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Evildoers, Beware! (A Demon Lord's LitRPG Adventure) [OLD VERSION]
Chapter 2: In Which the Prince of Demons Chooses a Character Class

Chapter 2: In Which the Prince of Demons Chooses a Character Class

“This is growing tiresome.” The Prince of Demons groaned, all but resigning himself from the task at hand.

“Your Highness? We haven’t even made it through five minutes yet.” Terminus argued, “You won’t get anywhere until you’ve selected a Character Class. And I’m sorry, but I just can’t condone letting you run off to kill demons until that happens.”

“So, you say.” Orcus replied, “Though I don’t see what any of this has to do with that sweeping presentation you just delivered a moment ago. Hm? The world should simply rejoice that I have elected to spare it for the time being. I’m even going out of my way to slay their enemies for them.”

“Ugh, for the tenth time, it’s part of your Akashic Record. You can’t become more powerful until you start to earn experience points. And guess what, oh Wise One? You can’t earn experience points until you have at least one character level. That’s how it works.”

Orcus wagged his finger “No-no-no, earn? The Prince of Demons does not earn, he takes. He conquers.”

“Believe me, I gathered that much already.” Terminus said sarcastically, shaking his head, “But if you want to start killing and questing, then we play by my rules. This is strictly non-negotiable.”

“…Fine.” Orcus replied petulantly, but changed the subject, “Now, explain these ‘classes’ to me again. Slower, this time. Just why in the hell would I ever wish to choose the ‘Bard’ class? I have no use for silly songs and cheap tricks. Now, this ‘Fighter’ class, on the other hand, sounds quite promising. I could get behind something like that…”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think ‘Bard’ was the one for you anyway.” Terminus mumbled, “Moving on. Fighter is a good choice, a safe choice. But the Adventurers’ Guild is flush for them, given its low-difficulty entry point. I think we should focus on your other strong suites. You’re going to want a class that compliments your natural abilities. Now, we’ll get to those in a moment. But during my pre-diagnostic check, I was able to determine that your three highest abilities are Strength, Constitution, and Charisma.”

“Do not sound so surprised.” The Prince of Demons chuckled. Of course, he excelled in such things. Not that he thought he was lacking anywhere at all, as he added, “Proceed.”

“As the Prince of Demons, I figured that it would be paramount to you that you maintained an inspiring presence on the battlefield, allowing for a wide array of support capabilities, while also playing into your keener senses as a formidable warrior. Along that line of thinking, I highly suggest we go with the ‘Paladin’ class.”

Orcus wrinkled his nose, “Paladin? As in a holy warrior? No, I think not. Even were I to play into the eccentricity of this entire situation, I find reason to believe that would be most unbecoming.”

“Not a holy warrior, Your Highness. Not even a holy avenger. No, what I’m talking about is right up your alley. You will become a conqueror of demons. Or, uh… you will once you reach third level. I’ve taken the liberty of charting out several comprehensive multiclass routes for you. We can review those later. My point being, a ‘Paladin’ is more than what you think it is. Your oath is what binds you. Call me crazy, but I seem to strike you as a being of utmost conviction.”

“A conqueror? Hmm…” Orcus muttered, He hadn’t thought of it that way, and the image was most pleasing to him. Snapping back to the present, he said, “I am impressed by your attention to detail, bird. Perhaps when I set out to conquer this world as well, I shall make you into my spymaster.”

“You’re not even level one yet.” Terminus rejected plainly, “Let’s save that kind of talk for when you’ve actually started doing something.”

“Paladin.” Orcus stated tastefully, liking the sound of it, “That is my class. Yes? Shall we go kill demons now?”

“What? No! Sit down, Your Highness.”

“Guh…” Orcus grumble.

His patience was being severely tested here!

*************

Class

Paladin

Proficiencies

Weapon Proficiencies: Melee Weapons, Ranged Weapons

Armor Proficiencies: Light Armor, Medium Armor, Heavy Armor, Shields

Skill Proficiencies: Athleticism, Persuasion

Class Features

Remedial Reservoir: You have a reservoir of remedial magic that can mend wounds and cure certain ailments, which Replenishes fully after a Rest. By touching a living creature, you can draw power from the reservoir to restore a small amount of Health to them equal to your Paladin level times five. You can also expend five units of mana from your reservoir to cure the target of one minor disease or neutralize one poison affecting it. This feature has no effect on undead or constructs.

