Harry Shearer, of Simpsons fame, once famously said, “I am one of those people who thrive on deadlines, nothing brings on inspiration more readily than desperation.”   I must say, it’s interesting if nothing else. 

We had one night to finish everything we would need for the assault on the giants’ stronghold.  We had the mortars and machine guns, of course, but those were now knowns for the enemy.  I had to assume they would be ready to counter them, so that meant I had to have other plans.  I had fabricated a number of options, but our biggest plan B lay with the work we had done to the carts.  But we had to finish them first.  The deadline loomed. 

I sang pony songs as we worked because my workshop, that’s why.  Well, Fleur sang with me, but no one else could hear her.  And she’s me, so I guess technically my original statement still holds.  That’s it.  I’m seeing a psychiatrist first thing when I get back.

After today, maybe I could officially add PTSD to my list of conditions to talk with him about.

I tried not to think about it as I worked.  Perhaps a little too hard.  I ended up humming the tune to Narwhals for about an hour before someone complained.

Despite all of my worry, we finished what we needed to do.  The last step was to upload specialized copies of my VI into the carts and hope that everything would work out.  I mean, they should work fine.  I designed them.  But no plan ever survives contact with the enemy, even when it’s Plan B.

So it was good that I’d prepared Plans C through H.  Each was more horrible than the last and several would need to be censored if I ever released this journal back home if I wanted to stay out of a war crimes trial.  But the important part was that I could whip them up quickly as needed, with only a few of them requiring pre-preparation.

This would be simpler if I could Fabricate plutonium.  But I can’t.  Yes, I tried.  Well, that’s a lie.  I can Fabricate plutonium, but the quantities I can get per cast are so ridiculously small that I’d be looking at months, or perhaps even years before I had enough to make a single weapon.  Same goes for enriched uranium.

Depleted uranium, on the other hand?  That I could get if I needed it.  It just wasn’t as valuable, which somehow meant it was easier to make.  I don’t get it. But believe me, if we come across some kind of adamantine golem, I’m making depleted uranium shells.  Not that this was really likely to be helpful with today’s work.  So we’d call that Plan U.

We Earthlings have a whole history of very inventive solutions for the age old problem of how to kill each other.  To abuse another quote from home: “War. War never changes.  Since the dawn of human kind, when our ancestors first discovered the killing power of rock and bone, blood has been spilled in the name of everything: from God to justice to simple, psychotic rage.”

My people have been killing each other for millennia.  It would be laziness of the highest magnitude if we hadn’t at least gotten good at it in the process.  Back at Sandpoint, we gave the giants a glimpse of that brutal efficiency.  Today, at Jorgenfist, they would learn just how good we were at it.

This would be so much easier if I had the facilities I really needed.  Thankfully, I can shortcut with magic, but there’s a limit to just how much of that I can do each day, and I’ve only recently gotten good enough to really crank that up to eleven.

What I need are factories crafting composite materials, mines gathering what I need to make those necessary materials by the truckload, paved roads or railways to deliver what I need en masse.  I need whole workshops of college educated engineers to put together what I’m designing.  What I have is magicite, four people trained in crafting magical constructs and nearly a dozen temporary robot helpers in addition to a smattering of technology equivalent to somewhere between the twelfth and sixteenth centuries. 

When I leave, I won’t be leaving behind a tech revolution.  What I’ll leave behind is a number of artifacts and perhaps some innovative ideas someone might use to craft new magic items that mimic some of my technological devices.  Heck, the longer technological legacy I’ll leave is likely to be from my efforts to speed along technological evolution through the Voidstrife organization, and all I’ve been doing there is focusing on jumping tech roughly five years for every one to slowly build the tools society needs to build the infrastructure I’ll need to build the tools I need to build the tools society needs to build the infrastructure I’ll need… and so on and so forth.

If this whole Thassilon thing fails to provide a way home, I’m fairly certain I could now build a ship capable of getting Aurora and me safely to Castrovel in about three years using a combination of Earth tech, alien tech from the guide and a few of my own innovations.  I’m sure that if an MP3 player was enough to buy a trip home that I have something valuable enough to buy a copy of the spell itself for my spellbook.

I do have that screen I made and did put a few hours of pornography on my new MP3 player, after all.  And if that fails, maybe I could build the wizard an entire central air conditioning system for his home powered exclusively by magitech batteries.  After all, there is no pleasure, no rapture, no exquisite sin greater than central air.

So, in the end, finding a way home is no longer the priority it once was.  I’ve actually more or less got that sorted.  Finding a faster way is still a goal, but for now I just need a way to survive til then and finish what I’ve started.

So, to war I will go. 

I finished what I could and went to lay down for sleep.  Aurora was waiting for me.  “Can I get your help?” she asked.

“Sure,” I replied.  “What do you need?”

“Help me out of my armor?”  It seemed dangerous this close to the enemy fortress, but I figured she might need to make use of the camp’s crude facilities, so I didn’t say anything.  “Okay, lay down,” she said once we were done.

“Huh?”

“You need your sleep and I need to not hear you whimpering so I can sleep.  So lay down.”  Ah, so that was it.  I did as I was told and she laid down next to me, her head on my chest.  I must have been pretty tired, as I fell asleep almost immediately.

My dream that night was pretty weird. 

“YOU KIDNAPPED A NOBLEMAN’S DAUGHTER?!” I screeched in a strangely musical soubrette.  “What the hell is wrong with you, Cedwin?!”

