LIGHTNOVELONLINE A Marginally Productive Evening
5/11 evening
I finished planning out the ritual. Well, four or five variations of it. Lividia and Irma were both only too happy to chime in with their ideas. Most of them were wildly impractical (what if you kidnap mother and bind her in arcanite chains?) or unfortunately didn’t work when I asked the rod (virginity apparently means no sex ever before, not no sex as a woman). One thing that was clear to me was that I needed a clear space and I figured I could set it up with the resources I had on hand.
“Vanessa. Is there any chance you could find me some space to work in? I need an area around the size of the inn in Darkshire, ideally? I need somewhere I can work undisturbed and preferably unobserved for several hours.”
“Of course my lord. Is there anything else about it you need? Indoors? Assistants? Time of day? Materials?” Good point. She could handle all of that for me. I pulled out my notes.
“Hmm. Well, if there’s a flat, solid surface that would help a lot. Enough paint for a wall, in purple if you can manage it. It’s a stretch, but I know your father has had dealings with Katrana Prestor; if you happen to have any of her hair or blood, or something she invested with a lot of magic I could use that.” I chuckled to myself, “while you’re at it, if you happen to have someone willing to lose their virginity in a weird ritual or someone who looks like Katrana Prestor on hand, that would also work out great.”
She hummed to herself and I heard the rustling of papers. “I can do four of those if you give me a day. It’ll be ready by tomorrow at dusk. If I could borrow Tony and Irma, my lord? They would greatly expedite the process.”
Well that was easy. But what the hell am I doing for the rest of the day now? I still had a necklace, so I figured I could work with that. Bartleby, being a serial alcoholic, would probably be in a tavern somewhere. I headed up to Keryn’s room and put on my Otto face. I wanted just a bit of disreputability. I picked Irma up, which was a reasonably pleasant experience with how much she squished against me, and sent her over to Vanessa after a quick check-in. After that, I opened up my amulet and found a successful mission update. Very good, Darcell.
I put my new upgrade to use immediately; the next mission was suspended until I set the location. It could either be tied to a specific person, or a specific region. I figured that I wanted to paint some targets, so I put the new minor mission in the Swamp of Sorrows.
Get out there
Talaada must befriend Scout Moso, who patrols the roads to the west of Stonard.
Reward: Talaada gains Communication Talent
Aww that’s cute. Wasn’t expecting anything that could be considered remotely wholesome here, to be honest. Especially not wholesome and rewarding at the same time. If Talaada gets communication talent she is going straight into the role of high priestess of the cult of love. Or missionary, or something. Or she could serve as an emissary to Stonard; I needed to remind myself that the Draenei weren’t part of the Alliance right now. If I set them up as a neutral faction, the Brotherhood of Love and Beauty really should get to know their closest neighbors.
I’d need to set her along that path. It wasn’t one of the most powerful talent perks, but it was still a 10 credit value on a minor mission. Worst case scenario I’d need to capture this random orc soldier and add her to the cult so she and Talaada would have something to talk about. Not ideal, but not exactly a problem other than the opportunity cost.
First things first though; I considered who was in Stormwind, faded myself, and teleported to Darcell. Better to show up in some back alley than in a noble’s house, right?
••••••••••
I did not arrive in a back alley, as it turned out. Instead I found myself overwhelmed by the smell of unwashed bodies. I let myself fade in so I could see, and found myself in a small room full of injured men. Darcell was seated in the corner, looking quite exhausted but unharmed, and a two headed ogre stood over her, looking threatening towards anyone that looked at her. Me included.
“Ahh. I suppose you must be the great Otto of Westfall I’ve heard about?” A man approached me with long, greasy black hair. He was wearing a red mask over the lower half of his face.
“Ah. Defias. Good. So. Care to let me talk to my subordinate and find out what the hell is going on here?” I had only a few possibilities in mind; what seemed most likely was that this was the Stormwind Stockades. Unfortunately that told me Jack shit; I knew it was a prison in revolt, but nothing else. The bosses weren’t exactly memorable and the instance mostly consisted of running in and killing a bunch of shirtless men in red masks.
