NOVEL FROG 69 - First Victory
“Oi! Get around it!” An impassioned voice brought life to the ruins, “Don’t allow it to escape! We need to wait for reinforcement!”
Soldiers - some barely men - responded to the order with silent obedience. A ring of steel was soon formed around the object of their aggression, but not one man dared to step forward despite their overwhelming advantage in numbers. They had witnessed what that creature was capable of. The strength of its blows and the wicked speed with which it wielded the oversized greatsword slung over its shoulder.
“By the Wyrm’s tail… that’s an undead?” One of them voiced his disbelief. A boy who was yet to grow a single hair on his chin, “But it fights with no master… and its movements…”
“Don’t let fear get a hold of you!” Another yelled, “It doesn’t matter how powerful it is! If we attack all at once, it’ll fall just as easily as any man! Just look at what happened to its servants!”
-Is what he said. But in truth, that fellow’s hands were trembling with just as much apprehension.
“Gods… is that Helmach?” His eyes widened, “I thought he was invincible… how in the world did those necromancers ever manage to kill him?”
The thrall surrounded on all sides by Tonberg’s soldiers awaited their move patiently. Indeed, not a shred of the ferocity or mindlessness expected of an undead creature was on display. All that remained of the former Acolyte’s mind was the sharpness of his reflexes. He was no longer dominated by fear or madness, but an unflinching calm.
“Helmach or no, we can’t allow this… this thing to reach the other districts!” Lifting his spear, another soldier failed to meet the Briarknight’s gaze, “On my go! Strike true and without mercy!”
Seconds later, he launched forward, accompanied in passing by his comrades. A chorus of frenzied screams telegraphed their singular attack as more than a dozen spears were shoved through the Briarknight’s body. Spurts of diseased, discoloured blood stained the cobblestone road, but the thrall did not so much as twitch in reaction.
“Did we get it!?” A soldier allowed himself the freedom of a hopeful smile, glaring into the Briarknight’s, eyes expecting to see cold lifelessness in return. A cold snap ran down the length of his spinal cord as the thrall’s head spun to meet his gaze with a sickening crunch. The un-light reflecting in its rotting eyes was a sight the soldier would carry into the afterlife.
The next second was a blur of viscera and death. With a single movement, the Briarknight planted a foot into the ground before carving a horizontal path through the encirclement of soldiers with its greatsword, separating bellies from torsos in a display of incontestable strength. Not one man had the time to scream before his life was taken, leaving nothing but the sound of blood dripping from a blade afterwards.
Secret Quest "Flurry" Complete!
Description - Witness a single thrall killing 10 enemies in less than 10 seconds
Reward - 1,500xp
Level Up!
You are now level [27]
HP + 0 MP + 55
MIND + 1
A hollow clapping emerged from the husk of a ruined home, and out of its shadow was revealed a young lady with blinding-white hair accompanied by a group of hooded individuals.
“Delightful.” Lieze smiled, “To think we would ever be in possession of such a formidable thrall. With this kind of power in hand, we can enforce our control over the eastern district and begin to gain some real ground in this troublesome war.”
She examined the nameplate hovering above the thrall’s head.
Briarknight
Level 84 Undead
HP: 7,095 / 8,140 MP: 0 / 0
BODY - 73 / MIND - 0 / SOUL - 11
“Barely a scratch after fighting through an entire battalion of soldiers.” She continued, “-A shame about the Gravewalkers Marché and his fellows spent so much time improving, but sacrifices must be made.”
“We sent 2 cultists to reinforce it with Flesh Elementals and the Rot Behemoth, didn’t we?” From behind, Drayya voiced a single concern, “Where are they?”
“At the gates, with any luck.” Lieze replied, “Their only objective was to create a diversion while the Briarknight and its Gravewalkers breached the city perimeter. We should head there now - it is ours, after all.”
“Lieze!”
A familiar voice caught the attention of everyone on the street. Marché and a number of his cultists had finally caught up with the main group following their retreat at the square, thankfully with none of them unaccounted for.
“Marché…” Lieze muttered, “All is well, I presume?”
“Well - you tell me.” Panting, he came to a stop, “Evidently, my concerns with this mission are too corrupted by the sensitivities of emotion to be taken seriously.”
“I don’t appreciate your intolerable, barely-disguised tone. If you have a problem with the peculiarities of my leadership, then say so with conviction rather than throwing a tantrum like some child.” She snapped, “Alma is dead. Do not mourn her, and do not allow her death to affect your duties. My father would have the skin flayed from your bones and your blood harvested for alchemical droughts if you ever displayed such arrogance in his presence.”
That was the end of it. Marché was forced to bottle his frustration - and poorly. It was Lieze’s responsibility to ensure that every member of the cult was subservient to her demands. She would need to keep a close eye on every follower besides Drayya, considering they were most likely loyal to Marché before they were loyal to her.
“...The gate.” Sighing, she diverted her gaze towards the eastern walls, “We need to assess damages and plan out our next steps. If the portcullis is damaged, we may need to replace it. Marché.”
“What is it?” He replied.
“Have a few of your cultists raise whatever corpses they can find from the battle, then send them towards the mass grave further into the district. We need to start recouping our losses as quickly as possible.” She instructed.
