CHAPTER ONE:: Powwow
( pow·wow )
1. 1.a North American Indian ceremony involving feasting, singing and dancing.
2. 2.a conference or meeting for discussion, especially among friends or colleagues
Boring, pointless, dull... the once sole ruler of his beloved Baharuth empire Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix, looked uninterestedly at the parchment before him. It was the weekly update of the goings on given to him by his secretary Loune Vermillion. Loune had developed a habit of sitting quietly while Jircniv read his reports, every now and again he would make a subtle movement, or silently clear his throat, should he catch The Emperor looking over in his direction his face would turn attentive with a slight hint of a smile that seemed to beg the questions of "Yes? Is there anything I can help with?" Jircniv was certain that if this man were a demihuman with a tail, it would be wagging underneath his well-made coat.
"No, it's nothing," Jircniv said with a polite nod, he then thought for a second as he set the well made but ultimately pointless document down on his desk.
"Loune, about His return..." Jircniv said, putting on a slightly serious frown.
"Yes, His Maj... Lord Ainz Ooal Gown has indeed returned to his seat of power after that, silly "death business" over in the Holy Kingdom."
"Indeed, did we ever find out the jester who penned such an elaborate joke?" Jircniv asked chuckling to himself at a Bards joke he'd overheard pretending to be a news crier "LOCAL NEWS IN THE HOLY KINGDOM, DEAD MAN BECOMES EVEN MORE DEAD!"
"It would seem some believe that it was The Sorcerer King himself trying his hand at comedy," Loune said with a smirk. Jircniv smiled and shook his head, he could only imagine how the news of The Sorcerer Kings death must have affected some of the more... gullible rulers and nobles of the surrounding areas.
Jircniv let out an exaggerated sigh and rotated his neck as well as his shoulders and waist, he had been sitting for far too long.
"Okay, that's it!" Time to abuse some of that Emperor's power he'd spilled so much blood to have.
"I'm done for now... I would like some personal time." Jircniv stated loud enough for his attending maid to also hear. After some exiting formalities the two were gone and Jircniv sat in his chair alone for the first time since he woke this morning next to that woman... he smiled on how he didn't consider her company... just a person who was around when it suited him, and it suited him more and more as of late.
After some brief contemplation, The Emperor of The Baharuth Empire stood up briskly and arched his back and winced as a rippled of pops and cracks ran down his pampered but still overworked back.
"Maybe I should start the nights drinking a little earlier than usual tonight..." He thought to himself. Just as he was making his way over to the magic box that would never turn warm no matter the surrounding temperature. Suddenly, a child's voice rang out in his head, he was startled at first but quickly understood that this was the magic spell [MESSAGE] that his former mentor Fluder Paradyne was always so adamant about not using.
"H...hello? Am I, um... is this Emperor Jircniv?" The somehow quite voice said, even though it was coming directly from his head. Jircniv instinctively frowned at the informal way this child had addressed him, but as he was positive this was someone from Nazarick, he simply cleared his throat (for which he did not know why) then, mentally, spoke back to the young voice.
"Yes, you are addressing His Majesty Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix." He Said in his mind, passively aggressively reminding this person, who he had a good idea who it was, how she really should have been addressing him.
"Mmm good." The innocent voice said before continuing on...
"Lord Ainz would...His Majesty The Sorcerer King Lord Ainz Ooal Gown..."Jircniv could hear the pride in the girl's voice as she sang out her lord's name in his head.
"...would like to know if you are free for a little... pa...poowow..." The voice turned from pride and admiration to that of one of uncertainty and nervousness.
"A poo wow?" Jircniv blinked at the odd term. This wasn't the first time someone from that damnable nation had casually used a term he was unfamiliar with.
"Mmm no... pow...powow... Oh! A POWWOW!" The girlish voice cried out as he, presumably remembered, the odd term he was quested in relaying.
" 'A kind of informal meeting of like-minded people for the purposes of prolonged joy and relationships with one another!' " Mare said in an almost robotic tone like he was quoting something or someone word for word.
