Chapter 9: Ch. 9 Sempre Sordino

Canderous in tow, I found Hagash in the middle of hoisting up a wall. Farmers were trying to retrieve someone who was pinned. Marina attempted to treat the injured to varying amounts of success. Both of them still had mistrust leveled at them. On one hand, for good reason. The other, how ungrateful these people were for charity no matter the source.

That’s normal Humans for ya. Same in this World as the one I hailed from.

Scurrying from the ruins, a loud crash announced my elite Troll friend letting go. Wiping his hands, his body looked much better. Charred flesh was recovering well but scarring, magic green regeneration pulsing healthily, still missing half his other tusk.

“Hagash, some news,” I beckoned to him. Long strides cleared the distance easily at his full height. “Canderous, this is Hagash. He was part of the defense as much as I was.”

Despite facing my new Human vassal, one of my six eyes saw Hagash tighten his fists. Whether or not he had was up in the air. He could have distracted Kajabash long enough for me to swoop in and take care of the other raiders. He could have thrown a monkey wrench into the whole plan. I will never know. I will move past it and roll with the punches.

“I would appreciate if you two coordinated, worked together.” Pointing between them, I gestured around us. “We need to barricade the wall and close the gates. Rest. Plan.”

The two men squared off against each other. Man was less than half the size of Troll, the latter hunching to eye level to close some of the gap. Tense moment as their eyes appraised each other. Brutish Hagash extended his hand. Much like I was when we met in his cave, Canderous was surprised that the Troll was the first to offer the gesture of trust.

Shaking, they nodded at each other.

“Wonderful. I must take care of something. Please behave.”

Breaking away, the two went off to do their thing while I clacked across the cobblestone battlefield toward the winter-breathed girl who had never heard her name.

A few bodies were covered with tattered blankets, her efforts focused on halting the number added. Her magic was curious, almost mechanical in the way that things could be finely tuned. Like calibrations. Or a busy nightclub DJ mixing a board where glyphs like snowflakes tried drifting away from her. Almost like ornery MAP panels but they wouldn’t sit still.

Still, she handled the strange method of casting with practice. Despite being fatigued after helping Hagash, she trudged onwards unbidden by me.

Even if it was a ruse on her part to get into my good graces, it was working. The Yellow nobody was manic in her desire to be noticed as someone of character. That’s what I said before, right?

Looking at the man she was trying her best to concoct a treatment, my second nature caused me to sigh at the futility. Forester suggested the resource quality was improving slightly.

“He’s dead already,” I said softly, causing her to freeze. Shuddering with an exhale of misty breeze, she turned with tears in her eyes. “Yet you still tried. I am wondering, are you still borrowing the power taken from that fellow scattered in front of the barn?”

Her cheeks turned a wonderful passionfruit as she made sure no one else was around, concentration broken. Rubbing at her cheeks, clearing dirt and tears, she stood to face me.

[I-It’s m-my-my nature, ev-ev-ever since I be-bec-c-c-ame of age!] the snow caster said. Well, more like opened her mouth and let out a sharp wheeze of air that didn’t match the indignation scrawled across her face. [Not my fault.]

Then she realized my quiet smile as she worked things out. ‘Oh no, I’ve spoken candidly to the person I wanted to join, woe is me and my chances dashed!’ or something like it.

[A curse. Like my voice,] she murmured, lips parted and another puff of mist.

“Come here.”

Fearful, her eyes traveled up and down my features. Violet music wrapped around my human half, in and out of my sweater which I now realized had some clear cuts through it and not merely soaked in blood drying the color of rust with gold flecks. Mandarin orange treble clefs, pauses, wholes and breves and other things swirled across my ravaged Arachne carapace. I could imagine to the untrained it was just more magic to fear.

Regardless, come to me she did.

Leaning forward, a hand on top of my blade limb joint, I extended the other.

“Take my hand.” The potential handmaiden hesitated, like I might not give it back. She might be desperate to be at my side but all her bravado was wearing off. “Please.”

