Book 2: Chapter 37: The Red Rage

Book 2: Chapter 37: The Red Rage

“You can’t just go to the Guard with this, Pete!” Copperpot held my arm as I tried to leave the warehouse.

“Why not? ThEY TriED ta KiLL mE!” I barely kept my voice below a shout. Every single thought that passed through my mind was wArPEd and tinged with red. I was gradually becoming more and more furious at the whole situation.

When Copperpot had warned me about hit-squads, I’d figured it would be something like my little job on Whistlemop. A shakedown and a warning, maybe a light bit of threatening and some broken kneecaps. I’d taken to walking around in groups, and had always been sure to stay to stick to main roads, just in case. I hadn’t imagined super-death-ninjas like something out of a manga.

“Because the unwritten rule of modern Corporate Combat is that you don’t get the guard involved! Right now we have an opportunity to hit them back, but if you go to the law, that all goes out the window! And it would ruin the Pot name amongst the rest of the gnomish oligarchy!” Copperpot dug his heels in.

I threw him off. He may have had much higher stats than me but it was clear that he had completely abandoned his strength score. That was probably the biggest cheat from my quests, they gave me bonuses to stats I didn’t normally use. Given enough time I might hit max in all of them, while the average person didn’t even come close to max in one.

I took a deep breath and tried to find my center. I felt like I should have been horrified, I’d just watched some people die! But all I could see was the red mist. Think calming thoughts, Pete. Think calming thoughts. Playing catch with Sammy, drinking a fresh ale, sitting under a waterfall, gutting Ambermine. I hissed, “Fine. I won’t go to tha city, then. But I’m not goin' to sit back and take this Copperpot! You do things your way, I’ll do it mine.”

I turned around and walked out, slamming the door behind me. Copperpot’s face was chalk white, and he looked afraid. Of me? Annie followed close on my heels, her eyes wide.

“Pete? You need to calm down.”

“Calm down?? Annie, someone just tried ta kill us! You were even angrier than me! Where did all tha' wrath go!?”

Annie grabbed my arm and spun me around. I almost decked her. Her voice was full of worry as she held my arms in place. “I admit I dipped into the Red a bit, but you’re falling hard. Pete, you...”

Annie looked around, clearly concerned about being overheard where we were. A valid worry since there were apparently gnomish super ninjas.

She continued with a whisper in my ears. “Dwarves can fall to something called the Red Rage. It’s what makes [Berzerker] such a popular and effective Title for us. It’ll increase your Strength and Agility, but turns you into a blithering idiot over time. Up till this point, those of us in the knew figured you were immune, but you’re clearly feeling its effects. And you have no experience playing hitball as a child to temper your Rage. You need to calm down.”

I looked down at my hands. They were shaking, and something was seeping from beneath my nails where they gripped my palms. I absently rubbed fingers, remembering the taste of Ambermine’s blood in my tea.

I growled, “well maybe I need a bit of that viciousness, Annie. It seems like I’ve been a bit too easy goin'. First Browning, now the Mine Corporation. I’m sick of gettin' messed with. Balin had tha right idea, we need to be so Godsdamn strong that nobody dares step on our shadow!”

“And Balin threw himself into the mouth of horror so that you didn’t have to!” Annie snapped back. “Do you think he would be happy? Knowing his brother is degenerating to some basic blockhead? Do you think I would be happy? That I wouldn’t rather have Balin doing carpentry at the Goat and spending time with him every evening? What do you think happens to dwarves that give in to the Red Rage? Do you think anyone at the brewery would enjoy a dark and angry version of Peter Roughtuff? We may scoff at your awful puns, but that’s who you are! A jokester and a wiseguy, a hard worker and steadfast friend who can spend hours going on and on about alcohol. Don’t you dare lose that!” She stared at me with hurt, and fear, and anger.

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. My mind swam with memory, and it was sharp as broken glass

—

Sammy laughed as I juggled the ball, launching it from foot to knee and then headbutting it into the air.

“Daddy! You’re doing it wrong!”

“What? I’m passing! Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be doing?”

“You’re supposed to pass it to me!”

“What!? But I’m so much closer! Why would I pass it all the way over there, silly goose?”

“Come oooooon, pass it!!”

My little girl was five years old, and we were practicing long distance passes at the park. She was wearing her brand new soccer outfit, proudly displaying her mother’s painstakingly stitched name and number for all the world to see. It was unspeakably cute, and horrifically expensive - seriously, HOW MUCH for a child’s uniform?

“You want a pass? I don’t think you can handle the heat!” I chest trapped the ball and then booted it.

