Note 1: Shout-out to my dearest friend, Bloodrayne666 for not only the use of her characters, such as Monalisa and Pandora, but also for her help in making this chapter.
Note 2: The song used in this chapter belongs to Miracle of Sound. Support him by listening to his music.
Chapter 50
Final Festival
Afternoon, the sun was on the decent, and evening not far away.
Sitting on a bench in the village, Moe stared out into the air, seemingly miles away. His wounds had all been healed, thanks to their magical water, but it would still take time before he would fully recover.
"Hey, Moe." a voice said softly, as Sarah came up and sat down next to him. "How are you feeling?"
"Not too groovy." the mole replied.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. I've always known that I would die one day, everyone will, but what I saw, what I experienced… it was not what I had imagined… Did something like that happen to you?"
"You mean some dark void that was all warm and comforting? It did, actually."
"Really? That's the same as what happened to me. I heard a lot of voices too, couldn't make out what they were saying, but it felt as if I could trust them."
"Me too. Same thing for the both of us… have you talked to Mikey about it too?"
"Not yet. Can't get close to him without feeling like I'm intruding on his reunion with his family. But it sounded like he went to heaven and back, all on his own too. Personally, it didn't feel like what you and I saw was heaven, or whatever you believe in. No offence."
"None taken. But, yeah, I agree with you, did not feel like paradise."
"Then... what was it?"
"Dunno." Moe said with a shrug. "Not hell, at least, or if it was, then it's been done dirty by the churches back home."
"I don't think so. Shortly after we got here, the boss gave us Knights a quick run down of hell, or rather Hells. There's apparently nine layers, and none of them pleasant. Not at all like what we experienced."
"So not heaven, and not hell. But then what?"
"Your guess is as good as mine." Sarah said with a shrug, even though the question gnawed at her.
"Maybe… maybe it was a… a waiting room?"
"A waiting room…? You mean some form of limbo?"
"Yeah. Like, maybe we weren't quite ready for heaven yet. Maybe it's too radical to comprehend if you're not in synch with it yet. Or maybe they held off on letting us in, as they knew that our friends would get us back."
"That does make some sense. Not sure if it's what really happened, but I think I can live with that."
"Good for you. Me, I'd just like to play some gnarly music. Actually, scratch that. I want to play something happy, something to put a smile on peoples' faces."
"No complaints from me. We've all earned it."
Meanwhile, Percy was leaning against one of the houses. They had all been told that they needed to clean up the corpses from the gnolls and their allies, but it could still wait until the next day, as everyone were exhausted from all the fighting.
Percy was taking the opportunity to just wind down, had he still been human, he might even taken a smoke, but since he mutated, he had overcome that horrible habit he picked up to spite his demanding parents. It just wasn't worth getting back into that lifestyle afterwards.
"Percy." he heard a familiar voice call out, and looking to his left he saw Kate walking up to him.
"Glad to see you up and about again." he said with a genuine smile, but that was quickly wiped from his face as Kate slugged him so hard that he not only was thrown to the ground, but his jaw was actually dislocated as well.
Sitting up on the ground, he groaned as he pushed his lower jaw back in place.
"Gah! Oh, man, that hurt!"
"That's for the fucking spider nest you put in my clothes, you arch vermin!" Kate snarled, cracking her knuckles.
"You heard all that? You were as unresponsive as a carrot, and yet you heard that one thing?"
"I heard everything! Every last word!" the viper snapped.
Kate then kneeled in front of him, and Percy braced himself for another beating, but it never came. Instead, Kate put her arms around him and pulled him into a hug.
"Thank you… for taking care of me… for trying to help…"
"Um… anytime?" he said, still rather baffled.
Breaking the hug, Kate planted a small kiss on Percy's cheek before standing up.
"I want you to know, Percy, that I hate you. You're a wretched vermin, and a horrible person, but… you're also a true friend when it counts."
"I'll admit that I got a… different sense of humour from most, and plenty of flaws, but if there's one thing that I can swear on my soul, it's that I'm loyal to those I care about. And that includes you."
"I know. But try that stunt with the spiders again, and I WILL kill you. Understood?" Kate gave him a hard glare.
"Yessum!" he said, saluting in the process. "So… where's Mikey? I thought you'd be glued to his side now that he's back. You said as much, yourself."
"I know, and trust me, I really want to. But I got strict orders from the doc and nurse to take care of myself first, before I can take care of Mikey. And I needed to thank you, before I had the chance to change my mind."