Hiring manager interview two was similar in the apprehension. Completely different reasons, little more skittish. Thankfully, Lady Arienna was skilled in the art of winning people over and making friends. She even made friends with a Troll. What was a mysterious ?Human? girl to me?

Tentatively our fingers touched.

“Project,” I whispered, trying my best to not move my lips. Damned verbal component. I wish I could just think the spells and have them happen.

+Target is Marina Avastasia, level twelve ?Human?. Status: Adventurer stance, silenced, ability blocked. Secret notes: target is disguised as Human, target is silenced due to racial trait, target ability blocked due to Adventurer stance.+

Touch must amplify the ability. Mortified, the word of power brought no recognition to the girl’s face.

“Marina Avastasia,” I murmured.

Confusion. Excitement. Sorrow. Understanding. Tears.

Joy.

She practically jumped into my arms. Like a child, really, seeking a parent’s comfort. If I were in a position to cradle her, say on my side or back, Marina might have tried to wriggle her way into my embrace. Unfortunately, she’d have to make do with briefly hugging what would have been my belly on my old Earthling body, before sliding down my front and wrapping arms as much as she could around the wide ash gray segments of chitin connecting me to my Arachne half.

[M-my name. My-y-y, my n-name! It-it’s-sss my name!] Marina cried out, no longer just a Yellow dot on my agenda.

Still, trouble. She didn’t have any words. Only opening her mouth to let out air and whatever she tried writing with her face.

“Do you know you’re not Human?”

Shock.

Quivering lip.

Goddammit, give with one hand, take with the other.

[Wh-w-w-what?] she replied with a noise like icicles shattering on a frozen floor.

Looking around, there were a few prying eyes looking our way as the Arachne and the all-intents-and-purposes mute ?Human? conversed in some whimsical language unlike their own. For their credit, Hagash and Canderous kept people busy stacking rocks and timbers for temporary fortifications. No telling what might be coming our way next or how soon.

If she was a resource to invest in, I needed to find out what was behind that mask.

“You demanded me to accept your service earlier. One final condition stands between you and your wish,” I ominously relayed. Guiding her away but still holding her hand, my head inclined toward the barn which the piecemeal Troll she had fucked to death lay in his pile. “There is a…”

Shit. Roleplay term, roleplay term, what should I say? It wasn’t an actual debuff and I was influencing this girl with meta MAP knowledge she wouldn’t normally know. Technically, she had a clean bill of health and I was interfering with her story! Fuck!

“Curse. I would like to examine it first.”

Not knowing any better, she began leading the way with stilted steps. Wordlessly opening the barn, aside from a single cow it seemed to be more of a storage area for crops and tools. Her boots skidded through magically frozen Troll bits with the effort. Odd how it still hadn’t melted.

Learning your name and confirming you weren’t normal was a lot to drop on a person.

Looking at my health and mana, passive recovery was boosted slightly in what was now my territory. Still, hoped that I had enough to go through with whatever might decide to pop out at us.

“I wish no harm upon you, but if your desire is to serve at my side, I need to evaluate your condition.”

Sympathetic, caring, genuine. I couldn’t imagine what her life had been up to this point, blank slate soul or not. Unable to talk except with frozen breath, able to kill lovers with her intimacy. Only thing letting her live among Humans was command over magic. Maybe a traveling healer.

Nodding solemnly, she stood with arms wide and closed eyes.

Chewing on my lip, my Arachne eyes detected nothing overtly concerning. Project didn’t reveal anything except the secret notes with touch. Speaking with her was with the strange stuttering chimes she made, but not like she herself was frozen or suffering.

Idea.

“Folk in the Water, rise.”

Cupping my palms, the watery ocean blue Captain and his fashionable tricorne appeared, long mariner’s coat flapping in an invisible typhoon. Marina flinched at whatever language I used to summon him.

“I’m in a conundrum, sir Captain. My acquaintance here has an affinity for ice,” I explained to him. Nodding along, he twirled his moustache and looked between us. “Naturally, being a phase of water, I wondered if you might have an expert opinion on the matter as someone of Water.”

My mana gradually went down, leaking like a metal bucket with a thumb tack hole in the bottom. It took energy to call and keep him here. Hopefully I could stay above whatever threshold I needed to pull a spell off if necessary.

