Chapter 6
“A moment, Master Coal,” Catherine said before they set off to follow the attackers. She was certain this would require stealth. She didn’t have time to put on armor or much equipment, but she could clean both of them off to eliminate smells that might betray their position. “Let me just do this. Prestidigitation!” she incanted.
A moment later all the dirt and ash was cleansed from her uniform. She quickly repeated the spell on Coal and then used it to scrub all scent of smoke and ash and living creatures from the both of them.
“You can use magic?” Coal asked, sounding impressed.
“Just the one spell. It is most useful for my usual duties as a maid, cleaning, preparing tea, serving, etc. My mother taught me a long time ago.” She hefted her maul. “Let us begin.”
Coal nodded and turned to the ground ahead of them. He led them around the manor to search out any tracks that could lead them to Maralee’s kidnapper. He found the trail in less than a minute and then checked to see there were no others. Satisfied, he set off following it.
Catherine briefly wondered to herself why she had such an easy time trusting the iruxi leading the way. Coal seemed to exude a gentle presence beneath a fearsome exterior. Someone who didn’t want to hurt people, yet was thrust into so many situations requiring it they had become skilled. That didn’t explain enough, of course. A creature this powerful did not happen by accident. She’d never even heard of a being who could kill with a look without using some manner of spell.
She drew in a gentle breath and sought the reassurance of her ancestral spirits. The shreds of spirits still flitted about Coal without alarm. A moments willpower and they would flow inside her, making her a channel for the Spirit Rage. Her father had called it that when he taught her how to wield their power. In that state, her strikes also imparted the rage of her spirits, harming living or undead with their channeled anger. Coal had taken such a blow and it had done nothing.
She had not seen a creature able to shrug off a perfect strike since her beloved Demas had lost his hand and retired to his home estate. She shook the distracting memories from her mind as Coal led the way before her. She had a granddaughter to rescue, the last living remnant of Demas. She could reminisce to herself later.
Coal moved with speed and grace belying his size. Ever step seemed so certain as he followed the trail. She saw they were now heading straight for the nearest town wall. The Sun was setting to their southwest, turning the sky over to zeir other half. They still had light for now, and Coal seemed intent on not wasting it, he was moving so swiftly.
To the walls and over them led the trail. Militia cleared the path for her, several calling to pray for good fortune or her safety. They were wary of Coal. She nodded to them all. She had known many since they were children. “Death be merciful,” she wished the wall guards, then followed Coal over the side and down twenty feet to the exterior.
She landed in a crouch and ran to catch up to the swift moving Coal. His confidence was reassuring, but she still hadn’t worked out why she trusted him so easily. She didn’t even know why he was helping her. No ordinary stranger, much less the beings this strong she had met before, helped rescue a child from the Order of Lust or their Grandmaester over a meal for a prisoner. It was suicide if the Grandmaester caught them. Only a Dragon-ranked adventurer could fight one of those beings.
“Coal, why are you helping me?” She shouldn’t have asked. She should have just- she couldn’t just stay silent. She had to ask. Perhaps he did not realize what lay ahead. “There is a Grandmaester on the battlefield. Grandmaesters kill normal warriors. Even Adult Dragons die against Grandmaesters. They are one of the Republic’s Three Great Powers. So why are you helping me?”
Coal didn’t stop tracking to answer. He was silent for perhaps a minute, still following a trail she couldn’t see. She wasn’t certain if he had even heard her until he turned and look her in the eye.
“You were crying, screaming her name in terror. Your home was burning, and you only thought of your granddaughter, right? I could feel the pain, the fear, in your voice. I have a daughter. She’s missing. Lost. I lost her, she lost me. I have to find her, but the pain in your voice, that fear, it’s like when I lost my wife. Men, evil men used bombs to kill at random. We were shopping in the market. The explosion killed her. Our daughter was four.”
Catherine put a hand to her mouth to bite down on slightly, lest she reply in haste. She hadn’t expected pure empathy to be his reasoning. She didn’t expect to learn he had a daughter to find. “Thank you. Thank you for helping me. I won’t forget this. When you seek out your daughter, I will help however I can,’ she promised.
“My daughter would be disappointed in me if I didn’t help,” he replied with a dry laugh. “She’s the one person I can never be allowed to disappoint.” He stopped, holding out a hand and motioning low. She crouched and hid behind him, as he too crouched low behind cover. “Something is close, the tracks are met with others here. We’re near to their camp.”
She drew in a breath to steel her nerves. The spirits grew excited, sensing battle might be near. “How many?”
“Maybe one. I don’t think they’re still nearby. I… come on, this way,” He commanded, and without thought her legs moved to obey. They slid silently into the midst of what seemed to her to be just more woods. Then she saw it. Spots swept clear of leaves, a few places where shuffling footsteps had broken grass or trampled the undergrowth of the forest and last the scent of undeath. The lingering stink.
“The undead…” she felt a shiver of anticipation run through her as the spirits, the shades of her ancestors, gathered in a frenzy of agitation about her. “What numbers?” she asked.
“Many. They split into two groups here- no, into more than that.” He pointed at the ground, indicating the footsteps he was reading to interpret their movements. The linger stink probably helped as well. “Half the undead went directly towards the eastern walls. The other half though, those went north. A few hobs went with those, but most of the hobs went towards the town with the other undead. I think a couple of hobs went east as well. I don’t see the tracks of a child anywhere. I still have the trail of her kidnapper. He’s heading back to the town with the bigger group.”
“Then we will pursue,” she growled.
“As my lady commands,” Coal offered. He gave something like a smile. A very human gesture for an iruxi. She smiled in kind. She could trust him. “This way, if it pleases you,” he gestured, moving forward on the trail.
“It does please me,” she replied, following apace. They moved off together into the deep brush of the forest, swift and quiet.
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“Where is it? Where where where is the damned lizard? You said it was in town! Suppresa? No, don’t answer, I know!” Corvik paced beneath the cover of trees, unseen by the people guarding the town walls. He would sweep their paltry defense aside shortly. He simply didn’t care to yet. “Send in the skeletons!” he whispered. A test first.
His servants rushed to obey, three of them sliding off into shadows as soldiers on the walls looked out anxiously. Should he even call those soldiers? They were just fools. Living a life of comfort, growing soft, too far from the border to suffer like this, right? Idiots. Not that his own were much better. His father was the fattest hob he knew. Pathetic.
Which is why I killed him.
“Now Tasagis, where did you see it?”
