A Gamer's Guide 389 (Patreon)

“I have no idea what they’re doing,” I mutter. Since Lett is in my arms trying to read the map, he can hear me just as well as Garath, upon whose head we’re sitting.

“Kingfist,” Lett says. “Seats the Archjudge of Bunue.”

I look down at the city. Yeah, that castle is absolutely big enough to house an archjudge. Considering the mess I got into from hanging out with a simple judge, I can’t imagine what kind of antics would arise from checking out a city with an archjudge in it. 

On the other hand… “What’s up with the circles around it? It’s like they dug a bunch of trenches and then put up walls, too.” Wait, isn’t Garath knowledgeable about military stuff? “Hey, Garath, what are they doing down there?”

Garath rolls his big eye to look at the city, far below. “I confess I am not certain. Though, to be frank, I would not describe myself as knowledgeable in any form of military action not involving the orchestrated mass-burning of cities.”

“Right. Yeah, that makes sense.” I look down at the city. Since it’s really far away, there’s no reason to go out of our way to check it out or anything. We have a schedule to keep, too. No, wait, that’s untrue; I have on multiple occasions encouraged the taking of random detours and experiencing of so-called whimsy. 

So, while we don’t need to check it out or anything…

“Garath, would you mind flying a bit closer?”

“Are you quite certain? There is a chance they may attempt to evacuate, should we approach too closely.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. The sky is gray, and white is basically gray, so you’re kinda-sorta camouflaged! We won’t be there for long anyways. I only want to check what they’re doing.” And this mainly because, I mean… It’s a big city surrounded by tents and trenches. From this up high, I can’t exactly count how many tents there are, but I’d wager several thousand at the very least, not to mention the ant-like goblins swarming around them.

“Very well, then,” Garath says and begins descending, tilting his wings and body to head closer to the city. 

Once we’re close enough, I start being able to make out some details. The first thing I look for is, as always, churches, because I like how different they all tend to be, not to mention that they’re always cool to some degree. Except, now that I can actually tell the houses apart, I’m not really noticing any churches? There are some places where I would expect there to be churches, but they’re empty, save for blackened rubble, which feels very odd. There’s also a bit of other damage suggesting that some sort of conflict has been going on here. Parts of the big wall surrounding the city have been destroyed and rebuilt in a shoddy, fast manner. 

And then there are the people around the tents. I wasn’t sure what they were from high above—maybe a festival?—but now that we’re close enough, I can totally tell that they’re military. They’ve got canons of varying sizes pointed at the city wall, alongside a number of clearly armed goblins, some of them in full suits of armor, just like medieval knights. 

Armed with… 

“Could you go a little closer, Garath?” 

Obliging, Garath lowers our altitude a bit more. Now I can see them properly, and I can even start making out faces and such. I was starting to think their spears were a bit too short, but… No, those are guns. Wait, no, rifles. Muskets? Oh, God, I suck at gun terminology. They are tubes that make thunder. 

…What range do muskets have? Fifty meters? A hundred? I’m starting to think we might be close enough to get hit if they start shooting. 

Which I would be much more worried about if they were, well… shooting. 

They aren’t. As a matter of fact, they are looking up to us in wide-eyed shock and… awe? Is that it? We’re a bit too high up to tell the specifics, frankly. 

Anyways, this situation is getting weirder and weirder. Everything seems to point to the fact that this army is attacking the city, but… Why? I’d love to assume that wars are the common cold of this kind of world, but so far, I’ve at least been able to partially understand what’s happening. If this was a normal army-attacking-thing situation I’d feel the same, but they still aren’t attacking, and we’re only getting closer and closer. 

Hmm. Let’s see, if they were to shoot at us, then as long as we’re on Garath’s head, they won’t be able to hit us, so…

“Let’s get closer,” I say. “I want to see how close we can get before they attack.”

“Your will be done.”

We get closer. Below, a few hundred meters from what I think was once the main entrance to the city, a big crowd is both forming and dispersing, creating a natural empty space perfect for us to land at. They’re all looking up, their guns either loosely held at their sides or clutched to their chest with no inbetween. With only a hundred meters left to descend, I can now tell what faces they making. It’s awe. Sheer, joyous awe. 

Smiling, too.

“Should I…?”

