Steffan really did not want to try adding the elite [Toll-Booth Troll] to his reduced zombie roster. It would be, as he put it, "like trying to fit an angry dragon into a stable for pygmy goats."

"But you already added the Shadowweaver Arachnis - it can't be that much different, surely?" Kris asked reasonably.

***Help Message***

It fucking well is - it's good to see at least one of these walking death-wishes has the start of a sense of self-preservation.

"Look," Steffan said, backing away from the rest of them and hugging himself for comfort. "First off, the sheer power disparity is just... it's just, well, it’s laughable. Trying to raise an elite-level mob . . . It’s not just a matter of waving my hands and uttering some ancient incantations . . . "

***Help Message***

Actually, it's exactly like that, but the point he's making is reasonably sound. He's got space in his roster to slot the troll in - no worries on that front - but it's going to be pretty rough on his mental well-being. The fucking thing won't like being under his power, and he's going to need to show more balls than he's managed hitherto to keep the thing malleable.

"I mean, just the binding process alone . . ." If Steffan moved much further away from the group, he'd be on the other side of the motorway. "Do you have any idea how much arcane energy it takes to bind a creature of that calibre? I’d need a ritual circle with a radius of 50 feet, and a steady supply of rare components—dragon scales, phoenix feathers, and who knows what else. Not to mention, the whole thing needs to be performed under a full moon with the planets in perfect alignment. It’s a logistical nightmare!"

***Help Message***

Yeah, he's spouting bollocks now. You know what, just for that, I've changed my mind. I was all for backing him over this one - no one likes to see a noob's brains leak out from behind his ears because he tries something beyond his ken. Trust me, that's been my screensaver for the last few days, and I'm all for people recognising their limits right now - but I have an image to maintain, and I'm not having all this High Fantasy bullshit. He has the Skill he needs to use and more than enough mana at his disposal to make it stick. No. The critical question is whether he has the stones for it, though.

Lorelei was struggling to follow Steffan's increasingly manic protestations and read the words of her Guide as they spooled in her vision.

"And let’s not forget about the backlash! Even if, by some miracle, I manage to overpower the troll's desire to run amok the moment I bring it back and actually bind it to my will, there'll be a constant struggle to maintain control. One slip-up, one moment of weakness, and this thing could turn on me faster than you can say “necromantic overreach.” The mental strain will be immense, like holding back a tidal wave with a flimsy wooden dam. We still have to defeat the Chimera when we reach Lichfield Cathedral, and I'm sure you'll be wanting me to help out with CCMD. There will be no chance of that if I'm fighting to keep you all alive from the fucking troll wanting to eat you!"

***Help Message***

He's not too far wrong here. What you have to remember is that the spider was already a summons, so it knew the whole master/minion deal. When it came back, it just traded one master for another and rolled with it like a champ. That elite troll, though? Yeah, it's going to be pissed at not only dying to you wet wipes, but then being brought back under the control of Wimpy McWimperson over there. There's going to be quite some kickback down their connection, and he's going to need to be up for the struggle.

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"Is there anything we can do to help him with it?" Lorelei asked the Guide. She had whispered under her breath so the others wouldn't hear, but as they were all in hot pursuit of Steffan, who was in danger of breaking into a run, she need not have bothered.

***Help Message***

Not really. I mean, it's all a matter of mental strength, isn't it? He's got the stats to do it—especially since that last level-up—but he's got to actually want to pull it off. I tell you what, listening to him blubber, I'm almost tempted to offer him a Class change. He doesn't appear to have the . . . What do you call it? The thing you need to be a successful Necromancer?

"Willpower?" Lorelei hazarded.

***Help Message***

Maniacal self-regard and balls-to-the-way sadistic power lust.

Lorelei watched as Pete picked Steffan up and carried him, under one arm like a protesting carpet, back to the troll's body. No, she thought, Steffan did not appear to fulfil the stereotype of a typical Necromancer.

"Look," Zorrobar began, a friendly smile on his bearded face as he knelt in front of Steffan once Pete deposited him on the tarmac. "We all understand that you would rather not do it. I would share your worries if I were you. But if what she says is true," he nodded towards Lorelei, who waved sheepishly back, "we don't have the numbers to pass this Quest anymore. We are going to need you to add a summons to our party."

Michael took up the theme. "Mate, I get you're not wild about this, but we don't have a choice, do we? If we get to the Cathedral without another group member, we're all dead. You've read the Quest notes the same way we did. And time is ticking."

Steffan looked around helplessly for support.

"But what about the issue of synergy with CCMD? Introducing an elite mob with intelligence and power far surpassing my own into the mix is going to be a nightmare! The troll will either try to assert dominance over the spider, causing chaos, or it will wilfully, disdainfully ignore CCMD, making coordination a joke.

***Help Message***

Not a wholly invalid point. But the rodenty dude with the knives hit the nail squarely on the head. You can chat about it all as much as you like, but unless your little group gets one bigger, it's going to be Wipetown, population You, the second you see the Cathedral. Honestly, I didn't expect this part of the Quest to be the problem. Imagine being so shit you cannot even keep the zombie army in one piece . . .

"How about I do it instead?"

It would be fair to say, Lorelei thought, that when she didn't have her tits out, the rest of the group tended to forget about Chrissy. It might well have been a function of her Class, but most of the time, it was like she faded somewhat into the background when not the focus of attention.

But, right now, though, all eyes were on the Chameleon Courtesan.

"As far as I understand how all of these things work, if I'm wearing the right clothes, I should be able to have the abilities of a Necromancer, right? So, why doesn't Steffan just me all his gear, and I summon up the troll? Then, if it is my sole summons, there won't be a problem with it fighting against Cee-Cee, will there? And if it is the only thing I have to focus on when we get to the Cathedral, it shouldn't be too taxing for me to keep it under control."

All eyes swivelled from Chrissy to Lorelei. When did I become the font of all knowledge, she thought.

***Help Message***

At about the same time, you soloed the fucking elite troll with a ridiculously overpowered show of unearned techniques and good luck.

The rare valid point, Lorelei acknowledged. "What about it? Do you think she could do it?"

***Help Message***

I have no idea. Sounds like it would be a lot of fun to try out, though, doesn't it? I mean, what's the worst that could happen? I mean, sure, she has absolutely no experience of using Necromantic power, which might be a bit of a problem. And, of course, she seems dimmer than the lights on 'Netflix and Chill' night. Not forgetting, this is an Undead elite troll we're discussing, not resurrecting a beloved family pet. But, and I make this point with all love, what other choices do you have?

Lorelei looked hard at Steffan for a few moments, but it was clear that there was nothing they could say to convince him to try it. His spider scuttled over to stand protectively before him, and the Necromancer almost crushed it to death in his anxiousness to grab hold of it and huddle behind its carapace. On the other hand, Chrissy looked entirely sanguine over the prospect of shortly dominating a giant monster. Lorelei supposed that, when you did what she did for a living, the prospect of keeping a massive, sweating mound of malevolent troll under your spell was a bit of a busman's holiday.

"Why don't we give it a go?" she said hesitantly.

The speed with which Steffan disrobed and threw his gear over to the former stripper was somewhat the definition of an 'ironic interaction'.