“It might be better if I went along with them.” He scanned the hooded followers with a concerned look, “Not to accuse anyone in particular, but some of them would probably lose their heads if they weren’t screwed on.”
“Very well. It should speed up the process, too.” Lieze replied, “Drayya and I will see to the gate. Be sure to retreat if any guards arrive.”
There was something deeply liberating about no longer having to conceal her true identity. Lieze finally wielded enough power and influence to openly wander the street of Tonberg with thralls in tow. Luck willing, she would live to see many more opportunities to increase her strength.
With all the effort of swatting flies, the Briarknight snapped the hilts of the spears which had been lodged in its body, flesh slowly regenerating over the wounds as it silently accompanied Lieze and Drayya towards the eastern gate. Blood ran like rainwater into rusted grates as they passed by countless bisected and mutilated bodies. Their armour had been sliced through as if it never existed.
New Quest Received!
"Domination" - Fully occupy Tonberg's eastern district
Reward - 3,200xp
Lieze dismissed the notification with a thought. She had grown so accustomed to the scale’s power - and so expectant of its challenges - that she was having trouble imagining a life without it.
Twin followers of Marché awaited their arrival at the enormous gatehouse. The roiling bodies of Flesh Elementals created trails of blood on the cobblestone as they wandered freely into the city perimeter. The Rot Behemoth, as ever, was comically slow, but its presence provided some much-needed security to the area.
“I take it the attack was a success?” Lieze asked.
One of the cultists nodded, “Indeed, my lady.”
The title invoked some deep-seated loathing embedded in her brain. She understood why - it was the undeserving moniker forced upon her by Sokalar, spoken by members of the Order with shameless jealousy. Marché had most likely instructed them on its usage. For the sake of validating her authority, she resisted an urge to reject the title.
“I see. Good work.” She kept a straight face, “It seems you had to destroy the portcullis to enter. It’s a tool we could have put to good use, but I didn’t expect you to simply wander into the city unobstructed. Is there any hope of having it repaired within the next few days?”
“An undertaking like that would require some specialised equipment… a forge, for one thing, as well as some metalworking knowledge.” The cultist reported, “At the most, we could repurpose some of the district’s destroyed architecture into barricades.”
“For now, proceed to the mass grave with Marché and the others. We have the benefit of stealth for as long as it takes for Alistair to notice we’ve taken the east, but that won’t last for long. Once he comes around, I want an army raised that puts our current force to shame.”
“As you wish. If you’ll excuse us…” With a bow, the cultist and his comrade departed, leaving only Lieze, Drayya and the Briarknight.
“Shall we legitimise our ownership of this district?” Drayya asked, smiling.
“What do you mean?” Lieze replied, “It’s as legitimate as it needs to be, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Well, there’s a flag over the gatehouse, and it isn’t flying our colours.” She pointed towards the sky, where a length of gold-black fabric fluttered in the wind, “What do you say we take it down?”
“Is there a point? Our time would be better spent- ah!”
Without another word, Drayya reached forward to drag Lieze by her wrist towards the imposing walls, leading her into the arch of the gatehouse and up through the archer’s perch. An unwelcome nostalgia overtook Lieze as she spotted the portcullis winch on the way up - a reminder of the helpless girl she used to be before becoming a Scion of the Gildwyrm.
The unobstructed breeze of the battlements made the rain feel like needles against her skin. Behind her, the sheer dilapidation of the eastern district was laid bare. In the distance, where the city’s last bastions of resistance dwelled, Alistair was surely plotting against her. Meanwhile, Drayya fiddled with the flagpole, grinning in delight when the emblem lowered itself to eye level. As she unhooked the flag, the fabric crumpled in her grasp.
Quest "Domination" Complete!
Reward - 3,200xp
“Here’s one thing Master Sokalar was never able to accomplish.” She said, “With this, the eastern district belongs to the Order. Don’t you think we should have a flag of our own.”
“Flags. Badges. Crowns - all of them are worthless. Trophies made to inspire those who can only be compelled to action by material goods, rather than ideals.” Lieze replied, “We do not need a flag. The absence of one is poetic enough.”
“Come now, Lieze…” With a sigh, Drayya allowed the flag to collapse in a heap on the wall, “Your face is going to get stuck like that if you don’t force yourself to smile. This is a great victory - the greatest we’ve ever had, as a matter of fact.”
“Perhaps. But we’ve only scraped the surface.” She replied, “Yet greater victories await, but only if we redouble our efforts. There is much to consider in the way of obstacles - considerations which will no doubt be complicated by the inevitable return of my father.”
At the mention of Sokalar’s name, Drayya turned towards the expanse of countryside visible over the battlements. The often-verdant Sovereign countryside was ill that day - cursed with rain and mud.
“Yes… I suppose that won’t be long now, will it?” She muttered, “I wonder… are you going to be a good daughter and hand over our accomplishments to Master Sokalar? He’ll reward us greatly for our efforts.”
“I’m sure he will. And perhaps he’ll offer me a single word of praise for overcoming my so-called ‘genetic weakness’ if I drop to my knees and plead with him.” Lieze replied, “Things returning to the way they were… I’m not certain if I can stomach that.”
“Developed a taste for power, have you?” Drayya smirked, “Well… time will tell, I suppose.”