Openings

by Thomas Davidsmeier

  The lodge was a beautiful structure made from the braided boughs of living trees. There were no sharp edges to be seen, yet the lodge was still stately and imposing. Tree trunks had become living pillars woven into the fabric of the building itself. Olivia was most impressed with the solidity of the walls. Despite the building materials, she could not see inside at all.

  Cato explain solemnly, "Elvish sides have beautiful, costly buildings. Unlike other sides, we must pay Mana as a part of construction."

  Olivia was a little shocked when the leaves and branches seemed to swirl open all on their own, and an elf in muddy boots and a travel stained cloak emerged.

  “Lord Falnolfin.” Cato acknowledged the elf with a deep bow.

  Surprised by the noblemen’s rough dress, Olivia echoed Cato’s greeting and curtsied. She had been expecting some one is a fancy outfit, lacy and frills and such.

  “Be quick. I have a haunch of venison awaiting at table. Fresh shot this morning.”

  Recovering herself and remembering Cato's advice and instruction, Olivia begain, “Thank you Lord Falnolfin. I am Olivia Jordan, a Level 2 Wizard new to the valley. To be direct, I believe I am an able and excellent candidate to become mayor of the village. To this end, I have come to seek your approval for this office.”

  “Why are you at this lowly baron’s doorstep? I own scarcely a third of the valley. Count Keranadon holds far more of this land than I.”

  “While that is true, Lord Falnolfin, you are the Honorable Sheriff of this valley, and that means that you’re charged with protecting and judging this valley’s elvish inhabitants. I believe that I can help you towards those ends, in the beginning, as the mayor of the village.”

  The elf was a handsome, middle-aged man with shoulder length blonde hair, very light blue eyes, and pointy ears. He was tall, imposing, and haughty, even in his rough country dress.

  He laughed at Olivia, and it made her feel very small indeed. But, his next words eased the blow.

  “In the beginning, the little lass says! I see there is some ambition beneath your fair facade. Very well. I will have my traveling secretary write a note to Constable Kerjad immediately.”

  ***

  Constable Kerjad was burly for an elf. His arms were muscular and graceful instead of slim and graceful. His legs were like oak boughs instead of willow. All that only added to his serious, almost dark attitude. “I should rather not take a little maiden with me on this task, let alone be at her beck and call as the Lord Sheriff says I must be.”

  A grim expression that approached a sneer, punctuated the constable’s words.

  As was his habit, Cato stood aloof behind Olivia, allowing her to be the leader of their little band of two. She constantly had to fight off the urge to look over her shoulder and check with her stoic tutor to see how he thought she should act.

  “Constable Kerjad, I completely understand. If I were a maiden seeking to be a warrior, I should quite completely agree with you. I don’t think I could even lift that cudgel you have at your belt.”

  Kerjad glanced briefly down at the iron ringed wooden club that hung on his belt. It was his favored weapon for certain personal reasons. That she had noticed it was a point in Olivia’s favor. That she had not disparaged it in favor of a sword or more typical weapon was another point toward her.

  “But,” continued the diminutive elven wizard, “I’m not going to prove my worth as a warrior. I am a wizard by trade, and hope to become mayor of this village since it has none at the moment.”

  Kerjad nodded. He was tired of filling in as mayor. He would have settled the disputes between merchants and workers with his cudgel if he could justify it. The Lord Sheriff would not approve. So, Kerjad was stuck listening to other elves in soft clothes babbling, or assessing the complaints of elves who considered a dirt clod a worthy opponent. No, a new mayor would suit this Constable quite right.

  “Fine enough, lass. But, are you ready to head to the east end of the valley and root out a nest of giant spiders with me? That’s what the silkworm growers need done, and they aren’t exactly up to the task themselves.”

  Cato snorted behind Olivia. Kerjad nodded to him.

  Olivia felt her skin start to crawl already. She detested spiders. Since her childhood, she had this fear and could not explain it. Now, it looked like she would have to overcome it if she wanted to advance in the Game and help the others back in the cafeteria on Earth.

