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4.20 In Which the Dark Lord Knows Who's Been Naughty or Nice
🕑 Added 2023-01-17 00:25:55 +0000 UTCWell, she sure called it.
“You have been offered hospitality for the night, and our word is good,” the squirrel chieftain stated minutes later when we were brought before him. After all the exertions of the last day I was finally slightly winded; climbing what amounted to three stories up a ladder was a rough use of different muscles than I’d been habitually exercising. “You shall have food and a warm place to sleep for the night, and peace, so long as you respect the peace in turn. At dawn you will leave. Our intervention against the deep forest witch is out of the question.”
“We are grateful for your hospitality,” Rhydion said, swiftly enough that he got the word in before any of the rest of us could open our mouths, which was probably wise. “I must implore you to reconsider your verdict, however. There is great danger for all of us in continuing to ignore these developing events. From the Fflyr, even more than the undead.”
The leader of the squirrels was physically imposing. Not in the way of Rath Kadora, for example; they tended to be lean in build, rather than packing on muscle like the wolves. He was tall, though, his reddish fur beginning to show the gray of age around the ears and muzzle. Moreover, there was a stillness to him that lent him a palpable aura of authority. It was in the tail; every squirrel we’d seen so far tended to keep their tail arched up high behind them, and they twitched and jerked about seemingly with every little thought they had. Not the leader’s; he was like a statue, tail and all. Notably, he had not been introduced to us by name, nor the Seer by anything but her title.
Now he leaded forward from the bench upon which he sat like a throne, the motion slow and deliberate, showcasing his iron self-control.
“You have been offered hospitality,” he said softly, “and you issue threats?”
“Very much the opposite,” Rhydion replied in a firm tone. “I give you my word that I will seek no retribution against you for this. Nor do I expect any of my companions would do so, but should they think to I will intervene to prevent it. No, on the contrary, I would warn any fellow traveler in the forest against a danger which threatened us all. I expect you would do much the same, sir.”
“Ah.” The chief’s eyes narrowed subtly, the very slight movement emphasized by his overall stillness. “So the Fflyr have decided to blame our tribe for the outbreak of undead, and seek revenge.”
The surrounding squirrels stirred in clear unease, though they were too respectful to begin speaking out. We were meeting in the largest structure in the village, built on a platform suspended directly above the altar far below, in the center of the huge khora formation; this public meeting space held what had to be at least half the tribe at the moment. The Seer, standing to the chieftain’s left, glanced around in silence and the onlookers quieted just as quickly.
This was the point where we could have skipped a big chunk of the ensuing conversation had Rhydion been willing to lie, or even dissemble. But no, Mister Honorable had to be virtuous and forthright no matter the circumstances. I honestly admired that about him, even when the specific results were annoying.
“At this time, I see no signs of it,” he stated. “If anything, the Fflyr are currently underestimating the threat these undead represent, in my opinion.”
The squirrel chief’s eyes narrowed further, pinching together at their outer corners to convey irritation. “Thank you for the warning.”
Man, that was perfect delivery. The sarcasm was utterly deadpan, as good as any lowborn production I’d heard. I decided I’d better jump in here and rescue Rhydion from his own misstep.
“It has to do with how the Fflyr govern,” I said, causing all eyes to turn to me. “In a word: poorly. The regime is both incompetent and needlessly cruel, and most under it are constantly suffering. The only technique for maintaining control of such a situation without causing constant uprisings and rebellions is to scapegoat. The Clans are always on the lookout for someone to blame for the problems they cause, somewhere to misdirect everyone’s very justified anger over their miserable existence. And now, here you are, sitting on top of a source of zombies and refusing to so much as discuss it. It doesn’t matter how big a threat the undead are, or whether they truly are one at all. You’ve made yourselves the perfect excuse. The next time tensions run high and a distraction is needed, the Clans will come crusading out here to punish you. That is a matter of when, not if. Might not be for years, or it could start tomorrow. It’s too easy and obvious a gambit for them to pass up—easy and obvious gambits are the only kind they’re interested in.”
I paused, letting the nervous rustling rise and subside again, and then swooped back in before anyone else could regain control of the conversation.
“If anything, Rhydion here is the only thing buying you time. When he comes out of the forest insisting that he doesn’t want to see any retaliation against you over this… Well, that means the clans will wait to do it until he leaves the island. And Rhydion is only on Dount to deal with the zombie issue. If you stop him in his tracks, there’s really nothing keeping him here.”
The Seer looked at the leader, catching his eye, and nodded once, her little familiar on her shoulder mirroring the gesture. I hated how cute that was. The leader looked from her to me, and then back at Rhydion, his silence a clear question.
