Chapter 525: Ready for anything. Again.

Mason and Blake had once gone with their adopted parents to Japan. Well, at least the airport. A subway station, then a hotel.

They were supposed to stay a week but their father had ended up having to come back in a day. Which meant they’d been in the air flying longer than they’d been in the country. It was how most Nimitz family holidays went.

Blake and Mason had been seven or eight years old at the time, and they hadn’t known but it was right after some tsunami and a nuclear power plant that almost exploded. Tourism in the country, particularly where they’d happened to be, hadn’t been doing amazing.

White faces had been non-existent. Mason didn’t remember the city or anything else, but he remembered the stares, the attention. That was how it felt in goblin city.

He and his players moved in formation down the surprisingly well-built, brick street, scattering goblins like a human battering ram. The creatures shrieked and fled to both sides, then stared from every building and alley.

They looked like goblin ‘civilians’—richer and better fed than the tribesmen, often in clothes you might expect on medieval peasants in some old movie. They were also even

more

human-like—taller, and standing basically upright, without that perpetually ‘hunched’ kind of goblin posture.

The players walked through lots of chittering and shrieking that eventually became an eerie silence. As the word and understanding spread, the goblins parted quietly and watched with silent awe.

Mason wondered if any had ever seen a human before. He doubted it. Now there were twelve of them, armed and strolling straight down main street. It was at least a

little

funny.

“What the hell are you smilin’ about? This is creepy,” Becky whispered beside him, clutching his arm. “Or is that some kinda weird, wolfy mouth face snarl?”

“You have to enjoy the little things,” he said, patting her hand. The scent of mass fear in the air was intoxicating. Mason didn’t think it was great for his psyche to enjoy it, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He also saw more than that on goblin faces…he saw…anticipation? Was it hope?

A few guards finally stepped in the players’ path. They wore leather armor and held something like halberds in trembling hands. They had stupid helmets that must have blocked some vision and wouldn’t stop a knife. The leader in the stupidest hat kept swallowing like he was trying to speak.

“We’re here for demons, not goblins,” Mason said. “So move.”

“I…” the goblin glanced at his handful of wavering guards. “Duty says…king says…”

Mason snarled, and half the guards ran. Their leader withered, shoulders slumping as his face turned down. He stepped aside, but soon turned to walk near Mason like he was escorting him.

“King won’t see you,” he muttered. “King can’t see you. Not in charge.”

As they got closer, the fort’s demonic conquerors became clear. Winged creatures sat perched on balconies and rooftops like gargoyles. Two of the big red ‘soldiers’ guarded the gate. Smaller versions of the multi-headed hound lay about chewing on bones. A few glanced in the players’ direction and perked up, but didn’t move.

They could still walk away, he decided. They could go around and figure out a path to the vaults. Or even just turn back and do the main objective. But looking at the calm demons pissed him off.

“Here we go,” he said, turning to the others. “Stay together, listen to your team leader.”

He didn’t see any need to talk complicated tactics or make some grand speech. They all knew the score by now. He couldn’t help but smile at the combat to come. A few players smiled right back. A few looked like they shivered at his expression. It was always interesting to see which was which.

“Maybe if we ask captain,” the guard was saying, looking at Uck. “Or if we say tribes come, yes? Or maybe if…”

Mason summoned his Elven Bow, and the goblin silenced and backed away. It was pride, maybe—some kind of growing ego. But he didn’t like the way these demons had looked at him without panic. One way or another, it would be the last time they did that.

He aimed and a sitting flyer and loosed, his shot emerging with a crack of power, flying straight and true as a bolt of lightning.

The demon’s wings spread and it went to leap before the arrow struck. Ichor and stony flesh exploded out its back. It dropped from the roof and slammed into the ground a few paces from the guards at the front.

Every goblin, human, and demon stared. The guards looked up in unison, screeching and growling as they all stood and started charging towards the players. Mason drew back another arrow and tried not to enjoy himself

too

much.