  “Yes, sir, Constable Kerjad. I am up for that. My spells are at your service.”

  “No, Lady Olivia. I’m coming with you, not you with me. It is my cudgel that will be at your command, not your spells at mine.” He paused as if he wanted to add something but did not. Olivia guess he probably wanted to say, “Do you see why I am concerned?”

  “Very well then, Constable. I will lead you to the best of my ability.”

  She hoped he could not see her gulp.

  ***

  “Why are their gates closed? I thought you said they would welcome me with open arms here.” Emma’s gray face was puckered up like she was eating a lemon.

  Katrina pushed her pointed witch’s hat back on her head for a moment as she surveyed the situation. “No need to assume the worst. Perhaps they’ve had some elvish attacks lately, or a wondering monster or two.”

  “That doesn’t seem too likely to me, Kat.”

  “Shush, shush, shush! Out here, in front of others, I am Lady Katrina. Appearances are important for the little people.”

  “Right, sorry. I forgot you told me that.” Emma’s face was not relaxing any. They were supposed to be waltzing right into this village and charming the mayor into letting Emma take over. That was rather difficult to do with twelve inches of solid oak in the way.

  Emma and Katrina approached the gates with trepidation. Why were they closed in the middle of the day? It did not make a lot of sense.

  Two witches by themselves did not have enough fire power to deal with walls and guards. Their two best spell trees for attacking were Poison and Witch Blade. Those were both single target trees until Poison Cloud all the way up at Journeyman level. Witch Blade never gave an area of effect or multiple target attack. In addition, those spells cost health for witches to cast, and that would probably have them consuming some of their rather limited supply of potions.

  Emma tried the direct route. “We would like to come in and speak with the Mayor of the village.”

  An unseen guard shouted back, “He doesn’t want to talk to anybody.”

  Emma tried to sweet talk her way in, “I’m just a new witch with my teacher here looking for some supplies. We’d be ever so grateful if we could come in and do a little shopping.”

  That only got the following response. “Two witches? Aren’t you missing a third to make up yer group? You’ve got the Old Woman and the Matron, aren’t you missing the young, pretty one?”

  That resulted in howls of laughter from various spots on the village walls.

  Katrina spat out, “You better hope we’re not two of the Furies. Now, open the gates.”

  “Come on now,” came another guard’s voice. “I always loved that part in MacBeth. Don’t you want to do a bit of the scene for us? Maybe we’ll let you in if you do.”

  Emma was confused by that, not understanding the reference at all.

  Katrina knew what they meant. “How about this. Boil, boil, toil, and trouble, open the gate or we’ll curse all your limbs off your worthless bodies.”

  “Oooo, I’d like to see you try to do that before we filled you full of crossbow bolts.”

  “Come on, boys,” tried Emma, sliding her robe open a little to show her leg and pulling down the neckline subtly. “We’d be ever so thankful to you if you let us in. We’d be sure to show you our gratitude.” She shimmied her hips a little and tried to flounce.

  “Come back on Tuesday.”

  Utterly confused by the response to her attempts at seduction, Emma choked out, “What?!? Why?”

  “That’s
market day here when we buy and sell cows like you.”

  The roar of laughter drowned out the squeal of agony that came from Emma when she realized what they had said. She was body positive, no matter what they said. But, it still hurt.

  Grabbing Emma’s elbow and guiding her away from the gates, Katrina whispered in her ear.

  “This kind of insult is a call for strong action, my future Empress. I will not stand idly by while this disrespect is visited upon my beautiful sovereign to be. I am willing to use one of my treasures in your service. Let us go and seek the agent of your vengeance.”

  Emma was fighting off the blush and tears as she tried to understand what her witch mentor was saying. She barely managed to follow her away from the village and off into the forest.

  Chapter 14

  Christopher McKnight held his war hammer above his head for an extra second. Then, he held it there for another. Nathaniel’s suggestions from earlier, Olivia’s peaceful tendencies, Chris’s desire to have something to brag to Olivia about, and the pitiful state of the creature in front of him worked a strange alchemy in his chest. Beneath his steel breastplate, Chris’s heart melted a a little, softening more and more as the seconds ticked by. Finally, he slowly lowered his bloody weapon back to his side.

