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Cearl wasn’t a Frenchman. He had no reason to be in La Brenne at the time. Yet, there he was. He was four feet down in a foxhole, his head barely protected by a helmet and a makeshift sheet of tin that he’d pulled over the entrance. He couldn’t help but rap his hands on his lap in time with the beat of the rain. He was in Artois when Atlantis made its presence on the world stage known. He watched as it and the cult of Zeus established its new nation. He knew the second that he saw Saxons crossing into the wetlands that there was something wrong. He’d thought they were invaders. He came to realize after the locals slaughtered them that they were more than that. He hadn’t seen Gristals since he was a boy. They were soaring across the sky, along with other horrors from the war. Great sky snakes and men with feathered feet. The snakes spewed sweet-smelling rain forth from their mouths and the feathered men lit it on fire when it drenched their targets. Boyard was leveled and the ground was salted. This meant little to Atlantis. He knew they had powerful magic and technology to fix that should they settle there, but it meant everything to those who’d lived there. The average French farmer wasn’t equipt to desalinate soil.
He could hear shouts above him and he drew his dagger, if he was to die in an awful place like France, at least he would die murdering Atlantians. He shot out of the foxhole, howling like a dog, only to slam face-first into a birdcage, knocking him back on his ass.
Cearl sat up, looking up at an oppressively tall orc dressed in the knight’s armor of Treason, but the person with the birdcage was a bloody-faced elf with glowing eyes. He got to his feet and tried to rush the orc, who shoved him to the ground.
“Go back to your hole, goblin,” she said. Raising her hand which did not hold a sword. “I will not hesitate to hit you.”
“Fight me goddamn you!” he shouted.
“No.”
She kicked the goblin back into the foxhole, and in there he stayed while they moved on to the next scene. Give me a cigarette. Betta and Kailin continued to trek through the wetlands as the fire lit up the night sky. It was as though the Atlantians had created a miniature sun, rendered cylindrical.
"Do you think they'll come to harm us?" asked Kailin.
"It's more than likely," said Betta. "Atlantians are an odd lot. They worship the bastard Posideon and enjoy only the equestrian arts and total warfare."
"Total warfare?"
"Their entire population has a nasty habit of fully engaging in war. Every man, woman, whatever, and child eats, sleeps, and breaths combat when war is about."
"Fuck."
"Yeah. They're the only people in the world that I know of who can make a living off of being a mercenary. That's why nobody ever talks about Lemuria. They erased it from existence."
"What did they do to it?"
"They sent in their best and brightest. It was, from what I remember being told meant to be an exchange of artist and talent between the two super-nations. Something happened and so...no more Lemuria."
Kailin felt their throat seize as they would vomit.
"Don't fret little conjurer, I am the right hand of Zeus. All who oppose me are corpses that walk like men."
Thunderbolts raced across the night sky, filling it with a new source of energy. The white light briefly illuminated the knight's face and Kailin could see she was smiling.
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Their walk took them to the trenchlands. They could see poor farmers armed with dull swords, axes, and hoes rapidly tossing water out of their positions as the sweet rain began to come down ever harder. Betta and Kailin approached one such farmer.
"You there!" shouted Betta. "What is the matter?"
The farmer turned to them, his face pale. He cast his eyes towards the Kailin and his face sunk further, while he looked in awe at Betta, "They've leveled our village and they mean to slaughter us."
"Who?"
"Them!" he shouted, pointing towards the sky. "The fucking Atlantians. Haven't you been listening!?"
Betta and Kailin turned to see a great host of creatures in the sky. Gristals, Harpies, and all sorts of other flying beasts are too numerous to count.
"Oh, well...It was nice meeting you, little man in a foxhole. But we really must be, going. Do you know the way to Vivarais?" asked Kailin.
The orc turned to her new companion, "Are you content with allowing them to die?"
"It's not allowing, it just simply isn't our fight. Besides, what are the odds of the two of us against an army of pissed-off islanders?"
"I see," said Betta. "Your apathy is duly noted. However, I am not content. I will go and defend these people."
