Dear Diary,

Y'know, I never really understood the phrase, 'never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups' before.

Sad thing is, the ones I'm dealing with now, the ones causing the problem, such as it is, aren't even stupid or, from their own perspective, evil. But there are enough of them, and they're homogenous enough, that they kinda self-reinforce. Which I'm guessing would be even worse with actual stupid people. Normal non-stupid people who give in to groupthink just get artificially stupid. Stupid people giving into groupthink? That's the shit of nightmares, and I say this from the perspective of an actual existential nightmare given physical form.

So apparently I've hit the point where I can get basic copying done without paying all that much attention. Like, I don't even really need to read what I'm copying. I'd kinda like to get something written in Cyrillic or Katakana to test myself with, but without the internet or inter-library loans and shit, god only knows how I'd go about doing that.

I'll contact Sun Wukong and see if he has anything he needs copied. You do owe him a favor after all.

Uh... so him loaning me a book to copy when I want to copy a book is me doing a favor for him?

From the right perspective, yes.

Didn't you say something about Tricksters and professional courtesy?

That means we don't take it personally so long as the results of our schemes and scams don't impact us personally. Trying to keep us from indulging in our very nature when interacting would be foolish.

Huh. Yeah, I guess that tracks. Thanks, Boss. You're the best!

I know.

So last night after I got done with my day of trying in vain to raise Skills I'm not allowed to get, I might have been a little depressed when we all piled into bed. At first I thought the others didn't realize, but when tiny Isnomi snores whistled from atop the Marie curled up at the foot of the bed, Saffron's eyes slid open and she said, "Marie? Could you, please?"

The three of us appeared in almost the same positions on the Love Shack bed. Before I could open my mouth, Saffron laid her fingers across my lips and whispered, "no arguments, Goof."

I blinked. Ledger?

"Oh, I will tell you explicitly when that happens. No, love. This is simply Marie and I enjoying the hell out of helping you combat your depression. Now. Kiss me. Kiss me like a glacier, slow and inexorable as time itself. Take your time, and when I pass out from you inevitably failing to let me up for air, Marie will have her turn. Then I will again when you do that to her."

I balked a little. I don't want to hurt you.

"I'm not that delicate, love. You have my consent. My enthusiastic consent. Should my consent become any more enthusiastic, it will become a demand. Must I demand this of you, my love? Please. Kiss me."

So I did.

I think we wound up dropping back into bed around five AM. False dawn lit the sky outside our windows, at least. We stumbled into class late. Hell, we stumbled into class after lunch, but nobody seemed to care all that much. Along with Saffron and I wandering up to the stacks and Translocating out to our home office after stealing the table from the Love Shack, I settled down to make copies of the 'Custom' section of 'Law and Custom of Norfolk'.

Of course, when it comes to 'practical considerations' and 'alternate assessments', I think I can count what I Co-Located myself to do as more points toward a passing grade. No, I'm not talking about the things that went on in the Love Shack after we stole the table. I haven't even really looked into bribing Doc DeLeon or Sister Cheryl with carnal delights. Not to put too fine a point on it, I think they're both into guys. Not that I'd let that stop me, but they haven't really made 'interested' noises. Or expressions. You know what I mean.

No, at the same time I stole the table, I Co-Located down to Norfolk, slouching into the throne with one leg hooked over an arm of the thing, wearing my jeans and tee shirt. "What's the word, guys?"

Skasn had joined Olga, Weyson, and Svart around the cobbled together conference table in front of the throne. He nodded in greeting, then said, "The Trolls await your review." After a pause he added. "You might wish to dress, perhaps, a bit more formally?"

I snorted. "You just wanna see me half naked." One blink of an eye later and, without moving, I replaced my jeans and tee with The Dress. Sans boots or accessories at the moment, since after yesterday's failure and last night's soothing interlude I had no fucks left to give at the moment. "Not that I mind."

Weyson choked a little on his spit. Probably something to do with sitting to the side of the throne that had my crotch pointed at it. Svart, opposite him, laughed, and if Olga got a little red in the face, she didn't complain. Skasn just squinted a little, then smiled. "Norfolk has never had a Queen before. You're certainly easier on the eyes than any of the others who've sat on that throne in my lifetime."

