LIGHTNOVELONLINE Lividia, you had one job
4/28 Afternoon
The bad news: we were outnumbered two to one by large, angry, armed canines unless I counted the imp.
The good news: I didn’t care about them half as much as I did about the Northshire Guards.
Darcell was quick to draw her dagger and mace, and recklessly lunged at the gnolls. She was very fast, but I was going to need to talk to her about that. I focused and smote the one closest to Darcell, pulling out my staff from my inventory and taking a defensive posture.
The assailant reeled back as a blast of light slammed into his shoulder. From the way he wailed and let go of the long knife he was holding, I think I managed to break something. Only two of them had stopped to attack Darcell; it seemed like their plan had always been to take each of us down in pairs.
I saw Drusilla taking a nasty gash in her arm before the last pair was upon me. I did my best to frantically fend off the pair of sword swinging hyenas, but it’s a lot easier said than done. For a few moments I thought my only real option was to hold out until help came, but it didn’t seem like a certainty.
Instead I barked out “shield,” conjuring a shimmering field of force around myself. I had no idea how long it would last with two gnolls pounding on it, so I glanced at my two companions. Darcell was bleeding from multiple cuts but still standing, having taken down the one I’d already struck. Drusilla was hard pressed, but her opponents were covered in boils and moving sluggishly. Noktog was harassing them as well, throwing small bolts of fire into their backs which seemed more painful than dangerous on their own.
It appeared that I was the one in the worst shape, so I focused on one of my two opponents in the precious few seconds I’d bought myself. My smite hit him dead in the forehead, sending the gnoll reeling backward, dazed but not killed. My second smite did a better job, leaving a bloody hole in his vaguely canine head, which was good because that’s when the other one’s sword bit into my leg. I’d been relying on the shield, and just forgot to block entirely.
“Shit, shit” I collapsed, hastily bringing my staff up to focus on defense. I tried conjuring another shield, but the second one was incredibly thin, barely slowing his next strike. I held him off, and managed to spit out a word of renewal. The pain in my leg started to fade, but not enough to stand on it just yet. I couldn’t take my attention off of this gnoll for more than an instant, but I needed him off of me. I waited until he seemed to be pausing for a breath and started to channel the light into a smite again. My ever so clever plan let another strike through on my other leg. I managed to get the spell off though, and it was a doozy fueled by desperation. This was the offensive equivalent to the surge of healing I had thrown Tony’s way. It bashed the unarmored gnoll’s head in, but it also drained away much of my strength.
Thankfully I already knew what to do in this situation, and pulled out my trusty arcane orb as I surveyed the battlefield. Things were not looking great. Neither Darcell nor her opponent had gone down yet, but she was bleeding badly from several cuts and he still seemed to be going strong. I threw a shield on her; it’s power mostly came from her own soul, so it was nice and thick like my first one had been.
Drusilla was in much worse shape, collapsed on the ground and holding a gut wound. One of her assailants was still on fire, writhing next to her, and her imp was probably the only reason she hadn’t been finished off. He was capering around the remaining gnoll’s feet, faking laughter with an edge of panic as he dodged certain death to the best of his abilities. A focused heal pulled her guts back in where they were supposed to go, and a word of renewal would hopefully get her back up to speed. I needed to stop casting now; I’d already used my orb to wake myself up, so if I wiped myself out again I’d just be wiped out.
Seeing few other options, I rushed the duel between Darcell and the gnoll, holding my staff like a baseball bat. Sergeant Llane would be so disappointed with my form, but I was banking on a surprise attack. I smashed the staff into the gnoll’s center mass, and Darcell drove her dagger deep into his stomach while he recoiled with pain. I doubled down and smashed my staff gracelessly over his head and shoulders until he stopped moving.
We turned around to help Drusilla but found that she had already managed to immolate our last assailant once she was lucid. The fight was over, thank the Light. Wait, did I seriously just think that? Whatever, the Light and I were bros now. It just helped me kill six people. It deserves thanks.
It also deserved thanks for what happened next, by which I mean me casting renew on all three of us until we didn’t have any injuries left, pausing and drinking water between castings. Darcell was swift to pat down our foes while she slit their throats, finding a bit of coin but nothing of good enough quality to justify bringing to Darkshore to sell. I had to ask, “so, do we just leave them?”
Drusilla shrugged. “I don’t see why not. We might want to drag them off to the side of the road so they are out of the way.” Neither woman seemed overly concerned. I suppose part of it was stress resistance, but in general they seemed to just see the whole event as business as usual. “This happen to you often?”
The bandit cocked her head. “Nah, normally I’d have to run when a group like this arrived.” Drusilla nodded agreement, drinking from a water skin of her own to recover her energy. Alright. So apparently gnoll attacks were common enough for these two to be blasé about the whole thing. I’d better keep that in mind.
