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Evildoers, Beware! (A Demon Lord's LitRPG Adventure) [OLD VERSION]
Chapter 6: In Which the Prince of Demons Arbitrarily Accepts His First Quest

Chapter 6: In Which the Prince of Demons Arbitrarily Accepts His First Quest

The battlefield quieted, as Orcus descended to where the rest of his party lurked. Midafternoon sun stretched across the road and surrounding fields, and the smell of blood hung in the air. Nevertheless, a muffled voice could be heard pleading for help in the silence, as well as the groans of a body shifting around in the toppled wagon.

“You okay in there?” Oriax's voice said.

“Half my stock is spilled!” A tenor voice replied insistently, but sighed, “Though…yes, I am unharmed. And I thank you kindly for asking.”

The Prince of Demons came around in time to see his tall companion pulling a middle-aged man out from the vehicle. He was about the same height as Orcus, but slender and a bit round near his midsection. He wore elegant robes of green and yellow, and a simple coif on his head, which otherwise confined a spot of receding black hair. The man rubbed the ends of his dark, pointed mustache as he fumbled around in his pockets, producing a pair of glasses moments later.

"That's better." He groaned, then proceeded to look ahead of him, "Oh–hello.”

“Who are you?” Orcus demanded an answer.

“Eh, Chauncey.” He said with a slight bow of his head, before resetting the glasses on the bridge of his nose, “Chauncey Hamet, indubitably at your service.”

“Got a lot of shit in your wagon.” Oriax replied, peering inside the vehicle. He shook his head, glancing at Orcus, “No weapons though.”

“Well, it’s not like I thought I’d need one!” Chauncey insisted, “That’s not the kind of man I am, truthfully.”

Orcus furrowed his brow, somewhat nauseated by all the colored fabric he was wearing, “Do you make a habit out of this kind of display… Chauncey Hamet. You seem far too agreeable for a man who’s just avoided certain death.”

“I'm a merchant for the Alchemists’ Guild.” He chuckled, but stood tall as he added, “I have two double-marks and a silver medallion on my guild crest. By no means a platinum marketplace dealer, but no peddler either. Potions are in high demand these days. Although I can’t say I’ve had too many issues, no. I don’t normally travel the Mistlecross route, as it were.”

“Potions…” Orcus murmured, "I take it that is a lucrative business?”

“And prolific in this darkened spot on our history.” Chauncey added, “Manga Terra is a dangerous place to be these days, Areshlian even more so. We would all do well to remember that.”

“Same story everywhere.” Oriax shook his head, “Little guys like you don’t stand a chance, ain’t no way. Hell, only reason healing hands here is still kicking, is because he packs a punch. You feel me?”

“Er... healing hands? I don’t—”

“Do not let him distract you. As it happens, your men are quite dead.” Orcus interjected, glancing back toward the aftermath, “I would go so far as to say that you were woefully unprepared for an encounter like this. Is it your wish to die as well?”

“Of course not! The loss of life is simply terrible.” Chauncey shook with a heartfelt sigh, “Believe me, many Alchemists' have searched for the elixir of life itself. In any case, I asked the Guild for more means to hire protection, but I’m afraid this was all they could spare me. Alas, Ambracaster’s Guild Hall is not what it used to be. Many of the Guilds across the Principalities of Areshlian aren’t what they used to be…”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Terminus interjected, landing on one of the wheel spokes as he asked, “Where abouts were you heading? You mentioned Mistlecross, but all the major cities have Guild Halls. Why would you be expected to make such a journey, especially one so shorthanded?”

“Endsmeet, actually.” Chauncey replied, “The Mages’ Guild outpost in town submitted a large order of mana potions a few weeks back, and our Guild Hall in Mistlecross simply couldn’t fill it on-time. I knew there was a risk of danger. Of course, I had no idea it was bad enough to find snake warriors out on the main road. Communication has not been the best in recent years...”

Orcus studied the man momentarily, and nodded, “We are traveling to Endsmeet. If you are able to walk, then you will accompany us to town.”

Chauncey looked surprised, “Truly? You’d have me?”

“It is of little consequence to me.” Orcus replied with a curious shake of his head, “I may have use for your skills, and anyway, I would have you introduce me to these mages as well. Until such a time that arrangements can be made, you will not be troubled by anyone. Understood?”

“My-oh-my, I’ll take you up on that action. Absolutely!” Chauncey yipped excitedly, but frowned, “…Of course, I’ll have to salvage the rest of my shipment from out of this mess, somehow.”

