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1.50 In Which the Dark Lord is Just Getting Started
🕑 Added 2021-07-20 01:41:36 +0000 UTCIt was easily my best landing so far, which wasn’t much to brag about considering how many shingles I’d crashed into and through in the last few minutes. Thanks to the Surestep Boots I hit the ground in a perfect roll and came up on my feet, neat as a professional stunt actor. All the impacts and near-misses recently had helped; after taking enough fatal injuries to fell a platoon this night alone I was pretty sanguine about stepping off a roof into a two-story drop to hard pavement. The ongoing adrenaline high didn’t hurt, either.
I landed in what was clearly the bedraggled end of a battle. The good news was that I could see at a glance we’d won. The bad was… Looking around, I found myself questioning whether anybody ever “won” a battle. Bodies lay everywhere; blood splattered the street and the walls, the stench of it hung in the air, along with the fouler smell of excrement—evidence of human intestines having been slashed open.
For a span of three seconds, I stood there, paralyzed by the horror of the spectacle, and my own sudden feeling of helpless uncertainty what I could do. The last of the armed men I could see were in the process of slipping away into various alleys. A vengeful corner of my mind wanted to shoot them in the back, war crimes be damned, but I didn’t conjure a single Slimeshot.
Then Aster appeared from the crowd of bloodied women surrounding the space in front of the Alley Cat, her oversized sword held at her side instead of braced across her shoulder like she usually kept it. No doubt because its blade was dripping with blood. I could see that most of the nearest corpses were her work, to judge by the huge wounds marring them.
Apparently bisecting people like I’d seen her do that one time required some fairly specific circumstances to align, but even so, that thing could take off heads with trivial ease, and even when it didn’t the damage it caused was catastrophic. I could see, now, how this situation had been the opposite of Aster’s clumsy duel with Arider’s bodyguard back when we’d first come to town: Cat Alley made a space of the perfect size, giving her exactly the room needed to swing the greatsword in wide arcs while funneling her opponents into inescapable rows. They must’ve gone down like she was scything wheat.
Her appearance, and the small but visible sigh of relief she let out at the sight of me, made my brain snap back into focus. People were hurt, all around me. I knew what to do about that, it was my whole shtick.
Heal!
Pink light burst around a woman leaning weakly against a wall, clutching a bloody patch on her side. There were more all around; I held the spell in the forefront of my brain, casting as rapidly as I could focus my eyes on anybody.
Heal, Heal, Heal, Heal Heal Heal Heal HealHealHealHealHealHealHeal…
My god, they were everywhere. I started walking forward to reach more, my pace rapidly increasing till I was at a near run, pausing only to check down alleys with a quick Light Beam and occasionally finding people in need.
Increasingly frantic, I didn’t discriminate, trying to get everyone. Some of Lady Gray’s fallen forces got a free healing and I didn’t have time to begrudge them. Sometimes I would miss a beat when I tried to cast Heal on an unmoving woman but the spell didn’t react. You can’t Heal the dead. Each time I pressed on. I couldn’t stop to deal with that, not when my help was needed. Once I let myself really feel that guilt there was no telling how long it’d be before I was any use to anyone again.
“If you’re healed up and able to move, we need help!” Aster called aloud as she paced along at my side, back in bodyguard mode now that I had switched from offensive to healing magic and was fully occupied. Bodyguard, with a hint of administrator. “Check inside buildings and down alleys, look behind the brothels and don’t forget the canals! Find the wounded who aren’t out on the street! If they can be moved, bring them out here; if not, yell until we get to you. The Healer is working as fast as he can!”
It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. As it should have been. These women had gone up against roughly their number in hardened thugs, unarmored and wielding nothing but improvised weapons and curses. I didn’t see a single one uninjured, though they’d done surprisingly well, to judge by how many only had relatively minor wounds.
As I rushed from one end of the street to the other, the women organized around me, mostly centering on Gannit and some of the less successful madams and veteran prostitutes who had some experience in herding their comrades into line. By the time Aster and I had made one breakneck triage circuit, more victims had been brought forward from the systematic search of the brothels. Only some of the fighting had spilled indoors, but there it had been bloodiest, usually amounting to one side cornering one or a few members of the other. The second pass was slower, though I kept my feet moving as rapidly as they could. We had to divert into the brothels at which the search parties flagged me down, dashing to the rescue of women too badly mangled to make it outside. Several times Aster slipped on blood, trying to keep up with me, but my artifact boots kept me going.