  Chris could not do it.

  He turned part of what the goblin had just said over and over in his mind. “I know I deserve to go back there.” The man inside the goblin body knew that he deserved to go to Hell. Chris could not send him back. Not yet. Maybe the other goblin-men had known too, but they had not acted the least bit repentant, what with trying to kill and eat him and all that. There was something different about this one.

  Sobbing, his head down, the goblin just seemed to be waiting for the inevitable. The man inside the goblin body seemed broken. Chris could not help but take pity on him. Yet, whoever he was, he was still an enemy. And, Chris reminded himself, he had eaten missionaries who had just come to help him.

  “If you surrender to me, you’ll be my prisoner. Do you understand?”

  “Yes... Yes... Oh, please, I did not want to eat the white men that came to my village. I wanted to listen to them again. But... But... I didn’t save them. I didn’t help them. I let the others kill them and eat them. Oh, my Maker, why did I have to be such a coward of an old man? I was a strong warrior when I was young. But, I became weak in my old age. I loved my life more than doing what was right.”

  Chris looked with amazement at the goblin-man. “Did those missionaries you ate tell you about Jesus back when they came to your village on Earth?”

  “Yes. He was the God-Man who died for us. Just like those missionaries died for us.” Tears were rolling down the goblin’s sunken, green cheeks. He kept babbling, “They could have fought with us, they could have struggled, but all they did was tell us about Jesus until the very end. They were brave. They were so much braver than I was. The others thought them fools. You heard what Akima said about them. But, I knew better, even then.”

  Fighting off the temptation to feel sympathy for a potentially dangerous adversary and already starting to worry that he had been too 'soft,' Chris commanded the goblin in a gruff voice. “Come here then. Put your hands behind your back.“

  Chris cut a small length of netting from one of the fishnets using one of the spearheads. He tied the goblin’s hands together behind his back. “Come on I’ve got someone over in the grass who will want to see you.” Chris thought to himself that maybe Nathaniel would talk him out of this craziness.

  Keeping the goblin in front of him, Chris marched his prisoner over to where Nathaniel was still hiding in the grass. With every step, Chris’s suspicion of the silent goblin grew. By the time they were off the bridge, it had hardened into distrust. Crocodile’s tears were all the paladin could think about. While he was not looking the creature in the eyes, his opinion had flipped. Now, Chris was almost certain it was all an act.

  The paladin’s squire was surprised to say the least. He had watched the battle holding his breath, waiting for his leader to signal for help. But, the battle had gone better than Nathaniel had expected. He looked at Chris questioningly.

  The paladin replied curtly, “Prisoner. He gave up.“

  “Are you sure we can trust him?“

  “Well, I did hear the goblins talking before I attacked. Seems like they were all islanders somewhere. And, they ate the first missionaries that came to them.“

  “Wait, really? How can we trust him?”

  “That’s what the net on his wrists is for. I figure we treat him like a prisoner of war.”

  The goblin was watching them speak back and forth. He had an uncomprehending look on his face. He began to speak up in goblin.

  “Tell him that I am sorry for what my village did to the missionaries.“ The goblin still had a sorrowful look on his face.

  Squinting a little as he tried to understand the strange creature’s language, Nathaniel asked, “What did he say?”

  “He’s babbling about the missionaries that came to his village again.“

  Concern filled Nathaniel‘s face. “He seems really upset about it. I wouldn’t think a cannibal would care so much.”

  Chris snorted derisively. “Yeah, the other ones seemed like they were proud of it.“

  The goblin turned towards Nathaniel. The creatures huge expressive eyes begged him to understand. In Goblin, the diminutive humanoid said slowly, “I should have loved the White God, not eaten his messengers.”

  Without sympathy, Chris chided the goblin with a single syllable. “Duh.”

  Frustrated with the language barrier, Nathaniel asked in exasperation, “Duh what? He doesn’t look like someone I’d be saying ‘duh,’ to, he’s really broken up.”

