World Boss: Break the Narrative

I told Rachel I would think about it. It was a bit strange being invited to join a cult. Doubly so since I was technically their god. I was already shopping ways to politely refuse that invitation in my mind. I don’t think ‘No,’ nor “Fuck off!” were the right answer.

Rachel did look deeply troubled that I immediately walked back over to Angelica and the others. I needed to figure out a better long term strategy for them. The Chimera Corps weren’t evil as far as I could tell, but they were dangerous. The Technacoast clearly had problems. Sure that Authority person I spoke to seemed reasonable, but that's just it. They seemed reasonable. They oversaw that place. They shaped it. The Technacoast was their baby, and it was ugly.

How can people tolerate that? I wondered this just as a Snow Lion tackled me from behind. Without thinking, I rolled back to my feet, seized the feral cat by the nape of its neck, hooked my thumb into its eye socket, and pulled its head off before throwing the corpse into my inventory. I paused. I could see people tolerating a lot to not be constantly attacked by monsters.

“She ask you out?” Spine teased.

“She kinda did,” I admitted. “She wants me to come with them to clear out another dungeon, and then we all go to the demon’s tower.”

“She invited us to work together?” Angelica looked dubious.

“You were not invited. She recommended that I ditch you and let you go to the tower alone,” I pulled the Mug of Titanic Brew out of my inventory. And took a swig.

Angelica watched me drink, “What did you say?”

“I told her I would think about it,” I took another pull. The Energized condition had a pleasant jitter to it. The condition was just on the edge of making me feel anxious without actually going over the line. So I felt wide away and ready without any nervous energy.

Angelica shrugged, “Maybe you should.”

I stopped cold.

“They need supervision.” Angelica continued, “Plus us hitting the Demon’s in two waves may be a good idea.”

“There is some merit in that idea,” Brand added. I hadn’t noticed him approach.

No. I am not going to panic about Angelica leaving… not in public.

She was still watching me. She knew I hadn’t taken her suggestion well. I wish I knew what she was thinking.

Not now.

“Hey, Brand. What have you been up to?” I asked. I had clearly been standing for too long.

Brand ignored the awkward moment I made, “I had planned to spend the morning with Ms. Baker, but someone, I am not naming names, started a whole to-do. Since my morning was… disrupted, I took the initiative and compiled all of Seren’s notes on the tower.”

Janie put her hand on Brand's shoulder, “That is so smart, and don’t be mean to Doug. he is having a hard time, and it’s not like he purposely messed with our… date… again.” Janie eyed me.

Eh, to hell with it, I probably owed Brand for something, “I can be possessive. I am working on it.”

Janie looked between Angelica, Brand, and me, “I went through a phase like that too. I am just gonna say trust and communication are key, Doug.”

“Noted,” I managed, “...Brand, what did you find?”

“A lot of things.” Brand didn’t look confident, “it would be best to gather leadership of both the Mandir and the goblins.”

“What time is it?” I asked.

Janie pulled out a pocket watch, “9 a.m. by my watch.”

“Let’s meet in my tent at noon. Janie, can you spread word to your people?” I nodded to myself. That was the right way forward.

“Yeah sure,” Janie put her watch away. “See ya in a bit.” she turned and bolted, it almost seemed like watching a deer gracefully bounding away. I doubt I looked like that when I was hauling ass. The differences in mental descriptions likely correlated to a deviation in outward presentation.

Angelica poked me.

“What?” I asked. “Was I spacing out?”

“No, but you were going to,” Angelica insisted. “You’re doing fine. Don’t climb in your head.”

I took another drink of Titanic Brew, “Thanks.”

“What were you doing out here?” Brand asked.

“We were interrogating Madigan, and his students, Chet and Waldo,” I explained.

“Didn’t think to invite the counter-intelligence officer along,” Brand chidded gently.

I face-palmed. Stupid! I joke more than a little about being dumb, but fuck me.

“It’s fine,” Brand spoke. He clearly saw what I was thinking. “I prefer to talk to prisoners with as few people as possible. I will speak with them. You should take a moment to prepare. You will have to juggle large personalities soon. “

“What do I need to know?” I said.

