The Bathrobe Knight

by Charles Dean

  This time, as he walked through the room of Black-Wings, the illusion of superiority was nowhere to be seen. Their faces had none of the smug confidence that he had grown to hate on Wilhelm's face as, meeting after meeting, he droned on about how the Kingdom should be run and how a King should handle problems. How he would handle things once he became King. Qasin knew what he had meant, but all of that was gone. This time the only thing he could see on the whiter than normal faces of the vampires was fear. Even the succubi and incubi squirmed in their chairs, their usual lustful command of a room gone beneath their timid shaking.

  This . . . this is actually rather pleasant, he thought, walking through the room and sitting at the empty chair at the head of the table. He knew it wasn’t the chair he was supposed to sit in. A common negotiation tactic used among Black-Wings was to have the head Councilman show up late and sit in the prominent chair after they seated you in a lesser side position. He had just walked in and taken the seat unhindered or slowed by the protests of those who were supposed to seat him. He looked at their faces, knowing their shame as they said nothing. Fear. Who would have known how much more useful it was than respect? he thought, laughing on the inside as their oldest Dragon-Wing arrived late only to see his chair already occupied.

  “King Qasin, we are honored that you have accepted our invitation for a meeting,” the tardy Dragon-Wing said, taking the seat that had been meant for the guest. “It is our hope that this meeting may help us put aside our differences and understand one another better such that we both may benefit.”

  So now that it is your people dying, we should talk and get to know each other? When my people are dying, it’s just tough luck and we’re just better than you, right? the King thought, gritting his teeth. He had to force himself to relax so that the Council of Fools he was addressing wouldn’t have a heart attack.

  “We’ve come to realize that the relationship between our two peoples has reached an all-time low, and we want to know how we can bring back the peaceful understanding we had for so long,” the Dragon-Wing awkwardly continued after the King ignored his greeting.

  The King had seen the meeting going a hundred different ways in his head before he opened the doors to the room and sat down, but now that he was here, all strategy abandoned him. All the preplanning, logic, and reason that he was going to use to convince them to surrender was gone. It’s unnecessary, he thought, letting his actions and words be pulled by the hunger that grew inside him. I will not dance for cowards again. “Peaceful understanding? Surely you can elaborate.”

  The Dragon-Wing gulped. “You see, we haven’t had a war or ba--” he began, stopping only as he saw the King pull out a Sword and lay it on the table. He gulped again.

  Lie to me. Do it. I dare you. I know your kind can’t resist. I know how you politicians are.

  “You . . . you see . . .” the Dragon-Wing tried to continue, visibly shaking as he stuttered, his eyes never leaving the Sword. “You see we have . . . always been at peace until recent events.”

  “Recent events? Enlighten me.” The King stood up and grabbed hold of the Sword. This is just like with Wilhelm. These people, these Black-Wings, they aren’t bad, they’re just plagued with Councilmen.

  “Well, that is, we umm . . .”

  “No, go ahead. Tell me which recent events you mean.” The King began to walk around the long square table to the Councilman on the other side.

  “We, um, have reports that, you have been attacking our people, sir. By yourself,” he said.

  “And, was there nothing before that?” the King said, each step shrinking the distance between himself and the councilman Dragon-Wing on the other side of the table.

  “No, of course not, our people would ne--” the Dragon-Wing was cut short as the King closed the fifteen foot distance in an instant. Only the crunching sound of splitting wood and bones ran through the room with a gust of wind that followed, letting everyone know that something had just happened. No one had caught what it was. No one in the room had seen anything more than a flash as the King lunged and split the Dragon-Wing in two.

  Everyone at the table froze. They wanted to say something. Run. Call for help, but their fear had petrified them where they sat. Even the Guards at the doors didn’t move.

