Their tension was visible, as was their exhaustion. Beaten. Battered.
Most of them? Defeated.
You could tell from the way they moved. The way their bodies were positioned.
Their pride? Their sense of self? Gone.
Not all, but most.
I tried to focus on the ones that weren’t. The elf lady. The minotaur. The other two female beastkins. The halfling.
Those stood out. You could tell they still held their pride.
Unfortunately for me, they were not the ones that made themselves heard.
It was the broken wretches that made the most noise. Not helpful.
But it had to be endured. Their survival hinged on my ability to do so.
Thankfully, I didn’t need to watch this sorry spectacle for long.
The orc guarding the area was due to move on to the next stage of his patrol in a heartbeat, and soon…
Soon, Riska would set my diversion in place, ensuring I’d have just enough time to carry out my plan. I hoped.
That's of course, the exact moment Spark decided it was a good idea to stroll straight into the camp.
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Wagging his tail like he was about to make a new best friend.
Right in front of the patrolling orc.
The orc stared at Spark in surprise and disbelief.
Spark, being Spark, sat on his haunches. Still wagging his tail, but now also lolling his tongue.
I facepalmed. Now I have to kill this one too.
As I started to process my options, my best approach angle, my quickest location for a [Shadow Blink] and stealth kill, something made me pause in my tracks.
Something my brain couldn't believe. Couldn't process.
The orc fell on his knees before Spark...
And started praying?
"IT SUMMONS THE BEAST FROM THE SHADOWS-"
"WE HAVE ANGERED IT-"
I couldn't help it.
I facepalmed, again!
"Spark buddy, I love you, but could you stop accidentally becoming an eldritch god?"
The orc, wasn't done though.
"OH MIGHTY... Huh? WHAT SHALL I CALL YOU MIGHTY ONE?"
Spark sat there, tail wagging, staring down the orc. Then huffed.
His breath releasing embers into the air in a fiery cloud, around Spark's furry chest.
The orc didn't miss a beat.
His voice reaching a new degree of fervor.
"OH MIGHTY FURBLAZE, I AM UNWORTHY OF YOUR GENEROSITY."
I simply couldn't stop myself.
I facepalmed. AGAIN!
Fred of course, was wheezing in laughter at the whole exchange.
"Oh... Oh God... Rick.... Riiiick.... Buddy!!! Your dog... He.... He..."
The wheezing intensifies. If he wasn't a disembodied voice in my head, I'm sure he'd have died of asphyxiation by now.
"Your dog has started a new eldritch cult!!!"
As he gathers a bit more of his breath he adds-
"Hah. Cthulhu better beware. The allmighty Furblaze is coming for his throne."
A few smaller chuckles and then-
"Damn. I need more popcorns for this."
As I processed the ridiculous scene developing in front of me, the orc rises in clear reverence and starts walking backwards away from Spark.
Maybe I won't need to kill him after all.
His voice rang loud one more time though.
"THIS UNWORTHY ORC THANKS THE ALLMIGHTY FURBLAZE FOR GIFTING HIM HIS LIFE. ALL HAIL FURBLAZE."
And he scrammed away.
No dignity involved. Nope.
Not one shred of bravery or bravado in that orc.
His loincloth area was visibly a darker shade of brown at the heart of his shame.
I took another deep breath. Then facepalmed again to recover from this whole exchange.
What would you do if an entire warband started worshiping your dog?
???? Drop your best "divine dog" names in the comments!
the legend of The Godboss… and Furblaze.