“Lord Seiji’s political analysis is…broadly correct,” the paladin acknowledged. “I could quibble the details, but only by diving into minutia that I doubt would interest you. All I will say in rebuttal is that I do not intend to be dissuaded so easily. Even should you refuse to aid us, I will continue seeking other avenues until all possibilities are exhausted, or we achieve success. However… Lord Seiji may overestimate my ability to forestall the activities of the Clans. These four here I am willing to vouch for, insofar as I can influence their actions away from revenge. Should the Clans decide to retaliate against you, I doubt my disapproval will dissuade them.”
“Do you imagine, paladin,” the squirrel chieftain said very quietly, staring down his nose at Rhydion, “that you frighten me?”
“I did not come here to threaten you,” Rhydion insisted, just as quietly and with total conviction.
Finally, the chief’s expression changed: one side of his mouth stretched slightly, in the bitterest little half-smile I had ever seen.
“Because you do,” he said, just about a whisper. “I am not a fool. The Fflyr and their champions frighten me a great deal. But the witch… She frightens me far more. She is closer, and more aware of us. You have erred in your assessment, paladin. My people do not side against you. We refuse to side at all—and that is the greatest help I am able to offer.”
He turned his head, looking directly at our old buddy Vylkher.
“Show them the guest quarters, and make them comfortable.”
“Well, hang on, before that,” I interjected smoothly, if I do say so myself. “If that business is tabled, there’s still my own promise. Healing, for anyone who needs it.”
The chieftain fixed a piercing stare on me. “You believe you can still influence my decision. Do not insult my intelligence.”
“I’m curious whether this will influence your decision, but no. I was very clear when I spoke to Vylkher here, and I’m reasonably sure you had scouts listening in and reporting every word back. No strings, no tricks. If anybody’s sick or injured, I’ll fix it.”
“What a magnanimous thing to do,” the Seer all but purred, gracing me with a vulpine smile, “for a man who believes most ardently in darkness and rage.”
“You know what I’ve discovered, during my brief sojourn on your shithole island?” I retorted in my most pleasant tone. “Unnecessary suffering pisses me off. And when something pisses me off, I kill it. Now are you gonna let people come to me for free healing, or you gonna be the guy who kept it from them to make some kind of point?”
The Seer made a tiny “o” with her lips, sucking in a breath, and shot her counterpart the expectant look of someone who’d just seen a great play in some kind of sports match and eagerly anticipated the response.
“You,” the chief informed me quietly from below eyes narrowed to cold slits, “are not making any friends here, sorcerer.”
I smiled, and shrugged. He was wrong, but there was no need for me to say it. Not when I’d already won this round.
***
“Ho ho ho! I hope you’ve all been good, because Seiji Claus is coming to town!” I arrived at our group’s designated high-rise hut with my arms fully laden, to find the rest of the party sitting around the asauthec firepit in the center, pausing in the process of distributing food to peer up at me in confusion.
“What under Her blessed light are you on about?” Dhinell demanded, squinting suspiciously up at me.
“He likes to make allusions to literature and culture from his home country,” Aster explained, deadpan and utterly calm. “It’s the most obscure stuff imaginable, Sister, don’t worry. No one could be expected to get his references.”
Even the sharp, seething glare Dhinell shot her could be chalked up to her personality, in a vacuum. You really had to be familiar with Fflyr culture to understand the blistering insult that had just been administered.
“That’s quite a haul,” Harker commented as I settled down near the fire and carefully put some of my armful down beside me. “What happened to giving out healing without taking payment?”
“None of this is payment,” I said, tossing him a pouch of spiced jerky. “Everybody was very clear about that. The gift of healing was accepted with good grace and then everybody who got some felt the personal need to lavish me with presents just because I’m an honored guest and they like my company that much. I decided to let them.”
“So I see,” Dhinell said archly, eyeing my pile of booty.
“Here, this is tea,” I said, handing her a package. “It’s spicy; you Fflyr like that, right? Anyway, yes, there was no payment but I opted to let them out of accepting charity. I know the value of pride and I’m not looking to take anybody’s away from them. Besides, this approach is in the best interests of our campaign.”
“Not putting them in our debt gives us leverage how?” Harker demanded.
“He’s right,” said Rhydion. “The squirrels made it clear we do not have enough leverage to gain their outright cooperation. That means any leverage we do gain over them will only increase ill feeling. It is more productive to cultivate goodwill.”
“Ooh, they gave you a guitar?”Aster asked, reaching for it.
“Ah ah! Hands off, that one’s mine.” I clutched the instrument protectively. It was beautiful, and unlike both Earth guitars and the Fflyr ones I’d seen. Rather than resonant akornin blades to produce sound like a Fflyr guitar, this one was made of thin akorshil with a hollow body like the ones I was more familiar with, though the shape was different. Its neck was thinner and longer, with a scrolling head piece not unlike a violin’s, and the back of the body had an odd concave shape with curious little vents. And it was beautiful,lacquered black and crimson with intricate spiraling designs in white and purple.
