Dungeons & Demons I

“Aelwinel?”

I was so screwed, less than three full days after being transported to a new world, a magical world. A world where I could let my newfound blood-lust go free without any worries, and I'd already managed to accidentally kill two members of royalty.

“Aelwinel D'Illiandor?”

Even after I'd denied making the Regicide Title public, it wouldn't exactly be hard to figure out I'd given the Emperor the poisoned wine. Plus, with my easily gained [Inspect] Skill, I didn't doubt there was some way to [Inspect] people too, even if it turned out to be a separate Skill. Such a thing would give away my now 'hidden' Title with ease.

“Empress!”

Though, I was fairly sure the MoC had winked at me as the Emperor had been gurgling his last, blood infused breath. Perhaps I can foist the blame on to him? An option that could prove easy, if I was right about him being involved in the first place. Though, if he was, why would he be winking at me about it. Or more specifically the long-dead Duchess.

“Empress Aelwinel A'Esille A'Meilleri D'Illiandor!?”

The decomposing body of whom could prove to be extremely troubling if it was discovered before my escape. On the assumption that I could escape, that was. Also, with [Status Quo]'s fifty percent chance of activation, coupled with my Luck... what could be considered worse than being poisoned? Unless Luck didn't have quite the same effect that I- Oh wait, that's me they're shouting at, isn't it? Oops.

“Emp-”

“What?” I snapped, opening my eyes and cutting off an agitated Verrick. His right-hand twitching, looking like he had barely refrained from slapping me out of my stupor, only my assumed, exalted, position stopping such an action.

Instead, he just sighed and looked away, relaxing his hand, “I apologise Empress, but I have to ask this. Did you receive a Title just now?”

“I...”

He looks... more concerned than accusatory...

Unable to form the right words, I just nod instead. The affirmative action causing him to groan in grief, his battle-weary features sagging as his almost unending fighting of the previous two days, ended in failure. Incapable of protecting his charge, his Emperor to the end. His frenzied defence proving inadequate at the very last hurdle.

Letting out a string of expletives that would make even a seasoned sailor blush, he turned back to the blood-soaked body of the young orc, whose death would no doubt throw the Palace, the Empire and more importantly, me into reams of yet more chaos.

“We can cancel the call for a healer,” he said, once he'd finished his tirade, leaving me in the uncomfortable position of wanting to clean my ears out, but being unable to access them. “If the Empress received a Title, then the System has determined he is beyond our capacity to heal. Likely meaning his was caused by a rare and dangerous type of soul-destroying poison...”

“Soul's Rest!” I blurted out, remembering the Affliction [Status Quo] had removed from me.

“Aye, that'd certainly fit the symptoms, Empress.” Other than a slight glance in my direction he didn't seem surprised by my outburst, in fact, it only seemed to cement his conclusions.

I guess someone of such a high and mighty title of 'Duchess' would need to have some knowledge of so dangerous a poison...

“What I want to know,” Fenrick said, picking up the glass I'd dropped on the hardwood floor when I collapsed earlier. “Is how you survived when we saw you had consumed the same laced wine as the Emperor.”

… Shit... I can't very well explain away my survival by way of a Trait that the actual Aelwinel would not have had-

“The Garb,” Geral interrupted my downwardly spiralling thoughts. “We know it blocks Magic Effects, clearly it protected her from the poison, a poison she clearly felt as she was sprawled over the desk when the Emperor himself fell from his chair.”

Ahh.. Thank you, thank you, you swimming-suit shaped Ceremonial Garb! You've saved me once- Wait? How am I still covered while wearing a swimming costume? It makes no fucking sense!

I hate this Garb!

Ahem! Ignoring my somehow still disguised form, as everyone else was, I returned my thoughts back to the conversation around me. Which had moved on to other topics.

I allowed myself to sink into the background as they discussed what to do with the Emperor's body. And whether it was worth attempting to bring him back, even if they all but knew it would be unsuccessful.