"Hmm well if His Majesty Lord Ainz Ooal Gown requests my presence, then please tell him I will begin preparations to head to E-Rantel immediately."
"N...No good, Lord Ainz has asked that I use [GATE] to bring you to The Great Tomb of Nazarick... or well, as close as my spell will allow it."
"Oh, so I will be by myself then?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, the thought of walking into a literal land of the dead, unescorted did not entirely sit well with him. Not that any escort he could muster would make even a shred of difference... but it would put his mind at ease somewhat... just as a child clutches for dear life at his beloved blanket night after night in order fend off the monsters and demon in their head.
Jircniv frowned. But what if that monster was real, what if that monster was so unimaginably scary that just to invoke it's ire in the least would surely mean the death of you and your whole family... no matter how many "magical blankets" you have in your possession.
"Yes, Lord Ainz has specifically requested that I only use [GATE] for your benefit, anyone else attempting to enter through the gate will be an assumed threat to His Majesty and will be dealt with accordingly!" The timid nature from before was all but gone, despite the child's age, Jircniv knew for a fact that the dark elf could very easily kill him and any would-be assassin before they even knew what was upon them.
"Very well... I... I am ready whenever you are." He said to the voice in his head and to nobody in his room. Embarrassingly he was so nervous that he had been speaking everything out loud for, who knows how long. He had expected some kind of reply, or affirmation that she had received his permission but there was nothing, maybe the effects of the spell had worn off.
He could not give it too much thought though because soon after the 'nonreply' a large black hole opened up in the middle of his room. He stared at it nervously for a few seconds. The image of a dragon perched low like a dog with its maw stretched opened, inviting him to walk to his death flashed across his mind before the realization that keeping Ainz Ooal Gown waiting, could prove to be so much more dangerous than some stupid dragon! So he swallowed the collecting saliva in his mouth adjusted his clothes in a fast attempt to look at presentable as possible, steeled his slightly waning resolve and stepped into the black unknown.
He was not sure what to expect... the last time he had come to The Tomb of Nazarick, every expectation he had held was blown away like so many ashes in the breeze, that now he just resigned himself to accept whatever mind-blowing spectacle he was about to lay eyes on was.
But what he walked into was nothing of the sorts. He was standing in the center of a well lit and well-decorated room. On the walls were beautifully painted portraits of... of well the most horrible of monsters! There were around 40 in all that lined the walls of the room. There was a Demihuman with the head of a goat, wearing a strange black hat and mask with a foreboding cloak wrapped around his lean body. Another portrait housed the image of a proud knight, dressed head to toe in gleaming plate armor the likes Jircniv could only hope to hear of in fairy tales of legend, as was the amazing weapon at the knight's side. His shoulder was wrapped in a beautiful red cloak that waved majestically behind him. Jircniv cocked his head, with the exception of the dark raven black color, this knight was the striking image of the hero of E-Rantel he had heard so much about, the adamantite level adventure, Sir Momon. The last picture he was able to glance at appeared to just be a flesh colored pile of slime or goo... really compared to the previous two, this portrait was more gross than amazing.
His time of admiration of the pictures was cut short by the realization that there was someone standing right behind him. When he turned around he saw the owner of the disembodied voice he had just been conversing with. A young dark elf stood before him, it's eyes beamed with two different colors. Mare's golden hair was cut at his shoulders and he clutched a gnarled and ancient looking staff in front of him. The creature that stood before him he knew all too well, he had once condemned his whole court to doom as a simple message with the help of her bright spirited sister, oh yeah... and a fucking DRAGON!
"W...Welcome to The great Tomb of Nazarick!" The timid child yelped at a louder than normal volume. Despite the fact that this child... this meer little "girl" that had killed one of "The Four" during the 'message' completely by happenstance was showing signs of nervousness in his presence was very off-putting. How many ways could it kill him? How many skills were in this child's arsenal that could render this proud emperor into an all but quivering pile of useless goo. He pondered the unlikely event of what if...
