《Apocalypse Wow》35 - A Clear Message
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I don’t like that “Do the most good for the most people” is being used by both sides of the war to justify their actions. If my philosophy can mean anything to anybody, do I even have one?
Chisel
8 Hours Later (Darkhome Time) - Cyan - Random Crystal Tunnel
A bound gnomic prisoner slams to the ground beside me.
“Ha! I found you!” says Maple
“Well done, bud.”
I’m tied up and tired in a tight tunnel surrounded by irate dwarves. I’d blast my way out, but I can’t concentrate. They stole a page from the Book of Wrecker and drugged me with sleeping poison then kept me awake. I expected better from the Lords of Highgarden. I don’t know why. It’s not like I know them.
A pair of high dwarves force sleeping poison into Maple, bringing his rescue to a close. The halfling and dryad look on with disapproval. As do I, though honestly, I’ve seen Maple drink worse. They could have just handed it to him.
“Dammit Chisel, you’re bleeding us dry of magic weapons. What do you have to show for it?”
The last of my initial captors is being chewed out by his boss. The contrast between them is striking. Sigurd is a hulk of golden mithril and crystal adamantine. He and his guard bristle with enchanted armaments. Chisel has worn robes and an old axe. He’s respectful but determined.
“I have nothing to show for it. Except a dragon. And I’m pretty close to ending the war. Which is the goal, right?”
“How close? A single orc won’t end the war. Wrecker’s an idiot. Also, I don’t see her here. Do you even know where she is?” Sigurd shakes his head. “Whatever you’re brewing up, it’s taking too long. We need force at the front now. I’m taking the dragon.”
Chisel looks pained. Sigurd makes a strong argument. Also, he’s strong enough to win with weak arguments. That said, the high dwarves look kinda punchy. May have botched the jump to Darkhome. It happens. Should have called their fast movers home. Live and learn. Or die and learn nothing. Cause I feel Maple brewing up a hell of a spell, sleeping poison be damned.
“We are so fucked! We really need help! Give us wrath! Give us ruin! Give us the most dangerous person we know!”
Everyone stops at Maple’s declaimations. It sounds serious but nothing happens. Which makes sense. He was heavily drugged. And then they gave him sleeping poison.
After a moment, the dwarves relax with a few chuckles. T’was a small scare, but they’ve everything under control. As they laugh reassuringly to each other, I notice a small gnome in a ninja mask standing among them.
Oh shit.
The Silence hoses the high dwarves down with magic missiles. Their enchanted armor holds, but they’re blown in all directions. We’re protected by the halfling, who’s glaive slaps away any missile fired in the general direction of Chisel, Sigurd, or us.
“Hmm.” muses Maple. “I may have fucked up.”
“Ya think?” I struggle with my bonds. Consider rolling away.
“I meant to summon a dangerous person who likes us. That’s the good spell. This situation is not ideal.”
The battle is getting more intense. Most of the dwarves are back on their feet and firing spells. They’re not able to tag the lightning fast gnome, but they manage to make the tunnel more deadly in general.
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“That said, I did specifically ask for help. So, maybe this will all turn out okay.”
“You also asked for wrath and ruin.”
“Yes, I could have worded it better. Man, she’s getting close. Any chance she’s trying to kill Sigurd? Maybe she hates dwarves now.”
“Fuck, this is strong rope. How fast can you roll?”
“I was born to roll. Let’s roll.”
We make about two revolutions before Sigurd’s heavy boot absentmindedly pins me to the floor. He continues to berate Chisel. “Honestly, what kind of operation are you running here?”
“You guys caught the gnome. Technically he’s your prisoner…”
I strain, but can’t budge Sigurd. The Silence looms closer. Sigurd and Chisel pay no mind, preferring to bicker. Dammit. I’m about to be murdered at a performance review.
“Who’s that?” Sigurd points to a large silhouette through the wall.
“I dunno.” Chisel shrugs. “Some elf?”
“Looks big to be an elf.”
“The crystal makes things look closer than they are. It’s foreshadowing.”