Mystic Sight: The presence of Law, Chaos, Good, and Evil register on your sense of sight. Upon activation of this ability, you can open your mystic sight to see such forces. For thirty seconds thereafter, you know the location of any celestial, fiend, or undead in an area that you can you see. You can use this feature a number of times per day equal to one plus your Charisma score. When you finish a Rest, you regain all expended uses.

Equipment

Chain Mail, Divine Symbol (Orcus), Shield, Whip, Mace, Adventurer's Pack

*************

The text overlayed Orcus’s vision as he studied its contents momentarily, awaiting the bird to direct him onward. If he was going to have any shot at defeating the demon armies, he was going to have to study this page further, and make sure that he not only understood what he was capable of, but where most of his progress ought to be directed. Anyhow, that was a task for another time.

“Ability Scores.” Terminus continued, “Your ability scores represent physical and mental parameters. Now, I’ve already accounted for your previous life. I believe that your death resulted in as high as a sixty percent drop-off in your abilities across the board. Your physical scores are relative to your current body, but your mental scores would have taken a much bigger hit upon death. Try not to be too alarmed, this is all accurate information.”

*************

Ability Scores

Strength: 2

Dexterity: 0

Constitution: 2

Intelligence: 1

Wisdom: -1

Charisma: 3

*************

“And what do these numbers do for me exactly?” Orcus asked as he inspected the scores for himself. If his wisdom wasn’t so much visibly lower than some of his other scores, he might have called the bird a liar for insisting that he was somehow more mentally deficient than in his previous life.

“These are the scores which dictate your overall aptitude in certain skills and abilities.” Terminus explained, “Zero is about average for most mortals, which means most of your scores are above average, to varying degrees. You’ll make note of your high Charisma score. People will be quick to notice you, and you’ll probably find yourself at the center of attention more often. You’ll also find that people will either respect, envy, or fear you on a much more exaggerated spectrum. Hence another reason why I believed the ‘Paladin’ class to be to your advantage.”

“Indeed.” Orcus said with a grunt of satisfaction, “Are we done, then? I would like to get going as soon as possible. If I am to slay the demon armies, I must begin to understand the lay of this land immediately. I should like to find somewhere to train this body, as well. And perhaps acquire a map of the surrounding area.”

“Almost done.” Terminus replied, “Let’s just finish up with your contextual information. Pay careful attention to some of your background features. You’re not like most mortals. Your soul has been re-written onto this homunculus body, which means it’s been translated according to your previous life. Obviously, as the Prince of Demons, you would have clocked-in at a very high ‘Difficulty Rating’, meaning ninety-nine percent of mortals would have found it extremely difficult to face you head-on in battle, unless they themselves were of a very high character level. Not all your past abilities have translated over, mind you, but a few have.”

*************

Background

Prince of Demons

Proficiencies

Skill Proficiencies: Arcanum, Divinity

Languages: You understand and can speak all languages

Background Abilities

Seeing III: You can see normally in darkness, both magical and nonmagical.

Telepathy: You can speak telepathically to any creature you can see.

Resistances: Poison

Immunities: Charmed, Frightened

Master of Undeath: You know the ‘Necrotic Bolt’ cantrip. You know the ‘Negate Essence’ spell and can cast it at will, without expending mana, a number of times per day equal to your paladin level. You also know the ‘Inspire Dread' and ‘Reanimate I’ spells, each of which you can cast once without expending mana. You regain the ability to cast those two Spells in this way when you finish a Rest. Charisma is your Spellcasting ability for each of these spells.

Equipment

Fine Clothes, Signet Ring, purse containing 25 blood coins

*************

“And that’s about it.” Terminus concluded, “You can review your personal information before we lock it all in.”

*************

Personal Information

Name: Orcus, Prince of Demons

Race: Unspecified (GM notes: A Demon Lord’s soul trapped inside a homunculus’ body? Go figure.)

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Creature Type: Humanoid (GM Note: Not a construct in-system, but is a construct otherwise? Long-term goal: make it makes sense.)

Age: 1417 mortal years (GM Note: Body is around 1000 years old. That would put its creation around the time of the Dominus Siderum, and the Wayfarer Wars)

Height: 5’9’’

Weight: 155 lbs.

