Location: Three miles outside the Whispering Weald border.
Current Status: Fugitives of the state. Wet. Hungry.
Curse Status: [SCARRED AUTHORITY FIGURES] | 4 Days Remaining.
The rain had finally stopped.
For the moment.
Water dripped steadily from the branches overhead, filling the forest with the soft, miserable rhythm of falling droplets. The ground was soaked, the air smelled of wet earth, and a cold mist lingered between the trees.
The Crisis Management Team had made camp in a small clearing hidden behind a dense wall of brambles.
It wasn't much of a camp.
It was four miserable people, one confused bat-pig, a dying fire, and the growing realization that running away from the law was considerably less glamorous than tavern songs suggested.
Kaelen sat on a damp log, vigorously polishing his greatsword, Diplomacy.
He had been polishing it for nearly twenty minutes.
At this point, the blade was probably cleaner than it had ever been.
The way he was scrubbing it, however, suggested he was hoping to remove something other than dirt.
Across the fire, Elara sat with her leather-bound journal balanced on her knees. A piece of charcoal moved furiously across the page.
She paused.
Read what she had written.
Then adjusted her glasses.
"His steel was cold," she narrated dramatically, "but his heart burned with forbidden rebellion."
Kaelen's polishing slowed.
Elara continued.
"'Arrest me, Captain,' he whispered into the rain, his broad chest heaving. 'Arrest my soul.'"
The polishing stopped.
Slowly, Kaelen lifted his head.
His greatsword rose with him.
The massive blade pointed directly at Elara.
"Elara."
His voice was dangerously calm.
"If you publish that, I will report you to the Inquisition for magical terrorism."
Elara didn't even look up.
"I can't hear you over the sound of my future royalties, Commander."
She grinned and continued writing.
"Besides, Barnaby the Best-Seller just released a ballad about a knight who cries while kissing a mermaid."
Kaelen stared at her.
"I have to escalate."
She tapped the charcoal against her chin.
"The market demands gritty, forbidden romance. And you?"
She smiled.
"You're a goldmine."
Kaelen slowly lowered the sword.
Then he dropped his head into both hands.
'This is my life now.'
He had been a decorated military asset. A veteran of the Orc Incursions. A soldier who had survived battles that had left entire villages burning behind him.
Now he was apparently material for tavern smut.
He closed his eyes and tried to meditate.
Breathe.
Focus.
Center the tactical mind.
Ignore the bard.
Ignore the curse.
Ignore the fact that he had recently flirted with a city guard captain, a guildmaster, and nearly a pot merchant.
His eyelids had barely closed when the neon-pink HUD appeared across the darkness.
[DAILY ROMANCE TIP]
«Eye contact is key! Try holding your target's gaze for exactly 4.5 seconds to establish dominance and intrigue!»
Kaelen's eyes snapped open.
"No."
He stared into the fire.
"No, absolutely not."
He turned toward the edge of the clearing.
"Ignis. I need a distraction."
The seven-foot War Golem stood perfectly still among the trees, blue optical sensors sweeping across the darkness.
"Give me a sitrep."
Ignis turned his head.
"Situation Report."
His voice remained as emotionless as ever.
"We are currently evading the Iron Fleet. Bounties have likely been posted for our arrest. Food supplies are inadequate. Weather conditions remain unfavorable."
He paused.
"Furthermore, Commander Kaelen's hormonal instability remains a Class-A hazard."
Kaelen's eye twitched.
"My what?"
"I have classified your condition according to threat severity."
Ignis continued.
"My internal chronometer indicates we are four days away from a criteria shift. Until then, you are not permitted within fifty yards of anyone holding a clipboard, wearing an eyepatch, or possessing a commanding tone of voice."
"I am aware of the parameters."
Kaelen rubbed his forehead.
"What is our supply status?"
Brother Oat sat cross-legged beside the fire.
He silently raised a wooden sign.
I FORAGED BERRIES. THEY MIGHT BE POISONOUS.
Kaelen stared at the sign.
Then at Oat.
Then back at the sign.
"Excellent."
He sighed.
"A tactical poisoning would at least reset my system."
