A Gamer's Guide 403 (Patreon)

Thankfully, I only have to wait an hour or so before the final pieces are done, a full team of enthusiastic goblins dressing me in the most dramatic coat I’ve ever seen, taking the time to add frilly details here and there just for the sake of it. Unfortunately, I have to stop them at some point: specifically when they try to put shoes on me. I have to draw the line somewhere, after all.

“Ah, no, that’s okay,” I say, drawing my feet away from the goblin trying to make a Cinderella out of me. He freezes on the spot. I give him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I’m not much for footwear.”

“Whoa, Kitty!” Gecko exclaims from somewhere behind me. “How long have you been awake?”

“Only a few minutes,” I say. “What’s up with the, um…” I wriggle a little in my bindings. 

She steps around my back, letting me see her apologetic face. She’s so nice to me. “Sorry about the whole bondage thing. Maddanne needed your measurements to fashion a proper outfit—can’t have you attending the banquet in nothing but my old robe—and you didn’t wake up even when we crashed cymbals in your ears, so… Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely. This is surprisingly comfortable, actually. You should try it sometime.”

“Maybe later, the banquet starts in,” she glances at an invisible status window, “twenty minutes or so. Of course, the pre-party has already begun. People have been shouting and drinking in the streets for hours.”

“Really?” I can’t hear them. I can’t smell them. There should be thousands of them. Alcohol smells a lot, as does excitement. But I can’t smell it. I can barely smell what’s in the room. “That’s surprising.”

“A bit, I guess.” She looks me up and down. “Are you, uh… Going to get down from there?”

Uh-oh. “I, um…” I don’t have my claws. My body feels as heavy as lead. The thin ropes holding me in place might as well be steel cables. “I… can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“Yeah.”

She blinks at me. “...Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t you just, like… Slice with your claws? Or—or bite through them? No, wait, you should totally be able to pull yourself free. I mean, you’re strong! You can lift fully-grown men with a single arm, so…”

“I can’t.” I really hope the annoyance isn’t too evident in my voice. “Now, would you please let me down? It’s starting to feel just a twinge humiliating.”

“Oh, well… Sure, Kitty. Sorry,” she mutters, motioning to a pair of goblins. They quickly dart over to a pair of knots tied to the floor, and once they’ve got them all untied, I drop to the ground in a heap so graceful you’d think I choreographed in. Gecko steps up to me. “You alright there?”

Groaning only a little, I try to stand up, only to realize that I can’t. The floor is made from hardwood and the stockings I’m wearing leave my feet too slippery to get any grip. On my hands and knees, my whole body trembling, I force a breath through gritted teeth. Okay. Okay. Not being able to escape some ropes is one thing. Not being able to fight off Leion is another. But if I can’t even stand up like normal, then…

Gecko takes me by the arm and pulls me to my feet. “Are you sure you’re alright? I don’t want to assume anything, but something seems seriously off about you. Ever since you reformed, you’ve been, well…” She shrugs, which says more than words ever could. 

“I don’t know,” I admit, clutching to her robe because if I fall over again I might die from shame. “I genuinely don’t know. But… I think I’ll be okay. At the very least, it’s not like I’m going to die or anything.”

“I suppose,” she says, her eyes wandering over towards the door. “Do you think you can walk? I know I said this before, but you really don’t have to join the banquet. Heck, if you want to grab your two buddies and slip out the back, I doubt anyone would mind it too much.”

With her as anchor, I center my weight, successfully allowing me to stand on my own two feet. My knees are shaking and my legs are wobbling but I am standing. “I want to be there,” I say, very deliberately. “I want to see the kind of beings who wouldn’t mind eating rats made from people.”

She lets me go, though keeping her hands raised in case I fall again. Luckily for us both, I’m steady now. Steady, and ready. “Aren’t you being a bit dramatic about it?”

