Chapter 29

♪ Have You Ever Heard the Wolf Cry to the Blue Corn Moon? Part 2 ♪

I was panicking so much at the fear of going through God’s wrath again that I couldn’t create complete sentences. In my mind, I’d been begging, Yahweh, if you are willing, please rescue me, until the knight first leaped from the ramparts. But that one word was more than enough for the knight to understand the situation. He let out a tremendous roar that stopped the pursuing wolves in their tracks. At the same time, a yellow aura poured from his armor directly upwards, creating a beacon of some kind. Five other men decked out in full plate armor leaped over the wall the next moment as if he’d called for them with that beacon.

Sentry #1: “What’s the situation there eh, Cap’n?”

Sentry Captain: “This here poor guy’s being chased by a pack of [Forest Wolves]. Quite the number too.”

Sentry #1: “Really now? Bless his heart.”

It didn’t take any further dialog for the knights, guards, or whatever to move into a specific formation. Maybe this happens often? I was suddenly overcome with relief and dang near fainted after exerting too much energy just to get here. As my consciousness threatened to leave me, I hobbled closer to the gate just before it started to creek open.

Guard: “Hey, you. Over here! Get inside!”

You don’t have to ask me twice! I’d been trembling during my entire struggle forward. That thought never made it passed my lips, but I was delusional enough to think that it had. Alas, they remained thoughts as I wheezed so mightily that there was no room for vocal interaction. Of course, all thanks to sprinting for my life for what felt like miles on end.

I forced myself to collapse straight for the gate which continued to open as I fell under the archway. The sounds of dogs are starting to fade… thank Yahweh I made it. That was the last thought that went through my mind before my brain abandoned consciousness.

When I came to, I was laying on the ground with some old knight propping up my head to give me some water. The fatigue plaguing my lungs had dissipated a little but reminded me of the ordeal which still hadn’t ended. My throat was so dry that I incoherently muttered, “Wa-water…” Pain tore at my throat when I forced myself to breathe before turning my head towards the sight of several old men in suits of armor facing off with the wolves in three lines of five, sort of like a phalanx. More guards musta’ jumped in.

The [Forest Wolf]s showed no fear as they rushed at the wall of shields and spears. Some wolves went in with open maws, ready to chow down on the knights. But the spears met their fangs first as the fight began. Despite the guards’ excellent equipment, it was just a few against many. At that point, I’d had a liter of water and replenished enough energy to go back into the fray. W-wait! Where’s Masada?! I’d been in a light panic for only an instant before recalling that he was in the forest, no doubt unaffectable by any kind of danger. I slapped my face to get ahold of myself and started to stand while reaching into my robe to cover up my grimy [Billhook] as I withdrew it from my inventory.

But before I could even stand, someone grabbed me by the robes and pulled me to the ground.

Me: “Hey! Who the…? I need to go help them!”

Knight Healer: “I’m sorry, but no, you don’t. You’re going to sit right here.” I looked up and saw a haggard old elf with a thick, white beard and a big ol’ grin on his face that forced his eyes shut. Elves can grow beards. Noted. He was decked out in black armor with a maple leaf of gold on the chest. His gloves seemed to glow, and he had a small rod in hand if you could even call it that. The rod was very short. Not quite short enough to be a wand though. No helmet either, so I could easily tell that guy was OLD. Who is this dude? “Haha, you’ve got yourself some pretty quick feet there. You looked just like a brown squirrel as you scurried away from them monsters… Would you like a 2-4 while you wait? Maybe a double-double?” The knight was oddly nice while being forceful.

Me: “Huh?”

Knight Healer: “You know, a flat of beer or Timmy’s finest?

I stared at the knight blankly, having absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Those are definitely English words… but I have no idea what he means by a flat or ‘Timmy’s finest.’

Me: “Nevermind that, they need help! There’s gotta be close to one hundred wolves!” The Knight Healer and one other sentry posted next to him looked at each other and erupted into a torrent of snickers.

Other Sentry Guy: “You, you… pfft* don’t you think you were reacting a bit too strongly to some measly [Forest Wolf]s?”

Knight Healer: “Hmph… The man is right. What’re you worried aboat, eh? They’ve got it covered. You wouldn’t happen to be a traveling minstrel, eh?”

