<u>Dungeons & Demons X</u>
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A flash of something passed through his eyes and I guessed I''d hit a nerve, oops.
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“Alrighty then, ta-ta,” I waved flippantly at the Demon Prince and wandered over to the runestone, keeping a close eye on him as I did so. But, true to his word, the Demon Prince did nothing.
<dl>
<dd>
<table border="1" width="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="4">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td width="100%">
Congratulations! You have gained a new Title!
You have gained the title: Warden of the Watchtower!
Would you like to display your new title publicly?
Y/N?
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</dd>
</dl>
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Something crawled over my Garb and time seemed to slow around me, my next step felt as though I was walking through jelly and the one after that like I was walking through liquid cement.
Oh shit.
“is interesting. You''re not the Empress at all are you?” Right. The Demon Prince was still here, I''d just been ignoring his gaze until he spoke, forcing me to recognise his continued presence.
“did marry the Emperor, I believe that does make me the Empress. But no, I''m not Duchess Aelwinel whatsherface.” My response surprised me, the words forming and leaving my unmarked lips before I could consider them fully. I was still reeling from my ordeal but I had a Demon to deal with, I forced my shaking limbs to bring me to my feet and faced him, unbowed.
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A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
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<dl>
<dd>
<table border="1" width="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="4">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td width="100%">
The Warden''s Trial.
Complete the Warden''s Trial.
Reward:
8000 EXP
Bonus Reward:
Total Kill count: 0
Total EXP awarded: 8000
Due to special actions, you have gained:
Resistance +1, Willpower +2. Luck -3.
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</dd>
</dl>
I dismissed the quest completion prompt that appeared when I exited the dungeon, as I had more pressing concerns, namely that Verrick, Belloff, Sarian and all the other High Dukes stood in front of me and the Demon Prince I''d brought back, and I was very much not the woman they were expecting to return, not even close.
"Err, hi guys," I waved nervously, "so it''s kind of a funny story actually..."
I was so fucked.
It went about as well as I expected. Which is to say, not at all.
Thankfully, there was a seven-foot-tall horned Demon Prince available for me to shift the attention to. I took advantage of that fact, especially as whatever mind control effects he''d had me under had ceased the moment we stepped out from the inky portal. Apparently, I had to earn the right to be his minion on my own merits or something. Ugh. No thanks.
Obviously, the reason he''d been able to mind control me without all that torture and without me noticing was that the Garb with its magic resistant effects had timed out and removed itself from me.
I was very thankful that I no longer considered him handsome.
I shuddered at the memory of those last few minutes in the dungeon.
The demon had been very demanding, first off ordering someone to find him a woman with ''grapes growing out of her head and wine dripping from her nipples'' and to take him to the Throne Room as being Emperor sounded like it could entertain him for a little while. And wasn''t it such fun being free?
Disregarding his first ''request'' – was such a thing even possible? Because that did sound like it could be fun – I''d apparently, somehow, gotten a Demon Prince crowned Emperor, a much worse option even than the traitorous Master of Ceremonies.
Thanks very much [Sod''s Law]!
Anyway, Leris and Belloff had led the jubilant Demon out of there, probably with the hopes of distracting him with his first demand so much so that he forgot about the second.
Their interaction with the Demon made it obvious that the Imperials didn''t want to clash with the Abyssal Prince. This led me to believe he was far stronger than he appeared if he could cow Verrick and even the boisterous dwarven High Duchess.
I was ''escorted'' to a nearby office just outside the recently claimed Watchtower by an even-dozen Watchtower guards and an oddly calm Fenrick. He rebuffed any attempts at conversation. The guards remained stoic, too, as they practically shoved me inside what seemed to be a strategy planning room. Wasn''t I technically still the Empress? I had married the Emperor before he died... From the moment I''d stepped from the dungeon, however, they hadn''t been treating me as such.
There wasn''t much in the room, bare stone walls surrounded a large conference table, made of some kind of grey slick stone. Sturdy oak chairs lined the walls around the table.
On closer inspection, I could see a map inlaid on the surface of the table. The table was perhaps twelve feet in length and four feet in width. At the ''top'' of the table, the word ''Eddersland'' was gilded in brushed bronze. I was finally getting a look at the land I was now living in.
The top and bottom tips of the land brushed the edges of the table at either end, the sides were about a foot from either edge. It was surrounded by light blue, obviously water, ''Ald Lake'' was inlaid on either side, confirming my suspicions.
On the land, glowing borders representing the colours of the six High Dukes divided up the country.