Eye Color: dark red

Hair Color: red

Skin tone: fair

Ethical Alignment: Lawful

Moral Alignment: Evil-ish (GM Note: There’s an underpinned disposition towards Neutral buried deep in there somewhere. Good might be a hard sell, but not out of the question! follow-up required; 90-day analysis withstanding.)

Skill Proficiencies: Intimidation (GM Note: This isn’t accurate information. I’m scribbling this in here strictly because he asked me to, though I don’t think he’ll read these notes anyway!)

Special Feat: Shield Master

*************

“It is agreeable.” Orcus nodded, having not read most of it.

“Excellent.” Terminus replied, “Now before we—”

Moooooo!

The sudden wailing of cattle resounded outside, prompting Orcus to ignore whatever the bird was trying to say and to move toward the window.

Beyond the homestead, cows bolted in the pasture, flailing through the tall grass as they fled from three gangly creatures stalking throughout the brush. A wiry old man in blue breeches stood in the field, shouting obscurities at his livestock, hardly aware of the danger that lurked nearby.

“Say, those are… manes?” Orcus furrowed his brow, “Roaming of their own whims? And what the—they’re totally trying to kill those cows! Scum of the earth.”

“Your Highness, er… why exactly do you care?” Terminus asked, hopping over to the window to get a better look for himself, “I thought the Prince of Demons didn’t place much value in the lives of mortal creatures?”

“Not true, and not even the point in this matter.” Orcus shook his head dourly, “You see those wretched creatures in the field just there? Those are manes. I use their kind as fertilizer for my palace gardens. You might say that they’re the lowest form of fiend—profane souls considered much too blasphemous in life to pass even the first gate of heaven. But left uncontested in the mortal world, they can prove to be quite formidable. And you think I’m about to let them kill those cows and grow stronger than me? Over my dead body.”

“Wait, what…?”

“If anyone were to kill those damned cows, you can count on it being me!”

“Your Highness?!?”

Orcus leapt through the window and fell straight to the ground below with a heavy thud, giving little thought to anything else but his intense desire to rid the pasture of worthless spirits.

--- 4 points of falling damage ---

Health: 2/6

He didn’t even notice the flashing of text in his peripheral vision, nor the slight pain that shocked his barren ankles as he touched the ground. Orcus was far too focused on not letting those lowly demons kill the cows before he even had the chance to consider doing it himself!

The Prince of Demons, fully nude and shockingly pale beneath the morning sun, streaked across the farmstead and leapt over the wooden fence, flying forth and landing in the field on the other side. He looked very much like a ghoul, waddling through the wet, prickly grass as it grated against his barren body. But still he persisted.

“Out of the way!” Orcus shouted, “Flee, mortal! Damn it all!”

“Hm?” The old man turned around, and his bushy-white beard wrinkled as he stared outwardly. But he was much too slow, and Orcus decked him full-on, sending the feeble old fellow rolling down into a patch of grass with a spry shriek.

“Your Highness?!” Terminus shouted from the air above him, flying just overhead, “Would it really have killed you to inform me of this absurd plan of yours? And why did you jump out the window? Four points of damage from that, and you don’t even have your class yet. Could you please be more mindful—”

“Less talking, bird.” Orcus shouted upwards, “More of making yourself useful. You can start by finding me a weapon!”

“Gah! You sure know how to lean into that low wisdom score, don’t you?” Terminus groaned, but added more assuredly, “Right. Punching in your Character Class. All systems are a-go. Get ready!”

In the blink of an eye, and with a flash of light, Orcus’s Akashic Record was fully operational.

*************

Class: Paladin 1

Experience: 0/300 xp

Health: 8/12

Stamina: 3/3

Mana: 4/4 (level-locked; prerequisite not met)

Armor Class: 16 (18 with shield, status: unequipped)

*************

As the light faded, Orcus found that he was now considerably well-armed and appropriately covered-up. He wore light chain mail beneath a loose tunic, with a red mantle around his neck that fell open to his elbows and midsection. Dark breeches tucked away into the tall, dark leather of his boots, while a sturdy mace and coiled whip hung off rivets along his belt. His forearms were protected by similar leather vambraces, with his wrists wrapped and his hands covered by a type of padded, fingerless glove. A hefty backpack was securely strapped to his flank, and a brilliant shield slung over his left shoulder. As Orcus regarded himself, the red, crystalline amulet that hung around his neck glistened beneath the light of the sun. Its shape was that of a ram’s skull, and its eyes beamed with intense but brief crimson luster.

