Senior Agent Anwas Eynon of the Vatharian Assassination Service walked in on his boss, Master Agent Boalgaroz, known more popularly by his call sign, “Boal.”
Boal was standing in front of his office mirror, checking his hair. Again. Agent Eynon had noticed Boal checked his hair quite a lot, and despite that his hair was still often messed up. Eynon had no idea what Boal did to keep messing up his hair.
“Ah, Agent Enynon, is everything ready?”
“Yes, commander. The men are waiting for you by the teleport focus.”
“Excellent, and exactly on time, as you always are, Eynon,” Boal said as he walked out of his office and to the stairs down to the sorcery chambers, deep beneath the castle. “Again, I am pleased that you and your men were able to accommodate the schedule change. Counselor Dravon performed a divination, and it told him that today was the auspicious time to attack. I think that is worth bringing the mission forward.”
“Indeed, sir. I have the greatest respect for Counselor Dravon. If he says tonight is the night to attack, I have full confidence in the mission. Sir.”
They entered the chamber where the teleport focus was. Eynon's seven men were arrayed around the inlaid-stone circle in the floor.
Eynon had chosen the best men he had for the mission. All were trained killers and men who would fight to the death for their king. Well, all except the intern, Teifion Belvin. The thing was that four of the assassins had not returned from their last mission to kill a Vatharian dissident in Ushos, so Eynon was a bit short-staffed. Intern Belvin looked the part, though, so Eynon was sure Boal wouldn't notice the newest trainee had been included.
The men were dressed as well-to-do merchants, the idea being that they would not attract much attention in Lagar's Haven, where human merchants were seen increasingly often. The other option had been to have everybody dress in black, but in their experience, nine men dressed in black trying to sneak down a street at night got a lot more notice. Eynon still got sick to his stomach when he thought about that mission, from two years ago. Half the team had been captured, and harshly mocked as “oh, so sneaky” before being returned for a ransom.
However dressed, Eynon still knew his men were deadly. Strong and young, they could move more quietly than a rat, could poison like a snake, and were all masters of the blade. Except the intern, of course, but he was sort of okay.
Boal looked at the team with approval. “Listen men. One last time before we go through: We arrive in the old weavers’ temple. It will be empty, although locked. We pick the lock, and then move out into the city in groups of three. My group first. Our contact, whom you know, will be nearby outside, if he judged it safe. Otherwise, we head to the inn. The contact will inform us where our soldiers are being held captive. We go there and free them, killing as many of the orcs as we can without raising a general alarm. The primary target is Sir Bowen, but we will free as many of the other men as we can. It is a festival day there, so we expect the guards may well be drunk.”
There was a soft “yeah, let’s do it” from the assassins at the mention of freeing their countrymen from the grasp of the evil orcs, and then Boal continued, “We can give the freed prisoners the extra clothing you have with you. We then head back as quickly as possible to the weavers’ temple. I will then teleport us back here. If something has happened to me, you should scatter and make it back to Vathary on trading ships or with caravans as best you can. In particular, the Vatharian ship ‘The Red Herring’ is currently docked in Lagar's Haven, and the captain has been warned he may be contacted and will provide you aid.”
The men nodded, a look of grim determination on their faces. They knew that maybe not all of them would be coming home9.
“Take hands. Ready?” asked Boal, as he grasped the hand of the two agents next to him.
The agents replied “ready” in unison, and grasped hands. They stepped into the circle together, as gray and white whiskers of light spread out from Boal and wrapped around the eight men. They faded out of existence in the sorcery room in Carstones, and faded back into existence in the stone circle in the Temple of Elemental Fashion in Lagar’s Haven.
They’d been expecting silence, but instead their ears were overwhelmed with the noise coming from the walls. The room they were in seemed empty, but from the next room, just on the other side of a thin door, they could hear very loud music played to a pounding beat. The whole building would shake slightly on the downbeats. Three of the assassins began nodding along on the beats.
“What the hells? I thought this temple was supposed to be empty?” Eynon said, his words directed approximately toward Boal.
“It was. Our intelligence was evidently faulty. Now see what is happening on the other side of that door,” replied Boal.
Agent Garold Magard and Eynon very quietly and sneakily opened the door, just a crack. They peered into the second room. It was a larger room, full of creatures, and most of them were dancing maniacally to the loud music. There were orcs, goblins, elves, some large furry things, something really large and red towards the back. He estimated that two-thirds of the dancers were female. They closed the door and turned back to the other assassins.
“It may be a cult ceremony. It looks like a cult – They are dancing as if possessed and most are wearing the same shirt, with High Goblin symbols spelling out a strange word” said Eynon, who had studied scripts and languages as part of his Senior Agent training.
