Chapter 41 – The Return of the King (of Badgers)

(Update, Divine Share was supposed to be a dungeon core fragment, my notes were not as complete as I'd like and the editor usually catches this stuff)

“I didn’t know you were so good at crafting,” said Julia meekly as she tried to place her rod into her storage.  It didn’t fit.  You couldn’t put items that powerful into dimensional storage.    She carefully examined it and then attached the device to her side in a loop on her belt.  She was going to need a sheath.  I didn’t much care for meek Julia.  Meek Julia agreed with everything I said or did, and that was rapidly approaching annoying.  

“It's a Mayor thing,” I stated as people started leaving the dining room.  SueLeeta was smiling happily at her upgraded Scorpow, which met Dalton’s mysterious specifications, and I’d given Jarra a rosary composed of several smaller orbs.  

As everyone but Julia left the dining room, I opened a portal to my office in the town hall and paused as Julia walked up behind me.  She stopped, unwilling to talk as I waited.  We stood like that for a good minute before she finally cracked.    

Julia looked over at me, “Are you waiting on something?”

“You got worse,” I said.  “I was hoping that giving you a piece of gear on the level of a Treasure of Rule would get you back to your old self.”

Julia bit back a response, because of course she did.

“You were better during the Trials, but now you seem to have totally lost your backbone,” I said.

Julia shrugged, “You were not king then.  I don’t want to upset you, and it’s not like I actually have any rank anymore.”

“You are still the Princess.  You’ve been the princess since I met you in that skiing lodge, act like it,” I said and stepped into my office over at the town hall.  The door exploded open even before Julia stepped fully through the portal.  

“Mister Mayor, we have seventeen requests that require your approval,” stated Mar as the Duke brushed past him.

“My Liege, there are some concerns from the army, I will have to discuss those with you as soon as possible,” he stated.

HankAlvin pushed next to them both, “Jim, we can’t hit these production numbers as quickly as you’d like even with Margwal’s help.”

And those were just the people who’d managed to get in the door.  There were two very strong Dandies standing outside my office doing their level best to keep everyone else out.  

“Julia, figure out what is missing in the production chain and resolve it as best as you can,” I said, delegating that responsibility to her.  

That was mission critical, probably the most critical task this office would deal with today.  She flinched as the Duke eyed her contemptuously, strumming his fingers on the Rod of Power.  “If you need, I’ll be happy to handle that task for my niece,” he said dryly.  

Julia reached down and touched her own treasure, cautiously at first, as if she didn’t remember what she had, and she glanced over at me.  I raised my eyebrows at her imploringly and her back straightened.  She glared right back at the Duke before crafting a barrier and storming out dragging HankAlvin behind her.  

“Mar, I’ll go through the requests, but I already got the prompts and several of them are going to require some thought.  Taking down the Shadow Tap Margwal repaired for the improved version Beakatrix designed is going to slow production of weapons even further.  It needs done, though.    I’ll talk to Beakatrix.  The rest of them look like they can be handled after lunch, so I’ll have answers by then,” I continued.  

Mar nodded, that was the usual routine.  I didn’t see anything from him that wasn’t marked critical, but a few of the critical ones blinked in my interface.  I couldn’t delegate any of these choices, but Mar was good at only getting me the stuff I really needed to review.  

“Talk,” I said to the Duke, about whom I could delegate nothing.  

“Puma checks,” he began.  

“Are critical to the survival of any army,” I said.  In my personal office I knew that there were no Pumas.   Probably.  I did a quick check.

“I think you may be wasting precious time searching for something that isn't there,” began the Duke.  “Perhaps we could stick more closely to the standardized training manual.”

“We are fighting the dark overlord, the standard manual hardly applies,” I stated.

“The manual exists from Grebthar’s time, I assure you it does,” stated the Duke.  He was still livid with me.  He went for one quick tour of the Western Gate Fortress and I’d managed, again, to thwart all of his plans.  I was getting good at that.

I brought up the army interface.  I had the Army of Windfall, and the Army of Falcon.  The difference was night and day though.  I still had my Great General perks and those allowed me a far greater degree of control over the Army of Windfall, which was at its core a more capable force if far less polished.  

The Falconian Army that was controlled by the King included many units.  I should have Royal Guards, but they’d been disbanded.  There were also several regiments of normal soldiers, but those had been absorbed into the forces of the Duke and Duchess.  I also had a number of town garrisons that I couldn’t realistically remove.  

