Tales From Within The Walls.

Private Log of Grimalkin, grandson of Baltamus and Napoleon.

Month 7 Day 15 Year 427

On the road again.

A note on the case my sister had given me:

“Now, dontcha dare open this up until you’ve found something worth protectin’.”

Didn’t she know these were weapons to help us take down Darrell? Still, the outside of the case had a few arrows tipped with that “Dread Metal.” With the blood of my ancestors at my side, how can I fear the future? Still, I dared not go against Hephy’s wishes, last time I did that I wound up slicing my arm open good. If she’s telling me not to open it until a certain time, it stays closed.

Themis, Charlemagne, Napoleon, and the Paladin are all in the room with me right now, so I don't have long. It’s going to be a busy trip and getting time to write is at a premium.

***************************************************************************************************

Wow, just wow, the carriage we had rented was massive. Six titanic white horse-like animals pulled it. They’re fifteen feet tall and have an outer armor on all of their joints made out of bone or something. If the horses were any other color it wouldn’t be too unrealistic to see them pull some tyrant around.

As for the inside of the carriage itself, it was designed for long voyages, with an emptying latrine, a supply of food and water to last five people twenty days. Four rooms connected by a hallway on the right side of the carriage where the entrance was.

If anything, we were riding in a land-yacht. Still, it would take five days to reach Thebes considering the lack of roadwork between it and the Green City. Apparently infrastructure was not high on the ruling bodies to-do list.

Napoleon then looked at me with an unshakable force behind his eyes. “You can do it now.”

And finally, taking the piece of paper I had signed in blood earlier, I handed it to Grimalkin. “If I'd done this in the city, you would have just transferred back to Leere, but out here… Charlemagne let Grimalkin borrow one of your medical knives please.”

“Wait, WHAT?! What are you doing?! He’s bound by that as penance for his grandfather. If we give it back who knows what he might do, he could rip out all our throats!” Every single one of us blankly stared at Charlemagne, communicating just how serious any of us thought the possible threat was. Causing the priest to put his hood back over his head as the stuffed green frog handed Grimalkin a scalpel from his new medical set.

Grimalkin took the blade, and then looked at me. “You sure about this? I can kill you without this curse killing me if I undo this. You won’t be able to give me any orders as a Master.”

I look at him blankly, not a hint of joy in my voice, “I don’t do slaves…”

With that he gives himself a small cut, wiping the blood in a circle the piece of paper, it evaporated in his hands. After that we all just lean back, not rushing things as Grimalkin takes his first breath of free air he has had since over a decade prior.

Napoleon had told me the story. To avoid the “within three generations” rule that the merchants had pushed through into law for anyone deemed a ‘Demon Lord’ the former one had abandoned his daughter and wife. His daughter gave birth to and lived together with Grimalkin until he had reached around the age of seven, that’s when things started catching up to him.

His mother had been turned in to the church by a food vendor she sold rats to. Grimalkin, still a child was unable to care for himself and for three weeks, stayed in the home of himself and his mother, not learning her fate until much later.

The starving, barely clinging to life kitten of a boy pulled himself out of the home to try and steal a quick piece of food so he didn’t starve. That’s when Hephy and her mom had found him. Hephy, being three years older than the small crying pile of fur had been an inspiration to the young boy. A Blacksmith family by trade they could easily endure the heat needed to craft legendary swords.

He started doing puppet shows using hand puppets he’d made that Napoleon had described as, “Think of Punch and Judy, now add more swearing.” Soon he updated to wire puppets that his new sister had made for him, and for a year and a half he had been known as ‘Reflexes of Lightning Grimalkin’ apparently it sounded better in the native language of this world.

His doing the shows to provide for his new family, however, drew the attention of the army. While the lower levels of it are integrated and reasonably accepting, nobles are still required by law to enlist for a minimum of five years. Nobles… do not like this very much. Nobles also don’t like the ‘soulless races.’ So, with no real reason, they started harassing the young boy.

It escalated over a few days when he’d refused to just give the nobles his puppets. That night, a group of five men beat Grimalkin with boards, clubs, and rocks. All of them were dressed as the boy’s own puppets… he never touched them after that… When the guards were caught by their superiors for what they did, instead of punishing them; it was found out that Grimalkin was Baltamus’ grandson and was brought before leere.

As had Napoleon watched, Leere carved the ancient slaver’s curse into the boy's flesh, writing his contract using the dripping blade. This was the law for all members of a Demon Lord’s family within three generations… Humans could get out of this, just simply disowning a family member would mean that they were immune to the three-generation rule. However, the government did not acknowledge any rights for many lower-class members, even the right to distance themselves from each other. Marriage; for example, had to be paid for by a large amount of money, hiring an official scribe to make the certificate and a priest to conduct the wedding. Such luxuries were reserved for the members of the inner city who could afford them.

