Day 7
Threshold City
12:30 P.M.
As they walked through the abandoned city, it quickly became clear that its denizens did not leave voluntarily. Buildings had been cracked by artillery, bullets pockmarked the streets, and dried bloodstains painted the buildings’ exteriors. There were no corpses on the street, but subtle patterns in some of the dried blood informed the more perceptive Greycloaks present that bodies had been moved.
For some reason that Tantalus could not fully understand, the scene had been altered. The corpses had been moved, and most of the bloodstains had been scrubbed out. It was like the Deluvians wanted to show a kind of cruel hospitality to the Revenants.
There was no obvious Deluvian presence, as far as Tantalus could see. He could see flashes of green in the nearby windows, informing him that they were under constant supervision by Goblin snipers. With a sardonic smile, Tantalus thought that it almost seemed like they were heading into a real diplomatic meeting, and not a trap. No, he thought, they were clearly walking right into an ambush. No intelligent military commander would enter this meeting with the intention to persuade the enemy. Tantalus, of course, had no intention of speaking with his enemy in good faith.
“Monsters…” General Dogwood growled as he spotted a wall covered in blood splatter and bullet holes. He spoke just loud enough to be heard by the group of three Goblins they were traveling with.
The Goblins had not spoken a word ever since Tantalus had entered their presence. The leader, a Goblin with a red scarf, had merely gestured for the group of ten Revenants and NPCs to follow him. Strangely, the three Goblins were completely unarmed.
This was the first opportunity Tantalus had to really look at any of the Goblins. Every previous interaction with a Goblin, he was either a hundred feet away from it, or he was too busy carving it up like a Thanksgiving turkey to notice any particular features.
The Goblins were mostly humanoid, though there were several distinctions beyond their green skin. They had large, pointed ears, and their hair only grew in barren patches of squalid black curls. The leader stood at about five feet tall, and the other two were closer to four feet tall. They were each significantly smaller than the Orcs, which stood well over six feet tall. Tantalus noticed that the roman numeral "II" had been branded on the lead Goblin's cheek.
Most notably, the Goblins’ legs were reverse-jointed. Their legs more resembled those of a horse or a canine than a human’s. At a distance, this fact was mostly hidden by their pants, but Tantalus could clearly see their animalistic legs at this close range. It would be more accurate to say the Goblins “cantered” or “galloped” instead of walked.
“Where are you taking us, monsters?” General Dogwood asked angrily. After two seconds without an immediate response, he continued. “If you ask me, there’s nothing to be gained from speaking with vermin. Though…” he paused once again, a venomous smile appearing on his face, “it is somewhat entertaining. The idea that a plague believes that it can carry out diplomacy is… laughable. The only profitable interaction with a Deluvian is extermination, and…”
One of the Goblins turned back toward Dogwood with a snarl. By its body language, it seemed as if it was about to lunge at the General. The Goblin was only stopped by an interposing hand on its shoulder.
The Goblin with a red scarf lightly pulled its compatriot back. It began to speak.
“Trust me, Imperial dog, we feel the same. Your existence is an affront to the God of Machines. We are here to bring you to our commanding officers. They wish to be diplomatic.”
“Your commanding officers?” Tantalus interjected. “Who are they?”
“We have been commanded to not speak on that matter,” the head Goblin said, obviously happy that it could deny Tantalus the information he wanted.
With his gaze fixed directly on the goblin’s bloodshot eyes, Tantalus spoke. “Your commanding officers are the Dark Apostles.”
Tantalus did not phrase the statement as a question. He delivered the statement with absolute certainty.
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An instant after he spoke, Tantalus became absolutely certain that his statement was correct. The goblin’s reaction told him everything he needed to know.
“Who told you that Dark Apostles were here?” gasped the Goblin.
“Intuition,” Tantalus smiled.
The five NPCs present gaped at the information, though the five Revenants did not react. Tantalus had informed them all of his suspicion the night before.