  “Now, who can tell me where our hostilities began without lying?” the King said, kicking the split chair and mangled body to the floor. “I mean, you’re welcome to lie again, but . . . I’ll have to kill you for offending me. Oh, and who can clean up this rather unsightly mess? ”

  The silence persisted for almost two minutes until finally one of the Incubi sitting at one of the least important chairs of the table stood up and shouted; “We took part in the attack on your people near Valcrest!” as if he were declaring his love for a girl in a romantic comedy before quickly lowering his head and closing his eyes tight.

  “Good. Now that we understand what brought us here, we can be honest. What do you plan on offering me for this peace you want?” the King said, causing the Incubus to relax and open his eyes.

  “Sir, I mean, King Qasin, my name is Karnis. While I can’t speak for everyone, I can promise to give you everything that is mine if you will but let me tell our story before you shed more blood here. Please, Your Majesty,” the same Incubus spoke, the others now all just staring at the empty place where the Dragon-Wing had been sitting.

  How could a story be so important that this boy would give up everything he owned just to tell it? the King wondered, deciding to humor the brave young fiend and listen to his story. “Very well, explain yourself, and we’ll talk about terms from there.”

  The King walked across the room and sat back down in his chair as Karnis told his story. Most of it the King had known. He had known about the plotting to take over his throne with the council. He had known about the troop movements with the White-Horns. He had even grasped the relationship, tenuous at best, but an allegiance none the less, that the Black-Wings had built with the White-Horns recently. Most of the story he had known, but the King hadn’t known why, what the impetus had been for moving so quickly and at the cost of so many lives had been: the Sun God Emperor. The Black-Wings and White-Horns had each managed to capture one of their Scouts. They had managed to interrogate the Scout and discover the imminent invasion. That’s when they had approached the Human Council and discussed the need for a unified front, but the Council had talked about a tit for tat arrangement.

  “So this whole dispute was started by the Council? And this Sun God Empire, you’re worried about this Kingdom attacking you?” the King said, having heard Karnis’ entire story.

  “Yes, King Qasin,” Karnis answered, and the rest of the Council generally nodded their agreement.

  “Good, but you will understand why I can’t simply forgive you just because you didn’t come up with the idea yourself, right?” the King pressed.

  “Yes. I understand, and that is why we are willing to give whatever it takes if you will please cease the hostilities and send us aid to deal with this threat.”

  The King let the whole notion sink in as he slouched back in his chair and relaxed. They really are desperate, aren’t they? How terrible a threat is this Sun God Empire?

  “Well, gentlemen, be at ease. I will consider the conflict resolved and have my troops ready as soon as the White-Horn threat has been dealt with,” the King finally spoke.

  “Thank you, King Qasin, but how much are you asking for in return for your aid?” a new voice spoke, one of the succubi sitting close to him.

  “Cost you? Why, nothing at all. A King can’t be expected to charge his vassals any more than standard taxes in return for their protection,” the King said with a chuckle.

  A murmur broke out in the room. They had obviously not been expecting this, but they needed the help so no one spoke out immediately to counter the King’s statement.

  “Look,” the King continued, “you either accept my help and that you are now my subjects, or I murder you all here an
d wage war with your Kingdom until you break. It’s up to you, but the real question is whether or not your pride is worth the lives of you and your people? You have until I leave this room to decide.”

  The murmuring stopped. An uneasy silence crept over the room and every member of the table was frantically exchanging worried glances. Ah, that fear. It’s here again, the King thought, enjoying the sensation. He hadn’t planned on doing it like this, but somehow he knew it was the right thing to do. If it failed, he could just kill them all and negotiate with whomever stepped up next--a fact they clearly all knew.

  After the silence had lingered for a few minutes, the King decided he had waited long enough and stood up. As soon as he did so, they all panicked, and Karnis stood up too and spoke again, “Wait!”

  “Yes?” he asked, as if he didn’t know what was about to be said.

  “I . . . I think we can all agree to those terms, Your Majesty,” Karnis said, looking around for any dissenting voices.

  “So, we’re all agreed then?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said, taking a knee.

