The Warlord Peace Summit

The following takes place following: A Taste for Diplomacy

Revy peered through her scope at the park across the street, right in the middle of Widdlington town square, and watched as a number of strange creatures arrived.

There were a lot more attending this freakshow than she’d been led to believe, but it was at least interesting to finally see some of the big players.

That must be the one Master Devlin called “Reg”, she said to herself, watching a muscular, trooned out looking human female — with a bird beak and sporadic feathers arrive alongside his large demon escort, apparently called Thelonious. Reg’s bodyguard.

Next came some weird-looking humanoid shark dude in a three-piece suit, and a large Uruk-like creature she didn’t recognize. They were followed by the penguin, wearing a tall, spiked crown and royal robes, with one of the muscular yet overburdened skunkbreeds hauling her bags.

Then came another skunk creature—taller and thinner this time—accompanying an elderly Asian woman dressed all in black, seated in an electric wheelchair that supported her up to the neck, apparently controlled by a tube she was blowing into.

There were a lot more humans than Revy had expected at this gathering, which surprised her. But the most surprising thing was what appeared to be a decorative wooden mask, floating on its own, gliding up to the table.

The Master was wired, so Revy could hear everything being said as she watched them take their seats. After a few minutes, Travers rose and started chiming his glass to get their attention.

Travers: Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for coming.

As you no doubt already know, I am Harris Travers — national treasure, legal virtuoso, and, for today, your most gracious host. Welcome... to this summit.

Firstly, I must thank Lady Von Hildendorf of West Widdlington and Lord Reginald Evangeline Drabak–Van Der Beak of Greater Widdicombe. Your assistance in organizing today’s proceedings has been... indispensable.

And now, to the other heads of our smaller, though by no means lesser, districts:

Mr. David Rubin-Goldenstein, and his Mossad colleagues, representing Wald Street and downtown Widdlington.

Mr. Teeth, distinguished loan shark of Walver Lake, pillar of the community.

Lord Humungus of the southern Badlands, formerly known as Waldobury.

Daimyo Sayuki Sing Kang Waldo, and her associate, the elusive Skunk VII, of Little Akiba.

Dr. Lawrence Frasier, esteemed witch doctor of Waldford Heights.

And of course, the sandwich enthusiast and Governor of Warburton, Mr. Guthrie Govan.

And finally, the most crucial representation of all—myself, of course, Harris Travers, and my colleague and best friend, Master Devlin. We speak not only for the illustrious Waverly Hills and the greater Wallywood region on behalf of our radiant Lord Waldo, but also for the inevitable and glorious future of the Waldonian Empire, under the inspired reign of Kaiserin Mayuri von Walverschmidt. Which, naturally, has not technically happened yet… but is also, in a metaphysical sense, unfolding as we speak. Elsewhere. In another time. Possibly another dimension. Um…

Everyone looks at each other, confused. The Master facepalms.

Travers: Anyway... my friends... how did things ever get so far? I don’t know. This war... it was so... unfortunate. So unnecessary. So much loss on all sides. I've had the pleasure of representing most of you, and I know that we are all reasonable people. We must pursue peace. At long last.

Lord Humungus: I agree. There has been too much violence. Too much pain. None are here without sin. But I have an honourable compromise. Just walk away. Leave your districts and I'll spare your lives... Just walk away. I will give you safe passage in the wasteland. Just walk away and there will be an end to the horror...

Travers: Uh... well, that's uh... that's a good start. I'm uh, I'm glad we agree about the ending violence part... Now about the whole "leaving the districts" part... Perhaps we could...

Reg: I came here out of curiosity to hear what you have to say, but I don't feel a great urgent need to end the violence. I have a great army at my disposal, as well as a powerful demigod on my side... Why should I agree to anything?

Travers: Uh... excellent question, your lordship... Master Devlin will explain... Master?

Master Devlin: What happened to you, Reg? How did you become this evil?

Reg: I was falsely accused of treachery, and ultimately beaten into a fine paste—all for the crime of being loyal to my masters. First Waldo. Then the Editor... That sort of thing tends to sour a bird...

Master Devlin: Then why are you at war with me?