“Don’t sweat it, potions, I got you.” Oriax mentioned coolly. And before long, he had set his maul aside to hoist the wagon back up onto its proper axis, as he asked, “What you want me to grab, uh… was it Chancery?”

“Chauncey.” He corrected daintily, “But oh, let me think. I suppose just those two, this one here—oh, maybe if we can just empty this one into that one…”

Orcus was thoroughly uninterested at that point, and thus elected to move back onto the main road as he pondered.

The Prince of Demons was not oblivious to the fact that mortals worshiped the Gods. But in his long tenure as the Ruler of Hades, it rarely crossed his mind to consider their offerings himself. He knew he had followers, but he never listened to their prayers. It was not faith that brought wretched souls to his realm, after all, but wickedness in all its forms. Self-serving means or mercy-seeking, if nothing else. And yet, the Ishu man that he had killed was clearly adamant in his devotion. Whether their trust in Wyrms, Demons, or clan leaders was misplaced, Orcus could not say for certain. However, he did not think for one second that the warrior was disingenuous. Disillusioned, yes, but blindly faithful.

Mortals were highly amusing creatures.

“Your Highness, is everything alright?” Terminus asked suddenly. Flying up alongside Orcus, he added, “You seem troubled.”

“I am not troubled. Merely intrigued.” Orcus stated, as he peered off into the distant east, “Tell me, bird, what do you know of something called the Ashran’shatha?”

“Ashran’shatha?” Terminus cawed ponderingly, his eyes glowing purple briefly, as they often did when he was searching through his databases, “I… don’t see anything about that. Why? Where did you hear it?”

“The dead warrior.” Orcus replied, closing his eyes, and crossing his arms as he thought aloud, “These Ishu clans seem to be a growing threat in this region of the world. Mistlecross, was it? One of their leaders, the Kingsnake called Astlir, is likely trying to summon the Uroboros from the Abyss. I suspect blood magic to be involved. There was mention of some kind of sacrifice. That warrior likely knew nothing of value, but the mention of the Uroboros intrigues me.”

“The Uroboros…” Terminus mumbled, saying more clearly, “The Great Wyrms of Terra were sealed away long before the Dominus, in the era of the Goedsfell. I doubt the Ishu clans have any idea how to summon a bound being of that caliber, even if it were just a Lesser Wyrm like the Uroboros. That thing was killed hundreds of years ago!”

“Not exactly, but rather it was rebirthed deep in the blackness of Erebus.” Orcus surmised, “Indeed, I ordered its imprisonment for that very reason. It is a creature that cannot be trusted under any circumstance; a self-destructing abomination.”

“The Uroboros is imprisoned in the Abyss?” Terminus murmured oddly, “That’s one for the archives.”

“If this Kingsnake truly means to summon a Wyrm, or at the very least believes that is what he is doing, then I am inclined to assume he is also being aided by the one solely responsible for the Uroboros’ continued existence.” Orcus added, “Someone who would no doubt have boundless knowledge regarding ancient creatures and secret rituals.”

Terminus shook his head, confusedly saying, “I don’t seem to have any information about this subject, Your Highness.”

“I am not surprised to hear that Vediovis eludes your vast reservoir of knowledge.” Orcus chuckled, “He is my spymaster, after all. The Demon Lord of treacheries, envies, and all abominable creatures. And as it happens, a creature with far too many pets.”

“Hm… Vediovis is one of the primary demi-human deities.” Terminus nodded, “It would make a lot of sense in the context of an invasion. Having blind followers on the mortal side of things certainly helps alleviate pressure on the rest of the army."

“And if he has taken ahold of the Ishu, then he will gladly expend of their numbers to achieve his ultimate goal.”

“Which is?”

Orcus peered back toward the wagon, where Chauncey was awkwardly trying to help Oriax get one more tiny box onto the pile stacked in his hands. Unfortunately, the act made Oriax drop everything, and with a fluster the potions seller had to scrutinize every box yet again. They started over with the stacking shortly thereafter.

“Do not trouble yourself over it.” Orcus replied belatedly, unsure whether or not it was actually useful to tell the bird about an ages old plan for resurrecting the Great Wyrms. Vediovis always preferred the company of creatures, not that Orcus approved in the least, who said, “We have much yet to learn of the dealings in this land. Though we will take our conflicts head-on, we will not presume anything until it suits our position.”

“A decent strategy, Your Highness. Our goal should remain focused on progressing your Character level, expanding your reputation, and gathering more intelligence. But who knows? You said we should discover more about what your fellow Gods Below are doing. We just might have an opportunity with one of them all of a sudden.”

