Revenge!

Lynessa sobbed. It was all she’d been doing for hours, ever since Spineripper and his army had withdrawn from the village. Her hands were still bloody from where she’d held Arthur as he died.

I had no idea what to do, what to say. The priest had ushered us inside the temple soon after and had begun tending to our wounds. I escaped with nothing more than a few bruises and a cut above my right eye. Imalor and Ser Erik were not as well off.

The dwarf was in better shape than the knight. He lay on an open patch of floor in the center of the church. Blood matted his beard. Bandages had been tied around his upper legs and his ribs. While he had taken more hits from the demons’ spears, none of them were in vital areas. Spineripper’s mace hadn’t treated him too badly either; he’d been swatted away as if he was an afterthought.

Imalor looked up at me as I approached. He gave me a small nod. Not friendly, but not accusatory either. It was the look of shared pain, even though he was far more gravely injured than I.

“You look well.” I said.

“Better than you.” He responded. He coughed.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “About this. About failing.”

“Don’t be.” He responded, “We’ve never won a battle against Spineripper before. We should have known better than to think we’d start now.”

I nodded. Memories flashed through my mind. Spineripper knocking Ser Erik and Imalor aside like they were nothing, him raising Arthur into the air, blood running down his hands. I shook my head. The images remained.

“Do one thing for me,” Imalor said, “When you see him next, make him bleed.”

“I will.” I promised, though I didn’t know how I could do something like that. The demon general seemed invincible. A small smile broke out on his face.

I checked on Ser Erik next. He was unconscious, as he had been since the blow from the demon general. The priest had laid him atop the stone altar at the head of the church and stripped away his armor. He’d had to use most of his healing magics just to stabilize the knight, pulling out the spearhead in his gut and closing him back up. Even so, the blow from Spineripper’s mace had done internal damage that the priest could not repair with magic alone.

“Will he live?” I asked the priest. The priest looked down at the knight. He nodded his thin, gray head.

“Yes, he will. It will take many weeks for him to recover, however.” He sighed. The priest was an old man, perhaps sixty, but the day had aged him beyond his years. The wrinkles in his face seemed deeper, his small eyes dark and sorrowful.

“Thank you for your help, mister…” I paused, suddenly realizing I’d never learned the priest’s name. It never seemed important, I’d thought I would be leaving soon and that there would be no point in learning the names of the local townsfolk. These recent days had been proving me wrong more and more.

“Alton.” He said, “The townsfolk call me Father Alton.”

“Thank you, Father Alton.” I said, “I am in your debt.”

“Think nothing of it. My role demands that I look after the ill and infirm, whoever they happen to be.” He bowed his head, “You should speak to your friend, she seems especially distraught.”

I looked over at Lynessa. She was huddled in the corner, her knees pressed up against her chest. I sat down next to her.

“Hey.” I said. I couldn’t think of anything better to say. Lynessa mumbled a greeting under her breath. “How are you doing?”

Stupid question. She clearly wasn’t doing well. She just saw Arthur get spineripped in front of her.

“Fine.” She managed to squeak out.

“No, you’re not.” I said, “You need to get some rest. Clean yourself up and try to sleep.”

She nodded. She had a vacant expression on her face. I helped her clean the worst of the blood off her clothing and led her to a cot in the back of the church.

“Will you stay here with me?” She asked.

“Tomorrow.” I promised her. “I need to do something first.”

“Please come back.” She said.

“I will.” I responded, “You can count on that. I just need to find Atlas.” And strangle him for hanging us out to dry, I thought, though I didn’t say that out loud.

Father Alton stopped me as I made to leave the church.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

“To find my tiger.” I responded, “And to find some new companions. Warriors if possible. We’ll need someone to defend this town while the Heroes are out of commission.”

“Start in Alvensglen, it’s a village around ten miles to the north. Adventurers gather there between jobs.” He advised. He handed me Ser Erik’s sword. “You should take this, too. In case you run into trouble.”

I accepted the scabbard and tied it around my waist. The weight felt weird hanging there. I shifted it uncomfortably.

“How is it that you’re so calm?” I asked.

Father Alton sighed. “A man can be many things before he dons the title of priest. A farmhand, a healer, or even an honourless killer, all is left behind when he takes the vows. All is forgiven in the light of the Golden Sun.”

“Do you hate me?” I asked, “For tearing down your church? Killing the Divine Speaker?”

Father Alton fixed me with a grim smile, “I’ve lived too many years consumed by hate. It wears heavily upon the soul. Now go. Find your friend and whatever help you can. Adventurers, mercenaries, it makes no difference. Hawthom will be back with the dragon’s treasure any day now, we can afford to pay any price.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Father.”