“It was near the Manor earlier, before the soldiers started guarding the walls. I haven’t seen it since. There was an elf with it,” one of his soldiers replied.
“Good, good. Let’s see how they handle the skeletons then,” he said with a broad snear. He stepped out of the woods, into full view. “Send them in!” Let the fools on the wall get sight of me. Let them taste a measure of terror at my presence as the undead assault them.
There was a space about twenty paces wide circling the road, which itself sat about twenty paces from the wall, making a total of fifty paces from woods to wall. The first skeletons stepped out of the woods holding large wooden shields. Five small groups of hobgoblins gave orders along the ranks.
Skeleton archers stepped up behind the shields. Though the bows should surely have rotted away long since, they were in good condition. The skeletons began to fire upon the city from the edge of the woods.
“Cowards!” a voice called out from the walls, speaking the trade tongue. “I know how to handle cowards!”
Vials flew out from the walls. They smashed atop the shields of the skeletons, blasting a liquid out across several skeletons. Anywhere the liquid touched, smoke rose. Some of the vials splashed out fire, which burned on contact and continued burning, bringing light to the area of the skeletons. Where smoke rose without fire, skeletons collapsed. Bones cracked amidst the flames.
Soldiers hiding beneath the crude wood merlons fired crossbows at exposed skeletons. Another group leapt down from the wall. The leader of the five dashed forward at the front, encased in plate armor. The knight attacked a knot of skeletons with two swords, smashing or cutting them apart. As soon as they’d destroyed the shields defending the skeletons, the group retreated to the walls under the cover of a second round of crossbow bolts. The skeleton archers fired at them, and one of the five fell dead. The other four climbed ladders to return to the walltop.
"Bold one, she is," mused Corvik with a grim chuckle. His eyes continued to study the battle. "Tell me, how is it they have so many alchemy bombs? I gave orders to sabotage those, did I not?"
"You absolutely did my maester, you did. Those orders were followed! We used the bombs to start all those fires! Both the bombs in the house, the armory, all throughout the town! I do not know what we missed, but I must beg your mercy that these escaped us…"
"No, if you obeyed what was ordered I have nothing to forgive. These bombs… they are acting like they have many, yet I wonder, perhaps one of the knights knows how to create them and brought their own stock. They will not be the standard sort the legion carries. Those are with the legion, which we have blocked. Curse fate for blessing them, and if still we succeed I will have no cause for doling out pains," Corvik promised with a twisted grin.
Corvik waved his hand with three fingers to his soldiers. Shield bearing skeletons rushed the wall as cover for several groups of hobgoblins. The defenders threw a few vials to try and break the charge, but far too few to succeed.
They weren’t firing the crossbows as rapidly as he expected either. They were hiding a trick. Skeletons reached the wall and the hobs using them as cover threw up grappling hooks.
"Victory will be ours!" Cried one of the hobgoblins. "For our Lust is boundless!"
Hobgoblins gained the top of the wall. Five of them at first. Corvik grinned as he gained ground… soon the lizard would be drawn out and-
A hobgoblin tumbled off the wall, though Corvik saw no defenders near him. An arrow, not a bolt, protruded from the corpse as it crashed to the ground. “Tch.” The clever little bitch. She’d hidden archers behind the wall to surprise his troops when they gained the wall. She probably only had a handful then, or she’d have used them to hold the wall itself.
“Send Doxen’s team around the west side of the wall to flank them,” he ordered. “We will assault their reserves and slaughter them, which will break their morale.”
“Yes, Maester,” replied one of his soldiers who darted away to relay his command while the assault on the wall was pushed back.
“And keep the pink-haired bitch alive. I think she’d make an interesting prize to bring back home,” he added. Yes, the pink-haired commander had proven competent and he was always interested in testing the limits of competent enemies.
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Coal’s eyes could see the trail even when August knew his tracking skills shouldn’t have been up to the task. Somehow he was using the skills of the character in place of his own. August was a competent tracker and hobby hunter. Coal had been literally legendary in the game, both in terms of fame and skill ranks. August suspected all the character’s skills and abilities had carried over. It explained why attacks kept bouncing off his scales.
He was a level twenty character, and at least for him the world still worked a lot like the game. He would add twenty to essentially everything he did and against anything someone tried on him. He would resist or ignore attacks, magic, and more simply because his level was so much higher.
He could hear Catherine moving behind him. She seemed to be trying to be stealthy. Coal could pick her out without any trouble, as easily as Coal was picking up the trail for him. It was like having an extra brain, or something. It wasn’t conscious, it controlled nothing, yet it still worked for him.
He took a glance back in the fading light to take in the sight of her. She was beautiful. Not quite like the elves in the Jackson films, thinner and more ethereal. In other circumstances, he was certain he’d have been a tongue tied mess in front of her.
“Do you need something, Master Coal?” she asked.
“It was nothing, we’r-” he stopped speaking, head snapping forward to focus on a sound he’d picked up ahead of them. “Someone is coming our way,” he whispered, and ducked into some brush, crouching.
Catherine hid behind a tree to his left as he mentally tracked the subtle sounds of movement heading their way. He could hear several individuals making straight for them. They’d pass right next to Coal and Catherine, and he knew the pair of them could catch them by surprise. That meant killing them. Fuck, can I? I’ve done it before but I was ... He trailed off and shook his head. This wasn’t the time for doubt.
Catherine took the matter into her own hands. As the hobs moved past on the forest floor, Catherine leapt out of hiding and swung her hammer, making almost no sound as she brought it smashing down on the head of one of them, piledriving him into the ground in a single attack. She swung again, not hitting anyone as the enemy backed away for a moment.
“Damnit!” he cursed aloud as he leapt into the fray. He moved by instinct, lashing his tail out to smash a hobgoblin into a tree. He swung his left hand at another hobgoblin, raking the creature across the chest and drawing blood.
They’d started with five hobgoblins, but Catherine seemed to have killed her first target. He heard the sound of a hobgoblin in the trees above them. He snatched up the dead hob’s sword and decapitated the hob in front of him. The chest wound he’d inflicted still oozed as the body crumpled. The other two stepped up with spears and tried to stab him, but the spears simply slid off his scales without causing any harm.
He swung his new sword at the nearest hob and then kept swinging until it was dead. Catherine had killed the other by the time he was done. He looked up into the tree and leapt straight up. He grabbed the hobgoblin by the leg and pulled it from the tree. It tried to cling to the limb but the power of Coal simply outmatched it by too much.