The half elf before me looked ashamed.  “It all went to pot.  They wouldn’t surrender.  I tried to knock the lord out, but I hit too hard and cracked his skull.  The mother attacked me with a knife and Talfryn shot her before I could react.  After that, with the remaining staff scattered, we didn’t want to leave her for bandits, so we brought her with us.”

Curse him.  He had a point.  “Okay, that’s understandable.  Mistakes were made, but you did the best you could.  I’ll find a way to figure this out.”

“I knew you’d understand.”  He turned to leave, then suddenly stopped.  He took a deep breath and turned to me again.  “She wants to meet you.”

“Oh?”  I raised an eyebrow dangerously.  I could already tell I wasn’t going to like this.

“Since you’re head of the family, she feels it’s her obligation to do so.”

“Ced?  What did you do?!”

“It was her idea.”

“Ced?!”

“It’s not my fault.”

“CED?!”

“We, uh, got married.”

I tried to scream at him, but I couldn’t.  I had gone so far past angry that it had become hilarious.  I just fell to the floor laughing.  My brother, the idiot, just stared at me, certain that when I was done, I was going to turn him into a newt.

But I had other plans.  Yes, this could work.  It would cost us some allies, but what was done was done.  Those allies were gone.  No, I had to simply adapt.  And I would certainly adapt.

The black knight had a long season ahead of him.

I woke up confused, with Aurora looking at me.  “What?”

“You were laughing.”

“It was a weird dream.”

“Sounds like the camp is starting to get ready to move.  Shall we get up?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve gotten my two hours.  You?”

“I slept a few hours while you were working.  I’ll be good.”

We got up and I helped Aurora into her adamantine apparel, checking all the fittings to make sure everything would be secure.  We didn’t want any mishaps today of all days.  After that, I prepared my spells for the day.  It was a combat heavy list, containing some direct attack spells as well as a number of support spells.  Unlike most days, I only left a handful of slots blank.

Better to have something prepared that isn’t exactly right than to have nothing prepared and need something immediately and desperately. 

I met up with Orik at his campfire.  “Everything ready?” he asked.

“As ready as we’re going to get,” I said.  “How about on your end?”

“The Lions will get the job done, even if the Flails have to carry the whole operation.  There is one thing I’m concerned about, though.”

“What’s that?”

“The big guy.  There are going to be a lot of giants.  Can you keep him under control?”

That was a good question.  “I think Geo can direct him where we need him.  And if not, then we always have plan B.”  I grinned.  “But if things go sideways, just imagine how much fun it’s going to be to watch your gnome explain to the boss how he screwed up the operation because he got tired of waiting back at the cliff.”

He laughed.  “You really don’t seem to like gnomes.”

“I don’t understand them.  There’s an uncanny valley thing about them, like they’re normal beings like humans, elves and dwarves, but there’s just that little bit off about them.”

“That’s a surprising observation.  I mean, they’re weird, but no one pays them any mind.  It’s just their way.”

I shrugged.  “First time I met someone that wasn’t a human was when I was nineteen.  I’m a little sheltered.”  Maybe it was something I needed to work on.  I dunno.  I just couldn’t shake the feeling that when I was near one, someone was watching me.  I mean, other than the gnome.

We set out just after sunrise, planning our arrival for midmorning.  Truth was, with the hobgoblins, there was no reason to show up at night.  That would just hand them a sight advantage.  And we were traveling east-ish to get there, so no reason to show up at sunrise.  No, midmorning was our best option.

We timed it pretty well, reaching the Valley of the Black Tower around nine am or so, based on the position of the sun.  The valley was massive, which made sense considering it was used by giants.  Not too far inside the valley was a watch post of sorts.  Our group of five mounted up and rushed it, hoping to hit it before it could raise an alarm, the carts following behind us at the quickest pace they could reasonably manage.

Of course, we weren’t quite quick enough, because that would have made me happy.  As we neared, red smoke – the color likely coming from an additive easy enough to produce with a little alchemy – billowed up from inside the palisade around the smallish watch post.

“Oh ho ho ho,” laughed the grotesquely scarred taiga giant woman standing at the gate.  “Now everyone knows you’re here.  But we don’t have to wait.  I’ve heard so much about how dangerous you are, so prove it.  Send out your champion and let’s see how strong you really are.”

I exchanged a glance with three of the others, and without words we immediately agreed that there was only one choice.  “Lenn?” Geo asked.

“GIANT!” the big man roared.  Yeah, he got the idea.

Honestly, had Lenn not been there, I would have just suggested we decline and swarm her.  But I hoped that if he got it out of his system now, at least a little, he would be easier to hold back during the larger fight.

The battle was quick and brutal.  She was wielding what looked like some sort cross between a battle axe and an ogre hook, but it wasn’t any bigger than Lenn’s weapon.  A crazed look in her eye – bloodlust, most likely – she charged in with a heavy overhand chop.  She anticipated the sidestep anyone else would have made and arced it left at the last moment, bringing it down against his rising axe.  Normally, both weapons would have survived the encounter, but he had the strength on his side, both of arm and of weapon.

Lenn’s axe cleaved right through her weapon without even slowing and continued on.  Striking off kilter, it didn’t so much chop her head off as it popped her head clean off, almost like a grotesque Rock Em Sock Em Robot.  All that held her now decapitated head in place was a loose flap of skin just over her spine.

