Lars Machmüller
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Theft of Decks 4, CH 46
🕑 Added 2025-10-17 10:00:02 +0000 UTC“I believed it impossible. Guardians are, on the whole, beyond general reach. Of course they are. Otherwise, anybody would be able to influence them, turn them to their use. Yet, I might have found a focal point. A fulcrum, able to grant me control, should my Keepers or their wards act up.” Well, then bloody tell me! What is it? Who censors their own diaries? I’ll dig him up and slap what’s left of his brains out of him. (Book 3, Page 51.)
“Chase! There you are, you bastard. I don’t mind admitting, mate, that was a close call.” Kith lay on his back in the soft grass, with an arm flung over his head. All around him, the others were similarly resting, with the only person moving being their healer, who was inspecting a deep cut on Gavin’s arm.
Chase didn’t answer for a moment. He stumbled past him and into the camp to find their goods, all stacked up like they’d been on the chariot before it was unsummoned. He grasped a water skin and drank, in deep, greedy gulps before he poured the rest over his head. Shaking himself like a dog, he finally regained a semblance of his normal self. “What happened? I didn’t really have the chance to see what was going on with you.”
Liam snorted. “No wonder. They really went for you, didn’t they? You’ll have to tell us how you escaped.” He paused, then nodded at Kith. “Kith was the one who saved us. We did as we planned. The moment things turned bad, we sent everything we had, summons, hostile cards, everything, at their flanks in one massive group, to burrow inward and keep them busy while those poor indebted got away.”
“Oh yeah.” Chase realized he’d forgotten all about their plight in his own fight for survival. “How did they fare?”
Liam grinned. “Not bad. I’d say two thirds of them ran. There’ll always be some who’re too afraid of the unknown, or where the Lightborn are threatening families back in their lands or the like. The Lightborn were too shocked, it seemed, to send forces out to catch them at first. Also, they were too busy to try to enact their own plan to react quickly. A few might’ve died fleeing, but not many.”
“Yeah.” Chase mused. His mind was beginning to work again, as he thought back to the initial moments of the struggle. “Those inquisitors went straight for me. I… think that whatever they had that allowed them to trail me that first day was still active. Some card effect that let them trace me.”
Liam nodded solemnly. “That would make sense. They could follow you all the damn time, feel you rummaging around just outside their reach. Probably had an elaborate trap ready for you. Then, at some point, when you failed to step into the trap, they decided to go for you instead.”
Banes barked a deep, booming laughter. “And you still escaped, leaving those inquisitors trailing in your wake. Are they still following, do you think?”
Kith sat half up with a shudder. “Urgh. Yes. I’m sure they are. Raudt and Svart, to the rescue. I’ll get to it.”
“No need for that, mate.” Chase said softly. “They’re dead. Only a handful of them still alive.”
For a while, nobody said anything. Then Kith smiled and sank back on the grass. “Oh, thank the Light. I’m so tired!”
“What happened with you, then?” Chase asked.
Liam shrugged. “Well, they exploded after you. Probably half the inquisitors they had. Or, at least, once we attacked, the other half went after us. At least sixty.”
Chase hissed. “That’s more than half.”
“Well, they were prepared, this time. They’d caught onto the trick with the chariot. Because this time, the inquisitors ignored all our summons and went straight for the chariot. The probably figured that if they were able to destroy it, we would be easy to hunt down.” Liam snorted. “They’d be right too. But Kith insisted that we take a detour and let all summoned creatures move a bit further along the edge of their encampment before attacking.”
“Ooh. So, when they tore right past all your summons to find you?”
Liam grinned. “They found us standing five hundred feet further away than they’d expected.” He rubbed at a layer of dust on his arm. “I don’t mind admitting, it was still close. They weren’t even defending themselves, just trying to tear a wheel off, killing one of the summoned beasts pulling the chariot, anything to stop us.”
Banes cracked his knuckles. “Stupid. Whatever else they might’ve done, that part was nuts. Liam there threw ‘em back and we punished them bad. Spike simply placed himself right in their way, letting themselves impale themselves along the way. At least half their number ain’t among the living no more, and I’m at Tier four now.”
That led to a general discussion about advances. Most of them had managed a Step. Chase grimly acknowledged that the massive slaughter had granted him a single Step. What the stories said about higher Tiers being hard to reach was definitely true, and if the last Step to Tier five was hard to crest, the end of Tier six would likely be even harder. Yet, even as he considered that part, he couldn’t help but marvel at the fact. He and Kith both were, indeed, closing on Tier six now. That was the realm of legends, of those who made it into tales and history books. At some point, the story of Chase might be told in nurseries throughout the lands. He’d need a moniker. Chase the Champ? Nah. Chase the Chaste? Liberty fend. His brain was so scrambled!
