Second Course, Chapter 54: Two Steps Too Far
"Your home was invaded?" Saren asked, stopping just as Gnar did at a branching section of the tunnel. The pair turned to stare at Sean, their surprise at Gel's last words evident. "Do you mean the store?"
"Of course I mean the store! And don't look at me like that, it's your people who are the ones trying to take it from us!" Gel all-but-spat, hot anger turning the smile's tone accusatory as a pair of eyes rolled up onto Sean's shoulder to glare at the former paladin. "Care to explain why that is? Because we haven't had any other guests besides you come to visit yet, and there's no way they tracked down where our disguise was from that fast."
"Where your disguise was– no, wait." Saren held up a hand, gesturing for peace. "I have told none of your location. Only the oracle knows where to find you, and he is our ally. You even slew the ones who were following me before! They could not know. Not unless–"
The owlen frowned, staring off into the distance behind them. After a moment he winced, like a child remembering that sound can travel further than you want it to.
"Unless?" Gel prompted.
"Unless they put more effort into tracking me than just sending a single squad. There are methods known to the Spire to do so remotely, though to my understanding such methods require a great deal of prior knowledge about the subject, can often give vague results, and come at a high cost in both materials as well as preparation. Costs I have never seen paid because with the Oracle on hand there was never any need to pay them."
"Seems like they're willing to pay now that this oracle of theirs has gone rogue." Sean quipped to Gel, who didn't translate the sentiment as everyone but the fennekian was clearly already thinking it. "Be nice to know what those methods actually show them, but for now how about you ask our guide here if he can lead the way back to our home so we can go defend it."
A surge of righteous satisfaction and eagerness welled up from within Sean as he said that. The idea of defending his territory resonated well with the geladin's instincts, apparently. So well in fact, that he was having trouble remembering why he wasn't rushing to do that already.
"Can you take us home?" Gel asked, turning his gaze to Gnar. "We live on—"
Gnar made a series of quick gestures with his left hand, cutting Gel off.
"Oh. Well, alright then." Gel said to Sean, sounding both surprised and more than a little pleased. "He already knows where we live and can take us there swiftly! Wait. Wait a second. How does he know where we live?!"
"How do you know where we live?!" Gel repeated, this time out loud.
More hand gestures, followed by a shrug.
"Tracking us? What? Since when?!" More gestures.
"What do you mean you knew who we were when we arrived? How?!" Two swift gestures, and this time Sean thought he was beginning to understand the language somewhat as Gnar made a shape that resembled glasses with his fingers.
"My eyes? Hah! Jokes on you, my eyes are the perfect disguise! They look exactly like the pair Sean had before I ate him. How could– Oh." The slime's voice cut off mid-sentence, and another series of gestures followed.
"Okay, fine. I suppose I could have–" A few more gestures flashed, followed by Gnar's lips turning up into an amused smirk. "I am not staying hidden all the time. There's so much to see here! It would be a waste to miss any of it. Well, apart from that one guy's shoes. I could've lived my entire life without seeing those again."
Gel shuddered and, apparently taking pity on him, Gnar stopped teasing his friend and began leading them swiftly down another passageway. As they ran, Sean couldn't help himself.
"They caught you peeking out from under our robe, didn't they?"
"Yep." Gel said, completely unashamed. "In my defense: it was one hundred percent worth it."
"How fast was it?"
"Pretty much right after we arrived. They have a lot of people watching the city and everyone in it. I guess there's not a whole lot else to do when you live in the walls but watch people."
The slime was trying to distract them both with banter, and Sean appreciated him for it. Neither of them were really in the mood for words, though. So instead of asking more questions as he normally would have done, Sean just let the conversation die there and started working on a mental battle plan as he ran after Gnar.
The first thing he tried was to bring up his mental map of Dervash, but it looked like that option was no longer available to him now that their territory was occupied. A flash of hot anger ran through him again, but Sean forced it down as he tried to focus. Unfortunately, after several attempts it looked like couldn't access any of the information he normally had on Cultivar's Curiosities right now, though the tab holding Giants' Hilltop's information was still available.
