Only Villains Do That

I was honestly disappointed. A throwing knife landed in my upper arm and an arrow in the opposite shoulder—an arrow from a goblin-sized shortbow, which barely packed more power than one of our stingers. Another projectile I didn’t see properly whizzed over my head to impact the stone wall. And…that was it. My artifact amulet of course protected me from lethal hits, but it wasn’t taxed by the effort; compared to the volley of crossbow bolts that had pitched me into the river, this was nothing.

Sure enough, there were only three goblins in the cramped, disheveled office. No, four; one poked his head up from behind an overturned desk while I obviated the entire result of their pathetic attack. Being impaled twice provided enough of an adrenaline surge that I was able to use both arms despite their state. Probably not a good idea, under ordinary circumstances, but in my case it didn’t matter. I ripped out the knife and arrow, threw them to the side, and burst alight with the pink power of Heal.

“Really? That’s it?”

In response the archer nocked another arrow, so I nailed her with a Slimeshot. The office wasn’t big; at that range it was way too much kinetic energy for a goblin-sized body to absorb, and she hit the opposite wall in a splatter of slime and blood.

That finished breaking the feeble defense, and the three remaining goblins scurried out through the door opposite the tunnel. I followed, not running but keeping pace quite easily given that my legs were as long as they were tall. The tunnel came out in some kind of storeroom full of shelves and filing cabinets, which looked like it had been ransacked even before my Windburst made it worse. I stepped out of that into the front part of the office, following the shrill calls for retreat, just in time to see a scrum at what was apparently the main entrance to the whole building—or cave, I guess?—as the three fleeing goblins and two more who’d been out there collided with each other in their haste to escape.

I could’ve decimated them in that moment with a few Slimeshots. I considered it.

But I let them go. Seemed unsporting to shoot people in the back. More importantly, my larger strategy down here hinged on convincing as many goblins as I could that I was a reasonable person and decent leader, not some bloodthirsty monster who would indiscriminately slaughter all before me. Besides, it wasn’t like I lost anything by allowing them to report back to Jadrak. He had to know I was coming, and they hadn’t seen anything but me and my imperviousness to their feeble attacks.

Let him chew on that.

“Seems underwhelming, though,” I said aloud, pacing across the front of the office space to warily approach the exit. The door hung open, the sounds of fleeing goblins echoing through the pitch-black tunnel beyond. “Biribo, are you sure the Goblin King is preparing to throw down with us? That was a pretty pathetic defense against an incoming Dark Lord.”

“He has to be, boss. But we don’t know what kind of forces he’s got or what else they’re tied down doing; if he was just now killing the likes of Maugro it stands to reason he’s still got other opposition in the tunnels.”

“Hm. We clear?”

“Nobody else in the tunnel outside, boss. There’s one living goblin in the side chamber over there. Lying down on a cot; I think he’s injured.”

“Well, well. Let’s see what we can find out, shall we? Aster, take two archers and cover the front door. Biribo, keep an eye out for incoming up the tunnel and warn her if we get visitors. Madyn, go back up to the kitchen and fetch Kasser. Everybody else, fan out and see what you can find among the papers in here. This was an information broker’s office; there’s gotta be something useful.”

“Uh, Lord Seiji?” Donon had picked up a windblown piece of paper and now held it up. “All of this is written in Khazid.”

Oh. Right.

“A lot of it’s probably in ciphers on top of that,” Biribo added.

“Of course,” I sighed. “Madyn, while you’re up there, tell Minifrit to ask around and see if anybody else can read Khazid.”

“You got it, Lord Seiji!”

“Everybody else, see if you can find anything you can read and bring it to Nazralind. Naz, organize whatever they get and brief me when you can.”

“On it.”

I could read the stuff myself, obviously, but I needed to delegate this task to someone as I had to take point in the campaign against Jadrak, and moving fast would be central to success on that front.

The ceilings were surprisingly high in here, which meant that most of us were able to stand mostly upright. Getting through a doorway required ducking. So I ducked into the side room, which was furnished less like an office and more like somebody’s cozy living room, to find a folding cot on which lay a heavily bandaged goblin, audibly struggling for breath.

