Chapter 671: Here for a good time
Most of Mason’s elite players, plus a small army of scouts, waited for him at the lower gates of Nassau’s ‘ground’ city.
Kiaan was there with a team now, still by far the highest level human scout. Mason trusted him to go wherever he thought was useful. The goblin Clicknik was with him, officially part of Mason’s house, and therefore actually trustworthy.
His job was the underground anywhere near Nassau. The new centaur scout Agape was ready, too, his task to be a kind of middle man between men and the centaurs near the Green Sea.
A few dozen other humans had also taken up the trade—including Billy, previously the Brewer. They’d go with the players teams.
Mason walked amongst them all smiling and nodding. Everyone had a communication beacon or had been trained by Orlon the elven captain to pass written messages huge distances. The good scouts could do so across the whole damn world, and all had regions and player teams they’d be with, keeping everyone apprised.
“Don’t get cocky,” Mason said as he walked between them. “If things look too nasty, ask for help. You scouts make the call. All your maps are marked with landmarks I can warp to. Remember the danger codes. If it’s red, I’ll leave what I’m doing. But don’t be Chicken Little, either. We triage. The whole world is about to be a battleground.”
It was a speech he’d given already, but reminding them made him feel better. Most of them looked ready. Anxious but prepared to meet the challenge and their fear. It was fine. Exactly what he’d expect from normal humans. But contrasting them to his players was…amusing.
Alex leaned against a wall and yawned. Becky was making a buzzing sound with some grass. Garet swung a summoned nunchuck around in one hand, a scimitar in the other. He was also chewing bubble gum, or something.
“Hey, chief,” he said like he hadn’t been listening to a word of the speech. “I’ve been meaning to ask for a re-match. Like OK, I know I’d lose, stop guffawing, you assholes. Yes people still say guffawing. Anyway. We did this mini-raid down in…wherever it was. And I’ve got a pretty nice little anti-defence sticker. Some new powers. I mean we’ve caught up quite a bit while you were off…doing your thing. I mean I know he’s got more magic, or whatever, but I’ve caught up a lot physically. That’s all I’m saying. I’m just saying!”
Mason smiled. “Yeah. Maybe later.”
He cracked his neck, mind moving into the forest, and the shape his body would start with. His people were still talking but he wasn’t listening now. The chance to kill was so close he could taste it. It wasn’t easy to shift his body into a dozen different animals. But he’d been practicing.
He started with a mostly bear-man ‘base’. He heard himself growl deep from his chest as he expanded, limbs and torso thickening and lengthening as the world shrunk around him. He preferred a sword in one hand, claws in the other, his nails growing and sharpening more like a badger than a wolf.
He looked upward, closing his eyes in pleasure as his skull reformed, hardened, stag horns growing from the hardest point above his forehead. His jaw distended, mouth growing fangs sharper and harder than steel. He kept human legs, which worked best over long distance, though he sprouted claws from the tips of his toes to grip the earth, and a talon like finger at the back.
Spring’s Embrace adapted with his form. Everywhere on his body now was either Sleeved, covered in fur and carapace, or the magical protection of Eve’s armor. Between Wild Shape and Transformation he’d reform in battle, warping himself to whatever was useful, turning every wound into fuel to destroy his enemies.
He took a breath when the shift was complete, drawing his Honor Blades just to test their position over his new, giant limbs. He tasted the air, new senses expanding around him, feeling the primal urge to hunt that always came with shifting.
Whatever useless worries he’d had left were gone. A new, simplified understanding of the world made so much easier—a world that now contained only ally, or prey.
When he paid attention around himself again, he realized most of his people were laughing. He looked down at an open-mouthed Garet, staring up at him with a slack jawed, wide-eyed expression.
“Hey Garet.” Becky was wiping tears out of her eyes. “You thinkin’ maybe you should try that re-match now? Or did you wanna change your pants, first?”
“Hey, you know I’d kick your ass!” He pointed at her. “Might take me a minute. But you’d better believe that shield won’t save you.”
“Sure, honey. Maybe I’d just stand still for ya.”
His players were still howling like it was all a bit of fun. Mason smiled as he saw the scouts staring like they were all some alien species. Good, he thought. See what we are. What we’ve been made into by this game. Maybe then you’ll understand what it takes to survive.