“The short version, this tower isn’t a normal Demon Spire. It is both old, powerful, and backed by the Three Devils?” Brand clearly forgot, I don’t know anything that happened in the last 280 years.

“Who?” I asked.

“Three Divine Scale demon players,” Angelica answered. “Malfea, Frausta, and Angor Crux. Are you sure it is all three? Because Angor Crux is dead. The God of Hope killed him.”

“Don’t demons simply go to hell when they die?” Brand asked.

I could see Angelica and Celeste having a quick back and forth before Angelica spoke, “Normally yes, but the God of Hope… the details are complicated. Angor Crux should be dead and gone.”

Brand Handed Angelica the diary, “I added notes. Seren observed all three of their sigils burning with power. If not Angor Crux someone else has his mantle.”

Everyone thought about that. “What was his deal?” I asked.

“Suffering and despair.” Angelica supplied, “He and the God of Hope had a whole history.”

“Is there anything else you need?” I asked Brand. He was right, this needed more than the four of us.

“No, thank you,” Brand said with a smile, “I’ll meet you in a few hours.” He left to actually question Madigan.

“I’ll grab Brunhilda,” Angelica pocketed the journal, “Meet you at the tent?”

“...Yeah,” I turned and started walking. My mind drifted back to her saying I should go with Rachel. She had a point. Letting them run free was a bad idea, but that meant leaving her to fight the demons alone. She said before she wasn’t sure she wanted me or anyone along for that. Walking through the crowd of goblins, recontextualized her words. These people were so fragile, it was madness to drag them into a fight of gods and demons.

I was going to get someone killed.

I saw Hellen, Toad, Philip, and Grimset standing before the Command tent. I looked past them and saw something that stopped me in my tracks. Three goblins stood next to the Coffin of Ice I made for Tazia. I could see the Name over his head, Ticky Shiv.

“You okay Doug?’ Spine asked quietly.

“Do you know anything about Ticky?” I felt the nail on my left pinky.

“Sorry no,” Spine watched Ticky as he just stared at the rectangle of ice. “I think he is a couple years younger than me.”

Philip was heading toward us. Grimset and Toad flanking him.

I shelved my bullshit. If there is one skill every parent who gives a shit develops, and single parents master, it is taking everything going on inside you, and ignoring it for an hour or two minimum. This allows you to focus on the kid and do what needs to be done. It may not be the healthiest thing, but we can all do it.

Philip called to me, “Left Hand, if you have a moment- “

“Not right now,” I walked past them to Ticky, Nanny Shiv, and an even older goblin woman named Nanny Shank.

Ticky was small, even for a goblin. He was thin too. His face looked gaunt as he stared up at me. His large eyes looked older than he was. Kids don’t age with years. They age with trauma. Ticky was ahead of the curve.

“Hello Ticky. I am sorry for your loss. My name is Doug.” I started slowly.

“I know,” Ticky cut in. “Why Is Tazia separate from the others? Didn’t she die in the dungeon.”

Oh god.

I fucked up bad. I should have made arrangements. Someone Ticky knew should be telling him this. Not a giant asshole doing it in public. Why is Tazia separate from the others? Angelica feared dungeons. What were the odds the goblins manage to clear one with zero casualties.

First thing first, make certain, “Has no one told you how your sister passed?”

“No. No one told me.” Ticky was speaking in a distant numb way. “Nanny Shiv and Nanny Shank said you would be able to tell me what happened.”

I nodded. It was my responsibility.

With a minor effort of will, and Construction check and Ticky, Spine, the Nannies Shiv and Shank and I stood in a small mausoleum of ice. I made the walls opaque, and the ceiling clear. I also made the entrance next to Ticky. I didn’t want him to feel caged.

Before panicking Ticky checked with Nanny Shiv and Spine. Nanny Shiv shrugged, and Spine gave him a thumbs up. “Why are we talking? Ticky demanded.

“I am sorry to say, Tazia wasn’t a casualty of the dungeon. She was murdered.” I flinched internally. There had to be a better way to say that.