A seventh colour, about a third of the way to the top, glowed purple and marked the much smaller borders of the Imperial Capital, Edderton, and the Watchtower, which bordered the northern tip of an inland lake, Eddersloch – they really want all out on the naming theme... - The high dukes each controlled roughly equal sections of the land, in the north-west was Flink, in Geral''s colours, in the north-east was Craddock in Verrick''s colours, in the middle section Inglsemar the west was held by Leris while Deburrow and Freylder held the east.
The two elven Dukes were neighbours in the south, Sarian ruled Ellikir in the west and Fenrick ruled Vernekstow in the east. The Imperial Capital was nestled in the four corners where the central Dukedoms met the Northen ones.
I could tell this map was magically enchanted to be interactive as when I pressed my hand to one of the Dukedoms the borders would glow brighter briefly but then dull without any change. I didn''t have the permissions to change this map at all, which was a shame because there wasn''t any cities currently marked on the map, nor any significant landmarks.
A mountain range split the north-east of the land off from the rest, the mountains lining the map from Flink in the north-west to Denburrow in the east. A forest filled most of the south-west of the map, bordering the plains that Fenrick ruled over.
The rest of the map was fairly evenly split between hills, plains and woodlands.
I studied the map for perhaps half an hour before getting bored and sitting in one of the chairs, twiddling my thumbs.
After another half an hour I finally got up and knocked on the door, a gruff and blushing guard opened it for me and I convinced him to bring me some supplies so I could make myself some socks. so I had something to do. He returned with those items, and a fairly basic robe that reminded me that I had been naked up until that point, I''d gotten too used to not worrying about such things because of the Garb.
This action led me to acquire my first skill since I''d donned the Garb.
<dl>
<dd>
<table border="1" width="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="4">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td width="100%">
Congratulations! You have gained the skill: Crocheting.
Dexterity +1.
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</dd>
</dl>
And that was how I learnt my grandma had taught me how to crochet and not to knit.
I''d increased it to level 3 and received 50 EXP – I was holding off on leveling for now - before someone finally came to see me.
Verrick led Sarian and Geral into the room. Two guards followed them and stationed themselves just inside the door after they shut it behind them. I put my lumpy creations into my [inventory], which caused me to pause in shock as the items I''d left in there earlier had disappeared.
"That''s right, someone removed everything that wasn''t yours from your [Inventory]," Verrick smiled grimly, "which was, of course, everything. I''m sure you can keep your scarf, though."
"Uhh... it was a sock actually..." He was being surprisingly genial, no yelling or screaming. Not yet at least, considering Sarian''s lobster-like visage, I figured we''d get to that soon enough.
"Let''s ignore your dubious creations," he smiled and winked slightly, trying to put me at ease. He collected himself as Geral whispered something to Sarian, obviously trying, and failing to calm the fuming high elf.
"Let''s start with your name, shall we?"
"M-Martha." I stammered, Sarian''s glare causing me to stammer.
"Okay, Martha. How exactly did you get here?"
"I''m not entirely sure, I think someone in the Abyssal Plane kicked me out of a teleportation while I was travelling from my world and I ended up here."
"So you are a new arrival from the Physical Plane then." Geral said, looking like he''d won a bet of some kind.
"And what did you do to my daughter!" Sarian yelled, standing up and sending the oak chair crashing into the wall behind. I was glad I was seated on the opposite side of the table from him.
Once he''d calmed down a bit and promised not to interrupt Verrick''s interrogation any further, he sat back down.
His glare never subsided.
More yelling and screaming, along with a little spittle when I explained what happened to Duchess Aelwinel, Geral interrupted a spell he had begun to cast and dragged him from the room for about twenty minutes, before returning.
Verrick and I sat in silence the whole time I waited.
He was practically foaming at the mouth when he returned, but he didn''t try and attack me again, so in fits and starts, and with Verrick''s encouragement, I began explaining my story of the last few days.
They were very interested when I explained about Elbellkioff''s betrayal, and Sarian had to be escorted from the room again when he found out that it was his daughter who had approached the traitorous Master of Ceremonies, he didn''t believe me at first but, all I had to go on was what Belloff had told me.
When he returned, he still refused to believe his daughter hadn''t been an innocent that was pressured into the MoC''s plans, but at least he''d stopped with the yelling.
When I got to what I''d done with the Duchess''s corpse, Sarian did attack me, lunging over the table and grappling with my robe before anyone else could react. I was thankful that he was far too angry to use any of his spells by this point, otherwise, I probably would''ve been electrocuted on the spot.
