A Record of Ash & Ruin: The Grieving Lands - Book 2: Chapter 41: Invaders

In the realm of the known, where men and monsters clash and a multitude of races struggle for their place in the sun, the human soul endures as a rare and enigmatic jewel. A singular force that, amidst the cacophony of life and strife, continues to defy the boundaries of reason and convention, seeking solace and strength in the tenderest of origins.

For it is said that the eternal disposition of the human psyche, that elusive force that governs the heart and mind, is born of a singular truth – that we, above all other creatures, linger longest in the embrace of our maternal guardian. In our infancy, we are fragile, unprepared to navigate the treacherous labyrinth that is existence. This vulnerability forms the bedrock of the human spirit.

– The Human Question by Gideon de Salavia 378 AC.

There was a chittering, and it was not from the dark creatures of the void, those beings that haunted me in my sleep. There were intruders in my sanctuary, my place of rest. Shouting in surprise, I reached for the dagger at my waist and prepared to do battle with the intruders.

Eyes now adjusting to the general gloom, I still could not see my enemies, save for small movements at the corner of my eyes. Damnations, I need to see, I thought to myself. Reaching for the bag at my waist, I grabbed a chunk of glowing Zajasite from its depths. Holding it in one hand in front of me, the stone immediately illuminated the interior of the wagon with its soft azure light.

Furry fluffballs were running amok in my wagon! Kidu and Elwin had already found their feet, and had begun stamping on what I could see were cute rodents. Yet, despite the pair’s wild struggles against these invaders, the animals evaded them, for the most part, and were getting everywhere, as more of their number came in.

“Stop!” I cried, and the pair looked at me, “No need to panic over such mighty foes.” I was disgusted with my earlier reaction. The great Gilgamesh reacting like a maiden before her first blood was truly an embarrassment.

These foul creatures would pay for their temerity.

I reached into my pack for a piece of jerky, before kneeling down and offering it to one of the balls of fluff. The animal knew no fear and, with great gall, sniffed it once before trying to take off with it. For its hubris, it would be punished as my other hand shot out and grasped it around its neck.

It squealed in surprise, and the other creatures echoed its cry of desperation. I brought it up closer to my eye, inspecting the absolutely adorable animal, and used a spell that served me well.

Whispermews – (Rodent lvl.1) Health: 6/6 Stamina: 12/12

Mana: 1/1

My Identify spell revealed to me that it was a weak little thing, barely worth killing. The tiny rascal beast had truly adorable beady eyes and soft fur. It looked like a cross between a ground squirrel and a lemming.

Looking at my companions, I asked them in an irritated voice, “What in heavens is a Whispermews?”

“Ah, these things. I thought they were rats. Hate those things. These cute little ones are Whispermews, they live under the grass here. Harmless. The rain probably flushed them all out of their burrows and they are here looking for shelter on the high ground. They are worth quite a bit; some of the noble lady folk like their fur for the insides of their clothes. Smooth, it is,” explained Elwin.

Suddenly, Kidu gave out a roar and smashed his hand against the side of the wagon, causing our temporary home to shake. “Harmless, you say, Elwin of Tucker. This one bit me!” growled the wildman, pointing at a crushed thing that once was a Whispermews.

Just as I was considering letting the cute creature in my hand go, Kidu’s shout caused it to relieve itself and I could feel liquid running down between the seams of my gauntlet.

I ended its life without a second thought, crushing it in my armored gauntlet and I unleashed a jubilant Entropic Aura to help deal with its cousins. If they were not worth the experience, at the very least they might be worth a few coins.

The other Whispermews were suicidally bold, and the death of two of their number whipped up the remainder of the animals into an ineffectual frenzy. They ignored the dark aura of my spell and threw themselves at us. Stab, stab went the Rogue’s knives as they thunked against wood after piercing through furred flesh, and his blades punched out a rhythm of a crazed metronome. Kidu needed no such weapons, and his ham-size hands made bloody work of the adorable rodents.

Though the creatures were ignoring my spell, my magic certainly was not ignoring them. They were slowed by the dark magic and their movements sluggish, a testament to what it was to go against the ravages of time. I added my own knife and armored fist to the savagery. An anger and irritation that had been building up within me found its vent. Satisfying crunches and sharp squeals filled my ears, as I smashed or sliced the rodents apart with vicious abandon. We were probably doing nature’s work by removing them from the gene pool, I reflected.

As the few creatures that remained finally scurried away with frantic squeals, I reined in my aura spell, forcing it back by the dent of my will and my growing mastery. During this encounter, for I dared not call it a fight, I learned some things. Several times during the fight I received notifications that I received zero experience for a kill.

However, after slaying a few of the creatures, my experience had risen by a whole point, which led me to the conclusion that my interface simply did not display fractions or decimals of numbers of the experience I was actually earning.

Another was that my Entropic Aura could kill, albeit very slowly. My memory, greatly improved by my Intelligence attribute, allowed me to recollect that one of the creatures had simply expired under the effects of the spell. The animal’s movements had begun to get slower and slower, as if it was trying to run through thick treacle before it gave up on life. The rodent toppled over and simply died, giving me a fraction of an experience point. The spell too, sensing that I wished no harm on the Whispermew corpses, did not cause their bodies to rot or spoil. A bonus, for if Elwin’s words were true, then these things could be turned into a pretty penny.

