World Boss: Break the Narrative

Outside the tent a good two hundred goblins were gathering. They had heard there had been a murder. So everyone spread that info around, until someone had the great idea: let’s go over there. So of course they needed to gather a large group and arm themselves. This is how detective work is done. No, this isn’t a mob. It didn’t have any momentum yet.

I needed to stall this out, “Hey everyone, What are you doing, now?”

It was basically like they had been caught with their pants down. If you have ever experienced that feeling you will know the awkward anxiety when you realize that no explanation you can give as to how you got this way isn’t going to sound good. The hell of it is, even though lying is off the table you aren’t going to tell the truth. The truth looked bad. Much like Becky Thomspon’s parents after they caught us, I planned to take the ‘I am not mad, I just worried for your safety’ route. It is strangely more intimidating to those with guilty consciences.

This actually worked better Than I would have hoped. A mob may not need a leader, but it bled momentum quickly when every individual suddenly tried to blend in with the crowd to avoid consequences. I just stood there channeling the active listening, open, nonjudgmental concern of Becky’s mom.

The crowd, much like seventeen year-old me - the Titan- suspected this was a trap. Trouble was, for them, someone had to say something.

“Don’t worry about it,” One tried.

“I am mildly concerned,” I admitted, “Someone could almost jump to the conclusion that… you guys were arming up to go start a fight with a bunch of followers of Lola inside her domain.”

“So we are just supposed to let them kill us?” someone in the back yelled.

“So we know it was a goblin who died?” I asked.

There was murmuring in the crowd.

A young female goblin stepped forward, “I’m pretty sure. Why would a bunch of humans and elves kill each other.”

I almost face palmed, “Everyone, those people over there are wackadoo. I spent the entire day stopping them from murdering each other. Seriously, Does anyone have concrete information as to what is going on?”

“A murder!” a bunch of the members in the crowd shouted.

“That’s on me. I walked into that. Not to be rude, but are we absolutely sure, a goblin didn’t kill one of them?” I amended.

Deafening silence followed my question.

Better seize the advantage, “How about this,” I called to the crowd. “Spine and I will go see what is happening, and you guys wait here. If something … bad is happening I call you.”

“You don’t got a phone!” someone accused.

“Spine does,” I said, point to my mugwump. Spine held up his phone.

“Oh that works,” the goblin who spoke up called, mollified. I really thought it would take more than that.

“You expect everyone to simply wait on and then believe you?” Grimset demanded.

“You wanna come?” I asked. He didn’t strike me as being as prone to chaos as hundreds pissed off well armed goblins. I could be wrong. He could turn out to be a very rowdy boy.

“I don’t want to go, but I insist you bring someone else along to bear witness,” Grimset.

I shrugged, “Hey Phil-”

“Fine, I will come,” Grimset snapped.

“I didn’t even want to be invited,” Toad pouted as he walked away.

The trek back to the Mandir was not fun. People talk about dread. It has a weight to it. This wouldn’t be the first time I saw a dead body. My mind drifted to the night we had a home invasion. Kate had gone to sleep. I was just sitting in the dark. I didn’t want to sleep. The bed… it was too big. I sound of the window breaking seemed so loud. I shook my head. I needed to focus.

Grimset just glared at me the whole time.

I ignored that and made small talk with Spine to stay in the now. “So, Spine, I noticed the pact is still going.”

“Yep,” Spine agreed.

“Do… do we need to do something official to return you to your family?” I asked carrying the conversation.

“Huh… I don’t know.” Spine thought for a moment. “Maybe you have to say,” He depended his voice to mimic me. “I return your son to you… peasant.”

“Why would I say peasant?” I asked. I was mostly stalling my brain from having to consider that I was heading toward a murder.

“It makes it more official,” Spine said confidently.

“You are both ridiculous,” Grimset sighed.

I could see the crowd. They had gathered around that eldritch horror of a barbecue pit. Spine Grimset and I approached slowly but methodically. The group ceased chattering. About forty people stood in a circle of a body laying flat in the snow. Another person stood over the body.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

The victim was a goblin. She looked young. Her left arm was broken above the elbow. Her right hand was smashed. The left side of her face had been crushed in. The eye popped out of the socket staring up at the sky. Shattered teeth fell out the conner of her mouth. Red blood splattered the front of her fatigues.

Standing over her was Howard. There was blood on his hands. He just stared at me as we approached. He almost looked resigned.

The crowd parted.

Spine upon seeing Howard shouted, “The fuck dude!”

Everyone started talking at the same time.

“Quiet!” I yelled over the crowd. After everyone shut up I pointed at Howard, “You talk. What happened.”