“Am I—” I whirl towards her so fast I almost fly off my feet. But she doesn’t look annoyed or angry or anything, just mildly curious. A little confused, even. “No,” I say. “I don’t think I’m being dramatic. Honestly, the fact that I seem to be the only one who finds this even slightly disturbing is disturbing in and of itself. I mean, I’m the guy who—”

Her eyes drift down to the status window. Oh, yeah. T-minus twenty minutes or whatever. “Sorry, Kitty, could we discuss this later? We’re running a bit short.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” I say, and I’d like to say a whole lot more, but I don’t think this is the time. So, instead, I say, “Would you mind helping me down the stairs?” You know. Like an arthritic grandmother. 

Worst of all, her only response is to smile mildly and say, without a shred of irony, “Not at all.” 

So she helps me down the stairs, one arm on my forearm and the other across my back, guiding me step by step through the winding hallways of the castle, all the way to the banquet hall. As I had unfortunately expected, the hall is absolutely packed. The room itself is big enough to seat hundreds, but I’m pretty sure some liberties have been taken, because there’s a minimum of a thousand goblins in here, all hustling and bustling, talking amongst one another, drinking merrily at the many long tables stretching across the room, occasionally pausing to burst into slurred song not even all-tongue can translate. 

Thankfully for my heart and mind, none of these seem to notice my arrival. Yayy. 

That is until the barker spots us. His yellow eyes hone in on me, light up in awe and reverence, and once the joyful surprise has been wrestled down by his years of commitment to his work, he turns away from us, towards the banquet as a whole, puffs up his chest, and before I can even consider undoing him, he booms across the hall: “THE GOD OF HOPE, PURGER OF ACHERON, ORAN AND KINGFIST, HIS DIVINE SELF, KITTY HAS ARRIVED, ESCORTED BY HER HUMANSHIP JEEKO, BENEFICIARY OF THE GOD OF COMEDY, CHALLENGER OF THE HARD DIFFICULTY. ALL RISE IN HONOR OF THEIR GLORIOUS ARRIVAL!”

The whole hall has fallen silent. A thousand gazes have turned to us, all as one, brimming with joy and exultation. Gecko’s grip on my waist and arm tightens, which is good, because otherwise I think I would’ve collapsed again. Before us, the goblins rise. Now that they do, I can actually spot a few familiar faces—seated at a table a bit separate from all the rest, but easily visible to everyone else, almost on a stage, is Lett, and Garath, and Leion, and Prop, and Maggie. They rise too. On their feet, together, they smile, and as if on cue, even though nobody told them to, they start clapping. Everyone does. They all clap thunderously, the horrible smattering sound bouncing off the walls and the arches in the roof and the pillars and the colorful flags hung around the room. 

Clap clap clap clap clap clap. 

But I don’t start glowing, and I don’t fall through anything. Even though I know for a fact I would prefer to be dead, I’m not going anywhere. That’s odd. 

I glance at Gecko. She smiles back at me, a little sheepish, almost like she’s apologizing. If I hadn’t been able to read her heart, I might have assumed she was apologizing for them. For the fact that this is happening. For not having been able to somehow avert this horror. But that isn’t it. I wish it was, but it isn’t. Her heart shines through clearly, singing, ringing over the applause crashing through the room like peals of thunder, saying, Sorry I’m not clapping too.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. But nothing happens. Nobody goes away. And I can’t get out of her arms. Even if I could, I don’t have claws anymore. I don’t have anything. 

All I have is…

Slowly, I raise my hand, showing them all my palm. The applause stops. Their faces morph from glee into expectation. Hope. Yeah, that’s it. They hope to hear me say something. A few words from their god. They would die for it. They would kill each other if I gave the word. All I need to turn this banquet into a bloody massacre is my words. That’s all. Even worse, they want it. Nobody dares to breathe because the sound might drown out whatever words I speak. But they want my command. 

I glance to Gecko again. She nods. 

…Well, then.

I return my attention to the gathered guests, allowing a mild smile to colonize my face. 

“Let’s begin the banquet, shall we?”