The Fatal Conflict (GBS2G7) (Round 4: The Huntsman's Garden)

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

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Kaja turned to face the barbarian; Kargrek if he recalled correctly. Instinctively his hands plunged to his belt and into the pouches of exotic herbs that hung there, though they proceeded no further, froze in place at the lack of movement from Kargrek. He was a walking mass of muscle and scarred tissue, practically looming over the alchemist. His long black hair framed an odd expression; one of interest, but also of wariness. For a moment they were both silent as they assessed one another. If blows were about to be exchanged then Kaja was likely to come off worse; he had nothing brewing and if Kargrek pounced he would have no time to mix up anything. Kaja removed his hands from the pouches, holding them limply by his sides.

“Yes?” Kaja says somewhat tensely, his eyes not veering from the barbarian, even as the gladiatrix approached, her hand cautiously upon her lance.
“You'd confront Zaire?” Kargrek grunted. “You’ll not fight him alone. Not well at least.”
“It is a possibility…” Kaja said. “I need some clarification on a couple of queries from The Redeemer before I am prepared to commit to anything.” He paused. “Though I would be prepared to wager that I will not get the answers I want. If so, then we can talk about assailing our captor.” He paused and started again. “Perhaps.”
“You speak as if your question is already answered.” Kargrek replies.
“It is in all but actuality. Perhaps it is naught but my mind picking at Zaire’s phraseology, looking for a loophole, but the question is pertinent and even though it is little more than a formality it is one that I will ask, just in case.” Kaja responded. “If you would excuse me with a moment…” The alchemist turned away from the pair of warriors, and walked without hesitation through the door of the coffee shop, the sound of glass crunching underfoot accompanying him as he did so.

The inside of the coffee shop struck Kaja as reminiscent of some macabre painting; tables and tables of corpses, some still clutching their long cold beverages in their dead hands, and in the midst of it sat one living man, unfazed by the horror that surrounded him, casually sipping from a Styrofoam cup and reading an oh-so-very out of date newspaper. Kaja walked over to Zaire’s table and sat himself down in the seat opposite him.
“Hello Doctor Lorrden.” Zaire said, looking up from the newspaper he had presumably acquired from one of the other customers. “Why don’t you get yourself a drink? I imagine you could probably heat one up with that contraption of yours, although that isn’t really the most entertaining use to which it could be put to, of course.”
“What happens if I die?” Kaja asked bluntly. “You said that if we die we return to our respective afterlives. I am not from an afterlife. If I die am I returned to my world?”
“Humour me Kaja.” Zaire said dismissing his question. Kaja sighed and clicked a switch on the back of his contraption, activating a series of flasks that served as a condenser. He plucked a couple of herbs from an inside jacket pocket and deposited them within the contraption. Perhaps a minute of sitting in silence later and Kaja collected the mixture up in a cup seized from a nearby customer. He placed the cup of freshly brewed tea down on the table with a theatrical flourish, but any trace of good humour on his face quickly evaporated thereafter.
“What happens if I die?” Kaja repeated.
“The same thing as everyone else.” Zaire responds. “You die Doctor Lorrden. You pass on to your world’s afterlife, whatever that may be.”
“I see.” Kaja responded. “No surprises there then.” He took a sip from the cup of coffee he had brewed. “My own blend, with lotus and kii flower.” He said satisfied. “Black of course, I wouldn’t trust any milk that might be left in this world.”
“I’d say that is a good call.” Zaire responded, taking a sip of his own coffee.
“I hope we aren’t boring you?” Kaja asked, gesturing towards the newspaper.
“Just a little distraction while the battle heats up.” Zaire replies. “At the moment you’re all coming to terms with what’s going on, getting to know one another, trying to figure out if there is a way to cheat the system. This is the dull stuff. You’ll see once we get into the later rounds.”
“Or I’ll be dead before then.” Kaja replied. “In my world I don’t think we have an afterlife. The nearest approximation would be being conscripted into the undead hordes that soullessly maim and murder the people who they once were part of.”
“What do you want Kaja?” Zaire asked, suddenly impatient. “Are you sitting there trying to appeal to my good side? Trying to convince me that you are a scholar and not a warrior? Do you want me to say ‘oh there’s clearly been some kind of terrible misunderstanding; you aren’t supposed to be here’ and send you back home?” Zaire paused. “I have no patience for this.” Zaire clicked his fingers irritably. Complex runes appeared across Kaja’s discoloured skin. For a moment he clawed at one upon the back of his hand, before it was apparent that they were blossoming everywhere, and then his body froze. Kaja struggled, but found that he was completely unable to move his body and shortly it began to move on its own. Getting to its feet and walking to the door of the coffee shop. It paused and turned back to Zaire before Kaja involuntarily left. “One last thing Doctor Lorrden…” Zaire said. “I will not be drinking your poisoned coffee.”

Kaja regained control of his body once he was out of the coffee shop. He scanned the street to see Kargrek and Bellona were still nearby. He sighed heavily, the conversation with Zaire having expelled whatever doubt remained in his mind, he was in this competition whether he liked it or not. He approached the pair.
“You will have to excuse my manners, it’s been a long time since I have had human company that has not tried to burn me alive for being an undead abomination.” Kaja said, extending his right arm out to Kargrek, who looked down at it blankly. “Actually you probably don’t shake hands…” He promptly retracted his arm and used it to doff an imaginary hat towards Bellona. “In fact that probably means very little to either of you either.”
“I’m guessing that you got your answer?” Bellona said curtly.
“Yes.” Kaja said. “I hope I am not too late to join the revolution?”