Chapter 23: Uprising!

So long as sentient beings not only seek prosperity but do it by righteous means, people can survive all types of torment. For rulers, we have to lead those groups to success, but far too often do we convince them to commit vile actions for our gain. Or worse, use the language of virtuous ideals to unite people behind otherwise objectionable ends.

Same with the Oligarchs and ghosts, and well… the Tripolians with the Oligarchs. Certain leaders command folks to depravity. You don’t have to believe, you already know it.

The Oligarch of Periatus was that filthy type of ruler that seduced the masses into following his ever growing violation and destruction of the lands he was supposed to protect.

And yet, some rulers can stop those violators. Like the Oligarch of Suncatch, upon hearing dark news, mobilized a legion to enter Periatus. He and his fellow colleagues hadn’t heard from the Periatus for weeks and rumors of a naval invasion festered. Although he wouldn’t personally be leading, he commanded them to take control and establish military law.

Good reports came in when they finally secured Vein Xinyuai and that they were able to send a fleet upward to the basins. For the commander leading them, they were pleased that they’d get to Fort Jao within the day. But not soon enough for them to help…

“What are we do-doing in the Assembly Skaldi?” Vega whispered. He had spent all day yesterday planning the revolt but this part he couldn’t come up with a partner. Skaldi’s choice of accomplice had been very limited. Florato was too big, Bolato was preparing the revolters, while Amir and Valiato had strangely disappeared all day.

Regardless, he also had another person to support him in his recon. I think you know who.

“We’re seeing what they're doing with all the people they’ve captured.” Potenti assured, stepping on the scaffolding that the scarecrow stood. “But yeah, how many days has this been happening mista?”

“I first saw it when we got here yesterday.”

“And ya didn’t do anything?” Vega questioned, not implying any ill intent on Skaldi’s part.

“You shut face.” Skaldi neutrally moaned, now descending further into the Assembly. “I’m not stron… I’m only one guy, okay?”

The team’s steps echoed throughout the marble walls and their reflected gleamed of the stained glass. This house for the government resembled more of a cathedral, but had the Iozian banners.

These banners had this holy quality that only icons from governments could have. Fabric made from Kai Ren silk with jungle wood handles cut from Matigas NaTao hands. A bright stryker metal sculpture of a blind eagle were the heads of these banners. These blind eagles judged just above where court was conducted.

A half circle facing two sets of stairs where people would stand to face judgment from the aristocrats or Oligarchs present. The Tripolian soldiers wouldn’t know this, their judges was a spear or arrow.

On each seat was a set of bones painted an emerald glow. Both Vega and Potenti didn’t seem too bothered by it, but Skaldi’s forehead turned purple.

“Shit. This is bad.”

“What’s wrong? Is it the bones?”

“Gem Sacrifice.” Skaldi quivered and he collapsed on his knees.

“What?” Potenti kneeled by him, squeezing his shoulder.

“My people only performed when an elder sought to give up his life for the good of the tribe. But I've never seen it done like this. The paint, the bones, all of it is the exact same!”

“What does that mean?” Potenti urged, shaking the stunned Skaldi. His words came out with a heavy heart.

“The Tripolians are going to sacrifice the people for Soul Gems.” Those words stayed in their minds for an eternity. Potenti was horrified. Skaldi was angered. Vega was so fucking lost.

“Is that a bad thing?” Vega leaned her head to the side.

“Of course it is you idiot!” Skaldi rose up, getting in the face of the scarecrow. “Maybe you don’t understand, but sacrifice means kill!”

“Oh! Now I get it!” Vega rubbed her head in embarrassment. Unfortunately, their volume was noticed by the raiders.

“~What was that? Is there someone in here?~” A wine soaked voice demanded.

“~Those damn bastard Iozians. Start the ritual now!~” A ghastly priest commanded, as the paint on the bones rose into a spiral pattern as a hazy mist rose up.

“Hey mista, I think we should go now!” The bluehead yelled just as the door on the walkway burst open, with a dozen raiders rushing towards them.

“Boost-boost time!” Vega crouched down and held out her hands. Each elf hopped on her gloves and she threw them both up with ease.

