Chương 298: Day Two Hundred And Ninety-Six

Dear Diary, I know I'm supposed to be working on being a better person, but how am I supposed to do that when somebody tells me I can literally amplify my own power with Memes, and then the first big power boost I get is my own fuckin' theme music? The fact that those only kicked in while I was executing some poor big Jotnar bastard is not helping my whole 'be a better person and don't become an arrogant mass murdering bitch like most of my peers' thing. Seriously, I think my biggest challenge here and now?

Is going to wind up Not Becoming A Hypocritical Bitch. Seriously, think about it. Right now I've met, uh, four Gods in a confrontational way. One of them blindsided me, and limped away taking an L. Another is still maimed and mad about it. The remaining two are Just Fuckin' Dead. All concerns about arrogance, hubris, and getting sloppy in a bad way aside, if I just go around hunting Gods for sport, because I'm as much bigger than them as they are than everybody else?

How am I fundamentally doing anything but adding another layer to the shit cake? Seriously, from what Loki tells me, he was dying in his cave when he picked me up, so there's definitely a 'shit rolls downhill' mechanic in effect, and one thing I do not want to do is just climb to the top of the hill and squat there shitting. Such elegant imagery. Oh, fuck off, Boss. You know I'm right. Did I say you were wrong, daughter? I simply complimented your descriptive skills. Oh. Okay, yeah. Thanks, Boss. You're the best.

I know. At any rate, I want to fix shit, not just add another layer atop the pyramid of shit, since it's always the poor fuckers at the bottom who wind up both bearing the weight of the assholes above them, not to mention living in their shit. So while I get that sometimes I need to bring the pain to some wannabe Deific dictator who won't back down? I need to learn to apply less than final consequences on the bitches who do back down. Hell, if some of them learn? Actually turn over a new leaf?

I might even need to rescind consequences. Like, I dunno, if Artemis gets her shit together and starts actually helping out instead of being the world's second largest bitch? Starts using her powers for good? It might behoove me to give her some functional digits and something that lets her look a little less like a Fallout ghoul. At any rate, the moment I made my announcement? Some weird shit went down.

The lizard bois all turned to one another, and by some wordless agreement all but one of them proceeded to pair up and do some impromptu body modification. The one exception wound up doing some freaky shit with the pair who still had to cling to their halberds with itty bitty baby hands. Then they formed up into a wedge pointed at me, with the one unharmed dude standing front and center while the rest bled a little, then stopped bleeding. Meanwhile?

The ring of Thralls all kinda looked at the others around them, then at the lizard bois and the Warriors, then sighed and started stripping off their helmets, armored kilts and, after that, loincloths. The least weird, maybe worst part? The Warriors immediately went berserk. Not, like, 'coming at me to argue their impending partial emasculation', but attacking each other.

Three of them immediately took one look at each other, then leapt on one big asshole, stabbing the fuck out of him, all three continuing to stab long after I would have considered him 'thoroughly Neutralized'. The rest paired off in what looked to be an impromptu 'who gets to keep both testicles' tournament. Fuck it.

The Thralls just stood there waiting for violation, and the lizard bois looked like they'd given less fucks about self-violation than I would, because they apparently also belonged to the 'regenerating horror' club. I left the Warriors to their mutual hate-off and stepped over to Olaf's remains. After a moment stepping around examining, I got a little annoyed, pulled Vulcan out, and pointed at the remains of Olaf's general ass region.

"What the fuck, son? You knew I was saving those for Mom!" The smug bastard just smugged at me, completely unrepentant for having the final impact point and ground zero of his bolt's energy release being Olaf's coccyx. I mean, I don't give a shit about a dead dude's tailbone, but the explosion had blown most of the meat off of his ass, not to mention turning his pelvis into shattered modern art. Most pertinently? It had cracked the tops of his femurs.

Not, like, snapped the balls off or anything, but if I'd had plans to turn them into giant clubs or something, they definitely didn't have the structural integrity for that now. Pissed off, I slung him over my shoulder, stepped to Olaf's knee region and used his shins to test out a couple features of my new swordstaff. First, I twisted it at the center, and it split into two sticks with sword blades sticking out of them.

Then I channeled Mana into them, and the blades first glowed, then extended Mana Blades around them. I kept pouring in the Mana, and the more I poured in, the bigger they got, until I used one swipe from each to cut through the top of Olaf's calves. That done, I stepped atop Olaf's lower back, amplified my voice, and hollered out, "Thralls! Rally on me!" They all let out a collective sigh, but didn't hesitate before jogging over to me.