Reg: I don’t see why I should even be speaking to you, you savage brute. You’re the one who accused me of treachery—just for staying loyal to Master Waldo over you. Then you nearly killed me for being a devout servant of the Editor.

Reg fluffs his feathers and straightens his cloak with deliberate pomp, a smug glint in his eye.

Reg: As for war? Simple. You're my mortal enemy. But then you weren’t even here. All that planning... and when I finally took my revenge on the Council, you were off on some “business trip.” Well, no matter. I have power now—thanks to my new master: Nilbog the Corruptor.

Master Devlin: You have always been a greedy shit, Reg. Always hellbent on your lust for power and wealth...

Travers: Gentlemen... please....

Tess: I demand Waldeo Drive in Waverly Hills! All those fancy shops with designer gear... I simply must have it. The war will not stop until I get it.

Travers: Okay. That’s good... Maybe we can come to some agreement...

Master Devlin: Aren’t you supposed to be in the zoo, Tess? Who let you out?

Tess: Shut up, you rotter.

Master Devlin: And who exactly do you control, Reg? An army of the deceased? What kind of accomplishment is that? No one follows you out of love or respect.

Reg starts to go red with anger.

Reg: I need neither...

Travers: Master Devlin... diplomacy.

Master Devlin: Very well. First of all, we cannot have slavery in this realm. So you all need to abolish it immediately. Reg, you have destroyed my neighborhood. What are you going to do about restoring it?

Reg: What? Waldobury?? I have no interest in that ruin... Talk to Humungus if you want it back.

The weird-looking humanoid shark demon speaks up. Mr. Teeth: As a legitimate businessman, of course it’s in my interest to see peace restored, so why don’t we talk about what we do want and see if we can’t work it out... Lady von Hildendorf seems only interested in Waldeo Drive... Master Devlin wants the Council and an end to slavery... What else? Larry: I too wish only for peace. My surgery is swamped with injured creatures flooding in, night and day. I haven’t had a holiday in weeks... Mr. Rubin-Goldenstein slams the table and stands up. DRG: I demand a blood debt! Justice for my murdered parents. By him! (points to the Master) Skunk VII: We also demand justice for what he did to my mistress...

It points to the quadriplegic Sing Kang in the wheelchair next to it.

Master Devlin: This one speaks?

Ed leans in behind the Master and whispers in his ear. Ed: Yes. Upgrade. New model... 7th generation.

Master Devlin: Oh dear.

Reg: But it seems that it’s not only me that desires revenge against you personally.

Master Devlin: Whatever. I’m used to it.

Suddenly, the “My prawns were off” woman appears and starts making a scene. Without a word, Mr. Teeth nods to his guard, Lurtz the Uruk-Hai, who unceremoniously decapitates her. The head tumbles onto the banquet table.

Master Devlin: Thank you.

The Uruk bows.

Master Devlin: Back to the matter at hand. The Council grounds at Waldobury. I want it back. As for Waldeo Dr., Tess can have her street. I have no issue with that.

Lord Humungus: The Council grounds are on Badlands territory. That belongs to us.

Travers: Uh... Mr. Govan... Please, we haven’t heard from you.

Govan: Hi, it’s Guthrie here.

Tess turns her head in disgust.

Tess: Why is this peasant even here? He has a factory, little more.

Govan: I’m here to make sure sandwich ingredients flow freely into Warburton.

Travers: Excellent point. Because ingredients are something we need as well. We would like to see trade resume so we can get our much-needed chemical burger ingredients. Also... we'd like the girl back, Lord van der Beak. Sir Goblin Slayer’s well-endowed wife... You can keep the robot; we have no need of it.

Reg: I suppose I'd consider it. She’s not really my type. I suppose I could hand her back, if...

Travers: If what?

Reg: If Master Devlin bowed down and kissed my feet.

Master Devlin: Forget it, you feathered freak.

Travers: Surely there’s something else we can offer in exchange?

Reg: That is my price. I’m quite content with the territory I have already. There’s nothing else I want.

Travers: Fair enough. Master Devlin?

Master Devlin: No, I will not kiss his feet... Also, I do want the robot back.

