Once Lady Inlas finished her tale, I felt numb. I thought my circumstances were bad back then, but were nothing compared to what Pearl went through at the beginning. Then again, she was always a fighter, never giving up even against insurmountable odds. I downed my tea. “Let’s get back to it, we’re wasting time.” Lady Inlas nodded and rose beside me. “Very well, prepare yourself. This will get tougher from here on out.”

I don’t know how much time passed until I regained my senses this time. The dreamy, distant detachment made time irrelevant. But then after effects hit me like a speeding truck. I collapsed onto my knees, while my arms could barely hold me up. “Impressive. I would have expected that you’d collapse from that, as I put your body through a rather strenuous and lengthy exercise this time.”

I tried to respond, but I couldn’t do anything but gasp. A marathon? That felt like a joke compared to how tired I was now. Inlas sat down in front of me and pressed a cup of tea to my lips. “A few simple sips now. Take it slow.” Her voice was gentle and warm. As I sipped down the rejuvenating tea, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a warm energy seeped in from the point of contact.

“What were you thinking, Inlas? Any longer and she might’ve slipped into a coma, or worse. How long did you use her as a vessel?” The voice was deep and steady, with a strength of conviction behind it that made me feel childish just listening to it. In front of me, through an unfocused and blurry vision, I could see Inlas look down. “30 hours of hard use, I got carried away during the training regiment and lost track of time. Which is why I asked you to come because I knew I screwed up.” Her face turned red as she looked at whomever was holding my shoulder, and I could imagine whomever she was looking on shaking their head.

“Again, you are as reckless as always. Still, this goes to show this child has a remarkable resilience, less has broken most.” The hand gave me a gentle pat. “She’ll be fine now, but no more training for a few hours. She needs time to rest, doctors’ orders.” Inlas rose and walked past me. “Very well. Take care, my beloved, and thank you.” I could hear a kiss, then felt a sudden warm breeze. “Sorry about that, Erika. Medino is right, I was too reckless.” Since I regained some strength, I staggered to my feet. “That’s fine, just gotta take a quick break, right?”

I looked over at Inlas and with my vision clearing, noticed for the first time that she was crying. How much of a close call was it for Inlas to react like that? Hmm, considering how distraught she looked, it might be better not to ask. She didn’t answer my question and instead gestured towards a comfortable chair, and before I could even process the gesture, my body floated over and plopped down on it. “You’re not moving from that chair for a while. Medino is right. I need to take better care of you. Heavens know I get too carried away when I get into things.”

I considered arguing, but decided against it. Medino was quite stern with Inlas, and she herself seemed resolute about it. Besides, sitting here… felt… quite nice. Inlas put a hand on my shoulder and held up her other hand, which glowed with a pleasant golden glow. “Just relax for now.” I didn’t even notice my eyes closing as I fell into a divinely induced sleep.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The march through the chilly night wasn’t improving my mood, but we were here, the festival encampment. That thrice damned ram better have a fantastic explanation for his actions, or I would to kill him. I owed Ursus’ tribe a debt from when they helped da kids. If that meant I would have to lop off this Surrion’s head to settle it, then all the better. I needed to hurt something to let go of my agitation and these Herbmaster fellas seemed to volunteer.

“Boss, ye’re doin’ that [Bloodlust] thing again.” I glanced over my right shoulder, Argil, my right hand Duergar had taken up position right behind me, anticipating a fight, no doubt. I turned my attention to my arms, and indeed, I was leaking blackish-crimson wisps of energy. Ugh, the skill was impressive in a fight as it made enemies afraid, or could even knock people out, if I let out a strong enough burst. However, it reacted to my mood and could activate on its own if it got murderous enough. And it didn’t help that it amplified such feelings when active.

Movement from the camp interrupted my contemplation. Took em long enough. We’d been in sight of the damn place for almost an hour, yet they didn’t even send anyone out to verify who we were until we were at charging distance. Did this Surrion have no tactical capability at all? Then again, the Herbmasters were predominately pharmacists and farmers, according to our beast-kin companions.

That aside, letting about a hundred Duergar and nearly two dozen war golems into charge range meant they weren’t expecting trouble. Or they were so overconfident in their position that they thought such numbers irrelevant. A mistake only fools or amateurs would make.

When I considered Surrion’s idea of a coup was to imprison a bear beast-kin instead of outright killing him. And do so by subterfuge rather than combat. I placed him in the first camp. Either way, Surrion was living on borrowed time. If I didn’t kill him during our meeting, Ursus would, once he got out.

Every time someone put a beast-kin into a cage, the result was always lots of blood spilled once they got back out. You’d think Surrion, a bast-kin himself, would remember this, but either he was just stupid, or crazy. Even beast-kin jail cells didn’t have any bars on them, to ensure they didn’t view their confinement as a cage.

We made our way towards the approaching group of Beast-Kin without breaking our stride. Our ordered columns were a stark contrast to this disorganized mob. There was no discipline among them. Heck, half of ‘em weren’t even armed. The leader of the mob, an old withered ram beast-kin put up a smug look as we came to a halt in front of the mob.

“Ah Duergar welcome, welcome. I am Surrion, the leader of this encampment. It pleases me you would decide to help us, your neighbors out in our hour of need. If you follow Silbrek I am certain that we -” Before he could say another word, my bloodlust flared up again, silencing him and made him take a step back in terror.

