Arthur Daigle's Blog - Posts Tagged "werewolf"

“Boss!”

It was late at night, and a warm breeze blew across the beach as Harry Silt turned to face the goblin running toward him. The red haired youth had changed in the last few months. He still had a slender build and needed glasses, but these days he wore alligator skin boots and bracers, black pants and a gray shirt. His staff now included vampire fangs worked into the wood, not just a trophy of his victories but an important magical component strengthening his spells. And he had a hat. The goblins had insisted he needed one, and they’d even collected materials to make the black fedora with more vampire fangs in the band.

More importantly, he’d changed as a man. The desire for advancement in the Archivists, and he was honest enough to admit his selfishness, was gone, replaced with a love and devotion to his followers. Harry had grown up in a safe community, attended safe schools and been totally safe working as a minor Archivist.
He’d never noticed the suffering, the injustices, the hardships that so many others endured.
He’d never experienced them personally or seen anyone else do so. He’d seen such pain and wrongdoings in his time among the goblins. So many good people working themselves to exhaustion for the right to live another day, praying that monsters and villains wouldn’t notice them.

He’d felt such shame while recovering from his first battle with a vampire. So many people suffering while he’d only thought about himself. And in that dark time he’d come to accept the role the goblins had asked him to take. Harry Silt the Archivist, the petty man, was gone. Harry Silt the Evil Overlord took his place, and the world was better for it.

The goblin ran over to Harry and gave him a salute so vigorous the goblin hit himself in the head and fell over backwards. Harry helped the goblin up and brushed sand off him. “Boss, we’ve got a message for you by the beach. A magic message.”

“How do you know it’s magic?”

“Water bubbled up and turned into a mirror showing a dorky kid.” The goblin pointed to the beach, where goblins gathered around the flat plane of water showing a human wizard even younger than Harry. The goblin added, “He said he wants to talk to the Evil Overlord of Wandering Village, which is you, so I figured you should know about it.”

Harry frowned. He’d been expecting trouble ever since he’d accepted his new role. Were the Archivists trying to get him to come back into the fold? Possible, but they hadn’t sent anyone to look for him in months. The other wizard wasn’t dressed as an Archivist, either. Who wanted him?

“Call Vivian and Igor,” Harry ordered the goblin. The goblin saluted again, this time without knocking himself over. Harry headed through the Wandering Village toward the watery mirror on the beach. Whatever this was, he wanted as much help as he could get to deal with it.

The Wandering Village had grown considerably under his rule. The population had doubled as goblins gathered more of their kind to carry out his orders. He’d also picked up fifty human smugglers and their three barges. Those barges were moored nearby in a shallow bay, and the Wandering Village now had dozens of crude tents. Lastly an Igor had volunteered his services, and Vivian had come.

Vivian.

“My alpha!” Harry saw Vivian running across the beach. Her black satin dress fluttered as he caught up with him and wrapped an arm around his waist. She was incredible, young, strong, healthy, vivacious, and if you scratched below the surface so frightened. Her pack of werewolves had suffered brutal infighting that had forced the raven haired beauty to flee for her life. Goblins had found her alone and scared, and brought her to Harry in an act he could only call miraculous. “We are in danger?”

“Possibly. We’ll see what’s happening.”

The two walked together to the mirror. Goblins, men and giant tortoises followed the pair until they stopped at the mirror. Harry adjusted his glasses as he studied the young man with gray clothes and bad acne in the watery mirror.

“I understand you wish to talk with me,” Harry began.

“Hi, I’m Kadid Lan,” the other wizard replied. His voice sounded warped as it came through the water. “Uh, listen, I know we don’t know each other, but I need a huge favor and you’re the only man who can do it.”

“He honors you, my alpha,” Vivian said.

“We can’t pay you, but if you help it could save lots of people,” Kadid continued. “There are these papers plastered all over the place telling embarrassing facts or just outright lies.”

“I’m familiar with them,” Harry said drily.

“I recognize that voice!” An older man wearing blue and white robes pushed Kadid aside and stood in front of the mirror. “Oh for the love of all that’s holy! Are all the junior Archivists going rogue?”

Harry’s jaw dropped, but he quickly recovered from the shock. “Master Archibald Scrace. I’m curious what it took to get you out of your office.”

“That’s all you have to say? You were sent to find the Dawn Lantern, and now I find you leading a band of miscreants!”

“Hey, we’re miscreants!” a goblin shouted. “Last spring we were just deadbeats and losers!”

“Hurray!” the goblins cheered.