He came down on his feet and slammed the hobgoblin into the hard earth by its leg. He heard a sharp crack as its skull hit the ground. It immediately stopped moving, lying limp in his grip.
He let go and turned away, trying to hold himself up as he felt his stomach heave. He’d just killed more creatures. God, it was so easy, just a few blows and they died. Visions of the explosion in the market played in his head again, mangled people all over.
“Coal?” Catherine called his name in concern, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just- it’s not important,” he lied, shaking his head. “A memory. Let’s go, we have someone to save.”
Coal had no time for his own foibles. This was reality now. He wasn’t human anymore. He had a daughter to save, a granddaughter to save, a town to aid. He had the power, he could use it, so he should. He should, so he had to. So he would.
He grabbed a second sword from the pile. None of them were especially impressive weapons, though one of them had runes. Runes, he was shocked to realize, he could understand. At least enough to know what it did. A simple potency rune, giving the weapon more impact. A hammer would have more force, a spear better penetration, and a sword sliced more efficiently.
He ignored the armor. None of it looked like it fit. The trail remained. “Coal,” Catherine called his name softly. “Coal, are you- no, alright. I hope we can talk after this over,” she told him, offering a smile.
Even in the darkness of the forest he had no trouble seeing her. He could only nod and focus his gaze on the trail once more. It’s no different from hunting. Just more up close and violent. Hunting. He could handle hunting.
His gaze sought refuge in the familiar sight of tracking his prey, following their footprints. Find my prey! He ordered himself. A beacon hovered in his vision the moment he thought the command. It was a bright glowing marker, like an arrow, pointing directly down ahead of him. He’d pictured this exact function the first time he’d read the ability. He was certain he knew this one. He’d waited months to pick this up, and he’d locked it in just before he had that dream.
“To the Ends of the Earth.” The arrow was like a heads up display in a first person shooter. He could see a marker of exactly where his prey was. Direction and distance were displayed next to the arrow. This was only available to twentieth level rangers who had maxed out their tracking abilities.
So long as he could select the target, such as by tracking them, he would know where the thing was every second. He couldn’t actually see it if it was beyond his line of sight, but he knew its exact direction and distance to the microinch. He couldn’t help himself, he started grinning as wide as his new mouth could. Everything had just gotten a good deal easier.
The sounds of the battle had filled the air for many minutes already. If the enemy hadn’t noticed this little battle, it was only because of din over there. Coal saw the arrow start to move, heading in the direction of the town wall.
“I have him, Catherine. Follow me!” he roared, and charged off. Now that he had his boots. Catherine no longer outpaced him as she had in town. In fact, she struggled to keep up as Coal raced ahead towards the hobgoblin who had taken Maralee.
Coal burst out of the treeline and the tableau of the battle spread itself out before him. Skeletons stood in loose ranks, most firing arrows at the wall, some with shields covering for hobgoblins attacking the townwall. A new group of hobgoblins stood on the opposite end of a line of skeletons and seemed about to run for the wall. No one had seen him yet.
Coal didn’t even pause as he dashed amidst the skeletons, aiming straight for his prey. The hobgoblin stood tall amidst the group about to rush the walls, hands holding a coil of rope and a grappling hook. Coal leapt as soon as he was perhaps half the distance from the hobgoblin. He soared over a dozen skeletons and several other hobs to come down directly atop his prey. His swords stabbed down, punching through and severing the tendons at its ankle and completely removing its ability to walk.
Cries went up, shouts of alarm, and hobgoblins and skeletons both died as Catherine tore through them behind him. He however, had eyes only for his prey. “Mine!!!!” he roared, snatching up the hobgoblin against the creature’s strenuous objections. Fists and claws did nothing to Coal as he turned, swinging a sword and cutting a hob with ease. Though the creature didn’t fall, it backed away in fear. Then Catherine hit it in the back and it fell.
Coal ran with his captive for the town’s wall. “Ser Franklin! We’re coming up!” he shouted. He threw the hobgoblin in his arms over the wall, then held out a hand to Catherine. “Grab on!” She ran towards him, but she stumbled halfway there and fell, a silver shortsword sticking out of her back. A hobgoblin melted out of shadow, literally appearing with the handle of the sword in its grip. It flourished a cloak of pure moonlight silver as it stood over her.
“Catherine!” Coal shouted in fear. An invisible enemy? Damnit! He rushed forward, stopping barely three feet away, as the creature pulled the blade out of Catherine’s back and held it to her throat.
“At last, our prey!” the hobgoblin cackled. “Finally, finally! It is you, indeed! The power, the way you ran through! It MUST be you!” he cackled. “At last at last at last! Now give me back Tasagis, you iruxi scum, and I will spare the she-elf.” The hob’s voice turned harsh and cold. His blade was held ready, and Coal wasn’t absolutely certain he could stop the bastard.
A growl ran through Coal’s throat. He looked the hobgoblin directly in the eye, intent on using his deadly gaze. Instead of collapsing dead, absolutely nothing happened to the hobgoblin. August blinked as his own understanding of the situation came roaring back, suddenly it was no longer Coal.
“Tch, idiot,” the hobgoblin cussed at him. “I will have you obey, and we’ll see just what you can do,” he murmured, and pulled something from a back pocket. He held forth a jet black shiny stone, perfectly round, which seemed to shine with an arrow that sucked in the lights of the torches and fires illuminating the battleground.
“I told you to obey, and you will!
The circle expanded out, and purple tendrils, miniature versions of the ones from his dream, manifested to reach out for him. August knew he couldn’t let them catch him again. He followed the instincts he’d gained from Coal. He felt heat well up from inside as a golden aura, visible to everyone in range, seemed to surround him. His black scales became glittering gold, even his boney spines turned a golden hue as he unleashed his strongest magic. He opened wide.
Golden flames roared out of his gaping maw, engulfing all before him except the woman crouched at his feet. In response Catherine, not nearly as down and out as anyone had thought, swung her hammer and slammed it into the outstretched hand of the hobgoblin diving out of the way of the flames. The unexpected blow threw him off balance and sent the stone whirling away. The purple tendrils and the black aura vanished.
In seconds the fire vanished, Coal’s scales returning to their normal black color as he shut his mouth. He’d burned everything in his path. He saw trees crash to the ground, there were burned corpses everywhere. To his immense surprise, there was also a single hobgoblin, still standing on ground burnt black.
“You, you,” the hob was burned, as clear as the dead blackened skin covering him in the firelight. He seemed shocked. Smoke and cinders rose from his body as he held a badly damaged arm in pain. “You dare?”