"What if he were to jump on her with all his speed and might, bring her down and subdue her with one swift motion... what then?" Use the body of the unconscious "girl" as some kind bargaining chip? What would he ask for? What had Ainz Ooal Gown really even taken from him that he would risk life and limb to get back? The question was just as preposterous as his actions would be. How would he escape? The answer was obvious, he'd just simply turn into a giant dragon himself, and fly away laughing!
A smile. It was all that he let escape as he indulged in this... ludacris fantasy. The smile seemed to put the little elf at ease by a bit as it's clutch on the staff he held seemed too lax a bit.
"Th...Thank you for accepting His Majesty's request and coming all the way here to talk with his greatness." Mare said with a smile that could melt the heart of the ice dragons he'd heard about, flying above The Sorcerer Kings territories.
"Not at all, um, where is His Majesty?" Jircniv asked looking around the massive, but a mostly empty room. Expect for the fourth or so paintings and places where a kind of offering could be made to them. Jircniv though that was a bit odd but in this place... oddities ruled supreme.
"Lord Ainz will be meeting with you soon for the... 'powwow'" Mare said with that same radiant smile.
"Ah well... okay then," Jircniv said as he readied himself to wait as long as necessary.
"Um... Lord Ainz asked me to, um, well keep you company until he is ready to see you." The elf said in a, now, hushed voice.
"You mean to keep an eye ON me." He mentally noted.
Jircniv nodded to the child to show that he understood. The two of them stood in awkward silence for a while. Jircniv was just getting used to the sound of his thumping heart growing more relaxed when the dark elf spoke or at least tried to speak.
"Did you say something?" Jircniv said directly to the elf, it's timid and mild nature, while soothing was slightly annoying to him as he knew... He knew what lurked beneath the skin of this "child".
"Um well... It's uh, it's just that it seems like Lord Ainz enjoys your company." Mare said with a smile. His blue and green eyes looking up with genuine respect.
"Does he now? That is a surprise to hear!" He was not lying, but he did not believe "her" for a second.
"I mean, well... Our two nations are kinda like, friends now... Right?" He asked looking up at Jircniv.
"Yes, that's one way of putting it, our nations are 'friends'" He said smiling back to Mare, his instinct to treat Mare like a "little girl" kept creeping up into him before he remembered the twisted looks on the faces of the people this child had sentenced to death without a second thought.
"Well, it's just that well..." He twisted the staff in his hands back and forth... he was clearly genuinely nervous. This aroused suspicion and interest in what he had to say in Jircniv.
"When we first met... even though it was an order..." He said looking slightly distraught. Jircniv suppressed the urge to frown, he was bringing up a still bitter memory.
"I um... I kinda killed a lot of people at your castle..." The elf said with an almost sad look on its face.
"Yeah...I mean, Yes, yes you did." It was all he could do but state the facts.
"Well um... I just mean, if... if I killed anyone you liked, uh, any of your friends...I'm, I'm sorry Mister Jircniv" She said almost looking like he was fighting back tears.
"Mister?"
"Well, you were just following orders... Nothing to be done about it right?" He said in a little cold voice. The beaming smile returned to Mare's face as he looked up at him.
"Really? You don't hate me?" Mare asked in atone that invoked the urge to get down and hug the young dark elf. Jircniv wondered if this was some kind of magic as well, how... nice he wanted to treat Mare, despite knowing he was more dangerous than any dragon he'd heard tales about.
"No, I don't hold onto any sore feelings about... Anything that has happened between our two nations." He said as he reaffirmed his message with a warm smile directed back to the "girl". He nodded and smiled back then returned to his 'waiting position'.
"Oh..." He let slip, he actually hadn't meant to say anything, but he just realized what kind of position he was in... he had a chance to talk, one on one... with the most receptive member of Ainzes inner council. The Elf looked up at him with a curious look.
"Uh... hey, um..."
"Mare Bello Fiore... you may call me Mare," He said with a voice as sweet as candy.
