by Andrew Lynch
I could hear the gentle roar grow as more of the crowd gathered. They were good men. Loyal. But the coming task would be daunting to even the bravest heart. I knew they'd need inspiration to spur them into action, and that was something I could do. I didn’t understand why so many of the world’s problems fell to us, but they had stuck with me through the thick and the thin. A few kind words were the least I could do.
I looked at my axe, Sharfaas, hanging on the wall. The haft, ornate, curved, and spiked, was bound in dragon leather. The head was a gleaming metal with wicked teeth along the top edge. An aura of bitter cold surrounded it, snaking icy tendrils along the metal, spreading to the wooden panels behind it. I questioned whether or not to take it. It inspired respect because it was mine now, but it also inspired fear because of the Lich’s soul trapped inside with a will of its own. I took it in one hand and slung it over my shoulder. Just a glimpse would be all they needed.
I faced the door knowing what lay on the other side, and I used my ceremonial furs as a mask. When I wore them, I was who they needed me to be. I opened the door.
The chatter from the crowd slowly died out as they realised I was there. A murmur rippled through the lodge. Seeing them now gave me heart - maybe I hadn’t lost too many. There was dead silence as I stood in the doorway.
A single step forwards onto the platform, and they erupted in cheers as they saw I was recovered, whole again. I knew many of them had been shaken to see me so frail, but their faith in me returned with a religious vigour. They were seeing their champion renewed, and for now, I could be that champion.
They didn’t need to know my doubts. In fact, their cheers almost dispelled my doubts entirely.
Its job complete, I placed Sharfaas against the wall. Any more and it might change the reception from awe to fear. I approached the centre of the raised floor.
The crowd before me now were a tough lot. There was plenty of armour, and plenty of scars from where that armour had failed. Battered weapons for butcher’s work, and finely honed blades to slip silently between the ribs of an enemy.
I saw the last ales of men that wouldn’t return to experience such pleasures.
My friends and followers. All ages, races, and sexes. The people I needed to protect. The elation of the crowd died down as they waited for me to speak.
I let my mind go blank. They didn’t need the man with concerns and fears. They needed the hero, Moxar Lightshield. I began to speak.
‘I see a lot of familiar faces tonight!’ And the familiar faces cheered.
‘I see a lot of new faces tonight!’ And the new faces cheered.
‘I miss a lot of old faces tonight.’ It was how I started all of my gatherings in my lodge. It seemed appropriate.
‘Thank you all for assembling on such short notice. Knowing how far some of you had to travel, it’s almost like you had to know this was coming,’ I joked, to a gentle laugh from the crowd.
‘I wouldn’t be surprised either. Our task almost seems to be running to a schedule these days.’ A cough from the corner of the room, and the crowd looked its way. The man they looked at was in an alcove and I couldn’t quite see him, but after a moment, the crowd gave another small chuckle.
I left the jokes behind me now. ‘A messenger arrived one week ago. He arrived on the doorstep of this very building. He was bleeding badly, so I did what any man would do. I took him in. I nursed him back to health. I called upon the best healers to seal his slit throat. In return he revealed the litany of horror that led him to my doorstep.’
I paused, my throat dry from speaking and from the memory of that messenger. Someone had left an ale on a plinth next to me. Fortunate.
‘My good people, this messenger had been harried his entire way here. Beaten and cut, his adversaries had done everything in their power to stop him. For two months he had evaded all he could, but even for him it was not enough. There is no doubt that if he hadn’t made it to my door when he did, he would have died.
I stopped to collect my thoughts. I don’t know why, but it seemed appropriate to leave this pregnant pause. Maybe I was destined to be a storyteller.
‘This messenger was a Bolt.’
The crowd gasped at the revelation.
‘A messenger from God’s Hollow!’
I rested against the plinth, the weight of the implication settling on my shoulders now that I'd said it out loud. A messenger from the Gods to be brought so low? A Bolt, granted the protection of a God. It was unthinkable he could receive even a scratch, let alone be at Death’s door.