The healer’s attitude took a sharp turn. Did I offend him somehow? Meh, I can’t know yet. But is this not a big deal? It kinda seems like this sort of thing happens frequently enough… “If they don’t need help, why are the two of you ready for combat?”

Knight Healer: “Oh these are for you of course.”

At the same time that the healer spoke, the other sentry guy raised the tip of his spear to my throat with one hand. His other hand carried a large round shield much like the Spartans back on earth. Both of the knights became very serious before the Spartan Sentry said, “Don’t try anything funny. If it so happens that you’re a dangerous one that was just pretending to be a skittish little squirrel, we’ll most likely have to kill you. Understand your situation now?”

Ah, I get it. Those professional knights were sent to take care of the forest wolves and these two are here to keep an eye on me. Makes sense to be hesitant to trust the guy who brought a whole pack of monsters to the town gates.

Spartan Sentry: “Now, just sit quietly and hand over the nasty billhook you got there.”

Me: “I’m sorry about the trouble… Here, take it. I won’t move an inch. Just please don’t point that spear at me.”

Spartan Sentry: “As long as you get it, just keep your mouth shut unless spoken to and wait here until the knights finish cleaning up your mess.” The totally ripped sentry took my billhook and inspected the gnarly blade with disapproving eyes. “Did you seriously come through the [Forest of Wolves], ya know, [Beowulf]’s domain with just this?”

Me: “Of course not. But I was separated from my partner when the… when [Beowulf] I believe, pursued us. I grabbed that billhook off a goblin I killed before we got to the [Forest of Wolves].” I rolled my eyes in my mind and thought sarcastically, Very creative naming here.

Knight Healer: “And how’d you do that, eh?”

Me: “I used my partner’s skill to set the gob on fire with a nearby explosion.”

Knight Healer: “Does your partner happen to be your summoned monster?”

How did he find out? Did I say something wrong? I kept staring at him blankly with my mouth partly open, not exactly sure of how to respond.

Spartan Sentry: “We can see that you’re a summoner, lad. No need to get your gitch in a twist. But what kind of squirrel…”

Me: “Squirrel?”

Spartan Sentry: “Well, your hair is brown, isn’t it? And you’re cowardly like a baby squirrel. Fits perfectly.”

Back on earth, I remember getting to hold a baby squirrel after luring it into my hand with a Dorito. Baby Squirrels… their adorable little creatures, but he’s obviously meaning to insult me. During our short talk, the elven and human knights with kind-mannered temperaments annihilated all the [Forest Wolf]s. Apparently, they really aren’t something to worry about. I guess I can understand my new… nickname. Can’t tell if the standards here on Driscoll are high or if I’m just very weak, though.

The captain came straight over to me once he’d gotten a headcount to make sure none of his men were injured, which none were. They had no trouble dispatching the pack with a squad of spear-wielding troops.

Sentry Captain: “It’s been a long while since we last faced off with such a large pack. It’s just too tiresome to go oat-n’-aboat to hunt down the stragglers in the woods, you know?”

Huh? That’s a distinctly Canadian accent. No doat aboat it.

Me: “Thank you for saving me.” My eyes were cast downward in dejection when I realized how much of a burden I was, “and I’m terribly sorry for the trouble.” Thank you for rescuing me, Yahweh. You must’ve known exactly what I would need when I would need it and provided a way of escape before I died unnecessarily. “Without you and your people, I would be dead with my throat chomped out and my dying body drug back into the forest to be feasted on.” Before I had to experience the [Wrath of God] again.

Sentry Captain: “No problem. It’s not like you get attacked by an entire pack of [Forest Wolf]s all by yourself every day. I can’t imagine that anyone wouldn’t be shocked in that situation. Don’t forget to thank Eefyr and Neokles for healing you and making sure no stragglers got to you, yeah?”

So the Canadian healer elf is Eefyr and the spartan human is Neokles. “Thank you both. I’d probably still be completely drained of energy if it weren’t for you two.”

Neokles: “Bah, we were just bored.”

Eefyr: “The captain told us to anyway… Let’s go, Neokles.”

The two of them left after their cold statements, but the captain wouldn’t let my opinion of them get any lower, “They’re both good guys. Just not the best at expressing themselves. I take it Eefyr offered ya a double-double and you refused?”

Me: “Yeah, how’d you know?”

