Nick Smith

Adventurer Level: 7

Human – American

Once the darkness settled over me, I felt as if I was being yanked. Like a parent pulling their child out of the way of a car. Before I could consider the irony of that thought, I blinked and was suddenly in a completely different clearing.

My senses were assaulted by the difference. Smells, sights, temperature, everything had altered enough to be noticeable. My stomach decided to become an acrobat, and I had to fight to keep it from spewing its contents.

"Well, that looked unpleasant," someone said.

Nash, Yulk, and I glanced at each other and turned to look at the person who spoke. Mumuldobran sat on a log that was next to a stump, smoking what looked like a hand rolled cigarette. It gave us an uncharacteristically merry wave.

Nash and Yulk regarded the King of Arch-Fae for a moment, then simultaneously turned and vomited. I fought even harder to keep my food within me. My orc brothers breathed heavy sighs of relief once they were finished.

"It was unpleasant, yes," Yulk said.

"So we were... What? Teleported?" Nash asked.

"Felt more like being pulled through time and space," I answered through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, that's about right," Mumuldobran said. "When wylder do it, we get rid of our bodies first. Flesh doesn't like being pulled through the fair-realm."

"The what?" Yulk asked with a sudden interest.

Feeling my knees about to give out, I decided to have a seat on the ground to recover.

"The fair-realm. It's where we reside when we're not in physical form," Mumuldobran took a hefty drag from his cigarette. "Sort of a giant void where beings of energy, nothingness, and somethingness hang out. Has neither space nor time, so it's a pretty convenient way to travel. If you've got the stomach for it."

"Which we don't, apparently," Nash sighed. "Nick, you'll feel better if you just throw up."

"I'd rather die," I growled. "Had spicy food for breakfast. Gonna hurt coming up."

Nash and Yulk chuckled. Mumuldobran, on the other hand, giggled. All three of our heads snapped to look at him.

"What?" it asked.

"You seem to be in much higher spirits than you were when we first met," Yulk said.

"What's in that smoke?" Nash asked with suspicion in his voice.

Mumuldobran raised an eyebrow and eyed the cigarette for a moment. It flicked the ash from the end and took another deep drag.

"It's smoke-seed," it said as it inhaled. A somewhat rare fibrous bean-like plant that contains various stimulants. Namely, caffeine."

"That sounds kind of like coffee," I added, still struggling with my stomach.

"Not quite," the arch-fae laughed. "The various stimulants in smoke-seed combine to form a pretty hard punch. A punch that's fatal to most mortals, in fact."

"Then why's it called smoke-seed?" Nash asked.

"That's what WE call it," Mumuldobran giggled again. "No idea what YOU call it. Though, some of your villages grow it for us. Trade and such. Plants that contain high levels of sugar and caffeine are our primary import."

"Why?"

"Because we thrive off of these chemicals. Sugar rejuvenates us, like a warm meal and bath do for you. Caffeine has a profound mental impact that allows us to focus in ways that we normally aren't able to accomplish."

"Very interesting," Yulk nodded. "What do you exchange with the Unified Chiefdoms?"

"Lumber and magical trinkets, mostly."

"We're getting sidetracked. Why are we here?" I interrupted a little impatiently.

"How should I know?" Mumuldobran asked, bewildered. "Who sent you through the fair-realm?"

"Veern."

"Veern? Arch-fae, about this high?" it gestured above its head.

"Yeah, that's the one."

"That's... Weird. Just a second."

Mumuldobran's eyes rolled into the back of its head and it slouched, nearly dropping its cigarette. The rest of us shared a worried glance. I took a few deep breaths and rose to my feet just as Mumuldobran recovered, looking far more sober than it had a moment ago.

"I see," it muttered.

"Care to share?" I asked.

"Not really, but I suppose I must. Have a look at the stump."

The three of us approached the stump that Mumuldobran was sat next to. As we got closer, we realized that the wood had been carved to look like a forest. Bugs sat patiently on top of the small carvings, as if marking points of interest.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"We are being attacked," Mumuldobran puffed at his cigarette. "Vampires."

"Vampires? Why?"

"I'm unsure, but the screams coming from the fair-realm indicate something sinister. What I do know is that they're well-organized and using captured wylder as shields."

"What's a wylder?" I asked.

"Me. And the other fair-folk. Essentially, anyone who is an intricate part of the cycle of wylds."

"Ah," I said, barely understanding the explanation.

"Anyway, the use of our comrades as shields is a rather smart move, as it prevents us from using the arch-fae to their fullest potential."

"Why's that?" Nash asked.

"Well, our strength isn't exactly subtle," Mumuldobran chuckled. "By using our powers to kill the brood, we'd be unable to avoid killing the wylder captives."

"You don't want to kill your friends," I said empathically.

"What? No. They'd just come back, wouldn't be a problem. The issue is that killing them is considered a sin by the higher ones. Meaning that we would be punished for it. If we kill enough of them and the enemy manages to kill US... Well, we might end up on their side of this fight."

"Ah, yeah, that would be bad," I nodded. "So... why are we here?"

"The higher ones pulled a bit of trickery, as they do. You see, I requested help from a certain group of wylder which Veern is a part of. This group of wylder, however, owes my group nothing and is not beholden to our calls for aid. If they were to aid us, we would be in their debt," Mumuldobran explained. "I am fine with this, the other kings are fine with this, but the higher ones dislike us trading favors with each other. One wrong word leads to chaos and such. So, they took it upon themselves to interfere and send you instead, since we are beholden to each other."

"Yeah, but, Veern owed the higher ones a favor. Why didn't they just use that to get them to help you?"

