The Scramble [Complete]

[PepsiWhirda]

For the second time in as many minutes, Whirda laughed. Foolish women, petty squabbles, an unspoken undercurrent of too many newcomers vying for leadership of their disparate band... it all reminded her too much of Waterdeep, of her childhood. She wanted nothing to do with it.

"Brilliant strategy," she sneered. "Go alone, and may the gods have mercy. Test our theory of reincarnation so I don't have to."

"This is wrong," said the blonde, with all the emotional intensity of a summoned automaton. "We would not have been brought here like this if we weren't meant to stay together."

The orc woman looked troubled, tense, wired for action that wasn't yet promised to come.

"In my world," Whirda said, "in my profession, groups as discordant as ours meet a swift end on the edge of a blade. Or, in this case," she met eyes with the armored woman, gestured at the cannon hanging at her side, thought of the blue beam she could summon, unlike any magic or technology she'd seen in the realms, "perhaps worse."

"This is not your world," said Eighteen plainly.

"Eight gates," Whirda said.

"What?"

"Eight gates," she said again, more to herself than to anyone listening. Then, to Eighteen, "Look past the orc, past our observers, do you see that?"

Eighteen turned, and when Whirda saw the flash of recognition she continued. "That gate, if that's what it is, seems like the only way out of this place." And who'd want to stay here, given the choice? "There's seven more, all different." She pointed them out, one by one. The group had moved away from them, fascinated by yet another newcomer in dire need of an attitude adjustment, this one red-skinned and screaming.

"I see," Eighteen said.

"Eight gates," Whirda flashed a grin, "eight choices. Which will you choose? That one looks interesting." She pointed to a gate crawling with vines.

"I'm sure we will make a decision together."

"Together?" Whirda said. "In the time that'll take, our observer friends will have called in enough reinforcements to slaughter us all where we stand. I agree with our large friend over there on one thing: I don't want to test this theory of reincarnation. Not yet. Not till I've learned more."

Her companion didn't reply. Whirda set her jaw. "Join me if you like. I'm going." She unsheathed her blades, as much a mechanical act as one of necessity, and stalked off toward the viny gate.