“What do their shirts say?” asked Boal.
“SFAC sir. Some sort of arcane word of power, I think. My guess is that it’s probably used as an invocation in their anti-human cult, sir.”
“Hmm… cultists pledged to this unnatural SFAC power!!” said Boal. He thought for a moment, and turned to the rest of the squad. “Agents, I want you to kill as many of the cultists as possible. Prepare weapons and get ready. On my signal.”
“But, sir, it's mostly women, and they don’t seem armed. We don’t kill non-combatants, unless they are in the way of our mission,” explained Agent Magard. “Many of them are pretty, too.”
“Their prettiness doesn’t matter,” said Boal. “I gave you an order. I judge that they are a danger to this mission. And need I remind you that I am a sorcerer and am worth ten men in battle. Prepare your weapons.”
“Sir, I really must warn you, that the room was full! Perhaps fifty more of the monsters. Orcs, goblins, other things I’m not even sure about. There may have been a dragon in the back. We may get many, but it would be a fight and some would escape, and they might warn others.”
“Fine, fine. Sheath your weapons. We’ll go out the other way,” said Boal, clearly not happy about it.
As the assassins began to put away their blades, Intern Belvin asked “Hey, guys, is that giant wolf supposed to be there?”
He pointed toward the back of the room, opposite the door they’d been preparing to open. “I mean, you guys are aware that there is a giant wolf crouched down over there, watching us, right?”
Belvin hadn’t yet completed all his training, so was more observant than the other assassins. The government liked to select trainees for intelligence, observation skills, and the ability to think on the fly; then they trained them into blind obedience.
Nine heads simultaneously turned to look toward the other side of the room. There was indeed a massive gray wolf, teeth bared, crouched down and ready to spring. He seemed to be calculating how many seconds it would take to kill each of the assassins, and how many seconds he would need between each chomp.
It was Magard who summed up the situation: “Oh, shit!” he said.
The wolf sprung, but at that same moment the door to the work room opened, and three female arms reached in and grabbed three of the assassins.
As they grabbed him, Eynon could hear one of the women scream “Human males! I knew I smelled them. There are human males in here! Ladies, come get yourselves a human male!”
Further orc and goblin women rushed in the door, grabbing the rest of the men. Enyon assumed this meant they were about to be ripped to shreds or otherwise sacrificed to the SFAC power the cultists worshiped.
The giant wolf had sprung, but before he could chomp down on Agent Carey, one of the goblin women intervened and grabbed the agent’s head, which was already in the wolf’s mouth. “No, Shadow! No chomping! He is mine!” she yelled, while she pushed the giant wolf back. The wolf whined a loud complaint as the women took the males through the door.
As he was dragged into the dance hall, Eynon couldn’t see what had happened to Agent Boal. He did see one of the orc women grab a fluffy orange cat, and bring it into the dance hall to show everybody. Eynon couldn’t believe he had not noticed both the wolf and the cat.
The assassins were dragged into the center of the floor, and the tempo of the music increased. Eynon said a prayer to Jipater to protect him in this, his time of greatest need.10 He tried to reach for his blade to defend himself from the mass of orcs around him.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
But he was unable to reach his dagger. Instead of going to his belt, he felt his hands moving skyward, and his legs began to move in time to the beat.
Intern Belvin had been dragged onto the dance floor right next to him. Eynon shouted to him, “They are cultists! We need to get out of here! Retreat!”
“We can’t retreat sir! We are dancing!” Belvin yelled back, as he clapped in time to the beat, a pretty orc girl dancing beside him. Belvin looked back at Eynon and yelled, “You dance really well commander!”
Indeed, Eynon had tried to resist, but the beat overtook him too. He launched into a complicated dance sequence, like he used to do back at the harvest festivals in the village he grew up in. He looked toward the band, and the singer, a beautiful elf. She reminded him of his first love, Delana. Eynon lost himself entirely in the dance.
- - - -
The goddess Hista had been enjoying the time with the mortals at the after-party. She didn't get out so much, with needing to keep the world clothed and warm and all, so spending some time dancing with her cultists was good fun and a nice change of pace.
She watched as the eight human males were dragged into the room and onto the dance floor. She knew what they really were and had a flash of worry for her followers. Then she considered the assembly of orcs, goblins, giant wolves, and buggebears in the room, plus the dragon of course, and figured it would probably be okay, unless her cultists danced the assassins to death.
“The Great Mother has sent us human males!” screamed out one of the dancers. There were shouts of glee as the human males were pulled further to the center of the dance floor..