“I think you mean foreshortening. Or, forced perspective.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“That’s not right, though. Could be lensing.”
“Sure.”
“Why’s he looking at us?”
“I dunno. We’re causing a ruckus? Free entertainment? Does it matter?”
“Of course. A good leader has to keep an eye out for threats.”
“Like the battle behind us?”
Sigurd scoffs. “That’s not a threat, it’s a situation. Threats are in the future. Leadership is about the future. I don’t need to tell the lads that a gnome is trying to kill them. That would just be annoying.”
“Right.” Chisel rubs his brow as if it pains him. “Well, like I said, the crystal walls distort distances. That guy could be miles away. I don’t think he’s a threat.”
The large silhouette winds up and slams the tunnel wall. The crystal between us cracks with a loud snap.
“Although…”
A huge ogre fist bursts through. It blasts Sigurd with a torrent of fire. The wall shatters in an explosion of jagged crystal, giant wolves, flaming ogres and gnomic children waving crossbows.
“Oh hey.” says Maple. “It’s the boys from the bar. That’s the help I ordered. Knew that spell was a winner.”
The wolves savage the high dwarves while the kids harass The Silence with crossbow bolts. They aren’t afraid of her. The ogre grabs my bindings and tears them asunder.
“Hello Cyan.”
“Hyperion! Good to see you!”
“Indeed.” Hyperion sets me on my feet, as Sigurd regains his. “Excuse me, won’t be a moment.”
Hyperion’s flames reignite as he rapidly pounds Sigurd into the floor like a demented blacksmith trying to forge a better class of dwarf.
I untie Maple and try to figure out what’s going on. “Are we winning?”
“Maybe. Not for long.” replies Maple. “I feel a rumbling.”
Dark elves speed into the chamber, then straight through. They’re in a hurry to be someplace else. Behind them the tunnel starts to fill with smoke.
Shit. Not this again.
“Back lads! Back through the wall! It’s the dragon!”
An earbusting cascade of cracking and cackling hit us as Apex forces his bulk through the crystal tunnels. The dwarves are stunned by his horrid echoes, but we run with the elves. Fuck this scene.
I fear The Silence will snipe us as we scramble to escape, but she has squared on the approaching horror. She may still be mad about her owl.
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Apex claws his way into our newly enlarged tunnel and is greeted with a faceful of magic missiles. I expect The Silence to be instantly immolated, but instead the dragon gleefully pulls out a monstrosity of a wand and sticks the gnomic ninja to the wall with goopy bubbles.
“Okay? Not what I was expecting.” muses Apex. Then he shrugs happily. “So cool!”
The wolves sprint past with kids dangling from their mouths. Hyperion snags an armload of exhausted elves and lopes off. Maple chuffs behind him, struggling with a large sack. “I got loot!”
I grab Maple and run. Try to get him to drop the heavy ass sack. It tears open to reveal a stash of high end magic weaponry. Holy shit! Loot indeed.
“We’re rich!” exclaims Maple. “Let’s go back! We can take ‘em!”
I ignore that but decide to keep the heavy sack of wondrous items. We’ll find a good home for them. We round a corner and run into a bunch of gnomes. “Why have we stopped?”
“We found a bee.” One of the kiddies holds out a battered old honey bee. “She needs to talk to you.”
The bee shares some troubling news.
The tunnel is somber as the gnomes look at me with concern. I don’t know what to do. Except I do. Shit. First step is to get everyone to safety. Which is gonna suck, because we left one of us behind.
I rifle through the loot bag, looking for a miracle. Find dad’s battered old practice sword. It gave the dragon a pretty good jolt once. Maybe it’ll do. I shake it loose. Hand the bag and the bee to Maple.
“Go on ahead. I’ll be right behind.”
“Cy, this is upsetting, but you’re making a bad decision.”
“Go ahead.” I say, walking back down the tunnel. “I’ll just be a second.”
Echoes of dwarvish bickering garble over me as I head back.
