Mor’Ladim
5/8 evening
Thank the light, Ladimore was at the crossroads camp and ready to go. Same for the ogres on the southern end of town. I had a few hours left, and everything was in place. Abby, Darcell, Lillibeth, and Mary were on standby near the graveyard. Everyone else was gathered just out of sight near Eliza’s grave.
“You said not to start a war, so I just hired some mercenaries. Easy.” Ladimore accepted the ogres presence grudgingly. She obviously still thought the whole operation was strange, but she thankfully did believe that I was trying to help. “Your father was a veteran of three wars, and a great Paladin. I don’t know how much of that skill and power will carry over. We need extra muscle if you can’t talk him down. If so, bug out and join the B team. We will take him down and then you can speak with his spirit. If that doesn’t work, we will need to abandon this for a while. We can’t consecrate a grave that’s right next to a legion of undead.”
“Yes yes, I know.” She was nervous, and was testy as a result. I hoped she’d be a bit more personable as a member of the retinue.
I’d passed out bottles from Abby to Tessa, Ladimore, and Em, plus one for myself. Trolls blood potions, made from briarthorn and bruiseweed. They gave the drinker the ability to regenerate like a troll, though to a much lesser extent. A few dozen of these, drunk back to back for a few days, would even regrow a limb. It would be atrophied at first, but if someone else got an injury like Yanca’s then we could heal them. Today though, they were just to make sure that the front line wouldn’t bleed out. Em had been my first Ogre, so she’d gotten the spare. The rest of the ogres would just have to try not to die; such is the fate of those I don’t remember the names of. Dusk was soon, so we waited. I cuddled up with Lividia, and she kept watch through the mists for me.
••••••••••
Eliza rose from her grave at around dusk. When that happened, the rest of us tensed up. It was almost time. I told everyone to quiet down, and opened a channel to her amulet. When she saw him approaching she croaked out “Ho, Mor’Ladim. Thank you for coming. I hope that you can appreciate what I have to share.”
“I hope so too. I don’t care to leave my post for long.” His voice was surprisingly smooth and deep. None of the guttural quality I expected from my chats with Eliza.
“It would seem that you were not all alone in the world after all. Come forward, miss Ladimore. Show yourself.” We all waited with bated breath to see how he would respond.
“You brought the living here?” His voice started to distort as he spoke. “To judge me?” The richness of his voice broke down and turned into a feral roar. “The living have no place here!” He rushed Ladimore, and as he did he started to glow. Somehow, he wasn’t a former Paladin. He was a full Paladin even as rage enveloped him.
The younger Ladimore fled, as was always the plan, and the spellcasters readied their magic. As he materialized out of the fog, Mor’Ladim burst into flame, was pelted with three fire bolts of varying sizes, and took a blast of holy energy to the chest. He staggered for a moment, which seemed like a good sign.
Up next was a chorus of “me smash you!” from the Splinterfist contingent, who tried to rush him, swinging their staves and hammers. He started swinging his blade as they arrived, and when his sword made contact with their weapons, a resounding boom blasted the first two ogres’ weapons out of their hands. The next fell over in a daze as a radiant blast of force came out of Mor’Ladim’s hand, the fourth was slashed in the gut, the fifth was dazzled by radiance, and the last two managed to get in glancing blows, only to have Mor’Ladim’s aura of fiery light lash out at them.
He hadn’t seriously hurt any of them, the gut slash was healed with hardly any effort, but they were wary now. He was keeping them at bay while he disarmed them, using their bulk against them so they ran into one another. Worse, every few moments his sword would pulse with energy, and whatever it came in contact with next would break. He slowly reduced the number of ogres by playing defensively and then judiciously using his sword.
The backline wasn’t just standing by, of course. His bones were slowly blackening from the fire, and I was making sure the ogres who he knocked down stayed alive. Lividia was circling above him, diving for his head and shoulders immediately after each of his magical blast attacks, when he was at his least dangerous. Tessa was hanging back, ready to intercept him if he made a break for it. I felt pretty good. The ogres were taking a beating, we’d definitely need some trollsblood potions, but he was slowing down. More of their clubs were getting through, and I heard satisfying cracks mixed in with the angry bellows and cries of pain.
He went to his knees, and for just a moment I thought we had won. Then I saw the dome of light forming around him, and Drusilla let out a shriek as the fell magic rapidly built up in her body. He’d created a shield for himself, and neither the fel flames nor the ogres’ weapons could reach him. They kept trying of course, encouraged by his pained gasps.
His only pain right now was self inflicted; the light could heal the undead, as it was doing right now, but it had a side effect. Right now, as he healed himself, every dead nerve ending in his body was reactivating to let him know that he was on fire and had no flesh on his bones, and he probably felt like he’d just been skinned alive in the middle of a bonfire.
I shouted at the four ogres that were still standing, “Back off! You aren’t doing anything!” Em and one other ogre backed off as ordered, while one kept pummeling away and the last looked over at me confused. The two that didn’t flee, unfortunately, got to feel his fully charged blade when his shield faded. The one who had been pummeling away was cut in half, while the clueless one lost his leg from the knee down.
Things were not looking great, but if the game was anything to go by, he wouldn’t be able to do that again. Unfortunately, I was down to only two ogres that were still in fighting shape, and Drusilla had a bad case of fel corruption. While I stabilized the numbskull, Mor’Ladim was swarmed from behind. Eliza had pulled a few skeletons out of the nearby graves, and sent them after him. She joined herself as well, enveloped in a strange green glow that absorbed the blade’s shockwave.
“Em, Tessa, other guy, get in there!” I threw another smite as he went down under the dogpile. His light seemed weaker now, and it didn’t take long before he held a hand to his chest and restored his broken bones again in a flash of light. After that, his light was essentially gone. He got in a few more good hits, but nothing I couldn’t heal. Tessa’s shield could take a blow from his charged sword, though it staggered her, so there were two people able to go toe to toe with him. That was all the edge we needed, and we ground him down one final time
I shouted at my necklace, directed at Abby. “Now. Go. He’s down!” I slowly came down from my adrenaline high. That fight actually went pretty well, all told. None of my people were dead except that one ogre. I would need a lot of trollsblood, but we should come out of this with everyone okay. I sent Tessa and Auffrey to back up the B team while I tended to Drusilla, and hoped.
••••••••••
A few minutes later, a sword appeared in front of me. A pristine version of Mor’Ladim’s blade. It was over. My first major mission was completed. Good times. No bonus, but I had ten credits, a badass magic sword, and a night watcher under my control. Tomorrow morning, The Hermit would be finished too.
I gathered up the ogres; most of them were still able to move a bit. I moved them into one of the bigger intact houses before the night properly started. They were in no condition for armies of undead. I pulled out the last of my undead perfume and sprayed it all over the outside of the building. Once that was done, I headed inside, plopped down, and checked my app.
Livin the Emerald Dream
Gain control of The Cenarian Circle, becoming influential enough to reliably dictate policy relating to the world’s druids through political maneuvering, even if not by raw edict.
Reward: Lesser Insurance Policy- Every 48 hours, you may resurrect a single dead member of your retinue, retrieving them from beyond the veil of death unharmed and unchanged.
Well. That’s a hell of a step up as far as tasks go. Rewards too. Fuck it. I needed a break.