The end of the world. Curiously, much of the time the situations people envisage when those words are said are not the end of the world itself. Many people interpret the ‘end of the world’ as the end of humanity on the world.
For most humanity ending events, the world itself might actually be better off for it. Don’t get me wrong, even I don’t plan on moving on to the next world anytime soon, but you have to admit that humanity as a whole have a negative effect on anything and everything.
-An unknown scholar
With the money Ren gives us for our efforts, we are able to buy the tools and supplies we need. The tools have to be custom made for our size, so we stay another couple of days.
After those are done, we bid the gnomes farewell and start the long trek home – up the mountain, through the caves, down the mountain, across the plains, over the bridge and down the river until we make it back to camp.
Although the town was nice and their food was good, it was a little too safe and easy for us. What was the point of being adventurers if you stay in a place that repels monsters?
That, and the place was a little too… Little, to be comfortable for me.
Time passes, weeks probably, although it’s difficult to tell when you aren’t keeping a careful count.
We got surprised by a stampede of copper bulls a few days back. We managed to get out of their way in one piece, but our camp was torn to pieces.
Rebuilding takes time, more because of the scarcity of nearby trees than anything else. Sometimes we have to roam for up to half an hour before finding a suitable copse of trees to cut down and bring back.
We build another cabin from the ground up, then a watchtower. It’s nothing fancy, more a small room on stilts than anything else, but at least we aren’t going to be taken by surprise again.
For a while, we leave it at that, but then the floor of our cabin starts getting filled up with random monster materials and equipment, so we start building another building to use as storage. After that, well… I suppose we must’ve gotten used to roaming around to find trees, because a stack of logs keeps growing next to the storage cabin.
Until the twins decide to use it to build a palisade wall around the base, that is. Xiltroth and I get bored and start digging a dry moat around that, and we sharpen sticks and branches to line it with. All the dirt we dig up we just dump in a pile a short distance from the camp, smoothing it out to little taller than knee height to prevent an obstruction to vision. None of this is particularly difficult or complicated, just exhausting and time-consuming.
Once we finish all that, we don’t even have to worry about weaker monsters anymore. The more powerful ones might be able to jump over the wall or simply plough through it, but most monsters around here aren’t that strong.
We find and carry – or in one case push – rocks of varying sizes back to our base to use as crude weights. With all the work we are putting into it, the place is starting to feel less like a temporary camp and more like a home.
None of this happens quickly. It took us a few months all up, including several trips back to the gnome town every now and again for simple supplies like nails and rope.
And it seems our work was not for naught. Xiltroth, on duty in the watchtower, just spotted something coming towards us in the distance.
“Another stampede?” I call up, worried. Our wall might be able to hold up under the assault of a few of them, but ten, twenty, a hundred? Probably not.
“I don’t think so.” Xiltroth calls back down. “Too few of them. Maybe a couple dozen. And it might just be the distance, but they seem to be strangely… Tall?” The last word he says with a faint hint of confusion in his voice, making it clear to me that he himself isn’t sure what he’s seeing.
Whatever they are, we best prepare for the worst. Hurrying over to the gate, I pull it shut and lift a board into place to lock it there. That done, I climb up the ladder to the watch tower, which is right next to the gate, to see if I can see the situation for myself.
I squint into the distance and can only barely make out the group. Their movement suggests they are four-legged, but at the same time they look to be much taller than any normal animal I’ve seen – save perhaps a giraffe. They are moving at a steady pace, less than my sprinting speed but more than I could comfortably travel long distances at.
It only takes a minute or two before they are close enough to make out more exact details.
“What are they?” Xiltroth shakes his head in confusion. “Some sort of deformed horse beastman?”
“No.” I say, frowning. “Centaurs.”
With the body of a horse but sporting a human torso and upper body sprouting from where the horse’s head would usually be, they are a strange sight to those unfamiliar with their species. They are all wearing similar clothing, woven or formed from leather to cover not only their human upper body but drape over their equine torsos like blankets.
After another minute, they slow to a halt a way out from our walls.
That’s something, at least. Now we won’t have to fish heavy corpses from the moat. Whether we’ll have to bury some, still… Is up for debate.
“You!” A heavily muscled centaur trots to the front of the herd and points his sword at us. “This is our land! Leave!”
I stifle an incredulous snort. “We’ve been here nearly half a year now, and this is the first we’ve seen of any centaurs.” I call back down to him. “Besides, there’s plenty of empty land around here. It isn’t hard to find another place like this along the river.”
