"Doesn't look like they're launching an assault just yet," Zell said to no one in particular as he surveyed, with narrowed eyes, what little he could make out of Valhiem's eastern wall. From the spot they'd taken up high in the hills, south of the city, it was at least clear to see a bulk of the enemy camp on the eastside. The tall siegetowers, the cascade of artillery fire, the ant-like mass of distant tents and figures. "We'll know if they start cuz them siegetowers'll start moving."
Zell left the precipice and went back to the bit of flat ground that was their temporary camp. He put down a spare bedroll and laid out some foods he'd taken from the temple kitchen. It wasn't much - some fruits, meats and bread, suprisingly well packaged for a crazy magic world with gods, swords n shields and what-not.
When Fenna was handling Sil, Zell watched her do her thing with admiration. "No need to ask if you're sure this will work," he said to the Ranger. "She's probably smarter than I am, of course it'll work," he complimented the falcon with a grin. "How does it work...? With you n her? Do you talk to her, in your mind?"
After Sil flew off, Zell dropped his crutch and squatted down before falling back onto his bedroll, stretching out and linking his hands behind his head with a content sigh. It was all forced. He wasn't nearly as relaxed and nonchalant as he was making out. Still, it was nice to actually lie down as opposed to resting on a bumpy wagon ride, not to mention all that walking up and down through the hills to get to this location had brought on extra loud protests of pain from his bad leg.
With closed eyes, he envisioned the coming battle. Oh how ready he was. After fighting wraiths he couldn't even hit for the better of last night, then having to deal with the highly skilled Zigmund 'Tin Can' Magoo, he was
so down to start tearing through hordes of goblins and skellies and whatever else the Bitch Queen could throw at them.
Valhiem will not fall, he told himself, visualizing the moment when the tables turned in favour of the defenders. Visualizing the moment when all their allies would roar and cheer at the sweet taste of victory.
The Source Comm message was but a mere thought, sat alone in the depths of his mind.
This was more important. Saving the city. For the sake of his sharp-fanged friend. For the sake of Right and Good. His own needs could come afterwards.
"It is not cringey, I do not think," - "It is noble and dignified. We are heroes now and we must act accordingly."Yeah, I guess, Zell thought in reply to the memory. He fooled himself into thinking it was a begrudging agreement. Deep down, he really
was starting to get used to this 'hero' thing. He'd have to be an anti-hero though. He'd always been a selfish, egotistical bastard and he quite liked that about himself. He wouldn't be white-knighting anytime soon.
...
When MacKensie was about to leave to go back to the road where she would meet Clive, Zell called to her. "Hey." He waited for her to see the seriousness in his eyes. "Watch yourself out there, kay. If there's trouble, just disappear. Don't be fighting on your own." With a nod, he left it at that and then watched her go. Part of him wanted to go with her, but he'd only slow her down and probably put her in
more danger trying to rescue him from some BS. Once she was out of sight, he took a breath and turned back to the business of watching paint dry.
...
He found himself back on the precipice of the hill where the view of Valhiem was, bored out of his mind. Barracker, who'd been understandably antsy the whole time, joined him.
“It has been a long day.”"Too right," Zell agreed. "And set to be even longer. The minutes are going by about as slow as sludge, stuck up here."
“I have come to the conclusion you like, well… more than like. You are possibly in love with MacKensie."Zell damn-near jumped in surprise. That came out of nowhere! "Jesus Christ, mate, calm down, will ya." He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one overheard them. Thank fuck the coast was clear. He looked bewilderedly at Barracker, then looked back out onto Valhiem. "Don't go throwing the L-word around, fuck's sake, I've only known the girl five minutes."
This was actually extraordinary. Zell could not remember the last time he'd been even remotely embarassed in girl-related talk. On topics like this, he was usually unflappable, uninvested and completely devoid of self-doubt. And here he was, almost blushing like a simp. And he was right; he'd not known MacKensie long at all. He wondered about his feelings on this matter before - why they were so strong - and he guessed it was the same reason that he cared so much about all of Second Chance... the same reason he called James 'his best friend...' It was the fighting. Fighting for survival against overwhelming odds, side by side, shoulder to shoulder. Repeated life-threatening danger with the highest stakes. Such a situation just intensified every thought - every emotion. Mix that in with good ol' physical attraction and one can only guess that it was a recipe for rapidly developing feelings.
Fuck, I only talked to him in Golden Tree Park like that because I thought he was complete stranger that I'd never see again. And now he's figured out who I was talking about! Not fucking ideal."You also care for Second Chance, and doing good by them, which I applaud.”Zell managed to get his bearings in the conversation and realised that there was must have been a 'But' coming next. "I appreciate you saying so. I'll always do my part for the good of the team. Sure as snow in winter. But where's this going?" And that's when Barracker dropped another bomb. Baphomet. He knew. Of course he knew, he was a fucking Paladin.
Oh shit, Zell realised. A Paladin. This was not good. "Oh, you err..." A nervous chuckle. "You heard that, did you? Well... I suppose I wasn't exactly inconspicious, shouting full-blast, was I."
“He is one of the most powerful devils in hell. A prince of the oblivion plane. In this world, his name holds enormous weight in our history and folklore, and I could not wish the fate of my worst enemy to fall in his grasp. He has tricked strong warriors, more righteous than most down a dark path, just for a flicker of his strength. In the mythic age, a group of fully ascended warriors could not handle a full frontal attack against the devil. His ways into this world are from the dark domain and evil. He is as smart as he is powerful, immortal and wise, ruthless and destructive. That is why I urge you to tell me why Baphomet has come from your mouth.”Even after being harassed by the Devil in his last few dreams, all of this information was completely new to Zell. And it was a little more than terrifying.
This was what I signed up for!? was the main thought in his mind.
I knew it was bad... but holy shit."Well..." Zell didn't know where to start. Or what to hide. "He sounds like a real bastard, that's for sure." Zell felt a light fog of perspiration on his forehead. "I dunno, mate. It's just what you say when you want to use the sword's power." His pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the hilt of The Black Sword. "I don't make the rules. I certainly ain't into no Dark Domain nonsense."
“I urge you to leave nothing out and tell me, every detail is important. If you truly wish the best for yourself, your love and your friends.”Barracker was pressing the matter hard. Like, real hard. Zell turned to face him properly, feeling the urgency in his friend. Of course Zell knew how urgent the situation was - He was being haunted by a fucking Devil, after all. He just figured he would deal with it, on the fly, until a better situation presented itself. But there wasn't just urgency in Barracker's voice. Kass sounded like a police officer right now. Threat. Authority. Relentlessness. Cold justice in the chamber, ready to strike.
"Look, mate: I stole this fucking sword from Zigmund, the first time we encountered him. It was a beauty. Right powerful. Of course, I kept it. Had it checked out. Found out that; once a day, I can make a single strike with the sword that'll cut through anything. All I had to say was, 'Take Vor, Baphomet.' Sounded like a fucking spell to me - what do I know, right? I don't know the fucking history of Mytheria."
Zell knew he couldn't be this close to an angry vampire and lie in the man's face without getting caught, so he made sure everything he said was truthful. But he didn't want to share the rest of the story. The dreams, the harassment. For all Zell knew, he might be possessed by the Devil and this crazy fucking Quinity-loving Paladin was about to demand a painful exorcism or worse yet, execution!
"So I used the power."
Don't tell him about the drunken night out! "And it works. Talk about karma for old Ziggy boy, eh. Ha."
The laugh was weak. Zell waited with bated breath for Barracker's response.
