"’Av ye e’er bin on this ‘ere stretch o’ t’ motorw’y afore?"
Lorelei shook her head in reply to Pete. Compared to the patched, cracked, and shabby roadway they'd been travelling along for the last few hours, they had just crossed over to a section that was a breath of fresh air. It was a smooth, wide ribbon of tarmac where—even a few days after the end of the world—the air still smelt faintly of smugness and diesel. Their landscape had changed entirely from the packed rows of abandoned cars to an eerily quiet, empty space, which was all very disconcerting.
"No, mate. I've always thought that no matter how short life is, it's never short enough to use a fucking toll road."
And wasn't that the truth? Lorelei had never understood how so many of her fellow Brummies had fallen for the supreme confidence trick of the 'option' to pay for the privilege of not sitting in traffic with the rest of the hoi polloi. After all, was there not anything less English than paying extra to get somewhere marginally faster. It was literal and metaphorical queue jumping, and the very thought of using it had made her teeth itch.
Lorelei could even picture the conversation in the planning meeting: "You know what this part of the West Midlands needs? A toll road. A motorway for those who are simply too important for the good old regular M6. We’ll be all creative here, calling it something snazzy and memorable like the M6 Toll. Think about it! It'll be like a VIP lounge! But for cars. And asphalt. And existential dread and fundamental self-loathing. But mostly cars!"
And, somehow, it had been approved.
For the cost of a sizeable coffee order, millennial Brummies could suddenly avoid the rite of passage of sitting in a queue of lorries and hatchbacks, all while contemplating the fact that they were paying twice for a road they'd already funded through taxes. Yay for capitalism! As someone who had come up with more than their fair share of loophole finding corporate wheezes, Lorelei had to, grudgingly, admit it was a stroke of genius. Why sit in traffic for free when you could pay for the privilege of doing it slightly further away from everyone else?
The group had first realised they'd entered this far more upmarket part of their journey when they walked through the toll booths, quaint little reminders of a time when human interaction was unavoidable. Lorelei had always wondered at the oddity of their existence. You'd paid for speed and convenience, only to be delayed by a minimum-wage slave who took your money with all the warmth of a troll giving you access to their bridge. Entertainingly and somewhat on the nose, it was right here that the System had decided to place two giant Level 8 [Toll-Both Ogres] right in their way.
"What do you think?" Kris asked, looking at the pair of dark green behemoths. "Can we take them?"
Lorelei hadn't answered straight away. It wasn't that she didn't think they would be able to handle the monsters - for all the interpersonal issues the group was having, they were turning into a pretty decent unit - it was that there was a prickling sense of doom on the edge of her notice that was thoroughly distracting her.
Since passing into Level 7, Lorelei had noted that the range of her Map and the details it revealed were much improved. Thus, as well as the new Vendor dots, she couldn't help but notice a couple of red dots with a gold outline flittering around on the very outside of the circle.
"Guide, would I be right in thinking that whoever those guys are, they are following us?"
***Help Message***
Hang on. Give me a moment. Let me just take a second away from keeping the entire civilisation on this fucking rock ticking over to zoom in on your position and identify the motivations of two individuals in your near vicinity. No worries at all. I'll get right on that.
Lorelei waited longer than she really should have before realising that no further information would be spooling along her ticker tape notifications.
"You're not going to help me, are you?"
***Thank you for your message. The Guide is temporarily not home to your bullshit inanity right now. Normal service will be resumed when you stop being such a needy little bitch***
Lorelei once again reflected that the period of enforced absence of her Guide had not really been so bad after all. But the next time she looked at her Map, the dots were gone and - considering what was in front of them - it felt much more like a post-Troll encounter problem.
The quiet of the group's surroundings was only broken by the distant hum of motorway lights and the occasional rustle of wind through the sparse trees. Oh, and the repeated, bone-chilling roars from the two massive Trolls stomping and snorting in the middle of the toll booths, their grotesque forms casting massive shadows under the flickering lights.
"Okay. We know the drill." Lorelei said, her voice steady. If the group were going to treat her as their leader - even grudgingly - then she would play up to the part. "Hild, Steffan, Chrissy, Zorrobar—you’re with me. Pete, Kris, Michelle, Michael—you take the other one. No heroics. Keep it clean and simple. Chrissy, you'll be healing for us, so - you know - suit up."
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The first group formed up quickly, each member slipping into their roles with far more precision than might have been expected. Even the sight of Chrissy disrobing from her Robin Hood costume and slipping into something medically slutty didn't slow them down. Well, not much.
