Chapter 15: Lance’s Temper

Lance darted out of the door flap as quickly as she could, turning the corner to see the mob still staring murder at the tent. The majority of them were anyhow. A few were, to her horror, digging through the burlap bag where she had left it in the grass, some holding Hoplite’s guns in awkward grips. She took a deep breath, and casually began approaching the Fiendwallers that were pawing through what did not belong to them. She didn’t want to draw more attention to the defenseless bag after all.

There were four large burly fellows standing around the now open sack, all holding the long black rifles in unfamiliar grips. She quickened her pace, soon coming to stand a few feet away from them. They then took notice of her, looking up from their inspections to stare at her with furrowed brows, their mustaches drawing down with deep frowns.

“That isn’t yours.” Lance said “Put those back and go about your business.”

The men all looked at each other then, looking confused before they all began shaking their heads.

“Nah little lady.” One man said in a snide tone, amplified by his thick Fiendwaller accent.

She was of a height with him, but he was still twice as wide as she and possessed the sunken knuckles of a brawler. They all did.

“We do be needing these for the fiends. We heard that the hero used some of these miniature cannons to clear out the damned.” He told her “We do think that we should have these, they were in that fallen star and in all fairness; we do think that we deserve something for the tragedy that befell us.” He finished with a glare.

Lance pursed her lips as she stared at the long black rifle he held in his calloused hands. If he knew how to use it properly then Lance most likely would have fetched Hoplite for this, but she was a watcher… and these were just men.

“Then you can ask him, he just might let you… But until then, you must give them to me.” Lance said in a stern tone, their glares meeting.

From what she could read from his eyes, the arrogant fool wasn't frightened of her at all, and despite what he just said, there wasn't altruism in his want at all; just ambition. What did he really intend to do with these guns? She didn't doubt that they would be used for fiends… but with ambition aflame in his gaze she doubted that was his only intent with the weapons. His friends though… when she met their eyes, they portrayed more uncertainty. Perhaps they had simply fallen in with the arrogant fellow? The man then lifted his chin and gave a small growl. The other three men then looked to their leader, then back to Lance, now glaring at her with fresh anger and determination in their eyes.

“What will ye do little lass? Try and take them?” He asked “I could fold you in half four times over, just leave us be.”

Lance took another step forward as his words drew a torrent of rage from her “I don’t think so, you dirty thief.” She said with an edge of spite.

How dare he underestimate her!? Did he not know just what a watcher was capable of? She oughta fold him in half ten times over as a matter of principle! The man then raised the rifle, aiming it awkwardly at her as the other men began to laugh.

“It do not be thievery to take reparations, you faekin wench.” He spat “Begone before I use this thing!”

Lance froze in place, then narrowed her eyes “You don’t know do you?” She asked in an amused tone.

The men then shared a brief look between one another, more confused than before.

“Know what?” One asked, his brows knit together as he glared at her.

She smiled as she would have at a child at play before replying “Only the hero can use those weapons.” She lied, keeping her amused tone “If you try using that, It’ll kill you instantly. The hero told me, there is a curse placed on the triggers friends. If you pull it, it’ll know that you're not the hero and kill you for attempting to use it.” Lance then shrugged as they began looking at the triggers of the rifles; following up with an approving smile when they gingerly removed their fingers from them “See, that’s why I told you to ask the hero first, only he can remove the curse placed on the weapons.”

There was also the other detail she noticed that she didn’t bring up… A detail she could capitalize on, but it would be better to de-escalate from a fight here if possible. She internally sighed as she realized that she had been just about to leap forward and beat the big man to a pulp due to what he said earlier… Fold her in half four times indeed! Lance would love to see the fool try to-

She shook her head lightly; Lance really needed to work on reigning in her temper… but when someone underestimated her it brought out a seething anger that she could scarcely contain. Thankfully, that didn’t happen often, Lance had proved herself time and time again to the watchers that thought she couldn’t make the cut.

“Oh you are full of dung!” The first man yelled, drawing attention from the crowd.

They all turned to look at the commotion, seeing her and the men with rifles. Some gasped as they saw the guns, whispering to one another about the hero’s legendary thunder staves. Even more took cautious steps forward, greed and intent shining in their eyes as they found the still-standing bag.