I found myself to be Death’s door all too often.
‘His message was simple. He was sent by God Life.’
The crowd began to shout in disbelief. ‘Calm, friends! Calm! No, God Life is not under threat.’ The crowd simmered down and continued to listen.
‘God Life sent one of God Mercy’s messengers, for God Mercy is missing.’
The crowd stayed silent, not knowing how to react to the possibilities of a God being missing from the gaze of God Life.
‘The Gods are busy with their own business, so have no time for this.’
The crowd muttered, knowing how fickle the Gods seemed when it came to mortal affairs. Even if it involved one of their own being missing.
‘The only clue the Gods could pass on to us is that there is an artifact in the snow cliffs that went missing at the same time as God Mercy. We know the mountain range where the cave is located.’
A few modest grunts of approval from the old faces. They knew that we’d started other quests with much less to go on.
‘The final word of caution came from God Pain. He is growing stronger from a surge in the Eastern regions, beyond the Empire. As always, balance must be kept!’
A surge of agreement ran through the crowd. They weren’t foolish enough to think that Pain should be removed from the Gods, but him growing stronger was bad for everyone.
‘Once more it falls to us, my friends.’ I knew they needed the purpose, the drive. I knew it fell to me. ‘Once more the task of safekeeping the world falls to so few.’
I allowed a solemn moment of silence, the knowledge that many might not return, and those that did would find it difficult to return to their ordinary lives.
‘But what a few we are!’
A few shouts of agreement.
‘Witches cower at our names! Sorcerers fall to their knees in our presence!’
‘Tell me, who was it that put an end to underwater tyranny in Seclips?’
‘Moxar!’ the crowd shouted as one.
‘No, friends! It was us!’
Cries of assent came in return.
‘Who defeated the city dragon, Kal’unth?’
‘Us?’ they shouted.
‘That’s right! We did it! And now we are to be the ones that defeat the Killer of Gods!’
‘Yeah!’ the crowd cheered.
‘I will see you all on the outskirts of his domain. We shall sweep forward as one, and crush any who stand between us and this Dark Lord!’
I couldn’t make out the specific words from the crowd, but the roar of approval was clear.
I waited for silence before continuing. ‘We will go to our separate tasks in the morning. I shall personally deal with the Old Snow mountain range. I wouldn’t put such peril upon any other.’
The crowd had returned to apprehensive silence. Nothing could be heard but the crackling of the great hearth fire as I drained my mug of ale.
‘So I ask you again!’ I roared, stoking them into a frenzy. ‘Who shall defeat the Killer of Gods?’
As one the crowd roared along with me, ‘Us!’
In the tradition of the lodge, I threw my now empty mug into the fire across the room. Everyone else cheered, jumped up, and followed suit.
With this, I turned, returned to my room, and readied myself for what lay ahead in the only way I knew how.
Rest.
* * * *
Lucian and his group sat back down. He felt he might
have strained too far with that final cheer. It had continued long after Moxar left, but that was the fervour such an inspiring presence could work everyone into.
The team patted themselves down. Inevitably they had thrown their drinks in the heat of the moment, not when the mugs were empty. Everyone else in the lodge went about their business - space by the hearth was at a premium for drying clothes.
Khleb was tenderly brushing shards of glass from his back. ‘I’m sure you did that on purpose, Elf.’
‘An error, nothing more,’ Jess said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
‘Yes, come on now, remaining coordinated during Moxar’s speeches is a challenge,’ Darrius said. ‘I soaked Gar here with the remains of my drink, and no hard feelings.’
‘True,’ Gar said.
‘I guess. Just seems convenient, doesn’t it?’
Lucian hadn’t figured out how to get Khleb and Jess to play nice with each other yet, and decided he needed to pay more attention to their interactions. Distracting people with shiny objects never failed!
‘Gar, I bought this for you,’ Lucian said, dragging the shield around for all to see. ‘A replacement for your buckler.’