“Well now, that’s more like it!” Orcus shouted in satisfaction, “Finely done, bird.”

“Not out of this one yet, Your Highness!” Terminus beckoned, “Look!”

Peering across the field, Orcus watched as the manes rose from the grass. Having been stirred by the sudden commotion, the wretched souls were making their move at last.

Orcus grimaced.

Yes, his body was weak. Yes, he had already taken some damage. The former was explicitly understood, the latter was an oversight he wasn’t aware of at the time. Even still, the rush of adrenaline in battle was intense, and there were only three of them. If he was quick, there wouldn’t be anything to worry about.

This was going to be fun.

----------------------------------------

With his mace drawn, and his shield held firmly, Orcus leapt into action.

His attention settled firstly on the nearest of the manes. Their unsuspecting gazes still very much suspended by an instinctive desire to consume the cattle nearby. In that regard, an opportunity presented the Prince of Demons with a narrow margin for surprise. But of course, he did not have the gumption for sneakiness.

Decisively, Orcus ran through the brush separating him from the field in which the fiendish creatures gave chase.

“Die, scum!” Orcus relented.

In a single, swift motion, his iron mace arced through the air toward the nearest mane’s ghoulish head; a one-stop shop selling all but maximum damage!

Whoosh!

The attack missed.

And if the Prince of Demons hadn’t been so stunned by his sheer incompetence in that moment, he just might have felt the slight, cool breeze generated by the weight of his weapon as it cut through nothing but air.

Orcus gritted his teeth, “Curses.”

However, the nearest mane turned toward him with an unintelligible moan and several chittering noises. It’s hideous, fleshy body flailed through the grass as it lunged in for a strike.

The creature was quicker than Orcus thought it would be. He winced, as sharp claws etched past his shield and sliced down the side of his arm.

--- 3 points of slashing damage ---

Health: 5/12

The field of semi-transparent text blinked in Orcus’s upper left-hand view, as he reeled back from the sudden counterattack. A sense of shock overtook him momentarily, as he regarded the lethality of these creatures, or rather that he might have underestimated their capabilities, given his own circumstances.

Without thinking into it too much, Orcus leapt backward with a slight smirk, easily avoiding a reactionary swipe as the mane lurched forward. His wound throbbed, but it wasn’t fatal. Furthermore, the other two manes were still a distance away, seemingly uninterested. He needed to focus on taking this one out.

Gripping his mace tightly, the Prince of Demons stepped in for his attack.

--- critical hit! ---

--- 9 points of bludgeoning damage ---

In one single swing of his arm, Orcus groaned as his mace connected with the side of the mane’s face. A split second was all it took for the iron prongs to squeeze through the bulbous face of the creature, ripping apart the lower portion of his head, as Orcus followed through.

Little noise escaped the creature as it fell to the ground with a heavy thud. A spray of black, rotting ichor doused Orcus’s shield as he took several heavy breaths.

One down, two more to go.

“Not bad, Your Highness!” Terminus shouted from above, “But keep in mind, you just scored a critical hit. That mane would have likely survived any other attack if you didn’t score extra damage. Don’t let these creatures deceive you, still plenty of work to do!”

“Hm.” Orcus grunted, somewhat amused by the worldly system’s antics, but was otherwise intent on finishing what he’d started.

In the mayhem, the remaining two manes seemed to have increased their fervor. Both moved in the opposite direction, continuing to chase the cattle. Without another moment to waste, Orcus flung himself after them.

Soon thereafter, the writhing moans of a cow inundated the air, as Orcus came upon the next closet mane. Its teeth sunk into broad flanks of flesh with violent ferocity. But the Prince of Demons did not relent his pursuit, and hastily moved in for the kill.

However, Orcus’s nearsighted focus suddenly got the better of him, as the third mane breached the clearing unexpectedly. It had likely smelled blood in the air, and Orcus growled at his lack of awareness. The mane thrust itself into Orcus’s path, and he couldn’t bring his shield up in time to block the strike.

--- 4 points of slashing damage ---

Health: 1/12

“Guh—” Orcus clutched his abdomen, a long gash opening on his right side.

“Your Highness!”

Orcus gritted his teeth, unwilling to give in so easily. He propped his shield back up along his left arm and fought with all his strength.