“...It just got out of hand,” Howard said. He stared at the body. “It was an accident.”

“Howard, tell me what happened.” I insisted.

“She didn’t like being called a booger. She pushed me. It escalated.” Howard thought for a moment. His expression hardened, “Just do what you are going to do.”

“I say we kill him,” Spine said, knives in hand.

“Wait,” I picked Spine up and set him down behind me. This stalled out his charge. The crowd made way as I stepped toward Howard. To the kid’s credit even as I loomed over him, he stood there without running. “Let me see your hands.”

“What?” Howard asked, blinking up at me.

I seize his arm. For the briefest moment he tried to fight me. Then he noticed I was way stronger than him and fighting me would probably result in his arm getting ripped off. Yeah there was blood on his hands, but… I scrubbed the blood. His knuckles were smooth and undamaged. His skin was unmarred. I checked the other and found it too unmarred. Even my hands looked battered for a few moments after I caved in a snow lion’s skull. I checked Howard more closely. The blood was only on his hands, mostly the palms. He didn’t have blood on his shirt, or his boots or even the knees of his pants.

Howard didn’t do this. He had touched the body, yes, but he hadn’t beaten this woman to death.

I didn’t let go of his arm, “Who did this?”

Howard tried to get loose. When that failed he met my gaze. I could see him thinking. He was considering lying, “I don’t have to tell you anything. Let me go.”

I almost used Intimate on Howard. Some part of me questioned the difference between doing that and beating answers out of him. It felt wrong so I didn’t do it. I let him go, When I spoke it was loud enough for the crowd to hear, “Don’t go anywhere.”

Howard, seeing that the crowd had grown and basically closed around us hesitated before saying, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

I called out to the crowd,” Did anyone see what happened?”

That was a lot of quiet. An old man with glasses thick as coke bottles forced his way through the crowd. Poking people with a cane to get them to move. “I didn’t see, but I heard what happened!” The name above his head read Chino Minoru.

Everyone was waiting on me, “Please tell me what you heard.”

Minoru leaned on his cane and took a breath before speaking. In the borderline gloom of the fire the man looked ancient, “The young folks were having their party or whatever. They were making a hell of a racket. Those four with the string instruments kept me up for hours. Then when they eventually shut up. Someone started playing a Harmonica. Not bad but too loud.”

“What does this have to do with a murder?” I pressed, concerned I was dealing with an old man yelling at clouds.

Minoru eyed me almost balefully, “I am getting to that. I am old and dying. Why are you the one in a rush?” He didn’t wait for my answer. “Somebody didn’t like the Harmonica music or the person playing it. I didn’t catch the exchange, but whatever was said didn’t calm things down. Next thing I know a young woman is screaming about ‘that being her fathers’, and ‘people being cocksuckers’. I think someone tossed the harmonica in the fire. Whatever happened, two people didn’t like didn’t like being called names. One said, ‘Let’s kill the green cunt,’ thats when the screaming started. Another said ‘hold her still so I can end this’. She went quiet after that. Howard other there said ‘stop’ a few times.”

I watched Howard, “Got anything you would like to add?”

“You are just going to believe what an old guy who admits he didn’t see anything says as proof?” Howard demanded. He was sweating bullets.

“I found the Harmonica,” Gissele called. She and her friends were standing near the fire. The ashes were spread out and a warped rectangle of metal was visible. Being freakishly tall has its advantages.

A musical instrument and some harsh words had cost a life. What the actual fuck was wrong with us? Found myself gazing down at the dead goblin. No name appeared above her head. I guess that only works for the living.

Treat this like everything else. I needed to confirm what happened, find who did it, and bring them to justice. I believed Minoru. Howard was the key to identifying culprits. I needed to get him to talk.

“Howard who did this?” I asked again. I softened my voice.

He flinched from my words, and didn’t meet my eyes.

“Step away from my disciple,” Madigan called. The crowd opened to reveal the bulldog of a man. I expected him to be angry, but a hateful grin twisted his face. He was thrilled this was happening. He strode purposely as he talked. “You are neither a follower of Lola, nor her guest anymore. You are the leader of a warband outside our gates. Attacking one of us would be an act of war?” he stopped just out of arm's reach.

“Someone murdered a goblin. She was a person. Her death can’t be ignored,” I said. I wasn’t expecting to convince Madigan but I held out hope that stating this truth to the crowd would convince others here.

“No one gives a damn about a mob. If it wanted to live it should have behaved in my city.” Madigan dismissed the entire thing. “Killing mobs is what we do.”

“She screamed like a person when she died,” Minoru interjected. He pushed his glasses back up his nose, “This was a murder.”