"Aww... thanks, Skasn! Don't get any funny ideas, though. I'm a happily married woman, and even if my wife seems to want to show off my carnal skills to all and sundry, I've got a hard and fast rule against Jotnar telephone poles invading my cooch, among other things."

Skasn put one hand to his chest in an absolutely faked 'taking offense' gesture. "You'd not allow one of my people to woo you?"

I shrugged. "Eh. Wooing or not, if it's the size of my thigh, it's not getting inserted between them." I tilted my head in absolutely irreverent thought. "Maybe if there's a Jotnar out there with a micropenis? That would be, what, the size of my arm or some shit? Might be a struggle, what with me not doing much in the way of dick riding since Saffron and I hooked up, but if it's a diplomatic necessity I'm sure I could manage." Not that I had any intention of banging somebody who could pick me up with one hand and use me like a particularly skinny fleshlight, but as I've mentioned before, never back down. That much I'd known long before being isekaied.

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It worked, too. Skasn held his 'offended dignity' pose for like five seconds before breaking down into howls of laughter, slapping at his thigh as he laughed. He and Svart set each other off a bit with the laughing, and eventually Olga joined in, looking a little sheepish at her earlier offense. Maybe she thought I was gonna start a throne room orgy with her baby daddy in the room or something. Shit, I really wondered how many previous Norfolk Monarchs had done shit like that now. Just another thing to list down as a potential problem. I mean, if everybody on the Ruling Council or whatever is down for Friday Night Orgies or some shit as a team building exercise, I'm not exactly the bitch who's going to tell them no, but given the current makeup of the group it didn't seem like everybody would be down for it.

When the laughter died down, Skasn nodded toward Svart, who took over the briefing, his deep voice easy on the ears. Frankly, in terms of guys in the room, all I could say there was that Olga had good taste and leave it at that. "So far most of the ships have arrived, but Ericson and Karlson's battleships have yet to arrive, nor has Swanson's. We've gotten a message from Swanson, though, when three in four of your ships from those three Jarldoms arrived. He's stripping his former Jarldom down to a trio of Warriors to guard against Raids and wildlife, stopping by Karlson's to do the same, then swinging through Ericson's to scoop up whoever is available there as well. Barring resistance at Ericson's, he expects to be here by the end of day nine. Next Wotansday."

I frowned. "Where's Ericson's body?"

Svart turned to Weyson, who said, "we burned it, my liege."

Trying to ignore the tingles from 'my liege', I asked, "was his axe made at his Jarldom?"

"Yes?"

"Bring it here. When does Swanson expect to get to Ericson's?"

Svart answered, "he expects to arrive there in the afternoon on Moonday next."

I nodded. "I'll be here Monday morning to collect that axe."

The rest nodded, and Svart continued. "By Moonday everyone but Seneschal Swanson will be here; the troops he intends to bring will of course not be here yet either, but any Moots can be held starting then."

I thought about that for a second. "Can you four handle those? Oh, and have Jarl Johnson help out if need be. Let him do binding arbitration of anybody who can't settle their own shit."

Weyson chimed in with "Not you, my liege? They might not accept his word. He is... persuasive, but not militant."

I smiled at him. "If somebody won't listen, he has my permission to feed them to his new paramour." All four of them looked some kind of way at that, so I relented just a little. "If there are too many for him to handle by himself, I'll pitch in. But I promise you, if I've got to do that kind of work I'm going to be less pleasant to deal with than she is." When they all nodded, I asked, "What about the Trolls again?"

"They await your review on the Green."

I shrugged. "Okay, lead on." I swung my legs around to hop out of the chair, but in midair I got a glimpse of the floor. I Translocated to the door, The Dress' boots in place, and stepped outside. The area in front of the longhouse had a bigger collection of buildings than Johnson's village, but individually they looked a lot rattier. Like Johnson cared about the individual buildings, and had a bunch because he needed more, where Gregor had just... built more to have more. Even from the steps of the longhouse, however, I saw the edge of the King's Green. I couldn't not, nor could I fail to see the formation of green, scaly, halberd-wielding Lizard Bois standing there. Utterly still. In formation.

"How long have they been like that?"

Olga had caught up to me my dint of long legs. "Since just after breakfast. They bivouac in place every evening, then fall out into formation every morning. Waiting for you."