“There’s more than one!” Tantalus called out to the rest of the group. In truth, he had suspected that there would only be one Dark Apostle present. If they were as strong as the General had claimed they were, then one would be a problem by itself.
If there was more than one, then perhaps they were not meant to fight them. Perhaps this was a scripted event where they couldn’t win, thought Tantalus, rather than a boss fight.
“Do not engage unless I give explicit approval,” Tantalus said to the group.
A bark of laughter escaped from the General. “I think not,” he guffawed. “I may be getting forgetful in my old age, Captain, but it is my understanding that I still have operational command. Whether or not we engage is still my decision.”
It would have taken Tantalus less than ten seconds to kill the five NPCs present. He visualized the process. One for Dogwood’s head, two for Feldrast, one for the other three. He would have two left over if he missed any of his shots.
Tantalus resisted the urge to murder his commanding officers. One thought kept his Luger in its holster. If this was a scripted event, then the NPCs wouldn’t ruin it without player input. They were shards of GM, after all.
“Yes, sir,” Tantalus said solemnly. Moments later, he sent an interstitial message to the four other Revenants present.
[If I snap my fingers, kill the NPCs.]
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The unhappy fellowship of thirteen adversarial individuals reached the central town square of the City of Threshold after about five minutes of walking. From what Tantalus could tell, they had walked about eight hundred yards. At full sprint, they could get back to the train in about ninety seconds. A lot could go wrong in ninety seconds, however.
In the center of the town square stood eight Deluvians. All of the Deluvians were high-level phenotypes. There were two Ogres, five Orc Captains armed with M1 Garands, and one Wendigo which was quietly floating at the Ogres' head level. Gator, FullDan, and Izanagi uncomfortably handled their own Garands. In terms of sheer numbers, they were outmanned.
Tantalus could sense dozens of eyes affixed on him as he walked into the center of the town square. There was no doubt in his mind that several Goblin sniper teams were waiting to take aim. At the very least, Tantalus knew that none of them had already set up their rifles. Years of training made him confident that none of the shadows in the windows were scopes aimed at his head.
They wordlessly walked until they were within thirty feet of the eight assorted Deluvians. The enemy monsters glared at them angrily, but none of them spoke.
General Dogwood broke the silence. “So, what do you want to talk about?”
One of the Ogres threw its hairless head back, gesturing for the Revenants to look behind it.
Two humanoid figures were walking toward the congregation of monster and man. They were about half-way between the cover of the buildings and the central pavilion before any of the Revenants had noticed them.
The two figures walked at an unnaturally fast speed, and they were standing by the congregation of monsters within a few moments. They wore ornate black dress clothing with long billowing cloaks and white frills. Each wore a featureless iron mask, though the Revenants could see that one had red hair and the other had brown hair. Both had pale white skin, though the figure with brown hair’s skin was slightly darker.
Even with the loose clothing and iron masks, the two figures looked indistinguishable from humans. Yet their speed and the context of their appearance left no doubt as to their identities.
“Are you two the Dark Apostles?” Izanagi broke the silence.
To answer the question, the figure with red hair reached behind his own head and unclasped the iron mask. Slowly, he removed the mask, revealing a smiling man’s face. It was the man who had warned Tantalus of imminent danger back in Osiris City.
Looking at the Apostle’s face was a surreal experience. His expression wasn’t dour or malicious as one would expect from a general of a legion of monsters. The red-haired man’s mouth was upturned in an impish grin as if he was aware of some grand joke that no one else was privy to. The red-haired Dark Apostle did not speak, but his gaze was fixed on Tantalus.
“It’s him,” Tantalus said, “the man who spoke to me in Osiris.”
“They were within the City?” General Dogwood said. Outrage and fear played out in equal part in the General’s tone.
“Yes,” the Dark Apostle spoke at last. “I am GM’s First Dark Apostle.” He pulled open his collar to reveal a bold roman numeral “I” printed just under his collar bone. “Let’s talk.”