"That was fun," he whispered into my ear as we walked our way out of town hall. "Care to co back to my place for round two?" he continued as his seductive baritone voice promised blissful undertakings.
Despite my wishes, I had to turn him down. My reason feels la, but I have to work tomorrow, and it would undermine my authority if I, as a captain, arrived late for work. I did promise that I would take him up on the offer later when I had more ti off work.
Yet his words still lingered on my mind as I slowly made my way ho. It isn't like he was particularly suave beyond asure, but the ssage he conveyed aligned perfectly with my desires. Quality males were few and far between around here, and most were already taken. Beyond that, there was so other enigmatic quality about him, so allure that tugged at , that I yearned to approach him and stay by his side.
Did he use mind magic on ? Would I even recognize I was enthralled by such foul machinations if I were so ensorcelled? But, it didn't feel abhorrent or so direct. Forsooth, that familiarity we shared, the comfort of each other's presence, felt natural beyond what little ti we had shared together. It felt as if I had known him my whole life and beyond, and he knew as well. Perhaps that is how mind magic gets you.
And this affection I feel for him, gah! I'm not so schoolgirl pining for her first crush. But why do I feel so certain I love him and not in a fleeting way? Is this Destiny, our convergence ordained beyond our control, with Fate sealing our choices that we have yet to make?
"Get yourself together, Jericho!" I admonished myself ntally as I continued my walk ho. He may be everything you seek in a man, but he's just one orc among-
…
Wait a minute! Black clothes with yellow decoration. Shows up out of nowhere and no one has heard of him before. Charismatic and handso, yet such an Everyman that he could be from anywhere. Has fine enough clothes to be a chieftain, yet he cuts firewood for a living. Furthermore, his clothes are festooned with draconic icons and imagery.
"By Berxerxes' balls! That was the Emperor!"
Why would he slum it with us orcs? But, he has garnered a reputation for promiscuity. It was a well-known secret that won only had to approach the guildmaster, Chooka, to arrange for a night of passion with the man, assuming one was found worthy. Had his appetites turned even towards orcs? Admittedly, many n and so won have eyed appreciatively, but few have had the stones to make a move. Would I end up as just another conquest for him, or was there sothing more there?
Gah, so much makes perfect sense as the rest remains as nebulous as it is vexing. I would have to see him again to get answers, no doubt about it. And my traitorous heart pounds faster at the thought, all too eager to bend the knee and declare my undying love for him. Okay, maybe I'm being a tad dramatic, but still, sothing fishy is going on.
In pondering such mysteries, I ca to realize that I had been oblivious to everything going on around , which in and of itself is a dangerous pasti. More to the point, I had walked well past my ho and almost to the gate that leads to the road we are building. Perhaps I should stop by and see if the guards are attentive to their duties or not. Those posted there may not be from the Pillars of Strife, but I could still bring the heat down on their commander if I went through the chain of command, should I find the guards there slacking off.
An eerie feeling flooded through as I drew near the gate. Sothing unnatural approached, of that, my instincts scread. Shaken, but unrelenting in my duty, I continued forward, summoning my weapons from my storage ring that had been gifted to when I had made captain. Though unarmored, my trusty tower shield and axe would see through the worst of a scuffle if 'kinetic events' beca the only recourse for 'alternative diplomacy', as my training instructor had lectured on such terminology to veil brutish violence with eloquent euphemisms.
I hurried to the gates from which I heard shouting and observed flashes of light. As I drew closer, I could see the craven guards in the watchtowers of the gatehouse trembling like leaves in a gale, yet they took no action to ring the fucking alarm bell not three feet away from them. The gate, for whatever godsforsaken reason remained ajar at this hour, appeared otherwise undamaged, but the guards posted there were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they had rushed out of the gate to handle so threat.
Not half a minute later, I arrived at the gate, and the shouting from outside had all but abated, other than so sniveling wretch, presumably outside the gate, who sounded much like those who had succumbed to battle fatigue.
"Wake up, you dogs!" I shouted at those on watch. "The gate is open, what in the blazes is going on?" I continued as I took up a defensive stance, ready to et whatever may burst through the opening of the gates any mont now.
Yet, those on guard remained as they were, gripped so tightly by fear that they remained unresponsive. Unsure if I should run up to ring the bell or work to close the gate, my ponderings remained moot when an unlikely individual bumbled his way through the opening in the gates.
"Oh, pardon , my dear!" a hunched old man in drab clothes and leaning heavily on his walking stick greeted as he ambled the rest of the way past the gates. "Dreadfully uppity lot out there. No respect for their elders, hmph," he continued as he walked as if to make his way past .