“Ok! Now boost me up.” Vega prompted. Potenti and Skaldi looked dumbfounded as they were now ten feet above the scarecrow, unable to grab her.

“What are you doing you idiot? Run!” Skaldi angrily spat out.

“Ya sure?”

“They got spears, you sack of dumb wheat, now run!” Skaldi screamed at her, infuriated that she would even question him for confirmation.

“I-I don’t know. Maybe they’re just-” A spear punctured straight through Vega’s foot, who took a moment to realize that she’d been hit.

“Alright. Run time!” The scarecrow broke into a sprint, just as the elfs found their way out of the Assembly. Skaldi, as he raced on top of the roofs of the city, was conflicted. On one hand he was mad that the Tripolians discovered their plot. On the other hand, he really wanted to see Vega dead.

“Well, you win some, you lose some.”

“~Get back here you weird thing!” A raider ordered, with more and more drunken Tripolians chasing after her. Vega skidded across the floor and bounced room to room. Within the minute more and more soldiers poured in, forcing her to a hallway. All of the raiders converged behind her, burping out slur and insult.

Before her laid an unfinished portion of the Assembly, a thin wooden wall meant to be filled in with marble.

“Pickaxe, don’t fail me now.” Vega snickered. She leaped into the air, holding her pickaxe way above her. Slamming down with the strength that only a scarecrow could summon, she crashed her pickaxe through the wall, sending splinters and planks.

Vega looked almost badass when she landed her feet on the pickaxe and used it to land. The raiders were initially stopped by the wall but some pulled out axes and went to work. Most of the men were hung over or drunk, which made organizing their efforts all the more harder.

“~Damn. You half all take the west wing. We’ll take the east. And I want ten men guarding the priests. Now get that scarecrow!” A hammered drunk officer roared up.

Vega sneaked behind corners, using her tempo reading skills to gauge how many raiders were in her direction. Their burps and drunken speech gave her ample sounds to create a song.

The scarecrow heard weak and lumbering tones, but every couple of minutes heard a striking rumble. She hid when she heard that rumble, and saw a group of stumbling Tripolians go by. Vega didn’t like the rhythm, but did like the soft murmurs coming from a close room.

“~Where is this bastard? How did the Oligarchs even get a scarecrow?~”

“~Do you mean where they got an animated scarecrow?~”

“~Haha, no. They’re obviously too simple to even conjure up that. They must have stolen it from us.~” A haughty officer talked down to his fellow raiders.

Crawling along the floor, she disguised herself underneath the toppled furniture of the Assembly. Papers documenting the history of the city, ripped banners, and whatever disrupt the raiders could do were present.

Vega didn’t see any guards in the main hall, for all they were searching where she had just been. A large entryway door loomed over her. Stepping out from behind a suit of armor, she took a moment to appreciate the architecture. Statues of long pasted rulers of Periatus were aligned in rows. Hundreds of years of Oligarchs, but in recent days, were defaced and vandalized by the raiders.

Vega felt sad, that all that history was ruined. Then she became happy when she saw a dog statue.

“Cute! Doggy. What-what’s ya name?” Vega sweetly spoke, petting the head of the marble dog. On a placard, its name was shown to be Periatus.

“Hello Periatus. You must have been…” Vega just realized a funny thing.This whole region was named after an Oligarch's hunting dog. “Wow, ain’t that shitty.”

“~Hey guys! I think I heard something in the hall!” A sober voice came from the hall behind. Following this, the sharp rumbling became louder and louder.

“Shoot.” Vega from out of the corner of her eye saw a door with some Tripolian scripts written on it. Taking her chances, she darted into a room and barricaded it with a chair.

“Good. Now they can’t find me.” The scarecrow proclaimed, noticing the murmuring she heard was now silent. There was a cough behind her.

She turned around to see fifty or so people crammed in a jail cell. Vega, upon seeing this, waved silently.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Hi?”

“...hello?” A frightened woman greeted.

“You guys aren’t with the bad guys right? Because if ya are, I have to run away.”