The Geral and the two guards dragged him kicking and screaming from the room before he remembered he was a spellcaster, leaving me and Verrick in peace. I continued my story, telling of what happened in the Warden''s Trial. As I spoke of the horrors I saw, of what I still felt and that time, Verrick''s demeanour softened. He handed me a handkerchief to wipe my eyes and waited until I was ready before allowing me to continue in my own time.
"And then I was left to wait in this room for a few hours, I was only given clothes when I asked the guards for some crocheting supplies."
"Yeah, sorry about that... We were a bit distracted when the demon threw a fit because we couldn''t procure a girl with wine coming from her nipples-"
Wait, so you could find one with grapes on her head instead of hair?!
"-and killed a few of the nobles that had survived the Ashen legions'' attack.
"Then, he remembered his other demand and made his way directly to the Throne Room. And I mean directly there''s a bunch of walls with a demon-sized hole in it leading straight to the Throne."
"Wait... He didn''t... Did he?" I almost didn''t want Verrick to answer me, unfortunately, he grimaced and rubbed his brow with his hand.
"I''m afraid so, as soon as he sat upon the Throne, the System recognised him as Eddersland''s new Emperor by Might."
"By Might?"
"Ah yes, as a newcomer you wouldn''t know how this works... Basically, there are three ways to rule over a populace, and thus to succeed the Throne. This first, and most common is Rule by Right, this is when there is an obvious heir that steps up when the previous ruler died, and that''s how it used to work here. The next most common is Rule by Might, where someone is so strong, either in personal Might or via their alliances, that nobody can oppose them. The third, and least common, is Rule by Vote-"
"Ah, I think I can guess how that one works, thanks."
He nodded, "right, I heard your world had started going that way a few centuries ago. The nature of this world and the dangers it possesses makes Rule by Vote far less common, and it is even rarer for it to last even through its first generation.
"But this information is hardly important right now. Not for you at least." He got up and opened the door, pausing to look back at me, "I''ll endeavour to get your current position resolved as soon as possible, I understand a lot of people, especially Sarian will be vying for your death whatever the consequences. But, I think you were put into a hard position with few options. You could have done better. You should have done better, but I don''t blame you." He winked at me, "plus you somehow gained control over the Watchtower, that''s given you a good position to negotiate from.
"I suspect the best outcome you can hope for is leaving the Palace with your life intact."
And then he was gone, the door swinging shut softly behind him, and I let out the breath I''d been holding.
I wasn''t dead yet, half of my had expected me to be killed shortly after I was discovered, but here I was, still alive and kicking.
Opening the door left me face-to-face with a hall full of grim-faced guards. Yes, still alive and kicking, but definitely a prisoner, even so.
I sat back down in my chair and pulled out my at attempts at sock-making. I sighed, and pulled the ruined footwear apart and started over – Verrick was right, it did look more like a scarf.
More hours passed, enough that I''d finished my third pair of socks, the mustard yellow creations were the first ones that looked wearable. When I finished them, I reached level 5.
During this time I finally dealt with the flashing [Insert Name Here] on my Status screen, I was already outed and the flashing was getting kind of annoying every time I reflexively checked the screen – probably once every ten minutes or so, having stats in real life was kinda cool.
Someone knocked politely on the door and waited until I came over and opened it myself. I was surprised that they hadn''t just barged in, I was basically a prisoner here, after all.
I blinked in shock when I saw who''d come to retrieve me, I hadn''t seen her since before I entered the dungeon.
"Hi." I managed and blinked again when I noticed the empty hallway behind her. Where did all the guards go?
"Follow," she grunted, her face forming a grimace. It was clear I was no longer considered a friend.
"So, um... How''s Alfred?" The woman was the guard who I''d spent well over a day hiding from invaders with, protecting each other''s backs. Trusting each other with our lives. There was no sign of that camaraderie now, in fact, Deliza ignored my question entirely, her ears twitching in annoyance.
Wait, her ears?
"Wait... Where are we going? And are you a beastkin?" I blushed, as she turned to glare at me, "s-sorry, I didn''t mean to be rude but you''re the first beastkin I''ve seen... those ears... are you a bearkin?" I guessed, causing her to growl in annoyance. Not a bear then, how was I to tell the difference?"
"A boar..." She finally muttered, "I am a boarkin. As for where I''m taking you... It''s where I''ve been ordered to take you, where you deserve, traitorous scum."
Gulp.