“It’s hard to explain,” Harry said. “Your friend made it sound like you needed an evil overlord, not the man I used to be. What’s this have to do with those papers, and what did you mean by Archivists going rogue?”

“Those papers were written by Archivists who left our order,” Archibald said. “They were infiltrated by a man named Gron who used them to publish damaging lies. This villain is currently near you but will surely leave at the first opportunity. No one else is close enough to stop him. I am asking you to catch Gron before more harm is done.”

“How dangerous is this man?” Harry asked.

“He’s a skilled warrior and clever. He also has several former Archivists with him, one of whom is a wizard of middling abilities. Don’t underestimate him, and don’t believe his lies. Can we count on you?”

Harry’s followers watched him with eager eyes, some even drooling at the prospect of action. He said, “Those idiots nearly cost me my life.”

“You’re not alone in that,” Kadid said.

“I need a better idea where to look,” Harry said.

Archibald nudged Kadid back and said, “Gron was detected by a magic mirror twenty minutes ago in a town called Hogshead. That’s as close as we were able to get.”

A smuggler said, “Hogshead is thirty miles away. We’d need six hours to reach it by boat and a day on foot.”

“Or thirty minutes by air,” Harry replied.

“Your magic clouds aren’t that big,” the smuggler cautioned. “You won’t be able to take many of us, and this could be dangerous.”

“I’m dangerous, too,” Vivian retorted.

“No promises, but we’ll try,” Harry told Archibald. “Where do we deliver them if we catch them?”

“Sunset City in Oceanview Kingdom,” Archibald replied as the watery mirror dissolved back into the ocean. Before it was completely gone, Archibald added, “I wish you luck. Know that many depend on your success.”

“Time to go hunting,” Harry said. Vivian squealed in delight and the goblins cheered. He waved for them to quiet down and called out, “Igor!”

“Here, sir.” Harry frowned as Igor ran over. He was a trustworthy man and had done much for Harry, but he was, well, odd. Tall, handsome, blonde hair, perfect teeth, he didn’t look like an Igor. The perfectly tailored suit also defied expectations.

“I know I keep asking, but you’re sure you’re an Igor?” Harry asked. “Not a Chad? Or a Chet?”

Igor was momentarily crestfallen. “I know, I was born tragically normal. But deep down I am a small, misshapen man ready to say the wrong thing at the worst time.”

Harry shook his head. “Forget I asked. You and the Wise Old Fraud are in charge until I return. I need our next batch of heal fast potions brewed and ready to go by morning and check the herb gardens. I need a steady supply of ingredients for more potions.”

Those potions were Harry’s biggest advantage. He and Igor had built a small, crude distillery for making healing potions. He’d won a lot of fights by being able to heal his followers and made lots of friends by giving potions to those in need. Selling the few he didn’t use or give away kept his group in the black.

The Wise Old Fraud, a green goblin wearing long robes, waved his staff and said, “You can probably count on us. There may be mistakes, omissions and the occasional explosion.”

“That’s expected.” Harry waved his own staff as he cast a spell to create a magic cloud in front of him. Harry hadn’t learned any new spells since becoming an evil overlord, but he’d gotten far better at using the spells he already knew. He’d practiced more than he once had, and he’d made simple magic items like his hat and improved his staff to bolster his power. It was enough to make his magic cloud thirty feet across and strong enough to carry tons.

“Everybody on board!” a goblin screamed. Dozens of them piled on along with five smugglers who’d proven themselves in battle. Harry stepped on next with Vivian. She stayed close to him as the cloud rose into the air and shot across the sky. The smugglers kept well away from the edges of the cloud, no doubt worried about falling. The goblins weren’t worried at all and howled in delight as they sailed over trees and rooftops.

“Top of the world, ma!” a goblin yelled.

“I’m flying, Jack!” shouted a second. That was goblins in a nutshell. But they weren’t the only ones talking. Vivian clung tightly to Harry and whispered to herself.

“My alpha won’t cast me out. My alpha won’t abandon me. My alpha won’t cast me out.”

This had happened before. Werewolves were pack animals and terrified of being alone. Vivian had been quivering when he’d first seen her and needed weeks to open up to him. When she was stressed, even for good reasons like hunting, she’d repeat those words so softly she thought no one would hear her. Harry heard. He wondered what he could do to heal those wounds.

