I Do What I Must

Jabez observed the building from a distance. It was what he learned was called a “Slave House”, which was more like two buildings in close proximity. It belonged to a representative of the Shevak Tong – the leading slave traders in the Kingdom of Ramtha. If he was going to do any good at all, he had to strike at the heart. The city’s heart.

The night prior, he tracked down a certain chef to his home in the city and... Disposed of him. It wasn’t for revenge, no. It was to save a life. One life... For another. Back when he slew Ronnie and Bobbie, it had pained him. He saw them as callous at best and complicit in the suffering of others at worst. They had looked down on goblins so much they even saw their disposal as beneath them. It wasn’t that they pitied the creatures, it’s just their disgust was that pronounced. He had struck them down to prevent further harm, and in the end, it proved the right choice. He had saved a family, and they in turn saved him. But it wasn’t enough. He knew that if he was going to save more people, others had to go. He hardened his heart and pointed his blade at those he deemed evil. Was killing wrong? Of course it was. He knew that all too well. But this was not a kind place, so he... Had to be worse.

“Come on, I know a way out of the city,” Jabez whispered to the elf girl. “Don’t be afraid. I mean you no harm.”

“Why?” she whispered in a pained voice. “Why do this?”

“Because I have to. I must.”

“But... What about master?”

Jabez grabbed the elf by the hand. “He’s not your master. He never was. Don’t forget the pain he caused you. The humiliation. You don’t belong to anyone.”

“I... Don’t?” The elf looked confused. Her eyes wandered.

“I will show you another way. Come with me.”

And they were off. So late in the night, Jabez had less to worry about. Ozahl would be asleep, as would most of the city. It was only the guards that concerned him. That’s why he had stocked up so much on scrolls. But even with their help, he couldn’t relax. He wouldn’t know if they had ways around the stealth magic until it was too late.

“Where are you taking me?” the elf whispered while the pair hid in an alleyway.

“A better place... Far from here,” whispered Jabez.

“But where? Where?”

“Be silent. Someone’s coming.”

The elf held her tongue the rest of the trip. Jabez cursed his harsh wording. It sounded like an order, and she obeyed so readily.

Dammit... How much of her will remains?

In the end, Jabez was successful in escorting the elf girl out of Felstat, and in time, he met up with Kela and the other goblins. At first the elf was frightened, and she hid behind Jabez, but after he translated for them, she calmed down.

“These ones speak?” the elf asked.

“They do. I don’t know what you’ve been taught, but they’re my friends. They’ll keep you safe.”

“This way,” Kela gestured. “Too dangerous, too dark.”

Jabez helped the elf girl along and everyone entered the new hiding spot Kela had found. It was another cave entrance, a hole in the ground they could close shut. Down below, Kela worked her magic on the collar around the elf girl’s neck.

“Must be careful. Have seen these before. Causes much pain when not handled well. But Kela knows better.”

When the goblin matriarch was done, the collar and shackles split open, falling to the ground. They made a harsh clatter, and Gatu covered his ears at the sound.

“Ak! So loud!!”

“There there, Gatu. It’s only metal. Metal does not harm by itself,” she ran a hand over his head.

“Now let’s take a look at you,” said Jabez, crouching down near the elf. His blood ran cold when he looked at her neck. It was so discolored, so bruised. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to cry, scream, or punch something. It left him with a rotten sensation in his gut.

The elf put a hand to her throat, feeling the tender skin. Her eyes looked so empty up until that moment, but when she touched her throat, when it looked like she could finally breathe properly again, tears welled up in her eyes.

“I’m... Free?”

“You are. Here, eat,” Jabez handed her an apple. “What’s your name?”

“My name?” The elf took hold of the apple, staring blankly at it while tears ran down her cheeks. “I... Don’t remember. I was young when they first collared me. Small. All these years, I’ve only ever been called ‘slave.’”

“Then let us give you a name. It will be a gift,” said Kela. “How does Akari sound?”

Jabez continued translating, and the elf said, “Akari? What does it mean?”

“In the goblin tongue, ‘Ak’ means pain, and ‘Ari’ is like rising wind. Thus, you shall rise above your pain.” Jabez translated for Kela.

“Ak... Ari... It’s beautiful. I will tell the flowers of this gift.”

Jabez raised an eyebrow at that but decided not to pry. He suspected it was an elven saying.

