by Charles Dean
“Aww . . . But Lee treasures your friendship too much!” Ling said. “Can’t you tell? He wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing bad beers with you. I’ll just help Amber out, and between the two of us, we should be more than able to handle this challenge.” She gave Lee a sly wink as she latched on to his other free arm before flashing Miller an innocent smile. “I would never want anything to come between such close friends.”
“Friendship isn’t as important as duty or honor. I must drink these beers in your place,” Miller insisted once more, finishing the sentence with a loud ‘hmph’ sound.
“If my beers are bad, I can’t have you drink them. Sorry, Miller, end of discussion. A man has to have a little pride in his work,” Lee finished, killing Miller’s last hope of getting out of his sobering predicament.
Miller about-faced much faster than Lee anticipated. “That’s . . . I admit I was wrong. I have erred in judgment and seek forgiveness. Please do not cut me off from the holy fountain of magical beer, the beautiful drink of Augustus.”
“Ah. Well, if you say it like that . . .” Lee left the sentence hanging with an unsaid-yet-understood ‘the answer is a maybe’ feeling.
“I do! You are very talented, amazing and incredible, and I was wrong to doubt you.” Miller’s continued piling on the praises one after the other, causing Lee to laugh as he watched his friend acting like a kid who had their video game privileges taken away.
“Alright, alright, fine.” Lee just shook his head. His friend was so easy to mess with that it almost wasn’t fun . . . almost. “It looks like we’re here anyway, so”--Lee turned around to his crew and put a finger over his mouth--“we all go quiet after this. No words need to be shared. What I’m going to need to happen is this: you guys”--Lee pointed at three of the archers one by one--“will follow up as our back up. I trust you’ve learned how to sneak around well enough, and your armor is the perfect shade for this vegetation.”
“Yes, sir,” they answered in unison.
“Your goal is simple. We’re going to be exchanging something with someone, not killing him, and you’re going to trail us by twenty feet. If you see someone sneaking up and about to spot us, you take him out quickly and silently. Don’t let a single one of them make a sound. We want our target to be absolutely unaware of our presence.”
“Yes, sir,” they once more consented in perfect harmony.
“Excellent. Now, Miller, I’m going to need you to do something equally important,” Lee said. “I’m going to need you to not kill our enemy the second he appears. I know that’s going to be rather difficult for you, but I have faith. What you’re going to do is restrain him to the best of your abilities. Get a hand over his mouth as soon as possible. Ling, you keep an arrow ready for his mouth if Miller fails. Amber, you assist Miller in the capture.”
“We aren’t killing our enemy?” Miller blinked. “How is that justice?”
“He’s not really our enemy. He’s our friend; he just doesn’t know it yet,” Lee responded, shrugging off Miller’s response. It was clear, even from Miller’s story, that he had a one-track mind with only one method of solving problems: violence. “He’s going to be how we will defeat that Herald and kill that goddess you hate, so show him the respect of leaving him alive.”
Miller’s eyes went wide, and his pupils dilated as Lee mentioned killing the goddess. “Are you sure that it can be done so quickly? I think we should be training, preparing for battle. If we grow stronger, victory will be assured. We need to harden our troops, double our efforts, build an army and march against his town.” Miller had a fire in his eyes that Lee hadn’t seen since they first set out to burn alive the guards that were holding the people of Satterfield captive.
“Yeah, it can be done. I will get you your vengeance,” Lee said resolutely. “I will get the people of Kirshtein their freedom and their lives back. Even the Firbolgs who don’t know they need rescuing too.”
“I don’t think the Firbolgs are the ones that need help. They seem to have a pretty good grasp on how to be evil there,” Amber added.
“No, they have a pretty good grasp on how to be afraid and controlled. They’re being danced like puppets, and if we don’t help them, they’ll never know happiness either,” Lee sighed. You just can’t treat another person like they do, and it not take a toll on you too.
