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An Age of Mysterious Memories
B 4 C 20: Clint Dodge Meredith

B 4 C 20: Clint Dodge Meredith

Hm, what’s that? Something, something. Yes. There’s always something. I drift in and out of sleep, apparently trying to recall something, though I don’t know what. There are flashes, and moments that I believe are from Aces' memories that leave me steaming with blush, even in my half-lucid state.

I could swear I hear a voice, perhaps Tiago’s shouting a question. Something like where are they. I can’t tell if it’s with fear, or anger. Hm, what a nightmare that would be either way. Hopefully my mind switches dreams to something more pleasant.

While I’m still groggy, barely coming to my senses, there’s a rapid rapping at our door. The rapping upon the door becomes a thudding pounding. The wood strains itself against each slam, creaking in response, barely holding together. My eyes flash wide. Someone sure is insistent that we answer the door. Now my heart is pounding in terror. Teuila is somehow snoozing through the whole thing. Maybe I’m hallucinating it? I shake her shoulder lightly, and she murmurs, stretches one arm, yawns, and rolls over to the other side, still seemingly asleep.

As the pounding becomes even more insistent, I stumble as I reach the door, opening it basically from the floor. Oh heavens, I think I’m bleeding from somewhere. What an odd nightmare. It’s more unpleasant than anything else.

A familiar voice growls, “What the shid?! Get up, it’s, grr. The saint says they need you. ‘e ‘eaded back, said ‘e couldn’t risk waiting. Sent me up. Get your ass up!”

My eyes flash wide. I even hear Teuila snap to alertness. The two of us glance back and forth between Keeley and each other. We blink our bleariness away and try to pay attention to her.

Keeley tries to calm herself as she states, “If you’ve some more appropriate kit that won’t take an eternity, I suggest you strap it on on the run. ‘arriet’s in trouble, west end of town.”

Teuila and I scrabble for the doll-sized suits of Valkyrie armor, and a weapon or two each. I snag the double barreled crossbow, and, well, I can at least pretend the staff isn’t a weapon. The enchantment on the armor has it reshape and resize to fit us instantly, even as we’re just tugging it onto our fingers. It’s surprising how efficient that enchantment is. Keeley jumps back, startled, seeing us instantly in fancy plate armor over the top of our pajamas. We probably look a silly sight with our pajamas visible through the armor’s joints and bare areas. We’d never pushed the boundaries on any of the enchantments on our equipment like this before. Hopefully it holds, but even if it doesn’t, we’ve got at least forty more sets in my inventory alone, not counting Teuila’s. Really don’t want to have to reach in and get them though.

I’m sure Keeley’s asking, “What the shid!?” But it’s in slow motion, and the sound seemingly travels slower than Teuila while she bolts for the door, carrying me. I know she hasn’t gone supersonic, but Teuila is still blazingly fast. She blows past the startled patrons and pedestrians in our way as we barrel towards the edge of town.

In moments, we’ve actually caught up with a jogging Tiago whose harried expression betrays his fears. His expression drops to one of confusion as he slows to a halt while we blaze past. He grabs his chest as he bends over and pants. His other hand scratches his forehead. He gazes at us perplexedly as we leave him in the dust. I doubt most people wearing this much metal could move anywhere near as fast as Teuila can. Though, to be fair, the Valkyrie armor is incredibly light, nearly weightless, despite its tremendous durability.

I can see the tops of enormous heads from beyond the furthest row of houses, so I’m pretty sure I know what the situation is. As we crest a minor hill before the far edge of town, I finally spy our honorable mairess. Harriet’s feet are leaving the ground suddenly. Seeing Harriet suspended in the air by her throat, kicking and struggling in the grip of a colossal humanoid fills me with rage. Teuila seems similarly inspired to ire, and she thrusts me forward, launching me bodily towards the honorable mairess. This exact throw is so reminiscent of when we were trying to save Lil’s life, when I used the thunderstick to crack open that proud rock over the falls in the swamp. I friggin’ hate the spear that injured Lil. Some day I’ll be rid of Gae Buidhe’s influence from my life, some day. For now, drop all other lines of thought. Focus on only one thought. Save Harriet.