"Right, um...Mare, you are aware that My Empire still has, uh slaves right?" He looked at him then away, then back to him. Mare shrugged, seemingly disinterested with what The Emperor had just said.
"More to the point, we have elf slaves..." He waited for a response but he looked just as bored with what was said.
"Is that... does that rub you the wrong way at all?" He asked, he was generally curious, if this dark elf and her sister hated him for keeping elves slaves in his nation, he would do well to try to win them over, if nothing else, for just a way to keep Ainz pleased. The idea of betrayal was so far removed from his mind, this was genuine curiosity he was attempting to alleviate.
"No... After all, I have some elf slaves as well." Mare said so matter of factly it was a little chilly.
"WHA...What? R...Really?" He could not believe what he just heard. Mare looked up in the air and counted off on his slender fingers.
"Yes, three of them, Lord Ainz gave me the three elf slaves that were brought to us by those filthy rats that tried to dirty our home. Jircniv could hear the tone of revolt and disgust in Mare's voice. An all too familiar shiver ran down his spine. He shrugged again and said proudly.
"Not that I need them, I can do everything by myself that my sister can!" Mare said as he puffed out his chest in exaggerated pride. Jircniv nodded and smiled but then took notice of the ring on the "girls" slender finger. It was an amazing, sparkling gold band with decorations and a large red ruby crowning the top of the ring. His eyes must have bulged a bit because Mare took notice of him examining his ring. He held his hand up to display its grandeur, he was clearly very proud of it.
"Lord Ainz gave this to me!" He declared with so much pride and joy he half expected him to start weeping tears of joy.
"Well, you must be a devoted..."
"Wife? Her ring is on the bride's finger... Is she married to Ainz? Is he into such things?" He thought to himself but then he mentally clicked his tongue at his own ignorance, this child was an elf, and Ainz was an ageless undead,
"She is probably much older than I am" He reminded himself, and age is probably a literal nonfactor where the undead are concerned... who can live forever.
"...follower." He chose a safer word. But he might not have needed too at how furiously Mare blushed, he even put both hands up to cover his bright red face.
"I can only hope he sees me as such!" He said now breaking back out into that sun lit smile. If Mare had the body of a more mature "woman", Jircniv would find himself smitten by Mare's delightful nature. But as it was, it was like talking to a child at the park who trusted you more than anything, despite never even meeting you, total innocence.
"Emperor Jircniv?" A voice called out from behind a large wooden door before she made herself visible by stepping out from behind it.
"Sorry for the wait, but Lord Ainz will see you now." The unfamiliar but stunning blonde maid said as she motioned for him to enter. Jircniv slowly walked to where he was directed, the elf child did not move from its post and looked at him with curious but somehow still uninterested eyes.
Upon entering the room he saw the vision of death sitting behind a desk, his dark socketded eyes were as deep as the void of death if not for the burning coals... coals that tell the damned what lay at the bottom of the void was pain and suffering. And this, this vision of death and malice, was waving at him. In his paranoia Jircniv thought that maybe the Sorcerer King was casting a mighty spell to take control of his mind, but what would be the point in that when Jircniv knew that this King of Death and Darkness knew every move Jircniv would make before he himself did... yes indeed, mind control would be a complete waste of a good spell at this point, no, The Grim Reaper of Souls, the one who, on Jircnivs behest, killed around 180,000 people with a single spell was just waving 'hello'.
Jircniv started the motion to drop to his knee out of respect but Ainz raised a hand to halt that motion and instead stretched out his palm to a vacant chair sitting opposite of himself at the desk.
"Have a seat." He said warmly, but in the coldest way possible. Jircniv did as instructed and sat down.
"Is there anything I can offer you?" He issued now toward the blonde maid who had let him in.
Jircniv initial response was to turn down his kind offer out of respect.
However...
"Ah yes... last time I was here, your maids brought me and my men a drink..." Jircniv said in a voice far too timid befitting that of an emperor, so he cleared his throat before continuing on and deepened his voice just a tad and spoke with more focus.
