《Mark of the Fated》Chapter 42 - The Path Ahead
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I awoke in a panic. “Bart!”
Without room in the cell he appeared in the hallway outside. “Yes, Mark?”
“How long was I out?” I asked, rubbing at my eyes.
“Approximately seventeen minutes.”
“Thank god for that,” I sighed, climbing from the chair. “I’ve got too much to do to be sleeping all day.”
“You also need your rest, Mark. I’m concerned about your vitals. Your blood pressure is through the roof and your energy levels are barely at fifty percent.” Bart appeared to be studying a screen I couldn’t see judging by the flicker of his eyes.
“That’s the thing about us humans, Bart. We’re flawed beings. Pain and horror have a way of fucking with our immune systems when we go through enough of it. It’s called stress. Isn’t this what you wanted? To put us to the test? To see if we deserve to go on?” I dragged a mug of steaming tea from nowhere and sipped at the comforting brew.
“Well, yes, but there has to be some kind of limit,” Bart replied, thoughtfully. “We can’t have you all dropping like flies.”
“Tell your bosses to slow down the orc invasion, that would help,” I offered.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible. You see, once you arrive in the world, you join their timeline as if it were your own. The events are already in motion.”
“So you can realm jump and wipe out planets, but tinkering with a game world is too much?”
He looked away evasively.
“Are these people not killing each other daily? Why put us to the test in worlds where we need to commit violence? To do the very thing you’re punishing us for?”
“I can’t answer that. The decision was made by someone far more powerful.”
“Then tell them to give us a break. Every day I’m stuck here is a day I lose forever.” My heart sank. “I should’ve stayed with Honey. She’s already ten.” I felt my cheeks flush with anger. “I swear to god, Bart. If I’m stuck in this shit so long that I lose my best friend I’m going to get into your spaceship and fuck you all up. I’m going to show you why we’re so good at killing each other. Do you hear me?” I put two pound in my paladin swear jar, then took the money back out again because I was so furious.
“I hear you, Mark. I’ll take your feedback with me to the next progress meeting. I know it’s easy for me to say, but please try and stay calm. You’re all doing far better than we could’ve hoped.”
I sighed and rubbed at my stubbled face. “Sorry, Bart. I’m just a little frazzled. Up until a few days ago the worst I had to deal with was vomit on my arcade carpet or a pisshead roughing up one of my machines when they lost all their money. It’s been a bit of a shock to the system.”
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“No apology needed. I wish I could say more, but take solace in the fact that your people are performing valiantly.”
“Could you maybe give me some advice on what to do here? We’re surrounded on all sides by more enemies than I can count. I’m one person. How about letting all the other volunteers join together to form an army?”
“It was decided that each human would forge their own way,” Bart replied. Seeing my disappointment, he reached out and held my shoulder; a strangely warm gesture from creatures that were executioners of worlds. “And though I can’t offer you any direct guidance, why not try to break it down? Compartmentalise what it is you need to do and then pick one of the smaller goals. It’s easy to become overwhelmed when you know the numbers you face.”
“Compartmentalise?” I blurted. “It’s all out fucking war!”
“One moment,” said Bart before vanishing. He popped back in far less than a moment. “Ok, I’ve spoken to my supervisor. They’ll allow me to discuss the world just once. Would you like to do that with me now?”
These things were playing loose with their own rules. If they decided to stick rigidly to this one, I might regret using it too early. “Can I bank it for later?”
“Of course!”
“Ok, then that’s what I’ll do. I’m going to sit my arse back down in this chair and compartmentalise this shit.”
“As you wish,” Bart replied. “Will there be anything else?”
“Just… just keep an eye on my dog, will you? She’s never been away from me for this long before.”
“I’ll do that, Mark. Try and not worry about her. Trust me. And good luck!”
Good luck? I needed a bloody miracle. Left to my own devices I sank back into the chair, nursing my tea. The one thing I had in my favour that none of the people in the world did was my ‘immortality’. The very worst possibility was I could kill one orc at a time while dying myself. What was a few hundred thousand gruesome deaths between friends anyway? I knew I was being facetious and that it wasn’t worth entertaining, so I put my thinking cap on. There were only two logical targets; the massing orcs to the west and the barbarians at my back. Now that I had a way in to the orc camps, I could do some real damage to their hierarchy. The attack would probably end in my death, but I knew the greenskins were vulnerable to a crushing blow to their morale, so it was worth considering. Daulf and his ogre slaves on the other hand were like a knife whose point was gently pressing between two ribs, preparing for the fatal thrust. If I could stop them, the Dawnstar army would be able to consolidate their forces around the great wall and the citadels to the south-east.