I saw some truly horrible things in there. The really sick part, though, was that I didn’t see anything worse than I’d encountered as a result of Cat Alley’s business as usual. Just…a lot of it, at once.
Maybe that was why these women were able to stay active and quickly organize themselves; as far as I could tell, nobody was as close as I felt to breaking from the sheer stress of it. Seeing that, I pushed myself to keep going. If they could tough it out, so could I.
Our final route was the slowest, due to involving a lot of improvised surgery. A number of the women I had hastily Healed now had crossbow bolts, knives, and bits of glass sealed in their skin; those had to be cut out and Healed again. I was amazed at how little complaining resulted from this. Some had to bite down on strips of leather or wads of cloth, as they were carefully cut into, but nobody even blamed me. They were accustomed to pain around here.
During this last, ugliest phase, Madyn joined my side as designated surgeon. For as squeamish as she’d been back at the Jugs about killing that guy, she sure didn’t shy away from blood or taking a blade to flesh. Well, good on her. At this point I could only envy someone who could still hold onto principles like that. A rotating circle of girls brought her water and pungent alcohol to repeatedly clean the kitchen knife she was using to cut debris out of victims’ skin. Given that Heal would annihilate any infection as easily as it did an axe wound, that may not have been strictly necessary, but I was sufficiently impressed that these medieval peasants understood the importance of sterilization that I didn’t say anything to dissuade them.
When I finished, it was sudden. I hadn’t been looking ahead or trying to guess how close we were to the end. I just Healed the fresh wound Madyn had cut in a woman’s arm to extract a crossbow bolt, looked for the next victim, and…there wasn’t one.
Standing there, looking around to verify this, I found my view of the street wavering. What was…oh, I was actually swaying on my feet. That was odd. Oh, well, the boots would…
“Okay, now it’s your turn,” Gannit ordered, taking my other arm. Aster had grabbed the left one, I blearily realized. She was probably the reason I hadn’t fallen down. “Back to the Jugs, we gotta get some sustenance into you.”
“I’m—”
“Boy, you know what’s nice about you being able to heal literally anything?” the old madame said lightly as she led me away. “If you try to stand there and tell me you’re ‘fine,’ I get to smack you as hard as yo deserve for once. It’s damn well refreshing, most men are such delicate creatures. Now come on, you’ve done your job and several other people’s tonight. Ahp! Shut it, I’m in no mood for backtalk. Left foot, right foot, there we go.”
***
Turned out I didn’t care for what they called blood tea. Whatever it was made from made it a deep crimson in color, with little shifting swirls of black particulate matter on top; fortunately it was actually tea, the liquid not nearly as thick as blood, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to get it down after as much of the real thing as I’d seen tonight. Also, it had a deep bitter taste, which was compensated for by more whatever the Fflyr put in their tea to make it spicy and sweet. If I ever needed my sinuses cleared out in a hurry (and for some reason couldn’t cast Heal) I now knew how to get that done.
But whatever else it was, blood tea seemed to have at least as much caffeine as the same volume of coffee. After two cups, a mug of water and some crawn stew, I was improved from being as exhausted as I had ever been in my life (and dreading the hike back to North Watch) to feeling…well, functional.
Gannit set me up in her common room, which seemed to be the new de facto administrative center of the whores’ revolution. I was tucked away in a corner table being hovered protectively over by Aster, Sakin, Donon, Kastrin and Adelly. Gilder was holding court in another, brashly flirting with several prostitutes who had clearly chosen to find him amusing rather than offensive. I made a mental note to have a talk with him about how to treat women, and then a second one to first have a talk with Minifrit about that because what the fuck did I know? Far from being proud that I wasn’t as sexist as a bunch of the literal rapists I’d been dealing with recently, I was left with a lot of uncomfortable realizations about how I’d acted toward my girlfriends and other women I’d known back in Japan.
But that was an issue for another day.
Gannit was pooling together resources from the nearby brothels to make sure everybody got fed and hydrated, while the remaining whores and madams got people organized. For what purpose I didn’t yet know; I was busy surviving my brush with exhaustion and an adrenaline crash, and was doing well to have gotten a meal and some tea into me without passing out or sobbing. Adrenaline, it turns out, is a hell of a drug, and the withdrawal’s a bitch.
I did note from conversations that happened near me that apparently there were few madams left on Cat Alley, just Gannit and a couple from the poorer brothels near the ends of the street. As it turned out, most of those who profited from the status quo had resisted any change to it, and been turned on by their own workers when rebel furor swept Yrshith Street. A few of the madams who’d tried to throw in with Lady Gray had actually been lynched and dumped in the canals, after which the others from the richer brothels here in the center had fled or been chased out.