I wasn''t getting any sympathy here. Nevermind, I hadn''t really expected to get any, but it had been worth a try.
I followed her down empty hallway after empty hallway, each turn causing more goosebumps to form on my arms and the hair on the back of my neck to rise.
Where is everybody?
I tried to ask her that question, but I was just ignored. I didn''t try to run either, I''d seen her fight, I wouldn''t get more than a couple of steps away at most.
The hallways we''d been following were the dull grey stones of the servants'' halls, we walked for perhaps fifteen minutes before we descended a large stairway, the smell rising up below causing me to wrinkle my nose in disgust. Think rotting meats and dead rats and you''d be pretty close to what I was smelling.
The smell didn''t seem to affect the boarkin in the slightest and she led me right at the bottom of the steps and stopped before a large opening from which the nasal-destroying smell was coming from.
"What is this place?"
Instead of answering me she just muttered something under her breath and shoved me into the rubbish pile beyond, a massive metal door crashed down from the ceiling behind me.
The walls of the room I''d found myself in were made of the same metal, surprisingly clean considering the pile of trash in the middle of the room. I could see more of the squiggles that made up runes covering the walls in here and I felt a sinking feeling as my brain finally recognised the words she''d spoken.
The words, not spoken in the Imperial Edderslandi language I was becoming accustomed to, but instead in a local beastkin dialect, were, "good riddance to bad rubbish." And looking around at my current location I could see I was taking part in a bad cliche.
Someone had decided to ''take me out with the trash''. And considering the walls around me, I guessed I was in a trash compactor.
"God damn it!" I ranted to whoever must be watching my demise, railing them on the terrible cliche they were perpetrating, and how as ''Warden of the Watchtower'', they couldn''t kill me, otherwise, a quest for the position would form.
But, whoever was watching, if anyone was, ignored my ranting, then the pleas that followed.
Finally, after a bout of self-deprecating begging, my voice grew hoarse.
Whoever had sentenced me to death obviously didn''t care about the consequences.
A little while later, as the tears started to evaporate from my face I finally looked up to see my environment had changed.
The runes on the walls were glowing a harsh yellow-orange colour, a colour that was reminiscent of the lava I''d almost fallen in countless times in the dungeon, and the room was heating up, the air growing almost too hot to breathe as the liquid around me began to boil.
Finally, after a tortures few seconds, with my lungs burning from the inside and the blood in my body beginning to boil, the rubbish around me caught on fire, and the incinerator I was in killed me.
<dl>
<dd>
<table border="1" width="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="4">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td width="100%">
You have died!
Spend the last few moments until your Soul passes-on to reflect on your actions during your life!
Better Luck next time!
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</dd>
</dl>
*
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td width="52">Status</td>
<td width="154">HP: 0/490 (+9.4/s)</td>
<td colspan="2" width="132">MP: 319 (+1.1/s)</td>
<td colspan="2" width="133">ST: 421 (1.3/s)</td>
<td colspan="2" width="132">EXP: 10951</td>
<td width="130">Total Level: (8)</td>
<td width="151">Class</td>
<td width="49">Level</td>
<td width="69">EXP Req</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>Name</td>
<td>Martha Anwcus</td>
<td>Mental</td>
<td>Stat</td>
<td>Physical</td>
<td>Stat</td>
<td>Social</td>
<td>Stat</td>
<td>Traits</td>
<td>Elf (Planar)</td>
<td>8</td>
<td>4500</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>Age</td>
<td>26</td>
<td>Control</td>
<td>58</td>
<td>Agility</td>
<td>70</td>
<td>Bargaining</td>
<td>60</td>
<td>Regeneration</td>
<td> </td>
<td> </td>
<td> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>Race</td>
<td>Elf (Planar)</td>
<td>Resistance</td>
<td>56</td>
<td>Dexterity</td>
<td>59</td>
<td>Charm</td>
<td>50</td>
<td>Status Quo</td>
<td> </td>
<td> </td>
<td> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>Party</td>
<td>N/A</td>
<td>Spellpower</td>
<td>51</td>
<td>Strength</td>
<td>70</td>
<td>Leadership</td>
<td>53</td>
<td>Sod''s Law</td>
<td> </td>
<td> </td>
<td> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>Guild</td>
<td>N/A</td>
<td>Willpower</td>
<td>64</td>
<td>Vitality</td>
<td>71</td>
<td>Luck</td>
<td>-496</td>
<td> </td>
<td> </td>
<td> </td>
<td> </td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>