The Prince of Demons nodded.

He doubted that there was much of anything to worry about. If what he had learned was true, then it was exactly as his minions had said: The Demon Lords were scattered in their machinations. If that was the case, perhaps Orcus might do well to get involved where he could. An opportunity to interfere with his rivals plans was perhaps on the table, and he couldn’t let it slip away.

“Are you ready to travel, merchant?” Orcus called out to Chauncey impatiently.

“Indeed, I think we are! Oh, but here.” Chauncey rummaged through his bags, producing a little brown pouch weighed down by something jingling inside, “It’s not much, but it’s all I can afford for now. Twenty sentarion (silver) pieces for my gratitude.”

Orcus accepted the pouch indifferently, and stowed it away on his person.

“By the way.” Chauncey added, “The active quest for my travels from Ambracaster to Endsmeet appears to be wide open, given my unfortunate loss of adventurers. If you’re interested… I could offer you the position? It doesn’t grant much, but it’s something. You’d also receive everything that the poor fellows I'd originally hired would have claimed on completion.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Orcus glanced at Terminus expectantly.

“Uh…” Terminus stammered, his eyes flashed several times, “I don’t see why you couldn’t, Your Highness. This party doesn’t have a Guild certification, strictly speaking, but that can’t actually stop you from accepting non-Adventurers’ Guild quests. The structure has more to do with internal claims and administrative liabilities more than anything. Chauncey, might you forward the quest invite to my terminal?”

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

Quest Invite

Security Detail (Iron)

Inviter: Alchemists’ Guild, Chauncey Hamet (Merchant, double-silver crest affiliation)

Invitee(s): Orcus (Adventurer, Paladin 1), Oriax (Adventurer, Barbarian 1)

Quest Details: Security detail from Ambracaster (Ambracaster Principality) to Endsmeet (Mistlecross Principality); x1 stop in Ylore (Free Territory); 110 miles.

Payment Structure: +1 cp per person per day, maximum of seven days allotted. Bonus of +1 sp to party upon delivery of items and merchant to the Mages' Guild; daily expenses not covered, room and board covered for one night in the town of Ylore, no exceptions!

Experience Yield: +0.5 xp per day of travel (maximum of seven days allotted), plus an additional +2 xp to party’s Alchemists’ Guild Affiliation Level.

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

“You weren’t kidding.” Terminus groaned, “These Iron ranked quests are a total shakedown! They seem to have gotten worse since the last time I was active… Regardless, any progress is good progress. Your Highness, I believe you should accept this man’s offer!”

Orcus nodded sternly, “Handle the details, bird, and let us be off!”

Journal updated

Quest updated

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

Active Quest(s): Alchemists’ Guild Quest – Security Detail (Iron); 5 miles remaining

Adventuring Day Experience: +2 xp (virtual) upon next Rest (sum of [Daily DR * 50%] + 1)

Party Loot: 0 gp | 20 sp | 0 cp | 25 bc

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

With a merchant in tow and a quest on the journal, His Highness’s First Legion now numbered four, and it was on the move once again.

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

As the day rolled over into night, the Prince of Demons and his party of four crossed over a squat, wooden bridge suspended above a gentle brook, otherwise taking in the first sights of the surrounding farmsteads and patchwork homes that dotted the town of Endsmeet's outskirts. A single road of dirt and loose gravel meandered slowly toward the town’s western gate, where a warm glow of orange light escaped above the wooden bulwark, contrasting faintly with the darkness of the evening sky above. However, it was just as the party steadily began to approach the western gate, that Terminus landed on Orcus’s shoulder, saying quietly, “Caution advisory, Your Highness. Look.”

Adventurers Not Welcome Here

The words were smudged in red splatters on a long banner, hanging just above the entrance.

“Hmm…” Orcus grumbled, “That doesn’t bode well.” Glancing over his shoulder at Oriax, he murmured, “Stay alert, Oriax. We may encounter trouble before long. Be sure you can reach your weapon. You too merchant, do not stray far.”

“Will do, hands.” Oriax said informally, muffled somewhat by the stack of boxes he was carrying, and Chauncey nodded sheepishly in agreement.

A single guard stood at the gate, young looking and adorned in leather armor, wearing the green, black, and silver colors of Mistlecross along his cloak. Hanging at his side was a simple shortsword, and he balanced much of his weight on a polearm, as he appeared to be dozing off.