Hista looked directly at the earth and spoke quietly to it. “Mother, did You do this? The party was a bit short on males, but this really wasn't a good idea. People could be hurt! Eight assassins at the after-party! Really?”
“Oh, don’t worry, my Prickly Woolen Wonder,” She heard Her Great Mother answer back from the earth itself. “I just tweaked the timing, as this way it was more entertaining, and may lead to more creatures, not fewer. Entrails are a terribly inaccurate and beastly method of divination, don’t You think?”
“So, this is one of your fertility things?”
“Thimble! You wound me! Not everything I do involves fertility. But, yes, yes it was. It is appropriate at the Spring Equinox, don’t you think?”
“Mother!” yelled Hista at the Earth.
Hista spotted Shadow, searching around the room in a panic. He had found Wyndy, and then Wyndy started examining the newly-arrived humans and stopped dancing, helping Shadow search for something. Hista saw what they were looking for.
So the Kat’sheth have returned to the North, thought Hista to Herself.
“Look at the kitty I just found! It was in the sanctuary!” one of the orc women was shouting to her friends as she held the newly discovered feline up for the women to see.
Hista walked over to the group of women with the cat. They were petting it and there was a general consensus in the group that it was a very cute kitty, but the orange cat looked unamused and struggled to get away. Shadow was also heading toward the cat, as quickly as the giant wolf could make it through the dancing crowd.
“Oh, I'm sorry, did my little cat Boal get away? I told him to stay in the sanctuary and sleep. I'm really sorry,” Hista said, as Atsih, in the voice of an orc girl. She reached and took the cat in her arms.
The cat looked momentarily relieved to escape the group of women, but then he saw Hista's eyes and realized whom She was. He began to struggle, glowing red with heat as his cat body became lava. Hista didn't let go, but opened the door and stepped outside into the street.
Shadow had reached Hista, and tilted his head to get a better look at the struggling cat-demon, as it tried to escape the goddess’s clutches. He bared his teeth, ready to strike, as bolts of fire shot from the cat toward the wolf. The bolts never reached the wolf, prevented by some force that diverted them.
Shadow was giant wolf royalty and so obviously knew who Hista was. He asked her, “Goddess, please, I must kill the Kat'sheth you hold! It is my oath. You know how long we’ve fought to protect our land from the demons.”
“Hello, The Shadow, Our dear friend.” She held the struggling demon by the scruff of his neck, while she reached with her other hand to scritch Shadow behind the ears. “But, I cannot just give him to you to kill. It is against The Rules.”
She held Boal up and looked at him in the eyes. “However, I also cannot have you interrupting the party at my temple. That is also against The Rules, Boalgaroz. And very cheeky!”
She slapped Boal on the nose, and then threw him thirty yards down the street. The cat-demon landed on its feet, back high, fur raised, eyes glowing. Hista pointed at it and made a motion to shoo it away. Boal turned and bolted down the dark streets of the town.
Shadow took off after the Kat’sheth. Hista watched as they rounded the corner, the cat a few yards ahead but with Shadow gaining. Shadow collided with a confused-looking older human man who’d been lingering near the temple, knocking the human down into the mud. Shadow didn’t stop to apologize, but continued on after the orange cat.
- - - -
Meanwhile, Wyndy was trying to pull Hargest off the dance floor.
Shadow had warned Wyndy that the men were Vatharian assassins. Wyndy had checked it out, saw that the newcomers were armed and could well be assassins, and had told her sister. Myla and Wyndy then huddled with Scarlett in the back about what to do.
The three women made the decision to start pulling creatures off the dance floor, free them from the dance, and put together a team to deal with the assassins.
So, as Shadow chased Boal through the streets of Lagar’s Haven, Wyndy and Myla were there, dealing with Hargest’s dance-mania.
“Hargest! There are Vatharian assassins in the room! We need your help! You must stop dancing!” yelled Myla over the music.
“I can’t stop dancing! This song is too good!” he yelled back.
“But Sir Hargest! There are Vatharian assassins!” yelled Wyndy. “AS-SAS-INS! HERE!”
“Oh, yeah, there is one over there. I know him! That’s Garold Magard!” Hargest danced toward Magard and waved. “Hey man! Great to see you! Glad you could make it!”
Magard was dancing rather closely with a cute goblin girl. He looked up and yelled back “Hargest, hey! Good to see you dude! Great to be here. Great party! We are here to rescue you from the orcs and goblins!”
“Oh, cool, right. We’ll catch up later then.” Hargest danced back toward Wyndy, as Magard went back to dancing with the goblin.
Wyndy directed Scarlett to reach her claws out, pick up Hargest by his jacket, and bring him back over to the side for Wyndy and Myla to try to talk some sense into him.
