Tales of Midbar: Secret Priest

I materialized just round the corner from the armory, feeling hot inside because I’d dropped a few meters.

“Please!” said Sanmino’s voice.

“So you just expect us to give you our weapons and then you’ll kill us anyway,” said Holmiath’s voice.

“You could convert,” said a man with a local accent.

“We got other use of women,” said another man with an Aramatoran accent.

“We’ve got the weapons,” said Holmiath. “If you leave the girl, you’ll be able to run away before we get her out of our line of fire.”

“You give us weapons or we kill girl,” said the one with the Aramatoran accent.

“Please,” screamed Sanmino, “do what they say!”

“If you kill her, you won’t have a bargaining chip,” said Holmiath.

I decided it was time for me to intervene. I stumbled round the corner with my hands out.

“Clindar!” screamed Sanmino. Then she screamed, “He’s a mage!” in Quippa.

“You can’t kill me,” I said, “because I’m the only person who knows where Nuhar Zorg is.”

I could now see four young men, dressed in typical Paxian clothing but three of them were quippas and one a faharni, were standing outside the armory door. The faharni had his arm around Sanmino and was holding a metal stick with the other. I had my magic detector glasses on so I could see the stick was a magic weapon and the man holding it had a suicide bomb spell on him. The others also had weapon artifacts and suicide bomb spells. The door to the armory was ajar and I could see somebody, I think Holmiath, struggling to hold it closed.

“Do Nuhar Zorg know where that is?” asked one of the quippas in an Aramatoran accent.

I continued to walk slowly and as steadily as possible towards the group. It was clear they were now confused and getting rather nervous, talking quietly to each other in Quippa.

“Funny things time warps,” I said. “I don’t think anybody understands them.”

“Why you got blood?” asked one who hadn’t spoken before. He also had an Aramatoran accent but was speaking bad Faharni.

“It transports oxygen and other chemicals round my body,” I said, knowing this wasn’t what he’d meant.

“Why do you have blood all over you?” asked the faharni.

“I had a disagreement with your mage.”

“Do glildac girl know where Nuhar Zorg is?” asked then more talkative quippa.

“She really hates Nuharas,” I said, “boasting about how you wiped out somebody’s race tends to urinate them and I’m not sure she understands time warps anyway.”

“Do you?” asked the faharni.

“Put it this way, kill me and Nuhar Zorg won’t be leading your conquest of Midbar. That means you can’t stop me from doing this.”

I cast paralysis spells on the nearest three Nuharas.

Sanmino screamed, “Everybody I love dies!” and ran past me, probably suspecting the suicide bomb spells.

The remaining Nuhara raised his, well it was technically an artifact but it was basically just a bit of wood with a protective spell on it. I hit him with a paralysis spell as well.

“I’ve put paralysis spells on them,” I said, “that shouldn’t set off the suicide bomb spells.” I stepped over the Nuharas as they fell and could now see that what looked like a wall panel was open with some more men in the shadows behind it. I started hitting them with paralysis spells but then I heard screams and saw Nilha flying behind them and flames erupting. I pushed the door to the catacombs closed.

“How did they know how to find us and know about our weapons?” asked Holmiath, stepping out of the vault, clearly shaken.

“Perhaps they tortured it out of Sanmino,” said Reldrin.

“We hath blocked the catacomb tunnels leading here,” said Dwendra, coming round the corner. “I suggesteth thee continueth with distributing the weapons. People art coming here for to helpeth us.”

We carried the paralyzed Nuharas out the front gate. The paralysis spell allowed them to breath just enough to stay alive, but not really enough to prevent brain damage and they’d die and spontaneously combust, because of the suicide bomb spells going off with inadequate oxygen, in an hour or so. We were getting them out first.

“Clindar!” said Flaannin approaching us. “Now I know you’re new to this but do you really think decapitating Nuharglend and putting date rape spells on me and Aglistin was the right thing to do?”

“Yes, I do.”

“That’s not really the Winemaker way is it?”

“Yoho’s avatar saideth we shouldst getteth weapons and defendeth ourselves,” said Dwendra.

Flaannin looked at her with puzzlement. She’d only met Dwendra once or twice and clearly wasn’t comfortable around her. “You’re getting very close to starting a war. I strongly suggest you reconsider your actions and I don’t think this helps.” She pointed at the pile of paralyzed Nuharas.

“I’m not starting a war,” I said. “The war started a long time ago, I’m just fighting back so the Nuharas don’t win.”

“Hath thou's way beeneth working?” asked Dwendra.

“The Trulist priests and myself agreed to tell the Nuharas that Nuharglend said something about the Prophesied Ruination and ran into the catacombs,” said Flaannin, ignoring Dwendra, “he won’t be the first person to disappear into there and never be seen again. I suggest you tell the same story. Hopefully we can smooth things over and negotiate something reasonable.”

“Yes that would be a good idea,” I agreed.

I wasn’t sure how long my plan would take and stalling Nuhara revenge for a few days could help. I knew that Flaannin’s belief that some sort of peace could be achieved with the Nuharas was a fantasy and a war was unavoidable. A war I intended to win!