The Duke literally controlled about 70% of the Army of Falcon directly so removing him removed that entire group of soldiers from the field.  The problem was that outside of me and Fenris, no one had enough War Leader talents to control that many troops and the Duke knew it.  If I replaced him with Lorraine, I’d lose about half of the Falconian Army and some of the Army of Windfall.  

Because of that, the Duke got to be annoying, at least until I could improve further.  

“Shart, do you have any leads on the Dark Overlord?” I asked.

“Is the Duke whining again.  Please say he’s not whining again, I can’t take any more of this,” said Shart, who it turned out hated politics way more than anyone had a right to.  

“Yes, where is the Dark Overlord,” I stated.

“You realize he’s doing his best to hide himself, and it's going to be really obvious if I go looking,” said the demon. 

“Great,” I muttered and tried to count to ten while glaring at the annoying man in front of me.  

The duke was far less annoying at one sixtieth normal speed, primarily because he didn’t talk much.  I assumed when I became King these problems would subside, and they had to some degree but the nature of the problem was in the Kingdom itself.  I was King, not president, with more absolute power over my own limited lands and less control over the Duke’s fiefdoms.  Feudal politics meant I couldn’t directly order his armies to do what I needed them to do, so I had to negotiate.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Marry Julia,” said the Duke.  “Right now, I’ll do the ceremony myself.”

That is what they really wanted.  The Royal family of Falcon was currently out of their traditional leadership role and they hated that more than they hated the Dark Overlord.  The thought of all my power slipping through their fingers was enough to crush their little souls.  

“I’ll think about it,” I said, eliciting a smile from the Duke.  That was the largest concession I’d given so far.  “Assuming the training schedule is adhered to.”

“Of course,” he said.  “But I don’t know how much longer I can keep the men performing such tedious tasks.”

“Try harder,” I said as the Duke left the room and round two started as more people were admitted.  Followed by round three.

By noon, I managed to sneak out of my own office after dumping the completed requests from Mar onto his desk.  The fact that I could operate at a heightened timescale was usually a blessing, but presently I was hating it.  I’d done a week's worth of work on each of the last two days.  

Of course, I could appreciate Shart a bit better now.  This was his whole life most centuries.  I spotted my tail as I stepped out and decided to go to the Engineer’s workshop first.  

Julia ‘found’ me as I left.  She was practicing her own version of hide in plain sight and was wearing a disguise so that she would be harder to recognize.

“Figure it out?” I asked.

“I’ll need to get some goods from Falcon, but we should be able to make up for the lost production over the next few days,” said Julia.  She looked confident again, it might have been fragile confidence, but it was something.  

“Where in Falcon?”

“Union, the Vinelands, I know of several major metals markets that should have everything we need,” she said.  

“Follow,” I said and turned down the street to the Hatchery, Beakatrix’s workshop.  Four Dandies stood guard while a host of assistants were running in and out.  

“Where is my assistant,” squealed Beakatrix.  That was a word in Progenitor that meant several things including servant or slave.  It was a beautiful language based on intonations that I was still learning.  I brought up the town menu and Margwal was not here.  She was working on something on the opposite side of town actually.  Strange, I thought she got along with the Progenitor pretty well but a glance at her movement history showed that she rarely visited the shop.  

“Beakatrix,” I said walking through the front door.  The fact that crowds just parted for me now that I was King was something else I was trying not to abuse.  “How are the eggs.”

She clucked at me several times, “Fine.  But I have work to do, what do you need?”

“Several things, first, Hansa made me an expandable framework for a gateway,” I said. 

“I saw sloppy work," replied Beakatrix.  At least that’s what I think it was, her bird language was tricky to parse but she certainly wouldn’t have said crappy or terrible.  She was far too kind.

“We built it in a hurry, I need another one at your highest priority,” I said.  

“I have other projects,” she began, turning her head so she could see me with just one eye.  The effect was discomforting.  

“I’m afraid this is critical; it is necessary for the war effort.  Hansa finished it in a few hours, I’ll expect you to finish it faster and with higher grade materials,” I said.  Beakatrix still looked dubious, so I continued.  “This will allow us to import more high-quality materials from a larger market.”

