As Glenn walked through the valley of the shadow of death, he took a look at his life and realized that it was utterly fucking ridiculous. And more than a little sad.
The strange grippli and his friends (old and new) were currently adventuring through the cave below, likely killing whatever opposed them in some over-the-top manner. Glenn had waited for a time but then decided to venture away from the Hope Spring’s remains and take a walk through Trunau. All while still holding Kermit’s things.
There were so many corpses. Orc and human. Few of them were children but Glen spotted one or two as he passed. Kermit and the others had managed to save the majority of them from the assassins and the bear-woman. They were likely all still back at the barricade, along with Chief Halgra and the remaining guards. Glenn glanced toward the horizon. He spotted the wall. Orcs were no longer crawling over it like agitated, green ants and their catapults had ceased launching boulders into the city. Cries of rage and pain and woe still pierced the air from time to time, but it was usually only one voice as opposed to dozens-No. Hundreds. This had not been a mere raid. This was the definitive battle of a war that stretched through generations. Whoever ruled these orcs desperately wanted ownership of the town and, likely more desperately, whatever treasure lay locked away beneath the Hope Spring. There was still the chance that Kermit and his band would fail, or that somehow the orcs would manage to slip away with the prize. Yet, as far as today’s battle went, the citizens of Trunau had come out of it traumatized but triumphant.
There are going to be so many bodies to burn, Glenn thought mildly. Enough to light up the sky for a few long nights…
He turned a corner and was nearly knocked over by a pair of battered and bloody but grinning guards. The twitchy one, Wildfire, was tossing an orc’s skull between his hands, a wick poking out of one of the orc’s gauged eye sockets. And then there was the beautiful one, Douglas, who Glenn couldn’t understand to save his life. He babbled incoherently while gazing upon his reflection in his kukri. They spotted Glenn, their eyes glazed over slightly, and they kept on walking past him.
It was okay. Glenn was used to being ignored.
It made the job easier.
During his adventures with Kermit, Valbrand, and Rodd Rigez, he could count the number of monsters or villains that harmed him on one hand/wing, and even then it was usually only by accident. Either they fell on top of him after being struck dead, or he was hit by shrapnel from an explosion or a stray arrow or bullet. Yet his injuries were never serious enough to impede him from continuing to carry Kermit’s things.
That wasn’t to say he was always ignored. Friendlies would interact with him from time to time, usually children.
Glenn continued to wander through the blood-stained streets. The sky was already beginning to fill with buzzards. Their squawky chorus replaced any dying screams or roars from either side of the conflict. Every orc had either made a run for it, been captured, or finally succumbed to their wounds. Glenn doubted Trunau’s guards would treat their bodies with as much respect and care as their fallen comrades.
He passed by the Killing Grounds. He poked his head through the front doors. Most of the corpses were still in the same corner where, with Valbrand’s help, Jazier had stacked them. The only one missing was the tiniest one. The female goblin Lucky Days had instinctively killed. Glenn vaguely wondered if the second goblin had come back to retrieve his comrade’s body. Though he did detect the faintest scent of brimstone in the air. He’d caught whiff of it before but couldn’t for the life of him remember where…
Oh well. He decided to start heading on back to the cave. On his way he passed a great, blood-red mastiff. It sat on its haunches up on a nearby roof, gazing off towards the horizon. The sun had finally begun to set upon this nightmare. Yet the dog did not ignore Glenn. Instead it forced direct eye contact with him. Glenn’s bland face showed no reaction. He simply nodded and continued on his way. If he had bothered to look back, he’d have seen that the dog had already vanished. But he didn’t.
By the time he reached the cave again, Kermit and the others were climbing out, all covered in mud and blood. All except Jazier, whose clothes were somehow impeccably clean. He was holding and studying some kind of precious stone that glowed faintly in the dim light of dusk. “So weird, bro,” he murmured to himself, the stone’s light reflecting off his glazed eyes.
“His fixation on the gem seems…unhealthy,” the cleric, Qumeel, commented out of the corner of his mouth to Gwen.
“If it helps him figure out why that bastard Skreed was after it, I’m not gonna take it away,” she said tiredly. She then added under her breath, more out of wariness than outright spite, “Let him be useful for once.”
Gwen turned to Lucky Days, who was discussing her performance down in the cave with her “coach”. “Still got enough in you to run on ahead and inform Chief Halgra about what we found?” she asked. “And to see if she can afford to send us some guards to meet us halfway? Specifically Omast if she can spare him.”
“You got it!” Lucky Days declared happily. She raced past Glenn with such speed and force that he was sent spinning on the heel of his left, webbed foot.
While his eyes kept spinning in his head, and he forced the slightest bit of vomit back down, he heard Valbrand say to Rodd Rigez approvingly, “Tiny. But fierce!” Glenn got his eyes back under control and saw that the large man was holding a new, if plain-looking hammer in his right fist.
“Heh,” Rodd Rigez said. “Girl didn’t start getting good until I put her on a very specific workout regime.”
“Oh really? And what’s that?”
“One-hundred pushups. One-hundred sit-ups. One-hundred squats. And,” here Rodd Rigez raised a fist in pride, “a two-hundred kilometer run. Every. Day.”
While Valbrand laughed, Kurst frowned at Rodd Rigez. He then leaned over past Qumeel and asked his cousin, “He’s not serious, is he?”
Gwen considered it. “Knowing these people….Yes. Yes, he totally is.” She regarded her cousin. “You okay?”
“No,” he said honestly. “Couldn’t save Rodrik. Or Father. But-”
“But you avenged Rodrik and definitely made Uncle Jagrin proud, Kurst,” Gwen finished fiercely.
Kurst didn’t look very convinced but he nodded in agreement nonetheless.
These people all saw Glenn but the second they looked away, he was out of sight out of mind. All except for one.
“Hello, Glenn,” Kermit said pleasantly as he walked over to him. The Guyver was currently inactive. He might as well have been just another grippli. “Today sure was an exciting day. Everybody did their part though.” Kermit took a moment to seemingly gather his thoughts before saying sagely, “When we reach out, we bloom and make this world a more beautiful place to live in. Don’t you agree, Glenn?”
Glenn considered it. And then nodded.
He then trailed behind Trunau’s unconventional new heroes, content to simply watch for now and, like always, carry Kermit’s things.
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