PierceGrey
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Chapter 296: Good pep talk
🕑 Added 2024-07-02 14:00:06 +0000 UTCThe longer the group waited in the 'guest room' in relative comfort, the more uncomfortable Mason got. It might have been a personal flaw. Paranoia, Blake might say. Mason just thought it good sense.
If this were a 'normal' situation—at least as 'normal' as being the guest of a bunch of medieval fantasy bird people might be—he might accept they were really 'guests'.
But this was the game, the post-apocalyptic AI shitshow, and they weren't just here to sit around and nap on a couch while some 'prophet' took care of everything.
"Why you look miserable?" Alex said, drink in hand and what for him counted as a grin. As usual, from the stone-faced eastern European, Mason honestly had no idea if this was supposed to be a joke.
"Because I can't get drunk," he answered, deciding to take it as humor. Alex just nodded like this made perfect sense, and Mason had no idea if they'd exchanged witticisms or facts.
"Want me to go take a look around?" Carl said, stretching and sitting up on the edge of his seat. Mason frowned, considering it but not thrilled about the idea of annoying his hosts if Carl got caught.
The man might be basically invisible with his new power, but Mason could smell him from across the room. He had to assume animal-men might have similar powers or senses.
He shook his head, then started disentangling from a napping Becky, about to go talk to the priest when Streak growled and stuck his head up from the floor.
Mason didn't sense it, but he trusted Streak.
He was up with his Claws ready to spring, crossing to the door before anyone had time to ask what the hell. He listened but heard nothing, then focused his mind on Streak to understand.
"The window?" he asked, a little confused. He crossed and stared out at the sky from a barred window, noticing it had some kind of thick wooden shutter to completely seal it off. He sighed as he saw the large, plane-like silhouette somewhere in the clouds.
"I'm guessing that's a not-a-dragon."
Carl came running to see before Mason turned away. Getting a look from so far away didn't do him much good. Was it even his problem? The priest came to look next to Carl, soon making another religious gesture as he stared.
"Nephus protect us," he said, shaking his head. "That’s a Destroyer."
When Mason made no special indication of recognition or alarm, the priest raised a brow.
"An elder drake. The most dangerous threat to civilized folk across this land. Since men made records."
"This is my worried face," Mason said. "So what do we do about it? Couldn't it just be...flying by?"
The priest snorted. "The great drakes are nothing if not predictable. It only shows itself when it wishes, and always on purpose. It wants a sacrifice."
Mason didn't much like the sound of that. He wasn't a fantasy-world bird man, but he was pretty sure if he was king and needed to find someone to feed to a dragon, some not entirely welcome guests might do nicely.
"They're going to feed us to that dragon, aren't they," he muttered. The priest smirked but shook his head.
"Not unless you have royal blood, and different bits between your legs. No. It will want the princess, or the queen. But she may be too old now." He sighed and looked away. "It must have sensed the weakness here. This may break what little strength is left in the ruling house. But they'll have no choice but to comply. If they do nothing, the beast will ravage the city."
Mason sighed as he gently woke Becky. When she was up and conscious he stood and headed for the door.
"Two teams, I'm thinking. Seems like this place wants that and I don't see a reason to fight it. One on the castle, the other on the ground. Becky, Seamus, you're with me. Let's call that the 'air team'. If we manage to bring the thing down, I want the rest of you including Streak ready to attack."
The other players were up in a blink, rolling their necks or blowing air through their lips, Phuong giving Carl a wink. The priest stared in something like disbelief.
"You don't...I mean, you can't mean to fight it. It's a Destroyer. Nothing…no one has stood and fought a Destroyer in recorded history. At least not and survived."
Mason shrugged, genuinely disinterested. He tried the door handle and found it locked, knocking and waiting before he ripped the thing off and broke it open with a crack.
"Then I'm coming with you," said the priest, clutching his charm with white knuckles. "Perhaps if we fight and die against this monstrosity, the people of this city will see Nephus will always try to protect life."
"Uh huh," Mason said, then glanced at Phuong. "Make your way to the ground level. But don't kill anyone if they stop you. I expect once the fighting starts up top you'll be able to do what you like in the chaos."
"Understood, Patron," Phuong said, gesturing for Alex several times before the Belarusian finally groaned and stood with the rest of them. He wobbled slightly on his feet, and everyone stared.
"I am old, not drunk," he said. "I think maybe wine is more like...for children."
"Seriously, guys, I can't tell. Was that a joke?" Mason said to the others, then just shrugged and walked out towards the hall.