"How's he doing? I mean, I saw when they brought in his body, and it didn't look good."
"Last I saw, James was going to clean the wounds properly before letting Devina use her magic to close them up. Other than that, Mikey seems absolutely fine."
"That's good to hear. Things wouldn't have been the same here without him."
"No… they certainly wouldn't…"
"So, are you done yet? I'm starting to get tired in my arm." said Michelangelo, who was holding his left arm straight up as Devina held out her hands at his side, a golden glow washing over the turtle's wounds.
"Just a little longer… and… done. There, almost as good as new."
"Phew, thanks." Michelangelo said as he could finally lower his arm. "You know, we really should stop meeting like this." He said, remembering when Devina had healed wounds left by multiple crossbow bolts that he had been shot by in Skyrim.
"Then stop getting so badly hurt. I'm the only one here that's supposed to be on this side of death."
"Fair point, but at least I'm not undead yet. Wonder how that would feel."
"I can only speak for myself, but I imagine that it's different for different kinds of undead, and I'm not a typical ghoul myself."
"Um… Devina?" someone asked, and turning around, the vampire/werewolf hybrid saw one of the fellow hybrids, namely the lizard/turtle hybrid, Pandora, and she looked very uncomfortable, constantly avoiding eye contact despite being the one that tried to initiate it.
"Pandora? What's the matter?"
Pandora looked at Devina
"Devina...I...I...I'm sorry…" she stammered "I don't hate you, I was just so upset...I didn't mean what I said!"
"Pandora, sweetheart…" Devina said, knowing what all this was about. The young mutant had been greatly upset when she had learnt that Michelangelo was dead, and she had blamed Devina for it.
"No. I'm so truly sorry! I wish I had never said it! I don't hate you, it wasn't your fault. please...forgive me…" the hybrid sobbed.
Standing up, Devina walked up to Pandora and cupped her cheeks.
"Geshia, Tigress, of course I forgive you, I understand how you felt, I know how much Michelangelo means to you...grief affects everyone in different ways, I know why you spoke the way you did…"
"But I shouldn't have...I'm sorry!"
"I know, and it's alright." Devina shushed as she brought Pandora into a hug.
Tyroth walked through the village with Harald by his side.
"What's next for you, friend?" the Nordling asked.
"Right now, I just want everyone to take it easy, at least until tomorrow, this day has been heavy enough as it is. You?"
"Well, we should return home with our spoils of this 'raid', but if you intend to do nothing else today, might I suggest something else?"
"What would that be?" Tyroth asked.
"A grand feast! With ale, song, and dance! A celebration to our victory over our foes, and a grand send off to my fallen warriors."
"A feast? We had one the last time you were, only a few days ago."
"What can I say, we enjoy festivities." Harald said with a broad smile. "Besides, it may help to heighten the spirits of your people."
"It would feel good to do something fun after all that's happened. And they do deserve a break from all the blood, sweat, and tears they've shed. Alright, you've convinced me."
"Glorious, friend! I'll have my men bring the ale!"
"You do that. I just hope that we have enough supplies to spare and manage the winter."
"Jarl Tyroth!" the two leaders heard Ovrul call out as the hobgoblin approached them. "A moment if I may."
"There's no problems, I hope?"
"None at all. We've secured the prisoners, and are ready to depart."
"Leaving already?" Harald asked. "Not while there's a feast to be had!"
"A feast? Surely you jest, Nordling." Ovrul said, cocking his head slightly. "What would your kind know of such things?"
"You'd be surprised, Torgalian. Have your men join us, and you'll see for yourself." Harald said confidently.
"Why don't you go and have your people prepare what they need, Harald, and we'll see if Ovrul and the others can join later."
"Aye, I can do that." Harald said with a smile and started walking towards his ships. "This will be a grand time!"
"Nordlings. I will never understand them." the hobgoblin muttered.
"They are a special kind, I'll give them that." Tyroth chuckled. "But what he said is true. And you are all welcome, if you can, that is."
Ovrul looked at the sun as it crept ever closer to the horizon.
"Oh, what the Hells." he shrugged. "The eve is nearly upon us, if we set out now, we'd only have to make camp again within a few hours. Better to stay the night in a secure area when possible, and the prisoners aren't going anywhere. Speaking of which."
Reaching into his belt pocket, Ovrul pulled out a pouch that was heavy and clinked as it was placed in Tyroth's hand.
"Compensation for your troubles." the hobgoblin said with a slight grin.
