“I can understand the imps, but this field is neutral ground why would we hide?” Grisha asks.

O’gu responds, his voice tense, “They may not attack you, but them spotting you in my lands will bring us both a lot of pain in the long term.” He points to the fenced section where the weapons protrude from the ground. “There’s indented dirt behind the stones those ol’ blades stick from. Hide there.” He directs their attention to the hut with the anvil sign. “When I get the men inside that hut, run to the forest. The imps will know when it’s safe to return.”

The shade brothers nod, then head towards the graveyard.

“Are you done yet?” The visitors ask.

“Almost. Be patient, will ya?” O’gu responds. He grabs the stone table they ate at, single-handily, and returns it to its original location.

Stabby stops. “Where’s Stomper?”

“You mean that weird sphere thing? It’s in the stable over there.” O’gu points to a stable to the right of them. “I would suggest just leaving it, should be fine here. But if you desperately need it, be quick... and quiet.” His voice sounds like thunder as he finishes. “Now go.”

Stabby looks up to Grisha.

Grisha shakes his head in defiance.

Stabby pouts, his eyes widening.

After a moment of futile resistance, Grisha gives in. He drops his shoulders with a sigh. “You hide with the imps. I’ll get Stomper.”

“Thanks!” Stabby latches on to Grisha’s arm, who gives a quick shoulder pat, then removes the younger shade. Grisha dashes to the stables, no sound coming from his swift feet.

Stabby grabs the fiends and continues towards the weapons.

As he runs he hears the light empire’s officers shout, “We’re coming in.”

Stabby hurries his rush, jumping above the fence and sliding behind the enormous ax he saw earlier. Landing, he holds the imps to his side and watches from the shadow of the ax.

The gates open, and five men enter. It’s a small group, but he suspects more lie behind the walls.

“I apologize for the rude entrance, but we are in quite a hurry.” Says the officer who appears to be in charge, walking through the gates his men opened.

His clothes were formal and face kind, but something feels off about him. Though his form isn’t impressive, every part of him is intimidating in an odd way. A mark lies on his neck, illustrating a sun with six wings. Stabby finds the mark in the connected memories. It seems to indicate the individual with the marking is high in rank, and that they have a god-granted blessing. Though, Stabby isn’t sure what the blessings are.

O’gu had finished his preparations and returned to his table before they arrived. He keeps his head low, despite the introduction, staying focused on the meat. “Then give your request quickly, Alastair.” He grumbles.

“Cheery as always.” Alastair chuckles. He raises a finger, “Oh right, I’ve brought extra men with me this time if you hadn’t noticed.”

A bulky man, almost as big as O’gu, comes into Stabby’s view. “This is Garvey. Who already reached the rank of captain and has been blessed by a god, in a matter of months. And these...” He looks back to the other three, a flame-kin, centaur, and dwarf respectfully, “are all first lieutenants. More lieutenants lay beyond the gate.”

“Trying to threaten me?” O’gu asks, unimpressed.

“Oh no, we just want you to feel important,” Alastair says. Garvey places a hand on the blade hanging from his side, a vicious grin lining his scarred face.

“The usual place then?” Alastair nudges his head towards the hut with the anvil symbol.

“Unless you want the view of me butchering while ya talk,” O’gu responds, his ax cutting deep into the head of an unrecognizable animal, brains spurting forth from the opened cranium. He looks up to see the man’s reaction.

A hint of disgust enters Alastair’s eyes but quickly fades. “I would prefer a... tidier place. Lead the way if you could.”

O’gu leaves the cleaver in the creature’s head and walks towards the hut, removing his apron as he walks through the door.

Alastair whispers something into Garvey’s ear, then follows the ogre. Garvey signs directions to the three lieutenants and goes into the hut. The dwarf guards the gate, the flame-kin probes the structures, and the centaur approaches the fenced area where Stabby hides.

They must be looking for the imps. Stabby needs to get out fast. But... How?

Stabby glances behind him for an area to move back to. He could back up a bit but, the field between him and the forest is wide open. He wouldn’t stand a chance outrunning a centaur, even without carrying three imps.

The centaur continues to march towards him, scanning the area carefully as he takes a glaive off his back.

The imps get antsy, trying to pull Stabby towards the field. Stabby shushes them, stuffing them into his shirt and crawling into a different depression further away from the approaching danger.

The centaur hops over the fence.

He’s too close for Stabby to crawl again without the centaur seeing him. Stabby holds tightly onto the imps and teleports back. The imps cry out, Stabby quickly covers their mouths, but the sound grabs the attention of the lurking centaur.

Stabby is running out of room to retreat to and teleporting hurts the fiends. What can he do?

The centaur tightens his grip on his pole, inching closer towards them.

Stabby needs a distraction. Oh!

He melts his hand into the ground. His hand appears on the floor next to a bin and pushes it over. A loud thunk sounds throughout the area, stealing both the centaur’s and the guard dwarf’s attention.

“What are you doing?” Mouths the dwarf.

“It wasn’t me,” The centaur whispers back.

The dwarf gives him a look of disbelief but returns to his sentry duties.