  “Good, I’ll have a messenger meet with you all to work out the details on taxes and defense. In the mean time, I have some White-Horns to visit,” the King said, walking out the door. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he left. There was a certain pleasure the negotiations had brought him that he just couldn’t put his finger on.

  The fear. It must have been their fear, he thought, closing the doors to the terrible chapter of bad Council meetings that had plagued his political career.

  Darwin:

  As Darwin pulled his Sword from one of the giant Beetle-Bees on his route, he couldn’t help but wonder, How much emotion was this thing given? Did the game designer give it feelings enough to suffer as I killed it? He looked over at Kass only to see her face smiling at him as she cast one final spell at the encampment. Do these questions even cross her mind? he thought, already knowing the answer. No. Of course not, why should they?

  He looked around the encampment to find there were no mobs left. Between his own efforts at the start, the two Turtle-Wolves he had brought with him and Kass, most of the fights that would have lasted a few minutes were often over in a few seconds. Kass had coated his and the Turtle-Wolves’ weapons with her ice spell to make the whole thing go even faster and look more beautiful. A fact that would have made Darwin happy if he weren’t too busy being consumed by his own thoughts about the feelings of the creatures he was killing.

  “You’re quieter than usual Darwin,” Kass finally interrupted as they walked.

  “Yeah, sorry about that,” he answered, not really knowing what to say.

  “It’s okay, but, you haven’t really told me where we are going,” Kass asked, twirling her Staff like it was a baton. “Are we going on a magical quest to rescue a princess?”

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve already rescued one helpless princess in distress; I don’t think I need to rescue another.”

  “Awwww . . . you think I’m a princess! It’s okay, Darwin, you can admit that I’m the most beautiful princess you’ve ever seen,” Kass said, arrogantly doing a twirl in her white Dress. Darwin was beginning to think that she was trying to copyright the move.

  “I was just trying to politely say you were helpless.”

  “Psh, whatever you say, old man. We both know you think I’m a beautiful princess,” Kass said, smiling.

  Is this flirting? Darwin thought for a minute before shaking off the idea. No, it can’t be. Why would I think that? I’m just an old man to her. Darwin had never actually experienced having this type of interaction for himself, or at least not that he could recall. Even though he was sure he had plenty of get togethers with people, he was having more and more difficulty remembering basic interactions he had shared with other people in his life before Tiqpa.

  “Earth to Darwin, are you there?” she said, nudging his shoulder with her Staff as they walked.

  “Yeah, sorry. Just been a pretty busy day,” he said, shaking his head clear of the thoughts.

  “I can imagine, Mr. Mayor, but you still didn’t answer my question. Where are we headed exactly?”

  “We’re headed to Menive Mountain. As good a fix as my situation has been for the townspeople, there is something else we need to get inside the Grennich Dungeon on Menive Mountain.”

  “Why? What’s in there?” she pressed.

  “Something I must absolutely obtain.” Darwin decided not to answer her question properly. He knew what she was asking, but for some reason he enjoyed withholding the knowledge from her.

  “Hmph, I see how it is,” she said, already onto his game. “Be that way. I’ll just have to find out when we get there.”

  “Yes, yes, you will. Anyways, I brought you along because we will be going through some hard trials and hopefully getting some good levels and loot,” he answered, slightly disappointed the little game he was playing with her didn’t drag on any further.

  “Oh yeah, loot, is that sword a drop from the boss monster we fought last time?” she asked, admiring his Burriza’s Blade.

  “This? Yeah. It’s pretty cool, isn’t it?” Darwin answered, swinging it a few times for show. “It’s a shame his respawn didn’t drop a second blade.”

  “The boss respawned and didn’t drop anything?”

  “Yeah. Kind of odd. I guess you can’t get loot drops from the same boss twice.”

  “Ugh! I need to be there to kill it once. I want a cool weapon too,” she complained. Yes, this was the Kass he had gotten used to partying with.

