Company Unknown 5, page 48
To say they were excited to see me the next morning was an understatement. Dink didn’t even have a sarcastic statement or prank to throw my way. Metric was her old, level self. That could have meant thrilled, angry, or indifferent. Her additional duties related to the town’s administration meant she did see me more often anyway.
Unfortunately, the mission board in the Hall was somewhat bare. Our Gaelkini hirelings were a bit too good at their jobs. That had made my other role as town leader a lot easier, but now I was paying the price.
We spent a longer than usual debating which mission to take. I drew the discussion out with counterarguments just to make it last. I really missed these guys and the job. In the end, we picked something I would have shied away from due to its difficulty and potential complexities. They were going to get their mileage out of my one-mission promise, and so was I.
Though I’d said there were no other inhabitants near our town, that wasn’t strictly true. It wasn’t a lie either. Several communities nearby blurred the lines between monster and civilized. Our targets were one such group.
The pukwudgies were a bunch of ankle-high people related to pixies and sprites. They lived in small grass huts on the borders of swamps and other wetlands. As they were friendly and peaceful on the surface, many communities were initially happy to find them as neighbors. That welcome soured, however, when people started to go missing. The smart pukwudgies focused on travelers instead of locals, but even those would eventually get greedy or just make a mistake. Mischief was in their blood and they couldn’t keep it in forever, like they couldn’t help spilling the blood of anyone foolish enough to follow them for a promised treat or pile of treasure.
In short (no pardon on the pun), pukwudgies were everything I hated most in a monster contract: small, fast, clever, and could turn invisible. I’d partially chosen the mission because the pickings were so slim, but I’d also selected it for how time consuming and unpleasant it was likely to be. That combination would make it seem longer and the memory stick harder. I wanted to get my money’s worth from this one mission. Wasn’t going to be seeing very many anymore.
After sending a messenger off to let Gristlefrocket know I’d be gone for a while, we were off. I stuck a cloak over myself and bent low to disguise my height before we moved through the gate. Though I was the one in charge and could therefore go wherever I wanted, if anyone saw me, they’d pester me with questions “that only I could answer” or bug me in some other way. Being in charge was supposed to give me the power to tell other people what to do, not for them to ask me everything. At least a few got a little more nervous around me. One day I’d even get a cower or two. Today was the opposite; I wasn’t technically cowering, but it looked the same.
At least my squad was kind enough not to call me on that, though probably because it would draw attention. If I got stopped, so did they. Viper had even taken it upon herself to keep Dink too busy to play one of his patented “pranks.” He probably had a snide comment or two, but no one could understand him through his panting. Once we were clear of the watchmen on the walls, I’d ask where she’d gotten that much extra gear to slap on him. Dink really should have thanked her. Not only was he getting some of that extra training out of the way, she was also saving him from earning more. I had no doubt that once we stopped he’d more than make up for the lack of punishment. Was kind of looking forward to it.
“Metric, which way is the pukwudgie village?” I asked.
The tepu blinked once and pointed straight ahead.
“What a coincidence,” I said as I limbered up after no longer needing to hunch.
“Is not coincidence. Protocol say to take shortest route.”
“One of these days, you’re going to have to tell me all about those protocols of yours.” I started to whistle. It was jaunty, just like how I wanted to feel.
“Have time now. What order go in?”
“One of these days . . .” I whistled louder.
My act drew a slight chuckle. I took it to be my squad humoring me, like they always did, but I noticed hints of nervousness from everyone except Lyre and Metric. The tiny dhampir was beaming a smile so big you could see her entire fangs, but only when she thought I couldn’t see. Metric was at her familiar combination of seeming indifference and incredible focus. Every time Dink “dropped” one of the extra pauldrons strapped to his back, it didn’t even reach halfway to the ground before she’d scooped it up and slid it back into the pile.
“Madcap,” I finally said before the silence engulfed me. “How’s that fiancée of yours?”