Beakatrix nodded, watching everyone before she looked back at me, “Of course, Mayor.”  I assigned the quest to the engineer, and she hastened back over to the old Shadow tap that had been pulled out of my basement.  She had it partially disassembled and was examining several pieces on it while clucking.  

“What’s that,” I said gesturing towards one of the parts.  It reminded me of the Dark Overlord’s collar but was subtly different.  Beakatrix squawked.  

“A surprisingly high-quality Mana Fuse, it overloaded.  I am trying to perfect it,” she said gesturing to a component on the table.  

“You built an improved version of this one?” I asked, picking up the device.  It was the size of a collar, but the wiring paths were different.  Another partial piece sat next to it but when I touched it, I received the tingle of mana feedback.  

“Careful around those,” said Beakatrix and I dropped the item like it was hot.  Normally when she said be careful something was about to explode.  She continued talking about mana circuits but her warbling was difficult to understand.  I gathered that mana taps worked a lot like generators and you needed to connect them just right.  

I could see that, my uncle had once hooked up a generator wrong and fried everything in his house, and his neighbors.  

After a few minutes passed of Beakatrix talking, I cleared my throat, “So about the new one?” 

“Yes, it is an older design.  I knew of some upgrades but this one is curious,” said Beakatrix.  “It was not progenitor designed, but I am trying to incorporate the improvements onto my own.”

“Does that mean we get an ‘improved’ improved Mana tap?” I asked.

She looked at me with one eye for long enough that I stepped away.  

“And what are we going to do with the gate?” asked Julia.

“When the device is done, have your fastest runner head towards Union, she should be able to get there overnight if she hurries and has a suitable number of potions,” I said.  “If she sets up the gateway I can just connect to it.”

“Then we’d have a connection to a large Falconian market,” said Julia.  

“Will that be sufficient?” I asked.

The Princess boggled for a moment before nodding, “Yes, I can buy a great number of the weapons needed there directly.”

She bolted, searching for a runner while I turned back to Beakatrix.  “I need something else.”

Beakatrix squawked something like an epitaph, which didn’t make any sense from such a noble and regal bird.  She apparently needed to fly or something.  I wasn’t quite sure of the grammar.  

What flapping now?  

“Anyway, I need you to build me a small flying contraption that can look for the Dark Overlord,” I said.  

“There,” said Beakatrix gesturing towards a table.  “I made those earlier, they should be sufficient.  Have one of the assistants operate them.”

The translation between our language was significant, if I was being less charitable the way Beakatrix said assistant would have been interpreted as slave.  Thankfully I knew Beakatrix was of stout moral fiber and chastised myself for even thinking of it.  

She sure had made a lot of these observation drones, enough to watch the whole town with some to spare.  Beakatrix sure was diligent.

“Or Paranoid,” said Shart.

“Think of the puma checks we could do with those,” I offered.

“Hmmm,” replied Shart, considering the options.  “Maybe these aren’t such a bad idea after all.”  

Beakatrix was turning into a mad scientist and this lab was getting a lot stranger in a hurry.  One thing struck me as particularly interesting.  “What is that?”

“That is my organic replicator,” said Beakatrix.  “It is used in the creation of certain parts for chemical studies.”

“Like what?” I asked, poking the machine.

“Initially I hoped to create a replacement spine for your chief servant Fenris, but the replacement is beyond this device,” said Beakatrix.  “I would have to completely close him and that will require the devotion of far more resources to upgrading my equipment.”

“What can you do with your replicator right now?”

“I am presently using the device to create dragonscale for use in certain armors, I was able to collect a sample from the coat of my assistant,” said the engineer.

“Does it have scales?” I asked.

“It has fur, but those develop into scales as the creature ages,’ stated Beakatrix wisely.  Or as if she was talking to a child, but obviously I was getting the inflection wrong.  As I considered it she continued, “I can age the parts to maturity using science!”

“What about this,” I said pulling out the abomination horn.  

“You stole that,” said Shart.

“Stole it back,” I replied.  

“This is not significantly more complicated than dragon scale,” said the Progenitor, “But the material will not be stable.  It would not work for melee weapons.”  

“Then use them for arrowheads,” I said.

She nodded.  

“You can generate body parts with just a bit of hair, could you generate an entire body?” I asked.

“For your friend, Fenris?  It would require a more advanced version of the machine, and the copies would be without souls,” said Beakatrix.  “I am not aware of a method to transfer those.”  

