half.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It’s not just you. It’s all of us. Anyway, that’s not the point. I’ve given up on the Path of the Immortal Hero. That’s a young man’s dream. I just want to get back to what I’m good at, basic stuff, level up every few years. Maybe go out and pick up a few skills along the way. I’ve always wanted to get into Animal Empathy.”
“You?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rostejn says.
We have a warriors’ embrace.
“If you’re ever in the area,” he says, “Jenny makes a mean boar pie.”
“Sounds good,” I say, sure that I’ll never see him again.
Krugnor finds me as I’m walking back to camp and pulls me aside.
“There is something we should talk about,” he says. “Man-to-man.”
Here it comes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Go for it.”
“Go for it?” he says. He looks surprised that it was so easy.
“Yeah, be my guest.”
Krugnor lunges forward and I am expecting him to knock me to the ground in some kind of display of alpha-male dominance, but instead he grabs the back of my head and shoves his tongue into my mouth. Way, way into my mouth.
It takes all of my strength to push him off me.
“What the hell was that, Krugnor?”
“You said go for it.”
“That’s what you thought I meant?”
“Wait, what did you mean?”
“I thought you were taking control of the group?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Um, I dunno, because look at you? You’re this super-buff warrior-mystic who crushes evil and likes to aggressively shove your tongue down all of our souls? Because everyone thinks you are Frëd’s gift to us?”
I hear some murmuring and that’s when Krugnor and I both look over and see the whole group watching.
Trin’s mouth is wide open. Rostejn looks actually sort of hurt, like if Krugnor was going to have a thing for one of the guys, it should have been him. Fjoork appears to be rapidly and violently recalibrating his view of everythingthat has happened for the last several weeks. Nobody speaks.
“Don’t mind us,” Byr finally says.
Krugnor turns back to me. “This is your group,” he says. “Always has been.”
“Then what the hell was with all of that flexing and showboating and stuff?”
“I was trying to impress you,” he says. I look over at the group, and I can see it in all of their eyes. They’re like, really? Trying to impress
him
? I know I’ve let them down, but it’s not too late. If this new guy, this super-strong, super-charming new guy is willing to follow me, maybe they can find it in themselves to remember why they followed me in the first place. Maybe I can find it in myself to remember. Just maybe.
Or not.
It’s the day of the final battle, Battle 256.
The first wave is lichs, and immediately we’re in trouble.
Then the rocs start in from the sky. Byr is praying her ass off, but Frëd seems to be doing whatever gods do when they decide to ignore us down here, because about ten minutes into the fight I hear those dreaded words.
Byr absorbs major damage.
I do my Power Move, but it’s a drop in the bucket. We’re in a sea of enemy hit points here. A fresh wave of monsters comes over the top of the hill.
Trin absorbs major damage.
Rostejn absorbs major damage.
Fjoork absorbs major damage.
This couldn’t get any worse.
Then it gets worse.
Krugnor absorbs major damage.
It isn’t long before we are all exhausted, overwhelmed by the power and the sheer number of the enemy.
Then:
Hero absorbs major damage.
It can’t be.
I am drifting off to The Place Where You Go Between Lives. I go through heaven, through hell, through an interdimensional nether region.
In the midst of the carnage, my soul lifts out of my corpse and toward a great expanse of light, the eternal horizon, the edge of the world, that final screen, how beautiful and peaceful it looks.
I have failed in my quest, and as surprised as I am that the story is ending this way, what is really unexpected is how okay I am with it,
“That’s not fair.”
“It’s not just you. It’s all of us. Anyway, that’s not the point. I’ve given up on the Path of the Immortal Hero. That’s a young man’s dream. I just want to get back to what I’m good at, basic stuff, level up every few years. Maybe go out and pick up a few skills along the way. I’ve always wanted to get into Animal Empathy.”
“You?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rostejn says.
We have a warriors’ embrace.
“If you’re ever in the area,” he says, “Jenny makes a mean boar pie.”
“Sounds good,” I say, sure that I’ll never see him again.
Krugnor finds me as I’m walking back to camp and pulls me aside.
“There is something we should talk about,” he says. “Man-to-man.”
Here it comes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Go for it.”
“Go for it?” he says. He looks surprised that it was so easy.
“Yeah, be my guest.”
Krugnor lunges forward and I am expecting him to knock me to the ground in some kind of display of alpha-male dominance, but instead he grabs the back of my head and shoves his tongue into my mouth. Way, way into my mouth.
It takes all of my strength to push him off me.
“What the hell was that, Krugnor?”
“You said go for it.”
“That’s what you thought I meant?”
“Wait, what did you mean?”
“I thought you were taking control of the group?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Um, I dunno, because look at you? You’re this super-buff warrior-mystic who crushes evil and likes to aggressively shove your tongue down all of our souls? Because everyone thinks you are Frëd’s gift to us?”
I hear some murmuring and that’s when Krugnor and I both look over and see the whole group watching.
Trin’s mouth is wide open. Rostejn looks actually sort of hurt, like if Krugnor was going to have a thing for one of the guys, it should have been him. Fjoork appears to be rapidly and violently recalibrating his view of everythingthat has happened for the last several weeks. Nobody speaks.
“Don’t mind us,” Byr finally says.
Krugnor turns back to me. “This is your group,” he says. “Always has been.”
“Then what the hell was with all of that flexing and showboating and stuff?”
“I was trying to impress you,” he says. I look over at the group, and I can see it in all of their eyes. They’re like, really? Trying to impress
him
? I know I’ve let them down, but it’s not too late. If this new guy, this super-strong, super-charming new guy is willing to follow me, maybe they can find it in themselves to remember why they followed me in the first place. Maybe I can find it in myself to remember. Just maybe.
Or not.
It’s the day of the final battle, Battle 256.
The first wave is lichs, and immediately we’re in trouble.
Then the rocs start in from the sky. Byr is praying her ass off, but Frëd seems to be doing whatever gods do when they decide to ignore us down here, because about ten minutes into the fight I hear those dreaded words.
Byr absorbs major damage.
I do my Power Move, but it’s a drop in the bucket. We’re in a sea of enemy hit points here. A fresh wave of monsters comes over the top of the hill.
Trin absorbs major damage.
Rostejn absorbs major damage.
Fjoork absorbs major damage.
This couldn’t get any worse.
Then it gets worse.
Krugnor absorbs major damage.
It isn’t long before we are all exhausted, overwhelmed by the power and the sheer number of the enemy.
Then:
Hero absorbs major damage.
It can’t be.
I am drifting off to The Place Where You Go Between Lives. I go through heaven, through hell, through an interdimensional nether region.
In the midst of the carnage, my soul lifts out of my corpse and toward a great expanse of light, the eternal horizon, the edge of the world, that final screen, how beautiful and peaceful it looks.
I have failed in my quest, and as surprised as I am that the story is ending this way, what is really unexpected is how okay I am with it,
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