"...I don't know its name... But I've not been able to have any of my chefs... Or ANY chefs in my domain even come close to replicating it." With a smirk, Jircniv shook his head.
"A chance to drink that again... No person of culture would ever pass that up!" The Bloody Emperor boasted. Ainz clapped his hands out of recognition but also to get his maid to acknowledge and fulfill their guests' request.
"Honestly, I have much better things that I could offer you..." The skulled magic caster boasted.
"I don't doubt that in the least, but if you were to give me something even better than that, I doubt I'd ever want to leave your wonderful Kingdom!" This was mostly the truth.
"Indeed, so... On to why I have called you here." Ainz said as he placed both his skeletal hands on the table in front of him. Jircniv looked directly at The Sorcerer King to show he had his undivided attention.
"Rune crafted weapons," Ainz said bluntly. Jircniv blinked for a second as he processed what he had just heard.
"You've heard of them no doubt?" Ainz motioned through the air and pulled out a dagger from an unseen place, he turned the handle toward Jircniv in a friendly manner and waited for him to take the dagger. The Emperor reached out slowly to receive it, peered at it with interest then flipped it over a few times. Jircniv was by no means a weapon expert, yet he understood quality, and this was... this was quality personified, the level of skill and craftsmanship that must have gone into this blade made Jircniv remind himself of the wonders that The Sorcerer Kingdom could produce, quite literally, from thin air. He was so mesmerized by this exquisite blade he almost forgot to answer his gracious host's question.
"Yes... I mean, I have, but nothing I've heard of comes close to a work of this beauty and, I assume, power." He said still flipping the knife over and over as if this somehow would turn him into a weapon expert in his own right.
"Beauty, no doubt, but power? No, I'm afraid that the dagger is only a showpiece, the magical effect tied to this only lets you create an illusion of the last person that the dagger wounded.
"Oh? Is that it?" Jircniv spat in his head. Having an item like that... The potentials would be limitless the things a clever mind could do!
"Mmhmm, but nonetheless, I have been trying to revive this lost art...
"Why?" Jircniv said in his head, the question was too disrespectful to convey, so he waited for The Sorcerer King to finish his thought.
"... as a way to bring about cheaper enchanted weapons to the forefront so our new adventures have a real fighting chance out there!" Ainz exclaimed as he rose his arms into the air slightly before settling them back down onto the table, it was almost as some unseen force had purged some kind of emotion form this unfeeling God of Death, but Jircniv was sure he was just imagining things. Jircniv waited still in silence, waiting for anything else Ainz might have to say. But when The Death King sat there quietly and expectantly looking at him Jircniv decided it was his turn to talk.
"As expected, his majesty is always concerned for the welfare of his people!" The Emperor said as he, respectfully, slid the dagger back over to Ainz Ooal Gown. It was the nicest thing he could muster, bordering on the edge of brown nosing. Still, Ainz seemed a tad disappointed in Jircnivs answer.
"And your people!". The Overlord said nodding slightly.
"My people?" Jircniv blinked.
"YES! I want all my allies to take advantage of my new Rune crafting techniques!" Ainz said spreading out his arms.
"Okay fine but still... WHY?!" Jircniv once again asked himself.
"Surely... You've heard how effective they were recently in taking back lands belonging to the Holy Kingdom from the vile demon Jabaloth and his demihuman hoard?" Ainz said nodding the whole time.
"I uh, I heard that 'His Majesty' is the reason the Holy Kingdom was able to beat back the demon menace." Jircniv answered truthfully, after the "news" of Ainzes death it wasn't too long till the news said he had returned and that he had crushed the demon lord in single combat.
"To be sure, but there haven't been any tales of how the humans held out by themselves while I was on the mend from the first clash with Jabaloth?"
Jircniv shook his head slowly.
"Maybe like... How some archer using a rune crafted bow was able to strike fear into The Demon Lord?" Ainz asked hopefully leaning in a bit.
Jircniv once again repeated the same motion with his head.