“Interesting,” I said as I sent another quest to Beakatrix and a blueprint.  “Have you ever seen one of those?”

The progenitor considered for a moment then huffed in annoyance, “That will require further upgrades.”

“When we get the path to Union open, I’ll get you as many as you want,” I said.  

I allocated as many resources as I could before Beakatrix stormed off to her next project.  I was going to get a notification from Mar concerning what I’d just done, but what was the point of being King if I couldn’t abuse my power.  

“I’m going to visit Badgelor, hopefully he is awake,” I said as I started walking south down towards the magical quarter.  Jarra’s Healing Hut was no longer hers, the current town healer moved in while I was gone.  Jarra had been disappointed, initially, until she found out her new assigned job.  

“Windfall General Hospital,” I said, examining the large stone structure.  The fact that it had been built in less than a week was just something I’d gotten used to.  Building construction rates on Windfall were obscene, and this one had a bunch of adventurers working on it.  

“My Liege, " stated Spencer Quartermaine as I entered the facility.  He was a nice enough chap.  It was expected that the Quartermaine dynasty would be in charge of the hospital.  They were one of the least powerful branches of the royal family in Falcon but they focused primarily on healing.  The fact that he was at the front door waiting for me was also unsurprising.  Everyone important knew whenever I was going to enter a building thanks to my shadow.

“Is he still there?” asked Shart as I smiled at the Cleric.  

“Of course, he’s my tail,” I replied as several other Falconian clerics ran over to see me.  

My tail was a Falconian rogue who fancied himself good at hiding.  He was, but I was better at finding things.  I just neglected to mention to anyone that I knew he was there.  I knew he reported to the Duke, but ultimately, I think he reported to the whole family and had some sort of a messaging skill for them.  

I would have been more offended, but he was constantly vigilant and watched out for danger at all times.  I couldn’t fault that attitude, so instead of teleporting over to him, I just let him be.  He was my own version of the paparazzi.  

Spencer was looking at me, so I reviewed the last bits of our conversation before replying.  “Yes, everything looks tidy.  I’m very impressed with everyone’s work, when the final battle comes many lives will be saved here.”

The various members of the staff, which included far more Healers than I would have expected, all smiled.  I glanced over at Spencer.

“Excellent, and now all of you have work, if I could have a word with the Mayor in private,” said the hospital administrator.  That was the other fun bit.  While being King was important, being Mayor was far more important and everyone liked to drop that I was the Mayor now that everything was decided.

We started walking to an empty section of the hospital.  Right now, we were not at war, so most of the space was available because the kind of magical medicine a Cleric could perform was enough to get most people out of the hospital far more rapidly than on Earth.  I’d seen a man with a half-crushed skull and a mangled arm fully recover while I was dedicating the facility to Badgelor.  

I’d have expected the Falconians to want this facility to honor Grebthar, or Logan but I had forgotten the national mascot.  Badgelor wasn’t a god, but he was incredibly popular all over Falcon.  Also, he lived in Windfall and the Falconian nobility paying for the hospital was inclined to do whatever it took to get into his good graces.  

Speaking of which, I stepped into the empty wing and spotted Jarra mixing a potion.  Spencer’s expression went neutral, he was smart.  The previous administrator decided that he had some complaints about Jarra treating Badgelor.  That had not gone well for her.

“Why are we wasting our time here,” asked Shart.

“Because Badgelor is our friend, and I’d like him to wake up,” I replied.

“He’s sleeping, who knows how long that will take,” replied Shart.  “He’ll wake up before the final battle and that should be enough.”

“We check anyway, because he’s our friend,” I replied.

“Fine,” said Shart, “Besides, I have some new theories on how Filly got his hat back I was wanting to discuss with both of you.”

Joy.

“How is the patient doing,” asked Spencer, before he realized he spoke over me.  This was his role though, and I wasn’t about to complain about him being concerned about patient health.  

“There doesn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with him,” said Jarra.  “I performed an Augury with Josslyn Tait Cassadine Wright.”  She paused trying to remember if that was enough names.  The Falconians only had a small list to choose from, and they tended to mix and match to make it work.  

“Josslyn the Seer is the best Auger in the facility, her technique will reveal anything wrong with a patient, even concealed or hidden damage,” said Spencer.  The Sphinx hurt Badgelor but hid most of the damage, so it was much harder for him to recover.  Still, it was well past the time he should be up.  