“I would have thought cleansing her of a sickness or curse might work. The problem is, it looks like she’s actually hiding her true nature,” I sighed. Captain shrugged, agreeing as we puzzled this out. A small wave rippled under him, soaking up my palms of purple mana in the surf. “It’s like a disguise she doesn’t know she’s wearing. To protect herself, looking Human as she moves around them.”

I noticed Marina had squinted through a half-closed lid, hoping that I wouldn’t notice while engrossed in conversation with a tiny blue spirit. Arachne eyes were wonderful even if I accidentally stabbed myself when doing traditional Earthling stress relief massages.

“Any ideas?”

Eyes closed, tapping his foot on my hand and pulling out a tobacco pipe, he was truly a seafaring philosopher. Waiting expectantly, I stifled my concerned evaluation of my slowly burning mana supply.

Then he got an idea. Tapping smoke leaf into the pipe, he lit it to the fanfare of soap bubbles.

He walked up my forearm and pointed at my chest.

No, my neck. The warband symbol hanging around it. Four-pointed star resembling my colors.

Then gestured towards Marina.

+Would you like to add a member, Marina Avastasia, level twelve ?Human?, to your warband? Y/N+

Huh. Well. There wasn’t really any other course of action.

“Alright. Oh, do you happen to know a certain Earth spirit with an eye gl-?”

He made a distasteful face, finger-in-mouth, immediately.

“Right. I take it she’s not well-liked?”

Nod. He saluted and I saw the small amount of mana I had used come back.

“Why, thank you. Is it because I’m helping someone close to home, so to speak?” I chortled.

Smiling, he winked out of existence. Leaving me and my new hire alone.

+Would you like to add a member, Marina Avastasia, level twelve ?Human?, to your warband? Y/N+

What the hell.

Boop.

Marina gasped as the purple and orange-rimmed star appeared over her chest. She looked down then up at me.

+Added: Marina Avastasia, level twelve ?Huomaokdj? cleric.+

“Eh?”

+Warning: conditions met for Marina Avastasia to unlock Wanderer stance.+

“The fuck does that m-,“ I managed as we both shared a confused look.

And then she exploded into a blizzard.

I threw my hands in front of my face to protect my human eyes. Snowblind like I got dropped into the middle of an arctic storm, all I could see was a wonderful symphony of magical force with my lilac gem orbs across my face. Ivory and sunlight twisting around the feminine figure in front of me, who had dropped to her knees in the flurry.

Magic turned from whatever threads were combined into a deep rose, darker, more pronounced than what she had used to kill that other tough Troll currently standing guard in pieces outside.

+Warning, warband member Marina Avastasia has increased in challenge rating to level 12 An!?g?el//2 ?718hag!!ui0 Cleric.+

More than a couple things happened.

If I wasn’t before, I was made very well aware of the fact my ‘armor’ durability was low. The cold fog seeped in through every hole in my hoodie and kissed my naked flesh. And yet, it was more like the nice feeling of frostbite. That part before losing feeling and after being out in a blizzard a little too long. I even started feeling it at the tips of my arachnid legs and along my big abdomen.

Then I saw my third bar gradually rise in its pink. Like when I rubbed myself with fresh Bladeweaver silk. Little concerning.

And then when I looked up, my spinnerets began making a new coil of silk in response.

What I saw was Marina. She had sank nearly down to her knees, arms wrapped around herself. Plus something else like a cloak, broken shards of glass bound together with streamers of mist. Her peasant lady’s garb had been exploded outwards into frozen strips.

She was crying again. God, does she tear up at everything?

Wait…

Where did that thought come from? Even on my worst days, I’d never put someone down or look down on their sorrow. It wasn’t weakness. It was a tough day even without the Trolls deciding to attack this place. Food for thought for later. Not processing pain the same way as old Ari the wage slave was one thing, this was something else entirely.

Games don’t rewrite who you are in real life. They don’t have control over you once you step away from them, not unless you let them.

“Hey. Marina?” I asked softly, approaching with careful tick-click-clacks on the newly frozen straw and dirt. Looking around, the whole inside of the barn was painted white. “Are you alright?”