“You mind the green houses, I will mind what’s important,” Madigan all but shouted.

This wasn’t important, I turned my attention back to Howard, “Just tell me who did this Howard.”

Before he could answer, Madigan grabbed him and pulled him behind him roughly. “You don’t talk to him! Talk to me.”

“Oh so you know what happened?” I asked, forcing my voice calm.

“Damn right I do!” he growled

Perception check… Successful.

I could see it in his eyes. He had arranged this, ordered it. I also saw the moment he realized I knew. Madigan knew he messed up, but still played to the crowd. Sure, he wasn’t going to be able to goad me, but why not stoke the crowd. “A mob died after starting shit. Happens every day, and so long as I am around I won’t let outsiders meddle in our business.”

The crowd was growing. A lot of them were Madigan’s people. Violence was looking like it would become a phenomenally bad idea.

I sighed, “ Lola, I would like to ask your permission to do something.”

Time slowed. The roar of the wind faded. The flickering light of the fading fire locked in place.

“This constantly calling on me is not sustainable,” Lola chided. She looked like she was only half kidding.

“Do you know what is going on?” I asked. I probably should watch my step here.

“Yes,” Lola acknowledged. She didn’t look at the murdered woman, or at anyone in the crowd. She just watched me. She continued, “I won’t allow you to take one of my followers from the Mandir by force.”

“What if I didn’t use force?” I asked. I finally figured out my relationship with Lola. She wanted to be allies. Not friends, allies. I suspected she didn’t have friends. She had interests. No point appealing to emotion or justice. I needed to appeal to pragmatism.

Lola considered that. “What are you planning?” when I told her she scoffed, “Why would I let you do that?”

“Because you want that Spire and the Demon’s with it gone,” I explained. “This murder is a threat to my morale. I will do something about it. Besides I have already helped you get both an Epic and Heroic follower.”

“The Heroic follower is somehow your follower as well,” Lola pointed out.

“I am not sure how that happened,” I admitted. Rather than dwell on it I made my case, “My idea leaves the choice in your people’s hands.”

“Of course they will do it.” Lola scoffed. “That isn’t actually a choice.”

“You’re the one who can make the choice as to who gets it,” I pointed out.

Lola paused, “Fair enough.” she had made her decision. “Fine. Go ahead.”

She vanished and time surged back to its normal pace.

Madigan could tell I was a little out of place. He knew what that meant.

“So you’re saying this is your responsibility?” I baited him.

Madigan paused too long to appear decisive, “I do run this place.”

I felt the tension in the air.

People were ready for a fight.

You have activated Voice of the Titan.

“Everyone, I hold Travis Madigan Responsible for this murder. I declare him a criminal as War Lord for the Alliance of Green. Whoever brings him to the Goblin Camp will receive a pact from me, the Left Hand of the Titan. The benefits will last for a year. All I will ask is that you hold Madigan through the Trial and Sentencing."

This was horrifyingly painful. It was edging toward the Extreme Agony condition.

Voice of the Titan Deactivated.

Warning! Continued use of Voice of the Titan may cause Mana Bleed condition.

I almost stumbled. Using that power, it had a cost. Mana Bleed didn’t sound good. I’ll have to look into that later.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Madigan demanded. He almost grabbed the front of my coat.

“Don’t worry If you are a good leader no one will hand you off to me,” I said my, voice raspy. I coughed, “Besides if they do, all you have to do is point us to the killers. Unless they can point out something crazy like you ordering them to do this, you’d be off the hook.”

Madigan glared at me.

“Have a good night. Sleep well.” I turned to Howard. There was a lot I wanted to say, but just glared. Where to even start.

“What? I didn’t do anything!” he said, backing away.

I stooped and lifted the body. She was so small. “That’s your problem, Howard. At best you are a good man doing nothing. At best you’re useless.”

I turned and made my way to leave. Grimset and Spine fell into step with me.

“I expected you would be more direct,” Grimset said.

“If violence could fix this, I may have tried it,” I admitted. I had to clench my fist to stop it from shaking. All of this for a Harmonica. No, all of this because of one man’s pride.

Grimset nodded, “is that it?”

“No, make sure the rest of the goblins are back in camp. Also we need to find her…we need to find her loved ones, her friends and family. Do you know who she is?”

Grimset looked at her, “no.”

“My dad will,” Spine said. “She is a scout. That is probably why she felt comfortable being alone.”

The walk back to the camp was so much further than mere distance. If I was going to lead these people to battle, I needed to figure out what kind of leader I was going to be. First though I need to learn who she was.

She deserved that much. No, she deserved better.