Opening the pouch, Tyroth saw a number of silvery coins. But they weren't silver, no, Tyroth recognised them right away as platinum coins, and a different kind when compared to the ones he had been gifted earlier. These were square instead of circular, and both larger and thicker. Clearly, they had to be worth more as a result.
"Twenty five platinum plates, each worth twenty gold." Ovrul explained. "And that's just one tenth of what you're owed."
"One tenth? Hold on that's…" Tyroth began counting in his head, and once he was done, his eyes widened in shock. He had to redo his calculations to sure, and he got the same results. "Five thousand gold! Five thousand gold for nine slavers?! Two of which are dead! That can't be right!"
"It isn't. Normal 'compensation' is two hundred and fifty gold per live slaver, and one hundred and fifty for every dead one."
"That would not even get us half as much as you claim we're owned. Where does all the rest come from?"
"From that." Ovrul said pointing off in the distance, towards the battlefield. "While it's really not my place to decide, given just how hard you and your people fought against the gnolls, and thus defended the nation as well, even if it was coincidental, has in my eyes earned you the rest. Honestly, you've earned so much more than that, but it's all we had with us. Perhaps you'll even get more in the future, for services to the kingdom."
"I don't even know what we can spend this amount of money on to begin with." Tyroth sighed. "But I won't turn it down. There may come a time when we will need it. You have my thanks."
"Just doing my job, and I for one am glad to put some of these dung piles behind bars."
A while later, as the sun was now on the edge of the horizon, and people had gathered both in the inn and right outside it, in the village square. A large bonfire had been lit which spread warmth and light as people ate and drank together.
Initially, the Mutopians and Riders had not shared the mirth and celebratory spirit of the Nordlings, but it proved to be increasingly infectious as the evening progressed, and soon they were all laughing and cheering together.
Standing near the fire, Tyroth looked out among all the people, and he felt happy for them, happy for the unity among them that he saw. It did not not matter if they were Mutopian, or Torgalian, or Nordling. Noble, mercenary, commoner. None of that mattered at this time, at this very moment, they were all friends.
After all that had happened, it just felt good for everyone to simply enjoy themselves for once, and that was almost enough to bring a tear to the dragon's eye.
Suddenly, a voice rang out throughout the area.
"Listen! I say listen!" Harald bellowed, and in short order, everyone simmered down. Once everyone was silent, Harald resumed speaking in a loud voice, with a horn filled with ale raised into the air.
"I propose a toast! A toast to the mighty warrior that is the leader of this fine village! To Jarl Tyroth Hordebane! Skål!"
Cheers erupted among the people, and the Nordlings began to stomp the ground and beat their fists on the tables in a stable rhythm and soon broke out in a song. A song with a lot of heart in it.
"Raise your horns into the air
There is plenty ale to share
All are welcome, take a chair
And sing a song loud and strong"
"Men of war and men of care
Maidens fierce and maidens fair
Raise your horns into the air
And sing a song loud and proud and strong"
"SKÅL!
SKÅL!
Sing loud and strong
SKÅL!
SKÅL!
A toast and a thundering song"
A few of the Nordlings started playing on lutes and horns, and even Moe joined in with his own horn, a gift from the Nordlings, matching the tones he heard.
"At the end of the eve
We'll be welcome and warm
By a great roaring fire
Our voices a storm"
"In the warm timber halls
We will keep out the cold
As we bellow and belt out
These tunes full of soul"
More and more of the Mutopian, and even the Riders joined in on the song.
"Raise your horns into the air
There is plenty ale to share
All are welcome, take a chair
And sing a song loud and strong"
"Men of war and men of care
Maidens fierce and maidens fair
Raise your horns into the air
And sing a song loud and proud and strong"
"SKÅL!
SKÅL!
Sing loud and strong
SKÅL!
SKÅL!
A toast and a thundering song"
The beat continued as the song seized for a moment, letting the instruments take centre stage for a short time before continuing.
"We're welcome and warm
Our voices a storm
Our voices, our voices a storm"
"Raise your horns into the air
There is plenty ale to share
All are welcome, take a chair
And sing a song loud and strong"
"Men of war and men of care
Maidens fierce and maidens fair
Raise your horns into the air
And sing a song loud and proud and strong"
"SKÅL!
SKÅL!
Sing loud and strong
SKÅL!
SKÅL!
A toast and a thundering song"
"SKÅL!"
And so, we are almost at the very end of this story. Been a long time coming, but we're almost here. Still, there is at least one more chapter left, perhaps even two or three, but that's it.
I hope that you've all enjoyed this long trip together with me.