  Dismissing his squire’s concerns, Chris explained, “He’s regretting not loving God and eating God’s messengers. And of course he’s broken up, he just saw a bunch of his goblin buddies get whacked by me.”

  Glaring at his leader in disgust, Nathaniel spoke through gritted teeth. “Stop being such a jerk.”

  The young man’s look brought Chris up short. It was not anger or frustration, but moral revulsion. “What? What am I doing wrong? I’m not the one who ate people.”

  Nathaniel took a step toward the goblin, looking into his eyes. “This is a man. Or, he was one on Earth. He made terrible mistakes in his lifetime. He got one chance, one opportunity to hear about Jesus and forgiveness and salvation from Hell. And, he missed it. And, he knows it. Ask him if he wants to hear about Jesus and God right now.”

  Sputtering in shock, Chris managed to get out a stunned, “What?”

  Looking away from the still crying goblin and at the paladin, Nathaniel repeated himself. “Ask him if he wants to hear about Jesus and God and salvation right now.”

  Chris shook his head. “You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

  Grave eyes met Chris’s. Nathaniel stated firmly, “No. I’m not kidding.”

  Bending down a little to glare nose to nose at his squire, Chris raised his voice. “This guy ATE the last people to try to tell him about Jesus!”

  “All the more reason for someone else to try.”

  Chris threw his hands up in horror, disgust, and frustration. “Fine, what do you want me to say to him?”

  “Just ask him if he wants to hear about Jesus and God and salvation and all that stuff again.”

  “Can we at least do something productive while we have this ridiculous, pointless conversation with a cannibal?”

  “Sure, like what?”

  “Cleaning up the bodies. I bet our buddy here could help dispose of the bodies...” Chris paused, waiting for Nathaniel to laugh. All he got was a dark stare for his trouble. “Fine. Be that way. We should at least hide the bodies well off the path. Then, I want our prisoner to guide us to his village so we can take a look at it.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Nathaniel and Chris went to work lugging the bodies of the goblins off the bridge and
into the tall, grassy fen. They set Scout to guard the goblin. That is, if guarding is sitting and staring at something with your tongue hanging out of your mouth like a big goof. Chris tried to tell the dog, “If he tries to get away, stop him,” but the dog did not seem to become any more vigilant.

  As they bent over to pick up the first body, Nathaniel told Chris to ask the goblin what his name was, and then what he knew about God, Jesus, and all that kind of stuff. With a heavy sigh, Chris mechanically repeated the questions in Goblin.

  Excitedly, the goblin began to explain and just kept going. Chris finally stopped him. “I’m not going to remember anymore. Just a second.”

  Nathaniel and Chris went into the tall grass with the body as Chris explained.

  “He says his name is Ku after some islander god of war or something. I’m not sure he knows the difference between his Game name here and his Earth name or if it even is different for him. Anyway... Ooof, watch out for this deep spot right here. He says that for the first fifty years of his life, his village only knew about themselves, two other villages on their island and a couple of islands nearby. Then, some white guys in a sailing ship showed up and camped out on one of their beaches. He had stopped being a warrior by that time, so he figured he had nothing to lose. He went down the to beach empty-handed and listened to the missionaries. He liked what they had to say... Here, this is far enough. There’s a thick patch right there. On three...”

  After they had heaved the goblin body into the thick stand of leafy vegetation, they slogged their way back out to the path. Chris picked up where he left off.

  “But, he didn’t want to change from what he had grown up knowing. Then, his village’s shaman guy started making trouble. Our guy is pretty sure that the shaman was talking to demons from what he’s observed in the afterlife, but he just thought they were spirits at the time. The shaman got the younger warriors all stirred up against the white guys on the beach. Our buddy says he really should have said something then. Should have told everyone the shaman was crazy and the missionary guys were nice. But, he didn’t. So, our fellow went with a raiding party down to the beach. He held the extra throwing spears, but he didn’t fight. The younger warriors killed the missionaries, brought the bodies back to the village, and ate them.”