She fell backward from the force and crumpled in a heap upon the ground.

Four more giants poured out from the post.  Our fight with them was nowhere near as brutal as Lenn’s fight with their commander.  Lenn, Geo and Aurora each soloed one, while Paulie and I worked together to conserve spell resources.  We had plenty of arrows and bullets, but spells might become a limiter later.

We inspected the corpses and the camp as we waited for the rest of our forces.  I was dismayed by what we found.  I called Aurora over.  “What is it?” she asked.

“These runes,” I said, indicated one of the four minions’ corpses.  “They’re Thassilonian.  They’re used to enslave creatures.  Giants, specifically, for these.”

“What?”

“Our enemies may not be in control of themselves.  Certainly many of them aren’t.”

“What do we do?”

I shook my head and sighed.  “I don’t think there’s anything we can do, honestly.  We continue forward.”

“Okay.”  She put a hand on my shoulder.  “Kyle, this is important.  You can’t show any hesitation and especially no fear today.”  She pointed an arm out towards the valley, where we could already see hundreds of foes stirring and beginning to make their way towards us.  “In about an hour, we’re going to be fighting for our lives against an overwhelming force.  The only reason any of us are still here is because you’ve told us we can win this and we’ve seen enough to believe you.  If you start looking doubtful, it’ll turn into a rout and we’ll all die, okay?”

I nodded.  “Okay.  I’ll be a big brave dog today.”  I grinned.  “Everyone else is almost here.  Guess I should make a speech, huh?”

“It would probably help.  No pressure.”

I relayed instructions to Orik and Squibbles.  They began barking orders to their soldiers and setting up the barricades just like we’d practiced.  Large walls unfolded just like my scrying mirror and were secured in place with all practical speed.  Massive caltrops and landmines were deployed, creating avenues of approach that we could fire down.

I stood up on one of the wagons and had the VI connect my radio transmitter to the speakers I’d attached.  “I need a moment, everyone.”  Work stopped and all eyes were on me.  “I’ve come to trust each and every one of you, with my life if necessary.  But I have heard murmurs of discontent.  In your eyes, I see the very fear which at times threatens to take me.”  I motioned over the valley, at the armies assembling to meet us.  “How could it be otherwise?  We’re a few, taking on many.  They are larger and stronger than we.  Yes, how could it be otherwise indeed?

 “I’m not going to lie to you.  The odds against us seem insurmountable at first glance.  But let me explain something.  Those forces out there?  They aren’t a threat to us. They’re a threat to everything — everyone.  If we fail, it will be the end of Sandpoint, of Magnimar and every other settlement within hundreds of miles.  If we fail, every human, elf, dwarf, gnome and people of countless other races within the region will be dead or enslaved within the year.  The few that survive to become slaves will envy those who have found the release of death. Those are the lives we’re fighting for. That’s the scale.

“It’s been a long journey, and no one’s coming out without scars. But it all comes down to this moment. We win or lose it all in the next few hours.  And make no mistake, we CAN win this.  But it’s on us.  So, make me proud. Make yourselves proud.

“Mokmurian seeks to bring an apocalypse down upon us.  If we do nothing, we might just live to watch the end of the world we know.  But that isn’t going to happen.  A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields, as the Age of Civilization comes crashing down! But.  It.  Is. Not.  This.  Day.

“Because today… Today, at the edge of our hope, at the end of our time, we have chosen not only to believe in ourselves, but in each other. Today there is not a man or woman in here that shall stand alone. Not.  Today.  Today we face the monsters that are at our door and bring the fight to them! Today, we are CANCELING THE APOCALYPSE!” 

Cheers erupted from our forces.  Aurora nodded approvingly.  I winked, deciding not to tell her today that I had cribbed my words from multiple sources.  I’d have to tell her eventually, of course.  After all, even if she missed the others, what were the odds that she’d never watch or read Lord of the Rings after we got to Earth?

I inspected the work as it went.  These people were not just professionals, but driven, so it was going well.  One of the technicians stopped me as I went along.  “You really think we can survive this?” the young man asked, in front of far too many witnesses.

“You’re damn right I do.  You know why?”

“Why is that?”

“Because we’re too gods-damned pretty to die.”   I glanced over at Orik, who was helping his men work.  “Okay, one of you keep an eye on Orik.  I’m only giving him a fifty percent chance on that whole ‘too pretty to die’ thing.”  Several of the soldiers laughed.  “Alright.  Keep working.  I’m going to go grab a few more grenades.”

I walked around a cart, out of sight of the soldiers.  Then everything I’d been suppressing hit me like a ton of bricks.  I retched violently, though I barely managed to stifle the sound.  I would have vomited if not for the fact that there was nothing in my stomach to vomit.  My entire body was shaking.

What the hell was I doing here?  I saw that army.  From my count, there had been one hundred twenty seven assorted giants, fifty three ogres, three hundred hobgoblins, ninety three goblins and one hundred eighteen assorted undead.  I had fewer than fifty men and women with me.  This was insanse.

Don’t get me wrong, I had confidence in my tech.  But had we brought enough, or was this going to turn really ugly really quickly?  All I know is that I’d have traded all my forces for a fully loaded B-2 bomber right about then.

Aurora managed to sneak up on me.  I only noticed her when she put her hand on my shoulder.  “You’re doing fine.  Just hang in there.”