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At least we still have that. Sean thought, taking that small solace for what it was. If the paladins had somehow inexplicably gone for both, then he wouldn't be running away from Gold Spire right now.
He would be running towards it.
Sean lost himself in daydreams of revenge for a moment, before coming to an abrupt halt as Gnar stopped running, tapped what looked like an ordinary rock nearby, and then pointed up. Indentations in the stone creating a ladder of sorts led up to what looked like a solid ceiling of loose dirt. The fennekian guardsman made a long series of hand gestures, and this time Sean was sure he caught the meaning of at least one of them. "Up" was a pretty universal signal.
"Shop's up top." Gel told him immediately, the slime's desire for haste coming clear through their bond now that they were close by. "We'll come out in some lady's garden one street down from it, but she's not usually in her garden so we should be fine. Let's go!"
Sean rushed up the makeshift ladder, Gel shouting their shared gratitude back down at Gnar who had already disappeared back down the tunnel. Saren was not far behind as the pair shoved their way through the dirt 'ceiling' at the top–
–only to meet a slowly darkening sky as they emerged from another illusion amongst a raised bed of exotic-looking flowers. The geladin did his best not to disturb the rest of the garden as he clambered out, and before the heartbeat he could sense coming towards them in the nearby house made its way outdoors they were gone. Up and over the nearby wall, and dashing off to reclaim their territory.
The door to Cultivar's Curiosities was wide open, busted off its hinges. Sean charged through it, his rage almost as a twin to his eagerness to spill blood– only to be greeted by an unexpected prompt the second he crossed the store's threshold. Its coming was heralded by the sound of a hundred trumpets sounding off in victory.
Congratulations! You have reclaimed your territory from the invaders who challenged it! All those who were part of the official challenge have retreated from the premises, and now you who remain stand victorious!
Wha– Sean's surprise brought him up short, just as another prompt followed. This one bordered by rocks and accompanied by the sound of a growling beast whose rumble ended in an amused, dark, and disturbingly human laugh.
Congratulations, you have earned the title: 'Lair Guardian'! Defending one's lair is the foremost duty of any monster, and you have proven your worth by forcing more than ten interlopers to flee from your might in a single day! Capable guardians often find themselves a repeated target, but you have proven that no matter who crosses into your lands a swift reversing of course is their only possible escape!
This title increases your toughness attribute by 25% so long as you are defending against hostile invaders while within any of your owned territories.
Twenty-five percent!? Sean instantly wondered if there was a way to somehow make Gold Spire's compound their territory before the battle. It was extremely unlikely, and he knew that, but before he could turn to ask Saren about it a third prompt appeared. One with a border lined by purple wisps chasing after one another and accompanied by the sound of a steel trap springing shut, and that finally explained why there were no paladins waiting here to greet them.
Congratulations, you have earned the title: 'Devious Trapper'. Accursed are those who dare tred on lands not their own, and doubly so those who do it with hostile intent or greed in their hearts. Trappers find joy in proving that there actually is an arrow behind every rock and bush, or a curse in every stolen ware. For it is only right that the unsuspecting justify a trapper's long hours by falling into their own comeuppance.
This title increases the negative effects caused by all traps, curses, and other hidden dangers triggered within your territory.
A dry, soundless laugh escaped Sean as he finished reading that last prompt. It looked like the paladins had entered their house chock-filled with cursed wares, decided to put their grubby little paws all over everything, gotten cursed with who-knows-what, and been forced to flee because of it. That mental image was entertaining, but as he dismissed the prompt Sean finally saw the state of the store's interior.
What he saw instantly killed his mirth and filled his burning orbs with a cold, deadly rage.
Their home had been ransacked. Not just looted, but ransacked. The paladins who had broken in their door had shown the same respect to what looked like every available surface and piece of furniture. Broken glass from the shattered display cabinets covered the floor in disjointed piles while snapped wood was everywhere. Even the counter had been smashed in. Sean stepped swiftly through the debris to the stairs, his feet crunching through glass as he went.
