Rise of the Rune Lords Interlude: Hurry Up and Wait

Jakandros watched the Magnimar adventurers ride off into the early-morning mud. The Black Arrows were staying behind to watch Fort Rannick. They didn't have horses and wouldn't reach Turtleback Ferry in time to help with the evacuation.

“All right, Sovark, I've been patient long enough! The interlopers are busy, it's time for some explanations!” It was impressive just how much bellow a motivated halfling could produce. Jakandros took the full brunt of it at close range and nearly fell off the wall. “You always were a moper!” Niwen Merce concluded, glaring up at him. Arrayed behind the halfling were the two other reincarnated Black Arrows along with Vale and Shalelu.

“I'm not moping,” Jakandros retorted from reflex. Arguing with Niwen was always a struggle. She, um, he? was, er, had been? Whatever. HE had a forceful personality developed from decades of training new Black Arrows. Even when he agreed with you, he had a tendency to dominate. The transition from gray-haired, leather-faced woman to short black-haired halfling only seemed to have a concentrating effect, making the steely glare more penetrating.

“Brooding, then. Whatever you call it, it's time to stop. You're in command here, so command. At least tell us what HAPPENED.”

“Look, Niwen, there just isn't that much to tell. The Kreeg attacked. I was out on patrol, Lamatar was . . . away. You fought. They won. Magnimar sent out some adventurers, they saved our lives and re-took the fort. When they get back from helping the Ferry, they're going to see if they can find Lamatar.”

“And we just sit on our hands while your precious adventurers pull our ass out of the fire? We're Black Arrows!” Niwen sniffed.

“If you hadn't noticed, there's plenty to do here.”

“Scrubbing floors and mending! Anyone can manage that. I'm asking about the FUTURE, Sovark! What are we going to DO?! Six rangers can't hold Fort Rannick through the winter. Five, if you don't count that squirrely git you locked in the dungeon. If we're leaving, we should be packing up and making plans. If not, we need to get more people in here, fast. There's always more Kreeg, you know that.”

“Lamatar--”

“Is dead!”

Jakandros finally let his simmering irritation boil to the surface. “So were you, not long ago! Just give it a few more days, Niwen! If we don't have better news by then, we can ALL decide what to do.”

Vale growled. “Like what to do with Kaven? He told them how to get in here. He practically admitted it. We don't need to wait--”

“What's this?!” Niwen demanded. “Is that why you've got him locked up?! I figured it was cowardice, or--”

“No, he went out whoring and told some spy bitch how to take us out,” Vale snapped.
“Watch your language, boy!” Niwen bellowed. There was abrupt silence in the rank, Vale glaring at the halfling and flexing his hands. Jakandros rubbed his neck, trying to think of how he could regain control of this situation. He felt very tired. Niwen turned to look at him.

“This is what comes of treating the Black Arrows like a rehabilitation house for thieves,” he spat. “I'll gut him myself.”

“You'll have to wait in line after me!” Vale snarled.

“No,” Jakandros announced, keeping his voice level. “Things are bad enough without turning on each other.”

“He's not one of US! He's a coward and a thief and a traitor. It's time for you to do something, not just follow along waiting for someone else to fix all our problems! Or did the Grauls cut your balls off while I wasn't looking?!”

“Vale, that's enough! You're not helping!” Bindra, the elven woman standing beside Shalelu, said. She hadn't spoken before, in fact, she rarely spoke at all. Her main interest, even before when she was a human, was in herbalism. Jakandros wondered briefly why such a retiring person would have the willpower to return from the dead. Apparently, there were hidden depths to Bindra.

“I think we should put it to a vote,” the man beside Bindra drawled slowly. His name was Prandag, an expert spelunker and mountaineer, which was only to be expected before he died, when he was a dwarf. Now he was human, and looked somewhat awkward with his new height.

Niwen nodded sharply at the suggestion. “Fair enough. I vote for--”

“No,” Jakandros announced again, fighting to keep his voice under control. Vale, Niwen, and Prandag were all exactly the type of people who would flay you alive at the slightest sign of weakness. Yet, they were some of the best Rangers he'd ever worked with, as well. Was there some correlation between being excellent and being impossible? “There will be no voting. You're all still Black Arrows. You swore an oath to this order, and until such time as Lamatar returns, I'm in command. If you want to be forsworn and leave, I won't stop you, but then you have no place calling Kaven a coward.”

Vale's nostrils flared and he almost took a step forward, but visibly controlled himself. Prandag nodded briefly. Dwarves—even former dwarves—took oaths seriously. But Niwen sniffed again.

“You want to command? Then command!”

Jakandros faced him squarely. “You want orders, then? Here are my orders: we're going to wait. Are you forgetting already that all of us would be dead now if it weren't for those adventurers? Are you going to spit on that the minute they walk out the door? I expected more from you.”

“Oh, you expected more? How much have I given, training recruits for three decades, then watching ogres torture them to death and waking up in a body that isn't my own!” He slapped his chest for emphasis. Then, just when Jakandros thought he was going to follow up with a devastating accusation, blaming Jakandros for being absent, the halfling stuck both arms out in front of him, stretched, and chuckled.

“What?” Jakandros asked, nonplussed.

“You know . . . it's really not so bad. Fifty years seem to have gone mysteriously missing, and good riddance. I had a terrible rheumatism in that shoulder, and it's completely gone.” He shook his head. “I shouldn't be yelling at you. I trained most of 'em, you know. Sent 'em to their deaths.”

“Don't start blaming yourself, Niwen,” Vale said. “That's Jak's thing. He'll be annoyed if you start horning in.”

“Bah, he's an amateur. He just mopes.”

“I do NOT mope!” How had they come around back to this? Were they going to have the entire argument again, now?

“While we're on the subject of balls,” Niwen continued, waggling his eyebrows outrageously, “How DO you fellows keep yours from getting pinched by your armor? If we're going to wait, I might as well get ready to fight.”

Jakandros rubbed his face with both hands. Niwen had apparently decided to concede, and, as usual, was going to do so by making everyone in the vicinity as uncomfortable as possible. “I'm going to delegate Vale to answer that one, thank you.”

Niwen's eyebrows waggled again. “Come, Vale, we have much to discuss.”

“Yes, ma'am. I mean, sir.”

“I may have to learn how to shave,” Prandag rumbled. “This peach fuzz is a disgrace.”

“Oh, I think you look rather dashing,” Bindra said. She took Prandag's arm and the two of them also left.

“Well done,” Shalelu said, the first time she'd spoken.

“No, it was very poorly done. I just tried to think, what would Lamatar say? And there was nothing. So I said that instead.” Jakandros shook his head. “I'm a leader, not a commander. I know how to get people to follow me, but that's different from getting them to obey your orders, especially when they're well out of sight.”

“You could have let them vote. Walked away.”

“Like I did at Crying Leaf?”

“Yes.”

“I . . . I wanted to. I won't pretend I didn't. I'm sorry. I still want to. I'm tired of all this death.”

“Humans. You're still a child. Wait until you've been around a few hundred years.”

“No, thank you. One is plenty for me.”

“That's very human as well,” Shalelu said. “You sink so much into that one that when it's gone, there's nothing left. So you throw away what might have given you comfort along the way.”

“I wish I'd never left Crying Leaf.”

“Regrets are also very human. Look . . . the sun is up. Whatever happens, we'll still need to eat. Take your bow and go hunting for a while. I'll stay here and keep an eye on things. If you're not here, they can't argue with you, and they won't do anything today.”

“All right. I'll go. But I will be back.”

“Good. Don't forget.”