Deciding that they should, of course, do such a thing, if only so as to claim they'd tried to do everything within their considerable powers to save their monarch, they moved on to discuss the funeral and my subsequent coronation. I felt it somewhat odd that they were so calmly making decisions after such an occurrence, but a muttering of “not another coronation this year” from Geral made me realise that perhaps, seeing as I'd already heard mention of his father's death a few years ago, five? Ten? I'd forgotten the exact number, but they must have been used to being regents in his childhood.

The Emperor's death had just brought things back to the status quo.

I had no intentions of staying around for any coronations or funerals if I could help it. [24:59:31]. Just over an hour had passed since I'd last checked, I could have sworn it had been longer, a lot had happened in that time.

I had a little over a day to find my way out of here, less perhaps, if the dead body of the Duchess was found. If it hadn't been already, a report of my falsehood could be meandering its way to us now. Halted only by the chaos of the invasion.

My dilemma was the same as ever.

How do I get away from the watchful eyes of all these guards?

Now that order was being restored, it was imperative that I slipped away while I still could. The time of my discovery ticking down every second. And it could be much sooner than the Garb's timer running out.

“I'm afraid I can't let you in.” One of the guards said, blocking the passage of a white-robed woman who was trying to gain entry to the room.

“That's the Emperor's personal healer you imbecile, let her in!” Belloff admonished, diplomatic as ever.

The woman who entered with a glare at the MoC was a middle-aged woman, sun-bleached white hair tied back into a no-nonsense ponytail, cool blue eyes framed by a smattering of crows feet. A thin mouth, with bloodless lips, was surrounded by laughter lines, off-setting the otherwise severe effect, a long aquiline nose completed her handsome features. Her upper body was wide, with a 'motherly' bust. My eyes, however, were drawn to her lower body. Long legs with knobbly knees were left completely uncovered. Wrapped instead by her roan fur, the ends clip-clopping as she made her way across the hardwood floor.

She was, of course, a centaur, and I didn't bother hiding my stares. I doubted anyone could tell where I was looking, other than in a general sense.

Then again, maybe not. Verrick and Freylder had been able to tell when I'd been staring at them after all.

She leant forward to check the Emperor's dead body, legs folding up underneath her as she lowered her bulk to the ground.

After a cursory examination, and a flash of golden Magically created light she 'hmmed' and reached around to a saddlebag on her back, retrieving a large gem that glowed white with a soft inner light. She placed the gem, which was about the size of my fist, in the centre of his sternum. She then waited impatiently for the others to remove his breastplate and chain mail. The removal of which caused a deluge of blood to gush out from where the armour was holding it, the blood pooled around the chest of her horse-body, she ignored this, obviously used to dealing with such things as a healer.

After the gem was placed and then carefully adjusted to fit some grand design only she was aware of, she placed her hands on his body. One hand on his forehead and the other on his navel, equidistant from the gem in the middle.

She began chanting softly in a language that I couldn't understand. The glow from the gem, directed by her chanting and her Magic began spreading throughout the body it rested upon, suffusing the Emperor in white.

A few minutes passed, all of us watching in rapt attention.

The light built as it drained from the large gem, the body glowing with a harsher and harsher radiance, the light now spread far beyond the confines of the body, covering most of the centaur as she kept up her soft chanting. As the light grew brighter and brighter I felt myself wanting to turn away to preserve my more sensitive eyesight, but I was unable to.

The light drew me in, calling out in its glory, demanding my focus. The light an almost physical presence in the room, a high pitched hum emanating from it as the chanting grew to a crescendo before it abruptly stopped. The humming turned to screeching as the magic powering it was cut off, the light letting out a final flash, lighting up the room in strange relief, no longer contained by the body it seemed to shine in all directions at once. From all directions. No shadows in sight, everything appeared flat, my brain unable to perceive depth in the all-encompassing light.

Thankfully it lasted for but a moment, and once I'd finished blinking tears from my eyes I could see again, though my vision was spotted, not quite recovered fully.

Everyone stood around the Emperor's body in anticipation, we'd all but decided he was irretrievable but after that display, we were all waiting on baited breath, as if his return was all but inevitable. How could it not be after that? I broke the silence.