“If you won’t leave, then-” He begins to raise his sword when a centaur woman approaches him and appears to try and talk him down. After a few words are exchanged, he hits her over the jaw with the hilt of his sword and she staggers away, clutching at her mouth. I notice a hint of red dripping down her hand before I am distracted by him raising his sword once again. “Attack!”
“Oh, for the love of…” I sigh, pointing my hand down at them as bows are raised and arrows nocked. Fire streams from my hand, billowing in thin ribbons over and through the herd of centaurs before dissipating into thin air.
Most of the centaurs rear back, their expressions somewhat frightened but more… Confused. I had controlled my fire to not hurt them, mostly as a show of force than anything else.
Mostly.
A series of snaps ring out, and the centaurs all drop their bows almost simultaneously as the bowstrings snap and whip at the hands of their wielders, singed through by my flames.
“Piss off.” I call down to the lead centaur.
With an ugly expression, he turns and leads his herd to gallop away. Apparently, he’s smart enough to realise that attacking a fortification, no matter how flimsy, without and siege or ranged weapons, is a terrible idea.
“That went better than I expected.” Xiltroth remarks, watching them retreat.
I shake my head. “They’ll be back.”
Xiltroth looks at me in confusion. “After seeing how powerful you are? And their bowstrings are broken, what could they do, even if they do come back?”
“Their leader is overly aggressive, he won’t be satisfied with this loss.” I say, following their movements warily. “They’ll have spare bowstrings as well, so that won’t stop them from attacking.”
Xiltroth nods. “You’re probably right.” His eyes continue to track the centaurs with no concern visible on his face. “It’s been a while since we fought people. I might be a little rusty.”
“Doubt it. I’ve seen you practicing your staff techniques every morning. If anything, you’ve gotten better.” I reply.
“Perhaps.” Xiltroth nods. “But that won’t help us here. And Aaron… I’m almost out of bolts. The gnome village doesn’t have crossbows, so once I’m out, I’m out.”
I frown. “That’s not good. Without your crossbow, I’m the only one with ranged attacks left – and my fire and earth magic are nowhere near as fast as a crossbow bolt. It’ll limit the actions we can take in the future considerably.”
“Nothing we can do, I’m afraid.” Xiltroth shrugs.
“True.” I nod. “Well, keep a watchful eye out.”
Xiltroth nods back, and I climb back down the ladder.
Despite my belief that they will be back, nothing happens for the rest of they day.
That night, I am awoken by Boaz roughly jostling my arm. “One of them’s coming back.” He says, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards the gate. “Thought yeh’d want to be awake fer this, whatever it might be.”
“Just one?” I ask, already starting to slip on my armour. “That doesn’t make sense. They were practically raring to fight us earlier, but they just send one person?”
Shaking my head in confusion, I don my helmet. “Wake the others. If they’re using this one as a distraction and circling their main force to attack from another direction… The gate is the only weak point in our fortifications, but it’s not implausible that it could be breached elsewhere.”
Boaz nods, shaking the others to rouse them.
“What is it? Monster?” Jakin grunts, standing up and stretching. “Or are those centaur things you mentioned back again?”
Xiltroth stands and grasps his staff wordlessly.
“A single centaur is approaching.” I explain. “Could be a distraction, or who knows what else. Xiltroth, see if you can spot anything new from the tower-”
Xiltroth nods and exits the cabin.
“As for us, we get the rest of our gear on and join him as soon as possible.” I finish.
After frantically pulling on our armour, we step oustide and jog up to the watchtower.
“Can’t see anything around apart from that one centaur.” Xiltroth reports, looking down at us. “Either they’re really good at hiding for their size, or he’s come alone.”
“If anything, that just makes this more confusing.” I grumble as I climb up the ladder.
Reaching the top, I peer out into the night. A helpful point from Xiltroth soon has me looking in the right direction, and I spot the centaur in question.
It is approaching us at a much slower speed than the herd did earlier, but has nonetheless nearly reached our camp.
Slowing to a halt a short distance away from the gate, the centaur looks up at the guard tower, where the four of us stare back at it. “I… I mean no harm.” The centaur calls up to us.
“Why are you here?” I call back down.
The centaur shuffles nervously on its hooves. “I know you don’t… Have a very good impression of us, but I, we need your help.”
“You attacked us earlier. Why should we help you?” I reply unsympathetically.
“Earlier… You were right. This isn’t our land, ours is further to the east. Our chief just wanted your camp, and he – he’s furious.” The centaur says fearfully. “He’ll lead us to attack again first thing in the morning.”
My eyebrow furrow in confusion. “Your point?”
“I, I want you to kill him. If he’s dead, a new chief will be elected, and we won’t have any reason to attack you.” The centaur pleads.