Travers: Oh dear... Let us have a short recess, shall we?

In the background, a withered and broken Stanbot 2.0 walks in. Everyone turns as he hobbles up to Van Der Beak. He has a huge gouge hole in his rear.

Stanbot: Master Van Der Beak, can I have some more oil please? My systems need it.

Reg: Silent, robot! I will give you what you need when we get home.

Stanbot whimpers away. The Master is seething.

Reg: The robot is my bitch. He stays with me. I’ve broken it in and will not part with it.

Master Devlin: The robot is mine, Reg.

Reg: Was...

Master Devlin: You fucking sadist!

Travers: Master Devlin! You are speaking out of turn...

Master Devlin: I dare you to tell the rest of them they are speaking out of turn.

Travers: I will if they are, but so far you’ve done nothing but throw around insults. Your diplomacy is a disaster!

Master Devlin: Perhaps I should remain silent then.

Travers whispers into the Master’s ear.

Travers: What I want is for you to kiss Reg’s feet. A quick and simple act. And we can get everything we want... Well, except the robot. But I think we should sacrifice him for the good of Waldonia.

Master Devlin: ...

Travers: Also, you seem to have a lot of enemies at this table. Did you really kill that young man’s parents and cripple the old crone?

Master Devlin: You might find these people are actually villains.

Travers: Really? What did they do?

Master Devlin: Don’t you remember that old crone is your wife’s evil grandmother? She showed up at your wedding to Mayuri and tried to blow up the church.

Travers: Oh... right, right... I didn’t recognize her with all the tubes and stuff. I thought she was dead?

Master Devlin: So did I.

Travers: Well, what about the other one?

Master Devlin: A vengeful Jew. His parents were evil. They wished to enslave us for profit. They had to go...

Travers: Oh dear... Well, how would you feel about a little jail time again? That might satisfy them.

Master Devlin: Out of the question! What the hell is this? I’m starting to feel like Jack Bauer... constantly being screwed over...

Travers: But you are guilty. You just said so.

Master Devlin: Guilty of what?

Travers: You killed his parents... for being Jews?

Master Devlin: The Jew part is irrelevant... He just thinks he’s a victim because he’s a Jew...

Travers: Well you brought it up?

Master Devlin: ...And it wasn’t just me. It was a whole mob at McMurdo. It wasn’t murder. it was a battle. Anyway, I’m not going to jail. The Master has done enough jail time already. Also, I’m not on trial here. You really are hopeless at diplomacy, Travers...

Travers: I was looking for compromise.

Master Devlin: Compromise? We stand to benefit from absolutely nothing you’ve negotiated so far. Yet you’re giving away so much to our enemies.

Travers: I’m trying to end a war, Master Devlin...

Master Devlin: Fine then. REG! How would you like Travers to suck you off?

Travers: Noooo... Master Devlin, you are speaking out of turn. Strike that from the record. Travers doesn’t—

Reg: No thank you. I have the robot for that. He’s quite good...

Master Devlin: Then would you like to fuck Travers?

Travers: MASTER DEVLIN!

Reg: No.

Travers: Wait, what?? Why not?

Reg: Not my type.

Master Devlin: What is your type?

Reg: Dragons. Real or robotic.

The Master shudders.

Master Devlin: …Travers, would you like Reg to rape me? Answer carefully...

Travers: Well, uh... I, uh... I didn’t think that was on the table. But I mean, if you’re offering to take one for the team? Meanwhile, poor Ermintrude is a sex slave in his dungeon. Why not spare her a thought...

Master Devlin: So you would allow this disgusting, roided-up tranny bird to violate me in front of everyone? Do you really have no loyalty?

Travers: Of course I wouldn't... but if you chose to... it would solve some of our problems. Would you?

Master Devlin: Of course I don’t choose to be raped...

Travers: Fair enough...

Master Devlin: ...yet you are offering me up like an aperitif?

Travers: I didn’t offer. You brought it up. I just asked you to kiss his feet and be done with it.

Master Devlin: And what are our demands, Travers? What do we stand to gain?