[D-do-don’t-!] she whispered hurriedly, making me pause. [I-I-I feel like when I k-ki-kill…]

Glancing at my health and mana, that as of yet unnamed third bar kept filling. It seemed to be tapering off at about a quarter full and getting… iced over? Good grief, where was a fucking manual when I needed one.

“Tell me what you’re feeling then, Frosty,” I playfully jabbed.

[Warm. B-b-ba-back hu-uuurrr-hurts,] she replied, eyes looking up from behind her forearms nestled on her knees.

“Looks like your clothes are a goner but I can fix that. I’m a Clothier and, uh, well, part spider.” She was cute. Vulnerable. There was something else about this situation that nibbled the back of my mind, but for whatever reason I wanted to do what I could to comfort her. More than I already would. “An Arachne. Bladeweaver, to be exact.”

[N-n-nnn-ot a Drider?] Marina breathed out a moment later, relaxing, a new plume of cold air emanating from her.

“No. If those are still around today, no wonder the apprehension,” I sighed, shaking my head. Marina was still quite naked. Silk wasn’t done yet. I needed to see all of her – for measurements only!

[They are m-mean. Y-yo-you’re scary, but not me-mean. You he-helped e-e-v-even wh-when you c-could have left.]

“Why, thank you. You’re the first pleasant interaction I’ve had since waking up.” It was the truth. Strange. Why did I find myself getting closer, legs spreading, bending at my old waist to get closer to her? “Could you stand for me? Don’t be shy, it’s just the two of us. I need to get your proportions correct for something to cover you.”

[O-okay.]

Marina stood carefully, shakily, newborn foal testing out her footing for the first time. Might as well have been, she was in her birthday suit. Clear white skin, unblemished, those teal eyes of hers ever so slightly brighter. Hair seemed a clearer platinum and gold. She wasn’t lean like a warrior but neither portly as a homemaker, that lovely balance between of an attractive bachelorette that probably turned heads of soldiers and married men alike. Even women. I was having a hard time keeping professional and I don’t even noodle over girls usually.

Her wings unfurled, flaring outwards.

The span was small, barely beyond her arms if outstretched. Clear glass stood in place as feathers, bound together by wispy fog that sprouted from her shoulder blades. Freezing air visibly rolled off of the growths with the pleasant aroma of crisp evergreen thistles and another pink blossoming flower I couldn’t place.

You are reading story Arienna’s Cadence at novel35.com

I wanted to pull her closer, find where that scent came from, maybe taste her lips. Just for a moment. I didn’t care if that little pink bar, probably the H-game threshold for Lust or something, was now fully frosted over. It was too warm to think that this was some kind of attack or debuff. She was still in my warband.

Wasn’t she?

Yeah, yes, yes she was. My purple star and its orange glaze was over her heart, just like my other member. Right next to her chest that made me feel self-conscious about my own only-slightly-edited-from-Earthling one.

[M-my Lady? Wh-what are you d-doing?]

Reality flicked me on the figurative nose. Marina had awkwardly covered her modesty with both hands and shifted her weight from side to side. The icy not-wings bent, trying to cover her ineffectually on account of their transparent texture. She was freaked out by them as much as not having any clothes.

Clearing my throat, I tried playing off getting to her level as looking underneath my bulk to see how much silk had been produced. Thankfully it was unaffected by the inclement weather. Odd enough, a second spool was finishing up and being wrapped around one of my back legs, then a third was being prepped.

“Just… checking… on the silk. Uhm, was there something specific you would like? I can make dresses or something like what I or my Troll friend wear. Well,” I hurriedly covered my ass, maintaining eye contact, “would wear if not destroyed. It’s durable enough to turn a blade.”

[Which-which-whi-whichever you prefer, my L-Lady. I am y-you-yours to command,] the words from her mouth said. Her eyes were saying something different entirely, looking between me and my clothes. Deeper into my eyes.

