struck, Rayla’s remains begin to glow blue. Her various bits knit themselves back together, and a few moments later, she stands whole, if a bit woozy.
“You all right,” Aqu asks.
“Fine,” Rayla says. “Ugh, that’s three times in one day, though... not the best.”
“Did you have to make such a show of it,” he asks.
“Different question, same answer: did it get us what we want?”
“Well,” Aqu says with a shrug, “That remains to be seen. Still, I don’t think you had to be such a shit about it, though.”
“Maybe, but they’re the lever we can pull right now, so who cares?”
Aqu scoffs. “Time was, you used to have a soft spot for the outcasts and downtrodden. What happened?”
Rayla looks at him through narrowed eyes, but says nothing.
[Next]
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