I did one final sweep of the town and its surrounding hills before heading out on the road north. Atlas was waiting for me at the edge of town.

“The priest told me where to find you.” He said.

“You managed to ask him?”

“No. He knew you were looking for me.” He glared at me, “You didn’t die. That’s good I suppose.”

“I thought you hated me.” I responded.

“I still do.” He said, “But you haven’t gotten me killed yet.”

Miles passed in silence. When we arrived in Alvensglen, it was already late afternoon. The sun burned orange in the angry red sky.

“Where’s your truck?” Atlas asked, “We should have driven.”

“Spineripper stole it.” I said.

“Ah.” Atlas responded. He asked no further questions.

We approached the town’s sole tavern, a dingy looking place with a crooked wooden sign that read ‘The Tall Dwarf’. A more optimistic individual might say that it had personality. I thought it looked like a dump.

We sauntered in. Nobody seemed to pay us much mind. We were just another pair of strange individuals in an establishment teeming with them. I walked over to a table surrounded by a band of a dozen or so tough-looking mercenaries. Each one wore leather armor and striking blue-green cloaks.

“Hey,” I said, “You lot for hire?”

“Suppose we are.” One said. He was a scruffy looking human with crooked teeth and an eyepatch, “If the pay’s good enough.”

“Your weight in gold.” I said, “After the contract is complete.”

The man with the eyepatch chuckled. “Our weight in gold.” He mocked. His cronies laughed. “You don’t look so rich. How do we know you’re being honest about the reward?”

I pulled Ser Erik’s sword free from its sheath and set it on the table. The mercenaries looked at it in shock.

“That’s gotta be enchanted!” Said one.

“Look at the markings on the hilt!” Said another, “It’s elven script!”

The man with the eyepatch looked me up and down. Suspicion was plain on his face.

“How did you come by a weapon like that?” He asked.

“It’s from a dragon’s hoard.” I said, “And there’s plenty more where that came from if you accept my contract.”

“Well now you have me interested.” The eyepatch mercenary said, “What’s the job?”

“A simple break and enter.” I replied, “There’s a demon called Spineripper. He stole something from me, and you guys are going to help me retrieve it.”

The mercenary’s one remaining eye widened, “Spineripper? You don’t mean the Spineripper, do you?”

I sighed, “Yes. The Spineripper. The one who rips spines.”

“Oh no.” He said, “That’s a big no, we’re not going to mess with that guy. No way.” His companions all shook their heads.

For some reason, that was what finally broke me. Everything that had happened in the past few days had been weighing down on me, like the weight of the sky bearing down on Atlas’ back. The actual Atlas, not the tiger. I’d been beaten and cut and insulted, dragged away from my home to another world and forced into the role of a hero. I’d been subjected to attacks from demons and enraged cultists who’d hated me without reason. Hell, I’d even see one of my only friends get spineripped right before my eyes, and worst of all, someone had stolen my truck!

“You cowards.” I said. My voice came out surprisingly calm, given the rage that was coursing through my veins. I grabbed the eyepatch mercenary by the back of the neck. “Isn’t that your job? Isn’t fighting the only thing you’re good at? What the hell are you good for if you can’t do that one simple thing? Don’t you want to kill demons?” I slammed his head into the table with a strength I didn’t know I had.

“I mean,” I shouted, turning to the other patrons of the tavern, “How goddamn hard is it to find one decent mercenary in this hive of degeneracy? Don’t any of you people want to kill things for money?

“I’m on a quest for revenge! Revenge! I will not stop until that insatiable thirst for vengeance is quenched, even if it means going through each and every one of you until I find somebody with enough courage left in their guts to go fight this demonic scourge that has kept your land in an age of turmoil since who-knows-when! Aren’t any of you sick of your villages being burned to ash while you sit by and watch? Don’t you hunger for revenge?

“Get this: I’m going to pay you to do it too. You are getting paid to exact your vengeance upon those who have wronged you. That’s like getting paid twice! Are you seriously going to turn down getting paid twice? What are you, idiots? Are you just going to sit there when the demons come, letting your homes burn down around you?

“Fight for me. Fight for money. Fight for Revenge!”

The bar fell silent. People stared at me like I had lost my mind. I couldn’t blame them, I was starting to feel like I was losing my grip on reality.

One man stood up and raised his glass.

“Revenge!” He said. Others took up the chant, “Revenge! Revenge! Revenge!”

I cackled like a madman. Atlas gave me a concerned look.

“Let’s go steal my truck back!” I screamed.