In the shallows of the ‘Arthu-Ja’an river, tucked away behind the last pier of its northern bridge along the eastern shore, I called upon a power that I had not used before, mostly because it required, at least at that point in time, an incantation, and I hate those as a matter of principle. At least it didn’t require some fancy language; the common tongue would suffice. It was but a whisper, but power rippled through creation at even such a minor utterance.
“I invoke the contract that is our bond, and as your master, I command you, come forth and see my mandate made manifest!”
A circle of light appeared above the water, followed by two more a heartbeat later to either side. The light glowed gently within, as if it were a pool of sunlight playfully inviting reality to align with my will. Up from the central and largest circle rose three heads and an upturned belly as The Boys appeared in front of me. Apparently in the middle of getting a belly rub, they keeled over and splashed awkwardly into the water. Stubby legs kicked fervently in the air, but they righted themselves in short order, all heads eagerly attentive to my orders.
More disturbingly, two Giant Frogs appeared in the other two circles with a noteworthy delay, the beginnings of their appearance starting after The Boys had uprighted themselves. Both were smooth and slender, much like tree frogs, but were so large as to be taller than my own person while in their natural sitting position.
The first had a black body, but with patterns of red, orange, and yellow that resembled flames going up his legs, lower back, and belly. It too plopped into the water, where it stared at me with an expression I found to be unreadable. The second seemed to be a girl as evidenced by a ribbon tied into a bow that was placed on her head, slightly askew from center. How a frog got ahold of such a ribbon or how it stayed attached would be a mystery for the ages. Not that boys cannot wear ribbons, but I don’t know how progressive Giant Frogs are in that respect. Her body was a maze of purple and green stripes, each having dots of the opposite color within them. On closer inspection, some of those dots were skull and crossbones, which seemed ominous.
And suddenly, the mystery of the triple cost of that Ability became apparent. It was not that each head of the hydra incurred a cost, but rather that there were three separate creatures I could call upon. I had thought of the Giant Frogs as mere passing companions, ones that would return to their lives, but I had given them names, and names must have borne weight upon their Fate.
“Boys, Hopper, Ribbette, good to see you all. We are going to hold this bridge and annihilate anyone who dares approach, except for my companions. The Boys will take the lead, you two will cover him. Any questions?”
The frogs unblinking gaze belied their intelligence, for after a few moments, they each raised their front right leg to their head in some appearance of a salute. The Boys nodded eagerly, then turned to wade around the pier and face the shore.
I released the seal upon the Boys that restricted their size, another thing that I had not done before. I don’t know what I expected, but the sheer size of them baffled me. Three giant and writhing heads appeared to rise up from the waters near the bank of the river as supported by long necks, each easily twice as thick as a man was tall. At their full height, I would guess they stood five or six stories high. With one massive foot waddling up the bank, The Boys lunged forward, their little stub of a tail never leaving the water.
With great roars that caused terrified men to tremble before them, The Boys launched their opening volley upon the camp. Aristotle breathed forth a continual jet of fire that spread out across the camp, consuming all before it in ravenous flames that melted iron and burned through men and fortifications alike. Plato gave forth short bursts of water, each like a massive drop of rain propelled at high speeds that smashed into the fortifications around the camp. Watch towers shattered like they were made of twigs in the grasp of an angry god while man and beast were crushed or ripped asunder by the overwhelming pressure. Socrates spewed forth a foul black mist that enveloped the land before him. I could not see into the mist, but I saw what was left in its wake: desiccated plants that had withered within seconds, husks of corpses that had been petrified within a few heartbeats, and earth tainted black and bereft of life.
Hopper leapt onto the shore, and as some brave souls on the flanks rushed our position, he pushed himself down and back like a sprinter preparing for a race. Then, like an arrow loosed, he sprung forward, his body hovering about a foot off the ground as he covered over two hundred feet in almost an instant with a single hop. Bodies flew everywhere as he smashed his way through them, and in his wake, he left a trail of fire twice as tall as a man. I think if I blinked I would have missed it, for he crisscrossed the camp in single bounds with reckless abandon as he wrecked everything before him.
But the defenders were not so easily routed. Men gathered to banners and the standard came forth. Shieldwalls rose as magical barriers followed behind them. Volleys of fire and lightning fell upon The Boys, each harmlessly absorbed by their black scales. They paid no heed to the attacks, but the attackers themselves were not spared such concern. Even behind their magical defenses, they found no safety, for the three-fold wrath of the Boys descended upon them with unrelenting breath attacks. The barriers held, for a few seconds, and then cracks formed. Cracks gave way to the overwhelming pressure, and like a fox in the henhouse, all were consumed by the barrage from The Boys.