"And what of me?"
"You can come with me, or you can go back to your hole. It matters not to me."
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Kailin thought for a moment. They had no reason to help these people. They didn't even know them. But, they also had no reason not to help them. They nodded they could rationalize warfare as counting toward their sins. Wrath, warfare was definitely filed under wrath. If they were smart about it, they could tally up the murders to count for weeks worth of sins. It wasn't like they were going to get a better offer.
"Very well, I shall go with you."
Betta nodded and turned back to the farmer, "Good. You there, old fella, what’s your name, and is there a place at which we can plan?"
“My name is Emeric…I think there’s a barn nearby that we can use, Miss.” he said.
The man fled towards it, followed by Kailin and Betta. Dale, bored of this bloody affair was asleep in his cage. The barn was a large, half-burned shack. Any animals that had once slept within it were long gone. Emeric rolled over a large board and showed the pair a map of La Brenne.
“As far as we know,” he said. “The Gristals and the other horrors are coming from the west. I think it’s safe to assume that their footmen will be arriving in much the same way.”
Kailin gave Betta a look and clapped their hands together to direct the conversation, “I have a notion, I would like to turn this into a working.”
“What?” asked the farmer.
“I want to use this skirmish as a means of sacrifice. I want to make a grand sacrifice to The Goat.”
“What?” asked Emeric again, this time more incredulous.
"You want them dead, don't you? You wish to take your land back from invaders, don't you?" they said, their tone growing cold and venomous. "This is your chance. Help me, and I will make all your dreams come true."
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Emeric looked to Betta for guidance. The knight stared at Kailin for a few long moments before finally nodding.
Kailin took out a piece of chalk and began to draw a perfect, compassless circle around the area of the map. Before filling in everything within it's borders with a great sigil.
"I've not seen a magician work like this," said Emeric. "This feels different."
"All magic is functionally the same. You are using the act of ritual to change the shape of reality. For this, we're using warfare to power a ritual that will fundamentally change things for you."
Emeric looked dubious but remained silent as Kailin continued their work. "This is the sigil of Glasya Labolas. The bringer of violence. For our ritual, Glasya shall be the tool of a beautiful act of war."
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"I think I can get behind that," said Betta. "After all, who hasn't needed a spot of violence now and then?"
Kailin drew a few more symbols around the sigil before finally standing. "I shall act as ritual master, you all shall act as the instrument."
"What if this Glassy character turns on us and slaughters us?" asked Emeric.
"Glasya Labolas will not be directly summoned, it's more of a thing done in their honor. Like praying or sleeping."
"I don't understand."
"It doesn't matter. What matters is that it will give us the power we need to defeat the Atlantians and take back your land."
Emeric looked unconvinced but Betta put a hand on his shoulder. "We will make this work. I have faith in Kailin."
Betta focused on Emeric: "Send a group out to begin carving the sign into the soil."
Emeric nodded and left to do as he was told. Kailin and Betta were left alone in the barn.
"You're sure about this?" asked Betta.
"Of course, confidence is half of what makes it work.” They said. “You’ve not studied a good deal of magic, have you?”
The orc shook her head, “No, I’ve often found the personalities of wizards irritating.”
Kailin nodded with their mouth open, not entirely sure how they should feel about that descriptor. It was kind of like hearing someone say that your entire career made you insufferable by default.
"I see," they said. "Well, I suppose that it isn't for everybody."
"Indeed," said Betta. "So, how does this work?"
"Well, I as ritual master will be changing throughout it. Sort of like leading a prayer, but you all, will be acting as a ritual dagger."
Betta furrowed her brow, "What do you mean?"
"Look at it like this. Normally during a ritual, I would have a knife with me. I use it to spill my blood or the blood of an animal to act as a sacrifice to whatever demon I'm giving fealty to. you all would be acting as a very big dagger."
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"So, that's just how war works, we'd be doing that anyways."
"Yeah, but with the ritual, it will kill all of them. Every single person invading this swampland will be ripped apart by demonic fire."