Just as I pushed away my empty bowl, Gannit stopped on her way by my table, giving me a critical look over. Nodding to herself in satisfaction that I was apparently replenished enough to be given shit, she prodded me aggressively with a ladle.
“You lied to me, boy.”
“Did not.” I was still tired and somewhat out of it, but that much I was sure of. I had been very careful to dissemble and deflect every time I was here, never saying anything to anyone that could be found untrue.
Gannit snorted and folded her arms. “Listen here, Spooky, I know the only reason you’d have wanted a pair of artifact boots, and I saw you pick up that swishy little sword you’ve got and suddenly not suck at fighting anymore. Not to mention that fuckin’ thing,” she added, jabbing the ladle at Biribo, who swooped out of range. He hadn’t bothered hiding again after my rooftop duel with Lady Gray. “Just cos I’ve never seen a familiar in person doesn’t mean I dunno what one is, and I ain’t enough of a hick not to know what it means when someone obviously has all three Blessings.”
“Mm.” I took another sip of my second cup of blood tea, grimacing at the taste. It did wonders to rejuvenate me, though. “And?”
“And, you told me right to my face that you’re not the Hero. Remember?”
I shrugged and sipped again, too weary to give this moment the gravitas it probably warranted. “I’m not.”
Gannit stared at me, narrowing her eyes. After a moment she let out a little huff, nodded, and then chuckled ruefully. “Well. Well, well. No wonder Gray cut and ran from you. I was just thinkin’, up there, it was pretty in character for her to think she could kill an actual Hero. This is another matter, ain’t it?”
“Is this going to be a problem, Gannit?” I asked quietly.
The old woman cackled, slapping her thigh. “Is it gonna be a problem, he asks me! You bet your creepy ass, boy. It’s gonna be the kind of problems that get books written about ‘em! This is closer to history than I ever wanted to be. But now we’re all here? Fuck it, you’ve been straighter and kinder to me and mine than any pompous fuckheads from the Convocation. Yeah, you’re good with me, Healer. I’ve only got so many years left anyway, an’ after tonight? Turns out I’ve got a mind to see more shit burned down before I join Hell’s revels. It’s not like there isn’t plenty in Fflyr Dlemathlys that needs burning.”
With a final wink, she turned and strode off to resume browbeating her employees—and other people’s—into order.
“Okay,” I said to those around me, setting down the cup. “Thanks for standing by, everyone. What’s our situation like now?”
“Lady Gray got away, as you saw in person,” said Aster. “At a rough guess, I think a bit more than half her men did, too. The damage we and the Alley Cats did to them tonight has probably ended them as an organization. It’d be a massive loss at the best of times, but the Olumnach bandits are going to be pushing aggressively into town as soon as they learn of this. Which’ll be soon, given how fast Maugro works.”
“And our losses?”
“Not bad,” she said, placing a hand on my forearm. “You did the best—”
“Fourteen dead,” Sakin interrupted bluntly. “Aster, my love, I appreciate your good intentions but don’t coddle him. A commander needs accurate intel or everyone following him is fucked. That said, bossman, she’s right. It is miraculous how few losses the whores took, and that’s entirely on you and that Heal spell. Infection, trauma, blood loss, disease, and a host of after-the-fact problems like that are the lion’s share of fatalities from a pitched battle and you completely eliminated that as a factor here. Lady Gray’s people not only took about the same in direct losses but we’ve got at least twenty-five being held prisoner by the girls, and most of the rest are nursing wounds. Some will die in the coming days and a lot are gonna be functionally out of commission.”
“Right. Prisoners.” I rubbed my forehead. “We need to do something about—”
“Done and done,” Gannit called, passing by. “They weren’t your prisoners, boy. While I wasn’t lookin’, apparently some of the girls decided to un-heal the lot. More fodder for the crawns.”
“Good,” Kastrin muttered, fondling the butt of her beloved crossbow. “Sorry I missed that.”
I hesitated, then decided to let it go. I couldn’t exactly complain about these women being bloodthirsty when a cornerstone of my whole strategy here was to provoke that in them. Not like I had any right to throw stones, anyway.
“In your opinion,” I asked Sakin, “what’s Lady Gray’s next move?”