“Yeah,” I breathe. “Land.”

In the middle of a ring formed of thousands of goblins, all dressed in different worn and dirtied uniforms, Garath touches ground. Poking my head out from behind one of Garath’s horn, I can spot them, watching us, looking up at Garath with a mix of fear and adoration. Kind of like how people are meant to both love and fear the Abrahamic God. That’s a bit how it feels. 

I still don’t trust it. Them. Something is off, and I don’t like it.

Turning back to Lett, I pat him on the shoulder. “Stay here,” I tell him. “And keep out of sight. If they can see you, they can kill you. That’s how guns work. Do you understand?”

He nods at me, though apprehension paints every inch of his face.

I smile and pat him on the head. “I’ll be right back. I just want to figure out what’s going on here.”

Standing up, I move to the side, looking out over the side of Garath’s head. Sure, I’d survive a jump from this height, but it wouldn’t be a very gracious arrival, breaking both my legs and all…

Helpful as always, Garath lowers his head just enough for Lett to remain out of sight, while also keeping me from a really lame entrance. Thanks, man.

I jump off, count two seconds in the air, and land right below his chin. The crowd of soldiers are standing about fifty meters away, in an almost perfect circle around Garath. They’re all pressed so tightly together that if one fell backwards, the rest would all go tumbling along with them. It’s like a thick wall of goblins with no space between them. Packed like sardines. All anxious to be close enough to look at me. 

That’s the weirdest part, I think. It makes my skin crawl. Why aren’t you looking at the dragon with four wings and two arms? Why are you looking at me, the random human who happens to be here? Why…?

As I watch, my mind and body both growing uneasy at the single-minded attention paid to me, the crowd starts to move. Maybe this is it? Maybe now they’ll do like they usually do and attack me, just like always?

The wall of goblins parts to allow a small group of goblins to emerge into the circle, out of the crowd and before me. There are three of them, one at the head, and two at his sides. Compared to the shoddily dressed soldiers, these look far more like nobles, with their proper uniforms and fancy hats and ornate swords clipped to their sides. Especially the one at the head seems fancy beyond the usual. A judge? Or something above that? What military ranks do they operate on anyhow?

Hang on. Am I supposed to be bowing? They do seem to be higher-ranking officials, and I really don’t want any trouble—all I want is to know what the heck is going on—so maybe…

They take the hats from their heads, exposing their bald heads. 

“Oh God of Hope,” the one at the front says, making me freeze in place because oh God no why would he say that, and then, even worse, infinitely worse, worse than any outcome I could have imagined including getting shot with a canon, he bows. All the way down, on both knees. White-gloved hands stained with mud and dirt, and his nose pressed into the ground. 

The ones at his side follow suit, and then the rest of the soldiers, though they can only go down on their knees, being too packed to grovel as badly as the main goblin does.

If I’d still had a pulse, still had blood pumping in these rusty veins of mine, I’d be red up to my ears out of shame. Instead, because I have the body of an absolute wuss, I start turning white and transparent, which is not helping because all it does is make the soldiers start to ooh and aah at my fantastical display of cowardice.

IwanttoliveIwanttoliveIwanttolive…

Steeling myself, I start to consider my exit strategies. Option one: Garath eats me and I die. This would be pretty nice but it would be a betrayal of Lett.

You would be much too stringy.>

Thanks, Garath. I can always count on you. Option two—

The goblin kowtowing closest to me raises his face. His nose is covered in dirt. “Thank You, oh God of Hope, for hearing our prayers.”

Ah. Uh. 

Sweating is another bodily function I can’t help but miss. If I was as sweaty right now as I should be considering my nervousness, they wouldn’t have any choice but notice and maybe stop looking at me like I’m a divine messenger or something. 

Frankly, I want to run away. However, if I ran away now, then all of this would have been for nothing and all of these people would be really, really disappointed. At least, I think so. At the very least, I can tell that the current social expectation is for me to stay, and since doing so just happens to not require any action or effort at this moment, I will comply. 

“In lieu of the forces to be sent to our aid under the command of Count Jarrenhaim, You, our God, have been so momentously kind to appear in person, solidifying our praise and purpose! With mere mortals such as us, You share Your divine hope, not only in the guarantee of tomorrow, but indeed in the success of this world-shaking campaign.”