Dear Diary,

I still worry a lot about being a villain.

I mean, look at all the red flags; my subconscious self is the Big Bad Evil Guy of most of the local pantheons, my mentor and adoptive father is like second in line for BBEG in his pantheon, not only am I good at mass homicide, I enjoy it while I'm doing it to the point I might as well get off on it, the same is true of terrifying people weaker than me, I think I might literally get off on power, and while I'm on the subject of getting off, I can't keep my metaphoric pants on for more than a day or two. Hell, I can't even get introspective without thinking about getting off, and some twelve year old part of me just likes repeating the phrase. Yeah, I get it that the petty deific assholes I'm fighting against are worse, but it still bothers me.

Then I think about the warm fuzzy I got from pulling all those moms and kids out of danger yesterday, and I wish that somehow I could finish all this without killing anybody else.

Yeah, not gonna happen, but I can dream, can't I?

So Marie, Saffron, and Isnomi are at Lancaster House for the duration. I guess if all else fails, Saffron can get the two of them back to Phileo. Unless I'm totally underestimating the size of the Calverton army, even if they do win, I'm pretty sure I can wreck their shit bad enough that they don't have enough steam left to come at Phileo. At least not until after the quarantine is over and General Lancaster can bring the whole fuckin' Alliance army back from Newark.

I was kinda dead on my feet when I got my column to the next farmstead. It snowed all fuckin' day long, and I got the bright idea of leading the march and blasting the snow aside with Air shields. Which didn't really work, since the footing on an air shield can best be described as 'slippery as shit', so after the first time I cut that out. Normally, I'd just disperse it, but the road had so much fuckin' snow on it that if I didn't leave it there, an inch or more of snow would build up before the troops got to the other end of it. White shit all over the place. Which, to steal Peralta's line, is the name of my sex tape.

What? I got the clever idea of watching my old world over Mimic's shoulder for a bit late last night, some dude was bingeing that shit, and I needed a laugh.

Yesterday after I hauled all the moms and kids to Lancaster House, I jumped over to Fred and Linus' column. "Hey guys."

I'd Translocated in behind the column, and caught Fred completely by surprise. "How's it going? Where's Carruthers?"

Once Fred visibly calmed himself down and sheathed the sword he'd drawn the moment I spoke, he said, "up at the front of the column helping to break the trail."

"Like, pushing through the snow like a human plow, or using spells?"

Fred shrugged. "Both, I think."

"Yeah, I'm gonna have him stop that for now."

"Why?"

I heaved out a sigh, because I'd realized that after my chain-Translocation I still had a marathon of work ahead of me today. "I need you to keep them moving after you hit the next farmstead."

He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out for a bit as he just sorta stared at me. Finally he said, mostly not whining, "why?"

"Because I'm sure at least some of the Calverton heroes will be pushing to catch up, and the only hope of getting most of these folks back without losing a bunch of them to that is if we push harder."

He closed his eyes while continuing to plod forward, then let out a sigh not unlike my own. "Shit."

"Yeah. Look at the good side though."

That got him to bark out a laugh. "There's a good side?"

"You get to sleep in your own borrowed bed tomorrow, and there might be waffles."

That turned his single laugh into an ongoing chuckle. "Yeah. I have to share a bed with Linus. He snores."

I shook my head. "Nah, the assholes formerly known as Lancaster aren't sucking up the top floor any more. That leaves seven rooms up on the top floor, and another nine on the third floor. Just move into an empty one. You'll probably wind up with some refugees sharing the room with you, but even that might have a good side, what with us all being on the fast track to being rich and powerful and famous, right?"

That got a real laugh out of him. "Gods above, Diaz, is that all you think about?"

"Oh, hell no." I waited half a beat, but before he could ask I cut him off, saying, "I think about food a lot, too." While he was laughing, I said, "I'll go tell Carruthers. See you at Lancaster House tonight."

Then I hopped over to Angel and Bill and told them basically the same thing, only without the turn at the farmstead. I was pretty sure they'd need to head one intersection north of Lancaster House, then cut east and then come down from the north. Either that or, if Lancaster House wound up completely surrounded by Calverton troops by then, they'd need to head West and bunker down at the first defensible farmstead. Some of the bigger farmsteads I'd seen, especially the ones to the west where the terrain got hillier, were nearly as well laid out as Lancaster House itself, even if they weren't anywhere near as big, and didn't have fortifications surrounding them.

I really hoped it didn't come to that, because Bill's column had fewer Volunteers than the other three, and only Angel and Bill as casting Hero-types. If the core of Calverton's army went after them instead of Lancaster House, they were fucked.

Finally, I jumped over to Larry and Lachlan. "Hey guys."

"Commander. How goes the Translocation Evacuation?"

I shook my head and shot him a grim smile. "Yeah, I'm about Translocated out for the day. Just hopping myself around is leaving me a little breathless at the moment. On the flip side, all the moms and little kids are safe at Lancaster House."

Larry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Thank you, Commander. While I don't think I mean it in quite the same sense as my father? These are my people. I'd hate to see any of them fall to Calverton, but losing any of those would cut the deepest."

"De nada, Larry. Ready for the bad news?"

Lachlan chimed in with, "Calverton caught up with your column and you only managed to kill half of them?"

I shook my head. "No, and... really, guys? I'd like to keep Calverton casualties as low as possible, too." That got me two identical head-tilted looks, which struck me as hilarious. When I got done laughing, I said, "because every bit of 'not justified' that applies to them is pretty much fuckin' Ares' fault."

"You think their invasion is justified?" Larry's question could have been belligerent. Probably would have been once upon a time. But today he just asked, assuming I had a good reason.

"Think about it from their side. First a plague hits, and they had no idea how to fight it, so shit tons of them died. Right when they might have been getting a handle on things, a High Priest of Ares comes in from Phileo telling them that we're at fault for the plague, which is, in the broadest of senses, not entirely wrong. Finally, eight Phileo Heroes rampage through their lands, leaving a trail of murder, rape, and vandalism." I paused. "How would you react in their place?"

"How do you figure the plague is our fault?"

I shook my head. "Not ours. Mine."

His eyebrow rose. "How so?"

"You heard what I said to Apollo?"

He shook his head. "Rumors, but not any I'd trust completely." He smiled at his own statement, then laughed a bit as he said, "funny, most of the time I'd assume rumors about someone are exaggerated. Where you're concerned, on the other hand, I've come to believe they're both understating things and completely misunderstanding the greater context."

"Thanks? I think?" His laughter was a little contagious. "Short version, when I kicked the shit out of his sister on the Equinox, Apollo got a bug up his ass and started flinging deific plague arrows at Phileo. Phileo itself was protected, but apparently the asshole missed a few shots. At least one each hit New Amsterdam, Lancaster House, and Calverton."

"Apollo missed? Exactly how many arrows did he fire?" Lachlan's tone balanced on a knife edge between disbelief and shock.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

I just shrugged. "No idea. But apparently he was at it for like three and a half months. Somewhere near fourteen weeks, at any rate. All day, every day, because apparently his High Priest to Phileo kept telling him I was still walking around healthy."

"How did you convince him to stop?" Lachlan seemed like he wanted me to tell him I'd abased myself, or conned Apollo into stopping, or something, but I was too tired to come up with a comforting lie.

"I chased him down, took his bow, destroyed it, and told him if he did that shit again I'd catch him, decapitate him, and ram his head up the new asshole I tore him."

Lachlan blinked, dumbfounded. "I can scarce believe it."

"Eh. Apollo did, and that's what counts."

Larry started laughing at that. "I told you, brother. For all his vaunted wisdom and strength, I do not feel I've traded downward in terms of the power of my Patron."

Lachlan just looked me up and down, as if trying to figure out where I hid all the spare asskickery. "You might be right, buddy."

I took a deep breath. "Okay, bad news time. I need you guys to head straight back out after delivering your refugees to Lancaster House."

Credit where it's due, Larry didn't even hesitate. "Where do you need us, Commander?"

"I need you each to grab two fresh units and march east and west, clearing the roads. The columns coming from those directions will be marching through the night. Expect them to be pretty ragged by the time you reach them. But I want to get both groups behind the fortifications at Lancaster House before Calverton's vanguard arrives."

"Which won't be terribly long after we get there. Understood, Commander. You can count on us."

"Knew I could. See you some time after midnight."

Lachlan called out, "stay safe!"

I called back, "never am!" then Translocated to the back of my column. "Sergeant?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Good to have you back, ma'am."

"Thanks. Any problems when I was gone?"

She shook her head. "Nothing other than the weather. Any chance you can do anything about that?"