Orcus did not bother stopping to address the fool, and instead proceeded to lead his party through the gate. For his part, Oriax kicked out a foot and hit the guard on his ass, which elicited a yelp and glance over his shoulder, though the party was already on their way.

As they came through the darkened tunnel, Orcus glanced to his right and noticed a weary looking guard stepping into a rickety hovel, which was connected to the perimeter wall. Two more guards could be seen sleeping soundly along the side of the same building, still fully dressed in their armor.

The Prince of Demons did not know what any of that was about, but he found the sight to be utterly appalling.

Endsmeet

The overlay in Orcus’s upper righthand view displayed the town name, as the lights of the main thoroughfare came into focus. Hooded lanterns dotted the area, offering a warm glow to the soft atmosphere of the town. Its buildings were mostly wood and thatched along the roof, oddly shaped and hardly uniform. Many little alleyways cut off from the main street, descending into further darkness. As for the dirt road, it continued along trough the town, and it was then that Orcus slowed his party to a milder pace.

“I got a bad feeling here.” Oriax mentioned, “Don’t like it at all. These people don’t look so good. It's like they're all… scared?”

“Curious…” Orcus murmured in reply.

As Oriax pointed out the unusual atmosphere of town, Orcus couldn’t help but look around too. The people on the streets seemed unkempt, and weary like the guards had been. There was a sense of lethargy in the air, and a twinge of fear perhaps. There were frightened faces, and hurried bodies. Nobody seemed quite so friendly, doing just enough to get by. It was as if some fright were gripping the town completely, refusing to let go and sapping it of all its worth. Orcus couldn't be certain what it was, but it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand tall.

“I’m certain the folks here are just on edge—who wouldn't be! You know, with what the conflict and such.” Chauncey replied nervously, “The sooner we get to the guild outpost, the sooner we can get off the road. That's what I say.”

“And I assume you know where you’re going?” Orcus replied warily, "I would like to speak with these mages at once."

“Down this street, and not too far from the town center I believe." Chauncey pointed out, "We should be able to see their tower roof from a bit of a distance away. I'm sure they'll welcome us gladly. And you can let me handle the bad news about their reduced shipment.”

Orcus nodded approvingly, and he proceeded to allow the merchant ahead of him somewhat.

“Your Highness, I think it would be in my best interest to scout out the Adventurers’ Guild outpost.” Terminus said softly, “I’m not sure where the animosity toward adventurers is coming from, but it concerns me. My social overview scan is not revealing any other adventurer information nearby. I think we're the only ones here.”

“If you believe that is your best course of action, then go.” Orcus replied in a hushed tone, “I cannot aid these mortals in their plights against my kin if they find my methods to be unwelcome. But there is a looming sense of agitation here that concerns me as well, so we will proceed with diligence. Now go, make yourself discreet. Rejoin when you’ve concluded with your business.”

Terminus cawed once, and was off into the sable of night in a matter of moments.

“Little dude not joining us?” Oriax asked oddly, craning his neck to follow the silhouette of Terminus.

“He has work to do. As do we.” Orcus replied, but whispered a second later, “Mystic Sight.”

Suddenly, his vision grew dark and swirly.

--- Mystic Sight: -1 use ---

--- Mystic Sight: 3/4 uses remaining until next Rest ---

As far as Orcus could tell, there was a great deal of chaos abound, but nothing in the way he was hoping for. There was no sign of celestial, fiendish, or even undead energy. As the thirty second window ended, Orcus was unsure what to make of it, but was keen to keep his guard up. Terminus would discover more. In the meantime, it was his goal to pick the mages brains about their dealings with the Ishu.

Soon after Terminus’s departure of the party, the three remaining members wandered down the street and across a small plaza, to where a cylindrical shaped tower with few windows stood, rising to no more than three floors in height. A little staircase led up to a blue door, and a small sign hung on a post just before it, reading ‘Mages’ Guild of Endsmeet’

“That’s odd…” Chauncey murmured, “No lights on inside.”

Orcus inspected the nearest window and confirmed that it was quite dark, saying, “Were they expecting you any day?”

“…I sure hope so.” He replied, puzzlingly scratching at his nose, “Unless they meant to spend hundreds of gold on materials they didn’t’ intend to collect!”

Setting the stack of boxes down, Oriax simply followed the stairs up to the blue door and proceeded to knock several times.

There was no answer.

“Nobody home.” Oriax cocked his head back toward Orcus, whistling, “Want me to kick it down, hands?”