Sentry Captain: “Eefyr’s one of the kindest folks you’d ever meet until you turn down a brew. There’s a story there, but you should ask him yourself, eh? After you make amends, of course.”

Me: “And how would I go about that, Cap’n?”

Sentry Captain: “Goodness gracious, I’ve been terribly rude to you. My name is Syunir Faelyn. And you are?”

Me: “My name is Truck Coon of America, Sir Faelyn.”

Sir Faelyn: “I’m honored to make your acquaintance. I do beg your esteemed person forgiveness for my subordinate’s crass tongue. They shall be swiftly punished, I assure you.”

Woah. No more Canadian accent? I mean… I guess his tone should be expected. I more or less hinted that I’m a noble from some far-off land, and my hypothesis is definitely spot on. The whole region is a class-based society. “At ease captain. There’s no need to stand on ceremony. How could one call themselves nobility if they punished their saviors? I would be quite angry if either Eefyr or Neokles were punished in any way.”

‘Bling’

With a contented face that likely mislead the captain, I thought to myself, Noice! But before the captain could respond, I continued, “My Eidolon, Masada, is lodged in a boulder back in the woods. I must go retrieve him.”

Sir Faelyn: “Certainly, shall I accompany you, my lord?”

Me: “If you don’t have any other pressing duties to attend to, then please, by all means.” Glad I learned polite speech. Ain’t no icicle’s chance in Gehenna I could pose as nobility with my southern drawl.

We started out the still open gate and made our way into the forest when I remembered to ask, “What was it you were going to tell me I could do to reconcile with Eefyr?”

Sir Faelyn: “Ah yes. Simply ask him to make a double-double. His trust in you would be completely restored with that much.”

Yeeeaaah there’s no way there ISN’T a backstory there. “I shan’t forget. If you would be so kind, I’d like to reconcile with him upon our return to Shalanor. I dislike leaving a bad impression on someone who helped to save my life.”

Sir Faelyn: “Of course, milord. Forgive me for my imposition, but I am unaware of the customs of… America.”

Me: “I am no lord yet, but please refer to me with whatever traditions you practice here, for I am but a visitor. It would be ghastly to impose my own customs on another’s land. If this is of no aid to you, Sir Coon would be more than adequate since I am not currently the heir.” I’m making all kinds of half-baked truths based on how I think he’d attach meaning to my words… No lies though, so that’s fine, right? I need to get in with the higher-ups in Shalanor to warn Lyra of the impending attack, as much as I hate politics. And I’m pretty sure God blessed Rahab the prostitute for lying to protect the Israeli spies that had been investigating Jericho in the bible.

It didn’t take long to reach the spot where Masada had blown away the wolves. “Kururu! Kuru ruru!” Masada started to sob when he saw me. Overcome with happiness that I’d survived completely unharmed. I ran over to him, none of the noble dignity that I’d been articulating lasting under my own joy that he hadn’t been harmed or taken by [Beowulf] either. My arms were tightly wrapped around his furry portion while at the same time I stroked the spine of his blade. “There, there. We’re both safe now. There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

Sir Faelyn was bewildered at the sight of an enormous Greatswordstaff crying large water droplets while creating a sound akin to a vibrating sob. The water droplets made slightly audible splash sounds as they hit the moss.

The boulder Masada was in was familiarly labeled [Orichalcum]. There’s… no way… That golem couldn’t possibly have… No. No. Not gonna go there. “Let’s get you out of here buddy.” But when I tried to pull him from the orichalcum boulder, he wouldn’t budge. Hmm, I looked back at Sir Faelyn and back to Masada. Then back and forth before I came to a decision. I guess there ain’t much I can do here. Let’s just get this over with… And the boulder disappeared into my ring while I held Masada like I was holding a feather.

Sir Faelyn stood there with his mouth open so wide a passenger plane could have flown threw it. Once I’d turned toward him and said, “Shall we be off?” his senses returned to him, and he didn’t even ask what’d happened.

Back at the Shalanor gate, Sir Faelyn ordered the sentry to open the gates and we made our way to a place called the [Knight’s Station]. I had to be registered and granted a visitor’s passport similar to the [Valleyport] entry process. Just had to pay a couple [Silver], which I didn’t have so the thoughtful captain covered my bill. His understanding of the extenuating circumstance I was in won me enough pity to earn me a pass.