“By all means. Don’t worry, she’s fine. Just a bit tired. She was only able to evacuate a handful of our most injured before she couldn’t pick anyone else up.”
“You in charge here? What can I call ya?”
“Yeah. Basil Thredd. Dangerous place to send a girl, Otto.” I looked around and realized that it was pretty clearly an all men’s prison, and Darcell seemed too tired to stand. The ogre bodyguard suddenly made more sense, and my estimation of Basil went up a bit.
“She was just supposed to do a bit of scouting and snatch a few trinkets. I wasn’t expecting her to rush in to say hello. But since she decided to expedite the process, I might as well ask. What’s the situation?”
“About as expected. We are bottled up in here and any time the guard tries something we give as good as we get, but then we come back and need to heal the slow way. They get to go get healed by a priest and have a good meal. Even after we seized the storeroom, we needed to keep rationing.”
I looked around and shrugged. “I can fix part of that. First though. Darcell, you ok?”
“Yeah. Yeah boss, just winded. I can get back to work soon.”
“Nah. You stay down for now. You made some trouble for me, but I can make it work.” I started cleaning up the mess. First thing I did was call up Em. I told her to go north to the road with the other chosen ogres and call me back when she was ready. After that, I asked Vanessa to finish whatever Irma was working on and send her to me. While I waited, I renewed anyone who looked like they had any kind of injury, fresh or old.
Irma arrived first and I put her to work conjuring some bread and muffins for the inmates. Darcell’s bodyguard got the first loaf; the other inmates called him Hamhock. The men were incredibly appreciative to have a beautiful woman handing them food and clean water.
They were somewhat less appreciative when I sent her back to Vanessa, sent a slightly revitalized and fortified Darcell to Duskwood to hang out at Raven Hill, and summoned in their place Em. I figured that she’d be less in danger of sexual assault by thirsty prisoners, and far better able to pick up large quantities of men and send them along their way to Stone Cairn Lake. Apparently Darcell had chosen there on the logic that Tony would know what to do. With nearly a hundred violent convicts, only about half of which were even loyal to the Defias. I’m glad I showed up.
Remembering one of my more difficult seeming missions, I spoke to Kam Deepfury. I needed to get him to dedicate his life to repairing a bridge, apparently? Without capturing him? Journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, I guess.
“Hey. You. You’re a dark iron dwarf, right?”
The dwarf in question, a shaggy fellow with coal black hair and slate gray skin, crossed his arms and asked, “What of it?”
“Are you Kam Deepfury? A friend of mine told me to ask you about the Thandol Span if I managed to get here.” He was instantly wary.
“What about it? What friend?”
“Confidential, but I’m here to get you out of here as much as I am anyone in the Brotherhood. I’ll work for anyone if the pay is good.”
“Hmph. Well, with that information? I can’t say I know a single thing about it.” He was lying. Seemed likely that the Thandol Span was somehow related to why he was in here. Given that it was a major quest, I had a sinking feeling that he was the one who damaged it in the first place.
“That’s fine. I was told by my employer, under orders from Emperor Thaurissan, to give you this and make sure you put it on.” I handed him the amulet. I know what you’re thinking; I’m not supposed to capture him. But it takes a minimum of 3 days to actually capture someone. Putting the necklace on him might make him a bit more pliable; I just need to be sure to take it off before he gets captured.
I quietly tapped his necklace, which put him at 150 hours to capture, and made him feel shame whenever he thought about Thandol Span. It was about the same plan I had for Bartleby. Throw a necklace on him and recruit him into the Rampant Lions. Hmm. Dammit. I’ll need to go with my other idea.
“Alright. I’ll contact you again once you’re out of here. Within the week. I’ll help you get back home.”
He frowned, clearly thinking I was working at some angle he couldn’t see. Which, to be fair, I definitely was. I’d already won the moment he humored me about the necklace. I handed him one of the remaining muffins from Irma, patted him on the shoulder, and told him to watch his back. At least this wasn’t a complete waste of time.
