One Last Task
By Rusty Priske
Edited by Fred Wan

Kr’chan sniffed the air as his eyes darted back and forth. He carefully touched a tree, twisted and withered, and then examined the putrid fungus that hung off it. He nodded in satisfaction and then dashed back over the ridge and called down, in hushed tones, to the other Nezumi who were following. “We are close. This way.”

Achirin nodded and motioned to the other Nezumi to continue. There were six others with him, all of whom were laden with large sacks. They were carrying them with some difficulty. They made their way up the hillside, staying alert and watching for any other motion around them.

As they reached the top of the ridge, another scout, Nem’tek, approached from their flank. “Achirin, there is a group of goblins approaching. I don’t think they have seen us, but they are coming this way.”

Achirin smiled grimly. “Good. Once we are inside, wait for twenty breaths before letting them see you.”

Nem’tek nodded and dashed off.

Kr’chan motioned towards Achirin and said, “Just over here.”

The group followed him around a copse of gnarled trees until the saw their destination. The stone had collapsed over the entrance at some point, but enough had been cleared for a man to pass through. It gave more than enough room for the Nezumi. Kr’chan pointed. “It is empty. It was once a tomb for a bad man but he is gone. It is a perfect place for us.”

One by one, with Kr’chan leading, the Nezumi filed through the opening and into the tomb. Once inside, Achirin started barking orders. “Leave the bags over there! We need the nets ready before Nem’tek gets here! Move!”

The Nezumi all scrambled to get into position.

Nem’tek looked up at the sky, trying to see where the sun was to see if it was time to act. The haze that settled over the area made it impossible to get a good read but he decided that he had waited long enough, and that…

He was interrupted by a goblin coming out of the underbrush, less than ten feet away from him. The creature let out a high-pitched scream to alert the others in his band. Nem’tek set off like a shot. He wanted to get the goblins attention, but not when they were so close! He leapt over a fallen log with the squad of goblins - a dozen of them based on his earlier scouting - close on his heels. He managed to stay ahead of them, but he was running over unfamiliar terrain. Any misstep would allow the goblins to catch up to him and then he would have to fight. Even if you could defeat the entire squad, it would spoil Achirin’s plans. That would not do because Achirin’s plans were essential to the Nezumi.

Nem’tek was faster than the goblins, but that advantage was negated as he dodged around trees and boulders. Finally, he reached the tomb and sprinted inside; making sure that the goblins could see where he went. He dashed down the passage and dropped into a forward roll once the passage opened into the main tomb. The allowed him to scoot under the falling net and the pouncing Nezumi. A couple of the goblins were not so captured, but the Nezumi quickly killed them before they could overcome their surprise.

Skirk had led his squad of goblins for a long time, nearly three weeks. Their duties were not complicated, which was good because Skirk was not overly bright, even by goblin standards. They were to wander the area around Iuchiban’s former Tomb and report back if anyone were to disturb it. Easy enough.

Then this damned Ratling had shown up. There was only one, and Skirk had stumbled on it when he was following a tasty looking roach. Skirk was not the smartest goblin, but he also wasn’t the dumbest so he called for the rest of his squad. A squad of goblins could easily beat one Ratling. Then they could have something even better than roaches for dinner.

Then the Ratling ran right into the Tomb! The next thing Skirk knew, he was under a net and being hit on the head with some heavy club.

When he woke, he was tied to a stake and surrounded by more Ratlings. Why they hadn’t just killed him confused Skirk. Then one of the Ratlings started talking to him in the human tongue.

“We not-not hurt you. This make you better. You see.”

If Skirk was confused before, he was more so now. The Ratling was making noises with its teeth and shaking a stick and looking sick. This lasted for some time. Skirk was not sure how long, but it was long enough that he started feeling bored and not paying attention.

Then Skirk started feeling funny. He felt like something was entering him, though he couldn’t see anything. He felt almost like he had a big meal. Like they had killed an animal and eaten their fill, but throughout his whole body and not just his gut.
He felt… complete.

As he tried to shake the cobwebs out of his head, the Ratling asked him, “How do you feel?”

“Odd.” It wasn’t until he answered that he realized the Ratling had spoken in their odd language, yet he had understood.

“What is your name?”

“Sk’rk.” He had been Skirk, but now… he was Sk’rk. This wasn’t a thought in his head. It was the truth and it filled his existence. More than that, he had always been Sk’rk, even though he was just Skirk.

It hurt Sk’rk’s brain to try and understand. He just knew that the Ratling, Achirin was his name, had given him a greater gift than he could ever imagine. Before he had only a name. Now… he had a Name.

Tch’wik unpacked one of the bags, and pulled out the bundles of sticks from inside. Achirin looked over the piles that were being created and smiled. “Now the Nezumi will go on forever. These sticks chronicle all of our history – as much as we know. If we pass from this world, there will still some mark to show that we have been here. This is our legacy.”

Soon the sticks were all unpacked, and the strings were cut. The Nezumi laid the sticks out, one by one, until the entire floor of the room was covered. Then, without a word, they turned and left the history of their race behind.

As the Nezumi left the tomb, they were met by the squad of goblins waiting for them outside. Sk’rk bowed to Achirin, much in the manner of the humans. Achirin grasped the goblins paw in friendship and said, “You understand?”

Sk’rk nodded. “We will protect the Tomb. Nobody will get the memory sticks unless they are Nezumi. Your history will be safe.”

Achirin nodded gratefully. Then the Nezumi started their trek back to the Shinomen Forest in order to join with the rest of their kind to face Tomorrow.