He wasn’t bandaged everywhere; apparently they hadn’t had enough clean cloth. The uncovered wounds had been slathered with some kind of salve, but under it I recognized some nasty burns. I also recognized his face.

The smarmy, talkative goblin who’d killed Maugro and then tried to charm me over his corpse now looked up at me in a clear blend of pain and terror. I didn’t often get to see the horrible aftermath of the things I did to people quite this vividly. It made me feel…not great.

Showtime, then.

“And look who it is!” I said cheerfully, putting on a broad grin. “Not looking so hot anymore, are we? Heal.”

Pink light flashed, blinding in the dim and cramped space, and he arched his back, gasping loudly as he could suddenly fully expand his lungs again without the charred skin on his chest pulling itself apart.

I grabbed one of the overstuffed armchairs Maugro had kept here, which would’ve been throne-like for him but I doubted I could actually sit down in, at least not without looking absurd. Instead I spun it around so the back faced the cot and straddled it, sinking down to perch on the armrests and leaning my crossed arms against the high back.

“I’ve recently been educated about some of the particulars of goblin culture,” I said while the subject on the cot experimentally pawed at his own skin as if disbelieving he had it all again. “It has been brought to my attention that you may feel you’ve been treated unfairly. I gotta say, man, that is wild to me. From where I’m sitting, getting burned to the brink of death and back, twice, is a perfectly reasonable and proportionate comeuppance for the bullshit you pulled.”

“That sounds like human logic, yeah,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“Aw, what’s with the ‘tude, my man? I remember you being so charming a few minutes ago. What, a few little third-degree burns and you can’t even fake a smile?”

He bared his shark-like teeth at me in what was definitely not a smile.

“Well, that’s fine,” I said easily. “We are not going to be friends, you and I, so no need to waste time faking it. To business, then! How come you only had a couple buddies in here? Seems unwise, what with a pissed-off Dark Lord right up the hall.”

The teeth were exposed further as his upper lip curled into a sneer.

“No? What else shall we discuss, then? Oh, I know! What can you tell me about the Goblin King? Available forces, location, strategic weaknesses, things like that?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

I grinned. “I know I should probably be annoyed, but hell, that’s exactly what I’d say in your situation.”

“Oh, we’ll just see how long that lasts,” said a strident voice from behind me. Mastering my expression, I twisted my head around to behold Ydleth and Ismreth having followed me into the little room. Aster had probably sent them because she had this thing about me needing to be guarded. I assumed it was Aster due to Ismreth’s presence, as she tended to follow orders and think before acting, unlike Ydleth, who I could well believe had just gotten bored picking through goblin documents and wandered in here. Now, she sneered down at the recently-injured goblin, folding her arms. “Little bastard has no idea how much pain he’s in for.”

The goblin barked a derisive laugh at her. “Oh, you think you’ve got something worse than burning alive? Cos I fucking don’t. Shoulda held that in reserve, Dark Lord. You’ve blown your entire wad and I ain’t impressed. Fuckin’ try it, asshole.”

“Ydleth,” I said with every last iota of my immense store of patience, “be so good as to shut the fuck up. We do not torture people for information.”

“We don’t?” Ismreth sounded mildly surprised.

Okay, I had to acknowledge there was some justification for the subtle rebuke in her tone.

“Torture is for punishment or to gain compliance, not information,” I heard myself say out loud, and holy fuck my entire career on Ephemera would land me in front of a tribunal in the Hague if anybody on Earth ever learned about it. “If you torture somebody for information, they’ll just say whatever they think will make the pain stop. Not only is that not a good way to get useful intel, it’s a great way to get led into a trap. Is Kasser down here yet?”

“I heard my name.” Seconds later, the man himself poked his head through the door. “Lord Seiji?”

“Ah, perfect. Did you finish building the cells I asked for? How’s that coming?”

“Done as of a week ago, Lord Seiji, I put that at a higher priority after the thing with the cats. Figured we might have a need soon. Well, for a given value of ‘done.’ I’m still doing tests but so far our work has beaten everybody we’ve tried it on.”