"Halt, identify yourself!" I ordered the stranger, but he made no effort to heed my warning.
The hairs on the back of my neck raised in alarm as the distance between us slowly diminished with his slow but inexorable gait. I was a split-second away from using coercive force to convince him to comply when a voice, not my own, strongly advised against it.
"Strike not The Pacifist, or perish."
I could hear those capitalized letters in the warning. Not, "the pacifist", but "The Pacifist". The Walking Calamity, The Bumbling Doom, The Wandering Old Man, the list of appellations goes on, but the point remains the sa. If the voice were to be trusted, which I deem it is, then this old man was one of the Twelve and One.
Demon.
I thought all children had been told bedti stories of the Demons. If so, then the guards should have known not to attack him after the first perished. Careful to show no aggression, I slipped past him and through the gates to confirm my suspicions. Where once guards had been, only piles of ash and their equipnt remained, their bodies painting a tale of how they had all been rendered such when they went to strike the Demon.
Shaken, but stirred on by duty, I returned through the gates and closed and barred them. On trembling legs, I climbed the stairs to the gatehouse and rang out the signal on the bell that I had morized but never dread I would need to use. Three quick rings, two slow, two slow, three quick again. With pauses in between, I rang it out two more tis before using [Signal Flare] to launch a signal for the camp. A white glow illuminated the sky like the noon sun, changing to crimson red before sputtering out entirely.
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My duty fulfilled, I collapsed as the reality of how closely I had brushed against death sunk in. The Pacifist, of the Twelve and One, was a Demon, as are the rest. He, or it, cannot harm anyone directly, but can defend himself. Should soone try to attack, imprison, obstruct, or otherwise interfere with his agency, said individual would be turned to ash in an instant. Such had been the fate of the guards, and such would have been mine if I had followed protocol.
I am no stranger to battle, to dancing with death, to watching the blade co for my neck with only a fraction of a second at my disposal to thwart quenching its thirst with my blood. But Demons exist beyond my experience or complete understanding. Their motivations are aberrant to reason, their thods perverse and abhorrent, their ans supernatural and mysterious. The terror that clawed and scraped at the barriers of my sanity were beyond simple fear, and I could do naught but tremble on the floor of the gatehouse like so pathetic greenhorn who pisses his pants on his first fight.
I thought myself stalwart, brave, undaunted by the horrors of this world, but I am wrong, and such revelations are a bitter pill to swallow. Tears of frustration and rage at my own weakness stread unbidden down my face as I cowered. And to think, the Demon didn't even turn his power against directly; I just happened to be nearby. All I could do was think and pray while I waited for the effect to wear off.
"Gods above, save us from your miscarried kin that walk among us."
Jericho turned down for tonight, but her eyes and smile promised future repetitions of our indulgences. Sothing about her pulled closer, and I have a strong feeling I know what. I rember there being a female orc among those statues of my companions in my inner world, and if she was not the one depicted there, I'd eat my hat! Well, eat it in my draconic form, since the hat would be easy to swallow whole, but the point remains that the attraction I felt was beyond lust or even simple affection.
"More ti to snoop around, or will you practice your enchanting?" asked Skull from my shadow where she had remained hidden.
"Probably snooping, I have not done enough of that lately. Also, I'm surprised you did not make your debut to the orcs."
"I figured you should have the first night to yourself. Plus, I was busy looking around and taking in the sights," she continued, her voyeuristic enjoynt seeping through our bond. "Plus, I want to see if I can scare her if I make the big reveal during the next ti you two knock boots. I only get to do that once; no sense wasting it."
"Fair enough. Hey Skull, do you see what I see over there," I asked my eternal companion as I turned my gaze over towards the back of the town hall where a small and shadowy figure skulked about.
Skull, her presence more known to as I grew in power and familiarity with her, moved over in that direction. Her incorporeal and shadowy figure was visible to now, a most recent developnt, and so I had an inkling of how she occupied her ti as she remained presumably within another plane or dinsion connected to my shadow, or the concept of my shadow perhaps.
"Shady; let's check it out," she replied with interest. I could tell she wanted to sneak up on and scare the person, and so I began to stalk my prey.
The figure wore robes, so I could not be certain who it was at this distance. However, upon advancing closer, a certain realization illuminated the answer to the mystery, and so delighted at my opportunity for shenanigans, I followed the unsuspecting interloper who entered town hall so late at night.