He took a few steps forward, realizing Becky didn’t even reach his waist in this form. He felt the power of his body. The knowledge that he could turn and hack down a tree with a single swipe of his claws. That he could leap and soar across Nassau. That he could grow wings in the air and never come back down.
“Go to your positions,” he growled without trying to, silently calling his companions now.
“Follow your leaders.” Phuong gestured for his group. “My people are taking a beacon south. Garet’s team is on foot. You know what to do. Warp home before reset. We’ll see you in the morning, soldiers.”
There were lots of whoops and smiles as the players moved out. Becky blew Mason a kiss, literally too small compared to him to do much else. He didn’t even smile back, because it probably would have looked like he was trying to eat her.
Streak and his pack came howling from the settlement, their urge to hunt filling him with adrenaline. He heard Shawk screech from somewhere above. Heard the noble eagles rallying to their elders call from nearby mountains, all taking to the skies.
For a long time he just stood there with his eyes closed, reaching out with One with Nature. It made him think of a spider in its web at first, but the metaphor changed. Not a spider. A great tree—its roots spread across the continent, knowing the terrain like all of it was home.
He reached further and further, never before feeling such…willingness. Such cooperation. It was like the whole forest had become his allies. The trees and birds his scouts. Plant and animal all in lock step, marching to battle across the world.
He supposed it made sense. All of the prime’s living things shared the same fate now. And from the great to the small, the strong to the meek, all had something to offer.
He smiled as he thought of Garet asking if he needed help. His players thought he had the hardest job. That he was guarding the forest alone.
On the contrary, he had the biggest army of them all.
Despite the growing herd of animals all clamoring for his attention, he stood immobile, watching, waiting. The event was coming, but it hadn’t arrived. He did nothing until the forest woke. A chain of messengers spreading like wildfire until it reached his ears.
Glowing circle, whispered the trees with voices on the wind. Unnatural. East of the double rivers.
Mason finally opened his eyes. With his growing knowledge, and here in the great forest with its ancient roots, almost everything was a landmark of natural magic.
With the barest flick of mana, he Feywalked into the nearest tree.
**
Carnek, Baron of the Plane of Fire, stepped into the prime at long last. How long had it been? Two hundred years? Three hundred? More?
[Objective received: Wildfire. Incinerate as many trees in the ‘Great Forest’ as possible in [7] days. Additional points received for every square mile burned. Divine rewards for damage or destruction of Great Trees.]
He laughed and watched his breath turn to smoke in the frigid, ‘summer’ air. Oh how he loved and hated this place. But the god of fire was being very clear, and very generous.
“Do we burn now, baron? Do we burn? Do we burn?”
The elemental captains had already come through the gates, apparently. They hopped up and down all around him, so eager to please, so eager to begin. But today they could not annoy him. Because today was a day of days.
“Yes, my pets.” He reached down and stroked the little creatures, enjoying how they flinched away at his greater heat. “We burn it now. We burn it all.”
The captains roared with glee, their skin bursting into liquid heat that at least made Carnek feel a little more comfortable. He shivered at the pleasure of the mixture of hot and cold. It was nice for a short visit. But he’d be happier when the world was all in flames.
He stepped towards the ‘forest’—what a terrible name—offended by every living thing not yet charred to ash.
His [Combust] activated, drawing power from the many minions now pouring out of the portals. Carnek had been preparing for this day for so long. He was covered in artifacts, surrounded by allies and a powerful army that would soon be here.
The nearest trees lit, but he could feel their resistance. There was a will in this place resisting the inevitability of fire. A kind of ignorant devotion to the slavish religion of life.
Also the birds wouldn’t stop tweeting. The pitiful sun glowed with a sickening kind of yellow light. It was all…wrong. Alien and unpleasant.
Carnek shivered, despising it. Once the living things had all burned, it would be cold on the prime again. Even worse than it was now. He would take all his victories and gains, and retreat back to his home in comfort, a lord of fire graced by the gods.
“Do not tremble my lovelies,” he said to his shivering nearby allies, and also to himself. “We won’t be here long.”
They burned, and they smiled. They smiled, and they burned. Carnek watched it all with a sigh, never satisfied as much as he hoped. Fire-pleasure on the prime was always a fleeting thing.
“We won’t be here long,” he mumbled a few more times.
“No,” said a voice, dark and deep and terrible. A sound that sent a strange, cold shiver up Carnek’s spine. “You won’t.”