I found my own head tilting. "You think I can control the blizzard? Like some kinda weather wizard or something?"

She smiled and shrugged. "I saw you walk out of a Dragon's mouth. If you told me you could walk on air, I'd bet my house that you could."

"Damn. Welp, I can't do anything about the weather overall, but I'll see what I can do about clearing the way. In the meanwhile? Pass the word, we're not stopping at the next farmstead. We're turning east and marching through to Lancaster House."

"They're that close behind us?"

I nodded, and she moved to spread the word. That's when I got my bright idea about Air Shields. Which, as noted, didn't work, so I spent the rest of the day popping up lines of Filtration Wards set to keep out snow, which had the added benefit of stripping the accumulated snow off of our folks every time they passed through one. I'd jump ahead of the formation, throw up a dozen or so wards ahead of the column, then jump back to my trailing spot. I had absolutely zero doubt that, should Calverton spot us and somehow take us unaware, I'd survive the initial attack better than anybody else in the column.

Mid-afternoon the snow started to let up, and I contacted Saffron. Hey, Kitten?

Hey Goof. What did you need?

Larry and Lachlan should be there soon. Can you sort out four units of our Dragonhide clad Veterans, two for each of them? We're marching the two side columns through the night to beat Calverton, and I want Larry and Lachlan to clear as much of the road toward us as possible. Not to mention relieving the escorts with fresh troops.

Will do, Goof. Love you.

Love you too, Kitten

We wound up passing the farmstead after the snow let up, with sunset coloring the sky to our west. I heard a lot of groaning from the column, but by the time the rear guard got to the farmstead, the farmers there had grabbed up supplies and joined the march. I had the rest of the evacuees step to the side of the road and let the fresh folks push forward, but it was clear from the overall groaning grumbles that nobody enjoyed marching through the snow at night. Honestly? I think the only reason none of them mutinied had less to do with the Veterans flanking them and more to do with the fact that all of them saw me moving up and down the south side of the column, constantly on the lookout for Calverton troops.

About two thirds of the way to Lancaster House they showed up. A dozen guys in fancy armor, black and yellow tabards, enameled armor, or shield designs the only common thread. I stepped out into the snow to meet them halfway. "How are you gentlemen?" When they didn't respond, I followed up with, "you are on the way to destruction!" They still didn't look impressed. Philistines.

Figuring that I'd at least give normality a chance, when they were just out of range I called out, "really, guys, we don't have to do this. Just turn around and walk away like we'd already gone past. Hell, there's an empty farmstead west of here with beds and supplies, you could still get a decent night's sleep?" They kept coming, and when they leapt forward from a few paces away, I sighed and said, "okay, then."

I stepped behind the rearmost of them, a dude who couldn't 'leap' so much as 'trundle', what with him wearing a full set of plate armor. I didn't get why until I hit his left ankle with a Mana Blade and it remained persistently unsevered. Somehow they'd managed to integrate something like a Mana Ward into his armor. Which sounded cool as fuck, and I kinda wanted to get the set to Saffron and Conrad so they could reverse engineer it, but for now I just dropped to my knees as his swing went over my head, then rolled behind him and shoved four skinny mana blades, one from each fingertip, through the backs of both of his knees.

Yes, the Eastside library had books on medieval armor and how the articulation points were frequently armored with chain armor. Although I think that might have just been a really old issue of Popular Mechanics or some shit like that. The books in that library were capital O old.

Dude managed to stay on his feet until I rammed my shoulders into the backs of his knees. Before his ass could pin me, I rolled away into the snow, twisted to my feet, and stepped to one of the dudes in nothing but a tabard. Fortunately in this case, my inflated reputation preceded me, because if I'd been a typical guy, or worse a tall one, he'd have split my head horizontally like a melon, or maybe taken it off entirely. As it was, I still got bonked in the crown as his sword skipped off my Dragonhide helmet. I took one of his hands off, then took his leg off at the knee on my backswing. Something hit my shoulder from behind, and I Translocated away as I rolled with the hit.

I heard the Sergeant call out, "fire and brace for impact!" A few seconds later I heard something like a car crash from the direction of the column, but I still had six of them on me; they'd have to hold the other four until I finished.

I Co-Located to two more of them; one of them went down as easily as the first two, but the other managed to get a shield in the way of one Blade and evaded the other. Again, whatever they'd done with the shield incorporated a Mana Ward somehow. I double teamed him, taking his shield arm off at the elbow and his opposite foot off at the ankle.

