An hour before that...
As Salladar left the war council to follow the Dryad Queen, he didn't notice that two of the heroes remained behind. A man and a woman, both in robes. However, the cut and color were vastly different. His robe was loose-fitting, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal his beer belly. The hood pulled low cast shadows over his unremarkable face. Hers, on the other hand, clung tightly to her slender yet curvaceous figure. His was woven from white fabric, but where the other mages of the hero group wore radiant white, his robe was yellowed and dull. As though stitched together from the remains of ancient mummies.
Her robe, in contrast, gleamed silkily in the light of the fire braziers, shimmering between midnight black and the gray of cold ashes. An interesting contrast to her thin, light brown fur.
In a bored motion, she ran her hand over her head. When her hand reached her ears, she hesitated briefly, looking puzzled. She completed the motion, pushing her tall ears back. As her ears sprung back up, she started to move.
The man in the faded robe reached for her shoulder to hold her back. She reflexively grabbed his forearm with both hands, leaning forward and narrowly suppressed the urge to throw the possible attacker over her shoulder. Then she quickly let go. "Apologies, Mr. Krüger. I haven't fully mastered the skill-driven reflexes of this body yet."
He waved it off casually. "You'll get there." He unabashedly ran his gaze up and down her body. "When I suggested you choose a character class with bonuses to dexterity, I was actually thinking more of elves than rabbit folk."
She didn't flinch. When her boss informed her that she would be accompanying him on trips more often in the future, she hadn't expected a trip into virtual reality. After learning the "destination," she had assumed he wanted her for very different "services." The fact that he actually only needed someone to serve as his bodyguard and right hand surprised her. Consequently, she optimized her avatar differently during character creation. Fortunately, she had assessed her boss correctly enough to optimize her character for his alleged task. A sleepless night of research in gaming forums had provided her with enough information on the internal game rules and character creation rules.
"Rabbit folk possess a +2 bonus to dexterity, akin to elves. However, in addition to this, rabbit folk also enjoy a +2 bonus to evasion and a 20% enhancement to their jumping prowess."
"Have you also studied the culture of your people?"
“Why bother? According to server statistics, there are only a few players who choose rabbit folk. Probably because it's a pacifist race."
"Exactly. You are a pariah among your people simply by choosing a fighter class."
She shrugged disinterestedly. "I'm not bothered by the aversion of fictional characters in the least."
He tapped his eyebrow and looked at her ring piercings placed in the same spot.
She raised her hands. Rings gleamed on eight of her fingers. "I chose Ring Master and Piercing Gaze as advantages. With piercings, I bypass the limit on the number of rings. I believe one of the original programmers wasn't paying attention to the definition of rings."
"Piercing Gaze is a disadvantage, not an advantage." His voice sounded more questioning than reproachful.
"I don't see the frightened reaction of NPCs as a disadvantage. I've already compensated for the restriction on night vision due to permanently constricted pupils with a cheap magical ring." She tapped one of the three piercings in her eyebrows. "The other two are currently just decoration; I'll replace them with something useful at the next opportunity. Currently, I've already maxed out my budget."
He looked questioningly at the simple silver rings on her fingers. She raised her hands again. "Two rings each with a +5% bonus to damage, accuracy, and attack speed. Normally, you can only wear one artifact with the same effect, but thanks to Ring Master, I can use two identical rings. Plus, I get a 20% bonus to the effect of rings." She brought her hands back, folded them behind her back, and involuntarily rocked back and forth slightly. Frowning, she looked down at her bare feet. Umbramar had long noticed that she often came to work wearing different shoes. He could imagine that she was annoyed that she couldn't buy shoes in VR. However, she didn't need to worry about protection. Her feet had thick calluses that allowed her to walk on broken glass. She interrupted his thoughts. "I must admit, when you mentioned that I should accompany you on trips, I didn't expect virtual reality."
He merely nodded. What was the point of having an executive secretary if you didn't have her with you in your free time?
She looked around. The other player heroes were already out of sight. "Excuse me, Mr. Krüger, but shouldn't we follow the rest of the group?"
"Please don't call me that. In VR, my name is Umbramar. We'll be on a first-name basis from now on. That's common among players." She only nodded. She had worked in a company where using first names was common, even though it seemed inappropriate to her.
He motioned for her to follow him and went in a completely different direction from the other heroes. Shrugging, she followed him. After fifteen minutes, dense thorn bushes blocked the way. Jezebel stopped him. "Wait, we can't get through here. Where are we actually going?"
Umbramar headed purposefully towards the shrubbery and raised his staff. Sickly light flickered from the skull, and a path opened up. She followed him. Interested, she examined the bushes at the edge of the tunnel. The branches were pulled aside by ropes, which thickened at irregular intervals as they converged.
"What exactly are these ropes? And how do you control them? That seems like a useful trick." She ran her hand over a rope, trying to categorize the strange surface. The fibers were arranged lengthwise instead of interwoven. As they contracted, they became thicker.
"These are muscles from zombies."
Jezebel looked at the sinew, furrowing her brow, then slowly withdrew her hand. As soon as she was through the thorn hedge, Umbramar waved, and the tunnel closed behind them once again.
On the other side, a hollow hidden by the hedge stretched out, in the center of which rose a fifty-meter-diameter circle of trees. The trunks stood so close together that one could only squeeze through sideways. Higher up, the branches intertwined into a dense canopy. Jezebel bent down and slowly ran her hand through the grass. Everything here seemed more alive than in the rest of the forest, indeed the rest of the world she had seen so far. The grass was greener and juicier. The songbirds flying through the branches sounded more melodious. Everything practically radiated with health. The air smelled aromatic, of herbs and mountain air. Moreover, there was a sense of grandeur over the clearing that she couldn't quite place.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Around the ring of trees, a dozen warriors in simple leather armor were busy piling wood from several donkey carts around the trees.
A tall old man hurried towards them. He had long white hair and a matching beard that hung down to his belly. He was dressed in a simple brown robe held together by a vine above the hip. His face was brown and weather-beaten, full of wrinkles... and currently slightly flushed with anger. "You! You're the leader of these vandals! They should be erecting barriers around the temple, not just tossing the wood about. It would be more sensible to build it directly from the wagons instead of scattering it wildly!"
Umbramar bowed deeply. "Forgive me, Archdruid Hasel, I am a priest-mage, not a carpenter."
Golden sparks lit up around his head. Jezebel sharply inhaled as Umbramar discreetly forwarded her his system messages. It was a truth spell. She had read about such magic in the forum. She knew that such magic was only available for high level casters. This meant the druid was at least level 9, which was very high for npcs. It was fortunate that truth spells were only available to spellcasters specializing in life magic. The rare druids and healers, that is. If everyone could use truth spells everywhere, it would be detrimental to her style. Intrigues and character assassination would be almost impossible.
The necromancer priest straightened up again and drew a circle deep into the ground around himself with his staff. He dug deep into the healthy topsoil. Then he calmly took a bottle from his shoulder bag and poured a thick black liquid from it into the depression. He stepped cautiously out of the circle and nodded to the druid. "We don't have much time until the attackers reach us. Please step into this circle so I can cast a spell on you."
The druid made no move to step forward but instead narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What's the purpose of this?"
"I don't have enough time to explain the spell to you in detail. It will help me fulfill my quest. The defense of the temple depends on you. If you don't hurry, the invaders will conquer the temple. I will use the majority of my magic for this purpose. That should show you how important it is to me."
Golden sparks danced merrily around him, testifying to the truth of his words. The archdruid nodded and stepped into the circle. Umbramar walked around him under his breath and then stood directly in front of the archdruid. He thrust his staff into the ground beside him, so that it remained upright. Then he drew a dagger of blackened steel from a belt sheath and cut his left palm with a swift motion. He let the blood drip freely unto the circle and circled the druid again while muttering a spell. When he stood behind him for the second time, he raised his left hand high to the sky and then clenched it into a fist abruptly.
Like a marionette with its strings cut, the archdruid collapsed to his knees. With trembling arms, he struggled to keep his upper body from toppling forward. His skin grew pale, the wrinkles deeper. The slight groan with which he collapsed was enough to dislodge a few hairs from his beard, which silently fell to the ground.
Rustling sounded around them in the bushes. Elk, owls, huge wild boars, and agile foxes stormed onto the clearing. The animals looked around searchingly.
Hasel lifted his hands to a pleading gesture, while he futilely tried to form words with a shriveling and drying tongue. His hands met an invisible barrier at the level of the now glowing circle.