The dogman nearly fell over Something. The blonde woman would have shoved him down in the other direction if my question hadn’t finally sank in to her as well.
“I, uh,” Madcap said. “We got married last month, sir. Metric said she gave you the invitation but you—that is to say . . .”
Embarrassed, I spun toward the tepu to deflect the blame.
Metric blinked once. “When first shipment of potion go out. You say ‘Nothing will make me miss this. Not even the birth of my first child.’”
“That was hyperbole! You should have reminded me about the wedding.”
The tepu’s beak flapped open like she was about to talk but stopped. Her eyes were focused on something behind me, but when I turned nothing was there. No one’s expression gave signs of what that might be about. Owl looked unsure and a tad nervous, but a longer stare at him produced no clues. Vex fiddled with his spectacle. Watcher was as impassive as ever. She’d evidently discovered lipstick, though she still needed some practice at applying it. Something crossed her arms and met my look head-on, daring me to challenge her. I might come back to her if no one else gave anything. A bug flew up Madcap’s nose, stealing his attention and the chance I’d get anything out of him, not that it mattered. Like Lyre, his attention had been in the opposite direction before anyway. Dink, however, had been fully focused on everything that could happen. Ironically, he was saved from revealing what he knew by the weight of his extra gear. The sole expression he could muster was a pained wince. Viper tried a similar tack to Something’s but went for a more level, even look—a little more Metric, if anything.
My eyes flipped from the tepu—who added a blink—back to Viper. With me being gone most of the time and Metric not a lot more present, the naga had become the unofficial leader of the group. I had never told the rest of the company, but I’d always planned on giving Viper her own squad if we ever got a second one, or giving her this one with me vacating the squad leader role to remain only company commander. They evidently hadn’t needed to be told that; the squad had just accepted her. Even Metric, evidently. Somehow the tepu was now deferring to Viper, though she barely listened to me.
Was this another one of those protocols? Did I even care? Viper becoming a leader was what I wanted, but I also wanted it to be my idea. I did like being contrary. Keep them guessing so they don’t get comfortable. But my squad was already uncomfortable. I’d left them, admittedly for more important things, but left them all the same. And Viper had been there to pick up the pieces. With a little extra intensity to let the naga know I knew it was her who’d stopped Metric, I spun away and resumed our journey—and then turned left when Metric “helpfully” reminded me where our target was.
After the right amount of uncomfortable silence, I tried again. “Did I miss any other weddings? Owl, did you marry a werewolf?”
The brown-haired human’s already wide eyes expanded to almost half his face. “What? No, I haven’t even—”
“Been trying to get him laid for weeks, Commander,” Something said. “But he still hasn’t—”
“Found the right woman. And that’s certainly not going to be a werewolf. Why would you think I’d ever want one of those, sir?”
“Figured that fluff on your lip was an early sign of a new moon coming. Or is that just dust?” I pretended to reach for his face.
Owl’s scowl only made the laughter increase.
“What are you giggling about, Something?” I asked.
The redheaded woman gave me the finger. Even more laughter followed, with hers being the loudest.
Though the slight tension was still there, it slowly began to ease. I’d opened a can of worms that no great monster-hunting company could escape. We insulted each other as much as we did our enemies, but in a good-natured way. The kind that came from respect and knowing your companions. We knew each other’s strengths, weaknesses, and personalities too well. We were a family with the most stressful of jobs, and this was our relief in the wild. In town, away from danger, we drank—and out here, near constant danger, we traded insults.
Besides tossing in an occasional easy insult to remind them I was there, I just listened, and in doing so learned. Watcher, for example, spent most of her free time playing with the orphans we had in abundance in our town. The only thing stranger than the stoic, quiet verg doing that was that Dink usually went with her. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of the sticky-fingered, naughty-mouthed wood elf teaching his ways to children, but if anyone could bring a smile to their faces it was him. We all needed plenty of smiles about now. I just had to make sure he wasn’t directing their fun toward me.