Now I’m really confused. “But why do you want him dead?”
“The previous chief… He was my father.” The centaur says hesitantly. “According to tradition, if one wishes to become chief, they have to compete with the current chief in a hunt: Whoever kills the most powerful beast or monster becomes the chief.”
Shaking its head, the centaur continues. “The current chief broke tradition. He murdered my father in cold blood, beat the rest of us into submission and took his place as chief by force.”
“Revenge, then.” I nod. “But even if we were to help you, how would we kill him? We can’t just walk into the camp and lop his head off. Surely he would have guards around the camp, and around himself.”
“Yeh’re not considering this, are yeh?” Jakin whispers to me. “The whole thing reeks of a trap.”
“We’ll make a decision after we have all the information.” I whisper back.
“Most of us are asleep right now.” The centaur continues, not having heard our whispered exchange. “There are a few guards around the camp, but not around his tent. He thinks that everyone is too afraid of him to try attacking him.”
“Why not kill him yourself, then?” I ask.
The slightest sliver of light from the moon glints off of a tear on the centaur’s face before it wipes it off hurriedly. “Because he’s right.”
“Look, I can get you into camp. Distracting one of the lookouts won’t be difficult. All you have to do is walk into the tent and stab him while he’s sleeping.” The centaur pleads. “Please, just help me.”
“Give us a minute.” I call down.
“I still think it’s a trap.” Jakin whispers.
“It could very well be.” I agree. “But he seems sincere enough to me.”
Boaz nods. “I think he’s telling the truth.”
“Either way,” I reason, “It’s not really our decision to make. The three of us, in our big, clunky armour? They’d hear us from a mile out. Only Xiltroth can do it, so it’s his choice to make.”
Jakin and Boaz nod and shift their gazes to Xiltroth, who is strangely quiet. He holds up a hand for silence, and after a few moments he nods determinedly. “I’ll do it.”
(POV Xiltroth)
Hearing him speak made me think about my own father. He was terrible, no doubt about it, but he doesn’t deserve to die for it. If he was killed, would I do the same? Find the killer, get revenge?
…I don’t think I would. At the same time, I don’t think I could stand by and let it happen if someone was trying to kill him.
Aaron nods. “Alright. We’ll follow nearby. If you need help, give a yell and we’ll run in and start bashing heads.” He glances at the twins. “Or knees.”
My mouth pulls up into a smile despite the seriousness of what I am going into. “What if someone else yells?”
Aaron shrugs. “If someone else yells, you’ll probably still need help.”
There’s truth in that.
“Alright, let’s go while the night’s still young.” Aaron says before turning around and calling down to the centaur, “We’ll do it.”
Before long we set out, following the centaur back to his camp, or so we hope. If it’s a trap… That would be unfortunate, but I’m sure Aaron would be able to figure something out with his magic.
None of us carry torches, or any other source of light. Too easy to be spotted like that. We walk in the darkness, seeing solely by the light of the moon. It takes a short while, perhaps a few kilometres, until we see the glow of their campfires.
Moving quietly over to the centaur, I whisper, “Do centaurs have the same organs as a human?” I need to make sure he dies as quickly and quietly as possible, and that won’t happen if I assume their human parts are the same as ours and they turn out not to be.
“I haven’t had much contact with humans, so I can’t be sure.” He replies quietly. “But most of our organs are in our lower bodies.” He pats the side of his horse half.
Hm. I don’t even know where the organs of a normal horse are, so it’s impossible for me to guess where they might be on something that’s half horse, half human. Still, if nothing else, I know where they breathe from. That should be enough.
My foot slips slightly in a patch of mud before I catch myself. Crouching down, I grab handfuls of the stuff and start covering my hair with it. My dark skin blends in naturally with the night, but the same can’t be said of my hair, white as it is. Daubing it with mud not only covers it up, but it also keeps it out of my eyes and helps to mask my scent, although that won’t be much of a factor here.
“Alright, this is close enough.” Aaron whispers, halting. “We’ll watch from here. Good luck, Xiltroth.”
I nod.
“Wait here a short while. I’ll distract the lookout, and then you’ll have an opportunity to slip in. Look for the big tent, near the middle of the camp.” The centaur trots towards the camp.
“If this be a trap… They’ll attack as soon as yeh get in to camp and turn yer back.” Jakin says warningly. “Be wary.”
I nod again and turn my head to watch the centaur. He has started talking to the lookout, slowly walking into the camp so that the lookout has to turn around to keep him in view. There aren’t any other lookouts, not in view at least. Now is my chance.