“You’re afraid that you could harm me,” I guessed, legs tapping on the dirt, straining to spread and reduce some of the height difference between us. God, my body was so cumbersome sometimes! At least after this last stretch there was only a few feet between the top of her head and mine. “From this heritage when you came of age?”

Marina nodded vigorously.

“Do you see this?”

For once, she didn’t flinch back from me as I placed a finger over her heart. Good enough excuse to press into her skin too. My small talon of a nail pressed into her soft flesh, half expecting her to be made of snow.

Oh, but I was trying to draw attention to the star that I could see! I never asked Hagash if he saw the same warband badge when I invited him. He was entirely opposed to having hands get laid on him more than our little spat already did.

[A st-star?] she answered with a brief chime from her lips.

“Indeed.”

I’d actually been wondering about my own badge, the giant necklace that sat weightlessly around my neck. Color me surprised when my fingers caught on its ethereal chain, drew it from under my hoodie, let it hang loose across my collar.

“No friend who bears this mark can harm another, least of all me. An ancient magic even Hagash knows of,” I lectured, settling back into a mentor role. I was still mildly frostbite-warm and bothered, fighting to maintain my cool. The Lust bar – that’s what it had to be, I’d only felt this kind of flutter while engaged in extracurricular erotica research – hovered on quarter-full and completely iced over.

[L-like how Adv-v-ven-venturrrers gr-group together? I th-think, a p-pa-party?]

Eh? She knew about a party system? But then that would mean the World common knowledge would know about the Raid Boss background feature about making big groups. Kinda undercut the mystique behind it, although if Hagash as a Monstrous person had some inkling of a different lore entry, then maybe it wasn’t a total downer.

Plus, if it was just a party like traditional MMORPGs, then maybe I was a rare breed after all. A party had four or five heads butting against each other for loot and fame at a time. Raids were made up of multiple parties.

Something about owning domains and that Sovereign stance sounded a bit bigger than a humble little spider lady and her modest lair with a few lackeys.

“You could say that,” I nodded noncommittally. “So…”

I paused. This was something I’d normally never consider. Then again, there’s some activities you should try at least once in your life once. Right?

“Why not give me your winter’s kiss and see what happens?”

[N-no! I wo-wo-won’t risk it!] She recoiled from me, though a glimmer in her eye betrayed curiosity.

Something would not be affecting me if it wasn’t beneficial. The quarter-full part of the Lust, for lack of a better word, bar was locked down under a coat of frost while the rest was translucent with that glassy kind of ice as opposed to UI transparency.

“You obviously are not harming me. In fact, I feel rather nice. Refreshed even,” I tutted, shaking my head. “If anything, a small kiss might end up soothing the rest of my wounds. You have yet to attend to them.”

Third coil of silk done, fourth on its way. Second nature said I’d be tapped for a while after this. Clothier whispered various kinds of dresses or shirts and pants. Sweats, shorts, hoodies, vests, belts, sashes, shear, ponchos – but it was so limited! I needed her. Needed her to stick around. Needed others.

Blinking, I scarcely realized I was leaning face to face to a nervous Marina with a dumb smile on my ugly mug. She was all of a sudden like a highschooler after health class that was scared into thinking cooties were serious and handholding gets you pregnant. Lady had literally just fucked a Troll to death, easy, what was wrong about one little-

Our lips met. Despite her frigid aura and the chill in the air, she was wonderfully warm. Eyes closed, even my Arachne ones were a little loopy. Her rose magic grew little vines of gold and flowed through our embrace, her hand as she steadied my shoulder.

I did feel better. Felt really weird. This wasn’t a kiss between friends, a peck on a cheek, no, this was a bit more intimate. I lost track of my MAP for a few seconds, losing myself in the stolen moment.

Lust bar was rising out of that locked down quarter. So was my health, followed slowly by my mana.

If only I could scoop her up into my arms and explore a little m-

Marina stepped back abruptly. She didn’t turn completely away from me, but that was the extent of my senses. Was I stunned?

On a clinical level I was curious to see where this went. On a personal level, uhm, well, this was not that bad. Might try again later. Perhaps with someone not potentially in my office cabinet, so to speak.

Well, at least not until we figured out who was taking advantage of who. If we were okay with it. Move past it.