North Watch, being an old military fortress, did have a prison, but it wasn’t usable; we were storing non-perishables in the half-collapsed space. Instead, I’d set Kasser to renovating some of the smaller rooms in a thick-walled section of the ground floor to hold prisoners. The nice thing about having an organization full of bandits was that we had lots of experienced people who could test how easy a place was to break out of.

“Good man. If it’s held for a week, it’ll do. I’ve got your first live target here. It won’t be a problem if he’s half-sized, I hope?”

“Shouldn’t be.” Kasser stepped the rest of the way in, giving the goblin a critical look. “It’s a cell with a thick akorshil door, not bars.”

“Good. All right, ladies, escort this gentleman back to the fortress and put him in the cell. These are the instructions I want you to convey to Miss Minifrit: no beating, torture, deprivation, or any other rough treatment. He’s to have enough pillows and blankets to sleep comfortably, clothing as needed, adequate provisions for sanitation, and he gets the same food everyone else eats. He may have one book at a time.”

“A…book?” Ydleth tilted her head, visibly mystified. “What the hell for?”

“What do you usually do with books?” Kasser asked her.

“The boredom of being locked up alone in a small room with nothing to do counts as that torture I said we won’t be doing,” I clarified. “Just one because everybody else uses the library, too. He can request a replacement book once per day. Unless he destroys or damages them, in which case he loses that privilege. I want someone on duty outside the cells at all time and prisoners are to be checked on at irregular intervals not more than two hours apart. And Izzy?”

“My lord?”

“Inform Minifrit that this is to be the standard of prisoner treatment going forward, for anyone who ends up in the cells. If this one decides to spill any beans about Jadrak, she may consider granting him more comforts or privileges at her discretion.”

“Very good, Lord Seiji.” She folded down her hands. I didn’t need to press any further or ask her to repeat those instructions back; Nazralind had trained all her girls in memory retention techniques she’d learned from that Lancoral spy who’d coached her, and unlike some of them, Ismreth was actually good at it.

“Why?” the goblin asked, squinting up at me suspiciously.

Why? Because in the same internet reading which had schooled me on why torture was not an effective information-gathering tool, I’d learned what was: breaking a prisoner involved developing a rapport with them. Unfortunately, I had absolutely no idea how to do that. It hadn’t been interesting enough to me to read up on, back when all of this had been purely theoretical, and let’s face it, making friends has never been one of my strong suits. Plus I definitely didn’t have time to spend on it. For now, he’d just need to be stashed somewhere until this Goblin King business was wrapped up, but treating him with some basic decency was the only start I knew how to make.

Obviously, I couldn’t explain any of that to him.

“Why?” I said aloud. Leaning closer to him, I smiled. Slowly, coldly, with eyes half-lidded. “It’s simple. Because I’m better than you.”

The sneer returned to his green face. “You might’ve had a point, there, if you hadn’t opened with all that torture.”

Well, shit, he had me there. Not that I’d ever admit it.

“I said what I said,” I replied sweetly, “fully aware of the context. Take him away, ladies. You may employ whatever force proves necessary, but permit him to walk with dignity so long as he complies.”

“What’re we gonna do with him after we finish off the Goblin King, then?” Ydleth asked.

Which was not her place to ask, and definitely not now, but I didn’t call her down as it presented me with an opportunity to further make my point.

“We’ll let him go, obviously. This fellow isn’t my enemy, he just works for him. Once Jadrak is gone, he’s just some guy. We’re not in the business of hurting anybody who doesn’t specifically need it, ladies. All right, you have your orders.”

Belatedly, I realized that after I’d allowed the other goblins to escape I might as well just let this one go now. Well, too late, I’d already made a big production of giving my orders. And some good might still come of it. Getting my minions and foes alike accustomed to the fact that Lord Seiji treated prisoners well was worth a head start. And who knew, he might eventually decide to cough up some intel.

“Yes, my lord.” Ismreth, like most of Naz’s noblewomen, preferred her shortbow to the crossbows the rest of the organization used, but she at least had added a stinger with sleep darts to her arsenal. It was this which she now leveled at the goblin, stepping aside to create a path for him to the door. “This way, if you please, good sir. Let us be civil about this.”

The goblin frowned at her for a long few seconds, then back up at me. He was clearly thinking deeply about this. But in the end, he got up and walked on his own.

