I can certainly say that it started well enough. The army commanders and generals, including one general and a couple commanders I'd never met, gathered in a tent (not Murn's; I suppose she's not highest ranking? It didn't matter to me) and there was a brief accounting of what happened.

"The Vicar Ryan came to me," said Bard, I think a little more emotional than I'd seen him. "He told me that a goblin had been sighted, and that General Murn had been told of it... that the scout that had seen the goblin was dead, and that his Company did not seem to be aware of the threat. Based on that information, we left Abraxi's Company here to guard the supplies and took the rest to meet up with Endor." He paused. "Ryan came with us. I sent him ahead to appraise Endor, and apparently he took care of some kind of goblin spellcaster."

The mood among those who were not there for the battle sharpened intently, especially Murn's, although she had been in a severely foul mood from the moment she saw my injuries. Most likely, everyone there understood that we almost lost, but only she understood what we almost lost.

There were a couple abortive attempts to ask questions, but a General I didn't know shouted them down, and Bard after a pause, Bard continued. "...the losses to that spellcaster were minimal, but Ryan perceived some kind of invisible horde of goblins bearing down on us, so we made a defensive line. And then--I have trouble believing it myself--Ryan called upon our own goddess, Alanna, to share what he saw, and we could see them. A mass of monsters hidden under a spell made of blood."

Bard shivered, perhaps more like a shudder, and I realized for the first time how vulnerable he looked. He had always been the one in command--an odd thing for a God to say--and I had not really considered how, in many ways, he was weaker than me, in addition to having all the normal human frailties and psychological vulnerabilities that I had. Under different circumstances, I'm sure that revelation would have had me spinning into a whole tangent on how I was weaker than other people saw me, how even the greatest were still human, etc, but this wasn't the time or place to be philosophical.

"A spell made of blood?" One of the Generals forced the question into the open. "Some kind of warped Water element?"

There was a pause, and I cleared my throat and stepped forward. Having all eyes upon me was incredibly uncomfortable, especially since I wasn't entirely sure about what I was about to say, but I made a silent prayer to Alanna to help me navigate the murky waters.

It surprised me somehow that Alanna's avatar took up that challenge and offered me the kind of vague but helpful magical support that I needed. It was probably the same effect I had on people when I was blessing them but didn't have a pre-defined godly power that I was offering--the request was within her domain so she did well, far better than I could have as God of Eyes, but it was far from perfect.

"The Rakshasa magic is not like ours," I said hesitantly, but I felt Alanna's confidence backing up my words. "I am not an expert on the matter, but... from what I was told, their magic came before the Elements. It is raw and--" I was going to say 'unstructured' but Alanna indicated that was wrong. Hm. "--not a part of the system as we know it. Where exactly it comes from I don't know..." I did, and Alanna's avatar informed me I was lying, but I ignored it, "but they seemed to get stronger by killing. Perhaps that is why it was revealed to us as magic based in blood--because it was born of sacrifice. I doubt that blood itself was a part of it, exactly."

"Did you see anything else?" The General I had not seen before, the one who must have come from the front lines, pressed forward. Among the animal halfbreeds, he was the most animalistic, with an intensity that was hard to believe possible--I could imagine him on the battlefield as an absolute berserker, a true warrior, the kind of person who could jump into a melee, rip someone's neck open with their teeth, then scream into the sky while beheading two more people with a single swing of his axe. Just looking at him gave me shivers.

"Let Bard finish," said Murn, her voice icy enough that I knew I was far from safe from her wrath. The other general looked to her, but gave a dissatisfied nod.

"We tried arrows, but the blood spell destroyed them. Melsa and Ryan tried to use magical attacks at range; Melsa did score a hit on a leader," he nodded to the woman who had thrown the javelin, who somehow I didn't notice was there, "and that seemed to weaken the barrier, but... there were too many. Ryan tried some attacks as well, but he is simply not a warrior, I think." He paused, then addressed those from the front line. "We recruited him as quartermaster, not a soldier. We didn't even know about his connection to the God of Eyes at the time."

The other General snorted, but didn't comment.

"The fight was... awful. They did seem to grow stronger with killing, and..." Bard paused. "I had not fought them, so I never knew, but stabbing them released flame from within them. Soldiers became scared to attack. We kept going, but it was an awful fight. There were times I thought we were losing, but somehow, the leaders of the goblins fell, one after the next, and when they were finally unled, even though we were holding on by a thread, we could finish off the rest."

"You did kill them all?" Murn's question was as pointed as a blade, and seemed to hang over not only Bard, but all of the commanders who were at the battle.

"Every one that we found," replied Bard, evenly. "Endor made sure of it."

Endor, the Commander we had been rescuing, nodded firmly and stepped forward. "The worst of my wounds came from that spellcaster," he said. "I could not participate in the battle, and watching it only made my blood boil. When it seemed that we had won, and some goblins were starting to scatter, I knew that letting them go would rob us of that victory. I found those who showed the energy to keep going, and ran down those that escaped."

Stolen story; please report.

It felt to me like that story was a little bit of an overstatement, but I didn't press.

"After that, we retreated here and posted guards. We weren't in any condition to find the source, especially if there were more. Ryan thought he knew about where it was..." Bard shook his head. "But it would do no good to march in with a broken army."

