3.5 In Which the Dark Lord Helps

3.5 In Which the Dark Lord Helps

According to Gizmit, North Watch was a lot closer to the center of goblin society on Dount than to Gwyllthean, but we still had a bit of a walk ahead of us. Fortunately her shorter legs didnt slow us; Gizmit kept up at a constant jog without apparent effort, even though I set a pace that was brisk even by human standards. All of us knew there was no time to dally. We passed branching tunnels and several more doorways into goblin dwellings or offices, all shut down tight. Biribo reported some empty and others with goblins huddling inside, having barricaded their doors with whatever furniture they had.

I knew goblins werent actually like the little green monsters from video games, but this was still a sobering reminder. They werent waiting to spring out from around every corner, but just trying to survive. These were people, that was all, coping the way any people would if they woke up one morning to find their city ripping itself apart in a civil war and then being invaded.

I wondered how Yoshi was dealing with that reality. What he thought about it, and if hed even noticed.

Were in Kzidnak now, Gizmit said when I asked how far it would be. We dont have defensive walls like a human town, obviously, but anywhere the tunnel floor is smooth and paved and you find art on the walls, thats part of the city. This is still the outskirts, of course. Id like to avoid getting too close to Fallencourt too soon, and thats the part that you would recognize as a town. Itll depend on whats going on in these tunnels. We have to go there ultimately but we need to gather some intel first.

Indeed, even though none of it was in our vicinity yet, we could tell there was bad business going down in goblin town today. Broken items including furniture and tools lay occasionally along the tunnel floorfreshly broken stuff that didnt have the look of trash which had been here for a long time. In fact, the goblins seemed to do a fair job of tidying up apart from where violence had apparently happened recently. It was cleaner than most parts of the Gutters, anyway.

Worse, we could hear it. Raised voices, both angry and fearful, echoed from the distance, along with crashes and other indistinct noises. The way they were distorted and muffled by the acoustics made the sounds somehow more unnerving than if theyd been close enough to be dangerous.

Dont worry, boss, Ill tell ya if anybodys coming close enough that you need to know, Biribo promised after the third time I paused at a distant scream and half-drew my sword.

Sound travels a long way in these tunnels, and bounces unpredictably, Gizmit said noncommittally. Even for us its hard to tell where its coming from, or what it originally was. You get used to it.

Not that I dont enjoy charging blindly into chaos, said Aster, but where exactly are we going, and to do what? And what do we expect to find there?

Gizmit glanced back at her, then nodded once as if to herself and began talking in her usual clipped tone, her breath clearly not troubled by the pace we set.

My mission is to extract Miss Sneppitshairstylist from the Fallencourt tram terminal, where she ran off to without authorization to try to rescue the security team whore supposed to secure it against the mob.

Were rescuing Zui? I asked, then stopped walking. Hang on. Tram terminal? You have trams?

Whats a tram? Nazralind asked.

Its Look, Id have to explain a lot of background technology for it to make any sense, youll see when we get there. What I wanna know is why goblins have them! And by why I mean how.

Trams are how we get around quickly down here, Gizmit said. Theyre like carts on rails that go very fast. See, that wasnt hard to explain, Lord Seiji. As for howthats what we do. Miss Sneppit does whatever business needs doing in whatevers available and seems profitablehence our relationship with youbut originally and primarily were an engineering company. She built and owns the trams and the company is organized around running them.

Huh.

The hairstylist tried to rescue a security team in the middle of an uprising? Nazralind blinked quizzically. Isnt that a littlebackwards?

Yeah, well, thats Zui for you, Gizmit said resignedly.

Ydleth, keep up, Aster ordered.

I glanced back to see Ydleth having paused several meters behind us, staring raptly at a piece of the wall art in the last edges of Nazralinds glow (she was the only one currently on light duty, for discretions sakepeople would find out about Enjoin eventually but I wanted to keep my cards close for now).

