7.07
“You can’t solve every problem with a Fireball!”
“Bold words for someone within Fireball range.” - Interaction between Magus Ackuaz and her nemesis Magus Fireball.
This wasn’t the first time I had faced an army of goblins alone.
Unlike last time, I knew their position, their numbers, I could guess their fighting capability. There wouldn’t be a scripted death scene like in the tutorial. Back then I started with ambush strategies because of the limitations of my abilities and my mana pool, but I had also made several mistakes in hindsight, the goblin mage which led to my defeat could’ve been quickly killed while he was asleep. Tunnel vision however demanded stealth and a clean escape, perfections which my tools didn’t allow. It would’ve been a gamble whether I escaped from those remaining goblins in time, especially under sunlight, but it was a chance compared to the slow encirclement I found myself in.
There wouldn’t be such mistakes, I assured myself as I came closer and closer. It shall be a quick, clean and efficient battle. Me whittling down the entire goblin attack and undoing my mistake.
Then I stopped. Sounds of activity close in the distance, but still obscured by the woods, Yellow returned, reporting his scouting trip. It found me a relatively hidden knoll which let me look over the camp. Though I glowed, I shouldn’t be seen unless viewed at a certain angle.
My truesight quickly confirmed their numbers but… I hesitated to call it a hundred fighting goblins. There were little goblins, well, littler that seemed to be playing. Children, numbering around a fifth of the force, another two-fifths appeared to be simple laborers. Doing final war preparations like mending clothes and armor, some were even working on what appeared to be crude siege equipment.
What paused me however, was the simple life of it. A mother dragged a child by the ear as they came too close to the line of guards surrounding the camp. A carpenter borrowed a hammer from a peer to mend a wheel. A circle of goblin fighters sat in clear solemnity around a cook pot. Some part of me knew they were eating knowing it could be the final meal of their lives. That part of me was young, it was born when I discussed with Noam and Tai how we could fight a conceptual memory eater, perhaps truly risking my life for the first time ever, and it recognized the same in those goblins.
The tenseness of the air was a blanket on the camp, but it didn’t smother the clear life there was here.
I looked away, lying on my back.
I was going to murder people.
I have already murdered people.
That civilian who was victim to my collateral damage wasn’t even the first. I’ve killed goblins from this same group, along with the raving chimerist that earned me my mercenary plate. Gaia was… surely not in Gaia, that was purely Eve’s domain, where everything was more scripted, followed game logic more closely. The mobs were more like actors in a play than living things in their own world.
Hopefully.
Perhaps the strangest thing was realizing I wasn’t all too bothered by it. Then that brought my sense of morality into question, I knew I barely had one. The closest thing I had to morality was Noam, who actually bothered to save people in need rather than their own skin, whose tone turned despising when he recounted his encounters with Scarlet Samsara. Travelers who still acted as if this was really still a game. As if a decent Charisma score justified having your way with people, or merely calling their opponents mobs or bosses, or treating the kidnapping in broad daylight as an eccentric quest.
That was the real problem wasn’t it.
I didn’t care for morality, I cared for my friend that cared for morality, and to be entirely fair, Noam made for a terrible morality compass.
I knew this, but it was in the same way a person knew they had money in the bank, but found coins between the couch cushions. You always had them, but it was a surprise to find them. All these little flaws about yourself hidden behind the nooks and crannies of your psyche, lying there forgotten until a terrible situation called them to light.
I could kill everyone down there.
The plan was already in my head, it would only be mildly difficult to pull off. Some part of me was still calculating, preparing plan Bs, optimizing routes, sporage placements and mana use.
I could do it, I could do a small scale genocide and wouldn’t even feel that bad about it.
That thought kept me still, forced me to let opportunity after opportunity pass. My apprehension towards this didn’t even really factor Noam in, he would understand. He’s doesn’t care about killing, he cares about choosing who, and I had plenty reason to finish the job we started. No, what stopped me was the indecision of weighing different paths in a video game. A split path down a dungeon, what would come out choosing the left door, what would be lost from not visiting the right door. Unlike doors this can’t be taken back, I only had the one choice.
Even framing the problem that way was just morally bankrupt, I was measuring lives by their worth to me. I recognized I was a terrible person, but I didn’t want it proven by my actions. Thoughts of deeds were different than committing them. You could fantasize all day long about the greatest violence you could inflict, but you could always take back your own thoughts. You can’t take back your actions.
I will be rewarded for murdering all those people down there. I will not be judged, I will not be questioned. Nothing lay down the other path where I simply didn’t.
As time passed, the look outs changed, I saw a familiar face, and my decision was made.
I stepped out of cover, without a single prepared defense, trap or plan, in full view of that goblin.