After that night, Jabez realized he had to move fast. It was likely impossible to free every slave in Felstat, but if he hit the local slave house, at least he could disrupt the trade. It was just a matter of dealing with the Shevak Tong member, Ramvic. Sometimes called Ramvic the Keen, he was a man with a sharp eye and a good nose for trouble. He always moved with a contingent of guards, and no doubt that would increase after Jabez struck down a slave owner in the city – especially one held in such high regard. But he had no intention of backing out. If he waited too long, Ozahl would finally see through his tricks, and that would be the end of it. So either he moved that night or not at all.

As night descended on the city, Jabez crept through the shadows. Guard patrols had doubled in the streets, and there were more of Ramvic’s own guards stationed around the slave house.

This isn’t going to be easy...

In that moment, Jabez remembered something his father had taught him back in the day. When he came home from school with a black eye, his father John took him by the shoulders, asking him what happened. When he told him it was a group of bullies who jumped him during lunch, his father looked him in the eye.

“Son, it’s time I taught you how to fight.”

“Fight? But mama always said to be kind to others...”

“That may be so, but not everyone in this world is kind. When words fail you, you can always rely on your fists to defend yourself.”

“My fists?”

“Yeah! And not just that. You can kick, you can bite, you can throw a rock. Hit ‘em hard, hit ‘em fast, and don’t hold back. Every chance you give them is a chance they’ll take. Never give your opponent a chance to hurt you.”

Hit ‘em hard, hit ‘em fast, eh? Jabez whispered the incantation of the Invisibility scroll and drew his sword, descending on the slave house. Let’s see how well that holds up.

Jabez closed the distance on the first house guard, slicing him across the throat. As he fell to the ground and the next one readied his weapon, he dashed to the side, aiming for the armpit. Even in these lands, armor wasn’t perfect, and there were always weak points to exploit.

Two down. Time for cleanup.

Jabez pulled out a magic bag he purchased for a fair sum. By touching an object, he could whisper the command word “Pocket” in Arcanian, and the object would slip inside the bag. Whether the enchanter realized it or not, this worked just fine on dead bodies. Once the bodies were gone, a cheap magic scroll for cleaning helped with the blood stains.

Now for the rest...

Jabez kept on the move, moving swiftly, moving silently. After slaying and disappearing the guards in his way, he climbed up the building. Once he reached the window to Ramvic’s room, he drew another tool from his kit – a magically silenced glass cutter. He could have never bought such a thing in a normal enchanter’s shop, but he managed to secure the tool and a means of enchantment in a back alley deal. He had saved up enough coin from his work to keep the right people silent. After he sliced through the window, he set aside the pane of glass, put on an alchemical face mask, and slipped inside. As soon as he did, though, a flash of glitter blew away his invisibility.

“Ah ha!” said Ramvic, standing ready at the doorway. “So you’ve come at last. I knew a rat the moment I laid eyes on you. Take him down!” Ramvic struck a whip against the ground.

“Yes sir!” shouted the guards in the room.

“Good thing I’ve come prepared,” Jabez snapped three blight twigs, tossing them at the guards. Bitter, choking smoke quickly filled the room. The men recoiled in coughing fits, swatting uselessly at the black smoke with their weapons. That was the only opening Jabez needed.

Hit ‘em hard, hit ‘em fast.

Ramvic was already on the run by the time the last guard fell. Before he could escape the building, Jabez cut him off, leaping from the upstairs walkway and landing in front of the exit. Ramvic stepped back, gritting his teeth.

“You damn blackguard! Don’t you know who I am?! If I die, the Shevak Tong will hunt you down to the ends of the world!” Jabez didn’t waste his breath in reply. He dashed forward and rammed his sword right through Ramvic’s gut, pinning him against the wall. As blood spit from his mouth, Ramvic dropped his whip and tried reaching for Jabez’s throat. “You... You... You...!”

Jabez twisted his sword before prying it free. He gave the man a few extra stabs for good measure, and when he was done, he crouched down, yanking a ring of keys off Ramvic’s belt before opening his magic bag.

“Pocket.”

Despite Jabez’s best efforts, the commotion (not to mention black smoke) had caught the attention of the city guard. This gave him less time than he thought, but there was still a chance. He made his way to the storage house attached to the main building and opened it. When he did, his heart sank.

There... There are so many!!

The storage house, which was little more than a glorified barn, was where Ramvic kept his stock. Thirty, forty... Jabez wasn’t sure what the count was. All he knew was that they were jam packed in the building, all chained to the walls with just enough slack to sit or rest on their knees, if barely.