They better not have– Fury and fear shot through him as the geladin rushed up the now-broken staircase. All of their gear had been stored in the kitchen, all of the items they had collected and seasons they had stored away were kept there. In the shop's most important room. Sean hadn't thought to bring any of it with them, seeing as they had only been leaving to run a quick errand.
He now knew the folly of that decision. Could feel it. Right down into the marrow of his very bones.
"No… No, they fucking didn't." Sean said to himself as he ascended the final few stairs in a bounding leap. "They wouldn't. There'd be no reason to–"
His pot was gone. Their packs were gone. All of their spices, all of their ingredients, even their twice-damned spoons! What kind of fiend stole someone's spoons!?
With the mechanical dread of someone who already knew the answer but refused to accept it, Sean checked every single cabinet. Every room. Wondering, no– hoping that he had simply left his magical, transforming cooking pot somewhere else. That his gift from Death itself would simply be there waiting for him, if only he checked the right place. Eventually, he ran out of places to check.
"They… They took everything." Sean's mental voice trembled with black anger, and it was only his lingering confusion that stopped him from leaping out the nearby second story window to charge the Gold Spire compound's front gates. "Why? Why would they take our packs? Our spoons? My pot?!"
It was only then that Sean realized Gel had been shouting profanity for some time now. He might have noticed earlier, but the slime appeared to be rotating through each and every one of the languages he knew so the unfamiliar words hadn't had a chance to penetrate.
"Those miserable, feckless, bland bastards! They took all our food! I'll melt them down limb by limb for this! Do you hear me, you insufferable sacks of–"
Saren appeared suddenly beside them, and it was all Sean could do in that moment not to attack him. Not because he was mad at the owlen as, honestly, he wasn't. Feathers had proven himself their ally, and as bad as this situation was it wasn't Saren's fault. He knew that. But his instincts were in full murder mode, and the former paladin had been giving off a much stronger stench of Life than usual lately. Because of that, it was hard for Sean not to see him as the enemy.
"I am sorry." The owlen said, bowing his head to them. "They must have assumed your home was where the oracle had been hiding those like me who follow him. That's why everything is either destroyed or gone. Not because they had to… but because the commander meant to send a message."
"A "message"?" Sean echoed when Gel stopped cursing long enough to translate. The geladin shook his head, the confusion he had felt vanishing as a shiver raced through him. His undead nature replacing the emotion with a crystal-clear clarity. He brushed past Saren and reached for his crimson-black battle-axe. "Oh, I'll give him a fucking "message" alright."
"I can pay for the damages–" Saren said, but whatever else the owlen had meant to say was cut off when Sean began heading down the stairs.
"Tell Feathers that the plan has changed. We're going back tonight to get our stuff back, and we're going to bust down that commander's front door just like he did to ours."
"I love this plan." Gel said immediately. "And I love the energy here, but I feel the need to point out they just took everything from us. All we have left is your axe, my wits, and–"
"And my recipes!" The omnomicon said, finally speaking up for the first time since they had left the hideout. The sudden show of support was encouraging, if ill-timed. Sean mentally thanked the cursed book but otherwise kept marching towards his destination.
"--right. His recipes… and technically our locket." Gel said, the slime clearly feeling like he had to be the rational one here and resenting every moment of it. "So what are we– I mean, what's our plan here?"
"Our plan is waiting down there." Sean answered, pointing towards the sewer entrance they had originally emerged into the shop from as he headed straight for it. "Doesn't look like they checked the sewer, so he should still be there."
"He? You mean–Oh. Ohhh!" Gel immediately began cackling with maniacal laughter. "Oh, I withdraw all my objections. I love this plan. Those bright-sacks won't know what killed them!"
"No." Sean said simply, channeling all of his inner fury into a single promise.
"No, they won't."