By the time we arrived at the outskirts of the pukwudgie village, it was almost like it had been before. All comfort and ease until Metric had to ruin our fun by getting us in order so we wouldn’t get killed. So rude. When the surprise at finding Viper assisting the tepu wore off, I didn’t feel quite as annoyed. Helped a lot that she’d got all the extra equipment we’d piled on Dink off while still managing to corral him into the correct place in the formation without a single argument or distraction.
Considering what we knew of the pukwudgies, I decided the best way to approach them was not to go storming in with weapons out and in full formation. The reports said they’d always be friendly at first unless attacked. We’d turn their own plans against them. I mentioned that sage advice to Lyre—without adding Mom had taught it to me—and it worked like a charm. The small dhampir lapped up every word and nodded thoughtfully. Clearly, it was because she had an awesome teacher, unlike I’d had.
I considered taking the dhampir with me into the village but was afraid the pukwudgies might sense the magic, bloodthirsty half of her and take that as aggression. Instead, I took Metric . . . no, Viper with me. She’d need this kind of experience for when she became the official squad leader in the distant future.
I expected our opponents to look close to a brownie, who were a caricature of a peasant from the Middle Ages, in floppy hats, pointy shoes, and simple clothes. While the pukwudgies weren’t quite that, I could certainly see the resemblance. The hillbilly (or I guess swamp-billy) cousin of brownies was a pretty apt description. Long, scraggily hair, battered leather shorts, and complete indifference to “No shirt, no shoes, no service” signs everywhere. With that getup and their brown-to-gray coloring, it almost seemed a waste for them to have invisibility as a power. They’d have no problem camouflaging themselves in their mucky surroundings. Maybe their ability used mana or had a timer, forcing them to resort to more mundane forms of hiding as well. It would have been nice if we had more complete information on them, but pukwudgies were rare and such a hassle that everyone usually avoided the few missions that involved them.
One of their number approached me in just as casual a way as I was affecting. Enough of the rest stayed where they were and watched to make a less observant person oblivious to the fact that many others were scurrying into the foliage. Behind my back, I gave the hand signal to Metric’s Tiny Eye floating above so that she would relay it to Owl. His Eagle Eye would follow those who’d moved away. It was a good thing that ability could see through nearly any object. The swamp behind their village provided tons of easy places to set ambushes. With luck, enough of them would rely on their natural camouflage and not their invisibility for Owl to follow them.
“Greetings, traveler,” the bespectacled pukwudgie said from a few feet away. “What brings you to our humble village? We may not have much, but we would love to share what we have with such a fine duo as you.”
I’d decided on the dumbest persona I could think of, in the hopes of getting their guard down. “Uhn. Adventurer Guild say there be treasure this way. They send Mighty Ham to find. We in Dergenstein, yes?”
The pukwudgie scratched his shaggy head. A few dead beetles fell out. “I think it’s . . . yes, that’s where you are. And I know exactly where that treasure is. I’d be more than happy to guide you.”
“Ham say this sound good. Me protect tiny man from all dangers.”
The pukwudgie blinked a few times before remembering himself. Looking over his shoulder, one of the others shook her head at him. “Perhaps, we can interest you in a hearty meal first. The swamp is treacherous and difficult terrain.”
I leaned down and growled in his face. “Take Ham now. Nothing too treacherous for bravest of adventurer.”
Viper’s cool palm grabbed a shoulder. “Perhaps it might be wise to talk of the dangers we might face first. My stomach is growling as well . . . mighty Ham.”
Though anger reigned on my face when I spun toward her, it was gone once I was no longer in the view of the pukwudgies. The naga quickly signaled with her fingers that the others were moving to a new position. There wasn’t time for elaboration without making our enemy suspicious. I had to trust the squad. I didn’t hesitate to look back after tossing a few curses at her for show.
“Ham have stew now,” I said to the pukwudgie. “But quick. Adventure as impatient as is Mighty Ham.”