"No, this was the right move," replied one of the generals, and to my surprise, all of them, including the muscled berserker general, nodded in agreement. "You were kept in reserve because you are not the true warriors, the glory-seekers, whose blood runs hot for combat. The fact that your men flinch back from goblin blood tells me you were not ready for this combat, and you would not have been ready for the next." He paused, and nodded to me. "Vicar. Speak your part."

My heart pounded, and I looked around. Certainly there was more to say, but being put on the spot, I wasn't sure where to start. I am sure I looked as panicked as I felt, because Bard laid a hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "Just start at the beginning."

So I took a deep breath and tried to piece together a lie that wouldn't be too obvious.

"My god showed me," I said quietly, then louder when I sensed that they were upset I was being shy, "a vision, what must have been the last thing the scout saw before he died--of a rocky hole in a hill, with a goblin crawling around it. I went to Bard with it, and... as I am a Vicar, sir, I called upon my god to brief the commanders, because I knew little enough, and we needed to know more, for our safety..."

"And your god responded?" The general who had been with Murn when I spoke with them exchanged glances with her.

"He was good enough to do so," I replied, wondering if I had blundered into revealing something. "He requested something in return, but..."

"You made a deal with a God? Other than the Lady of Blades?" The general stepped forward towards Bard, and I sensed a great deal of pent-up conflict waiting to be expressed, although I wasn't exactly sure what it was.

"Enough." Murn's quiet voice landed on everyone present with a physical weight, and a shiver ran through most who were there. "The Lady of Blades and the God of Eyes have spoken with one another. I am not clear on the details, but a deal was brokered between them. We have to trust that they will handle matters between the two of them."

I tried to remain composed, because the assorted military leaders were looking between Murn and me to try to figure out what they should be thinking, and I didn't want to appear weak. Murn, in contrast, just looked resigned.

After a moment, I continued. "I owe a debt to the God of Eyes, something that he believes only I can do for him." I hesitated, recalling something that Lucile had told me a long time ago, and the piece fit into my story too well for me to leave it be. "You see... I am an offworlder. I was not born here. And I have memories and knowledge that most people do not."

Again, the mood in the tent shifted. Bard, more than anything, looked a little embarrassed, while others seemed impressed or confused. I pressed forward rather than waiting for an objection or question.

"The point," I said quickly, "is that we were in a position to save lives. Whether Xethram--" I realized as I spoke that saying the name actually created a ping, and was probably the kind of thing I should do less of, "--whether he realized how bad things were or not, he took an opportunity to do good, and we owe some gratitude if nothing else. He gave me a weapon to defeat the goblin Scholar, and I--"

"A scholar? You are sure?" Murn's voice was sharp.

"The knowledge of goblins that I have comes from the goddess Alanna," I replied. "She is the one who assured me it was so."

"What weapon?" The front-line General's question was as direct as one would expect.

I paused, then offered a sympathetic smile. "Of course, the weapon was an Eye." I felt a kind of weird feeling spread throughout the tent, and gave it a moment before explaining, "An Eye that has seen all things turn to dust, and thus can share that fate with anything I can See. It was... not easy, as the creature blocked the power at first, but when he attacked, he lowered his defenses. At that time, I destroyed him." I gestured to my bandaged face. "Not before he left his mark on me, of course."

There was an uneasiness, and I got the impression that the warriors here were mostly not happy with the idea of such a weird weapon, but nobody confronted me about it, either.

"After that... it was as Bard said. We formed a line. I... asked Xethram to show others what I could see, and he told me to ask Alanna for help. I did, and she was kind enough to respond." I paused. "I can only add that it was definitely those evolved goblins, the tall ones, that maintained the blood spell, and that they were the leaders of the goblin horde. I did my best to kill them with my Eye, but I was wounded, and could not do much." Better not to take credit for too much, I supposed.

"How many of the Warrior Rakshasa did you kill?" asked Jure, the owl commander who gone out with us to the front.

"Only a couple," I said hesitantly. "I am not sure, because I was in pain, but perhaps... two? Three?"

The front-line general sneered at the commanders that remained, and I felt like I had stepped on toes somehow. "So the one not-a-warrior whose god is not-a-warrior has the greatest contributions to the whole fight, not only once, but several times over. By the laws of this country," he turned to look at me directly, and I felt odd, "you are free to retire, if you see fit. You were a conscript, and you have served bravely."

I paused, and felt Murn judging me. Honestly, I wanted to retreat, but... "If I can be of any more use here..."

"As you say, you are wounded," replied Murn. "You say you are an offworlder, and offworlders, I hear, are often confused about magic. Rest assured that many on this world die of their wounds, and you are not yet certain to survive. If you are to be of use another day, perhaps this must be the end of the battle for you." She bared her fangs at me, and I could feel that she had a lot more to say to me about this, privately. "Do not be so eager to lose more than merely an eye in this conflict."

As I looked around, I realized that a lot of the people here were suddenly looking down on me. I looked around, and I thought I saw something in their eyes that told me I was just another soldier too eager to court death, another person about to charge when they should have held the line. It was experience I saw in their eyes , and in their experience...

I bowed my head. "Of course, General. You are right."

"Before you go, tell us more about the source of the goblins," said the front-line general. "Everything you know."

I answered what questions they had, but I was beginning to feel tired, more and more tired by the minute. Something about finally admitting that this was over, for me, was bringing me down from an adrenaline high, and by the time I got out of the generals' tent, all I wanted was to sleep.

Or at least, to let this body sleep. As a god, there was always more to do.