Okay, some of them even sprinted, I guess trying to make a good impression or something. Kinda weird, having a couple hundred dudes running at me with cocks out and not feeling some kinda way about it, but it's not like they were threats or anything. Shit, the whole reason they were swinging free had to do with them resignedly accepting the loss of a testicle as part of the cost of staying alive.

When they all were within normal 'parade ground' speaking range, I said, "okay, We're gonna have a few discussions when I get back, but for now? Nobody damages my property and gets away with it. You hear that?" I shouted in the direction of the lizard bois and the still brawling Warriors. The Warriors mostly ignored me, with the exception of two of the three who had taken my announcement as an excuse to eliminate one of their own.

The third was nowhere to be seen; I have no idea if he'd joined the general melee, gone back to the longhouse, or something else I hadn't thought of. The lizard bois, on the other hand, all thumped their halberds on the ground once. One thump for yes, two thumps for no. Good to know. That confirmed, I looked down at the Thralls. A few had fallen to their knees and were praying at me.

I'd have to deal with that later, but right now I called out, "okay, I'm guessing you guys either don't know where Jarl Swanson lives, or you're pretty sure one of the guys down there is gonna get tapped to lead me. So I got a different job for you. I'm gonna be gone at least a week. By the time I get back? I want the Green cleaned up. Burn Karlson; you can leave his armor and weapons on him, but no loose coins or jewelry or other valuables. Those go back to the longhouse for me to go over when I get back."

I nodded down at Olaf.

"I expect this guy's femurs," I pointed at the appropriate bones where they stuck out the tops of his thighs thanks to my explosion addicted son.

"To be entirely cleaned up, preserved as best you can, and ready for shipment by the time I get back. You can burn the rest of him. Also, make sure that any really torn up patches have new grass or flowers or some shit planted. Any questions?" I got a general round of head shaking, but a couple guys raised hands. I pointed at the nearest. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Who is in charge, Ma'am?" The other hands went down. I thought about it a second, then said, "you twelve who lost toes yesterday, front and center!" When they'd all gathered, I dropped a Heal into each of them. Probably not enough to, like, regrow Mana Bladed pinkie toes, but enough that they wouldn't be limping or in pain or anything.

Frankly, all twelve looked a thousand percent better at that point, like they'd been wandering around with lots of minor injuries and were fully unhurt for the first time in forever.

"Okay, you guys. There's a shit ton of work to do. You twelve are my foremen. Decide how you want to split the work up, work out amongst yourselves who gets to be in charge of the whole shebang." When they all looked at one another, a couple flexing, I said, "by talking it out. No damaging my property. Also, whoever is in charge is also responsible. Shit ain't done, or it's done wrong, they're the ones who are gonna get the most shit for it. So, y'know, don't take the job just to show you've got the biggest dick."

I grinned, raking my gaze across the crowd.

"Not like that's really a hidden fact any more anyway." That got me a round of laughter, the loudest coming from one of the twelve guys, who hung halfway to his own knee. Definite porn star material there.

"Okay, you guys, I'll let you get to it." Then I stepped over to the lizard bois.

"Okay, guys. I'm guessing you decided," I nodded to the one standing in front. He wasn't the biggest or anything, now that I looked. He did have some equipment strapped to his back, and a few bits of subtle jewelry in some of his scales, though.

"He's gonna be the one to guide me to Swanson?" They all hammered their halberd butts into the ground once.

"Cool. Organized. Efficient. Gotta be honest, not exactly my thing? But my wife is totally into that shit, and I can respect it. Can you guys speak?" One big thump.

"Lemme guess, you don't speak the local language all that well, what with the different jaws and vocal cords and shit?" That actually got me a bit of a reaction from most of them. Nothing huge, just some of them tensing a little, the guy in front cocking his head so slightly I wouldn't have realized if I hadn't been watching for it. Then they thumped their halberd butts down again, once.

"Hey, no worries. I'm really close with a Maenad, they have kinda the same issue. If you gotta convey something that's not an easy 'yes / no', just, uh, three taps, okay? We'll work something out." They all stood up a little straighter. One thump.

"Okay. I'm gonna guess that you guys normally are the Jarl's bodyguard, and wind up with all the shit duties that Thralls can't do, right?" One thump.

"Okay. Can't say that won't change at all, because you seem sorta trustworthy, at least the sorts who will do their best to get the damn job done. So, while I'm away? Nobody hurts anybody else on my lands and gets away with it. Somebody does, or tries, you do what you gotta to stop them, then put them in chains or stocks or whatever until I get back." I thought about it for a second, then said, "try not to kill anybody.

I'd hate to have some poor bastard dead because of stupid before I could try and unstupid them, okay?" One thump.

