Demonborn's Fjord

by Dante Sakurai

  “Is she holding up alright?” Lance asked.

  “Yeah. She’ll be fine.” If not, she would respawn back at Greenwood Castle. No worries were had.

  “Can she breathe fire yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Any skills?”

  “Nope.”

  Lance was trying to mask annoyance under a cheesy grin—because they were down one party member due to Idra’s presence. Double and triple raid parties were generally a bad strategy; only those in the same party were immune to most kinds of friendly magical splash damage. Jonathan understood from his first days on Sortis. He smirked at the memory of joining in on hundred-man brawls against Mutated Jungle Snakes and Undead Jungle Snakes. Total chaos!

  However, that did not mean all double raid parties were bad. Jonathan asked, “Do you think a double raid would’ve been better? Nargol had two charges on Valdraed.”

  Lance answered after a thinking moment, “We have three melee. One misplaced Arcane Blast would wipe both.”

  Makes sense. “And a dragon.”

  “Exactly. Imagine if she could breathe fire.”

  A nervous laugh had to be sucked in. “Its good these forests fight back against wildfires.”

  “And Demon fires.” This bland small talk was nice. Jonathan could not imagine having to survive out here in the Arctic all by himself. He would go mad by day three.

  Misty skipped near. “Hey, you two, I’ve been thinking about what Nargol said about the Demonic ruins. I think the LeMorts may have found it. In the Royal Guard’s sketches, they were still Humans, but in Gabby’s video, she was a Demon.”

  Lance sliced her a serious look. “You’re saying they didn’t start with the Demonborn Fate?”

  “I think they started with The Exile.”

  “And they stumbled on the ruins, unleashed Hell on a Troll settlement while becoming Demons themselves?”

  As Lance drew his next breath, the chatbox trilled.

  Dorian Ambersworn: I see the Trolls’ burned settlement.

  He was standing on a high branch.

  Lance Rider: How far?

  Dorian Ambersworn: Four or five kilometers. I think I also see the manawood tree, but its pretty small. There might also be a narrow gap in the mountains.

  Lance Rider: Great. We’ll check out the settlement, then the tree, then let's see what’s on the other side of the range. Start drinking potions.

  Like a good party member, Jonathan fetched a vial of greenish-blue liquid. He swallowed the sour concoction in one gulp. Invigorating magic exploded from his stomach, a buff fading in next to Smoke Stealth’s.

  Force of Giants, Agility Potion (29 minutes, 59 seconds remaining)

  +10 Agility

  For the price of ten silver a dose… it could be better. Jonathan drew his hand-and-a-half sword of Adamantite and guided Idra to his side. Her talons were longer than they had been this morning, sharper. She was growing strong. Together, they were ready for anything. A man and and his best friend: a dragon.

  56

  Tasha’s cooking was inferior to Gabrielle’s. Today’s Well Fed buff was lower in quality compared to Gabrielle’s worst stew of these past weeks. Perhaps Tasha’s moodiness had bittered the pot, and her mood was only worsening thanks to her sub par dish.

  Rowan wasn’t going to keep prodding her, especially after that Necromancer comment from earlier.

  She was still going on about it—even now, while this party of adventurers and one NPC hiked up the mountain pass. Leading ahead, she said to Ayla, “Did you hear? Our great Lord has made a caretaker. I’m Zaine’s equal now.”

  Ayla snorted. “What’s wrong with Zaine?”

  “He’s like what? Sixteen?”

  “So?”

  “You’re trolling again.”

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  Inwardly chuckling, Rowan tuned them out and drifted closer to Gabrielle. She was riding Mossy. Those metallic legs were a sight to watch, like the inside of a well-oiled engine. He was enticed to jump on. More than just enticed. This was a mount fit for a Demon king.

  He asked, “Is she a two-seater?”

  “Huh?” Her head dipped, her crimson eyes meandering to him.

  “Can she support another person?”

  “Ah… Mossy says she doesn’t like ya. So… nope.”

  He grumbled, “And why doesn’t she like me?”

  “Ya killed all her children, duh.”

  “I killed her children? I didn’t throw a single grenade.”