“No! No, no, no! We were taken a day ago and we haven’t eaten anything in a while. Can you break us out, good spirit?” The woman pleaded, which Vega took a bit to make sure she wasn’t trying to trick her.

“...alright. But they’re right behind this door. Maybe if there was-” Vega eyes caught a ladder just above her.

“Cool.” The scarecrow hopped onto the ladder and climbed upward.

“But aren’t you gonna-”

“I’ll be right back. Be nice to each other.” When she left, all of the captives grumbled bitterly.

Sticking her head out of the pit, Vega found a quarters for soldiers to be stationed in. Bunk and bed rolls filled the room. Tripolians filled the room, with hundreds of raiders sleeping. Each man had a ceramic cup beside themselves and puddles of alcohol around. Tiptoeing into the room, she held her pickaxe close to her chest. Many men were snoring hideously, which made Vega comfortable to start moving quicker.

Suddenly, a hand gripped her foot.

“~Mommy, can I have my blanky?~” A middle aged warrior talked in his sleep. Vega was petrified in that moment, as feared boiled in her stomach.

“Why now? Why do I have to feel bad now?”

“~Give my blanky.~”

“Can you shut up dude? I’m going through-through something.” Vega’s fear turned into a shushed anger.

“~Blanky~.” Vega bent, reaching and gently prying the fingers off of her.

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.” Vega continually begged while she got the raider’s grip off her foot. The warrior turned to his side and started to suck on his thumb.

“Jeez. People need to learn-learn how to keep their hands to themselves.” Exiting the room, she found a trio of men drinking from pots and heating their cups with a fire at the center.

“Why are they having a fire inside? Whatever.” Vega sighed.

Looking for a way to make a distraction, she noticed a bizarre set of pipes and cans tucked beside a pile of wood that the raiders used for tinder.

“Boing go!” The scarecrow saw her chance.

Vega recognized it as a distillery, currently boiling and building up pressure.

Remembering her reading of Rural Commodities, she reflected on a particular passage. That passage was detailed on the particular timing and setup needed in order to produce certain beverages. But her mind was fixated on one topic, accidental explosion.

By increasing the pressure to a dangerous degree, the heating burst into flame, spreading fire.

One problem, how was she going to pass by the raiders without getting noticed?

Her solution, she wasn’t.

Wearing a thick dress, tied down by a bronze disc chestplate, Vega was going to play the part of raider. She didn’t put on… any helmet or mask to obscure her face. Again, the best she could do was a sour imitation.

“Hello!”

“~Hey Atmi.~” The trio of drunkards waved to the scarecrow. Turning valves at random, Vega steps up an explosion ready to happen. The scarecrow now skipped out the room.

“Bye!”

“~Bye Atmi.~” The raiders waved the scarecrow goodbye, not noticing the hissing of the distillery.

Hopping down back into the holding cell, the people were happy to see Vega again. She took off her …disguise and hopped to the bars.

“Thank Recor. Can you please get us out now?” The woman politely asked, trying to be calm with the scarecrow. Vega saw it was an iron door with a lock.

“Can’t, I need a key.”

The woman pointed towards Vega’s pickaxe.

“Oh, right.” Vega said. With a quick strike, the lock broke and the people poured out.

“Where do we go now, spirit?”

“Don’t know.” Vega shrugged. “I didn’t think I’d get this far.” The captives were left aghast. Shouldn’t a spirit know a way out of this mess? Suddenly, a shaking took the Assembly, with dust and pebbles dropping from the ceiling.

“~Oh shit! Atmi burnt the alcohol again. Get the aqueduct running!~” A voice said from above. Similarly, the raiders outside the door scrambled towards the fire. Vega pressed her none existent ears to the door, cracked it open to see if the coast was clear.

“Ok. Go-go now!” She waved the captives forward, leading them to the entrance. Pushing it open, both the captives and Vega gazed upon a city in chaos.

Raiders were running about, being chased by mobs of unruly citizens. The Arena became an outpost for the revolting populace. Additionally, the rebels became an army armed with makeshift weapons and shields.

The prostitutes seemed to be conquering sections of the city.