I tried Co-Locating again, but after the Translocation marathon and forced march, I hit a wall. The momentary hesitation cost me one of me, as three arrows pierced my ears in the unfashionable Steve Martin way. I leapt behind the archer and discovered that his bowstring was not, in fact, Mana Warded. Nor was his bow. Nor was his neck.

I mean, I was serious about trying not to kill too many of them, but the dude had just shot me to death. Justifiable homicide, right?

The sounds from the column redoubled, including shouts of pain and anger from both sides. Meanwhile, the final three guys had surrounded me. All of them looked to have some kind of chainmail, and I didn't want to bet that they'd run out of Mana Ward juice; when they came at me I shot Mana Blades out of every joint, then whirled between two of them, lopping their swords off right next to the hilt, the blades still thudding into my shoulders, but without enough force to cut through my uniform jacket. I felt more than heard some of the chain in between the fabric layers giving way, but I managed to punch each of them in a shoulder, skinny Mana Blades from my knuckles perforating them. As they screamed in pain I dropped to my knees, totally because I meant to and not because I slipped because of exhaustion or anything. While I was down there, I punched them each in the back of a knee for good measure.

I looked up to find the third guy, only to see him leaping toward me, an overhand swing coming down to bisect me. I tried to Translocate, but didn't have the breath to shove myself into motion. Instead I brought my arms up crossed in front of my face, hoping that the refractory jacket would take most of the impact, that I'd have at least one functional arm after his strike hit.

I did, but mostly because right before he hit me he jerked to a stop in mid-air, turning his overhand chop into a long powerless slice across the vee of my crossed arms. Blood warmth still spread along my forearms, but I couldn't give less of a fuck about that as I watched Lachlan, who'd grabbed the Calverton asshole by the ankle mid-leap, proceed to slam him into the ground, then whip him back and forth by the ankle, slamming him to the ground three more times before mister samurai wannabe lost his grip on his sword. By the way he lay there, he'd lost his grip on consciousness as well.

Lachlan stepped up to me, holding a hand down. "You looked like you could use a hand."

As he yoinked me onto my feet, I replied, "eh. Just a flesh wound. I'd have bitten his legs off."

You think the grannies didn't have Monty Python on VHS? Hell, it's like a rule of nature, any VHS collection large enough will spontaneously generate Monty Python tapes or some shit like that. I tossed a big smithy-style Heat Filtration Ward over the Calverton Heroes; no healing for them, because I was too beat to do anything after reattaching two arms and a finger on our Veterans to Heal anything else.

After that, a bunch of us in the back of the column definitely counted as 'walking wounded', because while Lachlan could also Heal, I wanted him as fresh as possible in case any more Calverton assholes showed up. A lot of us were leaning on each other, and when the western gates of the Lancaster House fortifications closed behind us, I just dropped to my knees right there, exhausted.

Funniest thing I've seen in a while? When Lachlan carried me through the door to Lancaster House, only to have Marie bound up, bristling and growling in that subsonic terror inducing way, until he stepped back out the door. After which she plucked me out of his hands, turned, and carried me over the threshold purring like a giant housecat high on catnip.

"So. You sure you don't want the wifey status upgrade?'

"Yes."

As she lay me into bed, my body still tingling from Saffron's Heal, I struggled to sit up, only to be pushed back down onto the bed, Marie's hand on one shoulder and Saffron's on the other. "You need to rest, Goof."

"Calverton. Gonna be here before nightfall at the latest."

Saffron just nodded at me. "And all of the evacuees at risk are now inside the fortifications, and Raven, Bonnie, and I can command the defense, from within the House in my case, until you and the Lancasters are fully rested up."

I shook my head, the stubborn that had kept me upright until we made it through the gates not letting me stay down. "Can't sleep. Gotta... gotta get... something."

Saffron rolled her eyes, shook her head, then looked at Marie. "Could you please see to it she does not leave this bed until tomorrow morning?" A flick of her hand, and my uniform was gone. I shivered a little bit, and most of it wasn't from the cold, but from the look in Marie's eyes. "Oh, make sure she falls asleep as soon as you can manage it?"

While I was still trying to process that, Marie growled out, "Yes." to Saffron's retreating back.

It might have taken her ten minutes of very focused work, but she most certainly got me to relax, and at that point sleep took me down immediately.