Gar seemed puzzled. Then he drew the buckler from his back and said, ‘No need. See?’
Lucian did see. Gar had wrapped a few bits of twine, and what looked like bandages, around the largest bits of splintered wood and nails - Lucian wasn’t sure which had come out of that fight better, the buckler or the skeleton.
‘That certainly is a fine bit of repair work, no doubt.’ Lucian tried to sound convincing. ‘But this shield is brand new, and large enough for you to get your whole body behind. Crouching. At a squeeze. Well, they didn’t have anything larger.’
Gar looked at his battered, wooden buckler and then at the new, shiny, metal, wall shield.
‘Hmm... I try.’ Gar stood to try out his new shield. They were in a booth, so he picked up the table and moved it out of his way with no apparent effort.
He began practicing crouching behind it, and moved around the lodge challenging people to hit him.
‘Well, looks like there won’t be any rest for us tonight,’ Lucian said.
‘There rarely is on the night before the Quest begins,’ said Darrius, still cheery from the speech. ‘We need to get ahead on the trail and prime his first location.’
‘They say rest is the best preparation. We should insist on it next time,’ Khleb muttered.
‘You’ve had a month knowing this was coming,’ Jess pointed out.
‘More like a month to spend all my money.’
Jess turned her head away in disgust at this lack of professionalism.
‘Once the Lodgeman gives us our trail map, we'll figure out our plan, and head off as soon as possible.’ When no one spoke into the silence, Lucian felt the need to make small talk. ‘What did you think of the speech?’
‘Thoroughly rousing,’ Darrius said. ‘If I do say so myself. Really got me going. And the plot sounds good, could be one of the big ones.’
‘Do not believe the hype. Sometimes these Quests simply save the world and are never heard of again,’ Jess said.
‘I’ve had a few like that in the past,’ Lucian said. ‘But the Killer of Gods? That sounds impressive!’
‘The Company definitely seem to be pushing the God’s Hollow location recently, from what I hear,’ Darrius pointed out.
A crash came from across the room. They turned to see a barman sprawled out on the floor along with an enthusiastic shout from Gar. ‘Me like shield!’
Lucian decided to ignore the inevitable property damage, and hope they wouldn’t be blamed. The group returned guiltily to their conversation.
‘I’ve got to say, I was surprised Moxar mentioned the witches issue,’ Lucian said.
‘Been on the road a while, he probably doesn’t know the new policies,’ said Khleb. ‘The temples are always changing their minds. This month they've decided that being a witch is a mental health issue, and they're allowing amnesty to all witches that seek treatment - but next month? Probably straight back to placing bounties on them.’
‘The disgusting man is right. They change their mind more often than an Elvish artist.’ Jess allowed herself a small smirk, presumably at her own wit. It seemed to miss the target on everyone else.
‘And was it just me or did he... seem to know?’ Lucian asked the group.
‘No, no,’ Darrius said. ‘He simply couldn’t! I think. But, you’re right actually, it was a bit touch and go there.’
‘Mere coincidences, nothing more. He’s carefully monitored when in the capital.’ Jess was positive of this.
‘Is it so bad if he knows?’ Khleb asked. Before he and Jess started another argument, the Company Lodgeman came over.
‘Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed your commerce breaks! Is there a Khleb here?’ Khleb raised his hand. ‘Slight issue with your stipend, seems the accounts department don’t consider “scandaling” as a legitimate business.’
‘What?!’ Khleb shouted in genuine outrage. ‘How dare they? I’m adding value to the economy just like any other business!’
‘You’ll have to take it up with them, but they did say something about it being closer to abuse and misogyny.’
‘And after all the hard work I put in? Nearly threw my back out I worked so hard. Bloody outrage!’ Khleb got up and stormed out of sight. Lucian assumed it was to get a fresh ale.
‘A shame, but I’m sure he'll sort it out,’ the Lodgeman said with a smile. ‘Lucian?’