[My lady?] a tiny bell rung.

The Lust bar started to decrease. Quickly. Clamped down to the quarter-mark that was covered by her aura buff.

“Arienna. Formalities later,” I sighed, doing my best to not lose myself to that scent she was putting out. “Focus on remembering you are Marina Avastasia. It would be silly for a handmaiden of mine to forget her own name.”

That brightened her countenance. A pure smile with no spite lurking beneath it, no fear of consequences, no shame in her condition. Only joy.

“However, you’re a bit of a distraction in your present state. As beautiful as those wings are, I think your presence may attract the wrong idea in this way,” I suggested. Looking over her once more, I couldn’t decide on what to do with her clothing situation. Oh! Definitely slits for those wings! “Do you feel a… It’s… Hmm.”

[We-well, ma-ma-may I have clo-clot-clothes l-like yours? B-but with a cloak,] Marina requested, looking away as if guilty to impose.

“Of course. It will only be a moment,” I said, shuffling one spool of Bladeweaver silk in front of me.

I was glad to have a little bit of busywork to give me time to tackle how to explain what I understood as the red-yellow-green-blue pinwheel. If she could switch, that’d be wonderful. That meant I could too. Further ramifications, I’d best be on my guard for others who may have nefarious intentions for me and mine.

“Can you reach within yourself and see the image of you before?” My fingers directed needle, thread, scissors, creating a sleeved hooded tunic with slits for her wings to pop out if needed. Then a cloak, loose pants like most of the men all wore, a sash, dismissing all the info panels. “Like a dial between two forms, two colors.”

[Y-yes, exactly like that.]

“Turn the dial back. Fold your wings for now but know that you can soar with me,” I encouraged her, bundling the clothes in my arms. My little pink bar was increasing slowly. Fuck, forgot about the Bladeweaver resin.

She seemed sad about putting away her true self. Marina grit her teeth, closed her eyes, and breathed out. Golden threads of magic wove their way into the fabric of her wings, her frozen fog, some of the ice around us. Even the rime sheath around my Lust bar began melting away.

Inhaling, almost all trace of her Wanderer stance retreated within.

+Warning: warband member Marina Avastasia has reduced in challenge rating to Adventurer level 12 ?Human? Cleric.+

Moving behind, I slipped the hoodie over her. Guiding the arms into the sleeves, made sure her head popped out of the collar with her hair inside the drawn hood. Wrapping the cloak around her from behind as well, I leaned  down and hugged her to me, chin on her shoulder.

“I see why you were worried. Thank you for your concern,” I whispered words as quiet as I could. “I know you asked to serve me, but I must counter that.”

Stiffened, I didn’t pull her hood down nor turn her to face me.

“Help me to find others who suffer like you have. Swear to offer kindness to other wanderers of the World,” I urged her, stepping backwards and folding my arms over my own tattered rags. “Swear to honor my ideals.”

A prompt to repair my equipment popped up but I immediately told it to fuck off.

“Swear to remind me if I stray from them.”

Holding her new leggings, her misty breath shuddered. She was getting a grip on herself.

[I…]

The ?Human? girl with a strange double life faced me with a fire in her beautiful near-turquoise eyes.

[I, Marina Avastasia, swear to s-serve you, Lady Arienn-na.]

My heart fluttered. Was this what it was like to be a teacher getting new talent in her class, getting them out of their shell?

“Excellent. Marina, first of the handmaidens to House Kestalen. Directly under me, Lady Kestalennetti,” I announced to no one in particular.

A Handmaiden, a Knight, a Troll, and a Dire Rat. Strange bedfellows, but hey, it was coming along.

“Let’s go see what the boys are up to. Oh, and the clothes may feel a little odd at first. Don’t pay too much attention to it, it’ll wash out.”

///

Hagash and Canderous had kept everyone busy, efficiently reattaching the gates and putting up token patches in the walls in record time. If anyone had noticed what went on in the barn between Marina and I, they must have been an excellent peeping tom. There wasn’t much for me to do aside from menacingly tap my fingers on my Bladeweaver namesake on accident.