--- 7 points of bludgeoning damage ---

Iron met flesh with a sickening crunch, as Orcus’s mace sunk deep into the creature’s left arm. The strike tore chunks of pale, withering flesh away as he willed the weapon back to him. But in that same movement, an instinctual action overcame the Prince of Demons. He thrust his shield arm outward and heaved the mane backwards, shoving it across the field only a few feet. The split-second decision was just enough to give Orcus the space needed to reposition himself.

“Desperate mongrel.” Orcus hissed at the mane, “I will give you a swift death.”

“Your Highness, you have to fall back.” Terminus insisted, “You’re hanging on by a thread!”

“No!” Orcus shouted, the act itself painful. Though his body was merely a creation, he could feel the searing in his wounds, and the blood-like material that seeped from him and blotched his garments.

He was the Demon King of Conquerors. The Prince of Undeath. He would not relent. Not ever.

A worthless soul was deemed as such because of its lack of ambition; because of its unwillingness to forge ahead. Evil and good, chaos and order… these things did not matter in the burning heart of one’s soul. A wretched creature was thus so, and would never overcome the determination of the Prince of Demons.

The mane lunged; it’s salivating maw bit down on hard steel as Orcus thrust his shield forward. The creature clambered, frantic to kill and to feed. Orcus winced through the pain, ramming his shield out so that the mane’s body bounced backward ever so slightly. Grinding his foot into the dirt, Orcus swung his mace down and into an upward cut.

--- 6 points of bludgeoning damage ---

Orcus’s mace met the creature’s jaw head-on. Crooked teeth were ejected into the air, along with most of its right eye as well, as the undead came crashing down into the field.

Thud!

Orcus had little time to take in the moment, let alone catch his breath, as something hard toppled over him, sending him straight into the dirt.

He scrambled around onto his back, but the last of the mane’s was on top of him in a flash. Cow’s blood dripped from its open mouth onto Orcus’s face, mere inches away, as it groaned at him. Orcus simply growled back, his hand greatly in search of the mace’s hilt. His shield was awkwardly positioned, and the massive body of the mane had him pinned in place.

The mane opened his mouth further, two rows of jagged teeth greeted Orcus with a smell of death and decay. Orcus, fully prepared to make his defense, readied himself.

But the attack never came.

Instead, a spray of dark ichor suddenly splattered out across Orcus’s face, as the bladed end of some polearm pressed through the back of the mane’s head and straight through its mouth, stopping just short of Orcus’s nose.

With a meager whimper, the mane gasped, but was immediately heaved aside.

The Prince of Demons squinted beneath the sunlight, catching the sight of a tall silhouette. As his vision settled, Orcus looked up and saw the indifferent grin of a young man, tall and armored only on his left shoulder, bearing a strong gait. He brandished a maul in his hand and wiped away sweaty bangs of brown hair in the other, then rubbing the stubbled hairs of his chin as he glanced down.

“Sorry, kiddo.” He huffed in a confident tone of voice, with the faintest twitch of his slightly pointed ears, then saying, “Why don't you leave the rest to me now?”

“Kid? The insolence—”

But Orcus’s annoyance was put to rest almost instantly.

“Your Highness?” Terminus squawked, “More incoming!”

As he rose to his feet, the Prince of Demons did notice the additional three manes stalking in the field nearby. They were readily alert, and drawing ever closer.

“Heh.” The man grunted amusedly, who was a good six inches taller than Orcus was, as his hands grasped the maul with renewed energy, “Stay back here, alright?”

“I will not.” Orcus stated simply, brandishing his own mace and shield, having wiped away most of the ichor from his face.

“Suit yourself. Just stay out of my way.” He chuckled. Weapon drawn, his gaze turned on the creatures with a fantastical grin, as he shouted, “These assholes are mine!”

“…What fury.” Orcus murmured, inspired somewhat by the mortal’s theatrics as he rushed forward.

“We should get you back to safety, Your Highness.” Terminus said, landing in the dirt next to him, “You don’t look so good.”

“Yes…” Orcus pondered, twisting his expression into a grin, “You may flee, if you wish. I have unfinished business here. It is my oath to conquer demons, is it not?”

“Uh-oh... Your Highness?!?”

The Prince of Demons was just barely clinging to life, and that man with the maul was a certified maniac. Even still, Orcus was not going to be out classed by a mere mortal man!