Hild, as if determined to refocus the attention on herself rather than the stripper, yelled and charged forward, her axe held high in two hands. The first Troll staggered forward to meet her, towering and brutish and swung its massive club with a bellowing roar. Hild raised her axe just in time, the force of the blow reverberating through her entire body. The impact sent shockwaves down her arms, but she stood firm, gritting her teeth against the pain.
“Any time you fucking want, Steffan!” Hild shouted, summoning her self-heal ability to mitigate some of the damage.
Steffan eyes glowed, and with a flashy flick of his wrist, he unleashed CCMD to skitter its way across the asphalt, spitting poison into the Troll's face. The creature roared in fury, its movements hampered by its momentary vision loss. Steffan’s face contorted with concentration as he channelled his mana, using the injury to draw the life force from the Troll, flooding it into his only remaining summons, even as he incrementally weakened the creature.
The Troll, enraged by the spider's assault, thrashed violently, smashing blindly into CCMD's carapace. The spider shrieked and tried to retreat, Hild covering it with a
Zorrobar's hands wreathed in flame. “
However, despite the combined assaults, Lorelei knew that the Troll was not to be underestimated. It lashed out wildly, its club smashing into the ground and sending shards of asphalt flying. One of these fragments struck Steffan, knocking him to the ground. Chrissy narrowly avoided a sweeping blow that would have crushed her had she been a second slower, throwing out spells that may or may not have been intended to heal those around her.
***Help Message***
Not for nothing, but there's more to healing than just having the Class and crossing your fingers. This group is lucky enough to have someone who can change their role in the team faster than she used to make dudes throw cash at her. Maybe, I don't know, bother giving her some training sometime? Just my two-pennyworth.
Lorelei grimaced and dismissed the message. She held her coin tight, preparing to get involved if things took a turn for the worse. The Troll’s resilience was genuinely monstrous, its rage giving it strength and ferocity beyond that of anything they'd fought so far.
Then Hild gave an answering roar, pressing her own attack, her axe flashing with an activated Skill as she struck at the Troll’s exposed flesh. The blade bit deep, but the creature’s regenerative abilities were tenacious, knitting flesh back together even as it was torn apart. The Troll swung its club again, catching Hild off guard and sending her sprawling. The impact had crashed into her chest piece - which was probably the only reason she was still alive - and she struggled to rise, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Fuck's sake! Where's the fucking DPS!” Hild gasped, forcing herself forward, retaunting to regain the monster's attention.
Zorrobar, smarting more than a little that he was letting the side down, redoubled his efforts. “
A massive column of fire erupted from Zorrobar's hands, engulfing the Troll completely. The heat was intense, the flames so bright they illuminated the entire motorway. The Troll screeched, its flesh charring and blackening under the relentless inferno. Zorrobar’s face was a mask as he poured all his mana into the spell, knowing that failure was not an option.
Steffan, regaining his footing, resummoned CCMD. It leapt forward, clawing at the Troll’s chest, its legs weakening the creature’s vitality further. Steffan's mana pulsed through the air, the necromantic energy around the ex-Shadowweaver Arachnis sapping the Troll’s strength and feeding it into Steffan’s own reserves.
Unfortunately, such was the strength of the fiery attack, the Troll momentarily lost focus on Hild and charged straight for Zorrobar. The fire mage, exhausted from his continuous casting, was far too slow to react. The club connected with a sickening thud, sending Zorrobar flying across the motorway. He landed hard, his robes singed, and his breath knocked out of him. Chrissy ran over to him, pressing her hands on a chest wound, which was pretty much the dictionary definition of cataclysmic.
“Zorrobar!” Hild screamed, embedding her axe in the Troll's back and re-upping her taunt.
The Troll, its strength waning, staggered forward under her strike and then turned to face the Valkyrie, its eyes filled with a mix of fury and desperation. It raised its club again, but this time, it was met with a coordinated assault. Hild and CCMD struck in unison, their attacks finding the creature’s heart and spine. Despite her worries this might make things worse, Lorelei threw her coin, giving a little jig as she did so,
The combined might of their attacks finally brought the Troll down. With a final, guttural roar, it collapsed onto the tarmac, its body smouldering and lifeless. Hild lowered her axe, her breath heavy, as the group gathered around the fallen creature.
“We did it,” Steffan said, his voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and triumph as the XP flooded into them. He reached out a hand to help Zorrobar to his feet, the fire mage wincing as he stood.
“Barely,” Chrissy replied, wiping her hands clean of Zorrobar's blood on the Troll’s ragged hide.
***Help Message***
Just before you all get jizz over each other in celebration, can I suggest maybe a little peak to your right . . .
Grimacing, Lorelei did so and started running a moment later