Patrol VIII
Woods: March 31st
How long did it take us to reach the woods from
Metamor Keep? I honestly don't remember. I want
to say it took a while, but I remember being in
the woods that evening. Maybe we left earlier than I remember, I don't know.Â
What I do remember was trying to talk to my
traveling companions. Misha and Nemo had gotten
to discussing something early on. That left me with the other three.
I had first tried talking to the older man. The
only thing I got from him was his name had been
Marnie, he had hoped to be made young, and he
didn't want to talk to me. Fine enough, I doubt I'd want to talk to me.
*snorts a laugh* At least we know the older man's
name now. I'm surprised thatt his is his first
patrol. I take it he is also a newcomer to
Metamor then and still a bit bitter about being made a man and not young again.
Instead I decided to get to know my two anthro
companions. I figured if I was going to be on
this cursed journey I might as well try to make some new friends.
Bos and Shema...I miss both of you so much. Time
has left me here while it has swept my friends
one by one away from me. Even my beloved has
been taken away while I remain an old man.
It's only as an old man with your memories as
your only comfort that you look towards the
past. As I do I can see the mistakes I made and
I wonder...why did you two continue to associate with me?
I must preface this next section by stating none
of this is altered. This was one hour into the
patrol from hell, exactly as I remembered it to
be. All of this was what happened, unaltered.
Trust me; I couldn't alter events to make my younger self look worse.
My dress carried with it every ounce of water in
the air and every twig in the damn forest. I
couldn't move without catching on to something,
but at least I had a group I was with so I
didn't get stuck. Nemo and Bos helped me and
Shema caught me when I almost fell over.
"Thank you." I said, brushing mud off my skirt
as best I could. Our only light was the dim
torch light that somehow covered me more in shadow than anything else.
"No problem." She said, giving a small bow. Her
big ears framed against the moon gave her an
almost sinister look. It didn't help that the
only part of her in light was her smile and
little fangs. "Just try to be careful future lord James." I rolled my eyes.
"Did his dress get caught again?" Misha asked from the front of the group.
"It's not a dress!" I snarled. "It's a sarong
and a top that I sewed myself, I sewed myself!"
You do know you need to get a picture of him in
this thing one of these days. ;-)
Someone tapped on my shoulder, snapping me out
of my self pity. I glanced over to Bos, his eyes
glinting in the dark. Shema beside him also
looked at me with an air of curiosity.
"Somethin' wrong? You almost walked into a tree
for a sec' there" I shook my head.
"I appreciate it but I'm...I don't want to be
here." I sighed. "In Isenport when we need
soldiers, you can pay a fee to avoid being
drafted. I want that here in Metamor, it's so much more civilized."
"You guys bribe yur way out of that? Shit thas
weird." Bos said. Shema gave a nod at this.
"Thas only nice when you got da gold to do it. Sucks to be a poor guy like me."
"It doesn't seem very fair to poor merchants and
the like." Shema said. "Most unfortunate for
them." Yes if only they could have been born
rich and noble like me. Except life is miserably
unfair, something my younger self was only learning.
"They just need to make more money." I said.
This concept of unfairness was one I had yet to
internalize. "If they had more money, they'd not
have to go die in whatever war the Emperor sent
them off to." My two companions jaws dropped in unison. "What?"
"You really were a sheltered thing weren't you?"
Shema said. "That's interesting. Move faster,
though, we're falling behind." I turned to the
other three, now far enough away that their
torch was somewhere in the background. We took
off, my skirt and masculinity billowing in the night breeze.
Sheltered is a nice way to put it. He had no
idea just how many advantages he had as a child
and how little regard for others he had. Time
for that crash course in reality! Bos and Shema
seem to be sympathetic at least which is good.
"I hate running." I panted as we rejoined the
others. Misha glanced back at me.Â
"Stop complaining. Everyone has to do this
once." I mumbled a few curses under my breath as we rejoined the death march.
"Les talk about somthin' else." Bos said to me.
"Since ya don't know about bein' poor n stuff."