Sorry, she said, reluctantly tearing herself away and trotting up to join us. Its just so cool!

The particular piece that had caught her eye was a great example of how the various goblins whod painted these tunnels had tried to complement rather than compete with each other, despite their clashing styles. A very pastoral landscape that looked like the khora forest of Dount viewed from high up was rendered in an impressionistic style, creating a very gentle and peaceful feeling. Someone had scrawled abstract art using bold colors and mostly jagged lines across the bottom of it and both sides, but deliberately arranged their work to frame the landscape rather than obscure it. Across the top, high enough that a goblin would have to have stood on something to paint there, had been added beautiful word art that reminded me of those illuminated manuscripts European monks used to make, the Khazid text gloriously embellished and given intricate shading that made it seem about to pop off the tunnel wall.

I decided not to tell Ydleth that the script was a poem, an ode to the poets adoration of big human butts and his plea to Virya that he would forgive her for all the suffering of life if he got to fuck one before he died. Not because I thought it would ruin the art for her; on the contrary, Ydleth would find that hilarious, and she had a very loud, very shrill laugh. That would be an awfully silly reason to bring Jadraks minions down on our heads.

It is cool, I agreed, setting off again. Hopefully when this is all settled well be on good terms with the goblins and can come admire it at will. Right now we need to focus, though. Gizmit, whats the plan?

She had given me a thoughtful look at my mention of hopes for future peace, but answered briskly as always. The geography and architecture of Fallencourt is complicatedyoull see what I mean when we get there. I want to approach it as discreetly as possible and get a view of whats happening there before we move directly to the terminal. Obviously we are not going to get through this without fighting somebody, but Id prefer to keep things as peaceful as possible.

Okay, makes sense. You know your way around down here. Biribo, help her find us the quietest, most unoccupied route to wherever she wants to go.

You got it, boss, he said, buzzing down to hover next to Gizmit. Left at the next juncture, right? Looks like the tunnels start branching a lot after that. If we take the leftmost corridor that slopes upward, well encounter the least traffic.

You, she said, giving him an appraising look, are handy.

Youre damn right, sister.

I did not expect it to be that simple, because nothing ever is, but somehow things went right for a change. As we progressed through the tunnels, the doorways and actual architecture built into the walls increased in frequency, and there were even lights in the form of luminous fungi cultivated on little ledges. Biribo reported many of the chambers we passed were occupied, but everyone was staying firmly behind their shut doors today. The noise gradually increased as we drew closer to Fallencourt; though its echoes were still too confusing for me to pinpoint any source, it was clear we were approaching the largest concentration of whatever was happening. Gizmit kept us going at a brisk yet cautious pace, frequently diverting down side corridors as Biribo gave warning of groups of goblins ahead, twice even backtracking to evade them.

We couldnt avoid them forever, but we were in unspoken agreement that the longer we put off being discovered and having to do violence, the better.

Just listen. When this goes badly, you come out there and back me up. Gizmit, try to get into the station and help Zui once that mob is distracted. Adelly, youre on door guard in case they come at this position, make good use of that staff. Naz, Ydleth, and Madyn, shoot from the doorway as best you can without getting in each others way. Prioritize keeping them out of the station; Aster and I can take care of ourselves.

Uh, Lord Seiji, youre beginning to sound alarmingly like youre planning to go out there alone, Nazralind said nervously.

You always were a smart girl.

Are you insane? Aster screeched very quietly, a feat which I respected a great deal because Im always impressed by good vocal control.

No. I grinned at her, just to see her seethe, and pushed the door open just enough to slip through. Im the fucking Dark Lord.

The second you step out there, youre gonna get bombarded, Gizmit warned.

Did you not hear me? I grabbed the handle of my dagger. I said, Im the fucking Dark Lord.

Then I drew it from its sheath, vanished from sight, and stepped out onto the plaza.

Man, being invisible is neat. I got all the way across the open space to stand at the rear fringes of the crowd without anyone so much as suspecting my presence. There were between fifteen and twenty of them; even up close I couldnt get a more accurate count because they kept teeming around, hammering and prying at the barricaded windows. The din of voices was deafening at this range, though easily sorted into three basic categories: the battering ram crew were chanting in unison to help coordinate their blows on the door, a lot of the rest were generally hollering and bellowing like hooligans, and the Blessed goblin Biribo had indicated was shouting slogans and clearly directing the group.

This one wore green, a stretch of ragged fabric which hed improvised as a cloak. He was also a lead-from-the-rear type, standing behind the rest of the goblins under his control and encouraging their efforts with the broad gestures and hoarse yelling of someone who was really enjoying his role as rabble-rouser but clearly wasnt very practiced at it.

Thats itwere almost there! Liberation! VENGEANCE! Soon well have the traitors by their ears! All who oppose the Goblin King will burn! Freedom for goblinkind! First Sneppit, then the Fflyr! Keep going, sisters and brothers! We shall have retribution!

That was it, no rhythm or plan to it at all. Poor guy didnt even know how to project his voice, and it was noticeably scratchy, no doubt from being overused all morning. Well, Lord Seiji was here to give him a crash course in crowd control.

Stepping up right behind the goblin in charge so that I loomed ominously over him, I drew a deep breath that expanded my lungs to their fullest, slammed the dagger back into its sheath, and projected powerfully from the diaphragm.

Ara, ara, ara.

Fuck it, I gotta be me.

I certainly got their attention, between the very nice acoustics of this little cul-de-sac and my own very impressive vocal instrument. Goblins scattered, the battering ram was dropped, and the leaders voice broke with an embarrassing squeak as he scurried away from me, only turning around when he could retreat no further thanks to the press of his followers.

Despite Gizmits prediction, I was not immediately pelted with projectiles, I suspected only because everybody was too astonished by my arrival. What can I say, I know how to make an entrance.

And why does goblin turn upon goblin? I boomed, spreading my arms wide in a gesture of benediction. In that station are your brothers and sistersfellow children of Virya who only disagree with the means by which you shall achieve your retribution. They know as well as you who the true enemy is. If you only knew how many allies there are, just waiting to join youon the surface of Dount and beyond, only waiting to be rallied against those who oppress us all.

I dont know who the fuck you are, but you made the mistake of your life coming down here, tallboy, declared the goblin in charge, regaining some of his poise and pointing at me.

It was a passably dramatic point; I couldve done better, but I gave the kid credit for amateur effort.

I, I declared in a ringing voice which overrode him, am the one who can deliver what the Goblin King can only promise. I can lay waste to your enemies and bring you freedom where he will only lead you to a pointless death. I am Omura Seiji, the Champion of Virya. I grinned, wolfishly. And you are going to make me prove it, arent you?

They still werent attacking me, too confused and thrown off their game to know what to do. Damn, Im good.

Bullshit, the leader scoffed.

You want to be free of the Fflyr? I retorted. To repay blood with blood? Then it starts here, by laying down your arms and not turning your strength against your fellow goblins. You want victory over your oppressors? Then kneel before the Dark Lord.

Well, you may just be a crazy guy, but youre as good a place to start as any, he scoffed, raising a hand again. It wasnt pointing this time, but held palm out. Casting posture. Fire Lance!

I indulged in a smirk while his melted away. Yeah, I felt for the guy. This target-blocking ring of Lady Grays was some real bullshit the first time you found yourself on the wrong end of it. God, I loved it.

Perhaps you didnt enunciate properly, I said. Try again. Maybe if you say it louder this time?

Fire Lance! the goblin sorcerer shouted, backing up and shoving his followers away in the process, his red eyes growing increasingly wide as his magic failed him again. FIRE LANCE!

I waited until he gave up in complete panic before speaking again, pitching my voice lower but projecting just as loudly.

So be it. Those of you who survive, remember: I tried to do this the civil way.

Showtime.

Immolate.