Umbramar stood behind him, drew back with the dagger, and then rammed it into the back of the helpless archdruid. Black flames erupted from his eyes, mouth, and ears, then he collapsed completely.
The animals twitched and then looked around confused. Foxes and owls darted away in alarm, and the elk, looking somewhat uncertain, began to graze. The wild boars probed the ground briefly and then also set off, leaving behind numerous low tunnels through the thorn bushes.
Enemy killed: Archdruid, Level 14: 280 XP
Umbramar looked satisfied at the message. Then he waved one of the warriors over to him. "You, VorpalBlade, how far along are you?"
"The wood has been completely unloaded. We lingered with the last pieces until you arrived, Master."
"Good. Execute plan Winterstorm."
"Yes, sir!" With a few gestures, he signaled the others to retrieve bottles from hidden compartments in the wagons and throw them onto the pile of wood that now completely surrounded the wooden temple. Other warriors opened barrels and took out torches, which they ignited at a small campfire securely enclosed by stones and distributed around.
Softer applause made him turn around. Jezebel grinned at him. "Impressive. You completely caught the guy off guard."
"That's the downside of constantly using truth spells. You stop paying attention to the exact words. Wait a moment, I have something important to take care of." He turned to the corpse, straightened up, cleared his throat, and then declaimed loudly: "Now, Archdruid, your naive connection to nature has betrayed you. Separated from the life force of the forest that kept your aging body alive, you are nothing but a withering relic. Once you are eliminated, I will consign the temple to the flames. I will Destroy it, in the name of Nistrul, the Guardian of the Gates to the Underworld, my Lord!"
Jezebel raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you give such a speech before you destroy your opponent?"
Umbramar looked at her with exaggerated surprise. "That would be illogical. Then he could still do something about it. I have, of course, studied the Evil Overlord rules."
"Why even make a speech then?"
Without a word, he transmitted to her a view of his last message:
Role-play Bonus (Classic Villain Speech): +20 XP
"Every little bit helps. But now help me distribute the Inferno Elixirs. Even without the power of the archdruid, this grove is magically protected against fire. Without a magical accelerant, this won't work."
"Where did you get all these helpers from?"
"From the Noob Starter Zone near Ostenbach. That's where the players who got beta access but can't afford a more expensive starter zone spawn. They also don't have decent equipment. They can spend three weeks there hunting meadow slimes and rats just to reach level 5 and earn enough gold from hunting rewards to buy acceptable equipment. Or they can take an official quest from the Church of Nistrul. A cool secret mission. Fifty gold pieces per head and the XP for a high-level quest."
"Wait, I haven't..."
Quest Offer: Do you want to accept the quest "Winterstorm in the Druid Grove"?
Reward: 50 gold pieces, 500 XP.
Warning: Decreased reputation with all druids and forest beings.
"I accept."
Umbramar smiled. "You haven't even read the victory conditions yet."
"The temple must be destroyed?"
"That's one thing. In addition, the three last priests of Fliedabarr must die. That's the Forest Queen, her dryad daughter, and the archdruid."
"The Forest Queen is currently fighting on her own, the archdruid is dead. But the princess is on the run. That's going to be complicated."
"Not really. Three dozen of those noobs are waiting on the only reasonable escape route. They don't stand a chance."
"Where are the three guys supposed to pick up this seed box?"
"They should be appearing any moment now. Without my entrance, they have to take a detour completely around the grove." He rubbed his greasy hands expectantly.
A man in leather clothing looked up from his work of retrieving the last torches from a container. "Do you mean the seed box the druid picked up? He was here just before you."
"What?!" The eyes in Umbramar's staff skull lit up bright red. While he could keep his facial expression under control, he unconsciously channeled mana into his staff.
"A tanned guy with dark green hair. He stepped directly out of the tree over there. I immediately looked it up in the forum. That must have been the spell Tree Step. Level 3, only for druids. So, he must be at least level 6. He was in a hurry. That was one of the reasons why the archdruid was so angry. He practically snatched the box from him and didn't even listen to the speech about its history and importance. Not to mention showing appropriate respect for the head of his order."
"In which direction did he go?"
"Directly back into that tree over there. He used two level 3 spells in quick succession. He won't be casting anything for some time, I guess."
The necromancer priest looked at him with an impassive expression. The eyes of his mage staff flickered ominously. He turned to the temple. "Burn everything down!"