“Stuff yer face Sheepy, I’m not here fer you, I’m here to talk ta Ursus and see if I can help him out ta settle a debt I owe him, and from what I hear, ye got him locked up in a cage like a beast.” My voice had a grating, stone-like rumble to it, like it was spoken by something far larger and more… primal than I.

Upon hearing it, every Duergar made enough space to be outside the reach of my sword. The last time I sounded like that, was just before I lost it when Sarirrva pinned my beloved Yun-Yun. She still carried the scar from that attack to this day. Sure, only Yun-Yun was present at the fight itself, but she told the lads about it afterwards.

Surrion didn’t have such a warning, and the fool got even closer to me now, his initial fright fading in response to my accusations. By now, the lads were fanning out into a semicircle far behind me, and the other beast-kin, sensing the impending doom their leader was oblivious to, kept their distance from him.

“Ursus is where he belongs, Duergar. This is where I am in charge. The ruler is me. I am the greatest chief of all the beast-” There was a flash of crimson, a sudden rushing of wind and the rambling beast-kin fell silent. Then he collapsed onto the ground, his head severed from his shoulders with such a fine cut, he didn’t even begin bleeding before he hit the ground.

He was not within range of a regular sword swing, he was almost 5 meters away, which meant he thought himself safe. However, that distance to the semicircle wasn’t for show, it was my attack range. They cleared out to ensure they wouldn’t get caught in my techniques should I decide to go on the offensive.

They could not see it, but I unsheathed my sword and swung it in a singular fluid motion, unleashing a wave of crimson energy in doing so. It was this energy that so neatly parted Surrion’s head from his neck and caused a crimson flash as it dissipated.

As he fell to the ground, I looked up at the mob. “Anyone else who feel like gettin’ in ma way? Or will ye clear out and fetch Ursus? I am fine with either option. In fact, in ma current mood, I wouldn’t mind ye all puttin’ up a fight at all.” The mob looked at me, their dead leader, the lads, then finally the war golems that towered over all of them. Then, they rushed back in, while shouting got the gates to be thrown wide open and for Ursus to be released. So, they weren’t all as stupid as their leader. Good, I would work with that.

As we stepped inside the encampment, there was a bit of a scuffle happening between two of the beast-kin, both rams. I couldn’t hear what they argued about. Before one of the two, a ram beast-kin about twice my size marched towards us with an enormous axe, bigger than I was, over his shoulders. “Did you just murder my chief in cold blood?” This one was different, not meek or undisciplined. If he had been out with the mob, they probably would have fought back.

“Aye, I did. The fool locked Ursus up in a cage, and I owe Ursus a debt. Ye think I won’t slaughter this entire encampment to repay it?” He eyed me for a few seconds. Then took a step back, out of my way. “I don’t doubt for a second, that you can do so, alone even. If I’m being honest, the entire tribe thought Sarrion’s actions were madness. But once you’re the Chief, you’re the Chief for life, we couldn’t go against him, not here.” He bowed his head and motioned for us to keep moving.

Right, the Festival grounds were supposed to be a place of no hostility between the tribes, and their Chief had violated that. However, for the same reason, it was impossible for his tribe to act against his madness. “Then there are no hard feelings, right?” He shook his head. “None.”

As I left, I could see at the edge of my vision, he deflated. It took all his courage and will to stand straight while being bombarded by my [Bloodlust]. An impressive feat for such a young man. I would have to suggest to Ursus that he should nominate the kid as the new chief. Quite a brave lad, and he possessed a better sense of honor than the rest of those spinless sheep. Not to mention the strength of will and instinct to realize when he was outmatched, yet still keep a level head.

It took a while, but eventually, I met Ursus. “Heh, you’ve grown since the last time we met. Wasn’t more than a wee lad back then.” Ursus’ lips twitched. “Perhaps, but I was still twice your size.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Aye, and now yer almost 4 times, if not taller. Anyhow, I’m not here to reminisce about my last visit to yer tribe. How’s da kids?” As I spoke, my jovial expression turned dead serious.

Sensing my mood changing, Ursus also got serious and began talking. It took a while to finish everything. By then I was deep in a tankard of a rather sweet drink the tribesmen called Imlu. It was a tribal recipe they didn’t share with outsiders, but the taste was great. The only downside was the complete lack of alcohol. I wanted to get drunk, but their nomadic lifestyle didn’t allow such luxuries, and we didn’t bring any for the march.

“Sounds like they’re having quite the adventure, all right. Bah, those damn invaders. Tell ye what, lad, I’ll help ye out. Those accursed invaders tried to hurt ma kid. Well, I’ll show them just how unwise that decision was. No one, and I mean NO ONE, lays hands on my family and get away with it, not even if it was Lady Labyrinthia herself!” My [Bloodlust] and anger exploded out in a massive pulse that sent the large leather canvas of the tent, yurt? Flying.

I regained my senses almost immediately. “Sorry bout that, lost ma cool for a bit. I need a drink to calm ma ire, or spill some more blood, got the possibility of either?” Ursus nodded. “It’s not much nor strong, but I have a bottle of elven wine.” Ugh, grape juice, not ma favorite, but... “It’ll do.” I finished the bottle in record time, didn’t even get drunk, damn resistances. But it took the edge off. Besides, I had better things to do than get angry. After all, a good Duergar never just got angry… they got even. And I would have my revenge yet, or my name wasn’t Granite Ironheart.