"Other than that, it's business as usual, just let folks do what they do to, y'know, grow food and keep themselves alive and doing what they do. Got it?" One thump. I nodded, then called out, "okay, you," I pointed to the guy in front.

"You and you," I pointed at the guys with the still-stubby arms, "are coming with me to Jarl Swanson's place." The two shorthanded guys had more than a little surprise leak into their body language, but they just thumped once.

"You need to pick up any gear?" Two thumps.

"Okay then. I'm a pretty good distance runner, you guys set the pace, I'll tell you if it's a problem. Let's go!" Guy in the lead took off, jogging toward the opposite end of the Green. I fell in behind him and heard the two stubby guys fall in behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder at the timbre of the Warrior fight changing, and had to stifle my laughter as the remaining thirteen lizard bois went to town with the flats and butts of their halberds, making short work of the few remaining Warriors who had ignored the whole conversation in favor of getting their fight on. Gotta give the lizard bois credit; they've got some stamina in them.

With the long legs, I had to run while they jogged, and they never moved much above a jog, but they kept that jog up until well after dark. Once night set in, they slowed down, and I got the impression that they weren't just watching the terrain more.

"You guys need a break?" They thumped their halberds twice against their arms. I smiled and asked, "no worries if night slows you down, but do you want a break? I'd rather we bed down and have you guys fresh in the morning, if it matters." The guy in front slowed to a stop, and in a couple minutes the three had stamped out the simplest of bivouacs in the tall grass to the side of what I now recognized as an overgrown dirt road.

All they really did was stamp down enough grass to curl up on the ground, each in contact with the two others. They seemed a little surprised when I curled up in the middle of them, but not, like, in a bad way. They also were very respectful, scooching around until their hands, legs, and tails were pointed elsewhere than at me. Hey Kitten? Yes, Goof? I'm gonna bivouac with these lizard bois for the night. Doing a little morale building, maybe some loyalty work.

Miss you, but I wanna keep rolling these Jarl motherfuckers up. We miss you too, Goof. Would you like us to come to you? Nah. Don't know how they'd take it. Maybe tomorrow? I look forward to it. Love to Marie and Menace. Back at you, Goof. Today we woke up at the ass crack of dawn, and if the lizard bois moved more than a little sluggishly, I wasn't gonna be the one to tell them they had to lie back down. We walked, then jogged, through the day.

I could have made a better pace on my own if I'd know where the fuck we were going. I also didn't want to use my Scry then Translocate combo too often, especially when I might not actually be killing or subjugating any particular motherfucker who saw it. Some time after lunch we rolled up on another little village.

This one really deserved the name a little more, with two concentric horseshoes of buildings extending out from the central longhouse, not to mention a much bigger Green, and some tilled fields we passed by as we approached. A dude with his own little batch of lizard bois stood at the village end of the Green with a few Warriors around him. The moment we hit the green, my guide slipped back to my six o-clock, the two stubby bois sliding to eight and four.

When we'd jogged up to a distance where I could converse without shouting, I slowed to a stop. Before I could say anything, the dude stepped forward one measured pace.

"Jarl Diaz, I presume?" At my nod, he said, "you have a letter for me, I presume?" More than a little surprised, as much by his politeness as by him knowing who I was and why I'd come, I stepped forward and handed him a letter I pulled out of The Dress' skirt side boot.

"Good to meet you, Jarl Swanson." He took the letter, broke the seal, and while read it muttered, "I wish I could say the same." Right about then I recognized one of the Warriors in his little group. Not by his looks, or even by his outfit, which was subtly different to his buddies', but by the circles under his eyes, presumably from running here overnight. Before I could do more than glare at him, Swanson folded the letter and looked back at me.

"It seems Harald was fundamentally correct. I officially do not recognize your right to challenge me. If you wish to do so anyhow, I do recognize your right to Trial by Combat. I will have a Champion prepared for Trial by Combat tomorrow no later than two hours before midday. If you do not arrive at my Green by midday, I will assume you've come to your senses. If you defeat my Champion, I will meet you on the Green after the midday meal. Can I trust you to abide by this?"

I thought about it for a moment, then held out my hand.

"Sounds fair to me." He reached out, grasped my forearm with his, and when I mirrored his gesture, pumped my arm once.

"Would you join me for supper?" Boss? Should I? He's invited you in. If he harms you, it's a social gaffe, if nothing else. He'll definitely lose face in front of his men. So, guest rights are a thing here? He seems to follow them. Okay. Thanks Boss. You're the best. I know I thought about how to word my reply for a second. I didn't want to screw up the diplomacy, but in the end? I'm still me.

"Sure, Jarl Swanson. Show me your best TV dinner, big guy."