Betta thought for a moment, "That's...an interesting proposal."
"I figured you would like it."
"I do," said Betta. "I think we can make this work."
Kailin nodded, "Good. Now, we just need to wait for Emeric to get back with the others."
Betta nodded and the two of them stepped outside to wait. It didn't take long for Emeric to return with a group of farmers, all of them looking quite nervous.
"Are you sure about this?" asked Emeric.
Kailin nodded, "Of course. We wouldn't be doing this if we weren't sure."
Emeric took a deep breath and nodded, "Alright. Let's do this."
Kailin led the group out into the wetlands. The ground was soft and wet, perfect for carving symbols into. They began to carve the sigil of Glasya Labolas into the earth. The farmers worked quickly and efficiently. It didn't take long for them to finish. Before long, Atlantian footsoldiers were marching across the field toward the farmers and Betta at the head of their force.
Kailin stood at the back of the army and outside of the symbol and raised their hands. Their voice was different then, their voice boomed with a kind of percussive rhythm behind it, " Hear me, Glasya Labolas. In my ancient tongue, I chant. With this ancient act, I offer blood to you. You can see it can't you? The blood and bone, I offer you. Power and might, in exchange for your loyalty and protection. So mote it be!"
The glow of the elf's eyes turned into a black flame as the arcane glyphs that surrounded the battlefield erupted in fire that was equal to that which burned in Kailin's eyes. Lightning lit up the sky as Zeus himself howled with laughter. Betta took this as a pleasant sign and raised her sword high. In her mind, she was going to be the best goddamn ritual dagger she could be.
Betta made a harsh growl as she and the army rushed across the burning sign, untouched by the black flame as Atlantians lined up their rifles and let the lead fly. It was as though they were trying to shoot the sun, the bullets passing through Betta and her army and tearing great rents in the space behind them. Betta barreled into the first rank of Atlantians, her greatsword tearing through their armor as though it were paper. The Atlantians tried to fight back, but it was as though they were trying to fight a hurricane. They were torn apart, their screams lost to the sound of the thunder. There's something curious about the nature of knights and their weapons. They're designed to do two things. To break open the armor of the enemy and then further break the enemy within. In that sense, they are a lot like lobsters.
Kailin watched as Betta and her army tore through the Atlantians. It was a brutal and beautiful sight. The farmers fought with a kind of ferocity that Kailin had never seen before. They were inspired by Betta, inspired by the promise of victory. Kailin felt a horrible laugh rise and they looked around, only to find that the only person laughing was them. They pulled the dead bard's lyre from their bag and began to strum the strings. Its notes rang out through the minds of the Atlantian soldiers as they were slaughtered by a gang of poorly armed French serfs and the knight at their head.
The lyre's song sounded through the minds of the dead and the dying. It filled their mind with images of their homes being burned, and their families being slaughtered. It showed them a future where they were the ones being marched to their deaths. It was a future of pain and suffering. It was a future of torment. And the Atlantians ran. They ran as fast as they could. They left their dead and their wounded behind. They scattered like the rats they were.
Betta watched them go with a look of disgust on her face. " cowards."
Kailin stopped playing the lyre and the images stopped. The Atlantians were gone. They'd been routed. Kailin looked around at the battlefield and saw only French corpses. There wasn't a single Atlantian body to be found.
"What happened?" asked Emeric.
"They ran," said Betta. "They ran like the cowards they are."
"But, what of our dead?”
"They gave their lives for a cause," said Kailin. "They died so that you all could live. They will be remembered as heroes."
Emeric nodded and turned to the others. "Let's take our dead back to the village. We'll send them off on the pyres."
The farmers nodded and began to gather up their dead. Kailin and Betta watched them go.
"Well," said Betta. "That was...something."
Kailin nodded, "Yes, it was."
"I have to say, I'm impressed."
"Impressed? I did little," they said.
"No," said Betta. "You did more than most. You gave these people hope when they had none. You gave them a reason to fight."
Kailin continued to pluck at the strings of their new instrument. It was the first time that playing it felt natural.
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