“Try it then, shoot at the ground and fall dead!” She shouted back “Leave this plane for toying with what you don’t understand!”

The man froze, his eyes staring murder at Lance before he set the gun on the ground “We will ask the hero if he do be willing to part with these tools and remove the curse, faekin whore.”

She smirked at him as he stood back up, crossing her arms under her breasts and lifting her chin a bit. Lance had been told that she had a problem with gloating; but by the Pillars it was just so satisfying! That seemed to have been the wrong thing to do however, for the man suddenly snarled at seeing her expression, charging right as his companions finished placing their guns in the grass. Ham-sized hands reached for her, looking to crush her throat.

Oh he was so slow!

She dodged his clumsy attempt to grab her, driving a fist right into his ribs before spinning away with footwork that looked almost like a dance. She smirked again, lifting her chin and giving an amused laugh. Everyone had seen him take the first swing! Lance could now thrash him about guiltlessly. Sure, she had wanted to de-escalate, but this would be a lot of fun! The fellow coughed but didn’t slow his attacks, big meaty fists swinging for her head in haymakers that could knock out a bull.

If they could hit anyway.

It was ridiculously easy for her to duck and weave away from the clumsy strikes.

“Stop it Hollim!” A man from the crowd shouted “That do be a watcher!”

“Oh let him get beaten!” An older woman shouted “He’s always had a temper on him; this do be something he needs!”

“No Hollim! This no be the way!” One of the men next to the bag shouted.

Hollim snarled, angry eyes like a feral beast locked on Lance “I no care! She do deserve this!”

Lance ducked beneath another huge swing, darting in and lifting a hand to his face. She quickly gripped the right side of his mustache firmly. The twirled end made a fantastic handle she realized, and with a toothy smirk she ripped it free from his face. Lance twirled away as the man gripped the now bare side of his lip, his now reddening eyes seeming intent on murder.

She tossed her half of the mustache away like trash and held her arms out “What are you going to do big man?” She laughed “I thought you were ‘going to fold me in half!’” She guffawed.

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Instead of darting for her, like she thought Hollim would have, he instead backpedaled, picking a rifle up from the ground and aiming it at her. Lance froze. If he pulled that trigger, her lie from earlier would be found out. Lance couldn’t let that happen.

“Don’t you remember what I said?” Lance asked him in as gentle a tone as she could manage “You’ll die if you pull that trigger.”

“Lies!” Hollim snarled “You do be a lying wretch!”

All she could see in those reddening eyes was wrath and determination. He was absolutely going to pull that trigger. Lance readied herself for the results of that, taking a deep steady breath. One of the other men behind him leapt to grab the rifle, but before the man could get a grip on the barrel, Hollim ducked away and pulled the trigger.

*Click*

She inwardly groaned. Earlier she had noticed that the rifles hadn’t been loaded, thankfully the men hadn’t finished their inspections, otherwise they may have figured that part out. She shrugged as she stared Hollim, who’s eyes widened in terror. Likely he thought what she said earlier was true now…

“You aren’t going to die.” Lance told him, trying to replicate Hoplite’s monotone “But you still can’t use it.”

Hollim stared at the rifle, dropping it to the ground. He raised his chin to glare at her but his anger turned to fear as something from behind Lance caught his attention. Lance furrowed her brow and looked behind her to see the massive form of Gali marching straight for Hollim, his eyes conveying wrath unlike anything she had ever seen. He was still clad in his armor, the plates gleaming in the sunlight as he stomped over toward Hollim, who fell back on his rear as the larger man began to loom over him, casting a wide shadow that engulfed the smaller fellow.

“Hollim…” Gali said in a surprisingly calm tone “That. was. it.”

Hollim shook his head “No sir!” He shouted in a pleading tone, looking to his three friends for support.

They looked away from him with shamed looks on their faces, and despair filled Hollim’s eyes as he looked back up to Gali.

“Please! You no understand what happened!” He shouted “It was the faekin whore! She threatened to kill me!”

Protests from the crowd rose then, shouting accounts of what actually happened to Gali as he continued to loom, his face a mask of false calm. Lance could still see from those eyes of his though that Gali was filled with pure unadulterated odium.