Mile after mile flew by as they sailed across the sky. Even the light of a full moon offered little illumination, but Harry had no trouble seeing the cluster of lights from Hogshead. Human towns always kept lanterns and torches lit in case of an attack by bandits, pirates and monsters. Their king should be protecting them, but his forces were too busy threatening neighboring kings. Harry and his small army had saved Hogshead once before and nearby villages many times, which ironically made the king hate and fear Harry. Apparently gratitude was not an option.

“Hogshead dead ahead!” a goblin yelled.

“Indoor voices, everyone,” Harry told his followers. “I don’t want them to know we’re coming.”

“Shh,” one goblin told another. Goblins shushed each other, making nearly as much noise as when they’d been yelling. Harry lowered the cloud to street level at the edge of the city and dissolved it to release his followers. Harry cast a locating spell, but the glowing arrow spun wildly. That wasn’t surprising. Master Archibald was a much more powerful wizard than Harry. If his magic hadn’t succeeded, Harry’s wouldn’t, either. But it was worth trying, and he still had an advantage Archibald didn’t.

“It’s a big city to find a handful of men,” a smuggler said.

“I’ve got a plan,” Harry told him. “These idiots leave their papers whenever they go. Spread out and find me one.”

Goblins and smugglers hurried across cobblestone streets and between wood houses. Most of Hogshead’s people were indoors and sleep, but a few people saw Harry and his followers. It pleased Harry that they nodded or even saluted rather than call for the guard.

It only took minutes before a goblin came back and reported, “Found one, boss. It’s glued to the side of a wagon.”

“Take me to it,” he replied. The goblin led him and the rest of his forced came with. They saw a wagon parked on a street with a paper pasted to one side. Harry cast a spell to produce a pale light, just enough to read the message.

‘No secrets! Your leaders are hiding the truth from you! The evil overlord Harry Silt has allied with wicked smugglers. He sells counterfeit heal fast potions that kill those who drink them.’

An indigent goblin struck a hand across his chest. “They’re talking trash about our evil overlord!”

“No one insults my alpha!” Vivian screamed. She tried to tear off the paper, and looked shocked when Harry held her back.

“Vivian, that paper must have been put up recently,” he said. “Can you get the scent of who placed it there?”

Vivian gave him a thoughtful look. “Maybe. I need to change.”

She walked into a nearby alley. Harry looked up and said, “Lovely stars tonight.”

Every goblin and smuggler gazed up far from Vivian. A smuggler said, “Oh gosh yes.”

“Absolutely beautiful,” a goblin added. “Sorry we haven’t found you more followers, boss. The Dread Evil Overlord Joshua and that Umber Hatchwich guy have been soaking up all the local talent.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry replied.

“We did hear back from a guy you might want,” the goblin continued. “He calls himself the Enigmatic Eye. No references, no work history, and he’s got this persistent smell I can’t identify, but I got a really good feeling about him.”

Seconds later Vivian came back in her werewolf form. She was sleek and beautiful, nearly as tall as Harry and covered with lustrous black fur. Her claws could tear a man apart, her jaws could break cattle bones and she was fast as a racehorse. Vivian handed a smuggler her clothes before she approached the paper and sniffed it, running her nose up and down the libelous document.

“We just bring in food,” a smuggler said. “Good folks would starve if we didn’t. Not our fault taxes are so high we have to do it quietly.”

“And the elven wine, well, everybody needs a good drink,” another smuggler added. “Not like we’re transporting slaves or poisons.”

“I have it,” Vivian growled. She stepped away from the paper and shredded it with her claws. “Gron can hide with magic, but not from me.”

“I want these men alive to answer questions,” Harry told his friends.

“They’ll live,” a goblin promised. “They just won’t be happy.”

Vivian led them through the twisting streets of Hogshead. Like most human cities it had expanded over the centuries with no plan, making it a maze of roads hard for anyone but a native to travel without getting lost. They came across more papers pasted to houses, shops and a church. Vivian sniffed them as well before tearing up the papers. They walked the streets of Hogshead for hours with Vivian on all fours sniffing the ground. Then she stopped and pointed at a stable.

“There. The scent is strong.”

“Are they still inside?” Harry asked.

Vivian’s ears twitched. “Yes. Four men, one of them older.”

“Cover all the exits,” Harry ordered. Goblins and smugglers surrounded the stable and drew their weapons. Harry considered his options and opted for overwhelming violence. Shocking how good he was getting at that.

Harry cast a spell to form a magic cloud and sent it across the street. It scooped up dirt, rocks, trash and a broken wheelbarrow, forming a mound of garbage weighing five hundred pounds. He then sped up the cloud and rammed it into the stable doors, knocking them off their hinges and terrifying the black clad men hiding inside. They’d been packing their bags, and had brushes and empty buckets stained with paste.