Lucian raised his hand and looked the Lodgeman over. A new group, a new lodge, so of course, a new Company Lodgeman. He wore the standard official uniform of the Company when on official business. White trousers, tight on the calves, loose on the thighs. Fitted white shirt, and a blue waistcoat with yellow fake shoulder pads. Lucian decided that “enthusiasm” was also part of the uniform.
‘Welcome to Moxar’s crew! Here’s your two assignments. The one Moxar set for you, so you know where he expects you to be, and the real one from us. You’re on the main trail as your group is used to the work. Also, Lord Orson wants to see you before you leave. Oh, and here’s your Company bag.’ The Lodgeman dumped a large bag on to the table. A sealed envelope and a brightly glowing crystal spilled out.
‘Oh, okay, that all sounds fine. Did he say what it’s about? And what’s all this in the bag?’
‘Not even a hint! And don’t worry, the assignment letter explains it all.’ The Lodgeman’s smile seemed glued to his face regardless of the conversation. ‘Any feedback on the speech?’
They all said it was very nice. Unfortunately Khleb returned at that very moment with his ale.
‘Great speech, but it seemed like he knew!’
‘Oh no, no, definitely didn’t, don’t worry about that. Everyone followed procedure and waited for my cue when they didn’t know what to do, so crisis averted! Well done everyone!’
‘Well why can’t he know? He’s not an idiot!’
‘Ahh. Well you all know the story of Selphina the Red?’ It seemed as though the Lodgeman used this story often. Everyone nodded, knowing it by heart as one of the best stories around.
‘The only person to almost bring down the Empire. The world’s greatest villain, requiring the cooperation of the three biggest Heroes of the time, yes? Well brace yourselves, because there’s more to it than the public story. Lord Orson himself gave me special permission to tell you more.’
They all nodded and waited impatiently. It wasn’t often the Company released inside information.
‘You know her real origin story?’
They agreed before realising that, actually, perhaps they didn’t.
‘Wait, wait, you’re not going to confirm the rumours, are you?’ Lucian asked eagerly.
The Lodgeman leaned in conspiratorially. ‘There were plenty of rumours when it came to her origin story. Early days for the Company, and we made the mistake of leaving it too long before giving our
official version. By that point the rumours had a life of their own.’
They all leaned forwards to listen intently. Even Khleb took his seat, a bit confused to have his question taken seriously.
‘Well, one of the lesser rumours actually had it correct. It turned out there was an internal leak on that one, and several people lost their heads.’
Lucian was sure that was meant metaphorically, of course. The Company had always been fair to him and had a good reputation. He absentmindedly rubbed his neck.
‘Selphina was an up and coming Hero, believe it or not.’ The Lodgeman found a stool and put one foot on it. ‘She’d been on a few Quests and started to gain a modest following. The Company was happy with the rate her popularity was growing, and felt she was ready for one of our spinners to work on her full time.’
The Lodgeman let out a sigh. ‘It was a poor choice from management. But they wanted to give a new spinner a chance - the idea being that they'd both hit the limelight using each other. Now of course the spinner knew the rules. Don’t let the Hero know that the Company is “helping” them with every decision so that we can merchandise their lives and deeds. He may have been new, but he wasn’t stupid!’
‘Now, as you know, usually the Heroes don’t actually mingle much with their followers.’ The Lodgeman pointed to the group hanging on his every word. ‘That’s you guys! However, this was a new, smaller lodge, and from what we can tell, the spinner ended up having one too many dragon blasters that night, and let everything slip.’
‘Ooph, that’s an expensive way to get drunk,’ Khleb said.
‘Comped by the Company, of course,’ the Lodgeman assured him. ‘Well, upon realising that everything she’d done for the past six years had been carefully orchestrated by shadowy figures behind the scenes, she had a bit of an identity crisis.’
The Lodgeman paused for a moment before hastily adding, ‘She didn’t go insane! Definitely not! There would have been serious health issues with future Heroes if she had gone mad. She simply took a... mild dislike to being controlled, and so went down a fundamentally misaligned moral path in relation to the Company.’