“Thanks,” I said.  “I’ll be fine once we’re actually fighting.”  At least, I hoped so.  She nodded and got back to work.

“‘I always get the shakes before a drop,’” Fleur quoted.  “‘I’ve had the injections, of course, and hypnotic preparation, and it stands to reason that I can’t really be afraid. The ship’s psychiatrist has checked my brain waves and asked me silly questions while I was asleep and he tells me that it isn’t fear, it isn’t anything important — it’s just like the trembling of an eager race horse in the starting gate. I couldn’t say about that; I’ve never been a race horse. But the fact is: I’m scared silly, every time.’”

I grinned.  I’ve always loved that book.  “If Rico can do it, so can I.”

“Then let’s get out there.  C’mon, you ape!  You wanna live forever?!”  You know, actually, I think I’d rather like that.  An eternity to game and science aplenty to study when my thumbs needed a break?  That sounded like heaven.  Maybe it was something I’d look into once I’d solved the ‘getting home’ problem.

But that was a thought for another day.  “Then let this be the hour when we draw swords together.  Fell deeds awake.  Now for wrath, now for ruin, and the red dawn!”

Fleur laughed a berserker’s laugh.  “Forth now, and fear no darkness!”  I grabbed a few more grenades like I’d said I would.  If it came to it, if we failed, I would take as many with me as I could.  Because I was no one’s lunch.

When I got back, everything was ready and the enemy was almost close enough.  Time enough for one last speech.  “Hear me!  Those bastards out there, they attacked our homes, our friends! They think we’re helpless. They’re wrong. They started a war, but we’re not here to finish it. We’re here to make them regret — to show them and everyone else what happens when you go too far. No more running, no more waiting. Let’s hit them where they live.  Load the mortars!  Arm the machine guns!  Let us teach them fear!  The will show us no mercy, so let us give them no quarter!  CRY HAVOC AND LET SLIP THE DOGS OF WAR!

“Fire!”

The sounds of mortar fire erupted all around me, reverberating through my whole body.  The sounds of machine gun fire pierced the very air, threatening to overwhelm my eardrums.  It was an experience like no other.  And, in a strange way, it was magnificent.

Those sounds signified our strike against those who would harm the innocent.  They were our voices, crying out in a terrifying cacophony against those who had harmed us.  But more than anything, they were a roaring testament that I had done it.  They were the glorious tribute to my brilliance.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite as smug as I did in that moment, watching modern – and even more advanced than that – tools of war tearing through the ranks of this monstrous force before us like a scythe through a field of wheat.  I couldn’t help myself.  I threw my head back in a mad scientist’s laugh, just like Maximillian Hertz – AKA Dr. Hertz, one of my favorite comic book supervillains.

If you’ve never heard of it, there exists on the internet something called “The Evil Overlord’s List”.  It’s a list of things one should or should not do if one ever finds themselves in the position of becoming a movie style evil overlord.  Most of the advice is common sense, though some of it is fairly specific to recurring mistakes said overlords make in fiction.  As such, some of the entries make sense for more than evil overlords.  Some of the entries also apply quite well to gentleman adventurers and mad scientists, which I must admit was a reasonable label to apply to me at the moment.

Please allow me to quote number twenty from the Evil Overlord List:  “Despite its proven stress-relieving effect, I will not indulge in maniacal laughter. When so occupied, it’s too easy to miss unexpected developments that a more attentive individual could adjust to accordingly.”

Truth is, if I had been paying attention, I might have noticed the magical shield the enemy army had erected in time to save around two dozen shells.  But I wasn’t, so a couple extra volleys got through.  Not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but it’s not like we really had that many shells to spare.

“Hold your fire!” I commanded upon noticing the shells exploding in the air upon impacting a nearly invisible barrier.  I scanned the field looking for a cause.  It didn’t take long to spot Lyrie and Lucrecia.  They were standing next to a giant shorter than the rest, who I guessed to be Mokmurian.  The three of them, along with others, were taking turns channeling magic into an artifact of some kind.  If I were a betting man, I’d guess that had to be what was creating the shield.

I pulled out my scope and took a closer look.  The artifact was an orb of polished marble, covered in Thassilonian runes set on an ornate stand made of black metal – I recognized it.  It was a shield stone.  It was believed that some of the Runelords used them to protect their strongholds against attacks from siege engines and enemy wizards.  As long as it was fed magic, it would take the force of a nuclear bunker buster to penetrate.  The upside was that it couldn’t be moved while it was being used and had a limited radius, though I wasn’t sure how limited.  Large enough to cover a fortress, at the very least.

It also wouldn’t stop everything.  Only objects traveling at high speeds and magic attacks would be blocked.  People could ride right through it if necessary, which was an advantage for our enemies, not us.  They still had roughly half their forces after taking the first couple volleys unprotected.  At the very least, that was giving them pause.  We had bloodied them and they were unsure how to react.

Well, most of them were unsure.  The hobgoblins immediately took advantage of the situation by setting up crossbow teams at the boundaries.  They’d stick the weapon out and shoot, the majority of their bodies protected from retaliation.  We had our teams raise the metal walls to give themselves some protection.

“Geo,” I said over the radio.  “I have a question for you.”

“Go ahead.”

“We can’t hit them with the mortars unless they start to close.  Is there anything you can do about the hobgoblin leadership?”