Travers: We're asking for Waldobury, Ermintrude, and trade. Access to supplies. In exchange — so far — for you kissing Reg's feet and giving up Waldeo Drive retail street. I'm sure if we satisfy Van der Beak and Von Hildendorf, the others will fall in line. They're not powerful enough. That's a hell of a good deal if you ask me. We’re getting way more than we lose.

Master Devlin: Why do you want me to kiss your feet, Reg?

Reg: I want you humbled. To show me the respect I deserve.

Master Devlin: You deserve no respect. You are office equipment.

Reg: A mere kiss upon my foot — not a lot to ask, is it? Are you really going to throw away such a generous deal? Think of the poor girl. Maybe I’ll go home and cut off those big juicy tits of hers. Mail them to you. Unless, of course, you give me what I want. Then you can have her back. So what will it be? Do we have a deal?

Goblin Slayer, who had been standing guard silently, starts getting agitated at the threat to his woman. The Master looks at him, solemnly.

Master Devlin: Fine...

The Master gets up and walks over to Reg. He kneels down and looks at Reg’s disgusting talons. With a grimace, he plants a kiss on Reg’s claw. Tess looks away in disgust. Reg looks very smug.

Immediately repulsed, the Master vomits all over Reg’s leg. Reg casually shakes his leg, flicking the vomit back into the Master’s face. The Master projectile vomits all over Reg’s face. Reg remains unbothered.

Reg: Such drama... but oh so very satisfying. And to think, your warlord would’ve done it for a few quid...

Master Devlin: Revy. Now.

Suddenly a laser sight appears over Reg’s beak. Everyone is startled by this escalation.

Master Devlin: Honour the deal, right now, Reg. Or lose your fucking face.

Reg: Yes, yes. Of course. Thelonious! Bring the girl...

The hulking brute in a mask, Thelonious, steps away.

Reg: I declare peace between the three main tribes. Humungous, you and your bandits will leave Waldobury immediately. No demon is to set foot in Waldobury or Wallywood from this day forward... except Waldeo Drive, which now belongs to the Von Hildendorf gang. Trade is to resume among all districts. Anyone causing trouble will answer to me.

DRG: This is outrageous! That anti-Semite killed my parents. I demand justice!

Tess: Shut your hole, you little rat... You still get to profit from the slave industry. And don’t forget — you only get to hold Wald Street because we allow it... We tolerate you...

Mr Teeth: Well, this sounds like a great outcome. Well done, Mr Travers.

Travers: Naturally. I am a master negotiator, after all.

Mr Teeth: Of course... And hey, if you ever need a loan, you’re always welcome in Walver Lake.

Lord Humungus: Not so fast... what do I get in return for the Waldobury Badlands?

Reg: You get as much petrol as you can carry. And to not have your tribe of freaks pounded into oblivion by our collective forces...

Lord Humungus: I see. Your terms are acceptable. We will walk away.

Thelonious returns with a chained Ermintrude, dressed in a Princess Leia slave-girl costume. Goblin Slayer walks up and hugs her.

Ermintrude: I knew you’d come for me.

Goblin Slayer: I see...

Reg: I had her nearby, just in case. Well... that settles it then.

Travers: Indeed. Well, thank you all for coming. Now let’s go home.

The other warlords depart.

Goblin Slayer: Master Devlin... thank you. I’m in your debt.

The Master silently nods and places a gentle hand on Ermintrude’s shoulder.

Reg: Oh, and Devlin... tell your warlord I’ll give him five quid to let me fart in his face. See you later! Bitch...

The Master does his best to ignore him. He can barely contain his disgust. He can’t wait to get home and drown his sorrows.

****

Back at the mansion...

Travers throws a party for himself, celebrating peace. He’s showered in praise. He is the man of the hour. National treasure status — restored.

Meanwhile, the Master sits in the corner, knocking back a bottle of vodka, still thinking about kissing Reg’s dirty tranny talons. He looks up to see Ed staring at him in disgust.

Master Devlin: Don’t give me that look, Ed. You made sure this happened. You wanted me to humiliate and violate myself. I feel disgusting... Thanks very much.

The Master drinks himself into a stupor and passes out.

Season 5 continues in The Price of Peace