I shrugged. We moved into a clearing, free of
both trees and leaves. And grass, meaning the
wet ground was one thing. Mud, mud up to my
ankles that pulled my dress down. I struggled with it with every step.
If this patrol doesn't convince him to get rid of
the sarong I'm not sure what will. Love Bos
there, "Don't know about being poor!"
"Are you distressed?" Shema asked.
"I'm fine." I growled, now pulling at least two
pounds of mud. Even I couldn't do that for long
so I stumbled to a stop. "Hey, rage fox, give me a hand?" Misha stopped.
"Excuse me?"
"You're the strong one here, you're much
stronger than me and I'm stuck. Pull me out."
Misha ignored me and kept moving. "Hey!"
"James, you've told me twice now you don't want
my help. So you're not getting it. Either catch
up or we're leaving you behind." That's exactly
how it went down in case you're curious dear reader.
So it wasn't just me being a petty jackass.
It's Misha doing what he needs to do as patrol
leader; you aren't babies out here, you are
soldiers and you pull your own weight.
"James, my name is James." I said, swinging my
hatchet. "I'm not terrible with this thing myself."
"Ya ever used it before?"
"Of course not." I said. "It's a little hand-ax
thing, how hard can it be." I twirled it in my
hand and only succeeded in almost dropping it.
"Uh, okay maybe I need a little practice..."
Maybe you are not terrible, but you are definitely not good with that axe!
"Took me ye-ahs to get good with tis." Bos said,
twanging his bow. Shema fingered her short sword
with her free hand but didn't say anything. The
only weapon I had any experience with was my
glaive but that was lying back in my dwelling.
Behind us an owl hooted and twigs began to
break. My stomach began to climb into my throat.
Every pinprick among the branches was an eye
watching me. Looking up at Misha at the head of
our group, I compared his form and mine.
I was stiff, ready to flare at every noise. He
was calm, his body looked almost relaxed. Yet
despite that I never doubted for a second he
could strike anything down if it attacked him. He was ready for this.
'I'm not ready; I want to get out of here. I
want to go home, why can't I just buy my way out
of here?' Because things didn't work that way in
Metamor Keep. They actually expected you to
honor commitments, not just negotiate your way out of them.
Good for Metamor!
"You seem bitter." Shema said, suddenly speaking
up. I had actually forgotten she was there. I
rubbed the back of my head, trying to rub some
warmth back into it. The air was icy and damp
and it felt like walking through a wall of water.
"Bitter? Why would I be bitter?" I asked. "My
father dumped me in a cursed city that he
stupidly went to for some reason, he never did
tell me." I snapped a stick in half in frustration.Â
"But on the plus side, I've grown a tail! That's
the gift that fucking pays for itself!"
Right you are! The tail is great! Glad to see you love it now. ;-)
"I like hav-en uh tail myself." Bos said. "I like
being a meerkat, they so cute. I can still use uh bow an' arrow."
"How'd you end up here?" I asked. Bos shrugged.
"Liked Metamor, wannad tah stay." There's a
quaint notion, wanting to stay in a city that is
cursed. Personally I've always found that a
foolish desire. "Wanned ta be a fuzzy furry critter. Meerkat works."
"You turned into an animal man." I said.
"Yeah, mose people nah so lucky." Bos said. I
started to say something but the words couldn't
escape my throat. "I get ta see wha its like to
be par' animal. Thas so awesome."
I like Bos. There's a good fellow who has good
reasons to stay at Metamor. I cannot think of
many who wanted to be a fuzzy furry animal as their reason to stay.
'And now I'm here in the woods.' Berl shook his
head. 'Did she ever see me as her son? Really
did she? Was I just a tool for her glory?' He
rubbed his eyes. 'Don't think that, you can
trust her and the Golden Circle. It's the
monsters of Metamor. You can't trust them.' Berl
looked up into the woods. 'Are those lights?' His breath froze in his chest.
Is Berl supposed to remind us of James with his reluctance?
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
_______________________________________________
MKGuild mailing list
[email protected]
http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild
