Off and Away!
5/2 late morning
After a short tutorial on how to gain altitude by flying in tight circles, we were off to Yorgen’s camp. We landed on the shore about 15 minutes from the island and returned to our human forms.
I couldn't help but think that I should look more formal with Lividia draped over my arm, so I took my original muscular form and put on the priestly vestments Anetta had helpfully put into my inventory. They were simple but fine garments; pristine white with purple trim. I just summoned them directly onto my body and tied a few straps. Lividia gave my large frame and fine robes a once over and nodded approvingly.
I decided that as delightful as Lividia was, she had all the tact of a rampaging bull, so I quietly updated her settings. I didn’t want to change her, really, but I wanted her to be careful at least in front of other people.
Disobedience: Embarrassing or causing trouble for Erich- shame
Obedience: Acting the part of submissive arm candy in front of non-retinue members. Negative emotion reduction
With those, hopefully she’d do her best to avoid causing a scene, and would just relax any time she was being arm candy. That might actually be a combo to remember: negative emotion reduction paired with something distasteful would mask the distaste. Lividia seemed only too happy to play the part of doting consort to start with, but for others? I was jotting that down.
When we approached, only Lars was sitting there. At first I worried that I’d somehow scared off Sven, but then I heard snoring from inside the tent. Of course they didn’t sleep at night. What kind of idiot would try to stay exclusively diurnal in Duskwood?
Me. I am that kind of idiot.
“Hullo, stranger. I’m Erich. Erich Bismark. May I enter your camp?”
Lars looked over at me, an obvious priest escorting an obvious noble, with a bemused look. “Of course, Mr. Bismark. How can we help you?”
“I was hoping to speak to Mr. Yorgen? I am trying to investigate the nature of the malaise in Duskwood, and I have heard rumors that he may have seen some unusual sights many years ago.”
“Oh” he went pale. “You mean the Dark Riders?”
“Yes, potentially. I’ve heard many stories of dark happenings in this region. I’m trying to piece them all together.” I was blanking on the Dark Riders. Something about collecting magic items? They sounded like Nazgûl but I wasn’t sure if they ever actually appeared in the game. On a positive note, The Company didn’t have them as the biggest threat in Duskwood. Which meant they either were weaker than Morbent Fel or they weren’t here.
“Well, if you want to know about that he’s the one to ask. They’ve never left any survivors who saw them up close, but Sven saw more than most anyone we’ve talked to about them. They’re right monsters, whatever else they are. They come, and they kill everyone in their way, everyone they see. We don’t know why, either.”
“Truly awful. But don’t worry. I am just looking for anything we can follow up on. Anything at all. When will he be available to speak to?”
“I suppose I could go wake him up. He’s liable to be grumpy, but he’ll tell his story to anyone that’ll ask. I think he’ll be happy to know that someone’s looking into it.”
He was indeed both happy and quite grumpy. He gave me a tale of woe. I felt for the guy, but I was here for the mission, not his sob story. Eventually he got to the good part, but I’d been sitting there long enough that I almost missed it.
“When I returned, I saw a shadowy figure skulking near my barn, burying something. He fled before I could catch him, and I couldn't linger. I was hot on the heels of the Dark Riders, so I never discovered what was hidden.”
“I can work with that. I’ll find it and get it back to you, as quickly as I can. Deal?”
“Deal. We’ve been focusing on mapping out the way; I need the peace of knowing what lies under that stump. If we have any luck at all, it’ll be something that will tell us something we can work with.”
I had him draw me an outline of his farmstead and where I needed to investigate, which I took a picture of for reference later, and got directions to his old home with a few landmarks.
“It has been lovely speaking with you, but I’m afraid we must take our leave. Come Lividia, let us leave these fine gentlemen to their good work as we pursue ours.”
••••••••••
“Why exactly are you seeking this dirt pile, my king?” Thanks to athletics talent, I had progressed enough with flight that we could easily chat while we glided along above the treetops. I filled Lividia in on the mission system as we flew.
“So these tasks, when completed, grant you power and resources from nothing? More efficiently than extracting them directly?” Would I ever be in a position of so much power that missions wouldn’t be worth pursuing? So far I doubted it, unless they scaled in difficulty with my level of power and influence. I’m pretty sure I’d eventually put together a task force with the sole job of doing as many missions for me as possible around the clock.
“Usually. The ones we are working on right now are minor things, but they can give us useful items, or a reasonable amount of money. There are bigger missions that give correspondingly bigger rewards as well, see?”
“Very well. Why are you doing them yourself though? Don’t you have servants?” I noted that she didn’t say “other” servants.
“Yes, but they are mostly seeing to other things.”
“Digging in dirt just seems to be a task unbefitting a king.”
“Maybe. But I told you I’m not a king yet. These missions are important.”
“Typical human. It’s impressive, but I’m starting to see why dragons don’t obsess this much over every little advantage.” That made me laugh. She wasn’t wrong, I’d been in a cycle of near constant hustle since I’d gotten here, at least compared to my old life. If that’s what she thought humans were all like, she’d probably be disappointed if she ever realized they mostly just worked to live until the next time they could get a bit of leisure. Maybe I’d formalize that reverence for humans in general later? There was something very endearing about her putting humanity on a pedestal, and her comment made me worry that the shine was starting to come off for her.
••••••••••
Yorgen Farmstead was occupied; pretty actively in fact. The field had a thick fence around it, which looked to have been reinforced. My draconic eyes were able to pick out the red masks everyone was wearing, and I was honestly a bit baffled as to what the Defias were doing here. It was near the border into Westfall, but they hadn’t exactly pacified Westfall yet so why were they putting so much effort into fortifying a farm in zombieland? I wasn’t really planning to find out; it wasn’t my problem. I told Lividia to keep circling while I attempted to quietly swoop into place, landing near the edge of the wall, behind the farm house.
The stump near the barn still stood out. The ground around it had dead grass; the dirt mound didn’t. If this lightforsaken place had a functioning ecosystem then something would have grown by now, but I’m pretty sure this whole region just subsisted on death or maybe fel magic now. I shifted back into Otto, throwing on leathers and Darcell’s old mask as I did. Itchy burlap thing; I’d need to replace it if I ever decided to spend more time with the Defias.
Nobody really questioned a guy over near the outhouse digging in the ground, thankfully. They seemed willing to accept that someone within the walls wearing a red mask was probably one of them at first glance. After a few minutes digging, I found a shallowly buried and badly water damaged book. I opened it very carefully; it was barely legible, but barely is still something. “Jackpot” I thought as I felt a small weight appear in my pocket. I intended to give it to Sven when I had the time, and apparently my intent was enough. I put it in my inventory.
The memory charm seemed to be a short glass rod with one end faintly glowing. I had fuckall idea what it would do, but for obvious reasons I assumed it would do it to whoever I touched with the glowy bit. Maybe Drusilla would be able to puzzle out a bit more. While I waited for an opportunity to vanish, I checked the new mission.
Burn, Baby, Burn
Start a fire at the Yorgen Farmstead in a place where it is very likely to spread.
Bottled Consent
I looked at it for a moment. It would be so easy to do. There was an old farmhouse right over there. Unfortunately I’d decided to treat the Brotherhood as real people with real legitimate concerns, so I wasn’t going to burn down a building that around thirty of them seemed to be living in.
“FIRE! It’s a fire!”
“We’re under attack!”
“Dragon!”
“Get to the well!”
I felt a bottle drop into my pocket, and looked up to see the roof of the farm house had been sprayed by a burning liquid. Dammit Lividia. I decided to be blunt, and used apportation to return to the house with Drusilla. I then summoned Lividia in the same way. She seemed alarmed by the abrupt summoning at first, even scratched the floor as she spun around with an arched back, and then relaxed when she saw me. Until she heard my voice.
“You acted against my wishes, Lividia.” She froze, looking up at me wide eyed as I towered over her small draconic form. “I had just decided not to do the exact thing you did without consulting me. I am very disappointed in you, this is an embarrassment to me. You harmed a community of my fellow humans unprovoked.” I chose my words there very carefully. She didn’t seem like the type who would take a scolding to heart normally, but I’d implanted a few shame triggers in her. I wanted her to feel bad about this.
She was squirming with shame, while Drusilla and Tessa looked on with bafflement at my appearance and company. Drusilla only needed to process the dragon; Tessa was also clearly freaking out about me looking like a member of the Defias Brotherhood. “I just wanted to help.” I wasn’t actually all that broken up about the house; bottled consent sounded interesting to me, and this moved us along in the queue for minor missions. I didn’t want to let her off easily, though. I smiled as I thought about what would be the best punishment.
“For the next three days, I suspend you from your position as my consort and all duties and activities that require a human form. You will remain in draconic form exclusively.” Combined with my plan to make her idolize humanity a bit more, making her natural form into a punishment seemed like a bit of fun. I wasn’t really hurting her; this was barely a time out.
“No! No, I'm sorry! I didn’t mean to defy you, my king!”
“Remember this in the future; you deserve this punishment right now. You can contact me with your necklace, and if you are going to initiate violence you usually should do so. Now go sit in that corner.” She stared at me mournfully and slowly made her way to the corner, where she curled up like a cat and watched me. I didn’t want to crush her spirit, but I was legitimately annoyed with her. I was the one in charge here and she needed to understand at least that. A shame I wouldn’t get to sleep with her today, but that was firmly a human form activity. I hadn’t had any desire for her small dragon body even when I was a dragon as well. I checked my new minor mission while I cooled down.
What You Looking At?
Capture Rag’rok Stonehand, a Splinter fist ogre living in the Vul’Gol Ogre mound
Mission Ticket
Dammit. I didn’t have time to capture anyone; unless I could convince Rag’Rok that the necklace was a purely good thing and he should lean into it, he wouldn’t be captured before the raid. My current plan was to try to join the raid as a walk-in volunteer the day of, and if I couldn’t do that I’d just cancel the mission with a ticket. Easy. I’d already used my daily refresh this morning, so I guess I just had an evening to kill. Only question was how I’d use it.