“So... did it work?” My question caused the centaur healer to let out a bray of annoyance, a noise I figured was her version of a snort.

“Of course not meat-for-brains, does it look like he's prancing around the room, full of life? Eh? Does it?”

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“Uhh.. no?” Where did all that vehemence come from? It was obvious we'd all been wondering the same thing.

“Exactly! Muscle-brained dimwit...” She trailed off, muttering obscenities about 'my' general idiocy and overdeveloped muscles. Clearly, she had had many dealings with Duchess Aelwinel in the past.

It also helped affirm to me why no one had been surprised by my actions over the last few days. I felt a small measure of kinship with the elven woman, perhaps we could've been friends if she hadn't accidentally killed herself.

Then again, considering she'd gone straight for the spear at my presence, perhaps if she hadn't killed herself I would've been speared instead.

And maybe I shouldn't be questioning her choice to take a spear to the bathing room. I was a very clear example of why that would be a good idea.

With a last “These pure soul-stones aren't exactly simple to come by y'know? Next time make sure they can be brought back before calling for me...” Obviously ignoring the fact that it'd been the Emperor they'd been trying to save, and the fact that she hadn't bothered complaining going in - when she must've already known the probable outcome.

Some assistants in similar robes corralled the rest of injured away as she left.

They took the dead with them, friend and foe alike, along with the Emperor's body. To 'prepare' it for the upcoming funeral.

An hour passed as the remaining High Dukes and Belloff discussed the events of the previous few days and planned out the next few.

It was decided that Captain Carras probably hadn't been the traitor, it had been obvious he was under some form of mind-control. Something that, apparently, wouldn't have worked through the Palace walls. Meaning that it'd only happened once they had entered the Palace, and also that they had to continue the search for the traitor.

I was fairly sure he was in the room with us, but I decided to keep that information to myself for now. I needed to confirm it before I decided what to do with it. If it were true I could either blackmail Belloff into letting me escape. Or turn him in, in exchange for freedom. I was unsure what the best course of action was, so I waited and listened as they talked.

In terms of funerals, they'd decided to have three days of them, starting tomorrow. The first would be for the Guards who'd died defending the Palace, and all the servants and so on who'd been caught up in the fighting. The second day would be for all those Nobles who'd met their ends on the bleachers, with emphasis on any who'd tried to fight back. The last day would be the Emperor's funeral. Followed immediately by 'my' Coronation.

They'd decided to Coronate 'me' as soon as possible as all the remaining Nobles in the Empire were already in the Palace, and because the Empire needed to be stabilised before anything got out of hand.

During the discussion, I discovered that Noble Titles and Monarch positions were decided through the System and the Emperor actually had a fair amount of control of the running of the Empire through it. This included uplifting lower Nobles into higher positions or confirming an heir's ascent to their parents' Title. And with thousands of them dead, there was a lot to sift through.

Once the impromptu meeting came to a close, Fenrick, Freylder, Geral and Leris left us to go complete their tasks. Sarian had collapsed into another coma once the fighting had ended earlier and was taken away by the healers previously. That left only Verrick, Belloff and I.

They wanted to discuss a separate topic with me. Surprisingly I didn't feel all that worried about it.

“So,” I said after the two had let the silence build. Then stopped, unsure what to say. Thankfully after another awkward minute, Verrick picked up my thought, before the silence began it's rise again.

“So,” then he paused. Clearing his throat, “We need to discuss the problem of the Watchtower.”

That sounded like a good idea, perhaps we could start with what the fuck the Watchtower was? Of course, I couldn't actually ask that, after hiding my identity so well up until this point, revealing my ignorance would be a sure way to give the game away. Thankfully Belloff picked up the fraying conversation.

“What is there to discuss?” He sneered, “we have to claim it. Today. There is no other option, and we three are the only choices at this moment. Every other option is dead or will soon be otherwise occupied.”

“I know, but I would prefer to wait until the Empress is no longer so restricted.” He let out a weary sigh and rubbed his bleary eyes. “I could do with a rest myself, I'm not exactly functioning at full capacity.”

Belloff snorted with derision. “We have less than 24 hours to claim the Watchtower, you can sleep when you're done.”

“24 hours?” I asked, confused. “Why not just wait until we're all properly prepared?” I wasn't sure if attempting to 'claim' anything would be a good idea, especially with my Luck. It might make taking my leave of this place a tad difficult if I was chained down by something. Another part of me, buried under my fear, beneath my monkey-brain screaming at me continually to flee, considered that 'claiming' whatever this Watchtower was would give me another point of blackmail.

Belloff turned his sneer on me, “Yes Empress,” he said, managing to make the title sound like an insult. “We must claim it in the next 24 hours unless you'd prefer to start generating continent-wide quests again. With our luck, it'd be some scrawny beastkin street-rat that managed to complete it. The Watchtower seems to prefer those type of 'Zero-to-Hero' stories.”

“Uh... right, of course. Wouldn't want that.” I stammered, causing Belloff to add a glare to his sneer, a strange combination that made his angular face look fish-like.

“How long until the Garb is removed, Empress?” Verrick asked when it became apparent we weren't going to end our glaring match anytime soon. As fond as Belloff seemed of his glaring matches, he obviously had forgotten that the veil of my Garb – thankfully – obscured my eyes. He wouldn't know if I'd blinked, or simply looked away. I hadn't of course, that'd be cheating, and while I was okay with cheating in general, I wanted to put this snob – and possible traitor – in his place.

“Errm,” I said after Belloff finally broke his stare. [23:32:11]. “Just over 23 and a half hours to go. I checked the time shortly after the Emperor... passed away... I had around 25 hours at that point.”

“See, we can't wait.” Verrick ignored Belloff, waving away his statement like you would wave away an annoying fly, one that always seemed to get away when you thought it'd already been squashed under your hand.

“In that case, we have around 12 hours before we should enter the Watchtower. That should give us enough time to get a bit of rest, and to prepare ourselves properly for the dungeon-dive. As I'm going to be the only one really fighting out of the three of us, I refuse to enter without getting at least a bit of rest, it'd be irresponsible of me to do otherwise.”

“Why only three?” I asked, confused. Before we'd disbanded the Party earlier there'd been ten of us in it without any problems.

“Ah yes,” Verrick answered amiably, “unlike a normal dungeon-dive, the trials to claim the Watchtower's wardenship are different. Only the three who will become the Warden, the Guardian and the Gatekeeper are allowed entry, and they are faced with a customised set of trials. Five floors we must beat together, then a personalised trial for each of the aspirants.”

“Wonderful, and I have to challenge that place wearing this?!” I said, unable to keep the unhappiness from my voice as I gestured to the milkshake shaped Garb that was currently wearing me.

“It's not ideal,” Belloff said, unsuccessfully trying to quell my outrage. “But at least you know how to defend yourself, and the Garb is very good at defending you from physical, mental and Magical attacks.”

“That doesn't mean I can fight effectively in it!” I retorted, standing and pointing my pompom at him. Fuck's sake Garb, can't you help me out at least a little?!

“Calm yourselves, guys,” Verrick interjected. “This isn't getting us anywhere, Let's all take a break and go and get some sleep. We'll meet up in the Watchtower's armoury. Empress, I'll be sure to find out if we have any items that are known to work with the Garb.”

“Thank you, Verrick. Belloff, you may escort me to my rooms.” He tried to beg off, saying he had too much work to do to escort me to my rooms, surely my guards could do that job just fine without his presence.

I didn't let him squirrel his way out, I needed to confront him about his duplicity. Besides, his objections seemed mostly for show. I figured he wanted to talk to me in private too.

We parted ways at the first intersection of hallways, each of us surrounded by Watchtower Guards.

'My' rooms were located close to the safe room we had been in. Close for this oversized Palace anyway.