“As long as the Herald dies, as long as the goddess dies, then the rest of the details don’t matter,” Miller said. “I want to rend that bastard in two. I want him to die a slow and painful death with her watching . . . with her suffering the way I have for all these years.”
Yup, definitely more on the vengeance than justice side of things. Lee thought it but didn’t say anything. “Well, just make sure we don’t kill this messenger and try not to injure him if you can help it. Pin him as quickly as you can.”
Miller nodded. “I can do that.”
“Alright then,” Lee finished, moving forward. “You’ve all got your orders. Let’s go. Follow me closely. I’ll lead the way.”
“Are you going to use Ethan to scout for us?” Amber asked in a whisper low enough that the three Paladin archers behind them couldn’t hear.
“Yeah. I’ve got two of them scouting as we speak, and I’m leaving one behind with the others just in case something happens so that we can get back to help them if there is an emergency,” Lee answered.
-----
Lee couldn’t help but both marvel and tremble at the size of the army’s camp once they were in sight. Tents were lined up in row after row with in such numbers that he couldn’t even begin to count them. He had no idea how soldiers and scouts could report accurate numbers of enemy troops with such easy. He may have been able to pick up ten, twenty or even a hundred at a glance, but this was in the thousands, and there was no way that he could even fathom the size of it, much less count it after a single look.
They made it around the outside of the camp unnoticed, which was a good thing. If a single enemy scout or spotter had gone missing, it would set the army on alert. That was a worst-case scenario. The last thing he wanted to deal with the enemy doubting their intel and being on guard. When they reached the gate that Lee assumed was the most likely one for the messenger to come through, he had his mice fan out and look for the messenger. It wasn’t sundown yet, so they still had plenty of time--time that Miller wanted to spend leveling--but Lee knew that this should take priority.
Lee spotted the messenger moments later, making his way toward him on a unique mount. He knew that both horses and other mounts existed in this world, but this was different from anything he had expected. It was a large, six-legged mammal with a wide rib cage and a naturally-hard, gray, bony exterior on top of its body that didn’t blend well with the brown fur that covered the rest of it. Its stubby head protruded forward like a turtle, and its neck was so large that it blended into its shoulders. Its six feet were strangely jointed, looked as if they had much more flexibility than most mammals and were capped with hooves.
There were two depressions in its armored, tortoise-shell-like back that functioned as seats, although only one was currently occupied. The rear seat was empty except for a set of bags.
The thing was moving so fast that Lee was afraid he might not have a chance to properly intercept it, but before he could give an order to Ling or the archers that they would need to take it down, his thoughts and plans were interrupted by a large status window.
Your mastery of Sneak has progressed from the rank of Journeyman Level 1 to the rank of Journeyman Level 2. This skill improves one’s ability to stay hidden, move silently and act undetected.
Heraldic Skill Bonus: Sneaky Old Space Wizard. Due to your growing mastery of Sneak and status as a Herald, you have gained the skill add-on Sneaky Old Space Wizard. You are now able to magically create distractions to help you sneak into more places. Like an old space wizard sneaking around a weapon of planetary destruction, you can throw your voice and create other distracting sounds that seem to come
from any origin within 30 feet of your location.
Due to improving Sneak, you have received +1 Intelligence. Current Intelligence: 160.
Perfect. Lee grinned as he read the new bonus. It didn’t fit with what he considered Sneak’s purview since it called attention to him rather than misdirecting it, but this was exactly what he needed. The ability to create a voice from anywhere within thirty feet would stop the messenger in its tracks. The only thing he needed to do was make sure he acted quickly enough.
“Ling, I’m going to try to get this guy by myself,” Lee said as the group crouched in the thick brush surrounding the military’s encampment. “Follow me. If I fail, I need you to snipe him off the mount before he gets close to the army. If they see him, our plan fails.”
“Got it,” Ling answered in a whisper.
“If her arrows miss, my spear won’t,” Miller added assuredly.
“Even so, I need you to wait here with the others. You’ll just have to be our last line of defense,” Lee said, feeling confident since he now had two backup plans.