“If Gannit knows you’re the Dark Lord, so does she,” he said. “The good news is she’ll keep that to herself. The rumor will spread; enough people saw tonight’s events to put two and two together, but none of them are going to be considered credible witnesses, and that rumor spreads whenever there’s an especially successful bandit leader, warlord, or royal usurper anywhere. Lady Gray’s motivation will be to quash it. She rules by fear and after the licking she and hers took tonight, she’ll be barely holding them together as it is. If they get a credible tip that they’re facing off with an actual, honest-to-goddess Dark Lord, most of ‘em will flee the city rather than fuck with that.”
“I’m honestly curious how she’s gonna motivate her people to try attacking something they all saw her run away from,” Adelly added.
“She’ll gather up any Blessed with Magic she’s got and throw them at you,” Sakin continued seriously, holding my gaze. “Standard strategy for fighting Blessed on an organizational level is to do so asymmetrically. Sorcerers against physical fighters and vice versa; matching them with their own kind usually turns into a war of attrition whose only certainty is collateral damage. Now, though, she knows you can slaughter the caliber of Blessed she’s got, and that sending Blessed with Might at you is just hand-feeding you artifacts.”
I nodded, glancing at the Lightning Staff and what Biribo had identified as a Featherweight Tunic which had been retrieved by my people and laid next to me on the table. The other two, whose owners had been merely Immolated and thus survived, had vanished.
“She’ll most likely lose the Blessed with Magic she sends at you,” said Sakin, “but after tonight she’ll consider any loss acceptable if it means putting you down. Best move will be to use them to put pressure on you and try to create an opening to get a swift kill herself. Without knowing what other artifacts she’s got, it’s impossible to say what specifically she’ll try, but that’s the most viable strategy in her position. And another reason she won’t want it getting out that you’re the Dark Lord; her remaining Blessed are not going to toss themselves on a sacrificial altar if they know what it is.”
“Hm. So…I could counter her by publicly declaring myself…”
“Whoah!” Biribo objected. “Trust me, boss, you’re not there yet!”
“Lizard’s right,” Sakin agreed, nodding. “As soon as there’s a verified Dark Lord, everyone will come at you. You’re good, Lord Seiji, and you’ve gained a lot of in-person power with the artifacts from tonight, but you’re not ready to personally fend off the entire King’s Guild, and that would just be the first wave. The last Dark Lord stomped through what’s now Fflyr Dlemathlys and the Clans won’t have forgotten that she’s what made the previous regime collapse. Nothing motivates powerful people like a threat to their power—the Clans are just Lady Gray with better table manners. They’ll unite to put you down, and the King might actually be able to solidify his own rule if he’s got a compelling threat like a Dark Lord to rally everyone against.”
I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So… That being the case, Lady Gray could really fuck me over by letting them know.”
“That’s pretty much the one thing she can’t do,” Sakin disagreed. “She’s got negative credibility with any legit authority to begin with. If she tried to start that rumor about her obvious rival for power being the Dark Lord… Well, that’s way too convenient to be believable. The fact that it’s the literal truth is just hilarious.” He grinned broadly in apparently genuine mirth.
“Dark Lord or no, after tonight we’re going to be a very much more identifiable group,” Aster murmured, frowning out at the common room. “There’s just no way to move this many people at once without leaving a huge trail. Anybody who wants to know where the Healer is based will be able to find North Watch pretty easily after that.”
“Yeah, we need to get to work properly fortifying it,” Sakin agreed. “Fortunately the necessary work should be doable, Lord Seiji. I’ll give you my recommendations; with Harold and Kasser’s skills and all these extra hands, we can get it done, probably with the materials we have on hand.”
Given the state of North Watch, with its broken gates and crumbling walls, I heavily doubted that, but decided to take him at his word for the time being.
“All right. I think that’s enough dallying.” I pushed back from the table, standing up. “What exactly has been the purpose of all this running back and forth I’m seeing?”
“Whaddaya think?” Gannit asked, coming over again. Now, I saw, she had a leather satchel slung over her bony shoulder. “Everybody’s gettin’ packed and organized. Your boy here let slip that you’ve got a defensible base, and after tonight’s work it ain’t like we can all stay in Gwyllthean. Gray ain’t dead, and she’s as pissed as anyone has ever been. She’ll go right to work picking off whoever she can get her little claws on. Not everybody’s coming, Healer, but I’ll eat my own ass if you got less than fifty women out there ready to march.”
I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “All right. Then I’d better not keep them waiting any longer.”