“You can come quietly or you can be carried out on stretchers,” he told the Truth Seekers. “Either way works for me.”

One of them yelled, “Run for it!”

Harry scowled. “Stretchers it is.”

The Truth Seekers charged Harry with drawn daggers. One cast a spell to form an icy knife and threw it at Harry. Harry caused the magic cloud to rise and let the icy knife hit the pile of garbage on it. Two Truth Seekers went left and another right while their wizard tried to cast another spell.

Harry charged the enemy wizard. He knew a lot about magic, including how long it took to cast spells. Combat spells didn’t take long, but the slightest blow could ruin the caster’s concentration and end the spell. Harry ran in and swung his staff, striking the rival wizard in the shin.

“Son of a—” the Truth Seeker screamed, but his no doubt obscenity laced tirade ended when two smugglers tackled him and pulled him to the ground.

A second Truth Seeker pulled a glass vial from a belt pouch and hurled it to the ground. The vial burst into a cloud of fire blocking goblins and smugglers trying to chase him. Harry caused his magic cloud to rise up and float over the fire, then vanish. The dirt and refuse carried fell onto the fire and snuffed it out.

“Next time drop it on the guy,” a goblin said.

“We need him alive,” Harry said.

“He can be alive with broken legs,” a smuggler countered.

The Truth Seeker ran for his life, throwing alchemic firebombs with wild abandon to cover his escape. Two bombs ignited a wood house, forcing three smugglers to stop and put out the fire before it spread. That Truth Seeker nearly escaped before Vivian ran down the street, leaped over the fires and landed on his shoulders with her feet. That knocked him to the ground and set off two firebombs in his belt. He screamed in terror as Vivian ripped off his belt and threw it away, then grabbed the man, lifted him over her head and dunked him into a horse trough to put out his burning clothes.

The last two Truth Seekers were trying to break through a mob of goblins blocking their way. They kicked and punched goblins, but a goblin managed to grab one of them. Three more followed, dragging their enemy to a halt and then tipping him over.

“Gron, don’t let them take me alive!” the downed Truth Seeker cried out.

Harry reformed his magic cloud, jumped onto it and soared after the men. “Ah, you’re the man I’m after.”

Gron saw him coming and swung a short sword. Harry blocked it with his staff and swung at Gron’s Legs. Old he might be, but Gron had the reflexes and training of a professional soldier and dodged the attack. He also kicked aside a goblin trying to pounce on him. Gron jumped onto the magic cloud and raised his sword to strike Harry. Harry dispelled the magic cloud, dropping both himself and Gron only a few inches back to the street. It was enough to throw off Gron’s balance and he staggered back. Harry tripped Gron with his staff and let the goblins pile on his fallen enemy.

“You’ve made powerful enemies,” Harry told Gron. “Be grateful they want you in a condition where you can answer questions. I’m half tempted to let the other three go, but setting fires in a city annoys me.”

One of the other Truth Seekers squinted at Harry. “Wait, Harry? It is you!”

“Yeah, it’s me, the guy you said kills people with fake heal fast potions.”

Three Truth Seekers looked shocked by his words. One said, “But you do. We verified it.”

Vivian dragged back the man she’d both defeated and saved. She dropped him at Harry’s feet and said, “Speak another lie against my alpha and we’ll hand over three men and one body.”

Harry pulled off Gron’s mask and looked him in the eyes. Gron was in his fifties but in excellent health, barely showing gray in his hair and few wrinkles. The older man scowled and said, “We’ll die, but you’ll join us soon.”

“I’m going to give one of my very real and effective heal fast potions to your friend whose massive stupidity set himself on fire,” Harry said. “Then I’m taking you all to Oceanview Kingdom, where very angry people are going to ask you lots of questions. One of them is Archibald Scrace, so get ready for the Archivists’ personal brand of retribution.”

“No!” Gron screamed as he broke free of the goblins holding him. He drew a dagger from a belt sheath and lunged at Harry. Harry raised his staff to block it when Vivian threw herself between the men and took the hit to her chest. Goblins cried out in terror. Smugglers swore.

Vivian slapped Gron across the face so hard the older man was thrown to the ground, where she then kicked him three feet into the air. She grabbed him and lifted him up even with where the dagger had hit her and done absolutely nothing.

“Next time use silver,” she growled. “My alpha, how alive do you want him?”