I found myself almost admiring the creature. But something was off about its behavior. Badgers were territorial as hell, yes, and clearly Longshank and the scouts needed to die horribly for the crime of invading its personal space. But it had emerged from its burrow to aggressively attack us rather than remaining inside to defend against intrusion.
Then there was the first badger, whose purpose almost seemed to have been to lure us out here.
I instantly berated myself for such stupid thoughts. The badgers are organizing?
But there’d be time to speculate on this later. For now I had other things to worry about.
“Ket?”
The sprite still hadn’t responded to my earlier warning. I’d been too distracted with the fight to really notice, but now I was starting to get concerned.
“Ket? Bekkit?”
There was no response. My Sphere was silent.
Thirty-Seven
Fury Badger
Corey
Panic rose inside me. I tried to fight it down, but it was impossible. Why hadn’t Ket responded? Ket was never silent.
I had to go back.
“Finish this creature off, then return with Longshank and the others,” I commanded Ris’kin. Then I deactivated Double Sight, trusting my avatar and scouts to take care of the monstrous badger. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long; the thing was nearly dead, after all.
I appeared in god’s-eye form about ten feet above the ark. It took me a moment to get my bearings; the camp had been assembled strangely, as if my denizens had known they’d be under attack.
The wagons and portahuts were arranged in a tight defensive circle. The builders had only had time to make one more of the foldable huts since the prototype; both of them had been erected on opposite sides of the circle, plugging gaps left by the wagons so as to accommodate all seventy-six of the tribe’s non-combatants. I was relieved to see Gneil and the acolytes at the very center; someone had seen fit to give them spears, and they waited atop the chariot looking nervous but determined. Whether they were focused on defending the gem inside the ark or the owlets nesting on top of it was unclear.
The tribe’s warriors, eighteen in all, stood on and behind the outer wagons, facing outward. The spear-gnomes had weapons and shields at the ready; the slingers had stones waiting in the cradles of their slingshots.
The skynet had even been raised above it all, though the glinting threads were skewed at an angle as one of the supports had been knocked awry—most likely by one of the creatures currently circling the camp.
Dire Badger
Mammal
Status effect: Fury
The spawn of a dire badger queen.
So far, no one seemed to have been hurt on either side. The gnomish warriors were focused on defending the civilians, and so were maintaining their disciplined position, rather than sallying out to attack the black-and-white creatures.
Like the one Longshank had shot back at the burrow, these appeared to be nothing more than normal badgers. They were not twisted and deformed by muscle mass like the queen I’d just encountered. Apart from their slightly larger size, the only thing that distinguished them from our own tribe’s badgers was their bloodshot eyes and foaming mouths.
And the fact that they looked about to embark on a murderous rampage, of course.
“Ket? Bekkit? Coll?”
Where in the hells is everyone?
“Benin?” I even asked reluctantly.
I spotted Binky, at least. The fluffy arachnid had flattened himself against the roof of a tent and appeared to be waiting for the right moment to strike. Bruce was also visible within the circle. I was relieved to see both creatures unharmed, though the others’ absence was still extremely worrying. Ket and Bekkit should be physically unable to leave my Sphere of Influence, and Coll and Benin shouldn’t have had any reason to. And where were the rest of the tribe’s own badgers?
Two more badgers emerged from the undergrowth and joined the three already circling. They drew closer each time, as though testing what would happen. When nothing did, they came in even closer, snuffling at the wagons.
Seems we’re on our own.
I focused on Hammer, and an instant later a list of options popped up beside her. Since she was an officer, I could influence the commands she gave to the warriors, determining how aggressive our strategy would be. Having long since accepted that I myself was no tactical genius, I usually left the officers to themselves, only intervening to provide the most general of directions.
I could have her give the order for a ranged attack right now. A hail of stone bullets would surely cause heavy injuries to our besiegers, and maybe even deter them from attacking all together. Why hadn’t Hammer already done so?
I looked again at the animals’ bloodshot eyes; watched them mindlessly pacing and panting, more like enraged bulls than cute woodland mammals. I thought I understood why she was holding back.
These so-called dire badgers were behaving differently to normal badgers. They weren’t acting on any natural instinct. A normal badger would probably flee from the slingers’ assault. But there was no predicting how these creatures might react. It might even trigger them to attack.
There was something distantly familiar about their behavior. As I took stock of our options, I racked my brains for what the badgers’ behavior reminded me of.
As one, the five badgers paused, tilting their heads as though listening to a distant sound.
Then it hit me.
Their behavior… it’s almost like Snagga.
My mind flashed back to a fight in a dark tunnel where Ris’kin had faced off against my enemy’s monstrous avatar Snagga. The foul creature had clearly been eager to continue tormenting her, but had been forcibly compelled to abandon its prey and return to its master after receiving some sort of silent signal.
Unfortunately for us, whatever these badgers were hearing, it was not orders to retreat.
The sounds of growling rose from all around. Then the badgers charged.
They moved in unison, making me even more certain that they were getting their