When Jabez opened the door, the slaves were quick to look away. Once they opened their eyes, a small clatter of whispers spread through the crowd. Even with Jabez’s ability to translate other languages, so many different tongues at once befuddled him. He cut the clatter short and stepped into the crowd.

“Everyone, I’m here to save you! Come with me, and I’ll take you far from this place!” Jabez held up the ring of keys.

“What?”

“What does he mean?”

“Who is this man?”

Jabez heard the slaves whisper amongst themselves, but never directly to him. When it seemed words failed, he let his actions speak for themselves. One by one, he tried freeing the slaves. After using the wrong key again and again, he finally found the key fit for the storage house shackles. But even with the one key working for them all, he wasn’t sure if he could clear the room before the guards arrived.

“There’s no time to explain. Get in the wagon outside. We’re leaving the city,” said Jabez.

“Where are you going?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Are you our new master?”

“No! I’m trying to save you all!”

“Save?” said one. “Why... Save? What do you mean?”

Jabez didn’t know what to say. Of course they’d be confused. Of course they wanted to know what was happening, but it seemed as if the mere concept of being saved was alien to them. It wasn’t until one of them spoke up that things took a turn for the better.

“You,” said a young girl’s voice. “Over here!”

Jabez looked around, only to realize the girl was much shorter than the others. She was the same size as a goblin, but with a human-like face, round ears, tanned skin, violet eyes, and short ash blonde hair.

“What is it?” Jabez asked.

“I can... I can help. Free me, and I shall free others.”

“You can do that?” He asked. The girl nodded.

“Let me borrow that thing on your belt.” Jabez grabbed it. It was a simple lock pick. He bought it alongside the glass cutter because he wasn’t sure if he could even find the keys he’d need. It turned out to be a good purchase anyway.

“Thank you,” said Jabez.

Once the girl was free, she rubbed her sore wrists momentarily before moving to pick the locks on nearby shackles. At this point, Jabez moved to open the front of the storage house and funnel slaves into the wagon. It was the same wagon Ramvic and his men must have used to transport slaves in the past. While he loathed to put them all back in a caged wagon, for the moment, it was his best option.

“No, I can’t go,” a slave girl complained. Jabez moved back in, finding the girl wrestling her shackles away from the violet-eyed girl.

“What’s going on? We have to go now!” said Jabez.

“I don’t want to go... The monsters... I’m safe here. Warm here. I... I can’t!!”

The girl was panicking. No doubt she had been conditioned to fear the outside world. But whatever her reasons, Jabez refused to leave anyone behind.

“I’m sorry...” whispered Jabez, striking her in the back of the head. The violet-eyed girl gasped.

“Is she...?”

“Just unconscious. She’ll be fine.”

Once the last slaves were loaded into the wagon, Jabez closed the cage. By the time he was ready to leave, the guards were already on the scene. He flicked the reins of the gurok attached to the wagon regardless, and after the horned equine reared back on its hooves, it charged through the contingent, careening down the streets of Felstat. Countless houses, businesses, and storage huts blurred past him like trees in the night. Memories of his arrival in Elonia echoed in Jabez’s mind as the wagon ran through the city. Nearby, he could see guards on guroks circling around to block his escape while others were coming up from behind.

Come at me if you wish, thought Jabez. I’ll cut down anyone who tries to stop me!

One hand on the reins, and another on his sword, Jabez swiped at any guard who got too close, knocking them from their steeds. Yet more kept coming, and the thundering of hooves rang through the night.

Even with Jabez’s best efforts, his wounds grew by each passing second. Some guards came at him with blades, but others fired crossbows, uncaring of the collateral if they missed and hit a slave instead. He did what he could, but there were far, far more guards than he could have ever anticipated. But the gate was coming into view. The gate out of the city... Shut. He knew they’d try to seal the exit. It only made sense. But he had one last trick up his sleeve. He bet it all on his aim.

Scrolls, when fully activated, would release their magic wherever the scroll was. This was usually within the hands of the wielder. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t activate elsewhere. For example, if you were to tie a scroll like a message to an arrow, whisper its command word, and fire, by the time the arrow met its mark, the scroll would come alive and release the magic on the target.

It all comes down to this...

Crossbow in hand, Jabez clenched his teeth around the reins and steadied his aim. The wind was low, the road smooth, and the target at a slight decline. As the paper of the scroll jostled in the light breeze, Jabez muttered the command word and pulled the trigger. What did the Arcanian word he spoke mean?

Fireball.