"When did the last one arrive?"

"Late Freyday night."

It took me a minute to remember that was two nights ago, not last night. "So they just stood there in formation all day yesterday?" When she nodded, I muttered, "shit." Then turned to her and said, "catch up when you can, but no rush."

I translocated to the front of the formation, and a sudden mélange of sensations rushed across me. First the tiniest bit of paranoid prey feeling, as at least a thousand eyes shifted to look at me. Not bodies, not faces, just eyes shifted ever so slightly. Then the same feeling of 'willing subordination' poured into me, building on itself, oddly enough pooling in the portions of me covered by The Dress. Finally, in and around all the others, a sense of... fear. Not cowardice. Not a desire to flee. Just... fear. Almost raw. Every Troll on the Green looked on me and, both individually and as a whole, looked on me with the natural and right fear of an apex predator who has stumbled across something above them in the food chain.

For a minute, I had all I could do to let it flow over me, through me, into me, without reacting. Without eating one or more of them just to confirm their assessment. Without joyously murderfucking my way through the formation. Without becoming the unholy apex terror they knew I could be. That they knew I was. That they wanted, maybe even needed me to be.

When I could trust my voice even a little bit, as Olga's footsteps came up behind me but long before she stood behind me, I called out, "good afternoon, Bois! You all are looking good! Is this all of you?" Thousands of halberds thumped into the Green once. "Fantastic! So, tell me, Bois, are you ready to go fuck some shit up?" Another thump, this time backed by a kind of weird low hissing. "Okay! The City of Calverton has been taken by Undead. Now, right now the Alliance, including all the troops Calverton was able to evacuate, is moving troops to take it back, to cleanse that unholy shit out of one of our Cities, but as of now, the Undead control all the roads, all the approaches, save one. The Bay. The docks are where we will breach their defenses, where we start to take our City back! So as soon as I'm done here, all of you are headed directly there. Because you guys don't need ships, do you?" Two thumps each, another hiss, this one mocking anybody who needed something as petty as 'air'. "So, here's the deal; I don't know what they've got guarding the docks. Might be nothing. Might be ships. Might be underwater zombies, or, I dunno, walking skeletons, or ghosts, or zombie alligators or some shit."

"Any of that gonna stop you?" Two thumps and another hiss. "Okay, Bois. One word of caution. They tell me there might be some really ugly Undead waiting, and while I don't think any of the weenies are gonna hurt any of you enough for you to care about it? Some of those big powerful fuckers might, and I don't want to waste you guys against shit that isn't in your wheelhouse to fight." I reached behind myself, grabbing my own pole arm, my swordstaff, lighting up a massive Mana Blade on one end. "So. You hit one of those? Something that kills you faster than you can hurt it? Something that you can't take down with teamwork or the power of friendship or even that gun you found? I'll have some Jotnar coming along behind to back you up, if it's just something that's too big. But if that doesn't get the job done? You all fall back and let me know. Got it?"

One big thump. "You all ready to do this thing?" One huge thump, and a kind of collective roar as their jaws dropped open just far enough. "Then roll out. We'll be along with rations and backup as soon as possible." With a loud roar, they all saluted, about-faced, and charged off Westward, their formation narrowing to a column as they hit the nearest road.

"You catch all that, Olga?"

She looked down at me, for some reason more than a little fear in her eyes. "Get what?" I waved to the Trolls advancing Westward, and she shrugged. "I don't speak Troll."

Well. Shit. Bit of an oops there. "Oh. Well. They're heading to Calverton to set up a beachhead. I need Svart to get supply ships sailing to feed them when they do. Just, like, hold off from landing until they've secured it." She nodded. "I need you to hand pick as many Jotnar you can trust who can ford the Bay to back them up. I don't know that they'll need it, but if they hit something big, like, I dunno, a Dragon or some shit, I want them to have the backup they need."

She nodded. "And what if we hit something even we Jotnar can't deal with? Like, for instance, a Dragon of sufficient size?"

I smiled up at her. "That's when you call me, and I do what I do best." She raised an eyebrow, looking down at me. I lit off a Mana Blade on the other end of my Swordstaff, then spun the whole thing to burn twelve inch moat into the ground around me.

"Fuck. Shit. Up."