After I’d been officially accepted into Shalanor, Sir Faelyn insisted, “Now that formalities have been taken care of, I’m sure a person of your caliber would like to get cleaned up.”

I still had rotten [Guavo Fruit] smeared all over my beautifully made [Robe of the Scholar]. No other word could possibly describe my smell better than rancid. In response to his offer, I lifted my arms and looked down at my body, “I suppose you are quite right. I can’t possibly present myself to the little lady Avacyn in such a state.”

Sir Faelyn: “Ah, so you are here for the ball. Curious for one such as yourself to take an interest in a promenade for little lady Shalanor.”

Me: “Regretfully, I am not. I’ve urgent news regarding little lady Avacyn who is to attend little lady Shalanor’s party. I’d like to speak to the captain of her caravan immediately.”

From the perspective of Lucerne:

That was my first interaction with the top-rank adventuring party in Valleyport, Oath of Fortune.

Maybe because I looked at him with an expressionless face, or because of what I said, he yelled at me loud enough that his voice cracked, “Answer me! My mum wouldn’t just back away with such a fright for no reason!”

My brows became angled to express my growing annoyance. “Put me down,” I said with an unpleasant tone, which I think is a perfectly reasonable response. I don’t recall doing anything that might connect me to their party, negatively or positively.

Young Man: “Stop whining and just answer your elder!”

Huh? There’s no way this kid is more than a year or two older than me. And it’s plain as day that his mental age is abysmally lower than mine.

Me: “If that’s your attitude, should I treat you as an enemy? This is your last chance, put me down.” I understood that this person has no ability to socially interact, and I silently reached up to grab his forearm.

Young Man: “Stop ignoring me and answer!”

But just as I put power into my grip to crush the guy’s arm, his mother thankfully answered his unreasonable question for me, “He genuinely did nothing, Caden! I was only surprised when I saw him. Release him immediately!” And with that said, she had no patience to wait for him to comply and bonked him on the head with the stone at the end of her staff. It made a hollow *Pong* sound that was heard throughout the strategy room. Most adventurers in the room cringed back at the resounding bong made by a blunt weapon hitting a skull.

Young Man: “Gah! Mother, why? He must have done something to make you back away like- OUCH! WAHH! Mummy! Please stop- AAHHH- beating me!”

Once her parental rage had subsided, she gripped her son by the scruff of his neck and forced him to the floor to beg for my forgiveness.

From the perspective of the mother:

Me: “Boy, we are the A-ranked party [Oath of Fortune]. My name is Whinry, and this here is lamentably my son. I am ashamed to have witnessed such atrocious behavior from him towards you. We beg your forgiveness and after the meeting, we would like to treat you to a meal of your choosing.” There’s no mistake, that boy was about to destroy Caden’s arm with a single hand. Such immense SP… and no class? I can’t help but pity such a young boy. To endure what is necessary to reach such a feat by his age can’t be anything but a tragedy…

Thankfully, the boy responded compassionately, “I see. Something should really be done about his dreadful personality. But as his parents, I’ll leave it to you.”

My husband is apparently getting a kick out of Caden’s little spat. I suppose it can’t be helped though. I’m the only one with the skill [Size Up]. “Thank you for your reasonable response. Although it would be perfectly acceptable for you to crush his arm like I’m sure you were about to do, you chose to let it go… As his mother, I am very grateful.”

From the perspective of Lucerne:

Oh my. This mother looks visibly shaken. She seems terrified… “Think nothing of it. I will be taking you up on your meal offer though.” The guy bad-mouthing me couldn’t say another word, probably because he was too busy sobbing in pain.

The young man’s mommy, Whinry, excitedly lifted her head with a happy expression, “Of course! We would be happy to oblige.”

The boy’s father, on the other hand, looked more like a kid trying his hardest to hold back a laugh. When he noticed my glance, he introduced himself, “Aye. We sure would be. I’m Kraft, the previously mentioned atrocious boy’s father as well as Whinry’s husband.”

He seemed better mannered than his previous snickers made him appear, so I treated him politely as well, “My name is Lucerne.”

Kraft: “Lucerne? That’s all you got for an intro, huh? How about your favorite drink? Or who’s your favorite receptionist?”

Whinry’s face scrunched into a scowl and gripped her staff to bonk her lecherous husband on the head too.

PONG*