I can tell Teuila is drawing back her bowstring, but the wind magic isn’t coming. There’s tears of anger and frustration in her eyes as she lets the magic notch a physical arrow instead, unable to connect to her Can’Z’aasian powers. Apparently the bow’s magic conjures the bowstring, or knocks physical arrows instantly, but it took Teuila’s magic to provide the wind elemental arrows.

I’m soaring through the air thanks to Teuila’s toss, and in a mere moment I land upon the fist that grips Harriet in just two of its fingers. The grip is loose except for the thumb and index finger crushing her throat. I scowl and spring up the arm to this giant woman’s face. Once there I order, “Put her down gently, or die! In three, two..”

The being is so startled that she falls to her ass which sets Harriet free. At least once Harriet’s feet touch the ground. The mairess coughs, gasping for air, and she scrabbles backwards, away from reach of the confrontation.

I growl as calmly as I can, “What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On! Here!?” So much for calmly.

The colossal giantess reaches for me to replace Harriet with me in her grip. Angered, I let loose a lightning spell from the staff. It courses, jolting her wildly, leaving a sickening scar that branches and zips as the magic tears its way up her arm and out the other side through her shoulder. Despite her stone-hard flesh, the magic is as deadly as I feared, and I’m glad I didn’t aim it at her heart or face.

Everything and everyone stops as the bolt of lightning passes through her shoulder and zips off into the sky. There’s a stunned silence, and no one dares move as I pant with fury. No one save Teuila. She marches up to my side, her bow fully drawn with her largest physical arrow nocked. Teuila shouts, “Answer them!”

Something surprising occurs. The giantess apologizes eloquently, “I quite beg your pardons. We had been shouting for the last few minutes as your priest ran off. Things escalated out of hand, and I’m largely to blame. I was irate at your mairess’s refusal to cooperate. She is not the only one that dislikes this situation of course. I had just picked her up a moment before you arrived. Perhaps it’s just as well that you showed up when you did. I forget what it’s like to have a soft, frail frame.”

I open my jaw to form words, shut it, open it, shut it. My index finger can’t decide if it wants to point, or to curl towards my chin. I shake my right hand slightly at the wrist, trying to control the incredulous motion. I gaze over towards Harriet. I thankfully see Tiago catching up, drawing salve from a satchel. Harriet already has nasty bruising forming around her throat, and I barely refrain from exploding with anger as I take note of it.

Harriet raises a finger of her own towards me, and tries to speak, but all that comes out is a coughing, crushed gurgle. Sadness adorns my face as I worry for her life, or at least her ability to speak. I try to steady my breathing as I turn back to the giantess. Teuila eyes me with a, “just give me the word” look. I barely perceptibly shake my head no. I recall that I didn’t want to simply murder our way through our problems if we could avoid doing so. I feel a familiar presence observing the situation. For some odd reason, even though I don’t know them very well, I’m incredibly glad Dawn is nearby.

Facing the impressively large woman, I slow my breathing further yet and sit in lotus position in front of her. I blow a sigh through puffed cheeks, and warily eye the woman’s male comrades. Each of them seems to wield a log as a club. Their clothing looks to be patchwork of bedsheets, blankets, and large furs. It must be rather difficult to clothe themselves at that size. I wish I could disenchant and enchant things with inventory magic. I’d make size-changing clothing for the Colossi with the Valkyrie armor’s enchantment. I interlace my fingers between my two hands, twiddling them impatiently, waiting for further explanation.

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Once she catches on, the giant woman sits as well, motioning for her guards to sit down as well. At least that’s what I assume they are. The two shrug and sling their log clubs aside momentarily to sit as well. I unclasp my hands and wave my left hand flicking my wrist to end with my palm face up, hand pointed towards her impatiently with wide, angered eyes, giving off a very clear, please continue, gesture.

She coughs, and begins, “While we are not intimidated by your show of power, we are actually remorseful of our actions. Again, I apologize, my anger got out of hand. You must know that we will not be leaving without the appropriate tithe, or there will be disastrous consequences.”

