Gidea a Surprise

There was a hpmooqs (it was like a squoomph, only backwards,) and the entire group found themselves back where they started, sans o deer with only a bisected wizard for company. The horses, to their immense confusion, still had their wings, though they didn’t seem to have noticed yet that said wings, unlike the cool type from stories, which usually came from falcons and eagles, or some legendary birds..... theirs, were from a pigeon.

Luckily it being these particular horses, they took it in their stride; after all, you get what you get, and you don’t get upset. It did sweeten the pot a little that what they got was the potential ability to dive-bomb humans they didn’t like; I mean, how sweet was that?

Mibbet got to her feet and checked a spell scroll for the date and time.

“Oh nononononononononono, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap”, Rosalind ranted inside her head; Mibbet could have sworn that if Rosalind had legs, she’d be pacing circles in the floor.

“What’s up? I know that was weird and all, but we’ve had weirder, now what’s going on?”

“We’re late,” Rosalind explained as if that somehow magically clarified everything.

“So what? It’s not like we could skip preventing an undead uprising or a village being taken over, or the whole machine revolution thing, is it? All things considered, we’re making decent time, and nobody can blame us for the delay.”

“Doesn’t matter, we’re screwed, now we need to get moving, and pray we don’t run into them on the road.”

“Run into who? Rosalind, what in the name of the first pond is going on?”

“you’ll find out soon enough, for now, everybody, and I mean EVERYBODY on the wagon, Addy, I know you can’t fit inside, so you mind holding on the back-bars and occasionally giving a push; with your legs to speed things along? We’ve got no time to waste, from now on we need food? We eat on the wagon, we need sleep? We rotate shifts; we need to pee? Well, there’s plenty of bottles.”

Addy gave a nod of agreement to the scooting carriage thing; the rest, of course, was not particularly relevant to her given that she didn’t share those squishy body parts and very much doubted that they would be travelling until the magical half-life of her solar crystal was worn out necessitating replacement (given that it would take about five centuries she really hoped not, that would be so many games of travel chess.)

Errol gave a yelp as Rosalind hauled him into the wagon with the others, quickly throwing their gear in with them, then clambered up with a loaded crossbow onto the roof space to keep an eye out for potential threats.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Mibbet tried again as Rosalind peered at the bracelet round her wrist with a nervous groan. “Oh gods, we’re too hopping late, she groaned (Rosalind had been picking up a lot of froggy swear words from Mibbet lately, which seemed a fair swap considering how many human one’s Mibbet had learned from her, suffice to say it was a lot of many and varied types.) “She’s on her way.”

“Rosalind calm the hops down; who is she, where is she going, what in the hell is going on?”

“You’ll know soon enough, whatever you do, do not let your guard down, not even for a second. She’s coming, and you do not want to disappoint her, believe me. In fact, don’t let your guard down around anything from here to the city; she might use Decoys.”

Mibbet didn’t know it was even possible for a host mind to hyperventilate without the luxury of a body, but apparently, whatever the hell it was had her so nervous she’d figured out a way. She wasn’t even talking in sentences anymore.

“OK, so I ain't getting answers from Rosalind; maybe I should try the others.” Mibbet thought, but if Rosalind knew, then it would somewhat give the game away if she went around asking, and that would end poorly. So, in the end, the only options were to set up defences on the roll, be ready for what was coming, and hope that was enough.

“Is it a demon or something?” She asked, “because there’s no way it’s just another assassin.”

“Nope, she is not a demon or assassin, now get those window shutters down; we don’t wanna leave a vulnerable point. Wonder what they’ll use this time, log-trap, ambush point. Maybe wheel-traps. Oh, gods, I hate this bit; whatever you do, Mibbet do not let your guard down.”

There was a sudden yelp from outside, and after a bit of shaking, Trundles rolled to a gradual halt; they tried peering out through the speaking/shooting slit, but the horses were out for the count, and Sir Leeroy and the coachmen were all missing.

“All hands to their stations, Elvira up here and put Spikey to use Errol, it’s no use going out there, so be ready on defence inside. Addy, if you are out there and can hear me get your back to the wagon so you can’t be flanked. We’re down 3 men and our transport, we can’t lose any more. Keep Rascal and Alba inside, if she can drop the horses, then she’s got tranq darts, and those things will knock you for a loop well and truly.” Rosalind ranted, about 1 great grey whale away from going full Ahab, while Mibbet kept her eyes on the surroundings. Then a nearby bush rustled, she fired an arrow and drew Choppy, as something ran towards them too fast to track. Elvira tried to put Spikey to use, but it was batted aside like it was a toy, then Mibbet heard the angry growls of Alba and Rascal. This was followed by the sound of something hitting meat three times, then silence. Suddenly she was hauled down into the carriage proper, and it felt like something was trying to squeeze her bones out of her body like the last drops in a tube of toothpaste.

“Seems I win this round, sweetie; you really need to toughen up our training.” A familiar voice rebuked her; it took Mibbet a moment to recognise who it was. Oh, gods, no wonder Rosalind was nervous. This was Gidea Von Harmsworth, their mother.