He blinked, “How?’ The kid took buildings manifesting in stride.

That was an odd way to ask. “Two of the humans at the Mandir of the War Goddess killed her.”

“Well yeah, others kill us,” Ticky said.

“I am trying to change that. Not long ago you couldn’t speak to each other. Some of them still think goblins are mobs,” I explained.

“The others think we are mobs… Oh.” Ticky put his hand on the casket. “So this was a… bad… misunderstanding?

I wish I could have lied to him. I could see the idea giving him the faintest hint of peace. He didn’t believe in pointlessly malicious action. Well not yet anyways.

I almost stepped closer, but I didn’t loom over him, “No. Two men on the order of a third, killed your sister. They found her at a celebration in the Mandir’s domain alone. They took her harmonica and threw it in a fire.”

“Dad’s Harmonica?” Ticky managed. I saw a few tears hit the surface of the casket. Sometimes grief is like a weight that just keeps piling on top of you. A lot of the time the weight just fades and can move again. Other times it hits like a knife. One moment you’re fine. The next, you can barely breathe and your insides are burning.

Spine rested a hand on his shoulder, and handed Ticky a handkerchief. He did it quick, and stepped away almost as fast, “he looked at Nanny Shiv, “I see you are wearing Snow Lion fur.”

“Yeah, between the Armor rating and the cold resistance it is pretty hard to pass up.” Nanny Shiv admitted. She watched Ticky out of the Corner of her eye. “Doug, did right by us once. I am sure he will do it again.”

“I’ll try,” I said somewhat lamely. If you ever want to feel powerless, be in a room with a grieving child.

“Long long ago, a little green chad said ‘there is no try. Do or do not.” Nanny Shiv eyed me not quite glaring.

“Why?” Ticky asked.

“It was just a movie. It doesn’t have a why?” Nanny Shiv said using the feigned misunderstanding to give Ticky a quick side hug.

Ticky to a breath and pulled free, “No, Why did someone order people to kill Tazia?”

Everyone turned to me.

Because I spited a monster, “There are a lot of factors. The short summary is because Madigan doesn't believe goblins are people. He doesn’t want people and goblins to stop fighting.”

“Makes sense they’re winning,” Nanny Shank muttered.

Ticky ignored that, “But why are you telling me?”

“Later today we will have a trial for the three men. If they are found guilty you as Tazia next of kin will be asked to provide a sentence for them.” I felt stupid saying it. That’s too much to put on a kid.

Ticky thought for a moment, “What even is a fair punishment?”

“Kill ‘em,” Nanny Shiv and Nanny Shank said together.

“I don’t… Is it dumb… to think that is what Tazia would have wanted,” Ticky asked aloud.

“No,” I told him. I wasn’t going to tell him what to do in this regard.

“What should I do then?” Ticky said.

“You don’t have to attend the trial,” I started.

“I want to,” Ticky said quickly.

I nodded, “Then listen with an open mind and think based of what you here, what would be justice.” that was too abstract. I knew it as soon as I said it.

“What does that even mean?” he scoffed.

“Most people agree there are three types of justice.” I continued. “Distributive, Restorative and Retributive.”

“Keep talking big man,” Ticky said.

“Distributive Justice is like the name implies. It is an ethos of distributing resources in fair and equitable ways to address the uneven nature of existence. Things like, food for the poor, assistance for the disabled, leniency to children… it is proactive and not relevant to this discussion.” I stopped talking.

Everyone looked at me with that ‘then why did you bring it up?’ look on their faces.

I continued, “Restorative justice is about focusing on helping the victims of crime. Like the name implies it seeks to restore the injured party-”

“Can you do that!” Ticky spoke up. “Can you bring Tazia back?”

Seeing hope in his eyes cut me to the core. “No. I am sorry, I can’t.”

“It’s okay…” the young man was quiet for a long time. “Is it wrong that I just want to hurt them? The people that… that did this to Tazia.” Tears had filled his eyes again.

I gently rested my hand on his shoulder, “No.” I wasn’t going to tell him how to feel. Not there. Not then.

Retributive justice it is.