We began to tidy ourselves up before I found a survivor. This one was smarter than its cousins, having chosen to cower in the corner. Perhaps, I could be merciful. I reached forward and channeled a Heal, wasting precious Mana and filling the creature with my holy light which restored some of the damage caused by my Entropic Aura. For some reason, it simply felt like the right thing to do.

“Perhaps the little half-elf would like a pet. It will help to teach her responsibility, the caring of another life. These things do make for good pets, yes?” I asked, and my companions simply nodded dumbly. At times, I truly surprised myself with my magnanimity.

My piece said, I left my companions to do the annoying work of skinning the creatures and tidying up the insides of the wagon. Truly, I needed a breath of relatively fresh air, and a moment to myself. Nose curling, I decided my hands and gauntlets could probably do with a wash, too.

*

Later, that same day, we were able to sell the little pelts to some of the women of the camp. But unlike our expectations, we were only able to get half a silver for our troubles. The damn things truly were a nuisance. The only positive thing that day was the wide beaming smile that Larynda gave me when I handed her a cute, quivering ball of fur. As an added twist, we gave her some new jerky we had prepared that same day to feed the poor thing.

*

And life went on beneath the warded canvas.

Then one day, as if on a divine whim, the darkness ended and the rain stopped. There was the deluge, the torrent, then there was nothing but sunlight and a great double rainbow that arced across the sky, heralding the next phase of our journey.

Finally, I no longer had to put up with the stale air of a pressed humanity forced into close quarters for what seemed like weeks on end. Stepping outside the canvas, I saw before me a multitude of other camps similar to our own, dotting the hills. However, most surprising of all was in the distance, starting where the grassland met the desert of the Whispering Wastes, was a line of green that ended on the horizon. A river as straight as an arrow—the Green Road, as Laes had told it. The road we would be traveling for the rest of our journey to Al-Lazar.

The Ravens had already begun to break down the great tent under which we had all sheltered, beast and human alike. All around me was a hive of activity as people brought down, folded, packed, and stored the canvas. Only once this labor was finished, did the people of the caravan begin to prepare for the morning meal. There was none of the earlier air of festivity about the camp, only a grim industriousness that lent itself to shouted voices and a few well-placed kicks here and there on the younger, more-idle members of the caravan.

After a hurried meal, we bundled onto our respective vehicles and set off for the Green Road, well ahead of the other camps. It was a testament to Laes’ and Gelgor’s logistical skill that they were able to achieve this feat. Their wide wheels, leaving shallow tracks across the grass, rumbled forward across the muddy earth in a long procession.

It was quiet in the wagon without our charge with us, I noticed. Larynda would always pester us with her incessant questions, quite the font of curiosity, once she had gotten over her separation from the old Alchemist. To pass the time and extend my vocabulary, I played word games with Elwin and Kidu. Elwin and I both made sure to let Kidu win on occasion, to stop him from growing surly or belligerent.

Sticking my head out of the open shutters after a recent ‘loss,’ I saw the other groups perhaps half-a-day behind us. All in all, I judged that we were making good time. Even so, Laes pressed on well into the evening and only stopped an hour or two after sunset. Perhaps he was trying to make up for the lost time from the attack and the pointless funerals?

That same evening, after the caravan stopped, I was given a large chunk of Zajasite stone by Khalam, who instructed me to hang it about my borrowed mount’s neck. Mouse and I would be on a mounted night patrol, it seemed.

I was to be proven right, as I joined up with four other guards. Their numbers included Timur, my comrade in arms, and Arik, my riding instructor. The other two I had met before, but could not remember their names, for we had never been assigned together. They were both of Asian persuasion, swarthy, and short of limb. Luckily, they introduced themselves again to me.

“This one is Sukhbat, honored one, and this is my friend Tomorbat. It is often said that perhaps we shared the same father.”

“I can see that you both look much alike,” I replied evenly, in a neutral voice. Looking them both up and down I saw that one called Tomorbat’s figure was gently moving towards fat.

“Shared the same father? Bah, drivel! I am, of course, a much more handsome man. Pay him no need, we are cut from different cloth, he and I. Sukhbat is merely a childhood friend. Spend enough time around this rascal and anyone will surely change, for the worse mind you. Were it not for me, this ungrateful fool would have never learned to ride a horse, let alone throw a spear!” he guffawed good-naturedly.

“Ha! Were it not for me, you would have died three times over in the Grass Sea. You would have been nothing more than a banquet for the birds,” returned his friend.

“You would make a much more filling feast than I,” countered Tomorbat with a feigned growl.

This jibes against each other was old banter, more ceremony than anything else, and with none of the poison reserved for true hatred. It was, however, beginning to grate, and were it not for the fact that Timur and Arik were with us, I would have been tempted to turn the pair of them into experience points. I had never been good with inside jokes and weak attempts at humor, but nonetheless, I did my utmost to hide my displeasure behind a vacuous smile.

“Keep your wits about you,” Arik thankfully interjected, as exasperated as I was with the pair. “Tonight, we need to be on our toes. Bandits have been known to wait out the Weeping, to prey on those that have let down their guard. I will need you to keep your eyes and senses at the ready, men. The rains have been known to bring out more than just Whispermews!” the man chortled. All I could do was grit my teeth.