***
She wasn’t kidding. They were not only ready, but waiting; the last occupants of the Jostled Jug’s common room trickled out while I gathered myself, and when I stepped onto the street with Aster and the others behind me, it was to find a crowd already formed. They’d made a semicircle around the front of the Jugs, most carrying bundles and many still holding their cobbled-together weapons. No one was still actively hurt anymore, but the night’s brutal work still showed in torn and bloodstained clothing.
Gilder stood grinning hugely in the front row, both arms raised to wrap around the waists of the two amused-looking prostitutes bracketing him, one of whom I noted had a grip on his collar. I was gonna have to do something with that boy.
I’d kept my hood down, and now turned my head slowly, taking in as many faces as I could. I didn’t know everybody’s name after just two months of weekly visits, but I recognized all the women I could see.
I had recognized those who had died, too.
“Kadret,” I said, stepping off the Jugs’s stoop and nodding to her. “You and your friends joined me out of principle and did good work under pressure. I will remember that. In fact, going forward, I may find myself relying on you—because I know, now, that you ladies have a limited tolerance for bullshit. That is immensely valuable to me. I am just beginning to learn how easily violence and power can lead to a self-destructive spiral, and I need people around me who’ll say so when things go too far. I want you to always feel free to speak up if you see a need. If you have concerns, over anything, I’ll hear them out.”
Kadret was smiling by the end of that little speech, as were four of her five cohorts, none of whose names I’d learned yet. The fifth had folded her arms and was regarding me with a pensive expression, but at last she didn’t look openly skeptical.
“Glad to hear that, Lord Seiji,” said Kadret, nodding. “We won’t let you down.”
“I believe you won’t. Now, Craed.” I turned to him; he immediately stepped forward out of the crowd, followed by his two friends. I really needed to start learning names, especially of this group. “You lads joined up in the middle of a fight out of simple opportunism. I’m going to have to remember that, too. You’ve done right by me and mine, and helped turn the tide, and I honor good work.”
Craed nodded, the ghost of a smile flitting across his lips. “But?”
“But things aren’t always going to go my way,” I said, holding his gaze. “Eventually, a time will come when I’m in the position Lady Gray was: against the ropes, beset by an enemy I can’t easily defeat. I don’t know when that time will come—it likely won’t be for years—but it’s one of the inevitabilities of life. There’s always a bigger fish. However long it takes, that’s how long you boys have got to make yourselves absolutely indispensable.”
Belatedly, I remembered they didn’t know what fish were. Nobody commented, though; apparently my meaning was clear.
“We can do that, Lord Seiji,” Craed said with utter self-confidence, nodding again. “Especially with the kind of opportunities a boss like you creates. You’ll be impressed, I guarantee it.”
“I hope so.” My previous warning to Sakin applied; I needed morale, and that required me to cultivate a sense of fairness. I couldn’t have anybody taken for quiet walks in the forest. At least, not at this juncture. It seemed likely to me that Craed and his buddies were going to be trouble, though. I’d have to talk with Sakin about arranging an opportunity for them to “betray” me. Them and maybe Jakkin, if he wasn’t too wishy-washy.
God, this place had done a number on me. And I was only getting started.
I drew in a slow breath and let it out before continuing in a carrying tone, now constantly moving my eyes to keep watch over the whole group.
“If there’s one thing I know about life, on this world or any other, it’s that there’s always another bastard. You deal with a crook, and then there’s a corrupt guard. And behind him a merchant, a priest…a lord. A king, an emperor, even a goddess. It just never stops. From the alleys and brothels to the halls of heaven itself, it’s bastards all the way down. Well, look who I’m telling.”
That got me a stir of grim chuckles from the crowd. Folding my hands behind me, I found myself beginning to pace up and down in front of the Jugs.
“This is where I’d like to promise you all something better. And, don’t mistake me, I intend to do the best I can to help whoever I can. All of you know what I can do. I will heal whoever I can reach, and protect whoever my power can extend to cover.” I hesitated, drew in another breath and let it out. “But you’ve all seen, tonight, that there are limits to my power as there are to anyone else’s. I can’t be everywhere, or do everything. Sometimes, the bastards win. That…will never change. I am not here to save the world. I don’t really think that’s how worlds work. As long as there are people on it, no matter what we do, eventually things will crumble and go to shit. As long as there are goddesses looming over us all…well, there’s no telling what we might suffer just because one of them has a whim.”
I paused, both in speaking and pacing, feeling my hands clench involuntarily into fists at my sides.
“I’m fucking sick of it.”
This got me a lot of nods and some angry mutters of agreement.