...do we go after them?....I don’t know why we had them in the first place…..can I eat this gnome?...No…Yes…I heard a yes…send a blast of fire down that tunnel and let’s go…No…Yes…I’m liking these yeses…
“Excuse me.”
They all look at me.
“Hey cuz.” says Apex. “What’s up?”
“Uh, I need the gnome. To, uh, finish our escape.”
“That’s a shame. I’ve already decided to eat her. She keeps blasting me. It’s annoying. I suggest you enjoy a partial victory.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Fine.” snaps Sigurd. “Eat them both.”
“No.” says Chisel.
“Okay.” I say.
“Interesting.” says Apex.
“I can’t run. Not in good conscience. If I must die, so be it.” I hold out dad’s practice sword. “I only ask, that the one who beats me, takes my father’s blade.”
Apex looks at the distressed stick curiously. “Is that a Longstrider blade? I’ve never seen one so…spontaneous.”
“Forged in battle.”
“Really? Unbelievable. Look at the confident strokes of this runework. May I?” He carefully takes the blade. Displays it to the high dwarven guards. Takes a professorial air. “Most Longstriders use a mathematical apparatus to stencil their runes on a skymetal base. They want it perfect. Obsessives. To freehand one on pine? Unheard of. I’ve never heard of it. That speaks to an entirely different caliber of obsession. It looks like he clawed this giant rune in with his fingernails.”
“He did. Whilst in a drunken rage.”
“My word. Exquisite. Your father is a master. This is a masterwork.”
“Was, unfortunately. And the blade’s unfinished.” I shake my head. “I was to complete it. With my death, that responsibility falls to you.”
Apex is taken aback. “I am honored by your trust, and accept this solemn duty. I can see where the last rune should go. It’s practically begging to be added.” He squints and carefully lowers a claw to the blade, but hesitates. “Wait. You said it was forged in battle?”
“Desperate battle. He only added a rune when he was losing.”
“GAH!! Curse my invincibility!” Apex turns his head with sadness and holds the blade back to me. “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept. It would never be finished.”
I push the blade back to him. “No. I’m not asking you to finish it. I need something much more difficult. This sword needs a guardian. Someone to protect it through the ages. And bequeath it to a Longstrider in extreme peril. So it may become complete.”
“Oh.” Apex sheds a tear of relief. “Yes. Yes! I can do that!” He strikes a rampant pose - fist out, wings snapped above him - pulverizing a new cavern into the crystal labyrinth. “AND LO, THE MASTERBLADE FINDS A NEW GUARDIAN!! SHOULD IT TAKE A THOUSAND THOUSAND YEARS I SWEAR TO SEE IT DONE!!!”
“Great. Now eat them.” says Sigurd.
Apex stands down. Eyeballs Sigurd. “Um, what?”
“That’s what we’re leading up to, right? Chop chop.”
“Are you insane?” Apex is aghast. “I’m forging a precious memory. One I plan to cherish for eons. Eating them would just… just no.”
Sigurd scoffs. “We’re not paying you to make precious memories. Get it done, and let’s get on to what matters.”
Apex horks a glob of blue fiery doom. Nothing remains of Sigurd except a hole in the crystal and a descending blob of bright blue grim death.
There’s a pregnant pause. I’m not sure what to say. The high dwarves are similarly uncertain. Eventually, Chisel claps his hands, nods.
He addresses the crowd. “Obviously, The Lords of Highgarden understand the importance of memories. What else are we fighting for?”
The High Dwarves nod.
To me, he whispers. “Grab the gnome and fuck off.”
I nod. Pluck The Silence from the wall and hussle away.
The echoes of subdued dwarvish bitching follow me. They’re still bickering about where to deploy Apex, but the tenor of the argument has changed. Everyone is trying to fob him off on the other team.
I pound down the tunnels. The Silence struggles in my grasp. It’s annoying and annoyingly gooey.
I’m tired. I stick her to a wall. She struggles to point her missile wand at my face. I shake my head. I’m tired. Pull Flower’s sacred text from mine. Pull my sister from the wall. Give her her text.
“Enough of this. Dad’s gone. I need help.”
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