"I am sorry, but I have heard no such tales you are describing." The Human Emperor said as he accepted the refreshing drink from the newly returned maid. With no hesitation, he brought the glass to his mouth and took his first drink. Oh, how wonderful this taste was, he missed it every time he drank some, inferior, sweet beverage. It was just as wonderful as before, and the rush of energy he felt made him think he could read Loune Vermillion's stupid boring reports all day long. Making a point to savor every gulp he was shocked to see that the glass he held was somehow empty, was this a trick? Some sort of prank played by The Sorcerer King? No...He had simply drank it all, so fast. Yes, being able to enjoy this drink a second time was more than enough reason to come her once again.
"So?" Ainz asked, snapping The Emperor out of his bliss and back to the room seated in front of death. Jircniv realized how he had let his mind slip and now The Sorcerer King was expecting an answer about something.
"Uh... I'm sorry..." Jircniv began.
"Rune weapons, I was enlightening you to their benefits," Ainz said clapping his hands, as an order for the maid to take the empty glass from his guest.
"Ah yes! You did say you were trying to, revive them or something like that? We had dealing with the dwarves way back when, and they would provide the elites of this country with the gear of that nature, though nothing even close as to the dagger you showed me!"
"Well it still needs some work, as all great things do, but I'm sure they will prove to be a boon to those adventures that wish to purchase or even lend them from me!" Ainz said nodding to himself.
"Lending out enchanted gear to improve survival and success rates of adventures...that's... that's actually a really good idea!" Jircniv said as the cogs and gears of his own mind spun, thinking about how to further elevate his Empires adventuring capabilities. The Empire had always taken a back seat to the level of power and talent that it's adventuring guild would churn out compared to its neighboring countries, something like a lending program like that could prove to be a solid investment in the future stock of all adventures! As expected! The being with a mind as sharp as any sword and deep as any lake casually mentions a way that could revitalize the adventuring mood within the empire.
"Yes... YES! That could really work! Lending out weapons to people who can't afford them, there would be fewer deaths, more people might give adventuring a try if they know they won't be walking out into the wild with poor weapons and armor!" Jircniv smiled, he would definitely give this some real thought when he had the luxury of time and planning.
"Yeah...But...But RUNE CRAFTING! That's good! A lost art, feared by demons!" Ainz clenched his fist in an exaggerated display of understanding.
"Eh? Oh...Oh yeah, rune crafting... without a doubt, there could be something there someday." Jircniv said still wondering how much gold he would have to invest into an endeavor like the lending program. For some reason, The Sorcerer King seemed disappointed like the wind had been taken from his sails.
"So anyway, thanks for coming and discussing the future of our great nations," Ainz said in an almost hurried manner. Jircniv wasn't sure what he had done or said but the energy in the room had definitely changed.
"Well yes, I am of course happy to receive a personal audience with The Sorcerer King, and that he would deem me worthy of such a brainstorming session!" Jircniv said with a broad smile, trying to inject some pleasantness back into the mood of the room.
"Well yes, anyway thank you for giving me an hour of your time, I'll ask Mare to send you back to your room when you leave here," Ainz said as he stood up, and motioned to the door. Jircniv stood up when it was acceptable to do so, gave Ainz Ooal Gown a real bow of respect then gave his leave as he was instructed.
Upon entering the room with the portraits hanging everywhere he saw Mare in silent admiration for one of the pictures in general. Oddly enough he was gazing lovingly at the one picture that revolted Jircniv the most, the pile of slime.
"Out of all these amazing works, why is this child so mesmerized with this picture that is easily the worst of the group?" (there was another one he caught sight of that also seemed to be just a pile of sludge with two empty eye sockets drooping depressingly like a slimy skull) He was somewhat friendly with this elf child now, so he would simply just ask.
Maybe he could further endear himself to this young one by striking a civilized conversation about art, he didn't particularly care for this slime picture, but Mare seemed to be interested in it.