“I can try to get close, but it might be impossible unless you can offer some kind of distraction.”

“Understood.”

Meanwhile, the enemy massed its undead forces for a charge.  It was a suicide mission, and they had to realize it, but it would force us to waste valuable ammo on expendable troops.  And those were the ones we hadn’t bothered hitting during the initial volleys, so they were at full strength.  “Any suggestions about the undead?” came Orik’s voice over the radio.

“Use the machine guns to thin them out.  Fire in bursts to conserve ammo.  When the remnants get close enough, switch to melee.  Have the gunners focus on the giant spiders.  Be mindful you don’t go too far out and end up in the minefield.”

“Got it.  Squibbles, Lenn, Aurora and I can handle whatever makes it through.”

Which left me to deal with the second front, coming from the hobgoblin side.  They had whipped their goblin slaves into a frenzy and sent them charging at us.  “The mortars will make quick work of them,” Fleur commented.

She was right.  I was just about to order the bombardment, but then an idea crept into my mind.  “Mortar teams.  Fire two smoke rounds behind the charging goblins and one explosive round in front of them.”

“What are you playing at?” Fleur asked.  “You should just destroy them.”

“That would be a violation of the Third Rule of Acquisition.”

“Which is…?”

“‘Never spend more for an acquisition than you have to.’  Words are cheaper than shells.”

“You’re going to use words to defeat goblins?  Goblins?!  How can you possibly hope to do that?”

“Rule One Ninety Four:  ‘It’s always good to know about new customers before they walk in your door.’”

“I worry about you risking our life on something you learned from Star Trek.”

The shells were fired and landed more or less where I intended, though the explosive one ended up clipping the front of the goblin wave.  In truth, that was probably for the best.  I rode out in front of the horde.  “Goblins!” I shouted in their language.  “You have seen the power of our fireworks!  I am willing to trade some to you!  Will you trade with me?”

They stopped in their tracks.  I had uttered the magic word.  Goblins love fireworks.  “What you want for fireworks?” one shouted back.

I grinned.  “Hobgoblin heads!”  They exchanged glances.  They were on the fence about that one.  “I’ll give you this many fireworks for each hobgoblin head,” I said, holding up all five fingers on my left hand.  “And I’ll throw in a barrel of pickles as a bonus if you can bring me thirty hobgoblin heads!”

It didn’t take long for them to do the math.  Well, “math”.  They didn’t know how many fireworks exactly they stood to gain, but they knew it was more than they’d likely ever seen.  Almost as one, they turned and charged back at the hobgoblins, who were still oblivious thanks to the wall of smoke.

“I think that distraction will work nicely,” Geo said over the radio.  I caught a glimpse of him as his skin changed color to blend into his surroundings while he crept up on the enemy army.

Of course, it didn’t all go our way.  The shield seemed to block missile weapons in both directions, but spells were a different story.  It was only logical that a Runelord might want to attack his enemies from inside the safety of the shield, so I wasn’t surprised when a fireball flew out at us several minutes after the goblin chaos began, just disappointed.  I had really been hoping that wouldn’t be the case.

“I have to bring down that shield,” I said to no one in particular as a volley of magical projectiles came flying at our position.

“Any ideas, bruh?” Paulie asked from where he was heroically trying to protect one of our mortar teams.

“Just the one, and I don’t like it.”

“Sounds like we have no choice,” he replied.

“You’re right about that.  I’m going to need my horse.”  I walked over to where Pinkie Pie was.  “Okay, girl.  We’re going to do something stupid, but the part after could be fun, right?  Yeah, I thought you might agree.”

“Wait,” Fleur interjected.

“What?”

“I know what you’re planning.  You’re not up to this.”

“I don’t exactly have anyone else I can send.  Has to be me.  Someone else might get it wrong.”

“Not true.  There’s one other person who can do it.”

“Who?” I was genuinely curious.  I was hoping she meant Squibbles, since this was stupid bordering on suicidal and I still owed him for the thing the other day.

“Me.  I will take the ring to Mordor.  And I know the way.”

“What?”

“Believe in the you who believes in me.  We’re in this together.”  Was she insane?  Was I insane for considering it?  Probably yes on both counts.

I sighed and then chuckled.  “Let it go.  Let it go!  Can’t hold it back anymore.”

“Time to give me an entrance.  No Digimon this time.  And no Power Rangers either.”

I rolled my eyes.  “Yes, yes.”  I walked over to the front lines with Pinkie following me.  I then tapped into the speakers again and struck a pose.  “My Heart: UNLOCK!”

Fleur laughed.  “Shugo Chara!  You went with Shugo Chara?!  You’re such an ass!”

I smirked as I activated my magic hat.  As always, it felt weird as my whole body began to writhe and roil in its transformation.  The last thing I did while in control was to start the activation of my magic bracers to allow Fleur to change her clothing to fit her mood.

…And suddenly, the transformation was over and I found myself in charge of our body.  Fuddy Duddy just stared.  “Fleur?  Why do you look like Jinx?”

I beamed, looking adorable with my dimples and blue-green pigtails.  “Because!”

“Oh god.  This was a mistake.”

I ignored him and hopped on Pinkie Pie’s back.  “Let’s go!  For cupcakes!  For victory!  FOR PONY!”  Pinkie charged straight forward.  We weaved our way past undead, narrowly avoiding crossbow fire.

“Wouldn’t it be better to sneak around behind them?”