Nobody approached the offices from outside while we took stock, which was starting to seem ominous. According to Biribo, Maugro’s place appeared to be on the outskirts of the goblins’ underground town, so it made sense that people wouldn’t just happen by. What made less sense was the lack of anyone responding to our attack, given that the goblins we’d driven away had had plenty of time to inform Jadrak of what had happened. Well, since I’d let them escape alive, if he didn’t know of my presence before, he would soon.

Some of Maugro’s documentation was written in Fflyr and uncoded; Nazralind didn’t find anything immediately relevant to our interests, but he had a surprising amount of dirt on various Fflyr Clans. On the basis of that alone, I ordered all the paperwork in here to be gathered and carried up the tunnel for us to go over at our leisure, when there was more time. Maugro had had his stubby green fingers in a lot of pies, apparently.

In his offices, we didn’t find much else of immediate interest, save another slain goblin who, being unarmed, had probably been one of Maugro’s staff, and three distinctive greasy smears that were what happened when you doused a fire slime with water. So that was how the others had gotten the slimes off their buddy. The good news was none of the slimes themselves had survived, so Jadrak was not now in possession of one of my secret weapons.

To my considerable chagrin, that hadn’t even occurred to me until we found their remains. I’d been lucky this time, but I needed to tighten up my game. More slip-ups like that were going to cost me.

“The good news is this place could not be more defensible,” Kasser reported, thumping one fist against the wall. “Solid rock all around, and only one exit into the tunnels. The original door’s sturdy and seems intact; they must’ve taken Maugro by surprise. I can fortify it and put together a proper barricade, not like that ramshackle mess the gobs half-assed. Nothing will hold forever, Lord Seiji, but it won’t take much time or effort at all to make this place stand up to any assault for a good long time.”

“Music to my ears,” I praised. “Don’t forget, though, fighting goblins isn’t going to be like fighting Fflyr. These guys are the source of those fancy munitions we’ve been using, and you can damn well bet they didn’t sell us everything they have, or even the best stuff. We’ll be dealing with gas attacks, explosives, chemical fires…”

“Mmm.” He narrowed his eyes in thought, rubbing his chin. “Good point. Okay, I should be able to build a barrier across the door that’s both airtight and fireproof. The only downside is that won’t be a door we can open or close at will; once all that stuff is in place the thing is not going to open again until it’s destroyed, and then we’ll have to start from scratch to re-seal it.”

“That’s acceptable.”

“I’d like to put some barricades in the tunnels outside,” said Aster, “with archers behind them. In both directions.”

“Why?” Kasser scowled at her in annoyance. “I just said this door is the most defensible point.”

“Yes, but I don’t like risking everything on a single point of failure. If we light up the tunnels, put up barriers and have people with crossbows to discourage attacks, that will at least slow anybody coming at us enough to retreat in here and fortify. Plus, rather than sealing our people behind a barrier, it gives us control over the entrance and the freedom to come and go until the Goblin King sends a big enough force that we have to shell up. That’s gonna be important, since Lord Seiji and our strongest hitters have to go out there and take the fight to them.”

“Hmm, okay, I follow you,” he said a little grudgingly. “Well, that’s simple enough. We can turn over some tables and desks, set ‘em out there in a staggered pattern. Yeah, that’ll buy time in case of an attack and might be able to repel a weak one. Okay, you’re right, Aster. Good news is you won’t need any craftsmen to do that, we can just cart out tables and desks and turn ‘em over.”

“While we’re thinking along those lines,” I said, “I do want us to hold this office if at all possible, but it’s the tunnel to North Watch that cannot fall. Can you do something to improve that?”

“Oh, yeah, easily,” Kasser answered with more enthusiasm. “It’s long, narrow, and sloping down here from the fortress, that’s just begging to be booby trapped. One person with armor could hold that against an army, but we can just, y’know, roll junk down there and ruin anybody trying to take it from below. Gimme some fire slimes and barrels of asauthec in the kitchen and I can stand in the kitchen door and massacre anybody trying it.”

“Good. Fortify the door up there, too, but that’s a last priority. I want this place locked down as tight as it can be first.”

“Will do, Lord Seiji.”