Quiet as smoke, I crept my way inside while shrouded in magical shadows. A light could be seen coming from inside near the larder. Slinking closer, I rounded the corner and shouted at my unsuspecting prey.
"ALTEREZ!"
"What?" he complained as he turned to . Completely unfazed, he chowed down on a slice of cheese.
"Damn, I thought I would have surprised you. What are you doing eating cheese at two in the morning?"
"Boss," Alterez sighed after swallowing to answer my inquiries. "This is a kitchen and I am a [Line Cook]. Nothing happens in the kitchen that I don't know about. I noticed you the instant you 'snuck' inside." He continued to slice off more pieces of cheese and handed so to before continuing. "As for your second question, I am a goblin and it is two in the morning. Where else would I be? Any self-respecting goblin would be eating cheese at such an hour while standing inside a larder. The goblin gods look favorably on those who follow such tenants."
"Oh," I replied as I found myself dumbstruck by such innocent and peculiar activities. "I guess I don't really know what goblins believe or what tenants they should observe to follow their gods." Skull joined , and together we ate our cheese together, which was very good with a light, nutty flavor.
"Many are the tenants that we supre beings must follow," he lectured as he cut off another slice of cheese. "Eating cheese at this hour is one of them. Not killing [Fromagers], [Cheesemakers], [Cheesemongers], and such, or otherwise stealing too much from them. Bullshitting your way through life and inane questions. Taking the nails when you steal things. Bathing at least once a day. I have been a devout disciple of the gods for a long ti now, or at least more than most goblins. It's really a low bar to beat to be so devout, but yet my kin often disappoint ," Alterez continued as he frowned while looking nostalgic. "Anyway," he continued as his mood perked up, "now that you have eaten the cheese with , you are complicit in any and all cris which I will totally deny any part of."
We shared a laugh at that joke, which I also understood to be equal parts serious. Our rrymaking was interrupted by the sound of a bell. Alterez's ears perked up at the sound of it, the tiny hairs on the ends of his ears quivering with the distant vibrations. I likewise heard the sound of an alarm, which I would have perhaps ignored since it would normally be for others to handle, but this particular alarm was unexpected but not unplanned for.
"Oh shit! Not good," Alterez stated what we all were thinking as his ears drooped. "Do you want to stay here and guard the kitchen and our victuals, or…"
"Co along; you probably have more experience with calamity than most," I answered quickly, which clearly was not the answer he was hoping for, but he complied nonetheless.
As we made our way to the front gate, I observed n and won rushing from their hos with weapons and armor at the ready while other people, presumably non-combatants, rushed to designated shelters. So took command, barking orders and issuing threats and cusses to lollygaggers as a defensive counterasure was assembled.
"Oh, what are we fighting," asked a strange old man who leaned heavily on his walking stick as he waddled over to .
I turned to the man and was about to answer him when so surly human bumped into the old man accidently.
"Watch where you are going, old man!" the youth shouted as he moved to shove the old man.
To the horror of all onlookers, the youth never connected with his shove. In less than a second, the man incinerated in a flash of blue and green fire. I felt no heat wash over , but the pristine and imnse mana that powered such an Ability was clear to even the least talented among us. The man's clothing and personal effects remained intact, but they fell to the ground as ash spilled out of them and onto the ground.
"Hmph, kids these days have no manners," the old man complained as he resented his balance from their earlier collision. "Why, back in my day…" the old man continued to lecture as he grumbled about tis long gone.
As I looked on at those gathered, I saw them gripped by fear, their bodies trembling as few could muster the strength to move. Skull, naturally, was completely unaffected, and if anything, she seed envious of the old man's power, or perhaps jealous that her god did not have a monopoly on such Abilities.
"Peace!" Skull shouted to the masses. "No one is to harm this old man or bar him from moving about freely," she continued as she turned about to address those gathered here. "This old man is a Demon, The Pacifist. He cannot harm you, but should you try to harm him, you will die instantly. If you want peace and privacy, all you must do is lock your doors at night, for he will not break into your hos. Do not attempt to evict him should you find him where he does not belong or otherwise engage in any violence or hostility towards him. He is only as dangerous as you make him."
"Hmph, well said, well said, young one," the old man complinted Skull as she finished, before turning his eyes to Alterez, whom I had forgotten about. "Oh, it's you again. I don't see any of your friends around to rob this ti, but will that stop you from turning tail and running away again? I had hoped you would have learned your lesson after the third ti you tried it."
All eyes turned to the goblin. I could almost see the gears turning in his head as the bullshit factory prid itself for a special delivery.
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