Running towards the camp and noting an almost complete lack of cover across the area, I sincerely hope he can distract the lookout for long enough. But the lookout doesn’t turn back around, and within a few seconds I’m within a stone’s throw of the camp. Slowing my movement, I choose my steps more carefully to make as little sound as possible.
Just as the lookout starts to shift his body back towards the open, I dart behind the fabric of a tent, a few tents to the side. They’re much larger than they looked from afar, and easily shield my entire body from view.
I’m in.
Listening carefully, I move among the tents, following the footfalls of hooves. After a short distance, they slow to a halt. Peeking around the edge of the tent, I take a look at the centaur that brought us here, this time in the light of a camp fire.
His lip is heavily swollen, and the area around it looks discoloured and purple. There are several other bruises on her cheeks and even neck that I can barely see, half healed abrasions. No… Not him, her. This must be the same centaur that tried to stop their chief from attacking us.
Her motivation feels even more genuine, now.
My eyes roam around the camp fire area, noting another centaur poking idly at the fire and inspecting the tents to determine my target. I see one significantly larger than the rest. Moving in between the tents, I quickly make my way to the rear of the tent and feel at the fabric. Animal hides. Shouldn’t make any sound.
I draw my dagger and carefully make a slit large enough for me to slip through. Pulling it slightly open, I look through. By a sliver of light coming through the entrance of the tent from the fire, I can see the large form of a sleeping centaur.
After a second, I can just barely see enough of the face to recognise that it is indeed the centaur chief, sleeping soundly on a bed of furs. Pulling the slit fully open, I step quietly though and move carefully around to his human upper body. Taking a silent breath, I crouch down and swiftly but surely slit his throat.
His eyes shoot open and he tries to take a breath, only to choke in his own blood. I slip back out of the tent as he struggles to his feet, placing a hand on his throat in a fruitless attempt to staunch the bleeding. Desperately darting around, his eyes lock onto the moonlight coming in from my slit in the tent and he staggers towards it, coughing and hacking up blood as he goes.
I move behind another tent out of caution, but he just trips over the fabric and tumbles to the ground, bringing down the next tent over in the process. The collapsed tent bulges from the inside, violent expletives spitting forth from within as its resident struggles to escape its confines.
This looks like my cue to exit. I can already tell that he’s a dead man standing: he’ll drown in his own blood or run out of it, whichever happens first. Bandages won’t do a thing, and even if they happen to have a holy magi, they’ll still have to get all the blood out of his lungs, and they don’t have that much time.
Actually, this should be a good for me. The commotion should attract the lookouts, and I can make my escape while they’re dealing with what I left back there.
Making my way through the gaps between the tents – a fine path for me, but much too narrow for beings as large as centaurs – I head to the edge of the camp I came from where, sure enough, the lookout is now heading towards the sounds of shouts behind me.
As easy as that, I run out of camp and back towards where I remember the others being. I spot them seconds later, obviously having spotted the commotion and come in to reinforce me. Smiling wryly to myself, I wave them over.
“You alright?” Aaron asks, squinting in the moonlight in attempt to see if I have any injuries.
“Fine.” I say. “He didn’t even manage to touch me.”
“No ambush, then?” Jakin asks.
I shake my head. “No ambush. I caught a look at the centaur that brought us here by the fire – it was the one from yesterday that tried to stop their chief attacking us and got beaten for it. By the bruises she had, it wasn’t the first time, either.”
“That would explain why she was too afraid to do it herself.” Aaron nods contemplatively. “I sort of wish it was always so simple to solve our problems.”
“I don’t.” I reply quietly, remembering the way he coughed up blood, desperately struggling to live despite knowing there was no way for him to survive. “It wasn’t even a fight. Just an execution.”
“An assassination, technically. But no, this isn’t how I’d rather do things, even if it is easier. If you’re going to kill a man, you should at least give him the courtesy of looking him in the face as you do so.” Aaron agrees sadly.
“The alternative was a large, bloody battle where we’d be outnumbered at least six to one. We’re all in one piece and our enemies won’t attack us again. It wasn’t a good solution, but it was the best we had.” Boaz looks towards the commotion erupting in the centaur camp.
“Unless she was wrong.” Jakin says darkly. “And they attack anyway.”
“That’s a question that’ll be answered in the morning, whatever happens.” Aaron replies. “Now let’s head back, get what sleep we can before the sun comes up.”
Sleep… Despite the darkness surrounding us, it seems almost like a foreign concept to me right now. I feel completely awake, and not at all tired. I suppose it’s because of all those times I slipped out at night back at my father’s house. I almost feel more tired during the day. But if Jakin’s right, we might need all the sleep we can get.