With that, Lee snaked through the brush straight toward the mounted courier. He tested out the skill a few times as he went, projecting a voice that was barely louder than a whisper from different locations in order to make sure he wouldn’t mess the skill up when it was time. It felt strange to use as, unlike his other magic-related skills, this one didn’t require him to channel any of his mana. Rather, it just required him to think the phrase or sound he wanted to say first, just imagine where he was casting the sound from and will it so.
Lee made his move when the messenger was between thirty and fifty feet away. He started off with the voice casting, shouting, “Hey! Wait up!” behind the messenger, causing the flustered Leprechaun to turn his head and look over for who was shouting behind him. He didn’t slow his pace much, maybe halfing it, but it was enough. Lee shouted one more time with the sneaky ventriloquism as he had the metal-covered Ethan take to the air and shoot toward the man.
“Who’s there?” the man asked, turning around in every direction to see who kept calling to him. It was too late for him by the time he turned forward again. The mouse pinned itself across his mouth and restricted his airflow, digging its claws into the sides of his face and latching on firmly. The messenger tried to scream, but the metal mouse made it impossible.
The Leprechaun let go of the reins, trying to pull the golem from his face, and Lee used the athletic abilities his levels had given him to jump up and tackle the man off his mount. It wasn’t the most graceful maneuver, but Lee hit him squarely in the chest. Both bounced down the mount and awkwardly rolled off the creature and onto the ground. Lee grabbed ahold of the courier’s arms and tried to pin him to the ground with one arm while pulling a blade with his other. A moment later, he was pressing the sword against the messenger’s neck. Sensing that it had lost its passenger, the mount came to a stop a short distance away, patiently waiting for its rider to return.
“Quiet! If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead,” Lee growled in the coldest, most villainy voice that he could muster. “I’m keeping you alive because I don’t need to kill you, so here’s what you’re going to do: you’re going to stop moving, stop fidgeting, stay deathly quiet and listen to every word I say. If you so much as drop a bead of sweat I don’t like, I’ll slit your throat right here. Nod if you understand.” He knew that he shouldn’t enjoy this since he was basically threatening to kill a man, but it felt like he was the badass ninja-like spy in an action thriller.
The Leprechaun nodded as his mount started walking over to them slowly.
“Great. Now, here’s what’s going to happen,” Lee said, letting the golem unlatch from the man’s mouth and sending it to fetch Miller and the others. “First, I’m going to have you strip down. You’re about my size, so I’ll be needing your armor. The next thing that’s going to happen is I’m going to take your . . .” Lee looked over at the mount, signaling to it with a nod of his head. “I’m going to take that thing, whatever it’s called, and I’m going to ride off for a bit. If you stay here and keep your mouth shut, I’ll deliver both of them back to you. Nod again if you understand and twice if you understand and agree.”
The man quickly nodded twice but didn’t say anything. “Good. Now, just wait a minute before I let you up. Then you undress to your skivvies.”
The wait didn’t take long. Miller arrived a moment later, and he was all too happy to keep the man pinned at spear point.
The stolen uniform was rather refined. Very closely matching one of a Roman legionnaire, it consisted of a metal cuirass with baltea straps hanging down from a cloth tunic underneath it. The only real difference was that there weren’t sandals to go with it. Instead, he had proper leather boots that matched the color of the tunic: white with gold trim. The best part about the outfit--at least for Lee, anyway--was that it came equipped with a gladius, shield and pilum as if it really were straight out of a Roman legion. If he were in the real world, he would have absolutely celebrated this moment to cosplay as a soldier from one of the greatest military forces of its time. Now, however, he was worried that the army would be far more sophisticated and efficient than he hoped. The better this army was, the worse it was for Lee.
“I like the look,” Amber commented as she eyed Lee up and down. “You look very handsome.”
“Mmmhmm . . .” Ling didn’t say anything but gave a slow up and down with her eyes as she added her approval.
“I kinda like it too, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to any outfit with a skirt,” Lee laughed, stretching his legs a little and enjoying the breeze.
