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Chapter 115: The meeting
🕑 Added 2023-10-24 14:00:03 +0000 UTCAfter leaving Rebecca an exhausted, sweaty, sex-stained mess, Mason stretched and enjoyed the soft pillow and sheets in the chieftain’s hall room. He could smell something cooking in the kitchen, Haley’s soft voice echoing down the hall. But after a few moments of quiet his mind drifted back to the rain and the hills and the battle with the orcs. Then to his strange new power and the way it made him feel.
“You were pretty amazing, you know,” he said.
“You weren’t so bad yourself,” Rebecca mumbled, and Mason laughed.
“I meant with the orcs. I was thinking about the battle. I was watching. They all tried to take you down and couldn’t.”
She sat up a little, holding the sheet over herself as if they hadn’t just spent the last hour screwing each other’s brains out.
“Seul-ki helped,” she grinned. “Anyway, nevermind me, you’re the one who came outta the woods like bigfoot, naked and sportin’ claws.”
Mason laughed but felt his humor drain faster than it should have. “I don’t remember it well, to be honest. It's...a very strange power. I'm not sure I should even use it again.”
“That sounds too serious for naked cuddles.” She gave him a squeeze and sighed. “What time is it?”
He smiled. “I don’t care.” But then he realized he should probably talk to Blake more seriously about the worm, and prestige classes, and ‘Makers’ and Phase two… “Actually I should go talk to Blake,” he sighed, and Rebecca gripped his chest.
“I'm not finished with you yet.”
He patted her arm. “I can stick around town for a few days, I think. I'll come right back.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” She released her death grip and got out of bed, then he showered off and wandered past Haley, stopping to give her a quick squeeze. She just grinned and kept on singing over her cooking, and he wandered out into the hall.
There were plenty of people as usual. A mix of refugees, original citizens, and the new people from Sanctuary. Most gave Mason looks he either didn’t recognize or had no idea what to do with. But he did his best to meet the eyes and smiles with one of his own or a nod.
See? Getting better at ‘this’, Blake, he thought, just like you said, Blake.
He found his brother in his office, dressed in what could only be called post-apocalyptic business casual.
“There he is. Good timing, I’ve just rounded up the others.”
“Uh. What others?” Mason glanced at the empty office before Blake came out and took his arm.
“This way.”
He led them to what Mason supposed might have been a ‘conference room’, with apparently every player but Rebecca sitting around the table with a mug or a glass. Haley swooped in behind them with a large tray of cookies, dressed smartly in office attire like she hadn’t just been having a threesome most of the day. She gave Mason a wink on the way by.
“When did you…” he cleared his throat and glanced at the others. “Uh hi. What are we discussing?”
“Our plans,” Blake said, nodding at the others before taking his seat. When Mason gestured to explain further he rolled his eyes. “To deal with the giant orc fortress that is likely hell bent on our destruction."
"Oh. That."
He found a seat next to Carl, who looked him up and down and grinned.
“Get enough beauty sleep?”
“You tell me.” Mason matched it, but turned sober. “How’s Silvie…and the girls?”
“Rosa is doing fine, I think,” Carl said without flinching. Mason opened his mouth and closed it, at something at a loss before Rebecca burst through the door.
"I'm here!" Her hair was still a sex-tangled mess, and she practically oozed ‘recently banged’ as she adjusted her shorts and sat down in the closest seat. Several people were grinning now, and she was just starting to turn pink when Blake clapped his hands.
"Well! Now that we're all present and accounted for. I have it on good authority—that is, the great artificial overlord himself—the orcs of the ‘Black Towers’ intend to obliterate us."
Everyone went quiet at that. Phuong spoke first.
"Thank you for telling us, patron. But may I ask, how exactly do you know that?"