“I hope ya guys had fun. I’m gonna go find my friends now. See ya!” Vega skipped away, just as the captives looked around in terror.

“This is a good day.” She spoke as the Assembly turned into a fire hazard.

The scarecrow cheered happily, knowing nothing about the pains of combat. Humming and dancing down into the courtyard, Vega took no notice of the people fighting. Drunk raiders were being pushed back by the sober revolters who organized shield walls to prevent injury.

The once mighty Tripolian archers were too inebriated to fire a single arrow to defend themselves. But the serpentine boss’s guard of archers took care of any remaining sober raiders, firing swiftly.

A few bright raiders used the alleyways of the city to their advantage, forcing the thousands of revolters into cramped spaces where their numbers could be managed. Despite this, many raiders were bested by the prostitutes driving them out.

Leaders stood out amongst them, one was particularly buff and round.

“Bolato, on your right!” Skaldi notified, throwing a knife to the chest of the raider, killing him near instantly.

“Thanks. Now, did you get that whistle I needed?” Bolato raised his tower shield in front of him, holding out his sword hand. Skaldi handed it to him and Bolato put it around his neck.

The helmet wore Skaldi sparked as an arrow ricocheted off.

“Damn it, that was too close!”

Upon seeing the attack Bolato twisted his neck to his subordinates.

“Everyone! Switch!” Bolato instructed, blowing fiercely into his whistle. The prostitutes swapped positions, with the frontline going back and the rear taking point. This maneuver caught the Tripolians off guard, even though it was a normal tactic employed by the Iozians to prevent fatigue.

“Push forward! We’re going to the Assembly! For Recor!” Bolato empowered the prostitutes, who now looked like soldiers of the Oligarchy rather than victims of it. Skaldi stood still for an instant, taking in all of the people standing up for righteousness.

Potenti marched by him, now strong as she recognized herself to be.

“Holy shit, is that the scarecrow?” A random revolter questioned.

“Goddamn.” Skaldi cursed to himself, slapping his face.

Vega gazed downward at the army from the tower she was in. The Assembly had several outer parts, including a courtyard and walls denying the captives exit. Also the captives took to following Vega.

“Can you please get us out of here?!”

“What? I already did, didn’t I?” The scarecrow was in disbelief, she thought she already completed her task.

“Well yes, but we still can’t get to our homes! There is still a gate and guards.” A spooked man told her. Vega stood up and looked outside. Roughly fifteen guards, and a furious priest cursing the two sleeping guards.

“What to do? What to do?” Vega grabbed the hand of a man and started to stroke her head with it. I assure you he was very alarmed at the occurrence.

“I got it! Kaliba!” The scarecrow called out into the city below.

“Idiot.” Kaliba chirped.

“Oh you’re already here. Can ya do the thing ya did before? Where ya carried me into the air and stuff?” She crouched down and held out her palm. Kaliba stretched out its wings and hummed in disappointment. Digging its feet into Vega’s arm, the mighty Kaliba flew them both into the air.

“I’ll be right back!” The captives groaned in greater disapproval. Now in the air, Vega took in her surroundings and noted the areas of the Assembly. Courtyard where the priest was shouting, the main gate leading outside, and the aqueduct pumping water in. Smoke that was coming out of the windows of the main building slowed down.

“Booze!” Kaliba croaked out. A cart of purifying alcohol still remained, right beside the guards of the main gate.

“Good idea! Take us there!” Lowering behind the cart, Vega and Kaliba crept close to the floor. Scavenging herself for supplies, Vega gripped onto a flash stick.

“This is the best-best plan ever.” With a little tinder, Vega set fire to the cart and flew back to the tower.

“~Hey, Jekitas, do you forget to shower again?~”

“~No? I just have a body odor that women love and men hate.~”

“~Huh. So why does it smell like burning beer?~” Both of the raiders turned to see the cart aflame. All of the guards took to firefiring, trying to prevent the fire spreading into the rest of the courtyard.

Vega swiftly escorted the captives to the gate as the raiders couldn’t pay attention to it. With the pull of a level, the gate opened and the captives bolted to their homes.