“Strangest instrument I’ve ever seen,” Dhinell sniffed.
“Yeah, pretty different, right? Only five strings and the finger spacing will take some getting used to. I’ll figure it out, though, the basics of strummed strings are all more or less the same. Here you go, Aster.”
“A…blanket?” she asked, accepting it.
“It’s some kind of shawl thing, actually. Their hunters wear them in winter. It’s got clips on the long parts that hang in the front there, I thought it’d fix pretty well to the lapels of your coat. If you buckle the sword on over the top it’ll leave your arms free. Here, this is supposedly good luck. Whether or not that works, it’s pretty.”
Rhydion gravely accepted the string of beads affixed to a thin slat of akorshil on which a bird had been intricately carved and painted. “Thank you. How are they? You were not gone as long as I expected.”
“They’re better off than the wolves were. Seems they’ve avoided the worst effects of both the Inferno and the zombies, but they do live harsh lives, scavenging in the wilderness and surrounded by enemies. Plenty of injuries old and new, and some sicknesses even their alchemy didn’t seem able to treat. There…are going to be people who need my help everywhere I go.”
Rhydion just nodded at my solemn tone, giving me a moment to dwell on it before continuing. “Lord Seiji, I realize you have done more actual labor than any of us since we arrived, but I wish to ask more effort of you. After we have eaten, of course. You should rejuvenate your strength.”
“Oh?” I accepted a bowl of stew from Harker. “What’s on your mind?”
“If you are amenable, I would ask you to make our case again to this tribe’s leadership. On your own, in private.”
I paused with a spoon halfway to my mouth, staring at him.
It was a surprising request, sure, but I was mostly struck by my innate fear of anything which seemed too good to be true. Talking to the squirrel leaders without him there to overhear was exactly what my agenda required, and I’d already been thwarted by said leaders themselves. They had slipped away while I was dealing with the villagers, both of them doubtless canny enough to see exactly what I was angling for. Most suspicious of all, I couldn’t think of a single damn reason for Rhydion to want that.
What I did know was that Rhydion knew more than he let on, and was constantly attempting to maneuver me in some way.
“Interesting,” I said, finally, after taking a bite of the stew. Gamey stuff, but it was reasonably spiced in comparison to how the Fflyr made theirs. Also…okay, it definitely wasn’t miso or shoyu, but I was certain this had a layer of umami flavor that reminded me strikingly of home. I definitely needed to ask the squirrels about the seasonings they used. “I’m not sure what good you think that will do, though. I just made a pretty good impression on the villagers, yeah, but the leadership specifically may not be too excited about that. I did sort of undermine their authority in the process.”
“Yeah, we all heard you do that,” Harker grunted around a mouthful of his own meal. “Real clever move there, chief.”
“I realize you are prone to think the worst of people,” said Rhydion, “but do not discount the very real gratitude the chieftain and the Seer will feel for the good you have done here, Lord Seiji. I discern great care for their people in both of them. Would you not feel positively toward someone who rendered those you care about such a service?”
“Of course I would. I would also be skeptical of their intentions, because I’m not an idiot.”
“Just so.” His helmet nodded once, and it occurred to me that he wasn’t holding a bowl. Rhydion was sufficiently deft enough with watch and sleeping schedules that I’d never actually seen him eat, but…he had to do it sometime. Surely? “The fact is, you have had more success than any of us at getting on the squirrelfolk’s good side. I am also aware that you feel the need to…restrain yourself in mixed company. It is my hope that by removing some of the inhibition of your natural charisma, you can get better results than you might in our presence.”
I stared at him.
He stared at me.
I hated that he was the only one of us with his face hidden. You cannot win a staring contest with a featureless visor.
“Without being excessively cagey,” I finally said, idly swirling my spoon through my stew, “I can’t think of anything about which I am being…discreet…that would make much of a difference to the squirrels. At least, not in the direction of making a positive impression. I could cause a lot of damage without you looming over me, sure, but that won’t help anything here and also I have zero intention of doing it even if it would. These folks are only being recalcitrant out of self-preservation, not hostility. Their lives are hard enough and they don’t need any more shit from the likes of us.”
“We agree,” he said, nodding again. “As such, I would ask that you only make requests, and do not push so much as to make yourself a nuisance.”
“What’s the point, then?”
“The point is that I am not inclined to give up at the first sign of opposition. We will, of course, seek other avenues of investigation if they can be found, but this lead is solid and should not be abandoned until it becomes absolutely clear that there is no progress to be made here. I do not believe that is the case, at least not yet. Very often I have found that persistence can change stubborn minds, so long as one acts in good faith and refrains from going so far as to become obtrusive.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that about you.”