"Because I'm me.” Blake grinned. “And none of that ‘patron’ nonsense. But if you must know, because as I was taking over the minds of our orc friends, I was able to see through their eyes. I saw their objectives. They think of them as ‘divine command’ from their various gods, incidentally, but the result is the same. I quote directly from a random orc warrior— ‘Objective: Destroy all human settlements in the Great Forest. Receive ‘Clan points’ for your family.’ I imagine their leaders have something similar.”
The players all shifted and whispered amongst themselves until Mason spoke.
"You're telling me, those creatures are getting orders from the system to kill us?"
"Precisely so."
"Jesus Christ.” Mason clenched a fist. “Why would it do that? I mean...isn't all this...aren’t these things basically like robots? Artificial things in the shape of fantasy creatures?”
Blake frowned and pursed his lips. "I don’t think so. I was in their minds, and they seemed quite conscious and sentient, much like humans. If they're some kind of biological robots, they are extremely convincing."
Again the room silenced, this time Garet broke it.
"So what do we do?"
"That's why we're here.” Blake drummed the table with both hands. “I thought we should discuss it. And perhaps vote."
"Vote on what?" Garet asked.
Blake pulled back and quirked his head. "I'm happy to hear suggestions. And I'm no general, but, I think basically...do we wait, or do we attack?"
"Attack?” Carl practically choked. “I mean….I know you folks haven’t seen it…but it’s a fortress. God only knows how many of them are in there."
"We killed quite a lot already,” Blake shrugged. “We can kill more."
"Aren't ya’ll forgetting an option?” Rebecca said, a little shyly. “Can’t we…uh, try talking to ‘em?"
A few people scoffed, which annoyed Mason because Rebecca went beet red. Blake didn’t, but he didn’t look optimistic.
"Anything’s possible. But I’m afraid it doesn’t seem likely."
"Why not?" Mason asked, genuinely curious.
"They seem to think of humans as some kind of…diametrically opposed entities. Eternal enemies only to be destroyed. A kind of blood feud, I believe is the correct description."
Everyone silenced again at that. Blake looked straight at Mason.
“Only you and Carl have seen this place. What do you think?”
Every eye turned to Mason, which as usual made him uncomfortable. “You don't want to know what I think,” he said and shook his head.
“That’s why we’re here, brother. Go on, we’re listening.”
Mason glared, feeling pulled back in time to when they’d first arrived at the settlement. “I think if they want to kill us, we leave. We go buy a giant boat with patron points, or find a coastal settlement. Or we split up and spread out. The system took away children, sick people, elderly—we can run. I say we do anything but play this stupid game by fighting a war with crazy, bloodthirsty orcs or giant fucking worms or legions of undead.”
There. He’d said it. It felt slightly petulant and stupid but a piece of him wanted nothing to do with any of this. The same piece just wanted to say ‘fuck this’, take his women and his brother and hide so deep in the forest nothing would ever find them.
The players were exchanging looks and Blake clearly looked like he needed to perform some kind of damage control. He was preparing to do just that when Mason sighed and spoke again.
“But if we don’t run, then defence is a losing strategy. You don't leave an enemy like that to think and plan. Who knows how they'll try and hurt you, or how far they'll go. If you all insist on staying here, then there’s only one choice. We go out there, and we wipe out every last one of them.”
“Amen to that,” said Carl with a wink, and the feeling more or less spread from player to player around the room. Only Blake seemed to frown and meet Mason’s eyes.
“Do we need to vote? I agree with Mason. Kill them all and get it over with,” said Tommaso, who had stayed to guard the settlement and had likely yet to see an orc.
A few grunts of agreement until Blake finally stopped it and called for a vote anyway, and everyone but him raised their hand to attack.
“I suppose that’s it then,” he shrugged. “But I’m still going to ask the civilians. They aren’t doing the fighting, of course. But if we all get killed, after all, they’ll be screwed too.”
No one said anything to that, though it was clear not many agreed. Blake seemed to sense it and shrugged.
“But it may not matter what they say. Thank you everyone, that’s all. Take a few days to rest and prepare. Then I expect Nassau is going to war.”