•••••
The rest of our trek through Elwynn was thankfully uneventful. We came to a fork in the road with a few helpful signs posted. Lakeshire to the east, Goldshire to the west, and Darkshire to the south. Naturally, we headed south.
We moved a bit quicker in Duskwood, and we weren’t talking much anymore. Gnolls were bad enough, but we definitely didn’t want to deal with anything that might come at us out of the low hanging mists. Fog enveloped us, making it hard to see more than about twenty feet in any direction. When we saw a light in the mist bobbing in our direction, all four of us tensed up. A lot of that tension faded when we saw who was approaching.
Two humans took shape out of the mist, male and female. The man was carrying a torch in his left hand and a simple blade in his right, his companion was instead toting a rather massive sword. They were both wearing chainmail, trimmed with black cloth. They were as wary as we were, but obviously knew what they were doing with those swords.
“Ho, travelers. What brings you here?” The man took the lead, maybe because he was the one with the light. He had a brown buzz cut and a well kept goatee.
“I’m hoping to check in on a distant relative by the name of Abercrombie. He’s too old to be living in a place like this.” I figured establishing a connection to the old bastard quickly might help avoid questions later.
The woman pursed her painted red lips. “That old man still has family? Wow. I’m surprised we haven’t seen you before. I’m afraid you’re on the wrong end of Duskwood. If you’re not in a hurry you may want to consider circling around and coming in at the Westfall Bridge.” She had chin length black hair and clearly cared about her appearance from the light makeup; that seemed like an odd trait to find in a place like this.
“We are in a bit of a hurry, or we’d probably do that. We might leave that way, especially if the old coot doesn’t want to come with us. Are you two headed back to Darkshire? Is there any chance we could travel together?”
The man nodded with a smile. “One of the duties of the Night Watch is to see to the safety of travelers. We’d be happy to, though I’ll warn we keep to a cautious pace. Name’s Watcher Backus. This is Watcher Brownell. We’ll get you safely to Darkshire in a few hours.”
The rest of the journey was quiet. The watchers took up positions in front of us and behind, constantly scanning the mists around us for threats. I figured I could let my guard down a little if I was surrounded by Allies, and shifted to a new minor mission in my log.
Tits for Tat
Seduce Watcher Hutchins, convincing him to do something in return for a sexual favor. Both sides must follow through on the deal.
Reward: Lesser Waters of Lethe
I checked and confirmed that Watcher Hutchins was a dude, and sighed. I had no idea what “lesser waters of Lethe” were, but I figured they had something to do with memories. I still wasn’t up for a roll in the hay with a dude.
Of course, I wasn’t the only member of my retinue anymore. I had two beauties with me with enhanced libidos. They might be interested in seducing some guy for an escort on their way to our destination. I didn’t love the idea. For one thing, I didn’t want to share. That was probably silly given that I’d have at minimum a few dozen girls in my harem, but still. Further, I was pretty sure that the girls would do it if I told them to, and didn’t want to just start pimping them out. I’d bring up the mission. If one of them volunteered unprompted I’d let them do it, probably.
We arrived and checked into the Scarlet Raven Tavern. It had a quiet, morose crowd of men and women nursing their drinks. I saw Watcher Hutchins among them. I figured it was time to have a chat about the nature of our relationship, what I expected from them, and what I didn’t expect from them. I ordered some soup, and asked them to join me in the Discord channel. There was a lot to discuss.
••••••••••
4/27
Lividia was in pain. She had been hunting murlocs, just as she’d planned, and they had the audacity to fight back. Three of them had jumped her at once, injuring her wing and forcing her to the ground. Naturally she’d killed them all, with a combination of carefully placed claws and a blast of fire, but she’d been tangled up in a net and had to flee away from the lake. She was now curled up in some bushes, and it was so undignified.
She had to face the truth: she was small. Until she had grown a bit, Lividia would have this unfortunate handicap. She might even be better off in her human form, once she managed to take on her chosen visage.
That idea got her thinking; humans frequently did things that were absolutely silly for beings of their size and relatively weak magical affinity. It worked, though. Humans dominated most of this continent, even some of the dead ones were ruling a kingdom. How?
4/28
Lividia had decided she needed to learn how to be like a human, and then once she mastered it and was better at being human than any mere mortal, she would rule over them with an iron claw. Simple. If she learned how to punch above her weight like a human, she’d be able to supplant grandfather someday for sure.
She prepared, and in the evening she whispered the words that would turn her into a fine mortal form. She grew in size, and felt heavier. She glanced down into the water of the still lake and saw her new face, a dark haired beauty clad in a fine but simple green dress. She lost none of her strength or magic in this form, save the ability to fly. “Well, humanity. I hope you are ready for your new queen.”