As Stabby nears the field, he realizes that the grass is high enough to hide in as long as he doesn’t move when the centaur watches. But keeping the centaur distracted will be a challenge, and he isn’t sure how to keep the imps from moving.

After the centaur finds nothing but the bones of dead animals near the bin, he trots back in Stabby’s direction.

He gets closer, not looking far enough away for Stabby to make a move.

The imps squirm, trying to break free from the shirt that traps them, but Stabby holds them still.

He creates other distractions, knocking other bins over and knocking on walls. It gets the centaur more angry stares from his counterpart, but, after a while, the centaur ignores the noises.

Realizing there’s no other escape, Stabby summons a dagger. He grasps the blade with the full intention of attacking the lieutenant, no matter the consequences. He has no choice.

Right as he’s about to strike a loud howl shakes the area, followed by the flame-kin bursting through the door of the stables.

The centaur and dwarf turn to their blown back comrade. The dwarf questions him, “What happened?”

The howling creature goes silent after the removal of the flame-kin, leaving nothing but a mess of broken doors and fallen bins.

O’gu slams the door open and stomps out of the hut, followed closely by Garvey, and shouts over the flame-kin’s response, “What’s going on here?” When he sees the centaur in the fenced area, his expression turns to a nasty scowl. “You...” He grabs his cleaver, charging at the centaur. “You treacherous swine.” Garvey and the dwarf hold him back.

“Now, now, mister butcher, attacking a light army officer is a serious offense.” Alastair walks calmly out of the door, giving O’gu a placating smile. “So, I hope you don’t plan to use that ax of yours against my men.”

“He’s stepping on my people’s graves!” O’gu shouts, struggling to break free from the grasp of the men.

Alastair steps to the side of the Butcher. “Refuse our deals, fine. We can manage. But attacking our men? Well, I don’t want to burn this place down, but a man of my status has to do what must be done.”

The words stop O’gu’s resistance. “I would never hurt your men...” O’gu grumbles, exhaling deeply. Garvey looks to Alastair. The ogre might say he won’t attack, but the way he glares at the centaur like a man watching his family’s murderer speaks differently.

Alastair nods to let him go. Hesitantly, the dwarf and Garvey release O’gu. To their relief, the Butcher turns and walks towards the stable. He steps over the shattered door and checks on the mysterious creature. He looks down at the flame-kin recovering from the impact of being blasted through a door. “Why are you having your men search my camp, Alastair?”

“Oh no, you have the wrong idea,” Alastair responds. “They just like animals and weaponry.” His venomous smile turns to the flame-kin. “Isn’t that right, men?”

The flame-kin and centaur nod, fear in their eyes.

O’gu grunts, then returns to his butchering. The centaur turns to where Stabby hides, still wanting to see what made the noise.

Stabby had been so drawn into the conversation that he forgot he needed to escape.

Damn it. What does he do now?

Alastair continues to talk to O’gu, “So, about our offer...”

As a jerk reaction, O’gu spins around and chucks the cleaver over Alastair’s shoulder.

Alastair’s stares in shock at the ogre, who nonchalantly grabs another cleaver and reverts to the table. “You defiled the graveyard twice. Get out.”

Alastair turns to see the blade of the centaur’s glaive cut cleanly off, and the weapon’s owner examining the broken weapon in horror.

Something pokes Stabby’s back. He looks to the side. Behind the walls that flank the fenced area, Grisha waves him over with Stomper by his side.

“Now, wait a minute. We can...” Alastair says, trying to cover for the action of the soldiers a second time.

“Get. Out.” O’gu interrupts, his meaty finger stabbing at the door.

The centaur still distracted by his destroyed glaive doesn’t notice Stabby crawl out of the fence and towards his brother.

Stabby hands the imps up the Kohdok, then climbs into the orb. He looks back to confirm the safety of O’gu. Seeing the Butcher is fine, they retreat into the forest.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The men look towards Alastair for directions, whose smile was now nonexistent.

“Very well, I have your answer.” Alastair’s voice feigns kindness, “I don’t believe we’ll be seeing you again, so I hope you enjoy the time you have left in life. You’re getting quite old after all.”

O’gu responds with silence.

Alastair leads the men to the front gate, momentarily pausing at the writing on the large hut’s sign. “Thank the gods Keiken created common. If I ever had to learn this dreadful language, I’d gag myself with a saw.” He says it loud enough for the butcher to hear, hoping to get a reaction, but the ogre says nothing.

Alastair scoffs and continues his exit.

They exit the gates, and Alastair loses the facade. The faux kindness showing no signs of previous existence.

A small figure in a blue mask falls in front of them.

“What do you want?” Alastair asks, his voice lacking the politeness from his earlier conversations.

“I bring good news.” The masked man says, lowering to a bow.

Alastair rolls his eyes, stomping past him. “Tell me later. That thug wasted too much of my time already.”

“It’s something that has to do with the shades.”

Alastair turns his head back to the masked figure, a spark in his eye. “And what would that be?”

“While you were talking with the butcher... I spotted shade princes retreating from the camp.”

Alastair’s face distorts into a devilish smile. “Oh... I can work with that.”