Thankfully, his musings were interrupted by a loud avian scream.
Kith bolted upright before starting to shout abuse at the skies. “Now? Now you arrive? An hour after you could have saved us all from a nasty ambush is when you choose to return to me? Radine, you worthless sack of feathers, come down here so I can pluck your hide!”
The bird landed. It seemed to take his invectives as praise, because it waddled and hopped closer to him, making soft mewling sounds. The large hunting bird looked rough. Its outline looked somehow fuzzy, and the normally gleaming brown and orange plumage was irregular and patchy.
Kith glowered, then subsided, and began to pet something in thin air. Clearly, he was touching the real Guardian, not the illusion. A few feet over, the image of Radine saw its feathers, disarrayed by its long travels, slowly smoothened. After a while, Kith reached in to grasp the leg and undo the tightly folded message scroll attached there. He squinted at the tiny letters, then slumped back to the ground. “Somebody! Take over! My energy is gone. If I have to read too, I may expire.”
Gavin tromped over, looking down at him with disdain. “How you people ever managed to even get near the Savior is beyond me.” He unfurled the scroll, extracted another, smaller scroll from within and squinted at the writing near the bottom. “High Elementalist Tatiana Skysworn. Please tell me this is a joke. That is a title I have heard only in legends. Who are you people?”
Chase waved weakly. “That’s… a really, really long story. Could we do with the words please?”
The older man shook his head softly and started reading. “Dear all. Whatever you are doing, it is working. The Lightborn forces have never been lighter on the ground surrounding Earth’s Ward. The latest weeks have been a relief, to the point where we have been able to build substantial surplus. If you actually come through with what the Elders state might be possible, we will be able to dedicate substantial resources to your cause. Regardless, you should know that the inner workings of the Lightborn empire are in turmoil. Currently, there are rumors flying everywhere, with little I can properly confirm. The only thing we know for certain is that the archbishop of the Church of the Circle has been replaced. The new one is less militant, more of a political creature. Let us know of any proceedings, and we will be able to act. High Elementalist Tatiana Skysworn.”
Chase grimaced. “Meaning, she didn’t even know that the Savior’s dead yet. Nothing truly useful to us, is there?”
Kith snorted. “Not really. Feels like we know more than she did. Also, we’ve met the new damn archbishop, wet blanket that he is. Next, please.”
With increasingly raised eyebrows, Gavin started reading the other, larger, scroll aloud. “We never expected anything like this. Yet, one thing is for certain. Now, that you have all five decks under your command, we will be able to restructure the power landscape of Ordei. When next you return to the bloodied grounds, the entirety of the Heart Halls will resonate with the thunderous echoes of our celebrations. Please, return to us as soon as possible, and you can decide which home you will want to erect for your future bastion.”
Gavin paused. “What bastion would that be?”
Chase shook his head sadly. “It doesn’t even matter. If we get bored over the next few days, we can tell you. We’ve made our choice, though, and are sticking with Liberty. Come what may.”
“Good. I will continue.” Gavin started reading aloud again. “You may read what the high elementalist wrote, and we have, in the meantime, sent messengers, informing her about your success. We will forward any additional news with your flier, when next she returns.”
“You hear that, you winged menace? Who’s about to go on another trip? You are!” Kith said, with a sing-song voice.
“Oh.” Gavin stopped reading. His gaze flickered to the horizon. As he started reading again, his voice cracked and nearly broke. “Whenever you choose to return, please be aware. Not only is there a Lightborn army stationed right outside the Liberty border. Additional armies, numbering in the tens of thousands have been drafted from other nobles, and will join the original army, likely within a few days of you receiving this message. Do take the necessary precautions when returning. We advise that you circle west of their forces when you return. Regards. The Furyborn council of Elders.”
Liam looked at Gavin. With a tiny voice, forlorn and lost, he said simply. “Oh.”
Any idea of sending Radine back to the Elders straight away was tabled, and Kith sent her out to scout. Even though they were all exhausted, a good number of them still bearing freshly-healed wounds along with the drain of resources that entailed, nobody was able to go to sleep. They went back and forth, rehashing their options, again and again.
Finally, several hours later, they watched as Kith, who’d been increasingly absent, staring into the far distance, rubbed his face. Without turning, he spoke up, with none of his usual emotion. “It’s true. They’re coming. In the thousands. We’re so dead.”