"What has you so interested in this picture?" He said in a low voice. Mare didn't answer him, he just kept looking up at the pile of goop. Jircniv looked up at it, maybe trying to see what he was looking at.
"I like her...is all..." Mare said in a hushed tone.
"Her? Interesting, I wouldn't have thought slimes would even have a gender." Jircniv was surprised to hear this fact, it made sense, after all, he'd just never assumed slimes had...genders.
Mare winced and frowned, unbeknownst to Jircniv, Lady Bukubukuchagama disliked the term "slime".
"Don't call her a "slime"..." Mare said, unfortunately, Jircniv did not hear Mare's order to him.
"I guess for a slime... I could kind of see how it would be seen as female... I guess." Jircniv cocked his head to one side, maybe... if he were a slime he'd call it "cute".
"For a slime..." he repeated low to himself as he began to ponder how slimes would even have sex. Unfortunately again for Jircniv, Mare heard him.
"Huh... I've never even seen artwork of slimes before, and I noticed there are two in this room, quite amazing!" As he was saying this he noticed Mare shaking slightly.
"Huh? Mare are you okay?" He asked seeing his odd behavior.
"Don't call her a "Slime"... she's me... " Mare said in a low rumble. He could see Mare trembling even more as he lowered his head low and bit his lower lip.
"Maybe she is scared of this picture after all? Is she..." His thought was cut short by an icy feeling that washed over him like spikes and hooks. His breathing became ragged and short, sweat beaded up on his brow and his eyes began to tear up. His legs trembled and his stomach cramped.
"What... what is this feeling?" Had he been cursed after all? He fell to his knees gasping for air, it was all he could do to breathe!
"Am... Am I going to die? Right here? Right now?" Panic began to overrun his senses, his baser instinct was screaming at him to run for his life, 'run and don't stop, don't ever stop you fool!' But his logic was feverishly trying to figure were to run too, which direction was safe, where could he go...
"What am I even fleeing from?!" He screamed in his mind's voice.
Then he saw the eyes of the elf standing beside him. There was no sunshine, there was no light, no innocence... what he was gazing at was the eyes of someone dead set on destroying what's in front of them.
"Killing Intent..." Is what he told himself from the pit of his stomach... A desire to kill, maim and destroy, all of it, directed at him, from this child...no. This monster.
Killing intent so fierce and strong that standing against it would be like standing against the biggest waves of the oceans.
"Don't... call... Lady Bukubukuchagama..." The vortex of malice washed over him again, he felt as though he might soil himself right here and now.
"Don't... call her... slime... she has... a...name...a...TITLE!" Mare said with a voice as cold and dark as the night itself. He reached out his hand toward him. if Jircniv was able to talk, to scream to cry he might have done all those at once, but as it was all he could do was crouch in front of this child and await his demise, the want to kill him was so thick he now could not even breath.
"We... We are NOT friends!" Mares voice was shaking and trembling. Jircniv felt a shove and his whole world view changed, he was in his room watching a black hole slowly recede away. No longer being assaulted by that emotion, he was able to breathe and stand again. What had he done? Why did the child react that way? He tried to recall the words spoken to him but he could not find the fragments of that memory. He sat on the edge of his bed, still sweating and breathing heavy, he tried to catch his breath but his fatigue from the recent ordeal with the elf claimed him as Jircniv fell back onto his bed like a puppet who strings had been cut.
CHAPTER TWO: Report
Jircniv was awoken by the sound of knocking at his door. This was more than strange, as he was sleeping in his personal chamber, his room... which meant whoever was knocking was standing inside his personal and restricted personal space. Also, the knocking was not light, as a maid or... her knocking would be, it was heavy, and clad behind some kind of strong metal. Jircniv took all this to mean it had to one of the "The Four". This was stranger still, as all three of his personal guards, were not scheduled to be by his side today.
"Yes... Hold on!" Jircniv spoke out loud enough so that either Nimble or Baziwood would be able to hear him, at which the knocking abruptly stopped. Jircniv put on a robe, slipped on his enchanted trinkets, gave a quick stretch and half a bend, yawned then opened the door before also giving his eyes a good rub.