Oat smiled peacefully.
Then he reached into the pile of berries, picked up a handful of the questionable purple fruit, and tossed them into his mouth.
Elara stopped writing.
Kaelen stared.
Ignis's optical sensors narrowed.
Oat chewed thoughtfully.
He swallowed.
Nothing happened.
He gave Kaelen a thumbs-up.
"Brother Oat's monastic poison resistance is not a viable baseline for the rest of the squad," Ignis said.
"Recommendation: Do not eat the purple flora."
"Noted."
A flutter of wings came from above.
Pud descended from a nearby branch and landed directly on Kaelen's knee.
The peach-colored bat-pig burped.
A tiny puff of pink, heart-shaped smoke floated from its mouth.
Kaelen stared down at it.
Pud produced a tiny wooden sign.
It was clearly a copy of Oat's.
U R PRETTY.
Kaelen slowly looked at the creature.
"No."
Pud squeaked.
"No."
Pud tilted its head.
Kaelen flicked it off his knee with one armored finger.
Pud tumbled harmlessly into the dirt.
It squeaked happily, rolled onto its feet, and immediately began chewing on a pinecone.
Kaelen turned back toward the others.
"Listen to me."
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
His expression hardened.
"We are approaching the Whispering Weald."
The joking stopped.
"Intel suggests this biome is highly volatile. The terrain is enchanted to induce..."
He paused.
"...clumsy accidents."
Elara finally closed her journal.
"You mean the 'tripping over a root and landing on a maiden' enchantment?"
"Affirmative."
Kaelen grimaced.
"The Elven conclaves rely heavily on accidental physical contact to initiate courtship rituals."
Elara raised an eyebrow.
"That's what you read?"
"I studied the tactical reports."
"Of course you did."
"It is a biological minefield."
Kaelen pointed toward the forest.
"I need a perimeter around me at all times. Oat, you take point. Elara, you take the rear."
He looked toward Ignis.
"Ignis..."
The golem waited.
"Keep the hose primed."
"The Hose of Shame is currently pressurized to 400 PSI."
Ignis's runes brightened.
"If you attempt to catch a falling Elf, I will blast you into the canopy."
Kaelen nodded solemnly.
"Good."
He stood.
"That is exactly what I..."
The bushes rustled.
Everyone froze.
Kaelen moved first.
His sword was in his hand before the others had even turned around.
He stepped between the fire and the treeline, his exhaustion instantly replaced by trained reflex.
"Identify yourself!"
The bushes shook again.
Then a man stumbled out of them.
He was an older merchant, soaked from head to toe. One sleeve of his coat had been torn, and he dragged a broken wooden cart behind him. One wheel had snapped clean off.
The poor man looked terrified.
He stopped when he saw the group.
Four heavily armed strangers.
A shirtless monk.
A seven-foot stone golem.
A bard hiding behind a log.
And a giant knight holding a sword.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Kaelen noticed the merchant's face.
His blood went cold.
A massive jagged scar ran across the man's nose.
Kaelen's eyes dropped.
Heavy coat.
Brass buttons.
Authority.
No.
Not again.
DING!
The cheerful bell echoed inside his skull.
The world immediately tinted pink.
[ SYSTEM ALERT: PROXIMITY TRIGGER ]
[ CRITERIA: SCARRED AUTHORITY FIGURES ]
[ MATCH DETECTED ]
[ TARGET RATING: 78% ]
[ ADDITIONAL ASSESSMENT: TARGET APPEARS TO BE A STRICT MAYOR ]
Kaelen's sword slipped from his hand.
It landed in the mud.
"No."
He stared at the merchant.
"No, he's just a merchant."
His voice trembled.
"He sells pots."
The merchant puffed out his chest.
"Who goes there?!"
He tried to sound authoritative.
It almost worked.
"I am a licensed trader of the Guild! Stand down!"
The HUD flashed.
[ TARGET IS ISSUING COMMANDS ]
[ INITIATE SUBMISSION PROTOCOL ]
Kaelen's knees weakened.
The scar.
The coat.
The brass buttons.
The commanding voice.
It was all there.
Every miserable little detail.