“I am sure you have. However, one should take such actions with great care, and use only the appropriate method of approach, lest it achieve the opposite of one’s goal and drive the prospect away. For example, you’ll note I did not send Dhinell to persuade you to join this expedition.”
“And may the Goddess be praised for that,” Dhinell muttered.
“All right, I take your point,” I said, amused in spite of myself. “Yeah, when you put it that way, I think you called it. It didn’t seem the squirrels were hostile to you as such, at least not personally, but…”
“But perhaps not as inclined to be receptive,” he said, inclining his helmet toward me. “Not unreasonably, either; I do represent the symbols of an institution which, as the chieftain admitted, they have cause to fear. And from what admittedly little I have observed, they seem particularly uninterested in befriending Harker.”
“Truly can’t imagine why,” Harker himself grunted, grinning sourly. “I’m the very soul of good manners and friendliness, I am.”
“It’s probably all the rape that does it,” I said in an aggressively casual tone. “Some people get weirdly pissy about that.”
His face hardened and he set down his bowl. “You like to make assumptions, Lord Seiji. You don’t know jack shit about me.”
“Peace, please,” Rhydion projected beautifully, his voice filling the room. He’d really mastered that tone of voice which made it clear that no amount of ‘please’ meant it was a request. “If you concur with my reasoning then, Lord Seiji, once you have refreshed yourself…?”
“Sure, I follow you. I’ll give it a try, but don’t expect miracles.”
“In truth, I do not expect you to succeed.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Due to the nature of the task, not you,” he added apologetically. “Rather than a winning play, I think of this as another step in the dance. We should keep up our efforts, gently but persistently. Even if we do not have a breakthrough on this visit, we can work toward one.”
“Worth a try,” I said noncommittally, tucking back into my stew and already thinking ahead. Actually, he had a very good way to look at it. Something told me the squirrels weren’t going to be any more eager to drop everything and sign up for the Dark Crusade than they were to pick a fight with the witch of the deep forest.
But it was never too early to start trying.
***
I wasn’t that tired, truth be told. Healing doesn’t take much out of me physically, and after Cat Alley administering to the hurts and illnesses of villagers like this wasn’t much of a wear on the psyche. But I had just hiked through the forest for the whole day and that soup actually did restore energy to me, even more than I’d realized I was missing.
Thus recharged, I slipped out of our assigned hut onto the walkway outside, the air icy with both the season and the altitude; we were above the general canopy of the khora forest here, and the wind was constant and piercing. I had expected us to be under watch and not allowed to just wander as we pleased. Sure enough, right outside was none other than our apparently designated minder, Vylkher, leaning against a support rail a few meters away with his arms folded.
He didn’t seem bothered by the cold. True, he was bundled up, but man that built-in fur coat had to be a godsend at this time of year.
“Ready to go?” he asked lightly upon my emergence. “They’re waiting for you.”
I stared at him with my mouth embarrassingly open for a second before my brain caught up.
“…right. Of course they are. So, does she just…know everything?”
“No one knows everything,” he said with a very small smile. “Even a Seer may be taken by surprise, and she has been. But she foresees enough to make…a convincing pantomime of omniscience. Words cannot describe how annoying it is.”
“You know what, I believe that. Well, lead on then, Vylkher old buddy. I’d hate to be such a poor guest as to keep my hosts waiting.”
He straightened up, bowed shallowly to me, and turned to walk away across a bridge without another word. Reticent chap, Vylkher. I liked that trait in people who weren’t me. Less competition for the spotlight.
So off we went, to my next performance. The squirrelfolk had not seemed terribly impressed with Lord Seiji the party member, and only cautiously hospitable to Seiji the free healer. Now we would see how they enjoyed meeting the Dark Lord.
Comments
Motanium
Agreed, Seiji could try to bargain information about the witch in the line of what anyone could glean from scouting. At least that would save them some time.
Too Much Sanity May Be Madness
I'm surprised they didn't at least try to push for some more information about the witch. Direct assistance might be out of the question, but anything — abilities, force size, even a better idea of location — would be useful for them to know, with as much of an information deficit as the adventuring party has. And beneficial in terms of getting rid of this witch with minimal risk, if the squirrels are that afraid of her. On a completely different note, I hope that Seiji has a chance to perform with the guitar they've gifted him before he leaves. Or perhaps on the way back.
Russell Todd
With the Seer's insight as advice, I gotta wonder what the chief is thinking of Seiji. My impression of history is that most, if not all, of the Dark Lords have been dreadfully powerful. The idea of having one of those interested in helping your tribe out with few strings attached has to be exciting in a scary way.
Sleepless
The Seer's ability to discern truth could actually really help Seiji here. Is he a complete asshole? Yes. Does he genuinely want to help? Also yes.