It had been close to three days, and not only did Badgelor appear to be at his actual maximum hit points, but no evidence of any wounds could be found.  

Jarra looked pensive.  This is why she’d come back, and she couldn’t actually fix the problem.  I’d have given her a hug or kissed her, but attempting to invade her professional bubble would cost me later.    

I glanced into his room.  It looked reasonably similar to a modern hospital.  There were various medical tablets hooked up to him making appropriate medical sounds.  While they were interesting, the hospital didn’t have many of these, due to lack of need.  Given that most things could be fixed with a spell, long term monitoring was a rarity at best.

Heck, if we didn’t have the hospital, I’d probably have thrown Badgelor in front of a fireplace until he got better.  That always worked before.  Jarra grilled me on that, and right now there was a hearthstone, a magically heated rock, sitting next to the badger making everything in the room intolerably warm. 

As I watched, I asked Spencer, “So no visitors?” 

“None, I did as you ordered and ensured that no one but Jarra, myself, and the Seer are even aware Lord Badgelor is here,” said Spencer confidently as he checked the room ensuring that everything was right where it was supposed to be.  

Bashara sat reading quietly next to Badgelor.  

“Excellent, I can’t imagine anyone sneaking past you and your guards.  Bashara glanced up at me and shook her head.  I said, “Done with the Duchess already?”

Spencer looked a question at me, and I gestured towards Badgelor.  He nodded, hesitantly and stepped away trying to figure out if I was mentally communicating with mighty Badgelor.  Bashara just shook her head as he stepped back.  

“She’s still trying to come up with a new strategy and I’ve fed her so many ineffective ideas it will take her at least a day or three to settle on one,” said Bashara as she glanced at Spencer.  He didn’t seem to notice she was there and started reviewing his clipboard urgently.  

“How is he doing?” I asked Bashara.  She looked up from a book over to Badgelor and then to me.  

“He’s not eating,” she said gesturing towards a tray of meats and vegetables from the Golden Badger.  

“How are you?" I asked.

“Better,” replied Bashara.  “I’ve had more time to think.”

She wasn’t talking about politics, “Thank you for your help, I support whatever decision you chose to make.”

“A very boring answer,” said Bashara, reaching over and scratching Badgelor behind the ear.  I thought I saw his head twitch. 

I used Treatment and didn't see any other issues with Badgelor, then checked my Bond which also came up clean.  There was nothing wrong with Badgelor.  He was just sleeping and wouldn’t wake up.  

“Can you make me some of that cream?” I asked.

Jarra glanced at me and snorted, “You don’t need it.”

“I never did, Badgelor loves the stuff,” I said.

“Never?” said Jarra the Healer as she stared at me for a long moment, “But I made so much.  I thought… and I had to get help from so many people… and they figured… He ate all of it?”

“I had one jar,” I said.  

“I made hundreds.  Did you know how hard it was to find dill weed before I planted it?  Several people were badly injured gathering it up, I healed them of course but…  If he wasn’t unconscious, I’d kill him!” growled Jarra as she walked over to the herbal cabinet and started mixing up a small jar of ranch dressing.  

“If it isn’t for that…” said Spencer with a haunted look.  “We’ve been sending crates of the stuff over to the Dalton Girl’s place.  Crates.”

“What can I say, Badgie loves that stuff,” I said, and the War Badger twitched slightly.  

“Feck me,” said Shart.

“Yeah, looks like plan tough love,” I said, taking the jar that was thrust into my hands.  I opened up a portal to my office and Shart went through it shaking his head.  Shart was invisible so it looked like I was flexing.  Mar stepped into my office and looked at me curiously.  

“Sir?”

“Mayor stuff,” I said and closed the portal.  Spencer looked at me oddly and Jarra’s head tilted into the ‘you are up to something’ expression.  I let them for another several seconds when Shart finally got into position.  It helped that he could walk through walls and his destination was close.  

Stepping into the room I grabbed a carrot off of the tray of food and bit into it with a loud crunch.  “Tasty, but it needs something.”  

Shoving a carrot into Jarra’s patented erectile dysfunction cream, I brought it to my lips and took another bite.  Jarra looked at me curiously, then picked up the pestle she used to make the cream and tasted a bit of it.  

