Difference between revisions of "Amanita (Chapter 32)"

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(Created page with "{{Amanita nav}} I woke up slow the next morning, just like the last morning. Clean mountain air doesn't suit me, I guess. As I blinked awake, a shadow not much smaller than ...")
 
(Created redirect after moving content to Amanita (Act V) page)
 
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#REDIRECT [[Amanita (Act V)#Chapter 32]]
I woke up slow the next morning, just like the last morning.  Clean mountain air doesn't suit me, I guess.  As I blinked awake, a shadow not much smaller than a mountain was quietly looming next to the bed.  I pulled my furry blanket up and said, "Do you mind?"
 
 
 
"I want to thank you for rescuing my men," Qual-Kehk said quietly.  "They have spoken well of your bravery."
 
 
 
"Oh," I replied. "Uh... you're welcome."
 
 
 
"It has been two days since you and your companion Cain joined us.  In that time, I have heard no end to his questions, yet you rarely make a sound.  When a warrior claims a great victory, he should shout it to the four corners of the earth, so his triumph will live on in song long after he has joined his ancestors.  Do you not celebrate victories?  Your ways are strange, but any warrior should be proud to have done what you have done."
 
 
 
It didn't look like he was going to move anytime soon, so I grabbed my top and put it on under the blanket.  "Uh, yeah.  Sorry.  I'm... kind of shy."
 
 
 
"Yes, I see.  You come and go so quietly and so fast, this is the only way I could be sure to find you, but I see now you know your deeds should speak for you.  It is good to think so.  Words without action are but wasted breath.  Though perhaps you also believe that none here will think a female worthy of a hero's mantle."
 
 
 
I was grabbing for my pants.  "Uh... that kind of did occur to me."
 
 
 
"Though not... common, it is not unknown for a woman to learn the ways of war.  On the field of battle, one's deeds are what matters.  When night falls, come to the fire, and speak to your companions in arms.  Tell us of your triumphs, and we will tell you of ours."
 
 
 
"Yeah, okay," I said, throwing off the blanket and wincing as my bare feet touched the icy floor.  "Um... are you planning on sending your men out again?"
 
 
 
Qual-Kehk frowned, but mostly in bafflement.  "Who could stop them?  They are rested and fed now, eager to avenge their dishonor.  Baal's forces are making their way here again, and now we have the numbers to give them a more proper greeting."
 
 
 
"They're attacking the city again?" I said as I pulled on my padding.
 
 
 
"Baal longs to destroy us, as he has all else in our lands."
 
 
 
"Good," I mumbled, planning my next move.  Baal's not coming to Harrogath himself, he's got better things to do.  But the fewer bodies between me and him, the better.  Behind enemy lines sounds like the place I want to be.  "I'm heading out by waypoint."
 
 
 
"The enchanted stones?  Aye, Cain has told me of their purpose.  My people have no need of them.  Before you vanish and I do not see you again, take these," he said, dropping three runestones in my hand.  "I was going to put them in a shield, but you may find a better use for them.  Fare thee well."
 
 
 
Three runestones, and not the most common ones either.  At least, I hadn't seen any of them before.  Not bad.  I suited up and headed out.  Last night, I'd found a narrow section of hills and fences being guarded by some Death Maulers, with the waypoint just beyond.  In daylight, I could see I was on a flat plateau on the side of the mountain.  The ground was a churned-up mess of footprints and wheel tracks, but no one was anywhere near.
 
 
 
I headed back to the narrows and looked down.  An army's worth of tracks headed down into the hills.  The corpses I'd left last night were nothing but pink smears in the mud.  Harrogath was safe under the dome.  Qual-Kehk and his boys would attack anyway.  Maybe they could handle them, maybe they couldn't, it wouldn't make much difference.  I turned around and started up the plateau.
 
 
 
A little ways up and I could see yet another Barbarian barricade ahead.  With all the energy they put into making the things, they could at least have made them better.  There were also a few scattered whip-wielding toads, driving groups of humanoid demons towards the hills.  I guess the little guys are some kind of slave, maybe not even real demons.  Didn't stop me from shooting them, of course.  After its slaves started dying, the toad made a growling noise and lashed at a survivor.  The humanoid squealed, fell to its hands and knees... and swelled.  Its whole body looked like a boil about to burst.
 