“It’s not really a . . .” The pukwudgie representative turned back toward his cohorts but finally shrugged as they set a nice sandwich in front of me.
I didn’t question the fact that it was about the least stew-like food you could imagine. I did question how a sandwich could give off a stench so strong it nearly knocked me out from two feet away. “Ham the Adventurer,” though, questioned nothing. To him, the only way past an obstacle was through it, and this sandwich needed to be run through so he could get to his nonexistent treasure. In one bite, the moldy bread and poisoned meat flew into my mouth.
Using my Item Relocation ability on it before it touched my tongue was my goal. Would have been a good idea to test that the ability worked on something not currently touching me. But when have forethought and best practices ever been considerations? Wouldn’t be a proper me mission if I changed something big like that. The squad needed vintage Mer and not some goody-two-shoes version who thought things out and did them the “right way.”
And just like the old me, this somehow worked and did not blow up in my face (or more accurately, my digestive system). Instead of the sandwich, something from my pouch landed inside my mouth. Unfortunately, the pouch did not hold food or snacks like I’d thought but a tarlike substance I once used to polish my hammer. But, hey, at least it wasn’t poisonous, though the tacky taste made me wish it was.
The pukwudgies, however, did not know of the switch. Instead, they thought I was some adventurer too stupid to realize he should be dead. I was not going to dissuade them of that notion.
I let out a loud belch and turned slowly to Viper. “Oops. Me forget to ask if you wants some. Small peoples have seconds?”
The lead pukwudgie blinked in silence for nearly a minute before glancing back. If I’d been even a tenth as dumb as I was pretending, I would have missed that he was not looking at his closest compatriot but toward the foliage far behind her.
“We, uh, do not have any more here, but we should have some ready before we get you to the treasure,” he said. “Come with me.”
While he waddled toward a path, his last companions rushed out of view in the opposite direction. Though I didn’t have Eagle Eye, it was an easy guess that we’d find their entire village waiting in ambush before we found any treasure. Given their skills and abilities, I figured even if the squad did their best to prepare a counter surprise for them, they’d be ready for it—but despite that advantage of theirs, I had no doubt we’d still win. Either way, this was going to be fun. What happens in a game of cat and mouse when the cat’s a little slow? He just has to claw harder. If you’re big and bad enough, it doesn’t matter how much the other side has outplayed you. Sometimes it’s more fun to let the other guy spring his trap just so you can watch his face when you still win. And win we would. I could almost hear the squeaks of dying pukwudgies. Still, I wouldn’t count my experience points before I earned them.
After a brief meeting of eyes to make sure I wasn’t trying to signal an adjustment to our plan, Viper followed me. The naga slid back a little to get more range for her bow, but otherwise looked just as casual as I did. We were two overconfident adventurers walking into what we thought was easy profit. To all the world—and pukwudgies—we appeared to think we could easily take on anything in this piddly swamp that had the misfortune to wander into our path. Danger beware! Ham and unnamed friend were on the case.
Our pukwudgie guide led us on a very circuitous route. It would have been obvious to all except Ham the Obtuse that he was leading us into a trap. We passed the same rock seven times, for crying out loud! When the first blow dart or tiny arrow flew toward us from nowhere, I made it look like my hammer accidentally swung in the right direction to splatter the unfortunate source of that barb.
Of course, Dimensional Shift ensured I could see an outline of all who’d unwisely chosen to use their invisibility. The others who resorted to more mundane hiding and cover were a little harder to locate, but since I was a tad smarter than they’d assumed, I held the element of surprise. Having Viper’s keen marksman’s eyes by my side helped a lot too.
After the fifth “accidental” attack and unexplained death of our ambushers, our guide became suspicious. By that point, the rest of the squad was in sight. They were already under attack, so we just abandoned our cover to make a beeline for them. Their shield wall was airtight except for the two seconds it took for Viper and me to slide inside.