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He still had his sword in his bad hand. In an instant he’d switched hands and rushed Coal. The blade came whistling down, gleaming razor sharp, enchanted runes running the course of the blade. A sinister glow surrounded it. “YOU WILL BE MINE!” the hobgoblin screamed out, stabbing deep, deep…
August watched the blade in slow motion as it came down, slamming into his shoulder. He continued watching as it slid off his scales while he twisted aside. He should have been far too slow to dodge, yet the blade still couldn’t bite through the tough scales on Coal’s body. His level really did make all the difference.
The battle had come to a complete stop, all eyes on the failed attack. The hobgoblin staggered, seeming in awe and disbelief. “No, no! I am Corvik Colvras! I am the Grandmaester of Lust! You cannot defy me, defeat me!”
August ignored the maddened protests. His hand reached out and grabbed hold of the hob by the throat. “Now hear me!” he roared, realizing this was not a game, but the game was helping him win just the same. Coal’s strength was his strength. He would just have to be Coal… and he knew what Coal, what he, would do right now. What should be done. “I am Coal Glittersgold!” He roared with volume that surprised even himself, the sound reverberating through the forest, off the town walls, through every mortal present and perhaps some who were less mortal.
“This city is under my protection! You mean nothing to me, but you have hurt one of mine! For this you will pay!” He pulled the hobgoblin in close. “I always take what is owed me. I always find my prey.”
The hob scrambled with his one good hand against the grip on his throat, to no avail. Coal’s grip held him strong, unflinching. “I- ahm… I… can- win…” he gasped out.
“Save Grandmaester Colvras!” A female voice ordered frantically.
“Defend your town!” Franklin called out. Clashing sounds echoed around them as people scrambled into action. Coal’s gaze remained fixed on his target. Nothing was going to divert him. He was going to see this thing dead before it hurt anyone else.
“Mara! We still haven’t found Mara!” Catherine, desperate and in pain, broke into his concentration. “Wait! We need to find Mara, she wasn’t here! She wasn’t here! Where’s my Mara?” Catherine demanded, a hand reaching out to grab hold of Coal’s hand and pry it from the hob.
Mara, the girl they came for. He’d charged into battle after the hobgoblin he was certain had taken her. They had the hob responsible on the wall, but Mara wasn’t in this battle. He was choking to death the man who led all these forces. The man who could take them to Mara.
His grip released and the hob stumbled back a single step. A mob of hobgoblins and skeletons charged into the charred opening he’d created in the surroundings. The skeletons attacked Coal, doing no harm but assuredly crowding his path, while a hobgoblin aimed a spear at Catherine. A purple skinned elf woman grabbed Corvik and interposed herself between Coal and the hob while still more of them attempted to tackle and grapple Coal.
Coal sheltered Catherine with his body, interposing himself and deflecting the spear thrust. In doing so, it caught an angle on his scales, letting it slide in and stab him. He hissed in the first real taste of pain since his arrival. He knew even a twentieth level character had limits. Mob one with enough numbers and someone was bound to succeed eventually. “We’re leaving!” he called to Catherine, scooping the elven woman up despite her objections and dashing for the wall. A face appeared atop the wall as several objects were hurled from atop it and exploded amongst the crowd.
“My friend! Up, quickly!” a familiar voice called. Sun Shining on Leaves appeared atop the wall, hurling a vial of something while a rope was lowered at the exact point of the wall over which he stood. “I have come to aid you!”
“Thank you!” Coal shouted. “Catherine, can you climb?” he asked her.
“I, I do not know. I cannot feel my legs…” she replied, offering a smile filled with pain. Coal reached the rope, grabbed it, and in a flurry of movement had tied Catherine to the rope.
Then he began to climb. “Haul!” he called up. “Haul!”
The rope jerked in response as the pair of them moved upward. Coal’s eyes scanned the battlefield, neck craning backwards to keep an eye on their situation. The hobgoblins had pulled back. They had fallen to fighting against the skeletons, which had apparently started running amok instead of… whatever it was they had been doing when he arrived.
Catherine, still sheltered by Coal, cleared the top of the wall. Coal pulled out a potion the moment his back was shielded by the wall of the town, and he crouched down. “Drink this,” he commanded Catherine. It was one of the strongest healing potions he had. “Please.”
She nodded, accepting the bottle and slowly drinking down the red colored liquid inside. “What is that?” Franklin asked, stepping up to them while keeping an eye upon the field below the wall. Her armor was dinged and a bandage wrapped her shoulder where the armor was removed. Blood also leaked from her head.
“A health potion,” August replied, danger passed and no longer relying on the reflexes and instincts of Coal. “Why?”
“The ones I know are a dark brown… and they taste awful…” she replied, frowning. “I’ve never seen a pure red one,” she elaborated. “Did you make it?”
He paused for a moment, then nodded his head. Coal had made most of his own potions at various moments of downtime in the campaign. Not all, but most. “I can make alchemical items as well,” he explained, watching as Catherine finished drinking the potion.
She wiggled her foot and slowly stood up. “I… wow. I do not… I can move! Thank you!” she exclaimed, leaping forward and hugging him tightly, smiling broadly. He felt his scales go rigid and his spine stiffen in pleased surprise, before he relaxed into the tight gripped hug.
“Franklin! Coming again, ware and prepare!” shouted a voice from down the line. Vials flew over the wall as everyone ducked for cover. They exploded, fire and acid flying around the battlements.
“Mercia!” Franklin called out in a panic.
“We’re alright!” a new voice cut in. That black skinned woman who had been riding with Franklin and the two cat women stood next to one of them, shield in hand as she defended her companion.
“Colvras Donos Lustos!” a gaggle of voices called, and some twenty hobgoblins all leaped atop the wall at the same time, their ascent unnoticed as the explosions had forced everyone to duck. “Bastis valag gros nagwen forx, iruxi nag nogbo!” one of them commanded, pointing at a shortsword at Coal.
The hobs swarmed the thinned ranks of the defenders, stabbing and hacking. The pair of women, wearing high quality plate armor, fought back, standing back to back.
“Damn them!” Franklin cursed, drawing two short swords and charging off to attack the nearest group. She slashed with both blades, downing a spear wielding hobgoblin as he snapped a spear up to intercept her far too late.