“Okay, this isn’t bad,” she said.  “And the medicinal effect doesn’t work unless it is applied topically.”

“Very fresh, and the recipe the new healer was using just wasn’t as good,’ I said sitting the jar right next to the unconscious badger.  I watched him for several seconds as he lay there unmoving then relented and put a piece of celery in the jar.  

“Hey, what’s that over there?” I asked, gesturing towards a newly built structure.

“A powdery, they refine alchemical components into powders,” said Spencer before he looked back at Badgelor, and the empty jar.  

“We only looked away for a second,” said Jarra.

“He’s wiley, and hungry, and conscious,” I stated staring at the badger.  

“Leave me alone,” said Badgelor.

“Not going to happen,” I said.  “We’ve got to save the world.”

“I can still hear them,” said Badgelor, a hint of sadness coloring his voice.  He opened his paw exposing a small crystal.  It flickered for a moment then faded, the crystal slowly dissolving into dust.   

Shart whistled, impressed, “A dungeon core fragment?  For fecks sake, I take it back.  He did have something.”

“Had what?” I asked.

“It is a fragment of a dungeon core, he got it back in book five, it is basically a weaker version of a divine shard,” said Shart.  “It contains a spark of divine power.”

“So,” I asked.

“It could be used to store the soul of someone, or multiple people, even in Newark, briefly at least,” said Shart.  I pondered that for a moment before Shart groaned, “Dum Dum, it means he saved the souls of most of his people.  Any one of them that died near him, and I’m going to be generous with ‘near’, possibly all of them.  That shard would have been radiating the badger version of heaven to every war badger soul.”

“So even the general,” I asked.

“As far away as the LOOKOUT!” said Shart.  “He couldn’t save their bodies, but he did save their souls.  The ones who needed it anyway.  Why in Jersey had had that is a whole different question.”

I knew why.  

I looked down at my failed badger, who had traveled to Newark to help me and ended up saving his people.  

“I think you did better than anyone else could have, you saved the world, again,” I said as Badgelor shied away.  “Those creatures would have invaded Ordinal and killed everyone, but you stopped them.”

“We stopped them, my people, the last of my people,” said Badgelor.  “It doesn’t matter if I saved their souls if there aren’t any bodies to reincarnate into.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that,” I said.

“Just shut up,” growled Badgelor.  “I failed, again.”

Project tough love was go.

“Shart, Door,” I thought before asking Spencer, “This is my hospital, right, like I own everything here?”

“That is both ominous and technically correct, my liege,” said the cleric cautiously.

“And technically correct is the best kind of correct,” I said and opened a Portal.  Badgelor was distraught, upset, angry, and felt betrayed by life.  He was also a wiley old badger and realized there was only one reason I’d do that.  

“You asshole!”

“You disconnected me,” I replied as Badgelor rolled onto his feet.  

“A badger needs his privacy while he mourns his failures,” stated Badgelor.  

“I need to show you something,” I said, gesturing towards the portal.  

“Screw off,’ replied Badgelor, as he relaxed slightly.  My hand darted out at blinding speed.  

I almost missed my grab, despite the fact that he was weak from hunger and wounds to the soul.  He nearly got out of the way and only my Monk class allowed my hands the speed and grace to grab the badger, but as the old expression on Ordinal was ‘Grab the War Badger by the tail…”

Badgelor slashed at my arm with a speed I didn’t expect and my lighter traveling armor was not nearly up to that task.  The claws went straight to the bone, and only the fact that my bones were hardened kept me from losing the arm.  

I headbutted Badgelor, compacting the bed underneath the force of the blow.  For a moment I thought he was going to shift into his war form, but he didn’t manage to expand as the hunger was forcing his stamina to be too low.  Growling, he coiled up and lunged at me anyway.  Hundreds of years of being alone welled up into an out-of-control charge straight out of jersey.  

I blinked away, but he still grabbed me as I magically teleported which was new and terrifying.  Angry Badgelor’s speed was insane, rivaling that of the Sphinx.  Physics were still against him, and we flew through the portal landing on the other side in a nice-looking living room.  A bird chirped at us.

Badgelor growled, preparing for a second charge when suddenly a voice bellowed.

“Who is the mangy feckstick and what the hell are you doing damaging the review area,” bellowed a female war badger, “Drop and give me 20!”