**

“Two more soldiers on the left!” Mason shouted, putting an icy broadhead arrow through the throat of a third.

Phuong’s sword twirled as he spun and wove some kind of pattern, blasting another off its feet before he turned back to the front line. John, held in reserve, grunted and met the other with a zapping shock that projected at least six feet and hit the thing like a taser. It dropped, and got stomped.

Seamus had discovered the flying demons burned just fine. He was gleefully roasting them as they circled and dove, especially fond of burning off wings so they dropped and broke on the hard ground.

Mason killed anything that tried to flank. Alex, Demi, and Tommaso all stood nearby doing…whatever they were doing. Carl was…somewhere. The rest of the melee fought in a line towards the fort’s gate, taking on wave after wave of creatures pouring out.

“No,” Mason hissed as Streak whined. “Until you learn to dodge, you stay back. Yes you do need to learn.” He loosed another barrage at flyers as they come out a window above. “I’m not saying you

always

have to. But you need to know how. You have to protect yourself. We can’t regenerate

everything

.”

Yes we can

, the wolf grumbled in whiny wolf. Streak flopped over and stared at the many dead demons licking his lips, and Mason shook his head.

“That’s disgusting. They smell awful. Yes it does matter.”

Two of Mason’s rear-guarding traps went off, something growling as the metal teeth snapped. He spun to find half a dozen smaller demons racing down the street at their back, the first arrivals fallen over and grasping at their clamped feet. Streak made a very smug noise as he took off without verbal instruction.

“Only because they’re small!” Mason shouted, loosing a Cripple and watching the shotgun-like blast evaporate a sneaky little ambusher.

Little demons shrieked and scattered as the huge wolf tore into them. He tossed one about ten feet before vanishing two thirds of another into his mouth. He chewed and shook his head with nothing but two clawed feet sticking out.

An ambush was bad, but things were still going well. Mason paused long enough to reach out with One with Nature, trying to get a sense of how much might be out there. He shivered and turned it off instantly, overwhelmed by living things in every direction. It was like staring into a spinning night full of stars.

“Want me to…” Demi shrugged as she got Mason’s attention, “set up a…minefield? Like around us?”

It wasn’t a bad idea, but he wasn’t sure how much mana it’d take. And for now they seemed to have things well in hand. He could tell she was frustrated, like her powers weren’t proving all that useful, or she (and they) didn’t know how to use them properly. But he shook his head.

Phuong the demon-slaying metronome was up there doing his thing. Garet and Jason were becoming experts at holding things off with their long weapons and powers, and knowing just when to strike. Annie was…how’d she even get so covered in demon blood?… holding the left flank of the line, enough room to swing her axe.

A horn blew from somewhere in the fort. The demons flinched as if in fear, most turning and running back even if it exposed their backs. The players hacked down anything close.

Then in less than 30 seconds the demons had all retreated into the fort. They abandoned their posts, not a single flyer left on the outside, the moment frozen and still as the players watched and panted from the fight.

Goblins started cheering. From every building and street they came howling and leaping up and down like it was the world’s greatest parade.

Uck appeared out of nowhere, popping up to stand near the players with his chest out, soaking up glory like a green sponge. Mason rolled his eyes.

“OK,” he called, getting his players to huddle close so they could hear over the shouting. “Good job. Any objections to walking in and finishing the job? I don’t want to give them time to think.”

The players all shook their heads, and Mason grinned, giving Phuong a good whack on the arm.

“Try and keep the same formation unless it gets too tight. If it does, I’ll probly make you wait while we check things out.” He took a breath to make sure they knew he knew he was saying The Phrase. “Be ready for anything.”

They all grinned, comforted maybe by the familiarity, which was why he said it. He felt anxious for them as always, but less and less, because every fight they proved: they

were

ready. And so was he.

They walked in formation towards the fort, a strange chorus of cheering goblins at their back.