“Nonsense. A good battle skirt is exactly what a true man needs!” Miller said as he looked Lee over. “It doesn’t stifle you, locking away your pride in a dungeon of clothes.”
“Then why don’t you wear one?” Lee looked over at him. “I mean, if it’s so important to a man.”
“Because . . .” Miller thought about it for a minute as he looked at Lee. “Because a man must also endure hardships.”
Lee laughed as he shook his head. “You’re something else, Miller,” he added. He felt like in the last day or two, especially after hearing Miller’s story, the Firbolg had lightened up a lot, and he and Lee were much closer. Before, Miller seemed like he was just a die-hard justice freak who dragged Lee from battle to battle, but now, there were tones of his personality and humor popping through in a way that Lee couldn’t help but appreciate.
“Alright. So, what’s next?” Amber asked. “You gonna deliver that piece of paper already?”
“Not yet. There’s one more thing I need.” Lee walked over to the mount and opened up the mail satchel. It took several minutes, but he eventually found the one letter in the entire stack that had a wax seal on it. “Excellent. This should do it.”
Once the letter was in his hand, he used his crafting power to separate the wax seal from the letter, keeping it perfectly intact, before opening it up and examining its the contents. The writing was neat, done in what looked like a traditional blackletter font. After committing it all to memory and making sure he understood exactly how the person had written each letter, he gave the text a final scan.
General Brigid of Kildare,
No additional orders from His Majesty. Maintain patrol route.
Lord General Mogue
It was such a short and neat letter with no wasted words. The signature at the bottom had a stamp next to it as well. The mark next to the general’s name had the picture of a dragon with its wings spread out circled by a wreath of flames. Dragons, huh? This couldn’t be more perfect. Lee smiled as he looked at the messenger.
Lee took the blank paper and the inkwell and began to channel his power into it. The process was much quicker than it had been with other skills, like metal or glass working, but he was still able to fuse the ink onto the paper without any difficulty at all. He copied the pattern of the letters and created a nearly-perfect forgery of Lord General Mogue’s handwriting, e
ven going so far as to copy the stamp next to his name. In less than a minute, he had a new, completely different letter that contained exactly what he wanted, and it was a perfect forgery. He then stuffed the letter into the envelope and slowly melted the seal back into place using the same process. With that, the falsification was complete, and he now had everything he needed.
“So, this is just like a horse?” Lee asked his group as he hopped up onto the messenger’s mount.
“Yeah, except it’s a lot rougher of a ride, especially since you’re wearing a skirt,” Amber laughed. “Have fun with that.”
Lee frowned, and as he climbed onto the built-in saddle, he felt exactly what she was talking about. Even though the man had laid out a soft pad, the rock-hard plating of the creature’s skin was so rough and angled that it was incredibly uncomfortable. To make matters worse, the ride was so bumpy when the creature started moving that Lee quickly became worried he might never have children. He was certain that this was indeed a method of travel built for women only, and he couldn’t help but feel a great deal of pity for the poor messenger who had been forced to ride great distances on this thing’s back.
All the same, it didn’t take long for him to arrive at the camp. The two guards posted at the gate gave an odd fist-over-heart salute and then gestured for him to come to the side rather than passing directly through the gate.
“Evening, Scout Captain,” the guard on the left said. “I’ll watch over your Krunklerump for you and distribute the mail. The general has requested that the next messenger head to her immediately, so don’t worry about stabling the beast.”
Scout Captain? That’s my rank? Lee returned their salute, and he was happy for the fact that the uniform he had taken was of sufficient rank to afford enter and leave without question. Lee hesitated, not knowing the other man’s rank and wanting to avoid a faux pas by using the wrong term. He would have just said ‘sir,’ but then he remembered that military personnel only used the word ‘sir’ to close sentences when talking to a superior--at least in the movies he had seen, anyway. That wasn’t the case when a superior spoke to a subordinate, so he held his tongue and simply rushed out an agreement instead. “I’m on my way.”