The Three Cities chose not to view any form of family ties other than blood for those they deemed “beneath them” as such, the disavowment of Balatamus family was never accepted. Napoleon won’t tell me what happened to Grimalkin’s blood mother, but he has assured me that Grimalkin knows… I don’t have the courage to satisfy my curiosity in this matter.

With the curse lifted, I look at him, not sure what to say, so I say the only thing that comes to mind. “In my world, when we learn about history, we’re told that many of the freed slaves with only one name would choose a second to honor their new family line and rights as free men… I think you should pick one.”

“I think I should too, but I'd like some time to think on it.” Grimalkin responds, a catch in his breath.

Themis, seeing the gloomy look on everyone's faces and the hiding priest has had enough of this. “Okay, I get a heavy moment just happened and all, but we got like five more days together until we reach Thebes, so, let’s get this all out of the way.”

Then she stood up in the center of the room, wearing the armor that Grimalkin’s sister made just to test the properties, ugly and crude, but indestructible. “I am the Demon Lord.” My brain went blank, my sword wouldn’t summon and my new weapon was far in the back of the carriage.

Themis continued, “Before you all behead me, I just wanted to say that after what I just saw, I have no need to doubt you anymore.”

As Grimalkin, myself, and Charlemagne all inched back in our seats, knowing full well what Themis, the Demon Lord was capable of. Napoleon just sat back, crossed his legs on the seat across from him and laughed. “Ha! So you’re the new kid! I had expected the Demon Lord would show themselves at the trials. Hell, I actually thought that Kobold would be them, but you, now, that’s somebody with the power to back up the title!”

With the old man’s legs purposefully blocking the only door out of here. All of us knowing his strength began to calm down, albeit slowly as Themis responded. “I should have expected that from you old man, live as long as you have and you’re ready for anything. Ya know, I always used to respect you growin’ up, your arrival was messy but everything you did after that, now that was really something to be proud of. Thank you for all you have done.” With that, the normally brash and disrespectful xeshieen bowed to him.

“Stand up, I have no need for your bows or your thanks, all you guys have EVER needed was just us standing out of your way. Now, tell me what in the hell you’re doing on this mission and NOT in the green city taking advantage of the Paladin’s absence?” He looked incredulous, a cold anger brewing under the surface. “This one wasn’t tossed into a battle for the countries soul within ten minutes of showing up, you have a CHANCE this time! Don’t you see?” His voice at the end erratic, panicked and unfocused, he quickly brought himself back to his usual composure however upon seeing everyone’s concerned faces.

“You’d think that. But you don’t know what’s been happening in the group.” She looked down, closing her eyes. “Public executions, notice a rise in them lately? Theft, burglary, murder, horrid other crimes, there’s a lot of us ‘Soulless’ being cleaved lately in the middle of the walls.” After checking to see our responses, even Charlemagne nodded, we’d all been trying to not look at them, look away from the harshness as we went about our business in the walls. But it was hard to not hear the final words of everyone beheaded, ‘Freedom!’ Her eyes stayed low to the ground. “In the ancient scriptures, barred to those without standing in the church, we learned of Paladin Eric.”

Napoleon hangs his head upon hearing this and then looks back up, over at me. “By my best guess, Paladin Eric’s true identity is William Wallace… He described his death and torture in the personal logs of the History of the Holy Paladins. He’s one of the few we’ve been able to determine other than Joan of Arc’”

“War for independence William Wallace? Who fought one of the most evil empires of earth’s history long before any of the more recent atrocities they committed.” I excitedly blurted out, I had been hoping some great ‘hero’ of history would have come to this world.

This time, it was Themis who spoke. “We found many of his journals copied into the library with our agents in the church. We learned of his actions in your world and his eventual defeat. We also learned what he achieved here.”

Napoleon this time started speaking. “Over seven hundred years ago, when the Demon Race was still around, Paladin Eric found a village ruled by them… None of the residents were demon, yet all of their enforcers and leaders were. Enraged, he burned the village to the ground, taking the centaurs and humans from the wreckage they founded a new city, one which was unfortunately lost to the ages.”

“Yes, Paladin Eric made it his life’s mission to free as many from the shackles of oppression as possible. The name of his first village, the one lost to time was ‘All man’s land’.” She sits beside Napoleon, hands in front of her, ready to be restrained as if any of us could. “You are the Paladins, summoned to fight on behalf of humanity and the church, I am ready to be brought in.”

She has us, we all know it, well, all of us except Charlemagne. “Alright Paladin, you’re not as quick as Napoleon but you’ve already defeated the Demon Lord, we can just turn around and drop her off…” He would have kept going if Grimalkin had not put his hand over the poor priest's mouth before he really dug his own grave with Themis.