A cabal of [Mages] near the front gates of the fortification around the bridge were nearing completion of some ritual. Ribbette, whom I had forgotten about during the chaos, seemingly appeared behind them out of thin air. With a great bellow, she croaked out a loud and high pitched attack. The mages clutched at their ears, most falling to the ground in pain as they bled from all observable orifices. Their magical workings dissolved, in part because they no longer focused upon it, but also, as I suspected, because of some property of her sonic attack. Even from where I stood, I felt uncomfortable hearing such a sound, like reality itself rebelled against such an intrusion to the natural order of the universe.
I guess I expected that we would secure the bridge, valiantly fighting to hold off the enemy long enough for the others to bring down the wards. I thought we would lose ground as we were pushed back on the bridge, doing all we could to buy each precious second before we retreated. I did not expect such annihilation. Of the thousand or so men and women who manned this little fort here at the bridge, maybe one in five had succeeded in fleeing the camp proper. With my extraordinary senses, I simply watched as the frogs chased them down. Ribbette let forth a hail of needles from her mouth, and the men so hit by them died before they could take ten steps due to some deadly poison. Hopper leapt high into the sky above those who retreated, only to smash down with titanic force and sending shockwaves that caused the earth to ripple unnaturally. Men fell as the earth rose up to meet them, and few regained their footing before Hopper landed upon them.
With the camp secure, The Boys stretched their necks out to grab whatever dead beasts of burden they could reach, careful to never let their tail leave the water. They munched away happily, nonplussed by the carnage around them. I found myself disturbed by what had just happened, myself unbelieving the scale of destruction that my pets were capable of unleashing. I wondered if I had just committed a war crime, that my actions here would have dire political consequences. My mind raced down the implications presented by the worst case scenarios, but the return of Hopper and Ribbette coaxed my wits to return.
“Did any escape or survive,” I asked.
The frogs sat still for a moment, then turned to look at each other, then back to me. They shook their heads.
“Good job everyone,” I said as I acknowledged that it had definitely been a war crime. “I am so proud of all of you.”
I continued to praise and pet them, the frogs especially enjoying pets on the head both between the eyes and below on the throat. The Boys were just too damn big to do much to pet them, even when they rolled over for some belly rubs. I did jump up and onto their belly for said rubs, which they appreciated.
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Satisfied that I praised them enough, I returned to the ground. I applied the size limitation back to The Boys, who shrunk back down to their more manageable form.
“Oath to order had been called upon, the muster for summons answered, the tribute of labor paid in full. I release you now to your own desires until next I call upon you.”
With that second incantation, I released them back to where they came, for they had only been summoned for a short while and not truly teleported to me. Fatigue washed over me as the last lights of their circles faded, and with shaky steps, I looted what I could of the camp, ensuring I grabbed the standard, before I made my way back to the bridge. I invoked my restorative Abilities to sooth away my fatigue, and while my natural ability to resist such limitations of the flesh was impressive, I knew that my mana was more than half drained from that excursion. It had not even been ten minutes from beginning to end, including the petting, and some thousand souls had departed to the hereafter. I lamented more how draining the experience had been than the loss of life, for they were the invaders who chose to trespass upon the lands I call home, and so they forsook any claim to mercy. By the time I made it halfway back to the others, I felt right as rain.
Ahead of me on the bridge, Skull was holding back enemies of her own. Twenty men could march abreast in a shieldwall across the bridge, and they had been stalled by one woman. Granted, that was one intimidating woman in bitchin’ black armor with macabre décor, but it was still a sight to behold.
She slashed out at the air in front of her, seemingly wildly and randomly, only for shadows of herself to rush forward and repeat those attacks on the shieldwall, the shadowy blade passing through armor and men alike as if they were made of paper. Dark shadows coalesced around her as each enemy fell, her presence seeming to swell and grow into some dark horror that towered over them, its grin a wicked invitation to terror unabated. Sergeants shouted and blew whistles to keep men in line, but the left flank routed, first one man, and then five more after him.
With their shieldwall broken, Skull pounced eagerly at the opportunity, charging forward at that opening and cutting down four men in a single swing of her zweihänder. A shadow of her remained where she had started her charge, and as the enemy tried for a counter attack, she instantly switched places with her shadow doppelganger, which dispersed from the onslaught of their panicked swings.
Eerie spirits of shadowy smoke oozed out of her form, each one shrieking the shrill cry of a banshee as they darted towards the enemy. They passed through bodies harmlessly, but each person grew more unhinged as terror clawed at the dark corners of their minds. Their advance halted completely as men refused to step towards Skull, their bodies rebelling against the demands of their minds to press forward. More routed with each swing of her blade, and her shadowy presence swelled into a tyrant towering over them, a villain from their worst nightmares made manifest as it cackled callously at the slaughter before it.
Like a burst dam, the line folded completely, and the panic-fueled rout turned into a mad dash to escape. Men who tripped were trampled by the sudden stampede of terrified soldiers. Some even ran off the bridge and into the water in their haste, their heavy armor dragging them under where their only salvation would be found in death by drowning. A terrible fate, but apparently more appealing than what nightmares their fears had concocted in their minds. By the time I finished walking up to her, only the dead remained of the enemy on the bridge.