  “Hehehe. She know’s you’re in charge, silly.” Her tongue poked.

  “She can always make more children. Why hasn’t she already?”

  Gabrielle’s gaze flicked to Mossy’s skull, then back to him. “I think she need the manawood tree to lay eggs, seriously.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “She says you don’t make any sense.”

  A facial tick pulled a muscle above his eye. “I’m sure she did.”

  “Hehehe. I think she needs a daddy-spider without the manawood tree.”

  “Okay.” He sipped an ice-cold breath. “That makes sense. We’ll let Mossy stay at the tree in that case, assuming we can’t plant a new one closer by.” He looked at Skylar, who was lagging behind by five or six steps. Those Elven eyes were baggy. Bad dreams? “Yo, Sky. Will the manawood yield seeds?”

  He didn’t answer. His gaze was stuck on something—on Ayla’s backside. His gaze was the epitome of blind young lust. He mumbled, “Wha? What?”

  “The manawood tree,” Rowan said with his classic smirk. “Will it yield seeds?”

  He shrugged, his eyes still glued to Ayla’s tight leather pants. No answers. Only lust.

  But Gabrielle had answers: “Found a thread. A guild in Faeriewood is building a base around one. They say it drops acorn pieces that need to be combined in a whole seed.”

  He grunted in approval. “How many pieces?”

  “Three thousand. Takes like years to get.”

  He choked on frozen saliva. “Now you’re trolling.”

  “Heh. Wish I was.”

  Spinning around, he sought out good ol’ trusty Luthias, who was lagging behind as usual. “Do you know anything that can speed up—”

  “I do not.” He was a tad irate.

  “Thanks for you input”

  “Why would I withhold knowledge? You would inevitably discover the information you seek through another means. Lying here would only cause unhelpful animosity between us.” He was very irate this morning. Not enough sleep?

  “Sounds about right.”

  “Your distrust in your subjects will only hinder your ability to rule in the long run. We are as honorable as you are fair.”

  “Honorable until you’re not. You’re not perfect.”

  “Have I done anything to cause distrust?”

  “Luthias, I believe things of living flesh and blood are inherently selfish. They live by base urge to feed, seek shelter, and reproduce. Any higher thought is purely secondary. You’d be surprised how easy it is to corrupt even the most noble”

  Luthias did not have a rebuttal. He only closed his eyes and tucked his hands behind his back.

  Gabrielle whistled. “Gotcha there, Luthias.”

  Skylar yawned, then said, “Sure got me.” His eyes shifted left, right, left again.

  Then, at the bottom-left of Rowan’s view, a separate chatbox expanded on top of the existing one. A chat that included Gabrielle, Skylar, and himself beeped a higher tone.

  Skylar Everbright: So how about that “mate” you promised way back? You were serious, right? I’ve been a good boy like you asked.

  Rowan’s jaw sagged. Oh, yes, Skylar was goddamn serious. And why was mate in quotes? This couldn’t be a safe chat by any stretch.

  Gabrielle’s cheeks puffed out, her eyes wider than ever. She tore her gaze away from the good boy, looking up at sparse clouds.

  Gabby LeMort: All yours, Lord LeMort. Dun’ be dumb about this!
^_^

  She left the chat.

  Thanks for the back-up, Lady LeMort, Rowan thought sourly, then seriously considered appropriate next steps. Were there any correct steps at all? He looked at Ayla, who was leading the way with a temptress’ strut, then back at Skylar, who was a blushing tomato head, who had a look of innocence despite this very-not-innocent request.

  Rowan softy cleared his throat, typing into the upper box.

  Rowan LeMort: You absolutely serious about this? Answer carefully. Just think about what you’re asking for. What if you get banned?

  Skylar shrugged with a near invisible subtlety.

  Skylar Everbright: I think it’s part of the game. I mean Synaptic must’ve known this was going to happen with these slave enchants. And Ayla agreed to be your slave…

  Part of the game? Feature or a massive bug? Rowan was inclined to the latter. He wouldn’t be surprised if sweeping patch notes were to hit within the day or hour or the very next second.