“Maybe, but not as fun!  Besides, I bet they never expected this!”  I tapped the radio.  “Mortar teams!  Be prepared to fire on giants!  I’ll try to leave you a few!”  I threw grenades behind me to slow down several giants that had started pursuit, then drew our gun and kneecapped another in our way.

We charged past several more bewildered giants and I began pulling out the little surprise Fuddy had hidden in his bag.  “You know how to use that?” he asked.

“I was watching when you made it.  I think I can figure it out.”

“We’re going to die.”

“Oh hush.  I need to concentrate.”  We were close.  I could see Lyrie, Lucrecia and even Mokmurian giving me incredulous looks, completely unbelieving that just one of us would charge them.  I’m not even sure they realize it was me doing it.  Just that any one of us would do so.  I winked at them, not sure I was close enough for them to see it.  “Wanna join me? Come and play!” I sang at them.  “But I might shoot you in your face…”

“Oh, God.  She’s singing that song.  We’re definitely going to die,” Fuddy muttered.

I ignored him.  “Bombs and bullets will do the trick, but what we need here…” I threw the armed canister, only slightly larger than a football, at them and wheeled Pinkie around to begin our escape.  “…is a little bit of panic!”  The canister exploded upon impact with the ground.  Even at my distance, I caught scent of an overwhelming stench of garlic and horseradish as the explosion instantly released a massive cloud of highly pressurized mustard gas instantly. 

I looked over my shoulder.  Lucrecia grabbed Lyrie and the two teleported away.  Mokmurian covered his face with his hands and ran, desperate to escape the cloud.  From what I could tell, the rune-covered enslaved giant sorcerers currently channeling on the artifact didn’t even try to escape.

Pinkie charged past a pair of dumbstruck giants.  I fired several rounds behind me at them.  “Do you ever want to catch me?  Right now I’m feeling ignored!  So can you try a little harder?  I’m really getting bored!”  The giants roared and began to give chase.  I tossed another grenade behind me as Pinkie dodged an ogre’s thrown club.

“The shield just fell,” Fuddy told me.  I hadn’t even noticed.  “You should radio the mortar teams and tell them to fire.”

I tapped the radio.  “Come on! Shoot faster!  Just a little bit of energy yeah!”

“Do you really need to keep singing?”

Pinkie was enjoying it.  So yes.  I really did.  “I wanna try something fun right now, I guess some people call it anarchy!”  The sounds of mortar fire began striking all around, though carefully aimed to not hit anywhere close to me or where Geo might still be over by the hobgoblins.  I began riding around ogres in a circle, herding them into a tight ball as the goofily tried to follow me instead of working together to head me off.

I tossed a couple grenades into the crowd, laughing my head off as I did so.  “Oh no,” Fuddy gasped.  “This isn’t good.  This is definitely doubleplusungood.”

“Quit being a drama queen!” I laughed.

“You don’t understand!  I finally figured it out!”

“You going to get to the point sometime today?” I asked as I gleefully threw yet another grenade.

“Rarity died because of my generosity!  Applejack died because I chose to be honest with myself!  Fluttershy died after I had a moment of kindness!”

“So?” I said, giggling as one of the bullets I fired hit a pursuing hill giant in the forehead.  I threw another grenade.

“PINKIE PIE REPRESENTS LAUGHTER!”

Right on cue, the grenade I tossed exploded.  Normally not a problem, but the concussive blast sent a piece of metal, either from the grenade itself or another source, flying directly our way.  It missed me, but hit Pinkie Pie in the neck, severing both her carotid artery and jugular vein.  She was dead before we hit the ground.

I got to my feet quickly, winded from the fall, but otherwise okay.  For the moment at least.  I was surrounded by hostiles, only had a couple dozen rounds before I had to take the time to change the battery on my gun – a longer process than swapping a clip – and was down to only a couple grenades.

I tapped the radio to a commander only channel.  “If I fall, hit this area with the full spread of the mortars.”  I began firing in desperation.  The closest were only ogres, so they fell quickly, but it was looking grim.  Fuddy began calling out targets, aiding me immensely and allowing me to focus on making my shots count rather than having to decide which enemy was the most immediate threat.

We managed to buy a little breathing room as our enemies tried to decide how best to attack us.  I think the only reason we were alive now was that Geo had been successful.  There’s no way the hobgoblins wouldn’t have taken advantage of this if they weren’t in chaos at the moment. 

But I had to face the truth.  There was no way out of this.  All I could do was as much damage as possible before dying.  “Sorry,” I told Fuddy.  “I got carried away and messed up.”

“Don’t give up hope.  Keep fighting.”

“I’m not sure we have much fight left.”

“You’d be surprised.  ‘The humans, I think, knew they were doomed. Where another race would surrender to despair, the humans fought back with greater strength. They made the Minbari fight for every inch of space. In my life, I have never seen anything like it; They would weep, they would pray, they would say goodbye to their loved ones, and then throw themselves without fear or hesitation at the very face of death itself, never surrendering. No one who saw them fighting against the inevitable could help but be moved to tears by their courage. Their stubborn nobility. When they ran out of ships, they used guns, when they ran out guns they used knives and sticks and bare hands. They were magnificent. I only hope that when it is my time, I may die with half as much dignity as I saw in their eyes in the end.’”

