Deference Where Demanded

Finished with lending a hand to the laypeople and walking a perfectly capable administrator home, Zaida was back on track to visit the recreational venue she had set out for in the first place. She still had some time left before she would be expected anywhere, and she wished to spend it on an activity and setting of her own election.

"Psst. Hey."

Zaida looked out of reflex. It was Markil, standing in the shadow of a building and waving her over.

Confound these instincts! From now on, if someone wants my attention, they'll have to knock me over the head for it!

The woman begrudgingly accepted his invitation. He was leaned against the wall of the building, yet again looking dissatisfied with his circumstances. Zaida wondered if boredom was simply this man's natural state. "What is it?"

"We're moving ahead with this takedown. We'll go after Dyna, and you get to help."

This was precisely what Zaida had hoped for, but hearing it from Markil almost made her want to turn him down, what with his manner somehow making it sound like she should be thankful for even being considered. "And how do I do that?"

"You're lucky. We brought a channeler with us, and he has some familiarity with concealment magic. He says the pendants Dyna and her lackeys wear are the source of their disguises. If we can take them out of the picture, they won't be able to hide anymore."

"So...?" Zaida prompted the next part, but the royal knight only gave her a look. "How do we do that? How are we going to get the pendants 'out of the picture'?"

"That's for you to figure out. Remember, we came to this armpit of a town with our own purpose. You want to be involved? Think up a way to deal with those pendants."

Zaida found it increasingly difficult to not openly loathe this tactless twat. "Demons hiding in the ranks of Merridian's guardians doesn't take precedence over whatever recruit-thieving you came here to do?"

By the expression he wore, it was apparent that he very much wanted to answer affirmatively, but recognized that saying so out loud would cross a line. "Don't question your betters. You want our help? Come to us with a way to neutralise the pendants without the traitors noticing." With that, he left his shade, and walked out of sight.

Yorresie returned to her table from her break. The afternoon was moving along and so was her research. She already had a basic understanding of most demons a warrior could expect to encounter, let alone a nun. She knew that they had an affinity for things like anguish and deception, and an aversion to most anything considered holy. What she did not know was what to do about them. The collection available at the library was small, and every now and then the books did possess useful nuggets along the lines of 'don't try to outrun them' or 'go for the head', but the teacher yet found herself feeling as though something was being overlooked.

For all the use of the word 'humanoid' the books did not seem to make much effort to explain the inner workings of demonkind. Are they like humans in other ways? Do they have the capacity for civility? Do they have their own society, or are they organized exclusively by acquiescence to the Demon Lord's will? Were they all so intrinsically bent on spreading woes that these ghastly descriptions were sufficient synopses? Perhaps such questions were answered in the more rigorous demonology texts. Or perhaps she was simply giving them too much credit.

Yorresie tucked these thoughts away for later, opening yet another tome packed with introductions to the many manifestations of the demonic.

Widely theorised to be relatives of oni, ogres are large demons with human-like features. The smallest recorded height of one being one hundred seventy-five centimetres, and the tallest being two hundred ninety. Unlike oni, ogres lack horns and tusks.

Perhaps more significantly, ogres can also be distinguished from oni by their intellect. While oni are known to be barbaric and dull, ogres are among the more clever demons. Their use of traps and sorcery speak to their cunning. Indeed, the threat posed by these hulking monsters is not exclusively physical. Stories of encounters with them mention their ability to improvise, strategise, and subvert their opposition.

What followed was an assortment of quotes from primary sources on their confrontations with ogres. Common themes included outfoxing humans, prevailing against overwhelming numbers of knights, and utilizing their brawn and their brain in equal measure. The moral of the stories was clear: ogres were not a threat to take lightly.

The route that should have taken Zaida to her destination was blocked off. The whole road was crossed with rope. Past which was a veritable trench stretching straight through the road and beyond in either direction. Pulleys, scaffolding, and piles of materials made it clear that work was being done there. Zaida easily stepped over the rope to see precisely what kind of work.

At the bottom of the moat was an open waterway, aflow with water deep enough to wet one's navel. Zaida did not have to think especially hard to understand that the conduit was being replaced or repaired. She gazed at the far side of the trench. It was certainly reachable, but she would need a running start to clear it.

"Oi, oi, oi! You there." The voice called up to Zaida from the bottom of the moat. A woman stood in the waterway. She looked like she was meant to be working there, by the waterproof garments that kept her legs and waist dry. "What are you doing up there?"

"I was trying to follow the street," the knight explained. "Don't worry, though. I can jump it."

"Woah, no, no, no!" the worker waved her arms in refusal. "Don't be trying anything like that." She had been in her line of work long enough to know that people often overestimated their ability to avoid hazards in construction zones. They lined off the areas for a reason.

"What's all the fuss over here?" Another worker approached, this one on the far side of the trench. "Zaida, is that you?" she asked with a knowing grin. It was Dvorah. The lady wore apparel suitable for the environment, though not the same hydrophobic garb as the woman below.

"Is Miss Basch up there?" The forewoman's voice had reached the bottom of the moat, but the other worker could not see over the sides.

"Zaida, what do you think you're doing here? This area is having work done. I know that it's the responsibility of the knights to keep the rest of us safe, but you're the one most at risk right now." Dvorah's reprimand was plainly shallow, never even disrupting her grin. She was just saying what she was supposed to say when someone trespassed. The forewoman continued to approach. When she arrived at the fissure, she mounted the ladder to descend.

"Uh, Miss Basch? You don't need to be down here," the worker pointed out. "You're not even wearing your waterproofs."

"Yes, but we have someone on the premises, and that is dangerous," Dvorah said without slowing. "I am going to escort them back out." Reaching the bottom, she sank into the water, soaking her nearly to the collarbone.

"Escort?" the worker listed her head in perplexity. "You can just tell her to leave."

Dvorah grabbed the ladder, moving it from one side of the trench to the other. "But I need to ensure that she makes it out of the zone safely." Once it was stable, she climbed up again toward Zaida's side.

"The rope is five paces away..." the worker's lack of understanding only deepened.

As the forewoman neared the top of the ladder, Zaida offered a hand to help her to the road. Dvorah accepted and pulled herself to an intimate proximity of the knight.

"Come now, Zaida. I know you're relatively new in town, but you ought to know better than to traipse about as if the whole world is your domain. I'm in charge here." The expression on the lady's face was much like it had been when Zaida met her at the café; assured and daring her to challenge her authority.

"My mistake," the bigger woman admitted, not in the least intimidated by Dvorah's attempt at dragooning her. She found it difficult to be scared by someone with their brassiere visible through their sodden shirt. "Didn't quite clear the water there, did you?"

Dvorah looked down at herself. "This is your fault; showing up out of the blue and getting me wet in the middle of the day..." Again, her tone betrayed the insincerity of her discontent. "If you were heading down this road, you must have been heading toward Stoley's or thereabout. I'll take you around the zone to keep you away from any further hazards." She took the knight's hand and pulled her to follow before she even had the chance to protest.

"If you insist," Zaida said with a mildly amused roll of the eyes.