Coal felt the spines on his back rise and snapped around to slash a hobgoblin wielding a familiar looking sword. This fucker has my sword! His own stroke caused the hob to reel, then collapse bleeding from the massive cut in his gut. Coal’s sword fell to the ground. Coal ignored it for the moment, slashing at a second hobgoblin whose head went flying off. This one wore Coal’s armor awkwardly. His other sword was held in its dead grip.
“Idiots tried to use my weapons,” he murmured, snatching them up. He was just happy to have them returned, mind still blanking out the implications of the pair of deaths he’d just dealt out. He needed to get his armor on again, and the swords felt supremely right in his hands. He was surprised for a moment, he’d never actually wielded either before.
Catherine battled another hob, smashing it with her hammer, which she had somehow held onto this whole time. Coal, having snatched up his swords, turned to join the battle on the wall, slashing and bullying his way through the hobgoblins one by one. His armor he left on the corpse.
Their numbers quickly diminished once Coal and Catherine joined the battle, and the remaining five made a desperate last stand atop the wall. They had surrounded the two female knights, but when they saw Coal, Franklin, and Catherine running down the wall towards them and their companions dead, they abandoned caution. “Grif! Grif!” one of them motioned. He wore heavy armor and wielded a large club and a shield. It seemed he outmatched the two knights entirely by his lonesome..
The other four turned and leapt off the wall as he covered their escape. As he turned to run, the catfolk leapt upon his back, claws slicing at his neck. Though for a moment August’s own inferior instincts expected her to succeed, Coal saw differently, memory stirring of what the unholy symbols on the hobgoblin armor surely meant. “Don’t!” he roared, but either she did not hear, did not realize he meant her, or did not know. Perhaps it was simply too late. She slashed, and a sinister glow surrounded the hob as he leapt.
The glow seemed to slash like a blade at the catfolk, slicing through her in numerous new places as her already wounded body tumbled to the ground writhing in agony. She let loose a scream of anguish and fell still even as the three of them reached her.
“Mercia! Mercia!” the two knights called her name frantically, shaking her. Ser Ooomori checked for a pulse as Franklin crashed to her knees in panic.
“No, please! Marta trusted me! Marta trusted me!” she pleaded, shaking at the cat woman’s shoulders.
Coal refused to avert his gaze. Hers was not the only corpse on the wall. Some thirty folk from the town lay dead or writhing in pain, and nearly twenty hobgoblins were slain atop the town’s wall alone.
He drew in a breath, and pulled out a potion. “Try this. If there’s even a spark of life, this will save her,” he promised. It was another of his strongest potions. Though his supply was limited, he felt as if now was not the time to be stingy. He pulled out several weak ones and turned to start administering them to anyone else who looked too near death for conventional options to save. Coal’s knowledge seemed able to pick out which was which.
Franklin took the potion immediately and poured it into the catf- Mercia’s mouth. No change occurred, and she lay still upon the battlement. “No… damn the lot of them! Gods curse them to despair and fear!” She screamed and cursed to no effect.
“I am- I’m sorry. This is my fault. They came here for- well, I should have done more.” He stopped short of telling her what they were here for. Surely that had been made clear during their interrogation of the other captive? If not, now wasn’t the moment to remind the knight. She barely seemed to hear him.
“Ser Starr?” a gruff, but nervous, voice cut in. It was another knight, a man, Maglin. Coal had witnessed him arrive to help while they were about to interrogate their prisoner. “Ser Starr, I regret interrupting, but you must take command of what remains of the field. With the mayor dead and Ser Yearga still absent, you are the ranking officer. You…”
“I know…” Franklin replied, raw pain in her voice, dripping through like falling rain. Ser Franklin, August corrected himself. However odd it was as a woman’s name, she deserved the use of her title from him. “Maglin, gather the wounded. Anyone with medical skills, tend ta the living, save what lives we can. Coal! Master Glittersgold… could I beg a favor of you? Stand the wall and turn back anyone foolish enough ta still attack it. Miss Merelidia, if I might, your new prisoner is at the base of da wall. Maybe he knows something of use to us, if he lives. We torched shut the wounds, tried to stop the bleeding, but he lost much blood. No idea if he still breaths. I must organize everything else here. I cannot see to him myself, but if he knows aught about the hobgoblin in the armor, I wish ta know.”
Coal nodded. “I will, for now, but I haven’t fulfilled my promise to Catherine. There’s still a lot to do.”
“I understand.” Ser Franklin’s head hung low for a moment, eyes shut as she knelt over the body of Mercia. Then she opened her reddened eyes and stood up straight, face set in a determined scowl. “Alright you pack of soldiers! Wounded off the wall! The dead after, out of the way! Get this blood cleaned up” Tears stained her eyes in the flickering torchlight but she moved forward, throwing out commands. She left a single squad of soldiers watching the walls with Coal while she commanded everything else. The fires in the town still burned, but Coal could see they no longer spread.
“Are you certain you’re ready to run an interrogation?” he asked Catherine, who was feeling at her back where the stab wound should have been. She looked up, a mixture of fear and anger clouding her face, before she swallowed. Fear and rage were replaced by determination and even gratitude.
“I am. I will,” she promised, bowing slightly to him. Caol wasn’t sure how to respond to the bow.
“We’ll leave once we know more and the town is no longer in need of us,” he promised. Then he glanced to the east. His arrow had moved. He must have unconsciously chosen that hobgoblin leader as his new prey. “Ser Franklin! Those hobs are… their leader is moving out! He’s left the town’s vicinity and is heading east. What’s over there?”
“That way lies the Maw! The tunnels your first prisoner mentioned,” she called back. “Might be he’s retreated, but those skeletons are sure to still be running around and there are bound to be more hobs hiding and watching the town!”
“Perhaps…” he muttered to himself. Insurgents who lost a fight, or simply lost their initial advantage, tended to run to ground rather than stick around. That however, had been in afghanistan where it was home territory. Here, those hobs were on enemy ground. There were apparently a bunch of real soldiers nearby who should be in town soon, and any numerical or quality advantage they had was vanishing, especially if their boss had run.
He climbed the wall, looking out over their surroundings. Coal’s eyes surveyed everything, but his sight was dependent on the lighting. It was simply too dark to see anything within the trees beyond the edge of the forest. Nothing could get to the wall without being seen, but so long as they had the trees for cover, even his eyes likely couldn’t spot them.
As he kept watch he noticed something odd. A soft glow was emanating from the ground near the site of his battle with the hob, the maester of lust. It was that same stone the hobgoblin had tried to use on him. A dangerous thing to leave lying around.