I smile at her, almost laughing, “You have us in between a rock and a hard place you know? You know very well by now we aren’t coming after you, that’s the only reason you’ve brought it up to us all.” It was true after Paladin Napoleon had told me what happened to him sixty-five years ago, being freshly summoned and told to go kill what he thought was a movie monster type of bad guy, he’s had many years to regret his decision. That was the reason he had confronted me after the blacksmiths, he wanted me in on his plan.

“I see you’ve already made quite the use out of the reinstatement of Kobolds, I’ll say, that took a lot of work.” Napoleon is still just smiling at us as we all look back at him. “What!? You thought a Speaker from this world willed it? Nah, I found some dirt on him and he owed me too many favors to say no. I’ve been TRYING to create a new ‘Demon Lord’ for decades, making openings in the system.”

At that Napoleon showed off his lapel, multiple small badges were on it, denoting different kinds of military service and rank.

“Wait… so you’re the reason we’ve been able to get so many agents inside the walls?” Themis asked, this time it was her turn to be surprised. “I thought you were trying to stomp out resistance with gifts and had grown obsessed with charity in your old age.”

With a wisened tone, “Oh, far from it, who do you think engineered your father’s escape right at the time the Paladin summoning was finalized?” Themis and I both looked at him, mouths agape. “I knew your dad wouldn’t go down without a fight to some newbie, and I guessed he’d be a bit disoriented, much like I was, so I risked the chance. It was the only time your dad could have made an escape, our only hope was that my replacement wouldn’t make the same mistake I did.”

I feel so used! What did this old man think would have happened if I beheaded him? Any hope for working with the Demon Lord would have been lost. However, as I panic about what could have happened Napoleon continues unabated. “Our plan was to find you after we’d built up a small elite force of our own, you’ve actually saved us a lot of time.” Napoleon continued. “As for you Grimalkin, we know what you did, and why you did it, ease yourself.”

Grimalkin, who had been stiff as a board, ready to jump into combat slowly relaxed, looking over to me and then down at his hands, where his old contract used to be. He almost said something but stopped himself.

This time it was Charlemagne freaking out. “Okay, I get you want to make the soulless, I mean the non-human’s lives better but SHE’S THE DEMON LORD!” He looked incredulous like it was just impossible I wouldn’t want to fight her.

Themis looks at him, her voice calm, “Okay, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, what, exactly do you think a Demon Lord is, little man?”

He looked up at her, stumbling over his words “A Demon Lord is… well… a Demon Lord is…. We just know they’re really really bad okay and the Paladins are brought out to fight them because we can’t!” at least the little guy was honest.

“No, The Paladin is summoned because humans don’t want to do the work that a Demon Lord asks of them. You’re officially dubbed a ‘Demon Lord’ by the cities when you’ve united all four other races under you as an organization of some sort. The Paladin is used as a way to break those groups up, force blame to be made for something that doesn’t require it. Then to keep them separate through threats and mutual distrust.” She looked at him in the eye her determination unwavering.

Continuing, “You’re named a Demon Lord when your group asks for better conditions, pay, food. You’re called a Demon because they don’t even have to think of working with a Demon, it’s unheard of. Turning away a ‘Community Leader’ is harder to justify.” A rage just under her voice she was able to keep barely contained, Charlemagne gives a squeak of terror and then backs off.

“Hey, buddy, I think you should go in one of the other rooms for a while.” Grimalkin pats him on the back, smiling at him and sending Charlemagne out the door.

“That’s another thing catboy, why do you coddle him so much?!” Themis was now letting some anger flow into her voice, frustrations piling up.

Grimalkin stared out the window, a melancholy look. “He gave me bread.”

Napoleon pats his back, pulling him in close and embracing him, after a quick moment of bonding he says. “Sorry, I think they need more than that.” His voice cold, quiet and even, merely stating the truth.

Grimalkin looks at Napoleon with a begging look in his eye and then continues. “After Leere had found me and had me brought in, I was not cooperative in the least… I tried to attack him multiple times, thinking if I killed him then everything in the city would just change, I was a fool.

“A kid, no older than eight was set to guard me, a priest in training, having spent his whole life in the church. He was fasting for some holiday or something, so he had only brought crusts of bread and water to eat, in honor of Paladin Siegfried.” he looked off into the distance. “Do you know that Siegfried fasted because he had given all of his food to a pair of starving children he had saved from an evil dragon? I didn’t.” Grimalkin still looking out the window, distantly watching the hills roll by.

“For months, he would tell me the stories of Paladins past, of great warriors and fierce battles… After the first week however he learned what Leere had intended for me. No food or water was ever brought to my cell, and I was slowly starving to death. When it was clear to the priest that I wasn’t getting food, he offered me his crusts of bread and water, he was eating so little yet offered it to me.

