Butcher of Gadobhra Chapter 349 (Patreon)

Helga picked up Tiberius, set him atop the fence, and whispered, "Give 'em hell!"

Tiberius balanced on top of the picket fence, a difficult task when wearing your 'before breakfast' slippers. The older bankers on his side of the fence were angry because of his interference and trampling over protocol. The Fae were in an uproar, although what they were threatening to do was always the question. But he was a Banker from a strong family and had been raised well. He knew his customer was in need of his services and needed him to prevail. Sometimes, it was as simple as that in the perilous occupation of Banking.

"Fellow gnomes, Lords and Ladies of the Fae, and my cherished customers: You all want the same things. You want a peaceful solution to this situation, steps taken to limit further problems, and a clear way forward to further profit. This is one of the first rules of Banking, and it applies here. War is costly, and only a few profit."

"No one wishes to see beautiful lands of the Fae burnt and destroyed by Primordial Iron. It was Duchess Midnight that forced the hand of Ozzy to do such a thing. I will not belabor the sordid details that you know to be true. The problem now is control of the artifacts. Yes, they could be dumped into the Void. But the problem isn't gone, just delayed. The Void is not empty, and the creatures living there are powerful. When the Sword and Halo reappear, they won't be dumped on the ground; they will be wielded, and you don't know by who!"

"Far better that the items are placed where no one can get them without agreement. I propose that Ozzy, the Butcher of Sedgewick, open a separate account with me and that King Oberon and Lawyer Coppertwist as co-signers. The artifacts will be encased in protective material to ensure no living thing touches them or can be tempted by them. Nothing in the account may be withdrawn without the signatures of all three. This guarantees the safety of the Fae Realm, enriches the Gnomish Kingdom, and gives the Butcher a bit of peace without assassins attacking at all hours trying to steal the artifacts."

"The second problem is the third artifact that contains the soul of Duchess Midnight. While I know she is well-loved by many of her peers, and it is harsh news to think of her not being here to offer her wise advice on every aspect of the court, she has committed crimes against no less than a Gnomish prince and Gnomish justice demands that she be punished. What I propose is a similar solution to the Halo and Sword. An account shall be opened between Suzette, the Lonely Barmaid, King Oberon, and Prince Ragothorn. The Soul Prison will be sealed in protective material so she may not tempt someone to free her. It would be best if she were never able to talk to anyone at all! If the three co-signers finally decide to allow her pardon, they may do so. I believe Prince Ragothorn would prefer a sentence of Forever plus 99 years, but the three co-signers can discuss this matter."

"The last item is the safe travel and neutrality of the mortals and part-mortals whom Duchess Midnight assaulted in such a villainous fashion, breaking all the rules of Courtesy. If she paid a price, she brought it upon herself, and all must agree the matter to be over. Indeed, the first two solutions make this possible, but without the third, the first two will not happen."

"I am here, Ladies and Gentlemen. My services as Banker of the Silver Ranked Royal Gnomish Bank of Sedgewick are at your disposal." He bowed to both sides and hopped down from the fence. His hands shook as he reached into his coat pocket for a butterscotch candy to steady his nerves, and he was inspired to pull out two and hand one to Miss Helga, who happily accepted.

Oberon was silent. "There is some wisdom in your words. I will consult with my advisors. I strongly warn those on my side of the fence to refrain from any actions while I do so."

Prince Ragothorn looked thoughtful. "And I will take counsel with my advisors as well."

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The mortals and near-mortals at the storm's center elected to sit on the ground and take a break. Squirmie was snoring on Rolly's lap, and Ben watched both war councils while grooming his horse. Ozzy was lying on his back with his bag for a pillow and an arm around Suzette. For her part, the Barmaid felt much better, but she still wished that the talking and posturing were over.

"Dammit, I just want to go home, take a bath, and eat a meal that isn't a muffin."

"It will be over soon, one way or another." Rolly didn't seem bothered by the situation. "We've got friends on both sides of the fence and control the WMDs. Plus, we have our Banker and Lawyer here."

Ozzy thought about that. "True, we could deposit all of our stuff with Tiberius. That takes the sting out of death. How long would it take you to get us out of Hell, Rolly?"

