Day 25: Allies?

After the tyrannosaurus left last night we went to sleep. What else could we do? It didn't seem likely that it would come back the same night, if it was full. So as the newly wounded were set up with a new sick tent (far from the site of the remains of the old one), man and goblin alike stretched out under the stars and got some much-needed rest.

This morning was chaos. Grens fought with the chief over healing any more beast men, and the rest of us gathered just past the edge of camp to talk strategy.

"Most important question first," I said. "Tallow, did you know we were here to recruit these things?"

"How would I have delivered a message if I didn't know the message?"

"I can think of a few ways."

Tallow snorted. "Yeah Captain, I knew."

"You need to share that kind of info," Gunther chimed in.

Tallow shrugged. "Didn't seem relevant."

"It's fucking relevant, Tallow." That was me.

"Yeah well, I guess the Count didn't think so, right?"

"Or maybe somebody else didn't think so."

"Cap, you are one paranoid dirt farmer. You gotta drop this!"

Gunth looked confused. "What does he mean, Roger?"

Now it was my turn to shrug. "It's not--"

Tallow broke in. "Not relevant, right?"

"Fuck you."

"No, no, I think you need to get your head straight about this one, Captain DarkeSworde. The Count told me what he told me. Obviously he didn't tell you. I don't know why you were left out, and I don't care. Because when the most important guy in 200 miles tells me to keep secrets, I don't go around gabbing it. I don't hate life that much."

We all kind of sat in silence for a moment after that. Tallow had a point. Like always. Whenever he does something sneaky he's got some seamless logical explanation for it--but I still don't trust the guy.

Gunther broke the silence. "Seriously, what was he talking about, Roger?"

I sighed and struggled for a way to say it. "Don't you... Don't you ever find yourself acting strange?"

Blank stare.

"Like, doing things you didn't want to do? Like someone is forcing your hand?"

Still no response.

I kept going. "Ever since we got PC'd it's like there's some evil gods-damned force controlling me!"

Tallow whistled. "Cra-zy."

That got Gunther to speak up. "No. No, he ain't crazy." All eyes turned to the big man with the big sword. "I know what he means."

I almost laughed with relief. "You do!"

"Yeah, but it's not evil. I mean--is yours evil?"

That stopped my elation pretty quickly. "Yes. I mean, I don't know. Isn't taking away my free will evil? And--"

"Whoa, Roger, you're looking at this wrong. Haven't you ever heard the stories? We're fuckin' PC's! We're going to get rich and become famous and everyone will love us!"

Tallow broke in. "Yeah, or get killed."

Gunther shrugged. "Maybe, but I knew that risk the first time I picked up a sword. At least now we get something to look forward to."

I couldn't believe it. "Are you really saying you don't mind this? What about that bear? We slaughtered that thing for no reason!"

"Nah, it would've tried to eat us."

"No! No it wouldn't!"

"What're you, some kind of witch? You talk to bears now?"

I sighed another deep, sad sigh. I didn't bother to bring up the verbal abuse we dished out when we were acting as "PC's". Instead I looked at him right in the eye.

"So Gunther, you like it, huh?"

"Sure."

"You really like being a PC?"

He seemed nervous. "Yeah. I mean, if somebody's gonna get it, might as well be me, right?"

"Then how come in all this time you never once mentioned that thing controlling you?"

Gunther sputtered and looked away.

Before I could press my point, the very ill omen we'd been speaking of descended around us again. As that you're-being-truly-watched feeling settled over me, I saw Tallow and Gunther sort of sit up a little bit. We all knew something was up, and looked back toward camp.

Coming toward us was Grens, the chief, and the tall hostage from the night before. O yeah, turns out that guy is the chief's brother. They greeted us with stoney silence and we returned the welcome.

"Your man here has been kind to our wounded," explained the chief. "And the two-sworded one showed great bravery. I suppose, in human culture, I would owe you something."

We just continued staring at him.

"I don't care much for your ways," he said after a pause. "But I am willing to contract further with you."

"Such a sweetheart," muttered Tallow.

"My men and I are going after the beast from last night. There's a clear trail of blood leading into the woods. So I offer you a deal: help us slay the beast and we'll come fight for your king."

"Count," Gunther corrected.

The chief flashed us a fanged smile. "And I'm no chief, hole-of-butt."

We all looked at each other. Where in the gods' beloved world did this guy learn his Common?

"Look Chief, or whatever," said Tallow. "That thing is gone for now, and too deadly to go after. Let's just leave it and head to Frankton."

"No. You heard my offer."

"You have some kind of honour-thing about this? Some kind of vendetta?"

The chief rolled his eyes. "If we leave him be he'll only keep following us. We won't live all the way to your city."

"You don't know that," I objected.

"Yeah? So what, you wanna take the risk?"

"What risk? It's your men he keeps preying on. We shouldn't have come last night."

"But you did, and now he has your scent. And a very particular wound. I don't have a vendetta. He might."

We were all quiet. It was true. As if to narrate our thoughts, the chief continued speaking. "Think about it. Right now he's hurt and there are many of us. We track him, maybe catch him while he is sleeping. We can kill him. If we go our different ways each of our groups is weaker. He can lick his wounds, rest up, and follow our trails."

"Chief," I said. "We're gonna need a minute."

"A what?"

I shook my head. "Let us alone for a while, okay? We have to talk."

He said something in goatspeak and left us.

Before he could turn away, I continued speaking. But now in my loud, puffed-up, assholey voice. "Chief, we will help you vanquish this monster. But you must not only join the honourable Count Yank's army, you must also help us in a small matter on the way."

The others looked at me, surprised but not surprised. The chief seemed quite amused. "You feeling okay, human?"

He looked at me and I looked at him. "Do you accept?"

"What's this 'small matter'?"

"The matter of a Master Argon."

The hobgoblin almost looked pale, I mean, for a monster. "Pushwa!" he cursed softly. I grinned.