 
 
Whatever else that whip did, it also burned my poison out of the slave.  With a strangled squawk, it staggered to its feet and came straight at me, apparently as healthy as ever.  Now, it dropped its sword when the toad demon hit it, but I'm not in the habit of letting screaming naked guys get anywhere near me.  I put another bolt in it.  The humanoid stopped, blinked at me, and exploded.  Yuck.  Maybe taking out the leader first would have been a better idea.
 
 
 
The next group I met I tried slapping around mentally, to see if I could confuse the slaves into attacking the master.  It appeals to my sense of fair play.  Imagine my surprise when the toad started attacking the humanoids.  Then it looked at me with what might pass for love, raised its whip, and YEEEEHAAAAAH!!!  INSTANT HIGH THE AIR IS ON FIRE AND I'M ON MY WAY TO THE MOOOOON!!!  I pumped bolts into the slaves, the bow cracking as I pulled and slammed the trigger again and again!  Then the toad turned on me.  They always do.  I killed him.  I still felt buzzed.  And dirty.  And for some reason, I really needed a smoke.
 
 
 
Lucky for me, a fire was burning right outside a little hut not far ahead.  I killed the slave creature coming out the door and lit a cigar.  Another slave came out.  While it was dying, another came out.  Weird, the hut just wasn't that big.  After the fifth one, I kicked the roof in and moved on.  There were a few more slave-master groups, but whatever happened that one time didn't happen again.  Maybe that was a good thing.  I might get to like it too much.
 
 
 
The barricade was manned-- or Imped-- and had catapults.  Damn it, Assassins are supposed to slip through walls like they were air, and no one would ever know but the target.  There is an art to getting through walls.  It's one of the physical arts, the martial artists are best at it.  I, meanwhile, had to do it the old-fashioned way.  I even tried an axe on a door, but it was so clumsy I went back to the katar.
 
 
 
Beyond the barricade was another Hellgate.  I've got to remember to tell Cain about these.  Having this many gates to the infernal abyss open can't be a good thing.  Inside, I was back at the river of fire again.  How big is this river, anyway?  This particular set of islands must be where Baal keeps his slaves, with masters to keep them in line.  There were also more bull-men, bigger and smarter than the last crowd.  They didn't confuse very well, but it was easy enough to shoot them across the gaps between islands.
 
 
 
Another barricade went by, and another one.  It was getting dark when I found the top of the plateau.  It ended in a cliff, with nowhere to go but straight up.  Along with a few Imps, a pack of masters without any slaves was there.  Maybe they were masters to the other masters, they had pretty good gear.  They were fast enough to chase me, and the biggest one knocked me around a while, but I just didn't feel the love.
 
 
 
The only thing I found up there was a weird-looking burial urn.  Baal wasn't around.  He was somewhere on the mountain, but I'd probably have to scour the whole damned rock to find him.  Hell... chasing Diablo didn't do me any good either.  I couldn't get him until he stopped running.  I took a few puffs on the last of my cigar and thought about that.  Going after Baal isn't doing me any good.  This would be over a lot quicker if he had reason to come after me.  Now, why would he come after me?  The only thing he's after is the Worldstone, and I doubt I can fool him into thinking I've got that.
 
 
 
Back in Harrogath, there was a big fire in the main square.  A lot of powerful voices were singing and chanting.  I looked.  Where the Barbs got an ale cask, I didn't know, but there it was, with lots of big, beefy brutes singing and bragging about the day's kills.  I don't brag about kills.  The ideal kill is one where no one has any idea you did it.  Cain was down there, looking small and frail.  A hearty backslap from someone with arms the size of cows almost knocked him into the well.  There was Malah, with a beer mustache.  Larzuk and some other guy are arm-wrestling... ouch, poor guy. 
 
 
 
Eh, what the hell.  I went down there with them.
 

Latest revision as of 17:02, 13 February 2017