  And this was going to give this fjord a terrible, terrible name. Every faction would be on bad terms. Did Rowan wish to be that kind of bad guy? The whole playerbase would loathe his guts! Well, the whole playerbase minus perverts like Skylar. And most importantly, their MyTube channel would also take a hit.

  Do I want to be the lord of pervs?

  The answer was a resounding no.

  But a compromise was possible. A half-step would be for the best. A temporary placation. A subtle nudge and no more than that. Playing wingman was fine. No more. He drew a thick red line at that.

  With great reluctance, Rowan tugged Ayla’s slave thread.

  She reacted in a shivering heartbeat, both for her and him. Her face was a combination of annoyance and fright as she doubled back with a cute run. “What is it?”

  He said in an overly confident voice, “You’re pulling too far ahead. Tasha! You also back up! Stay well within Skylar’s range.”

  Tasha marched back with a unhappy attitude. She didn’t question the orders.

  Ayla asked, “What’s his range?”

  “Ask him.”

  Her eyes rolled. “Skylar. What’s your range?”

  Skylar was all smiles. “About a hundred yards, but fifty for a sure-shot. So… stay within like ten.”

  “Ten?” Her fingers touched her hip.

  “Actually, five to be safe.”

  Ayla only scowled at Skylar, then at Rowan’s helmet, then up Mossy’s back at a whistling Gabrielle, a burlesque tune coming from her lips (thank you very much). “Lord LeMort, what are you trying to do here?” Her tone was both lilting and sharp.

  “I’m trying to keep everyone alive.” His voice was higher pitched than usual.

  Tasha offered an upturned empty palm. “Did you forget we’ll respawn at the Misty Highlands?”

  Cutting the whistle, Gabrielle said, “Did you forget ya were spotted? There’s probably guards lookin’ for ya everywhere.”

  Tasha’s complexion flushed. She looked away.

  Rowan took a deep breath. His lungs stung in the cold. “Let’s just not die, period. It’s best if we get in practice. Relying on respawns isn’t the the best strategy.”

  Gabrielle said, “Yup. No-death adventures is huge bragging-rights. Ya know? For the channel.”

  Skylar nodded with too much enthusiasm. “Dorian Ambersworn hasn’t died once yet. He’s getting like hundreds of thousands of views on his videos.”

  “Awww, for real? I’m so jealous!”

  Rowan said, “Seriously. We should work out a formation—”

  “I agree regarding a formation,” Luthias interrupted with a straight face. He didn’t seem to have noticed anything awry.

  “Thank you. As I was saying, a formation. Let’s have Luthias at the front as a tank. Tasha a bit behind and off to the right as a damage dealer. Mossy should keep to the middle, since she’s the most valuable and powerful piece here. Gab can stay on her with health pots. Skylar can stay at the back as a long-range damager dealer, but he’ll need some protection in case of flanks.” Rowan paused for breath. “That’ll be you, Ayla. No objections? Chop chop!”

  Everyone obeyed without question, including Tasha.

  Everyone except one stunning redhead. The accusations radiating off her was deathly. She was slowly nodding, her arms crossed under her bosom. “Really?”

  “Really what? You’re a Rogue. Where else can I put you?”

  “How about near the front where it makes sense?”

  “Then who will protect Skylar? He’s our highest ranged DPS.” He leaned to her ear, and added in a subtle whisper, “And he’s a good boy. Be a good sport.”

  She laughed. A cackling laugh. “You are serious! A Rogue at the back!”

  Skylar said with a trace of nervousness, “I think it’s a good formation.”

  Ayla sliced him a warning look.

  He visibly swallowed. His posture weakened.

  “No, it’s not,” Tasha said, glancing back, “I have to say that sounds like a stupid formation.” She clearly wasn’t seeing what was happening here.

  Ayla added, “More than stupid.” Her tone was layered with a dangerous double-meaning. “How about you keep him safe, Lord LeMort? You didn’t give yourself a position.”

  “No can do.” Rowan sniffed back moisture. He caught her fruity-citrus scent. “I’m the highest short-range DPS with my hellfire. I’ll have to stay close to the front by Tasha. I can help keep her safe if something gets past Mossy and Gab.”