He leapt off the wall, landing on the grass below and striding forward, scanning his surroundings as he crept up. He drew out an item from his pack, something he’d held onto but didn’t usually wear. It caused too many problems.
He put on the blindfold and his surroundings snapped into stark black and white focus. Darkvision cut through the darkness. Coal didn’t have natural darkvision, but the item provided it. Now that he could see, he strode cautiously to the stone, crouching down to look at it. No purple tendrils reached out from it, but it still possessed a black aura that sucked in nearby light. He reached a claw out and picked it up, cautious of it doing anything strange.
The moment he picked it up the black aura vanished as if satisfied. The stone was attached to a chain, making it into a necklace. He put it in a belt pouch and turned to see the panicked gazes of the militia watching him.
All of them flinched as he gazed at them. Guessing the cause, he hurriedly removed the blindfold and ran back to the wall. He climbed it without a rope. “Sorry about that, saw something I had to check,” he murmured an apology, but the shaking men merely put on false smiles and nodded.
He turned and noticed he’d come up near the corpse that held his armor. The men hadn’t gotten to it to clear it away yet. He stripped it off the corpse quickly, but he’d need help to put it on.
He could tell the soldiers would be no help, they were scared of him. He’d just have to wait for Catherine. “All is well, calm down and return to uh, post,” he ordered, and they jumped to obey, seeming to calm slightly once they were no longer in his immediate vicinity. Bloody blindfold, I always forget to be careful when I wear it, he cursed it, and himself.
He’d picked it up specifically to imitate the dragon’s “Frightful Presence” ability, the power to automatically scare the weak willed in their vicinity. He had so much trouble with it, however, he almost never wore the blindfold if he could help it. It even worked on his allies, he couldn’t pick targets.
August found himself virtually alone atop the wall, even though the squad of soldiers hadn’t actually left. There was a wide radius around him into which none of the guards would step. He hung his head a little and went back to keeping his watch as his mind drifted to burning questions he’d been ignoring for hours.
This wasn’t earth. He remembered falling towards a cube shaped world, and he had to assume that was where he was now. He didn’t know the nation, the politics, the people, but the world did seem to be underpinned by the game rules. Well, He was still underpinned by the game rules, but he wasn’t sure how much those rules affected everyone independent of him.
This whole situation… he was in another world. At the least, he believed his daughter was here too. He didn’t know how this was possible, but he’d run across a handful of stories like this thanks to Laila. She loved anime, and a popular concept in anime was apparently “To be trapped in another world,” or something to that extent. Like Narnia, yet with a very different set of story beats and themes to it. What had she called them? “Tropes,” he muttered aloud, a smile covering his face. “That’s right. Same general idea, different tropes. People in the anime versions usually don’t go home again.” He wondered which he was in. He had absolutely no clues as to how it was possible he was here, much less how to get home.
Coal, however, apparently did, as memories of information August shouldn’t have possessed once again filled his mind. A ritual spell of the highest complexity and difficulty would have to be used. There are no spells even of tenth level that could do this, so only a powerful ritual independent of a caster’s level, using perhaps ten or more spellcasters… That was right, Coal had the arcana skill to accompany his sorcerer abilities, so the wyrmblood had a fairly comprehensive understanding of magic in game.
He wasn’t sure how knowing this helped right now, but he was determined to remember it for later. He stared out, and for once he looked up. He blinked. Despite the glow of the torches and the fires behind him, he could see so much of the sky. It was just like the camping trips with Laila… she always loved the night sky, untouched by the lights of a city. She’d love this sky. Five moons were visible in the night, each of different sizes and phases.
“The stars are beautiful tonight.” Catherine stepped up next to him, leaning upon the battlements and looking up at the night sky. “Do you like them?”
“Yes, I do. My daughter would adore them. Hopefully, she’s doing so right now,” he added wistfully. Laila should be ok. She might be fifteen, but he remembered the dream. Laila’s mind, but just like him not in her own body. Instead, she’d been inside Cumuloregalis, her druid. A powerful twentieth level character just like him. She had to be fine.
“I understand…” she spoke wistfully. “Coal, would you explain what you couldn’t before? The mystery that surrounds you- I believe you want to help, I believe you aren’t my enemy. Yet, I’ve never seen nor heard of “Wyrmblood” before, and though I believe your claim, especially-”
“After the fire breath?” he offered, smiling a little as he focused on her.
“Yes. It was magnificent. Powerful. Incredible even. I’ve never witnessed something so powerful in all my life. It is a miracle the whole forest wasn’t set ablaze. Which is precisely the issue. Such power, I’ve never heard of anything like it in my life. I got the sense it’s stronger than even the magic of the legendary Magi of my homeland.”
“So where did I come from? Why am I not aligned with the iruxi, as everyone assumes me to be when they first see me? How can I be this powerful, and yet no one has ever heard of me before?” She nodded, staring up at him.
“I,” he looked around the battlements. He looked below on both sides. It was just him, and Catherine. “I’m, I'm not from your world. I’m not from this world at all. I don’t know it, I haven’t even been here a full day I think. At least, I haven’t been awake a full day yet. My name isn’t exactly Coal Glittersgold, either. Well… that’s the name attached to this body. This body belongs to Coal Glittersgold-”
“Did you,”she paused to consider her words. “Perhaps steal it from him?” she asked, looking confused.
He shook his head. “No. Coal Glittersgold isn’t real. He’s just, he's someone I made up, for a game I was playing with my daughter and our friends. He was an adventurer, a warrior, a ranger, a tracker of legendary skill, a hero who would save the world, or at least part of it. He wasn’t real. There is no real magic in my world, not anymore. If ever there was, it has all vanished, hidden or dead. I remember though, a dream. I stood before an abyss, as though I stood within the realm of dreams and to take even one step more was to leave it, to forever drift beyond the edge of that space. Suddenly a light appeared, just like the light from that stone, the one held by Corvik. This was so much larger though. I fought against it, broke free… my daughter was there, I remember her clearly. I remember saving her from its grasp, seeing a world, this one I guess, spread out below us. Then an explosion. We were separated. I… My name, my real name, is August Zekes. I’m not a legendary hero or a warrior. I’m just a civil engineer and a father with a daughter I have to find.”
There was silence between them. Catherine stared up at the stars, thinking, contemplating. He wondered what she thought, but did not ask. He felt mesmerized. She was beautiful. A real elf, it was a thought he hadn’t had time to process. Her long bushy hair framed a slim pale face, while beautiful green eyes reflected torchlight as she gazed at the stars. Those ears, she just wasn't human, but so tantalizingly close. She was gorgeous.