He opened his mouth to call out for back up, but paused as he saw me. Recognition flitted through his eyes, a failed raid, memories of hiding in a pile of his friends’ corpses, the lizardfolk and myconid who found him yet let him live.
The goblin still raised his crude spear, he wasn’t an idiot.
My hands rose, “I’ve come to talk.”
He did not lower his spear. “About what?”
“You people will not win,” I stated. “The mercenary guilds will take you down. You will take out a good number of them with you, but even you understand that it is a suicide mission.”
Other goblins were closing in now, weapons raised but not yet attacking. The goblin I left alive seemed to be somewhat better dressed, higher ranked. “So what?”
“I want to understand what drove you guys to commit suicide,” I was surprised by my own words. They come from a place so deep even I didn’t realize their truth until it was spoken. “If you’re afraid, I am a contractor. I can craft an agreement where I will not harm a single one of you so long as you do not harm me first.”
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The goblin in response lowered his weapon, made a few gestures to the other encroaching goblins. Most lowered their weapons, and held me in quiet apprehension. One went back to camp. “Word the agreement.”
I nodded, with slow and exaggerated movements I tapped my staff on the ground. “In common? And I need a name to pen.”
“I am Yilignar Corpseborn,” he answered with a tone that indicated it should be blindingly obvious where he got that title.
Dustin the Thrice Blinded agrees with Yilignar Corpseborn to not harm any of Yilignar Corpseborn’s people, family, tribe, group or allies for the next three days unless in self defense.
This agreement will be held with all watching members and their gods as witnesses.
“Do you agree with these terms as stated?”
“Until the conclusion of our raid on the wayshard and guild base,” he added.
An elderly voice spoke up as the runner returned with an old goblin along with a few hobgoblins. “And that you shall not reveal information of us.”
The words changed to reflect his desire.
The elder hobbled closer with his staff, “I am Ha’Oh’Kelck Dry Leaf, we are the tribe of Lost.”
The final contract took shape.
Dustin the Thrice Blinded agrees with the Tribe of Lost, represented by Yilignar Corpseborn and Ha’Oh’Kelck Dry Leaf to not intentionally harm or take harmful action that may indirectly harmany of the Tribe of Lost’s family, group or allies, including but not limited to actions that may reveal information about their strategic and tactical plans and operations, until the conclusion of their raid on the Gestrand Forest Mercenary Guild Base unless in self defense.
This agreement will be held with all watching members and their gods as witnesses.
“Do you agree with these terms as stated?”
They agreed, and the contract slipped into place.
“Who is that to you Yilignar?” the elder asked.
“He is the one who let me live.”
Ha’Oh’Kelck leaned forward, “Then what is it that you seek?”
“What you seek,” I set down my staff. “Why you do what you do.”
“To live,” Yilignar answered quickly.
“We are all fighting for life,” I replied, “what makes you oppose the mercenary guild? What decided who your enemies are?”
There was silence, but it was silence in the tone of the dumbfounded. One hobgoblin roared out, his anger barely contained within his armor, “You’re people kidnapped us! Brought us across the sea in chains to be used as slaves!”
Ah.
Goblins originated from Branika, where Utoqa came from.
That hobgoblin almost raised his weapon, but Ha’Oh’Kelck raised his hand first, “We are a tribe of lost and scattered souls from many different tribes and peoples, gathered together to survive those that would hunt us and chain us again.”
I nodded in understanding. “You’re enemies then are the dwarves and elves who war to carve out your homeland like a cake, and their many allies on this continent.”
The elder nodded. “You are a mercenary yes? I would wish to hire you.”
And there was the catch, why they didn’t just ignore me after signing the non-aggression contract and why he bothered answering my questions.
“He is one of them,” the hobgoblin spat in protest.
“I am a Traveler, I belong to no nation or people,” I returned. “I know the why now, may I venture to know the how? What do you seek to accomplish by obtaining Gestrand Forest?”
It was a guild base, even if they grabbed it they wouldn’t be able to hold it for long, and there weren’t many things there worth taking. Unless the guild receptionist Tignflut was somehow worth something to these people.
“The wayshard,” Yilignar spoke up. “We will claim it.”
“To go back home?” I asked.
“We have had children,” elder Ha’Oh’Kelck sighed in resignation.
They can’t go back, not unless they wanted to leave behind all their kids to their fate. They needed to secure a route home. I saw the lay of their plan now, this far inland they would have to continue skirmishing. Securing a wayshard would allow them to send a few people back to perhaps call for reinforcements, get the goblins still in Branika to launch a larger operation to rescue them all.
It was hopeless.
Dwarf and elvish colonies littered and controlled Branika’s closest sea ports, and they were too far inland in Braunad, completely surrounded by enemies and hostiles. Even if it worked it would be years before any sort of help.