His breathing became heavier.
Elara noticed immediately.
"Oh no."
Kaelen took a slow step forward.
The merchant backed away.
"Your..."
Kaelen swallowed.
"Your cart is broken."
The merchant looked at his cart.
"Yes."
Kaelen took another step.
"Let me fix it."
His voice had changed.
That deep, velvety tone had returned.
Elara's eyes widened.
"Oh, no."
Kaelen removed one gauntlet.
Then the other.
They dropped into the mud.
"Let me fix..."
He swallowed again.
"...everything for you, sir."
The merchant's face went pale.
"Code Red!"
Elara dove behind Brother Oat.
"He's hitting on the pot salesman!"
The merchant grabbed a frying pan from the broken cart and held it in front of himself like a shield.
"Stay back, giant!"
His voice cracked.
"I don't have any money!"
"I don't want your coin."
Kaelen stepped closer.
He ran one hand through his damp hair.
"I just want to follow your orders."
The merchant stared at him in horror.
"What?"
"Tell me what to do."
Kaelen smiled.
"Tell me to set up your tent."
Elara covered her face.
"I cannot believe I'm witnessing this."
She pointed toward Ignis.
"Ignis!"
The golem nodded.
"Countermeasure deployed."
FWOOSH!
A pressurized stream of ice-cold water slammed into the back of Kaelen's helmet.
The force knocked him forward.
He landed face-first in the mud directly at the merchant's feet.
The pink HUD flickered.
[SEDuction PROTOCOL INTERRUPTED]
[EMERGENCY RESET]
[PLEASE STOP EMBARRASSING YOURSELF]
Then the system vanished.
Kaelen lay perfectly still.
Cold water dripped from his armor.
Mud covered his helmet.
The merchant stared down at him.
Then slowly looked toward Ignis.
Then Brother Oat.
Then Elara, who was already writing everything down.
The old merchant's mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
"We don't want any pots, thank you," Elara said politely.
She gave him an apologetic smile.
"Have a safe journey."
The merchant dropped his frying pan.
Then his cart.
Then whatever remained of his dignity.
He turned and ran into the darkness.
"HELP!"
His voice faded between the trees.
"THE KNIGHT IS TRYING TO COURT ME!"
Silence returned to the clearing.
Kaelen still hadn't moved.
Elara slowly lowered her journal.
"Well."
Ignis looked at the knight lying face-down in the mud.
Brother Oat calmly raised another sign.
HE WILL BE FINE.
Kaelen finally turned his head.
Mud dripped from his helmet.
"Four more days."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
He stared at the wet ground.
"I just have to survive four more days."
Pud waddled over and sat beside him.
The little creature patted his helmet.
Kaelen closed his eyes.
'Four days.'
A twig snapped somewhere in the forest.
Everyone turned toward the sound.
Kaelen's eyes opened.
Elara slowly reached for her sword.
Ignis's runes brightened.
Brother Oat lowered his sign.
From beyond the trees came a soft, melodic voice.
"Who's there?"
Kaelen froze.
The voice was unmistakably feminine.
Young.
Calm.
And, judging by the faint authority in her tone, probably important.
The HUD flickered back to life.
Kaelen's face went pale.
[ SCAN INITIATED ]
[ UNKNOWN FEMALE TARGET DETECTED ]
[ RACE: ELF ]
[ AUTHORITY LEVEL: UNKNOWN ]
[ SCAR STATUS: PENDING ]
Kaelen slowly pushed himself out of the mud.
"No."
Elara looked at him.
"What?"
Kaelen stared into the dark forest.
His hand trembled around Diplomacy's hilt.
"We're leaving."
Elara blinked.
"Leaving where?"
"Anywhere."
The voice came again.
"Hello?"
Kaelen looked at the others.
"Now."
Ignis stepped forward.
"Commander, the objective was to enter the Whispering Weald."
Kaelen pointed toward the forest.
"The objective has changed."
Brother Oat raised his sign.
RUNNING IS ALSO TACTICAL.
Kaelen nodded.
"Finally, someone understands me."
The four of them turned toward the deeper forest.
Then they ran.