Ben shook a finger at him. "Tut, tut, Ozymandias. Please use the proper names. Hades' realm is appropriately named Hades. The part Rolly likes to visit is known as Tartarus. I think there is a Hell where the devils and demons rule, also a Hel in Norse mythology. But, thankfully, neither of those grabs us when we die painfully."

Rolly nodded in agreement. "A week, maybe less? I've found some good shortcuts. You should all visit Tartarus with me. Great training for many things, and some unique people there. It will broaden your horizons. The poison training alone is worth it. He had a small pile of the Silverthorn berries next to him and was slowly chewing on them. "These berries are great, by the way, Suzie. You should make some jam out of them. Spread it on muffins and feed them to annoying players."

"Don't mention muffins. Even with Tastes Like Steak, I got sick of them. Her recipe sucks. The texture was grainy and dry. I need cake, chocolate, and a good cup of coffee right now." On the far side of the fence, where the lesser fae had their shops and tents, her words were carried to a family of brownies who were serving tea and cakes. A half dozen of them ran around excitedly, putting together platters. Within a minute, they were weaving through the crowd, careful to avoid spills, and approached the fence. As usual, the Fae Lords ignored everything they did. Three of the pickets came loose at the bottom and flipped up, creating a door. The small creatures, only two feet tall, walked through and, before anyone noticed, were placing a large slice of cake before each of the mortals, along with a pot of tea, a samovar of coffee, a dish of small raspberry candies, and another of salted nuts.

They stepped back, formed a line, and bowed deeply. "For the Lady's pleasure and that of her guests. Clan Brindleberry is at your service." They took one step back and became silent, hands clasped behind their backs.

Suzette didn't hesitate to take a bite. "Cake! I love the little candy decorations. This is so good." She took three quick bites, her eyes closing briefly as she appreciated the taste.

Ben hesitated. "Um...Fae rules? Food? Is it safe?"

Suzette looked at his piece of cake enviously. "I should lie and say it isn't just so I can steal your cake, but it's fine. These cute little guys are lesser fae. They don't pull the scams the greater Fae are known for." She looked each one in the eye. "The cake is wonderful, and I appreciate the thoughtfulness of you bringing it to me."

They all tried not to smile, but it was obvious that her words pleased them. The smallest and bravest found her courage to speak. "We are hopeful that you find us useful."

Suzette took another bite of cake and waved her fork at the plate. "Cake like this is always welcome." Now, the clan of brownies smiled broadly. They raced for the fence, laughing all the way back to their tents, and began to pack their things.

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Senior Appraiser Billingswort scowled and muttered in his beard. "I don't know what got into that nephew of yours, Coppertwist. He's put us in a real bind. With a few quick maneuvers, we could have grabbed the prizes and retreated to Cinderstein without having to haggle and negotiate. What in all the hells is he up, and how did he get that level-headed young lass to go along with his crazy scheme?"

Only one other gnome seemed to agree with his statement. Prince Ragothorn was deep in thought, but Lawyer Coppertwist turned, and the temperature dropped twenty degrees in half a second. He looked at Billingswort and...raised an eyebrow. The force of the blow sent the banker to his knees and cleared the area around him for ten feet as everyone else backed off.

"I don't like your tone, Mr. Billingswort, not at all. Firstly, I do not control the actions of my nephew. Indeed, it would be quite inappropriate as I represent the client in legal matters and he in financial matters. Separation of powers, Mr. Billingswort, is an essential rule of our society and one I do not take lightly. Secondly, he was first on the scene and primary contact! Yet you ignored his analysis of the event solely because of his perceived youth. I will remind you he is the youngest Silver Level Banker on record."

"He has not put us in a bind; he has given us time to talk, plan, and given us options. He understands his customers and their needs. Also, some of the strange things about them. If you live in Sedgewick, you see some things." He allowed the stunned appraiser to regain his feet and turned to Prince Ragothorn. "I advise we go with this plan. It has the least chance of leading to war and a loss of income to the Kingdom and brings in several very large deposits."