“I saw the commotion and came to investigate what do be occurring. What I see is you, trying to beat on a woman; a watcher yes, but a woman nonetheless. After she humiliated you, instead of taking your defeat like a man, you did take the coward’s route and tried to kill her; the hero’s friend, with the hero’s own weapons.” Gali said, his huge fists clenched hard enough for his knuckles to turn white “Ungrateful wretch. You’ve always been a pain to this community, ever since you did get sent here from Grayshane. I did think you could change your ways, I see now that this do be an impossibility. This no be your first infraction. It will be your last though, Hollim.” Gali said, again in a seemingly calm tone.

Hope seemed to fill Hollim’s eyes as he stood from the grass “So… you do be giving me one more chance?”

Gali’s hand shot out like a viper, gripping Hollim’s neck and snapping it with a quick jerk. Hollim’s eyes glassed over quickly as Gali glared into those dying orbs. Lance stared in shock… Gali was far stronger than any man she had seen to be able to snap a bull-neck like that… save for Hoplite of course. After the deed was done, Gali tossed the foaming corpse aside with a curse and turned to stare anger at the crowd.

“You all did not but stare as this… this carnival took place! What a joke!” Gali shouted, a vein popping on his forehead as the crowd visibly flinched away from him “I did also hear about your intent with the Starfallen from one of my defenders! As of today, I adopt this starfallen as my tenth son!” Gali shouted angrily, drawing gasps of shock from the crowd as their eyes bulged “If you harm him, your souls be damned for my wrath will split your bones and boil your blood! Begone!” Gali shouted, picking up small pebbles and throwing them at the now quickly retreating crowd.

They all fled into the campsite with pained moans whenever a pebble found their rear ends, all steering clear of the medical tent as they went. The mayor’s face had gone beet red during his tirade, and seemed to turn even more crimson as he turned on the three men who stared dumbfounded at the twitching corpse of Hollim.

“Do you want to end up like this fool!?” He shouted at them, causing all three men to flinch away with fear.

“N-no sir!” The man who tried to grab the gun earlier shouted “We no wanted to hurt the watcher, we just wanted the bag!”

“Thieves!” Gali shouted, strutting up and grabbing the scruff of the man's neck.

Lance stared in bafflement as Gali then… he put the big fellow over his knee and began spanking him as a father would a naughty child! The size difference between the two helped with the visualization. Gali’s eyes were still wrathful all throughout the beating. After the walloping was done for all three men (none had tried to escape Gali) the mayor wiped a thick sheen of sweat from his brow.

“You do be assigned rubble duty, you are to be given no food for two days during your work. Let that be a lesson learned for following fools like this!” Gali shouted “Now go dig a shallow grave for this wretch!” He finished, pointing to the corpse “And by Zodd don’t let me see you for the rest of the day! Else I may just turn you over me knee again!

The men didn’t complain as they began hauling away Hollim’s corpse, occasionally reaching back to nurse their sore backsides as they dragged the body to somewhere far off. Gali then crossed his big arms over his chest and huffed, sweat pouring down his still red face. Lance almost felt like she was about to be punished next. Well, she wasn’t about to let that happen.

“You no needed to agitate the fool that way.” Gali told her in a stern voice “Gloating do not be necessary when you’ve attained victory watcher. You do best to keep that in mind in the future.” He finished, bending over to pick up the rifles to stow them away in Hoplite’s bag.

Lance considered for a brief moment before sighing.

“You are right… But he had made me so…” She said, her words trailing off.

“Never had I seen an elf with a temper like that. Let alone a watcher of the Faewood! Let the steam out of your head before you lose it.” Gali told her as he tied the bag shut, throwing it up over his shoulder and making way for the medical tent “I’m guessing the hero do be in there with my new son, let’s go.”

Lance stared after his broad form as he began walking, the burlap sack bouncing off the plate of his back with little clangs of metal on metal, the sound barely muffled by the cloth between them. She found herself wondering what all this ‘tenth son’ business was all about. Lance shook her head, she’d find out about that later… right now… She chided herself for her gloating. Gali was absolutely right and he couldn’t be even a third of her age! It was immature and stupid of her to act that way… it brought shame to the watchers.

Lancela would do better in the future, she would.

 

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