"Mortals trading favors owed by others is quite a bewildering concept, if I'm honest. When you owe someone a favor, they are the one that you owe that favor to. No self-respecting wylder would ever get caught in the web of mental gyrations required to justify having to do something for someone you are not beholden to because you're beholden to someone else. That's just silly," it giggled. "Plus, I don't think the higher ones wanted them to help us to begin with. They definitely wanted YOU here, though."

"Any idea as to why?"

"Nope."

Swearing under my breath, I looked at the trunk-map. What am I supposed to do, go and fight an army of vampires? I could definitely take down a few of them, but judging by the number of red bugs on the stump that would just be a drop water in the ocean.

"If you can't use the arch-fae, what are you doing instead?" Yulk asked.

"Using the lesser wylder. Don't tell them I called them that," Mumuldobran giggled again. "But there's a problem there, too. The enemy is grabbing our soldiers and using iron to capture them. The various forms of fae, fairies, and such are putting up a fight but..."

"It's not enough," I said flatly. "What sort of formations are you using?"

"Formations?"

The three of us glanced at each other and then stared at Mumuldobran in disbelief.

"Like, battle formations? How are your troops sorted?"

"Sorted? We're just fighting. So is the enemy, for the most part."

"Like a mob? What..." I trailed off, thinking. "So it's basically just a large brawl between two groups."

"Don't be dismissive. This is a proper war, not some riot," Mumuldobran crossed its arms.

"What weapons are your soldiers using?"

"Magic, for the most part. The bone and blood fae sometimes use swords and spears."

"This is a mess," Nash muttered. "Uh... No offense."

"Some taken," Mumuldobran's eyes narrowed.

"If you want to turn things around, you're going to need to be more organized," I explained. "If you have groups that use similar weapons, then it's easier to know where to put them to counter the enemy. Since the enemy is trying to kidnap your soldiers, some safeguards should be taken, too."

"Safeguards?"

"Yeah, like... Well... Riot shields..."

"I JUST told you this isn't a riot."

"I know, I know. But if the enemy isn't coordinated, then they're basically rioting, right? And the way to counter a riot is with phalanx that uses big shields. It helps control the crowd and keeps your people from getting pulled away from the safety of your group. If your fae use this tactic, it will protect them as they attack the mob of vampires. Plus, unlike a riot, you don't have to be concerned with whether the mob lives or not."

"Hmm... You can use large spears behind such a shield wall," Yulk said. "Stick the vampires and it will be much easier to ignite them."

"And then you won't have to rely on the arch-fae," Nash added with a nod.

"Hmm..." Mumuldobran rubbed its chin.

While the King of Arch-Fae thought to itself, I thought about how ridiculous it was that I was teaching riot tactics to a mythical being. I'm not even an expert in the craft, I've just seen a few on TV and wrote a paper on it for social studies.

"How will they see to aim their spears and spells?" the King of Arch-Fae asked.

"Clear shields would be best. Like, made of plastic..." I trailed off, realizing what I was suggesting.

Yulk and Nash gave me a confused look.

"Well, that's not an option," Mumuldobran laughed. "But... Yes, I think we can come pretty close to it. A bit of magical manipulation here, a bit of craftsmanship there..."

"You can get your forces in the rear equipped, then trade them with the ones at the front," I suggested. "Is there a way to help them get organized?"

"Yes, that won't be an issue. All wylder can move as one, when we have to. It's distasteful, though, but likely necessary to survive the current situation."

"Good. That will help make sure the fae don't get dragged away while..." I paused, reflecting on how invested in this I was getting. "While they take care of the enemy."

Before I came here, reading wasn't really my main past-time, and I didn't often choose something from the isekai genre. But I've read stories about people going back in time and teaching medieval people about modern weapons and tactics. It usually goes pretty well in the stories, but there was one story that stuck out to me.

The main character taught some people who were being victimized how to fight using modern tactics, and they eventually defeated the lord that was victimizing them. Then the king of the land issued a warrant for their arrest, because they'd broken the law by going against their lord. The MC then taught the people how to make guns, and they defended themselves against the king's soldiers.

But the author didn't write it as a power fantasy. The deaths depicted were gruesome, and there was even a scene where one of the king's men begged for his life. He said he had a family, a little girl, but the villagers shot him anyway. Then, at the end of the story, the MC had begun to become tyrannical. The villagers killed him with the guns he taught them how to make.

God, look at me. I'm eighteen years old, and I'm giving advice to someone on how to wage war while worrying about divulging too much information because of a story I read when I was sixteen. The absurdity of my new life wasn't anything new to me, and I thought I'd gotten used to weird things happening. But every now and then, this odd feeling of being out of place creeps up on me.

"You might even be able to recover some of the fae that have been stolen away," Yulk added.

"I hope so. This entire fight hasn't sat well with me," Mumuldobran said, extinguishing the cigarette. "I would especially like to know what the damned vampires are doing with my kin."

"They're turning them into vampires," a feminine voice from very close behind me said.

Whirling around as quickly as I could, I barely caught a glimpse of what looked like arms before my face was covered in warm, squishy flesh. I struggled, both to free myself and to breathe, but the arms were locked around my head like vice-grips. Briefly, I considered biting, but decided against it because it might think I'm flirting.

"SO good to see you again, Nick," Tits said. "I knew I smelled you!"

"MMMMPH!" I replied.

"Tits, let go of the human," Mumuldobran said with an exasperated sigh.

With a sad whine, Tits released my head. Gasping, I took a few steps back and eyed the arch-fae warily.

"Good. Thank you," Mumuldobran continued. "So... The fuck?"