He was quoting fiction again.  Unfortunately, I knew the end of the quote, the part he left out.  As we continued fighting, I finished it for him.  “‘They never ran out of courage but, in the end, they ran out of time.’  Just like us.  Our ammo is up and so is our time.”

He smiled.  “I wouldn’t say that,” he replied mysteriously.  I braced myself for the death blow coming from a stone giant, flinching in anticipation of my death, but it never came.  I looked again and this time I saw a glowing halo, white wings and silver skin standing between me and the giant.  “Huh.  She has a new manifest characteristic.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Aurora said.  “I had to tell them to send in Lenn.”

“You’re just in time!” I replied excitedly.  We might just live after all!

Another ogre charged, but was brought down by a half dozen well placed arrows in the side of its skull.  I glanced over and Paulie waved from several hundred yards away.  Then suddenly Geo was next to us. 

“Need some help?” the tentacled man asked.

“I’ll take it,” I replied.  “How’d it go with the hobgoblins?”

“There wasn’t much left once your goblin friends got through with them.  Nasty little buggers never even realized they were outnumbered and fought to a brutal end.”  I must admit that I felt kinda bad for them.

I didn’t so much see Lenn as I saw the effects of Lenn.  Giants started falling at the other end of the horde, with his attack turning into a rout fairly quickly.  He reached us shortly with a big grin on his face.  “I KILLED GIANTS!” he roared.

“Good job, big guy,” I said.  Safe at last, the adrenaline began to wear off and it all caught up with me.  My muscles faltered and my legs gave out under me. 

“You overdid it,” Fuddy said.  “You’re not used to this.”  I couldn’t even summon the strength to argue.

Aurora caught me before I fell.  “Easy now.”

“L-Loosen the ribbon in my hair?” I asked.  She nodded and gave it a tug.  I surrendered to my exhaustion as my body reverted and gave Fuddy control back.

“Are you okay?” Aurora asked me, our faces close enough to make me blush slightly.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, popping off the magic bracers and returning my clothes to normal.  Fleur really had overdone it.  I would have killed a man for a two liter of Baja Blast or a six hour nap.  With Aurora’s help, I stood up completely.  “It sounds like they’re out of shells and we still have work to do.  I just need a few moments to catch my breath first.”  The enemy didn’t give me those few moments. 

On the walls of the fortress were some massive catapults.  One of them fired something that wasn’t stone or any normal ammunition.  What landed was the stuff of nightmares.

First of all, let me state that I don’t think it was an undead creature.  It was a construct of some kind.  But it was made mostly of bones.  Giant bones.  And maybe some mammoth bones.  It was a massive centipede like thing, with seventeen sets of legs, each of which was taller than I.  In the front it had a pair of massive scything blades made of what looked like glaucite – an alloy of adamantine and steel, if you’re curious.  Its “head” was made from a mammoth skull combined with the fanged jaw of some great dragon, with four massive, glowing red eyes.

I knew a raid boss when I saw one.  First things first.  We needed a tank.  I tapped the radio.  “Orik!  I need you to grab its attention.  Use that shield of yours to stay alive!”

“On it!”

“Lenn!  Try to take out its legs!”

“RRRRAAAAAAWWWRRRR!!!!”

“Aurora, go get some grenades and try to hit it from the air.”  I had another idea.  “Also, take this to Paulie,” I said as I handed her several pre-measured wads of C-4 and some detonators.

“Be careful out there!”

“You, too.”  I turned to Geo.  “You’re the anatomy guy.  See any weak points?”

“Several along the spine.”

I handed him more C-4 and detonators.  “They’re all ready to go.  Slap them on and stick in the detonator.  I’ll set them off when you’re clear.”

“Leave it to me.”

I radioed again.  “Paulie, has Aurora given you what I sent?”

 “THIS IS A GLORIOUS FOE!”  Oh, great, he’d shifted again. 

“So, is that a yes?”

“Indeed!”

“Attach a lump to your arrow and carefully put in the detonator.  Then fire where you want to do damage.  Those are impact detonators, so they should go off when you hit.  Try to aim for the monster’s jaw and the shoulders where those blades are attached.”

“FOR GLORY!”

I could do little more than watch as the others fought.  It went pretty much as planned.  Paulie’s shots were magnificent as usual.  With three arrows, he neutralized the construct’s strongest weapons.  Aurora and Lenn’s attacks quickly reduced its mobility.  And Geo was amazing.  He ran right up the thing’s side and managed to place each of his charges without slowing down once.

Once he dove off, I shouted, “Clear!” into the radio and set off the charges with a radio trigger.  The construct fell apart in a half dozen places and our men cheered.

“Now that was badass!” Fleur said weakly.

“You did good too,” I said approvingly.

She flashed an exhausted smile.  “What now?”

“I’m tired of their shit.”  I tapped the radio.  “Begin conversion procedures.  Authorization O’Halloran Delta Three Four Sigma Magnus Six.”

“Acknowledged,” the VI responded.

“Mortar teams, if you have any smoke rounds left, put up a screen between our carts and the fortress.  I want this to be a surprise.  Orik, Squibbles, ready teams as we’ve discussed.”

Paulie brought me a spare horse and hit me with rejuvenative magic – which is the next best thing to an IV drip of Baja Blast, so I felt great.  We then rode back and I began overseeing the transformation of the pair of modified carts – well, more like carriages, really – into helicopters.