“As soon as you and Kasser are satisfied with the defenses,” I said to Aster, “we’re moving out. I want a small group of hard-hitters, like you said.”

She nodded. “The biggest problem is going to be light. Goblins can see in the dark, Lord Seiji, so there won’t be lights out there. We’re not as badly off as most human forces would be; between your spells, light slimes, and Nazralind, we can provide our own light for basically no cost or effort. But it does mean that in order for us to be able to do anything, we’re gonna have to let them see us coming long before we can see them.”

“Hang on,” I protested, “there were lights in here already. Why would the goblins have that if they didn’t need them?”

“Cos this is an office full of paperwork, boss,” Biribo explained. “Goblins’ dark vision is a magical ability. They can perfectly see shapes in any level of light including absolutely none, but to see colors they need about the same amount of light as humans. That means if they wanna read, they need lamps. Goblins do have a kind of raised script that can be interpreted by running their fingers over it, but since that’s gotta be carved into solid objects to work it’s only used for signs and stuff.”

“Huh,” I mused. “I didn’t know goblins were magic.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s pretty normal. Most sapient races have magical abilities, it’s just humans and beastfolk who don’t. Goblins get their dark vision and super strength.”

“Hang on, what super strength?” Donon demanded. “Goblins aren’t any stronger than a human.”

“Uh, yeah.” Biribo zipped in front of him, sticking his tongue out. “A goblin is about as strong as a human, at half the size. You need me to walk you through the arithmetic on that?”

“Oh,” Donon mumbled, crestfallen, then rallied. “But don’t forget the super hearing!”

“I was talking about magical abilities, Donon. Goblins don’t have magical hearing; they hear better than humans because they got those big ears. Even elves hear better than humans, though not by much.”

“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” Nazralind said haughtily as several people turned speculative glances on her. “Please, by all means, go on gossiping about me just outside what you assume is my earshot.”

“Goblins are magic.”

Something in my voice made everyone stop what they were doing and turn to look at me. I wasn’t sure exactly what image I was putting off at that moment, being fully preoccupied with my own suddenly swirling thoughts. I wasn’t even sure, yet, where this burst of insight was going. Something had clicked together, forming connections I was following inwardly.

“They’re…magical creatures,” I repeated, staring at nothing. “Magical abilities. Dark vision and double strength. Which…can be shared…with Spirit Bond.”

“I thought that spell only worked on monsters?” Nazralind said hesitantly.

Aster’s eyes widened as she realized what I just had. “But a compound spell with Spirit Bond’s effects and something else’s triggering conditions…”

“What the hell is a compound spell?” somebody asked.

I ignored them, preoccupied as I was chasing this sudden epiphany down the next branching pathway.

“Biribo.”

“Boss?”

“What monster races on Dount possess inherent magic? And what abilities do they have?”

“Well, uh, monster is a subjective term that comes down to politics, boss, but as far as races with magical abilities? Elves—both kinds. Light elves can make light at will, dark elves have magical stealth. Goblins have dark vision and enhanced strength, like we were just discussing. Harpies have magically enhanced vision which they can adjust the acuity of at will, and also have magically reduced body weight, which is the only reason a humanoid creature is able to fly under its own power. They can also reproduce with genetic material from other species. Naga have a pretty amazing package. They can regulate their body temperature to an incredible extent; you can freeze one solid or set them on fire and the only damage is superficial. They’re also able to withstand immense amounts of atmospheric pressure and can see and hear clearly through any medium through which light and sound are able to pass. Also, they can breathe water, which is kinda the key to the whole pattern: those are abilities designed to give them human-like function deep underwater, but it has the knock-on effect of making them way overpowered in most other circumstances. There are other races, but that’s it for the ones you’ll find on Dount.”

“Naga are tough bitches,” Aster agreed. “In the King’s Guild newbies are told to leave them the hell alone; that’s a fight for a powerful Blessed. Luckily there aren’t many of them, and the ones on Dount have always minded their own business. So long as people stay out of their territory.”

I had it now. I needed more details, but I could see the shape of it. The sheer weight of the revelation was making me vibrate in my artifact boots.

“Biribo.” Only the full strength of my performative ability kept my voice steady.