“That’s not an excuse not to try! Because…hell, what else are we gonna do? Just lie down and take it?” I spread my arms in a wide shrug. “I won’t promise you safety, or justice, or certainty of anything. In the end, we all come up against something we can’t defeat. Everybody’s blood spills just the same. The bastards stay in power because they keep us all too afraid and desperate to take a risk of reaching for something better—but you see, that’s their mistake. They take too much. They can’t help themselves—it’s a sick compulsion, for people who have power over others. The bastards always want more, and more, until finally they’ve driven us to a point where we have nothing left to lose. Not even our own lives, not when the only certainty is a cruel death at the end of all this.
“I’m not going to save the world, no. I’m going to do what I can, to heal and to help and to protect whoever I can along the way. But that is not the point. I will assure you of my best efforts and intentions, but you all know what those amount to in the end. I will promise you only one thing: vengeance. Not equity, not justice, not the victory of good in the end—because what is good without evil, and what is evil but a word the powerful use to describe whatever threatens them?”
I pointed up and behind me, where the outward-arching walls of Gwyllthean loomed over us all in the darkness, the eternal and implacable fact of life for everyone scraping out an existence in the Gutters.
“If you want to run away and hide, know that I have nothing bad to say about that decision. Hell, I’ll respect your common sense. But if you’re as sick and fucking tired as I am of all this bullshit, if you just don’t have the strength for more common sense and patience while you’re getting pissed on by smirking morons who dedicate their whole lives to pretending they’re better than us, then you come with me. We’re not going to save the world, oh no. We’re going to go find the bastards who broke it, and fuck ‘em up.”
The roar of approval that erupted was a physical thing, very nearly pushing me back. It didn’t, though, and I held my arms wide, letting their rage wash over me, nourishing and stoking my own back to life. I was only the catalyst; the rage was there,the result of everything wrong with this horrible, stupid world, just waiting for someone to come along and forge it into a weapon.
I’d done that, and now I had to wield it, because tonight’s events had proved that what I’d unleashed couldn’t be contained. If I didn’t take the lead, the rage animating these people would find another outlet—and I had much better plans for them than to let their lives be squandered on the spears of a few crooked soldiers in this miserable backwater town.
This scream of primal rage was the sound of change—the promise of a reckoning that would roar across this island and every other. It was the sound of the Dark Lord rising.
“I know you’re watching, Virya,” I whispered to the sky, inaudible beneath the still-swelling cheer of victory and fury that rose throughout Cat Alley. “Enjoying the show, right? Laugh while you can. You’re on my list.”
End of Book 1
Comments
Arillius
Read your notes on Royal Road and as ever I'm in favor of you doing what you need to in order to avoid burn out or other health issues. I'd also advise that you keep experimenting with your schedule, release amounts and so on. If you can bank as much as your producing you pretty much guarantee down the line that any break you have can be one you can take impromptu (like in the middle of a chapter.) You tend to write large chapters so you might want to break them up. Also I have no idea what you're talking about in terms of pacing. It can be a little slow at times but like you yourself said, little of it was unnecessary. I felt the whole experience was a great read and what time we did spend just enjoying ourselves in this world and not barreling to the end of the book gave us a lot for the characters and the world. It might be that your experience in this field is trumping my lack of objectivity (I'm a big fan of your writing and this story in particular), or it might be the feeling a lot of creators seem to have where they can't be objective about their own work. Ultimately there doesn't seem to be many criticisms to share. And as you might recall, I was pretty damn critical of your other work at times. You seem to be looking at this like it's a book. The best Webserials and Webcomics tend to understand they're working with a different medium. What would work for a book doesn't always work here. The problem is much more pronounced in Webcomics but it still exists here, usually just more behind the scenes. But I'll be here supporting you as long as I can.
Tfuj Stary
Great stuff, never stop buddy!
Alex Rahr
Is that a joke or do people really make a distinction that fine?
Arillius
Flying is an incredibly useful and valuable tool. It is also incredibly bad without sufficient speed, armor or numbers. Schlock Mercenary has a word for what you become when you do it without those things. 'Skeet.'
Paradoxez Novel Reader
It's a crime that is series is only at 4.6 rating on Royalroad. It's at least a 4.65-4.7 in my book.
fionag11
Thank you Webb, love this story
Saltymen
I'm gonna guess; Windburst + Featherweight tunic = gliding/flying combo.
Wolfkit
It's easy to talk about vengeance when one's at the bottom of the heap. The hard part is when one claws their way to the top, and realizes that they're in charge of building something better.
Enaz the great
Pardon my french....but That was some good shit
Beeees!
Oh shit, one book down