The plan was destined to failure, yet they had no other chance. No other path forward.
But I could help them.
“I must know, between vengeance and home, which would you prefer?”
Elder Ha’Oh’Kelck raised an eyebrow, “Why do you wish to know?”
“Because I may be able to bloodlessly let you all return home, but I will not assist you in war.” I picked up my staff again, it’s gnarled wooden eyes seemed to glow as I spoke. “I am a contractor who can access a myriad of planes, I could facilitate extraplanar help, perhaps find you someone who can bring you back to your home. I cannot guarantee I can find someone powerful enough to do so, but it is a chance.”
I offered my hand, and after a moment of consideration, Ha’Oh’Kelck Dry Leaf took it.
It was the first time I used my Fairy Circle the way it was intended to function. The circle took on its normal appearance, but this time Ha’Oh’Kelck was in there with me, and I pushed it deeper and deeper. Until the Fairy Circle was not just a mere overlay upon reality, but a half-formed portal into another plane.
Ha’Oh’Kelck took a deep breathe, “I seek to make a deal with one who can return us to our home in Branika.”
There was no answer in the first plane, so I shifted it with a thought, no less difficult than turning a page to reach another plane. Ha’Oh’Kelck repeated his request each time, his intentions broadcasted further by the Fairy Circle.
It was on the Elemental Plane of Wind that he got his first response. A wind elemental answered his call, but it shirked away as Ha’Oh’Kelck mentioned the number it would have to ferry and the distances involved.
This repeated a few times, other elementals, other outsiders, until the environment began to burn. Smoldering rock and brimstone surrounded us as the First Hell answered. A scream of power and blood that fell like rain as the light above was smothered.
“I am Arch Devil Kathronanburg the Weeping Skies, one hundred souls you ask me to ferry, one hundred souls I shall have in return.”
Ha’Oh’Kelck paused in consideration, but shook his head, “I asked for freedom, not to be clasped in fresher chains.”
There was a dark chuckle, “Who said it has to be your souls paid?”
I narrowed my eyes, watching Ha’Oh’Kelck. He knew I would protest making a deal with a devil. Not because I thought it was morally wrong, but by the time they gathered one hundred souls, their number was bound to have changed. Not to mention all the trickery a devil was reputed to have.
The presence laughed as it began to withdraw, “Remember Kathronanburg. With my name you need not this charlatan to craft a contract. We were the first to make Oaths.”
The Fairy Circle was left empty, simply a half-portal to the First Hell. Other devils lurked to the side, keeping their distance, but coming closer to make their own offers. “Shall we continue?” I asked.
“Please,” Ha’Oh’Kelck requested.
The First Hell bled away as we continued to flip through planes like TV channels. We started repeating a few planes in hopes of calling someone who wasn’t nearby when we first arrived.
It was on our third pass through of Arcadia that my transference was forcefully halted. Frozen and kept on a certain point in Arcadia.
“I am the Duchess of Unrelenting Wildfire!” a woman screamed with the crackle of burning wood. Fae, she seemed stronger than that last devil, more importantly, she seemed pissed. I moved to manually shatter the Fairy Circle but the Duchess was a step faster, flame enveloped and trapped me as she turned to face the elder goblin. Her magic held my Fairy Circle from being mentally dismissed, and the fire stopped me from breaking the mushroom circle. “I seek a man who has just escaped me, he was last seen in Branika. I shall bring you there, and you people native to the continent will help me find him.”
Ha’Oh’Kelck frowned, “It depends on who that is, and whether or not we can actually find them.”
The fire cackled, and it was the sound of a forest breathing its last, “He is the Author of Enchiridion, my rightfully wedded husband.”
“We would need to be returned to our people. A mere one hundred cannot cover a continent,” Ha’Oh’Kelck said, but his voice held an edge of excitement. Where before they were satisfied landing on the continent they could now be more specific.
The Duchess scoffed, “Simple.” She raised a hand and another fae entered the circle. “He shall work out the minutia of the contract.”
With that the Duchess left, leaving Ha’Oh’Kelck to work out the contract with her minion.
It ended up being rather generous to them, they didn’t have to actively search, only keep a lookout. Of course it wasn’t worded that way, but I personally saw few ways the fine text could be exploited against the goblins. Which instead made me more paranoid for them, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When they finalized the contract, I looked at Ha’Oh’Kelck, but he seemed satisfied with it.
“Do you both agree on these terms, the Tribe of the Lost represented by Ha’Oh’Kelck Dry Leaf, and the Duchess of Unrelenting Wildfire represented by Baron Crinkling Maple?”
The elder goblin nodded and the contract was sealed.
By sunset, the entire camp was gone, and I had accomplished what I originally set out to do.