The not-immortal Blacksmith

The Road, Kingdom of Garthia,

54th of Anael,

2128 years since the new gods came.

I'm stalling. I really don't want to visit the family school. It gets uncomfortable. Maybe I'll go to my vault and switch out some gear.

*-*-*

The old farm was deserted. The crop land overgrown by more than a decade, the fence broken, the house half burned, and the old barn fallen in on itself. It looked like it had when he first bought the place.

He carefully crept through the vacant yard, and across the feed lot, into the back most section of the barn. Under a pile of fresh bird droppings, and a larger pile of dead and rotting hay he opened a trap door that moved smoothly on well oiled hinges. The still intact 500 year old wards on the passage allowed easy access to the tunnel below the cellar.

His decent into the depths of the ancient root cellar took only a few minutes, but as things do underground, it felt like hours. At last he arrived at his destination, his 'Vault'. Looking around, he saw no trace of intrusion, and sighed in relief. “Glad things are still intact.”

In her cage, Brandy complained, “Can I come out yet?”

“Yes.”

Brandy opened the door to her room, and stared. The vault, once the lights were lit, Sparkled. Gold, gems, pieces of art, silver, refined bars of star metal, celestial steel, and even bars of Elvin Mithral! Even the many many racks of tools and weapon gleamed in the light. For what was probably the first time in her long and sordid life, she was speechless. “Y...Yo...You...! It's like a dragon hoard in here!”

“Three of them, actually. Tristan and I didn't just hunt the demon lord, you know.” Max smiled.

*-*-*

Tom Cat, El Gato, King of the Celestial realm, was having a bad day. He had been following the Head God's instructions, and definitely NOT been eating any creatures that could talk back! How was he to know that fish could talk? It had never said anything! Well it had said “Glub glub”, but by that logic, all fish could speak! He ran.

Who knew that the goddess who owned that fish was so good with a broom? And boy could she run. He made it to the relative safety of the trees, and lost her by pulling a squirrel. Glad that's over with.

*-*-*

The central meeting hall of the gods was full to bursting. Extra chairs had been brought in from other buildings, and all of the snacks were gone. Tempers were running hot, and the populace was having none of it.

“That damn cat ate my fish!” Toruer, goddess of Dreams, yelled at Maximilian. “I want his head!”

“I'm working on it. And don't yell at me, I'm not the one who left a damn portal open!” Maximilian yelled back.

Narissa, goddess of tranquility, was anything but tranquil. “I demand a Hunt.”

The room went silent. As one, the room of gods looked at her. In the back of the crowd, someone spoke up, “Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes. It is the only way to rid the realm of the vile creature! It is bad enough that they live in the world! But here? I say thee Nay!” Narissa replied, venom almost dripping from her mouth. “I call for a vote!”

Hesitantly, hands were raised, and the vote counted.

*-*-*

Tom lazed on a tree branch, up in the top of the canopy of his forest. He sighed as the sun bathed him, and the breeze tickled his whiskers. Then he heard the sound. A Bark. He fell from his perch, but adjusted his fall and landed softly on his feet.

On silent paws he crept to the edge of the wood, and stared. The dog was slowly sniffing at the ground, and with a wagging of tails, then it trotted towards him. Tom puffed himself up, and stepped out to meet the new threat.

“Hello, dog. You should scamper back to your masters now.” Tom purred at the dog. In the distance, Tom could see the lesser gods yelling encouragement to the overly large, three headed creature that approached him. “If you don't, I will have to teach you respect.”

The dog, tails wagging, slobbered all over the ground. “Oh, oh, oh! A cat! I've never seen a cat before! Do you want to be friends?” The dog started to try and sniff Tom's butt.

“No. Now begone, or I will say the hated words.” Tom replied with a growling hiss.

The dog stopped. “No! You wouldn't! No no no no no!” It whined.

Tom raised himself to his full height, placed a paw on the nose of the central head, and hissed, “BAD DOG! NO BISCUIT! GO HOME!”

The dog whined, tucked his tails between his legs, and bolted for his kennel, not to be seen again for a hundred years.

In the distance, the gods, dumbfounded, stared.

*-*-*

“I suppose we will have to do it ourselves.” Narissa grumbled at the crowd. “CHARGE!”

The crowd of gods charged across the field at Tom. A lightning bolt flew at him, and he jumped to the left. An arrow missed him by inches. He bolted into the crowd. A foot missed him, and he wound himself between the legs of someone, causing them to loose their balance and fall. Using the fallen god as a jumping off point, he leapt for a face in the crowd, and dug his claws in. A broom swung at him, and he kicked off the face, letting the broom impact the blooded god's head.

He landed in the cleavage of a very well endowed goddess, and dug in his claws for another jump. She screamed, and flung him off. He bounced on the ground, and bolted for the granary. He leapt to the roof, and sat down. As he cleaned his claws, he watched the mob of gods beat at each other. When the cleaning was done, he let out the song of his people. “Merrrrooowww!” The assembled gods stared up at him.

With all eyes properly affixed to his form, he announced, in cat (the only proper language), “This is my plain of existence. You are all my staff, and you will act like it.” A lightning bolt whipped past his head. Tough crowd. I may have to put on my charm.

He stood, and stretched, posing in the way that had always gotten him treats as a kitten. An arrow buzzed past his ear. He froze, and looked down. “Who did that?!? I am your king! You shall---”

Another arrow interrupted him. He jumped and twirled out of the way. Enough is enough. He launched himself at the archer.

Samarand, The Archer, had missed! He stared at his bow. He saw the incoming shadow, and angry cat, a tidge too late. It impacted his face, and knocked him to the ground. It's just a cat! What in the hells is going on? The claws dug in, and he howled in pain.

Toruer, still wielding her broom, swung at the cat. It jumped, again, and she hit the Archer square in the face.

“Damn it woman! Hit the cat, not me!”

Tom landed on someone's back, and clawed his way to the top of their head. “I am your king! Stop attacking me!” A fist swung at him. He jumped to another back, and kick climbed his way up to the shoulder, where he dug his claws in to hold himself steady. Three people were grabbing at him. He kicked off the shoulder, getting a scream of pain in response, and barreled into one of the grabbers chests. From there he bounded to the ground.

The feet of the angry mob were actually fairly easy to dodge. Except for the hoof. The hoof that kicked him across the field and off the Plain. In his head he heard the Head god's voice “Sorry El Gato, This is for your own good.”

*-*-*

From the courtyard of his home, the cloaked rider on the pale horse watched as the counter on the new god's hourglass turned from 9 to 8.

*-*-*

Narissa looked over the disorganized mob of gods, who were in the middle of nursing cuts, bites, and bruises. “We shall NEVER speak of this again.”