I snarl as my lips twist into a sneer, and she places her hands up placatingly as she continues, “That isn’t to say we can’t come to some sort of arrangement. We may be able to convince our lords to take goods instead of wealth. For some reason, they’re very insistent on coinage, but mayhaps they’ll be appeased with goods this time.”

I close my eyes to hide my frustration, and grit my teeth to keep from seethingly panting in rage. In through the nose, out through the mouth, in through the nose, out through the mouth, stay calm. She is attempting to be reasonable and rational. Perhaps not ethical or moral, but at least reasonable and rational. My left hand quakes with my barely restrained rage, wraith begging me to let slip more destructive magic and end this confrontation.

I ask as politely as I can, “Is it the week’s end? I truly do not know, but I was told to expect activity of this sort at the week’s end.”

She adopts an embarrassed expression, “Well, technically,” My eyes flash wide with anger as I can see where this is going. She hems and haws, “Well, no, not as such. The day after ‘morrow would have been more appropriate.”

I clench my teeth as I pant with fury. I let my eyes half-lid themselves to hide any redness as crimson begins to cloud my vision. They could have killed an ally, a quite possibly innocent woman, and it wasn’t even the right day!?

I snarl, “Teuila, get everyone out of here, now, please. I’m about to lose it.”

I can feel Teuila’s senses probing my emotions, somehow I know our connection tells her just how furious I am, despite our psychic link being unavailable. I stand and turn my back to the giants who begin to protest. I throw a glance over my shoulder back towards the Colossi, leaving them viewing a single crazed eye, and their objections are stifled, falling silent quickly. I wait until Teuila, Harriet, Tiago, and several villagers who had congregated, are all clear of the situation. I think I even spy Berinon in the mixed congregation. Teuila signals me from afar.

My lips quiver with the sadness at the prospect that I’m about to end three lives. I beg them for a reason not to kill them, my voice dripping malice, my expression crazed as I turn to them and plead, “I am barely capable of restraining myself right now. If you cannot provide me an adequate reason to prevent myself from murdering you all, I will drop my restraint, and carve my way through your entire society. Bit, by bloody bit.”

One of the two men begins to laugh, and just as I’m pointing my staff towards him, his friend slaps his hand over the offending mouth with a look that hints at an underlying fear. The unamused one is cautious, wary of me, he glances between the two of us repeatedly. He may not entirely believe I can do what I claim, but he knows his friend was an inch from death.

The woman starts, “We, we must sate our lords’ desires. They are what keep us safe, living, powerful, unafraid.”

My lips curl into a wicked sneer, grinning at her as I ask, “Tell me, at this moment, are you daft enough to be unafraid?”

She tugs at the collar of her clothing with one hand, and holds the other up placatingly. She coughs aside a nervous chuckle as she continues, “We, we’re not the strongest of our tribe, far from it, we are in fact the weakest. You should not assume anything. I’m not threatening you mind you. I’m simply stating that even if I were to die, things would continue as they are, or worse, for The Brook.”

I lid my eyes until they’re narrow slits, glaring daggers at this giant woman. She might be right, my few tools that work on Rayileklia might not be enough to wage a war against even a limited society of giants, let alone ones that are all more powerful than her. She doesn’t need to know that however. I’m also not the only weapon that The Brook has aimed westward. Teuila is far, far more powerful and versatile than me at the moment.

I try to speak slowly, calmly, “It’s good you bring up rank and power. I’m also the weakest of the, hm, four, five, six, seven of us in The Brook’s service.” I probably shouldn’t count Mat. Nor should I count Dawn without their consent. If Lu, Lucky, and Lil were here though, they’d have my back on this. At least as a battle of wills and words.

Oh, oh that’s right. That’s a tool I can use here. Notoriety. I grin as I continue, “The Immortal might not bring much wrath down upon their targets, but still.” I let the idea linger in the air before continuing, “The three most powerful amongst us are the Valkyrie, the Hound, and the Dragon. These aren’t titles mind you, they are their species.”