After a short stroll down yet more beautifully decorated hallways, decorations that I no longer had the wherewithal to take notice of, - I'd become another member of the jaded masses - we arrived.

Upon entry, Beloff marched straight into the dressing rooms. I paused briefly to retake possession of the spear, which had fallen at some point since it was placed against the wall, and it lay on the floor. I almost tripped over on the Garb and impaled myself on it. Wouldn't that have been ironic?

Once composed, and hoping that the MoC hadn't entered the bathing room, I followed him through the heavy double doors, closing them behind me.

He hadn't entered the bathing room, instead, he was standing in front of the massive mirror, readjusting his robes, making sure they fit correctly, even picking off a few bits of lint.

“That was almost a disaster.” He said, finally turning to face me. Almost? “Though I suppose the poison was the best solution, it made certain his soul was irretrievable.”

It seemed I wouldn't need to pussyfoot around the topic then, his first words were in confirmation of my suspicions. How to use this to my advantage though?

“Are you not concerned that someone may be listening in?” I asked, stalling to get my thoughts in order and to ensure our 'discussion' was not overheard. I hadn't yet decided if he would be walking out of this room.

“Hah. You think I would confess my sins if I was not certain I couldn't be overheard?” The sneer was back.

He gestured to the rings on his left hand, there were three bands, linked by a golden chain on his middle three fingers. “I have activated an obfuscation enchantment, no one currently in the Palace will be able to break through it. Not in time anyway. Oh, and if you're wondering, one of these will create a shield around me if I'm attacked, even you would struggle to break through it if you had full use of your capabilities.”

I dismissed plan A at this, it seemed I'd have to work with him, not one of the High Dukes. He also didn't seem all that surprised that I would be thinking to kill him. His alliance with the Duchess was obviously one of circumstance, not a true partnership. I could work with that.

“And if you were having second thoughts, I'd like to remind you that not only is it too late, but you were the one who approached me on this, you wanted a way out of the duties of being Empress, so you could go back to gallivanting around the country, exploring dungeons.” He shook his head like he couldn't understand her reasoning. I understood though, I didn't want to be a ruler. It sounded like way too much tedious work, I'd much prefer to study how Magic worked in this world and to go kill things in dungeons. Maybe outside them too...

The more information I learnt about the Noblewoman, who was currently hidden poorly behind a white draping in the room beyond, the more I was sure we could've been friends. If only she hadn't killed herself...

“No need to worry, you despicable little toad, I have no intentions of reneging on our little deal. I can do nothing about the Watchtower though unless you have anything in mind?” Yes, let's see if I can make him useful. No need to give anything away I didn't have to, and if he tried to go into the room next door I'd just have to see if he was telling the truth about that shield ring of his.

He coughed in embarrassment. “Yes, well. Not everything quite went as planned, even if we have so far managed to evade being outed as the Emperor's assassins. I had hoped that at least a few of the High Dukes would have died in the fighting. No matter though, this may be a better outcome anyway. We will follow one of my contingency plans.”

“We will, will we? And I have no say in this?” I said, acting the part of a high-class bitch. I was getting good at that.

“Hear me out before you dismiss my ideas.” He answered, seemingly unaffected by my demeanour. I could spot the sweat on his brow, however, and he was fiddling with his linked defensive rings. Perhaps he wasn't so certain about his survival if I attacked as he let on. Of course, I had nowhere near the capabilities of the woman I was impersonating. I couldn't let him realise that, however.

“We will follow Verrick's plan to claim the Watchtower. With you taking Wardenship, it will make stepping down easier, you will have more influence and can simply deny access to the upper levels if anyone disagrees. Once we have suffered through the first two funerals over the coming days, you will rescind your claim to the Throne during the Emperor's funeral. As part of the eulogy, you will be giving. Coupled with your monopoly on the Watchtower's upper floors, publicly announcing it will make it impossible for them to deny you.”

A good plan, probably a back-up he'd always had, or even what he'd preferred. It didn't matter, I agreed with his idea. Not immediately of course, as that would be suspicious, so we settled in, to hash out the details.

*