Truth is, for them to simply fly, the transformation was unnecessary.  They were animated constructs and could magically fly on their own.  The magitech powered rotors were for enhancing stability, speed and carry weight.  For reference, a Black Hawk can carry up to 20 lightly equipped personnel.  My X-187 Thunder Horses can carry up to ten heavily armed and armored individuals as well as enough armament to control or destroy a small Third World nation.  And it could do all of this at a speed of about one hundred forty miles an hour.

Conversion took no more than five minutes.  We were in the air two minutes after that.  Naturally, when we took off, I had the outside speakers blaring Ride of the Valkyries. 

Flight was controlled by the VI’s interface, but I had put in all the familiar controls out of a sense of propriety.  Truth be told, if I needed to, the whole thing could run on voice commands.  All it was really missing was ergonomic leather seats.

“Warning,” came the VI’s voice.  “Bogeys detected.  Initiate countermeasures?”

“Do it,” I replied.

Our helicopter came to a halt and rotated about twenty degrees before unleashing a barrage of hot lead upon a trio of harpies flying our way.  They never had a chance.  “Targets eliminated.  Detecting additional bogeys.  Firing anti-air missiles.”  Three missiles fired from each helicopter, taking out a bunch of wyverns that were rushing to meet us and raining gore upon anything below. 

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.  “Strafe the walls.  Use rocket pods on the siege engines and machine guns on everything else.  Prioritize anything that can attack us back.”

“Acknowledged.”

It was a slaughter.  There were giants, hobgoblins and ogres – semantically, they’re a type of giant, but I hold a special hatred for them, so I’ll continue keeping them separate – stationed all along the wall.  Not a one of them was a match for the wall of hot lead that poured forth from the two helicopters.  The siege engines didn’t fare any better, being utterly destroyed by dozens of rockets.

I felt elated as I watched the devastation before us.  Not because we were killing people, but because each death potentially meant one less danger to the people we were trying to protect.  Regardless of anything else, I was certain we were saving a lot of lives today, even as we were taking so many. 

My elation vanished when I saw the look of horror on Aurora’s face.  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“How can you be happy?  This isn’t war!”  Her tone was accusatory.  “There’s no glory, no honor here!  We aren’t fighting an enemy by strength of arms or testing our cunning versus our foes!  This is just a slaughter, as though these were no more than ants before us!”

It has been said that war never changes, but as I looked upon Aurora’s face in that moment, as her words washed over me, I realized how wrong that was.  In the span of time I had been on Golarion, not only had war changed, but I had been the one to change it.  War had gone from being a contest of strength where you faced your enemy on the field of battle, where you got close enough to see the anger in your opponent’s eyes as you tried your very best to kill one another in manual combat to being something different.

War had been something personal, almost ritualized.  But in one day, it had gone from that to being something done at a distance, almost indiscriminately.  I had taken changes that happened over a millennium back home and had inflicted them on this world in a day.  And Aurora, who had always idolized knighthood and the rituals of combat, had been there to witness it.  It was possible that she hated me now.  The look in her eyes certainly made me feel like it was a possibility.

I’m not saying what happened next was right or even smart.  What I’m saying is that I need you to understand the pain I was in before you judge how I reacted.  The look in her eyes hurt so much that I could only react with anger if I didn’t want to succumb to despair.  “Honor?” I asked, my tone filled with rage.  “You think there’s honor in killing?  No, there is no honor in war and never has been!  The only honor is in protecting those who cannot protect themselves and they don’t care how you do it.  The only thing that matters is killing your enemy or making him so afraid that you’ll kill him that he’d never dare harm an innocent.  Glory is only in coming home to see those you protect.”  If I had stopped there, maybe it would have been okay.  But I didn’t.  I had to keep speaking.  “So forgive me if I don’t subscribe to your antiquated notions of glory and honor of war.”

Seeing how much my words hurt her, I regretted it immediately after saying it, but I was still so hurt that I couldn’t apologize.  I wanted nothing more than to leave the situation and hit something.  I looked out the side of the helicopter.  We were hovering about a hundred feet over the fortress walls.  With my magic boots, I could survive easily, and I was sure there was one other person who could go with me.  I tapped Lenn on the shoulder.  “WHAT?” he bellowed over the sound of the rotors.

“Let’s go see if there are any giants down there still alive.”

“GIANTS!” he roared, leaping out the open side of the helicopter.

“VI, switch the music to something that rocks.”  I prepared to jump after him, but Geo stopped me.  “What are you doing?!”

“I’m going to go secure a landing zone so we can disembark and find some enemies.”

“Why?”

“Because apparently we’re only supposed to kill them face to face like civilized people,” I sneered, still angry.  The music finally changed and I couldn’t help but chuckle darkly at the VI’s choice.  It was gloriously appropriate.  I took a deep breath with the intro, then sang along with the music as I jumped after Lenn.  “I see a red door and want to paint it black!” 

As I fell, I couldn’t help but think that I had, in a few moments, ruined any shot of remaining friends with Aurora, much less ever being together.  A part of me hoped that the fall would kill me, but I landed softly in a three-point stance.  I surveyed the area around me and only Lenn was moving.  A pity.  I really wanted to shoot something right then.  Though, for all I knew, even that would lack in glory or honor.  Alone, momentarily at least, my grief washed over me.  At that moment, more than any other, I regretted coming to Golarion.

No colors anymore, I want them to turn black.

0 Comments

Leave a Reply