  Luthias said, “I see nothing wrong with this arrangement.”

  Ayla scoffed. “Because you’ll be safe at the front.”

  “The front,” Luthias said, frowning, “is the least safe place to be.”

  “You’re right, Luthias,” Rowan said. “No more arguing, Ayla. Into position.” He tugged her thread, making the order final.

  Her legs walked, but her gaze did not leave Rowan. “I hope you have thought long and hard about the consequences of putting me into this position.”

  “I have. I see no better option for you.”

  Her jaw momentarily dropped. “Then I will keep Skylar safe from flanks. I hope we don’t get raped in battle because of this.”

  “Don’t worry, you are in good hands.” He couldn’t keep a smirk off his face. Good thing this helmet was only transparent one-way.

  Her freckled cheeks became rosy. “I hope your performance is up to standard.”

  Gabrielle jolted. “His performance is fine! His wife gave him a good pep-talk last night! Better than you can ever give him!”

  Tasha’s head was shaking. “Why are you all talking so weirdly?”

  Skylar flashed a shit-eating grin. “What? I don’t hear anything weird!”

  Ayla whacked his shoulder, hard. She discretely whispered something into his ear.

  A genuine laugh shook Rowan’s chest. This was too much fun. “Alright, no more talk! let’s move!”

  And they moved in this new formation in total silence other than a few random shakes of the chatbox.

  Ayla Wintersbane (To Rowan and Gabby LeMort): You two can’t be serious. You can’t make me be his mate.

  Ayla Wintersbane: And what do you even mean by mate?

  Ayla Wintersbane: Hello???

  Nothing important.

  But the tension radiating from the back of the party was enough to melt the frozen mountain-tops and flood this valley. Rowan felt it, if no one else. He paid little attention to the new loving couple, instead setting his eyes upon that beautiful, beautiful manawood tree. By his estimates, it was six and a half miles from the base, which was well within range to maintain a slave thread. Ten miles maximum.

  Meaning Viola was far off. She was logged-in, somewhere in that direction toward the destroyed Troll camp.

  “Watcha thinking about?” Gabrielle whispered, suddenly skipping at his side.

  “Viola. I wonder how she’s doing.”

  A dash of jealousy soured her expression. “I’m only twenty-two, Row. Only three
more than nineteen. Only three.”

  He tried to not chuckle, choked on spit. He awkwardly coughed thrice. “How about a three-way for a night? And by that, I’m just kidding.”

  “Ya better be.” Her tongue clicked.

  “I am, and your Demon body looks nineteen anyway.”

  “Hmph. I have noticed.” She patted his arm. “And I’m gonna pretend ya didn’t say any of that, because I just watched the video of us Myrmidons in the future.”

  At last. “Do you like it?”

  “Yuppers.” She slapped his back. “I’m gonna upload it to my channel soon with lotsa dramatic music.”

  “Are you sure that’s the best idea?”

  “Why not?”

  Tasha glided next to her. “What are you two whispering about?”

  “Our channel. What else?” Gabrielle flashed a cutesy smile. “Nothing inappropriate. G-rated.”

  Rowan said, “We’re thinking to put out a propaganda video of power of that vision I had in the dungeon. Have you seen it?

  “I have.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “You’re asking me?” Her forehead wrinkled.

  “Of course, you’re a valued member of this community.”

  “The second most valued Human,” Gabrielle added. “By that I’m just kidding. You and Ayla are equally valued.”

  “Equally?” Tasha said with restrained displeasure.

  “We are big on equality.” Gabrielle offered a thumbs-up. “Everyone is equally valued in our kingdom under our rule.”

  Rowan put on his trollish face, which, he reminded himself, no one could see. “Some people, however, are more equal than others. You can be more equal, Tasha.”

  “Geee. I am…” Tasha sighed. “You two are something else. Are you sure being Demons isn’t doing something to your minds?”

  “Honestly?” Rowan said in a hush-hush voice. “I think it might. I’ve been way more brutal at times.”

  “And more grouchy. Though I seem unaffected.” Gabrielle’s head was bobbing up and down in a cartoonish way.