I called ahead to Auffrey, and requested that she go somewhere isolated. She let me know when she was ready, and I teleported to her. She was dressed in an elaborate green dress, and looked at my leathers with great distaste. “Undercover I see. Well. I can’t be seen with a vagabond at a party. Good luck with whatever you are doing.”
We parted ways and I wandered out. She’d been in a small courtyard on the palace grounds. A guard “helpfully” escorted me out when she noticed I “looked lost.” She was perfectly polite but with communication talent I could easily sense the disdain radiating off of her. It was no big deal; old town was right next to the keep anyway.
I quietly summoned Lillibeth, with orders to be silent and invisible. My map told me she was nearby, so I let her know the plan in text.
E: I’m looking for a guy named Bartleby. He’s in the mission log under “an intervention.” Look around for him, I’m hoping he’ll be drunk enough for you to work your magic.
Lil: Of course, I’d be happy to. I wonder what being drunk feels like.
Lil: Good news! We didn’t find anyone, but two women came to ask about healing on their own. They should be ready whenever you are.
I asked around a bit for a man named Bartleby who owed me money, and was directed to the Pig and Whistle tavern. With that, it was pretty easy to make my way to the right spot. Bartleby was, as expected, already a bit drunk. He was a huge, solidly built man with messy brown hair and a thick beard. I went and sat next to him, and Lillibeth settled into him, the amulet fading into existence around his neck.
“The fuck do you want, prettyboy?” Instant aggression. Not good. Little to no indication that Lillibeth’s influence was manifesting either.
“Oh I just wanted to talk to you. You seemed like an interesting fellow.”
“Piss off. I’m not here for story time. Be careful, the Piggin Whistle isn’t a place for prissy little things like you. Be careful, you might break a nail.” He genuinely just wanted to be left alone. I decided to play the long game; he was still drinking. The more drunk he got, the more influence Lillibeth should have over him. I just ordered a few beers and sat nearby. I let him get blackout drunk, and figured that I could just capture him.
When Lillibeth’s message came, indicating that she was going to try to push him now that he was barely cognizant of his surroundings, I went back over to sit next to Bartleby. I was expecting a rambling drunken confession of love from Lillibeth through the old drunken soldier. What I was not expecting was a glass bottle to the side of my head, but that’s what I got.
“Stay out of my head! Yer tryin to do something to me!” Lillibeth’s amulet was nowhere to be seen, but Bartleby was clearly clutching something; a small golden shield. An Insignia of the Alliance, in fact. He seemed more sober than I’d been expecting too; another application of the amulet, I assumed.
“Look man, I just wanted to talk to you. There’s nothing weird about it!” Gotta diffuse this one.
Lucky for me, it seemed like Bartleby had freakouts like this fairly often. Two guys, old war buddies of his, approached to check if I was okay, and nobody took his accusations seriously. Poor guy.
“Yeah. He was in Sir Uther’s regimen. He stayed for everything that happened in Stratholm when we left. Said this giant demon whispered in everyone’s minds when they were around it. Talked people into feeding themselves to it. He’s been real nervous ever since.” Ouch. Great. Trauma induced freakouts are not covered by the insignia’s magic. I really didn’t blame him for drinking if he’d been through the Culling of Stratholm. My plan was still capture, mind you. But now it was partly for his own good. And given his current state, it’s not a tonight kind of thing.
I gathered up Lillibeth and took her back to the swamp hut. One of the women had already left, but only Mary was in any state to try to capture one, so we went with that. I told Talaada of her assignment for tomorrow, trying to befriend an orc scout. She seemed excited to have more lessons tomorrow, but far more excited at the possibility she could do a special mission for me.
That was enough for now. I hadn’t done near as much as I wanted today, but there would always be slow days. I parted from the Brotherhood of Love; I had a perfectly good bed in Redridge to sleep in, I wasn’t going to ruin it.