“Boss?” He, by contrast, sounded both wary and avidly eager. I was never sure how much Biribo truly knew, but right at that moment I got the distinct impression he’d been waiting for me to realize what I just had.

“Of the magical races extant on Dount, how many of them are…matriarchal?”

“Is that even a real word?” Ydleth stage whispered from somewhere in the near distance.

Biribo actually did an excited little pirouette in midair before he started expositing.

“From most to least? Harpies can’t really be considered a matriarchy because they’re not any kind of archy. They are strictly solitary and extremely unfriendly with everyone, including each other. On Dount, the only place they live is up on the nearby mountain and the fact that there’s more than one in the area means they’re pretty much always fighting. Harpies are an entirely female species; they have that magical reproductive strategy, like I mentioned. When a harpy wants to mate, she’ll usually just grab a male from whatever race is unfortunate enough to be nearby. And usually eats him afterwards.”

“Damn. Is it bad that I kinda like them?”

“Yes, Ydleth, that’s pretty fucking bad,” Adelly said in exasperation.

Biribo ignored the byplay, just watching my face while he carried on his explanation. “Naga are sort of matriarchal by default. They’re the least humanoid of the ostensibly humanoid races, and have a very different core biology from most. Naga are incredibly sexually dimorphic, to the point you probably wouldn’t guess the males and females were the same species if you didn’t happen to know better. Male naga are…well, it’s questionable whether they’re even sapient. They don’t really communicate and aren’t good for much beyond grunt labor. About as smart as a dog. So it’s only the female naga who have anything that can be called a society.”

“Huh,” Aster grunted. “I was told naga were like harpies. No males at all.”

“The local dark elves are ethnic Savins,” Biribo continued, “which means, unless a lot has changed in Shylverrael in the last century and a half, they are an explicit legal matriarchy. Think…basically the same gender politics as the Fflyr, except in reverse.”

“Okay, I definitely like them,” said Ydleth. “Is that okay, Adelly? Am I allowed to like the dark elves?”

“Considering we’ll probably end up allied with them, that’s probably for the best.”

“And goblins,” Biribo said with relish, coming to the end of his recitation, “are strictly meritocratic. The local goblin culture doesn’t really have defined gender roles in the sense you think of them. Whichever goblin is smart and skilled enough to outperform their competition gets to be in charge, until another one muscles them out. Goblin leadership is therefore a pretty even split, but they have zero compunction about taking orders from a woman as long as she proves herself worth obeying. Same rules as for men.”

He paused, did a little loop-the-loop in the air, and flicked his tongue out eagerly.

“So, boss, yes. Every magical race found on Dount, with the exception of the Fflyr light elves, is either necessarily or at least potentially matriarchal.”

And there it was.

The worst part, I realized, was that it wasn’t even my idea. The plan that burst into being behind my eyes would chart my course for the remainder of my conquest of Ephemera, well beyond the borders of Dount and Dlemathlys, but it wasn’t something I had created. Merely something I’d come across, following the trail that had been left for me.

She’d put me here, on this particular island. With this particular bonus ability… And that very particular set of beginning spells. All of it had been set up from the beginning, just waiting for me to connect the dots. Now I knew exactly what kind of show Virya wanted to see.

I burst into hysterical laughter, because it was that or scream, weep, and claw my own eyes out.

“Lord Seiji?” Aster exclaimed in alarm.

I staggered weakly to one side until I reached a wall and slumped against it. Howling with despairing mirth, I pounded one fist impotently against the stone.

“He’s doing it again,” somebody muttered.

“No escape,” I wheezed. “There is no getting away from it! Every time I think… But no. Here on Planet JRPG, under the Weeb Goddesses, there is just no escape from otaku bullshit!”

I raised my head to see that everybody looked disturbed now. That caused me some regret; I didn’t want to dishearten my people and I knew this wasn’t the image I should be projecting right now, but it was like I could feel my consciousness being unraveled from the inside by the revelation I had just experienced, and I had to vent somehow. It was this or kill myself.

“WITNESS ME!” I roared, surging upright and throwing my arms wide, causing everyone to shy a step back from me. “For I have beheld a glorious vision of our future—our wonderful, terrible, stupid future. And it is a future built upon the shoulders of monster girls!”