“Thank you… odd spirit!” A woman blessed Vega. The scarecrow was quite happy, and Kaliba was quite concerned.

“Idiot?”

“What do ya mean Kaliba-” Vega’s arm was on fire.

“Oh. This is fine.” Vega lied to herself. Within the second, the scarecrow’s panicking fear took hold, as she jumped into the nearest body of water, which was back in the courtyard of the Assembly.

“Ah. Now I’m not burning anymore.” Vega snuggled into courtyard water, happy as can be.

“~High Priest, we found the scarecrow!~” A raider yelled out.

“Oh nuts…”

A hundred drunk men strong force chased after Vega and Kaliba, as they both sprinted down into the city. Narrowly dodging spears and arrows, Vega’s bravery continued to plunge. Kaliba however, was taking a cozy seat on the scarecrow’s shoulder.

“Can ya fly me again?!”

“Booze.” Kaliba chirped, having drunk enough purifying alcohol to kill an elephant.

“Oh, nevermind.”

The frenzied charge behind her became quieter and quieter. Vega continued but after a while the noise of the raiders was none existent. Turning her head, she saw that the raiders formed a phalanx, equipping pikes and blocking the entryway into the Assembly.

“Hooray! Now I can-”

Vega tripped over a ledge and fell into a fast flowing aqueduct, carrying into the city’s water system.

“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-”

She was having a lot of fun.

“Switch!” Bolato urged, just as the Tripolians sent skirmishers, tossing spear after spear onto them. Their pace grinded to a halt since the raiders used the city’s many corners and passageways to ambush and pepper the prostitutes in bullets.

“Damn it, they’re dug in hard.” Bolato cursed. Skaldi upon hearing that, searched into his pack.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting an upper hand.” The elf pulls out a pot that has flowing blue smoke from it. He prepares to throw and backs up. Running forward and pelting it in an arch, the pot crashing into a building. Following this many of the soldiers cough and wheeze, collapsing onto their knees.

“The hell was that?” Bolato said, very much amazed with the elf’s performance.

“I can tell you what it’s not. An herbal remedy. Now, let’s tie these guys up and keep moving!” Skaldi urged the force to continue. With each minute was a city block claimed. As the prostitutes came closer and closer to the Assembly, the head priest became rather skittish.

“~Where the hell are the sacrifices? What happened?~” He demanded urgently, to find worthy bodies to throw at the advancing force.

“~We don’t know sir. Should we retreat?~” An officer asked, still firing arrows into the revolters.

“~Not all of us. They cannot get us, but they can take the lesser warriors. Let us move!~” The head priest motioned for him to leave, as the upper class soldiers took to their horses. As the priest hopped into a carriage, he pulled out an oddity.

A handaxe, belonging to a now deceased woodchopper. It glowed with a foul power, much like the spores of a mushroom cloud. He was holding a Soul Gem.

“~This Snake Skin shall hold them back.~”

Now at the gate, the prostitutes crossed the bridge, holding their shields high above their heads. Skaldi could see their lack of ammunition, just as they took to throwing rocks and planks instead.

“Keep moving. We’ve almost claimed the Assembly. Don’t let up.” Bolato raised his sword high to his comrades, following his every order.

Skaldi was quite proud at that moment, not for himself. Not because of his accomplishments, but of what he helped make. He loved Bolato, in the way that only married couples could. That I am bound to this person by love, and I better do that.

He saw Potenti great might as well, perhaps seeing a way out of his situation. So long as he tried hard enough, he could be strong and powerful. And maybe, he could believe that he had that strength too.

No matter how much pride filled his soul in that moment, he realized something.

He feels quite good when helping people.

“Watch out! Skaldi!” Bolato broke him out of his trance, just as a vicious shadow loomed over him.

Tenfold linen tied around a walking corpse, arrows and bullets sticking out like broken bones, and a skin a gross rotting peach. And eyes with the ‘S’ river.

The Snake Skin rammed into him, driving them both off the bridge and into the flowing water of the aqueduct. A faint weakness took Skaldi, in the form of a thought. Well, also in the form of a curse.

“..damn me!”