And then, besides the dead, Skull and I were alone on the bridge, the only spectators to the massacre that had occurred only moments before. She turned to face me while removing her helmet, her zweihänder floating in the air beside her, dark smoke and shadow idly fluctuating all too slowly compared to real fire as it caressed the blade and bathed it in the power of Gulthar. Her long black hair, now unbound by her helmet, tumbled down, and seemingly sorted itself out as if it had been freshly combed. Despite her exertion, not a bead of sweat could be found upon her brow.
“I could feel it from here,” she stated flatly. “The fear, the unbridled terror of men and women fleeing for their lives,” she continued with increasing enthusiasm as her hands went to her face like a young maiden glancing at a strapping young lad. “I could feel their horror at the slaughter, the panic as death took hold of them tighter and tighter.” By this point her arms had crossed themselves to hug her body just above the hips as she swayed slightly side to side, her face blushing and her voice increasing in speed and excitement. “I could feel Gulthar smiling down upon you as men and women cried out in vain to their gods for salvation, making promises for anything and everything for their lives to be spared.” She panted longingly as she looked up as in thought, her imagination running wild as a depraved leer adorned her face. She stepped right up to me, her fingers and thumb gripping my chin as she pulled my head down slightly so we would see each other eye to eye. “I knew coming along with you would see proper sacraments offered to Gulthar.” She leaned in, her mouth right by my ear, her hot breath tickling my ear as she whispered.
“What other delights will we find together before this war ends?”
I felt myself blush. I thought Chooka was daring, but Skull could give her a run for her money when it came to subtle (or less than subtle) advances. Perhaps having no fear at all gave her a leg up for those sorts of things. I had no chance to make a reply, for she turned to the side of the bridge in the span of a heartbeat and took a step to the edge as a pair of small hands and a proportionally small boot appeared on the edge.
“That was quite the show,” exclaimed Bellwrigth loudly for the two of us to hear as he scrambled up over the edge. “For a second there I thought my ex had joined the battle, but I guess that was only your hydra,” he continued as he brushed himself off and straightened his clothes. “Still, that beast was massive, what do you feed it?”
My mind was still trying to process everything that had happened, especially with Skull just now, and so it took me a moment to properly respond. “Beasts and monsters from quests, cheese, snacks from vendors, maybe the odd gnome or two,” I replied after a short delay.
“Hmph. I think I know a gnome or two who would be greatly improved by passing through a hydra’s digestive system,” he grumbled back. “I could give you names and addresses,” he said hopefully with a small grin growing on his face.
“That won’t be necessary. I can just hang out near a hattery and have my pick of the litter.”
That got a guffaw from Bellwright and a smile from Skull, so I considered that a win.
“Ain’t it the truth?” Bellwright, now that the jokes were over, suddenly took on a more serious expression as he straightened his posture. “The bridge is set for demolition. I guess the twins finally figured it out without any premature detonations. They somehow did some arcane tomfoolery that linked your demolition traps to the other half of the bridge and their own power. Shall we be away then?”
I nodded in assent, and before long, the whole crew was back in the boat. We made our way back upstream, and at about a mile away, Garro got on one knee before Rarro, holding out his hand as if holding a ring box in proposal. Instead of such a thing, a small magic circle appeared in his hand.
“Would you make me the happiest man in the world,” he asked Rarro.
Rarro, being overly dramatic, put his hands to his face in mock shock. “Oh Garro, yes, yes! Nothing would make me happier”, he exclaimed with mock excitement that was a little over the top.
As Rarro pushed his finger to the circle, all eyes turned to the bridge, where nothing happened. All eyes turned back to the pair, and Rarro pushed a few more times while muttering.
“I swear this never happens,” explained Garro to the group.
Before we could rag on them too much, a loud pop greeted our ears, the sound coming from the bridge. First one, then a cascade of them as if they went along the bridge from the center and going outwards. After a short pause, the middle pier of the bridge exploded, followed in turn by the rest as pairs continued that pattern from the center and going outwards. The deck of the bridge, now unsupported, tumbled into the water, greeted by a fanfare of crashing waves in celebration of our success.
“That is some remarkable restraint from you two,” commented Skull. “I expected huge explosions, but it looks like you only used as much force as you needed to in order to collapse the bridge. Commendable work,” she finished flatly with a faint air of approval.
The twins both stood and bowed towards all of us like thespians at the conclusion of a play.
“Thank you, thank you. We could not have done it without the support of our many fans,” said Rarro cheekily. “Also, you guys were there too,” he continued with a grin.
That earned the pair a few light punches from everyone nearby, and indeed everyone was laughing. Even the reserved Gulfore cracked a smile at the twins’ antics.
The rest of the ride was filled with idle chatter, and with nothing of note happening, we made our way back to where we camped the previous night. As night fell, we set up camp there again, and I made reports back to command about our mission. Overall, the day was a solid win that exceeded expectations, which certainly made morale quite high. If only the same could be said for all fronts.