Catherine finally looked at him, only to find him admiring her. A blush crept over her face, and she cleared her throat. August just smiled, or tried to. "Thank you for listening," he added as a way to cut the quiet awkwardness.
"I should thank you. There is, I believe great trust must be required to share such a tale, especially with a virtual stranger," she said cautiously.
"Maybe I lied?" was his reply, to offer- he wasn't sure what. Something, because she suddenly seemed too tense as she spoke.
"No, you did not. I, I know how the world works, my own at least, and clearly a little better than you. If you wanted to lie to me, Coal, I wouldn't know. You are powerful. You did not lie though. I am no truth sage, I would never know you were lying, rather, I could feel your hearttorn honesty. I too know the anguish of uncertainty, of being torn from our loved ones…" she trailed off for a moment taking in a deep breath. "August. I should call you August, in private at the least. Let that be our secret then. And this too. I am a spirit user."
August paused, trying to parse his memory for what that could mean, yet even Coal seemed unaware. "Don't know that one, do you? I shouldn't be surprised. It is an elven term, translated into the tongue of men. The meaning is simple: my power comes from borrowing the energy and will of the dead. Not as a necromancer does, to make moving corpses, to fuel great magic of death, decay, of endings and debilitations, yet similar. I can see the remnants of my ancestors, those with regrets, grudges, unfulfilled dreams. Their remnants remain trapped in the material world, and linger around their living relations. I can tap into them, taking them within me and gaining transcendent power, becoming a spirit rager," she explained kindly, wistfully. She seemed happy to be able to share.
She held up her hands, as if touching something he couldn't see. "It is the only way they can affect our world, by finding someone to channel them willingly. They are too weak to force the issue. Even so, such a thing is sacrilege to elves. In my homeland it is considered a monstrous deed which traps their souls, preventing their rest. When such souls are found, they are to be purified and sent to the embrace of the Lady of Graves, death Herself, and then to stand trial before her other self, The Lord of Judgement."
August nodded quietly. He was following better than he'd expected to. "My family have followed these practices for a long time in secret. We used this power to cleanse evil spirits and undead from the world as adherents to the Lady. I still worship her in private… but my nation learned of it. My father was executed. I and my mother were banished to the human realm."
August reached out a hand, hesitant. Catherine smiled as she took it, placing it on her shoulder. "Such soft scales. I didn't know they could feel soft and comforting."
"My wife, we were only married a short time. Our cultures were very different. She was hated by some of her own people because she married me, an outsider. I, I understand how difficult some of that must have been for you. I can empathize with the rest." He knew some of her pain, even more than he'd first thought.
"Thank you, but that past does not truly haunt me. It simply is. Mother did whatever she had to do to survive until I was old enough to fend for myself. When I reached my majority by the customs of elves, she took her own life. I was left lost and alone. I wandered, hurt then but not now. I eventually stumbled upon Maralee's Grandfather." A smile was on her face at the memory. "My Lord Demas was a good man in his own fashion. Bombastic, loud, eager, always rushing about, but so kind. He was considerate and nervous around girls. I didn't ever expect him to want me, but by the time he did I was already in love with him."
"He gave you a place to belong," August guessed, listening and thinking. "A home."
She nodded. "I pledged to serve him, to be his maul, his weapon and his servant, body, mind and soul. We were happy. At least until he lost his hand. We were rising stars amongst the questers, famed for our courage. We still completed the task, but it was his sword hand. His strong hand. He couldn’t continue such a life, and a full replacement was beyond us. That was when I learned the pieces of himself he never talked about. I never asked before."
"He was married, wasn’t he?" August guessed again. It seemed to be the only explanation for why she was not treated as the lady of the manor, and instead seemed a maid. "He was married, and you were or soon would be pregnant, or something like that?"
"Something like that. The lady was not barren, it was worse than a barren womb. Six times she carried his child. Six times, the child arrived still, unbreathing, long past any hope of rescue. Prayers, rituals, sacrifices, everything failed. I know something of her pain. I carried two more children, born just as still and lifeless.” She fell silent a moment, hauling back the torrent of old emotions to continue her tail.
“My lord, my love… there was no other choice. He adopted our daughter as his heir, always with the hope his wife would provide a child, I believe. It never happened, and so long as it did not, my place at his side was secure. I had sworn to be his, so I accepted the need for our daughter to no longer be mine. I still love her. I still love him… I miss him… I miss them both..." tears stained her face now, but she did not hide them. "Demas was the first love of my life, and a good man and lord. Indeed, here in Stalar unfaithfulness is not unusual. Having me around, mother of his heir and still in his house, was cause for news only because I was an elf. I was still happy, no matter the strange circumstances. Until he died." She was shaking, clutching to August’s hand. "My daughter had just been married and given birth. It had barely been a year since the wedding, six months since Mara was born. No one would help. Bandits lay in wait for the only cleric who came to try, he never made it. My son-in-law believed it was the work of his father. He loved my daughter, loved Mara, but he was weak. Jasper came then, slowly drove away all the good men who served my Demas. When Catarina died five years ago…"
"Jasper used Mara to threaten you, didn't he? You said it was not you who was hurt." Coal didn’t look, yet it felt as if Catherine tensed up slightly next to him.
"I... it wasn't only me. So long as we all played our parts, so long as Jasper and Archon Venales could control our little crossroads town, we were safe. Mostly. Now it's all gone and there's only Mara."
"I promised you we'd find her. Even now, I can still track the hobgoblin who led this raid. If anyone knows where she is, it will be him. Did the other tell you anything useful?"
"A little. He was much less… eager than Maladictus was… You have a frightening effect on everything. Truly. I myself felt fear when you were interrogating the hobgoblin woman. I cannot mimic your impact, your effect. Still. They are being lead by their Grandmaester…” she shuddered. “I can scarcely believe I survived… without you I know all would be dead or captives, especially myself and Ser Franklin…”
August blinked. “Is… he really so strong?”
Catherine nodded. “The Order of Lust is known for their prowess in kidnapping people. Their master is known for his ability to outright enslave people just by meeting them. No one knows how, since he’s apparently not a magic wielder himself. I… but you don’t even know what it means to have a Grandmaester here, do you?”
“I can guess a few things, but no, I don’t actually know.” He could infer. It sounded important and if he was the master of Lust, “I take it there are seven of them? One for each sin?”