At first the giantess seems unimpressed, until I finish my statement with the word species. She then momentarily quails. I let that moment of fear sink in a bit as my mind wanders. I’m really hoping my cute new pajamas don’t get ruined by the acid rain dripping through the joints and exposed places in my armor. Probably not something I should be worrying about right now, but it’s better than contemplating the myriad ways I could murder these three and all their kin.

Teuila has returned to my side, and I give her a questioning glance, trying to communicate what I’m up to. I flex a bicep, and I think she understands. I cough for attention, drawing the woman’s mind back from whatever frightened place it had run off to. I motion towards Teuila.

Grinning as I wave to the whole of her, I announce Teuila, “This is of course, the Valkyrie. The strongest amongst us. Yes, even stronger than our Dragon. Please, shake her hand, I’d like you two to introduce yourselves by name so we can perhaps get things off on a better foot.”

Teuila grins wickedly and cracks her knuckles. The woman’s digits have to be at least three to four inches thick each, possibly six inches or so, I can’t really estimate very well from here. Regardless, they’re each at least as thick around as a wrist, so Teuila simply grabs hold of the tip of the Colossi’s ring finger, and squeezes, without hinting at how much force she’s using. The woman is similarly trying to squeeze Teuila’s hand, though she has less leverage due to the size difference. The woman’s fingertip goes red, then blue in a mere moment. The nail splits, exposing soft skin. An instant later, there’s a cracking sound as bone fractures. Te says, “I’m Teuila, the Valkyrie. Who the hell are you?”

The woman grunts, trying not to cry in pain as she jerks her hand away from Teuila. She shoves her ring finger into her mouth and speaks around it, “I’m, offch, Meredith. Fchk.” She sucks upon her finger, nursing the pain. That was perhaps a bit more brutal than I intended, but Teuila got the point across nonetheless. She made it look effortless, which is exactly what we needed.

Teuila flicks her eyes to the two men who hastily introduce themselves as Dodge and Clint. What an odd assortment of names on top of all the other oddities recently. We’ve got architecture from isles in the pacific ocean up through the late twentieth century, architecture from all up and down western Europe in the fourteenth through eighteenth centuries, names from anywhere and everywhere, Spanish mixed in with Hawaiian or French Polynesian or Tahitian, and English on top of all of that.

It’s like Rayileklia can’t decide if there’s such a thing as regional differences, or, well, I suppose people do move around, it’s really not unheard of for someone born somewhere to be raised somewhere else, or be born to parents from somewhere else and raised in a land that speaks a different language. I guess cultural differences are different on a macro point of view compared to a micro view of individuals. Any one person might build a home more like something from their heritage, or continue using a language from another place. Wait, maybe fakeworld memories are just based off of clumps of people from Rayileklia. Hm, perhaps? Ugh, screw thinking about Earth, coming to grips with Rayileklia is hard enough. Meh, Luni was right, I’m not ready to figure any of that out.

The rage having worn away my limited energy reserves, I need to start working my way towards a solution, or I’m going to pass out in the middle of whatever happens. I ask, “Can I summon the mairess and the saint to hear you all work this out? You know, without having to kill one or more of you.” As I ask my question I begin the process of summoning from my inventory. I grunt in pain as I connect to Can’Z’aas in some fashion in order to do so. I have a feeling that some wealth might help smooth things over and buy time for us to investigate for a more permanent solution, but I don’t want to just sit silent in front of Meredith, Dodge, and Clint for eight minutes. Hopefully Harriet’s voice is back, and hopefully between Tiago and Harriet, they can at least converse for a few minutes while Teuila keeps an eye on things.

Meredith nods rapidly, readily agreeing to my request, thankfully. I flick my eyes to Teuila, pleading with her to bring them back, so that I don’t have to move while calling on this magic. I don’t want to end up projectile bleeding everywhere, or vomiting blood and radiance around this meeting. Although, gushing blood and waving it off like it’s no big thing might actually be imposing enough to add credence to my threats. Still, Teuila knows I want her to take over and guide the proceedings with Harriet for now.