Scarlett held Hargest suspended about a foot off the floor, but Hargest didn’t notice. He was still moving his feet to the rhythm and his arms were still in the air, clapping on the second and fourth beats.
“Sir Hargest,” Wyndy yelled, “Concentrate! I can free you from the dance. But you must recite the Goddess Doaris’ Litany Against Dancing. Say it with me now!”
Scarlett lowered him until he was within Wyndy’s reach. She gripped his forehead, fighting to keep him in one place amidst the shaking, shimmying and swaying.
She yelled out the words, as Hargest repeated them.
“I must not dance.
Dance makes you happy.
Dance is the little joy that brings total exhilaration
I will deafen my ears to the music
I will permit the beat to pass over me and through me
My butt will not shake, nor will my hips twitch
And when the beat has gone past, I will tell myself
But I don’t feel like dancing. There’ll be no dancing today.”
After the first recitation of the Litany, Hargest began to slow, and his clapping was no longer on the beat. Wyndy gripped him harder, and they repeated it in unison. Hargest’s feet stopped moving and his butt stopped shaking. Again they said the Litany. A sad, calm look came over Hargest’s face. He was no longer dancing. Scarlett put him down.
“Now, Hargest! Pay attention! Get Helnae, and then we need to tell Sionia. I have a plan,” said Wyndy. “Do you remember the elven Dance of Order from last year?”
- - - -
Running through the dark streets of Lagar’s Haven, Shadow was hot on the trail of the cat-demon. He’d closed to within ten yards, and rounded the corner where he could smell the Kat’sheth.
The orange cat had stopped, and was facing Shadow, back raised. The cat’s tail twitched, and a black tentacle extended from the tail, attempting to strike Shadow directly across his chest.
Aida had had twenty years to prepare her guardians for such an event – the return of the corruption magic of Lothar. Shadow, as a paladin sworn to protect the land from demons, had been the best of her students among the wolves.
Shadow’s ears twitched while his eyes glowed silver. Translucent magic silver armor covered and shielded his body. The black tendril impacted and the armor flared bright white. Shadow was blown back ten yards, but otherwise unharmed.
Boal’s tail twitched again. He hissed “Orange cat energy!” as he channeled the forces of corruption, and another black tentacle spun out from the demon-cat. Shadow tried to dodge, but it hit him on his back left leg, partially penetrating his armor. Shadow’s magic silver armor started to fade out.
In so much pain that he could hardly see, Shadow ran back, escaping around the corner and trying to put as much distance as he could between himself and the Kat’sheth. The cat trotted after him, tail raised.
His back leg started to give out after a hundred yards. He wouldn’t be able to outrun the Kat’sheth. He concentrated and tried to re-conjure his armor.
He needed help. But he was a wolf, so he could summon help.
Shadow pointed his nose to the sky and let out a loud howl. A howl with the message that hadn’t been heard in the land in over two decades.
- - - -
Back at the after-party, Fluffy hadn’t done very well with Luna, but was having better success chatting up Storm, who had been impressed with his performance with the choir the day before.
Suddenly though, the wolves at the party heard the faint sound of a howl, even through the music and noise of the dancing. Their ears alerted and they froze in place to listen. It was the howl telling of one of the greatest dangers to the canines of Pelsa: The return of the Kat’sheth.
Within a few seconds, Fluffy, Storm and Luna were out on the streets, as were another sixty canines. Giant wolves, normal wolves, sly foxes, normal foxes, and the smarter of the town’s dogs joined them. They howled together to amplify and spread the message, and then set out around the city looking for the scent of their ancient enemy.
Luckily, the first to arrive at Shadow’s side was a small brown wiener dog named Vaup. Vaup normally lived in the Old Forest with Duchess Rhoswen, but liked to come to town to perform with the Pelsan Canine Choir during the festivals. He’d been at the party at the castle, but hadn’t yet gone to bed as he felt he needed to mark a few more streets.
The weiner dog sorcerer reached the wounded wolf paladin just as the Kat’sheth raised its tail again. The dog sneezed and a strong green shield covered Shadow as the black tentacles lashed against it, the wolf unharmed behind the shield. The wiener dog barked and a blast of green force threw the cat-demon back ten yards.
From all around came the sound of barking canines, as they closed in on the location of the Kat’sheth.
The orange cat turned and ran back down the street, heading toward the River Gate.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
9 Translator's Note: And, well, they weren’t wrong.
10 Translator's Note: According to the creatures of Pelsa, The Sky Father has a well-developed sense of humor (as everybody who has contemplated existence has probably also noticed). He chuckled at the assassin’s prayer as the cultists pulled the human males to the dance floor.