It flew right over her head, her outstretched hands barely brushing it.

“Hand ball!” I shouted.

“NO FAIR!” Sammy ran as I laughed. The ball continued to roll on the dead summer grass. The past few years had been much hotter than usual, and the local parks were pretty desiccated. The ball kept hopping and skipping, traveling further than I was used to - directly towards the road.

“Sammy, slow down! Wait for the ball to stop!” I called.

Sammy didn’t stop, she was focused on catching the ball. Each step carried her closer to the busy road. Our PAC had been complaining to the city about putting in a fence for years.

My body pumped me full of adrenaline and I moved faster than I ever had in my life. The entire time, I screamed, “Sammy! STOP!!!”

Zirce and Emma lifted me into the air over their heads and began to parade me around the room while Richter and Johnsson hooted and hollered. Moony and Markus were nowhere to be seen, but they were probably in bed at this time of the night. Same with John and Jeremiah.

I tapped Balin on the back of the head as we passed by. “Brother! It’s good to see you!”

Balin came up for air and gave me an enormous smile. “Pete! I got some more stuff for ya!”

“Later!” I shouted as I was carried away.

“Balin! What are you doing here? I thought you were in the dungeon at least another day!?” Annie managed after she calmed down enough to realize she wasn’t being attacked.

“Aqua used a commstone ta let me know tha Pots said yes. I had ta be here.” Balin dipped Annie down and kissed her fiercely. She kissed him back, then reached up to pull on his moustache. Zirce and Emma put me down and the party atmosphere rapidly turned awkward as the two of them started desperately smooching in earnest. I understood, and reached for the only woman in the room that could handle my need for skinship right now.

*MEEEEHHH!!!* [Translated from Prima Donna Goat] “What is this!? Unhand me, varlet!”

“Hush Penelope, I need this.” I whispered as I desperately hugged the goat close. She pulled away from my too-fierce grasp at first, then calmed as I shivered against her white floof.

*Bleh?* [Translated from Prima Donna Goat] “Are you well, my dwarfservant?”

“Whooo! Go Pete and Penelope!” Aqua shouted, pumping her fist, then her face turned stricken. “Wait, why are you two so tense?”

Aqua’s new [Hypnotist] Title included the ability to sense emotions. Between spotting lies and telling how you were feeling, she was eventually going to be someone’s last boss of ex-girlfriends.

I was torn between ruining the festive atmosphere or letting everyone have a good time. The possibility of another attack by Ambermine was remote, but it would be a good idea to batten down the hatches until Copperpot gave us the all clear.

“Listen everyone. This is important.” I waited until I had everyone’s full attention. Annie had gone from kissing Balin to just holding him tight, and he was beginning to look worried. “We were just attacked by [Assassins] at Copperpot’s warehouse.”

Zirce and Emma screeched, then everyone began asking questions at once. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, so I held up my hand to ask for calm. “We’re fine. Copperpot drove them off.”

“I hope he did more than THAT!” Johnsson said, with a surprising amount of viciousness. Or... now that I knew a bit more about my own penchant for violence, perhaps it was actually an appropriate amount of viciousness.

Annie looked up from Balin’s beard long enough to say. “He killed three of them, and drove the fourth off.”

The mob gave a raucous cheer.

Kirk went to close the front door. “I’ll batten the hatches.”

Zirce and Emma headed for the back of the pub. “We’ll check the alley and lock up the back doors.”

“I’ve got knives enough for everyone in the kitchen.” Bran headed to the pub with Lemontwist on his tail.

Johnsson went for the brewroom. “I’ll do a sweep, Richter you come with me.”

Richter followed after, though he stopped long enough to grab our spare axe from under the counter.

Balin put Annie down and activated his [Golden Armour] “Ya don’t need to worry. You’ve got Balin o’ Goldenlight here ta keep you safe!”

Annie and I spent the rest of the evening hiding behind the front counter, munching on cake and shooing Penelope away. Everyone gave us space, except for Balin, who occasionally checked in to make sure we were still okay.

We waited there until morning. There was no sunrise to break the night with the revealing light of dawn. The dark purple sky remained the same as always, an alien landscape that I clealry still didn’t fully understand.

*Bing*

Condition Lost: [Poisoned: Minor]!

You have lost the [Poisoned: Minor] Condition!

*Bing*

Stat Increased: [Vitality]!

Your Vitality has increased by 1! Your new Vitality is 20!

Huh, Copperpot was right. The poison hadn’t affected me at all. Heck, I'd completely forgotten about it. Oooh, could I eat raw cookie dough guilt free now?