The prince laughed. "And you'll get to write up a spiffy treaty between the two kingdoms and score some hefty experience."

The Lawyer bowed. "And there is that. The celebratory dinners are making me fat, and I look forward to another."

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Oberon sat thinking as his advisors spoke. Lord Argyle argued for a charge to overwhelm the few gnomes and mortals and a quick slaughter followed by a lovely party. There was more argument over where to host the party than on the consequences of starting a war. But the talk did produce a result. The Beast Knights, one and all excepting the injured prince, lined up across the fence facing away from the gnomes and declaring their intent to challenge anyone who, as the Fox Prince put it, "Doesn't something so stupid as to piss us off." It was a stern reminder that questing in the mortal realms had warped the Knight's sense of humor and made them easy to anger and less likely to find amusement in clever shenanigans. Oberon nodded to them and approved of their actions. Lord Argyle departed quickly.

There was much argument about how to manipulate things for the most gain. Oberon noted that some of his advisors, such as the Purple Sages, were cautioning the more headstrong from hasty actions. They'd just spent centuries on a bookshelf and would like to enjoy life before making it 'Interesting' again. Gombindle sat silently and unhappy at the end of the table.

Oberon walked down to him and slightly inclined his head. "What thoughts trouble you?"

The goblin sighed, then stood up. "Perhaps it is my perspective as a lesser fae. We don't look at complicated situations and think about the best outcome; we look at the other end and think about the worst. We have no realms that we can retreat to when things go bad, and the gold ring will be taken by one of the high and mighty. We know that. So we minimize risk and try to make a profit to feed our families." He paused and looked around at the assembled Lords and Ladies, puffing out his chest and glaring at them. "And I see a lot of risk sitting on the other side of that fence. Death for thousands of lesser fae and some very unhappy Realms that will burn brightly as war marches through." He grabbed a bottle of wine, put his feet on the table, and glared at all of them. There were some chuckles and nods, but few agreed with him.

Oberon mused. "And what is the worst that can happen?" He wasn't expecting an immediate answer but got one anyway.

The Sphynx stood up, reminding everyone at the table of her position in the pecking order. "War with the gnomes and all of their allies. Some of whom will surprise you. War with the Baron of Gadobhra and the Summer Lord will be the first to fall to the axes of his people. The human Empire may join him. There is much dissent, and the Emperor may seek to quell internal problems with an external enemy. Pirates from the Smoke will drop into your skies, bringing with them the worst of the Cyclones, eager for a new playground. The Engine will sense epic stories to write, and the System will give the hordes of players quests to fight on either side. But this is not the worst that might happen should things go very wrong."

Quite a few people became silent. Oberon cast a spell, summoning the dreaded Cone of Silence. Only he, the goblin, and the Sphynx could speak freely and hear what was said. "Tell me the worst."

The goblin whispered. "The Butcher."

The Sphynx nodded. "The Butcher. The other mortals all lead to paths that would surprise you. The House of Franklin would be a terrible foe, matching the Fae in trickery. The Shepherd is friends with creatures of Legend who are getting restless. I would march with him. The Barmaid spent months in Midnight's Library. She read all of her books and freed the slaves. The people that would flock to her banner could turn the war against you and put a dread queen upon your throne."

"And the Butcher?"

"The Barmaid, his love, is the key to the Butcher. He will move the heavens to protect her. But would do worse to avenge her. There is a future where she is slain, and he becomes angry. He claims the Sword and Halo for his own and becomes something else. Something terrible. Armies of Light and Dark flock to his banner, led by the remaining Fallen. The World burns as he makes everyone pay."

Gombindle had finished his bottle and grabbed another, a vintage several centuries his senior. "That sort of bad."

Oberon took a deep breath. "I see your points. It is good to contemplate the worst and take it into account." The spell was released.

"I have made my decision. Let us go and talk to the gnomes and make peace with them and the mortals. Summon the scribes. Lord Alwyn, walk with me, and you as well, Lord Gombindle."

The goblin looked around him for who the king was talking to, eyes going big as reality set in, and then ran to take his place behind the king and next to Lord Alwyn. His proud wife-to-be appeared next to him and took his arm.