*
"You there, stop! Where are you going?"
Sometimes Mason really wished roboGod didn't translate everything. He tried pretending he didn't speak bird-man, smiling politely as he walked by a guard or two before realizing in this world his strategy made no sense.
"Stop, I said!" said the closest guard, and Mason finally turned.
"The prince sent for us," he said, cursing his lack of Blake for the fiftieth time. "There's a Destroyer, in case you didn't hear."
"There's a..." the guard blanched, then narrowed his golden eyes. "No one told me about moving you," he said, somewhere between annoyed and unsure. Mason just shrugged like he didn't care or know anything either.
"I can go back, if you want, pretty happy to drink and sit on those cushions. But the prince might not be happy."
The guard winced and finally walked ahead, waving them on. "Come with me," he said. "the stupid servants probably didn't tell the captain."
Mason was happy to follow as long as they were going up. They ascended a handful of floors and passed a dozen nervous guards before a roar echoed through the halls. The guard stopped and practically shivered, looking back at Mason with suddenly empathetic eyes.
"So you were telling the truth." He shook his head sadly. "Haven't heard that since I was a boy. A terrible thing. Terrible. They'll give it the queen, I suppose."
Finally the guard looked up and realized half his 'guests' were missing. Phuong, Alex and Carl had all slipped away towards the ground level, and only Mason and the others remained.
"Hey now...where did..."
Mason walked up without a word, twisted the guard around and put him in a chokehold. He had to be extra careful not to crush the poor fellow with his ever-improving strength, but after several helpless slaps and a few grunts of protest, it didn't take long to choke the man out. Mason dragged him into a nearby room and closed the door.
"He'll wake up quick, but it'll do," he said. "Let's go."
They climbed several more flights of stairs, passing a few curious guards who stared long and hard but didn't stop them. It probably helped that not a single one of them actually carried a weapon—with all of them now having something innate.
There were several open balconies now where the bird guards and probably servants came and went to the royal floors. Mason stepped out onto one and looked up.
"We could climb the rest of the way easily enough. Or at least I could." He sighed. "But I didn't bring any damn rope. Becky can probably manage but I expect it's a bit much for..." Mason glanced at Seamus and the priest. "For the rest of you."
"Oh!" Seamus grinned. "I can fly now. Well, hover. Float? You can probly just pull me up."
Mason blinked at that, but decided just to accept it.
"I'll find my way up," said the priest with a smile. "Don't be afraid, my friends, Nephus will be there to greet us in the afterlife. Our deaths to the Destroyer will be quick. And after, eternal glory."
"Good pep talk," Mason said, and the man beamed like it wasn't sarcasm.
With that Mason grabbed Seamus with one hand, and the roof of the balcony with the other. He pulled himself up rather easily, put up a leg, then lifted himself and Seamus over. The Irishman stared and swallowed at the top.
"I, um, didn't start floating yet."
Mason met the man's eyes with a 'best remember that moment' amused grin, then reached down to help Becky. He pulled her up just as easily, and she gave him a much more enjoyable, private look.
"You figure this thing's as bad as that priest thinks?" she asked as they climbed up towards the mostly flat top of the castle.
"Probably," Mason said, then looked back and gave her a wink. "But so are we."
At the top of the structure Mason discovered they were completely alone. It seemed the bird guards had all fled inside, probably to report to superiors to figure out what the hell they were supposed to be doing. Or just because they were terrified.
It suited him fine. He watched the silhouette of the creature growing larger and larger as it circled and descended, clearly wanting everyone to take a nice, long look.
Mason obliged. He flicked through Endless Quiver and summoned his elven bow, judging the distance as he turned on Hunter's Mark.
Turned out it didn't work from such a distance, but he wasn't that concerned. He had a plan already as soon as the thing got in range.
Killing it in the air seemed incredibly unlikely. No doubt it was covered in hide or scales too strong and thick to pierce deeply. But it took huge, wide wings to keep a body like that in the air. Mason watched the thin flesh and grinned, eager to punch a few holes.
"We get it grounded," he said to the others. "You burn those wings as soon as you're in range, Seamus. Becky will keep you alive."
"Aye, aye, chiefy," Seamus said, his staff appearing in his hand.
They all stood and watched as the creature came lower and lower, the immense size becoming increasingly clear.
"But um," Seamus asked with a swallow. "Who's going to keep you two alive?"
Mason ignored the man, an eagerness already pumping through his limbs. He was in range now, and the thing was still coming closer. He drew back his bow.
