Page 28 of Ogres Don't Play

“Sure. Here, if you put the platform down next to the lamp, I’ll set it up.”

She slowly lowered it down, and I busied myself, expanding the legs, and tapping the braces so the whole thing wouldn’t collapse under Lanise’s weight. Once it was set up, three feet off the ground, I climbed up and pulled out my harp.

“Come on, Lanise. This is the moment we’ve been waiting for.”

If how slowly she pulled out the harp she’d carried on her back was any indication, she had not been waiting for this moment. After thumping the platform so it shook, she climbed up and stared at me. “Now?”

I strummed my harp. “Now we play. Do you see that streetlamp? It’s almost entirely out. We’re going to bring it back to life. You know the song we played earlier? It’s the first maintenance spell that will help clean out the lamp and bring it to life. Go ahead.”

She looked at me like, ‘and we needed a platform to clean a lamp?’ but she only played the first line of the maintenance spell, and the lamp immediately flickered brighter before it once again went dark. Hm. Looks like someone had put some magic into keeping that lamp burning very low. I glanced over at the shack. I wonder who that could have been.

I played a particular number of notes, hard, staccato, and the lamp flared up and, with a popping crackle, continued burning, blue flame mixed with gold until it made the first sounds it had in who knows how long. The lamp sang so badly, so out of tune, that even Lanise shuddered.

It was like nails on a chalkboard, but I ignored it, and continued playing the song that would bring it back. I played around Lanise while she kept on with that simple tune, and eventually I noticed the first shadow moving in the distance around the lamp. A predator. Obviously. Everything down here was a predator, but I had an ogre with me. Still, one ogre for however many mangy werewolves lived in this part of town…

Of course, I also had my harp. I’d killed a lot of people with my music, and while that was something I’d put behind me, I wouldn’t feel bad using my knowledge of war magic to defend myself and my ogre assistant if it came to it. Of course, that would also damage the city, and since we were underneath another city, that could very well kill us if it collapsed. War magic was definitely a worst-case scenario.

“Music Master,” Lanise murmured, obviously seeing the moving shadows, but she kept playing her part like a trooper.

“Yes, I agree. The lamp is absolutely the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. We’re heroes, Lanise, saving the abandoned lamp on the edge of the undercity like truly noble warriors.”

She snorted.

Yes, well, she needed to work on her propaganda. There was no cause noble enough that it didn’t need propaganda. Finally, with a tinkling sigh, the lamp was in tune, and it played its part of the Singsong symphony with the sweet enthusiasm of a lamp that had been left in the dark for far too long.

“All right, Lanise, now transition to the second part we worked on.”

She fumbled over her strings until she finally landed on the right combination of notes that left a solid beat and chord progression for me to build upon. She was as steady as a metronome, which may have been a symptom of her lack of expression, but she was definitely exactly what I wanted for this attack. I mean, performance.

I heard a distant howl. No, that wasn’t very distant come to think of it, but I didn’t think about it, or notice the shiver it sent down my spine, not when I had strings to pluck. I started singing, because I needed to get the platform operable before any of the predators decided that an ogre with a harp wasn’t enough of a threat to keep my pretty throat from getting ripped out. Werewolves always mentioned how pretty my throat was, right before they threatened to rip it out.

Being a travelling musician for years before I settled down as Music Master as well as my years in the HARPS had given me a certain ability to navigate extremely dangerous situations, but I looked particularly sweet and delicate, vulnerable, which would always bring out the predators before they learned that I ripped out things even more delicate than throats. Pride, for instance.

The shadows spread towards the platform as more than wolves took interest in my performance. Our performance. Lanise was doing a stellar job with her part, even as her anxiety increased. I could feel her concern as more and more of the shadows grew in this very unsavory spot of the world. I couldn’t afford to be concerned, not when I had to focus on the oratory bit of this performance. I sang:

In the heart of darkness, city draped in night,

Assassin bomb, exploding with spite

Pain and misery, a symphony of pain,

We rise from the shadows, vengeance and bloodstain.

I took a break to play a riff that brought the shield to life around the platform. It was incredibly easy, because elven runeshad already been burned into the underside of the thing. It was invisible, but it would stop a rotten tomato as well as a battle axe. Once it was in place, I felt slightly less nervous, but Lanise was still watching me with low brows, like she was considering personally decapitating me.

I sang the next verse, putting more volume and emotion into it.

Through urban maze we walk unbroken,

Warriors of music, in words that are spoken.

Darkness and light, a fusion of song,

Uniting forces, the weak will grow strong.

I played another complex piece that brought another layer of the shields alive. I’d probably need all of them plus a few extras tied to my blood before we were finished up.

I switched to a major key and sang the chorus. They’d be hearing it a lot by the time I was finished.

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