“‘It’s just what Siegfried would do, why should I be less of a hero than him?’ was his response when I asked him why… After two months Vansen came, inspecting me to see if I was a miracle or something for not dying after two months. When he figured out what the priest was doing he slapped the boy, viciously beating him and informing him that ‘The Lesson of Siegfried does not apply to the soulless.’ After that he mentioned something about orientation, I never saw the young priest after that.

“Napoleon was the one to get me to come out when he did, I handed him the hand-made cloth tissue that the kid had put the bread on. The name inside said Charlemagne IV who was much too old to have been the kid when we looked him up. Soon we learned he had a newly turned 9-year-old son in the care of the Green Church due to his ‘Exceptional Magical Talent’ or whatever…” Grimalkin finished, looking at Themis and me as Napoleon sat back silently.

“What… what do you think happened?” Was all Themis could muster, my own mouth unable to budge.

“Considering how beaten up he was when he left the prison with Vansen, I would say anything. After hearing that he was Vansen’s little plant to keep tabs on the Paladin I had to try and repay him somehow. The best I’m coming up with is just showing him that others aren’t so different or scary. I just hope I can break through whatever that old bastard did.” He spits on the ground, crossing his arms to show his resolve.

Themis just nods, “Still a racist jerk now though, he doesn't get off easy with me.”

We nod with her, none of us expecting anything else.

***************************************************************************************************

Emergency Report for Speaker Vansen

Scribe, Charlemagne V

Month 7 Day 15 Year 427

I have reason to believe that the Demon Lord’s forces are working together with the Paladins. I cannot confirm it yet, further inquiry is required before I can be certain. Requesting orders on what to do if I gain confirmation.

***************************************************************************************************

Orders.

Upon confirmation, you are to administer poison to all of those deemed working with the Demon Lord.

***************************************************************************************************

The Scripture of Charlemagne V, Scribe and Priest of the Green Church.

Month 7, Day 15, in the Year of our country 427.

15.) The Paladin has shut me out, the Demon Lord is right there in a room with two of them and neither of them are lifting a finger!

16.) I am unsure what to do, as a Priest it is my holy responsibility to protect and support the Paladin and yet I doubt.

17.) I had thought that the Speaker and Sir Paladin were not that different too long ago, I now know the error in that thought.

18.) The Speaker is willing to go the extra mile in these things, the Paladin’s will must be flawed in a way.

19.) I have received my orders, but I question them in my heart. Is this truly the best thing to do?

20.) They have been with her for half a week and she did not make a motion to try and kill them.

21.) Vansen is ready to do anything to protect the peace.

22.) Should any less be asked of me?

**************************************************************************************************

Deep within the jade walls, under the congressional cathedral, there are rumors of tunnels; deep, dark, and winding. The street children say that if the guards catch you stealing enough food they will send you to this place to be locked away and forgotten for all eternity. This is entirely baseless rumor-mongering.

The adults outside of the wall on the other hand, believe that it is a place you get sent to if you speak out against humans. The torture chamber of the worst, or the best depending on your definitions. This, however, is not entirely accurate.

As for the members of Themis’ resistance? They believe that it is the place where many of their allies are held for charges that don’t really matter. A place to put the undesirables from clogging up their view, for anything that they do not consider of value must surely have none. This would happen to be the most apt description.

This fetid maze of winding hallways and nightmarish rooms is where Vansen now finds himself. Coming to a great arena-like chasm with four pillars framing the center of the room. From those four pillars four chains from each lead to the hulking mass of flesh in the center of the room, at the end of each chain is a jade spear, sunken deep into the grimy flesh of the beast in the center. Should the beast ever remove the spears himself, the pillars would collapse; sealing the giant in its cage for all eternity

Sixteen was the number of his punishments, for sixteen is the number of humans killed in this beast’s final raid. One of Vansen’s predecessor's finest soldiers, his magnum opus sat hunched, unspeaking, unmoving; just as it has stayed for over two decades.

Vansen slowly walks into the room, his massive head-piece nearly falling as a gust of wind races through the cavernous room. The dome, entirely sealed off from the outside world, four doors with heavy locks bar the way of anyone attempting to enter this chamber. His only crime, at least according to Vansen, was doing his job TOO well.

The small man speaks, “I’ve come! With a proposition!”

Another massive gust of wind swirls around the room as the hulking mass lets out another breath. “And what would the speaker have with me?” The voice of the giant is weak, ragged, accusatory. “You lot locked me up instead of sending me with my men, give me one reason I should ever be your lackey again?”

A wicked smile crossed Vansen’s lips, his voice like honeyed venom as he sits down in the chair he brought for himself, “We’re getting the old gang back together. For one.”