A Gamer's Guide 372

Blood compass wasn’t working anymore.

Bloodless? Dead? No, not dead. Never dead. Bad compass. Foul thing. When opened, it was found that the little vial was empty. No blood. But when vial was smashed against floor of carriage, strange smell erupted, like milk or flowers. 

Gross. 

Replaced it with other vial, vial for finding Sythe. Still moving. Sythe, still alive, full of blood. Good. Lack of Sythe bad; make killing it harder. 

Knock on flap to driver.

Pathetic Coward: Here. Use this to bring us to the herald.

Driver: Yes, [Pathetic Coward]. If everything goes according to plan, I believe we will be there within the hour.

Pathetic Coward: Thank you.

Close flap. 

Alone with thoughts. Remove books from inside coat. One, Acheron. Other, Oran. Read names to not hear thoughts. Bookmark to find last names. Read names. Pray.

Pray to God of praying pray to God of surviving pray to God of continuing pray to God of hope pray to God of gods pray to God of respect pray to God of not dying pray to God of silence silence forever.

Driver: We’ve arrived, [Pathetic coward].

Someone else opens door to carriage. Exit. Poor subjects fall to their knees before their deplorable Pathetic Coward the Cursed of Three, sole remaining scraps of the big feast, unwanted tyrant of Acheron and bower to the imperial throne.

Stench. Rotten grapes, burnt caramel. Charred carcass of big house, subjects pause their rifling to bow. 

HUMAN: [Pathetic Coward], I not able thank enough for army. Without, not win. 

Pathetic Coward: It was the least I could do, oh Huntress, considering the situation. (Bow to show respect even if HUMAN.) If I am to be fully frank with you, I am most pleased to see that so many of my humble men have survived the ordeal. (Not all many maybe most lie in mushed pile like jam stench of rosilver.) Especially since I now see that you fought not a mere herald, but indeed a four-winged dragon. 

HUMAN: Ah, yes, that… (Anxious. HUMAN anxious. Why?) I not speak good. Mayhaps…?

Sythe: [Pathetic Coward], would you mind if your ever-loyal [slave] presented the events of this most strange and fanciful evening?

Look to HUMAN. Remember ability. Find anything. Powerful ability of Huntress. Find it. Must ask. Must request. Blood of soldier for blood of it. 

Pathetic Coward: Not at all, Sythe. By all means.

Other HUMAN approach. Two. Walking upright not hunched over skin covered by ordinary clothes not showing ribs not showing pale skin not showing brand, females both, participants of the battle holding weapons not for attack, to be trusted then, to not be feared, not feared at all or else they may make themselves feared as it did. 

HUMAN 2 (with the sword): [Pathetic Coward], before that, if I could… (HUMAN bows. Uncertain face.) Much has happened here. To be honest, I find it difficult to even come to terms with everything, but… I assure you that we did everything we could, and the outcome was better than anything we might have hoped for. 

Worrying. Worrying. 

Chuckle to relieve strained mood. Still goblin. Still normal. 

Pathetic Coward: I’m glad to hear that. Pray, hold me in suspense no longer. What exactly happened here?

Sythe explains. A tale of a dragon and a boy and the it that undid them to become more. 

It had been there. Mere hours earlier, being, doing, saving, becoming. 

Pathetic Coward: I see.

Hurry? Too late. HUMAN would not help. Obvious. HUMAN liked it. Other HUMANS the same. And Sythe…

Sythe: You see, [Pathetic coward]? We have been made witness to a historical event! The birth of a new god, but not only that, a god separated from our God of Multitudes! The Goddess of Children explained it to us. What immense kindness from a divine being! A god capable of consuming and undoing the foul heralds of the god of kings. This is immense! Praise be to the God of Hope!

Hysteria. Delirium? What word to fit? 

Anathema.

Turn to HUMAN. 

HUMAN: It is truth, [Pathetic Coward]. As Apostle of Hunting, I… add-truth? Agree.

Pathetic Coward: I see. This is indeed a very serious situation. Have you spread this information anywhere else?

Share of gazes among HUMANS.

HUMAN: No, [Pathetic Coward].

HUMAN 3: I was considering it, but [HUMAN 2] made me keep it off the forums until you arrived. Wait, sorry, [Pathetic Coward]. My bad.

Pathetic Coward: Good. In that case, I’m afraid I must request the assistance of one of you in order to send a message to the Emperor. 

HUMANS look to each other. Camaraderie. Know they are separate, other. 

HUMAN: I would not suit… Bad speak, write.

HUMAN 3: I don’t mind. What’s his proxy’s username?

Motion for HUMAN 3 to enter carriage. Door closed by others. Privacy.

Pathetic Coward: I must inform you that by agreeing to this, you are likewise agreeing to perfect secrecy in all matters regarding this message’s contents, including that it has been sent. 

HUMAN 3: Yeah, alright. I don’t mind.

Pathetic Coward: Good. In that case, the name of the Emperor’s proxy is FlamingoFountain.

HUMAN 3: Right, okay… Found him. What should I send?

Pathetic Coward: Allow me to dictate…

Dear Hark,

I write to you in a time of great uncertainty and greater need. It is my fear that should the contents of this message be spread in a hasty or thoughtless manner, it may spark a conflict far worse than the previous war with the kingdom of Ret-Inn—perhaps all wars that have come before this. Therefore, I ask that you scrutinize this message closely, and if you agree with my position, begin immediate mobilization. 

Lo Fennrick, the human culpable of the murder of Acheron and Oran, has ascended to godhood. This unfathomable turn was enabled by the appearance of an apostle of the God of Kings, an entity which doubtlessly would incur less tragedy than what is to come. According to those that witnessed the event—my trustworthy general Sythe; the revered Apostle of Hunting; Her Divine self the Goddess of Children—he has become the ‘God of Hope,’ with divinity equal to a member of our God of Multitudes without being a part of it.

He has become an outsider God, as foreign to us as the loathsome God of Kings, and is therefore to be treated the same. 

If this information alone is somehow insufficient in convincing you of the dire threat this poses to your solemn nation, I must also tell of this “God of Hope’s” first miracle. He has resurrected Garath the Pesticide and turned him into his personal angel, white and four-winged. As I know you are well learned in ancient history, I will omit any explanation of why this is as worrisome as the vagrant god. 

With swift, decisive action, we might still have a chance to undo this error before it undoes us all. 

As per previous intel from affected humans, we have good reason to presume he will continue to pursue the ledges. As we do not know to which Gods he owes his powers, we must set garrisons nearby any city containing more than ten different churches. If we request the assistance of the humans, I am assured that we can arrange a network of information capable of spotting the “God of Hope” and informing nearby troops instantly. 

There is no room for hesitation. You must act quickly. I will leave immediately in the direction the “God of Hope” went. 

To repeat, he is riding a white four-winged dragon, accompanied by a lame young man. According to the witnesses, he may have turned entirely white, including his hair. I will send a portrait to you post-haste, though I doubt his steed will obscure his identity. 

Once more, this being is an anathema to all that is living and good in this world. He is a demon of fire and must be destroyed.

If this mission kills me, do not allow my men to retreat. Spare no money for a funeral. 

I will be at rest when he is dead. 

Your ever-faithful friend and ally,

ierum ipsum aate,

[Pathetic coward]