Catherine took a breath and nodded. She was shaking now, and had to take another breath. “Even remembering I lived through such an encounter is more than I’ve ever dealt with.”
“Are they… I suppose they are that strong, even my firebreath didn’t kill him, so he can’t be weak,” August allowed. That had been a max level focus spell, the strongest damage spell he could use, and while it didn’t stack up with the magic Laila could use, it was just powerful in general.
“There are seven sins… and six virtues. I don’t know anything else about the virtues, they’re almost never seen and I’m just a maid, such information is not required of me. Even when my lord and I were questing together, there wasn’t much information about the virtues. The sins, however, I know something of. Lust specialize in acquiring people to feed the slave markets and industries of the republic. You know what a slave is, right?” she teased him weakly, trying to regain control of her own emotions.
“Of course,” he replied, elbowing her lightly in retaliation. She let out a giggle and seemed to relax. “Good. It’s a horrid practice, but even our own dear Silvitas-Stalar has its dark spots… There's also Wrath and Pride, who specialize in battlefield combat. Pride can more than match a full legion, while Wrath is supposed to be more suited to hit and run, not that they can’t stand in the field… Greed are said to be thieves, and Envy assassins. Sloth is filled with strong magic wielders, and Gluttony are responsible for logistics. I can recall little else of importance at this time. Corvik Colvras…” she shuddered. “This is the first time I’ve ever known the name of one of the seven Grandmaesters.”
“I think I must be a lot more important than I thought. This was no mere raid, we faced a full blitz. If they truly dispatched a grandmaester, the republic must really want us, my daughter and I. Which means if they’re as smart as they should be, they’ve probably figured out we were after Mara. She’s safe because they’ll use her as bait.” It wasn’t a conclusion he was pleased with but it gave Catherine hope.
“Excuse me, Master Coal!” a voice called out from below. The knight, Franklin, had returned to the wall. She didn’t look good. Her armor was still stained with blood and several rents, bandages still covered her, and in the flickering torchlight Coal’s eyes could make out the tear stains and the puffy redness of her eyes, like flames themselves. She ascended the stairs as the pair of them turned to look her way. “I…” she stopped short, drawing in a deep breath and trying to still herself. Then she got on hands and knees and bowed her head to him. August jumped back in surprise, almost knocking Catherine over. “Please! I need your help! I beg you, please!”
Two more women came running up. One of them August didn’t recognize. She was white haired, pale of skin, lightly armored and wearing some manner of robes over her armor. “Ser Starr! Please, raise your head!” she begged, falling to her knees. Her red eyes stared up at him in wonder.
“Franklin, love,” the other woman, Anna, he believed, whispered morosely before joining Franklin on the ground, head bowed.
“Not the both of you! Magic thrice cursed this day!” the third woman groaned, then despondently joined them, head pressed to the ground. “I alone should be on my knees,” she whispered to Franklin. “The fault is mine!”
“What has gotten int-” he started, but Catherine reached up and placed a hand before his jaw to silence him. He turned to look at her, and she shook her head, admonishing him.
“You are an outsider, you do not know, but for a knight, any knight, to cast away their pride, much less all three, to beg a favor from anyone- If you have honor, Coal Glittersgold, acknowledge and hear their plea. Nothing else,” she instructed, voice low and soft, sweet and tinged with awe.
He had to take a moment, to collect himself. He didn’t know quite what to make of all this, it had caught him by surprise for sure, and he’d already had so many. “I- very well then. I will listen. Now please, raise your heads,” he instructed, crouching down so his neck did not have to crain downward so far.
“Yes,” Franklin answered, and all three woman took a kneeling posture, hands on their knees. “I, Ser Franklin Starr, have come to beg a favor on my knees from the great warrior, Coal Glittersgold. I know you already plan to pursue the attackers. I must beg permission to join you. I have no right to, bu-”
“My commander, Ser Marta Yearga, was captured amidst battle,” cut in the third woman. “I, Ser Agritus Aquitaine, confess my failures. My actions too, I was as a snail bringing the cohort to battle when a cheetah was called for. This is the cost of my incompetence alone. I allowed my commander to be overwhelmed and captured, along with two other knights, seven legionnaires, and four camp followers. The blame is on me, and so I too must beg to accompany you.” She had piercing red eyes as she stared up at him. “I pledge to personally pay whatever price is required to make up for this failing, so please.”
Coal gazed upon them in shock, eyes wide as he took all this in. Inside, August reeled as well, unused to this. He was a failure as a soldier, and now he was being begged for help as though he were the greatest warrior a- oh God in heaven above, he was. He was the greatest warrior around, wasn’t he? All three women were on their knees, and all of them looked resolute. They were asking for his help in apparently the humblest manner they knew. Hell, this was much more humble than he’d expect of any woman back home.
I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t want this! I just wanted to raise my daughter in peace… it was just a game… and now… now those with power must bear the weight. I’m the one with power, so I must bear the weight. Right? Damnit. My burden now to bear, for good or ill.
He sucked in a deep breath to collect himself, before he gave voice to his reply. “I accept, Ser Franklin. I will take you and Ser Agritus, along with Catherine. Oh, and one more. We haven’t time to spare. I know where their leader is, but the longer we wait the more time they have.”
“Yes, My Lord!” all three women chimed in response, surging to their feet, saluting him, and turning to prepare.
“Wait, all three of you!” He called out. He pulled out oils and potions from his bag of holding. “Take these. The red ones are for your wounds, the black are for your armor. Mending oils to instantly fix any broken object. It would be best to approach this at full strength, we don’t know what the enemy is capable of.”
“Thank you!” Agritus replied, eyes widening in surprise as she carefully examined the bottle before opening it and consuming it. Her armor wasn’t damaged, but her face was cut and she too had bandages in various places. Franklin drank without comment, and though Anna’s shield was damaged, she herself seemed no worse for wear somehow.
Franklin poured the oil on her armor, and watched in amazement as it mended before her eyes. The sight brought the ghost of a smile to August, baring his large teeth and his horns and spines actually glowed for a moment as his body revealed his good humor.
He did not notice it, and simply turned his gaze towards his enemy. “There are a few preparations to make. How much time do you need to prepare?” he asked Franklin.
“A few minutes, no more.”
“Yes. They’re not moving as quickly as I can. I need a few minutes myself,” he explained. An idea had occurred to him. He wanted to head in a straight line, and the easiest way to do that was to fly, but his followers couldn’t fly. He’d simply have to fix it so they could.