  “Well, it respawns at least once every 24 hours. We can hang around and have some BBQ while we wait for it one day if you want.”

  “Sure, sounds great,” she said, holding her Staff in a cool pose.

  I wonder how great this game would be to experience as a player, Darwin thought, wishing he could share in her excitement. It must be amazing to come to a world like this where you can be anything or do anything, even magic, without any real repercussions. He envied her laid-back attitude somewhat. This game would be a blast to be a player. How come he had never heard of it before he got here? Had he been that wrapped up in his own little MMO?

  As they continued northwest through the forest and into the mountains, Darwin saw something amazing. A level five Black Bear. It was only four feet tall, not that big, and the level meant it really wasn’t a threat. Will it grow up to be a giant Bear like Burriza was? Darwin began to think. Burriza hadn’t been as high a level as the other Turtle-Wolves, but he had been significantly more deadly. As he was thinking, he noticed Kass was about to cast and kill it.

  “NO!” he instinctively shouted as he jumped between her and the bear. “Don’t kill it,” he said, not sure what was possessing him to stop her. Then he grinned as he realized why he had done it.

  Kass looked at him confused. She mistook his intervention for kindness. This isn’t kindness . . . it’s cruelty, Darwin thought, stabbing the Black Bear through the heart with his Burriza’s Blade. You would have just granted it death, but the fate I have planned for it is probably much worse, he thought, activating his Racial Ability, Demonic Command, and reviving the Black Bear.

  Please name your monster.

  Darwin was trying to think of a name for his new, little, cute and cuddly Zombie Bear, deciding that perhaps ZomBear wasn’t appropriate, when Kass interrupted him.

  “Darwin, what the hell? Did you . . . did you just murder that Bear . . . and bring it back to life?”

  “Yeah, pretty cool, huh?” Darwin was very happy with his own Racial talent.

  “But, how? I’ve been wondering about it since I first found out you made the Ogres and Turtle-Wolves, but it doesn’t make sense. Aren’t you a fighter-type Class? I always see you fighting with your Axes and Spoons. I just assumed you were a fighter. You’re not a Mage, are you? If you are, you’re one really weird Mage,” she said, her face still frozen in confusion. Her eyes darted from the bear to Darwin and then back to t
he bear again, but her face didn’t move at all.

  Darwin was about to tell her it was a Racial Ability when something made him stop. If I tell her about my Racial Ability, we’ll have to get into a discussion about my Race. That’s too many questions that I don’t want to have to deal with right now, Darwin thought, deciding that it was better to avoid raising too many red flags about his Race and existence in the world. “Actually, you might not know this, but I still need to come up with a name for this little guy,” he said, ignoring her question altogether as he patted his new Zombie Bear. “Do you have any ideas?”

  Kass stared at him for a good minute. She was clearly deciding whether or not she wanted to pursue questioning him about how his ability worked or if she just wanted to drop it and help him name his new pet. “It . . . let me think a minute,” she finally said to Darwin’s relief.

  “I was thinking ZomBear,” Darwin told her honestly while she contemplating.

  “What? ZomBear? No, you can’t name it that. What about Pedobear?”

  “Ewww . . . no one likes a Pedobear. Why would you try to name him that?”

  “I don’t know. He’s a Bear, and with those red eyes he is kind of creepy. ‘Bear’ plus ‘creepy’ tends to yield a Pedobear,” Kass said, laughing.

  “Yeah, no, let’s try again. I like the little guy. I may ride him around the world one day. I can’t go around riding a Pedobear.” He joined in Kass’ laugh.

  “Why not? Is it because you’re too old? Is there an age limit when riding Pedobears?”

  Darwin wanted to respond, but he couldn’t think of any clever comeback, so he let the subject go.

  “How about Fuzzy Wuzzy? He may be a bit creepy, but he’s also super cute! And fuzzy!” Kass said, joining Darwin by the Bear and petting him too.