I wasn’t here to be a terror. Literally just wanted to be a good samaritan, help, be on my way. Tamlin going off to basically SWAT my position to the authorities while I was still a blind idiot muddling around in the dark changed that. Now I owned the damn place and didn’t know what to do.

“Lady Arienna.”

My thoughts must’ve been far out because I totally did not realize Canderous standing in front of me. Did he call out my name multiple times? I hope not.

“Perhaps m’lady would oblige a selfish request?” he asked. The guy was conventionally handsome. I wonder what his hair ruffled around would look like.

“Go on,” I replied, trying to snap out of the aftereffects of whatever the hell Marina had done to me.

“The late Milgrant estate is vacant. Though it may not be to your proportions, mayhaps you could rest within?” Canderous boldly said. He pointed at one of the houses next to the wall Thunderstrike had knocked down. A big hole was in its side and covered by an equally big tarp. Bastard already made it serviceable probably.

“Well, considering you seem to have prepared the way for me, it would be rude to not grant it,” I sighed, stifling the yawn at the thought of some rest.

Earthling Ari had pulled a really late night before reporting for her shift. Arachne Arienna just got up a few hours ago with…

Huh.

Resurrection Sickness. The bane of people who died too often in some games, making huge penalties to stats and abilities. Plus, I still hadn’t leveled up at all, even after killing those enemy Trolls! Speaking of, where were their b-

“Hagash cited some savage’s ritual about-,” Canderous began, noting my expression wander. He stopped only when I squinted at the small slight on my friend’s bearing. ”-rather, a tradition of honoring the dead of his kind. He is working to haul the two corpses still intact back to an Ironwood tree, then stated he would wait for you there.”

“The two of you conspired against me, haven’t you?”

“Even if there was such a plan, it would only be for your benefit,” Canderous relayed in that official tone of his. “Honor also would dictate I not implicate my fellow.”

I scoffed. The audacity! He even cracked a faint smirk.

Shaking my head, I trotted myself down over to Tamlin’s old house and entered through the improvised entrance. God, this was going to be an architectural nightmare if I had to account for creatures of all shapes and sizes, least of all me. No wonder most games didn’t allow for Monstrous races, let alone big ones like an Arachne or Centaur. It required a whole new set of guidelines for accessibility! Think of the zoning and building codes and shit!

The inside was rather plain. Thankfully it was more like a studio apartment with stairs going up to a loft, which looked to be holding an office of some sort. Made a mental note of getting Marina to squeeze up there and gather intel. Could she even read?

I was of a heavy persuasion not able to climb up walls so nestling in a corner with my legs tucked away snug was going to have to do. So many plans, so many issues.

Kajabash the Troll Shaman on one side, threatening us from the forest. Lord Balthazar from the Human town would no doubt try investigating why his vassal up and died, maybe even had some form of early warning system for the Land Claim flipping allegiances. How was I going to manage all of this?

Eventually my mind went into overdrive and finally gave out. Body, spirit, soul went into that weird flatline where sleep started gripping at you, pulling you into that sweet embrace. Even if I was reclined backwards on spider butt, covered in blankets that smelled of farm and dust, it was somehow the most comfortable bed I’d slept in before.

Maybe it was the game part of the World letting me take that proverbial short rest I was subconsciously craving.

I swear I heard a clock ticking.

Tick. Tock. Tick.

Bit out of place for a medieval high fantasy setting.

Tock. Tick.

Though not necessarily a bad thing. I love magic-punk universes!

Tock.

Yet that still didn’t explain why I could still think.

Ti-…

I should be asleep.

-ck…

A nap.

To-…

My eyelids were closed and I saw darkness yet still heard it.

-oo-…

-oo-…

+I hope that you have enjoyed the experience thus far. Oh, and congratulations on ranking up!+

The text ran across my shuttered eyes and I heard that staticky voice again. I felt, knew I could respond like this was a private message reply.

“Newbie, hey, could you stick around for a heart-to-heart. I have… just a few questions. Oh, and some player feedback. A little.”

I paused.

“Okay, maybe a lot.”

+By all means.+

I like being a beta tester.

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