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“Compartmentalise, eh?” I asked as the decision was made.
The task was no less daunting now we faced a mixed army of barbarians and ogres, but it was the logical choice. My quests updated with a new goal.
Quest – Defeat Daulf Bearbane and halt the advance of the barbarians (Main)
Description – The port city of Ishalon is soon to fall. Travel with all haste and destroy Daulf’s army.
Reward – Silver Boss Loot Box
+100 Reputation with Dawnstar Alliance
20 Realm Points
Up until that point I’d been feeling like a little boy, lost in a huge shop. Every aisle brooded over me menacingly, offering no hope while disinterested giants walked around me. With my new target, I could finally see my frantic mother appear at the end of the stacked cereals, running towards me with relief. Not that I had parents, but it’s how I felt.
I banished the chair, finished my cuppa, and headed back to Randulf. Scab was more cheerful than I’d ever seen him as he unlocked the dungeon door. I gave him five more coins to ensure he would have the mother of all hangovers and then another five to get some bread and water to the prisoners.
“They’re thieves an’ killers though,” he warned.
“And they’ll pay for that, Scab. Just do it for me, eh?”
He nodded eagerly and I left him to plot the means of his inebriation. I found Randulf and the commanders looking forlorn in the war room. Each man looked to have aged by a few years since I first met them.
“Did you enjoy talking to Godbert?” Randulf sneered. “I’m sure he was most forthcoming.”
“Not particularly, and you can sort your attitude out before I tell you what’s going to happen,” I replied, staring the marshal down.
“Apologies. I worry for what the future holds after the news you provided.”
“Apology accepted,” I said, moving to the table. “Now, I need to know if you have any more scouts who might be able to move in the forests and pick away at the orcs. We call it guerrilla warfare, I think. Hit and run, that kind of thing.”
“To what end?” Randulf demanded. “They would be massively outnumbered.”
“To slow their advance by a few days. I’m talking small parties of men capable of putting down any of their scouts or individual raiding parties. Your strikes will throw them into chaos and make them doubt their safety. Meanwhile, I’m going to take Sunlith and end the barbarian assault.”
“Just like that?” scoffed one of the men.
I stilled his tongue with a glare and turned my attention back to the marshal. “If we succeed, it means all of your attention can be focused on the two massing armies, correct?”
Randulf rubbed at his beard as he studied the map. “That might work. It would free up many hundreds, perhaps thousands of soldiers. Without the threat of an imminent attack on our flank, we would be all the stronger.” He slapped the table with excitement. “How do you propose to fight this barbarian horde?”
“However I can. Will I get the same welcome as I received here at all the stops between Pitchhollow and the port?”
“That was a mistake which I will always regret. You will be unmolested, you have my word. I’ll let the marshal of Port Ishalon, my brother, know what you are about.”
“Brother?”
“Theodoric Balchester. I know he will be grateful to have a hero on his side.”
“Let’s just hope I can pull it off then,” I replied. “If you need me, I’ll be drunk in one of the taverns. I need to have a bit of a chill before I head out for hell.”
“You’ve earned it, Mark. I’ve informed the vendors that they are to serve you as they would any other and that you have a discount on the goods.”
“Thanks, Marshal. I might see you down in the town for a pint later?”
The men all laughed. I didn’t.
“It has been long and long since I partook with the common folk,” he replied.
“Careful,” I warned. “Those common folk keep people like you fed. Show some gratitude.”
Randulf scowled at me. “Your ways are strange, Mark. We shall strive to be better.”
“Good man. Now I’m going to get wasted with my friends.”
I left my betters to their awkward silence, passing the door guards who tried their best to hide their glee at my dressing down of the marshal. As much as I had enjoyed it, I knew that it wouldn’t do me any good to alienate the man in charge of one third of the kingdom’s defence. Going forward, I’d try to be a little more respectful.
“That’s gonna be tough,” I sighed, jogging down the steps towards the exit.
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