“What?” Chauncey yelped, “Don’t do that! Are you crazy? You’re just asking for trouble with behavior like that. And who knows what kind of enchantments they have on this place—”

“Ah, come on, potions. It’s just a door. Look, I’ll be gentle with it.”

“Bah! Stop that! You'll get us all killed!”

Orcus groaned irritably and turned away from the tower.

Something peculiar was going on in this town. First the banner about adventurers not being welcome, then all the sleep-deprived guards, not to mention the solemn atmosphere, and now no mages?

He didn't know much about mortals, but he knew a great deal about war. Foul play was in the air. At any rate, the Prince of Demons was growing thin for patience, and he had half a mind to let Oriax break that door down. Or better yet, do it himself!

“...You won’t find the mages here.” A timid, feminine voice echoed in Orcus’s mind suddenly, “But I can help you find them… hey, are you even listening?”

“Who are you?” Orcus murmured aloud, not sure if the voice could hear him, as he glanced around himself for a moment, “Where are you hiding?”

It was then that he regarded the nearly empty plaza around them. It wasn’t so late in the evening that would warrant such emptiness, although he supposed it matched the rest of the town's eerie feel. Even still, he didn’t see anyone on the street, let alone anyone that he supposed could match the voice. It was as if the entire town was empty all of a sudden…

Regardless, he wasn’t sure how this person was communicating with him. But if it was anything like his Telepathy, then surely they would have to be within seeing range?

“…That doesn’t matter right now.” She replied belatedly, and although her tone was shy, it was a sincere sort of voice, “You’re not safe outside, not when it gets dark. I know somewhere you can lay low for now, but you have to make your decision. They’ll be back soon.”

Raising his eyebrow, Orcus said, “Bold to suggest that I’m the one in danger here. Tell me who they are, and perhaps I will forgive you your slight judgment.”

There was a long pause, before the voice replied, “Your Akashic Record speaks for itself, you know… Prince of Demons. If that is truly who you are, then please, hear me out.”

“How did you…?” Orcus said hesitantly, but shook his head, “You had best explain yourself, wretch. I am quickly reaching my limit for intrigues today.”

“Promise… you’ll hear me out? Promise you won’t do anything reckless? No matter what you see?”

“The Prince of Demons does not make promises with creatures hiding in the dark.” Orcus insisted, “You’ll have to do better than that if you want my attention.”

“Promise… and you won’t regret it. I'm asking you to take a chance with me. Because I know we can help each other.”

Orcus growled.

He did not like being tested by insignificant pests, but he was otherwise at a loss for ideas here. His bird was gone, the mages were gone, the town was ghostly, and as he understood it, adventurers weren't welcome either. It was a thread to pull on, if nothing else.

“Very well.” He entertained the ridiculous notion, “Where would you have me go?”

Moments later, a series of low humming noises resounded from the Mages’ Guild door, prompting Orcus to spin around as his party members leapt away suddenly.

“Now look what you did!?” Chauncey screamed.

“Hey, I didn't do that. You touched something, Chancery.”

“It's Chauncey–Chauncey, you oversized donkey!”

"Who you calling oversized, little man? I'm normal sized. You're the tiny one.”

“I'm so dead. I'm so dead! I'll never get my gold medallion now—”

“Oriax, shut that man up.” Orcus barked his orders, and Oriax had the little fellow in a grapple long before he could begin to protest, Oriax's right hand just about halfway in his mouth.

As the humming quieted, as well as the sound of Chauncey's muffled crying, all three of them watched in confusion from the base of the small steps as the door to the guild outpost creaked open.

There, lurking in the shadow of the threshold to the door, stood a young woman roughly the same height as the merchant, if not a bit shorter. She was a lithe figure, dressed in brown garments and leathers. her skin was pale, and long strands of silvery-white hair dangled out from within her black-feathered hood and cloak, partial bangs of which concealed some of her yellowed eyes. Though she wore a piece of dark fabric over her face as a mask, Orcus could clearly tell that she bore similar horned antennae to that of the Ishu warriors from earlier that day. They were smaller by comparison, but unmistakable to the Prince of Demons.

“Well…?” She stammered awkwardly, gripping the side of the door as if ready to pounce behind it for cover on a moment’s notice. She winced, saying in a flustered tone, “Don’t just stand there. Hurry up! Someone’s going to see us.”

“Is that—?” Chauncey gargled, unable to finish his sentence due to several large fingers being halfway down his mouth.

“Snake lady.” Oriax pointed out the obvious.

“...Shit.” Orcus grumbled.

The Prince of Demons’ first quest was not one he'd asked for, and yet it was growing more complicated by the hour!