When he opened the door, while he was expecting either Nimble or Baziwood, what he was not expecting was to see both. They had very serious looks on their faces which begat the odd nature of their arrival.
"Your Majesty, we apologize for this intrusion, but as I'm sure you must have already guessed, we have some very important news for you." The bigger of the two said in a respectful but still urgent tone. Jircniv said nothing but walked over to a table he had for entertain such, business-like, meetings. He sat and looked up at them, ready to receive this news.
"Go on Baziwood, what is it?"
"Well... Well early last night, we received a report from one of our informants. It was labeled urgent and had the markings of a 'dragon getting bit by a snake'..." Baziwood exclaimed as his expression grew even more serious.
"Dragon...Snake... Wait, you don't mean?!" Jircniv exclaimed, almost standing up. This was a form of code they used when dealing with matters of utmost importance and secrecy.
"Yes, Your Majesty..." This time it was Nimble who spoke up, he was the smaller of the two and he wore a circlet that wrapped neatly around his forehead and ran underneath his short, neatly trimmed, blonde hair.
"... Our informant has located something very important, but also unknown in nature." Nimble said quietly. The fact that he was still speaking in code and uncertainties, while even in this most trusted of company spoke volumes of the mans training, professionalism, and how serious he considered the news. With Jircnivs ever constant feeling of that he might not be alone when he was, or that things may have been moved ever so slightly, when he knows there would be zero reason for them to be doing so... he was secretly very appreciative of Nimbles professionalism. Jircniv decided to keep up the loose talk for now until his feelings of paranoia let off a bit.
"And... has the dragon gotten the antidote?" (Do we have possession of the item in question?) Both of his trusted guards frowned at the same time. (No) Jircniv thought for a bit.
"How many scales did the dragon lose?" (How far away is this object/when can I expect to see it?) Baziwood shook his head. (not very far... but also not within our borders, no possible time table of delivery)
"And the Doctors? What do they have to say?" (How many of our people know of this object?) The bigger knight looked at the smaller one, it must have been Nimbles man who received the news.
"The infection has spread much faster than we could have hoped." (All is well, other than the trusted man who delivered the news, the only other people to know of this news are in this very room. "Best case scenario".) Jircniv let out a small sigh of relief. He was feeling better about the security of this news so he decided to drop the formalities, plus his curiosity was killing him!
"Wait." There was one more 'question' he had to ask before he could relax his guard.
"Can we all go home happy?" (Does this news relate to The Sorcerer Kingdom or Ainz Ooal Gown) As soon as he spoke the coded question he knew the answer. Both Baziwood and Nimble froze, neither gave any kind of sign of an answer. Then after some time, Baziwood gave a slight cough. (We think so, or at least, good possibility)
"Shit..."Literally, the one thing he did not want to hear... he was only hours removed from 'almost losing his life' over a discussion about art. WAIT. The timing of this news... the goddamn timing! He had just had an audience with Ainz Ooal Gown, a very 'rushed' and odd meeting, even it's name, the... 'powwow' was it? That had to be some kind of code word... which meant, as expected, whatever his trusted knights were about to tell him, it DID relate to the Sorcerer Kingdom, and also Ainz definitely knows whatever they are going to say already.
He had once had a dream, a dream where he was made of wood and decorated in paint, he was the unliving embodiment of a doll, one made to look just like himself, but no matter how hard he tried to move, he would only lay there motionless. Then unexpectedly, he leaped to his feet and begin to dance the silliest of dances, he flailed about the stage, that he was now on, like a mad man, his arms, not under his control, would make the most absurd and obscene gestures at the crowd, finally the dream ended when Jircniv realized the reason he could not move under his own violation, it was due to strings, attached to all his joints and leading upward. At that point the string attached to the back of his head jerked up, forcing him to look at the face of the man who was literally pulling all his strings. And there was the unyielding and unchanging expression of death, that bone face stripped of its skin, with it's empty but all-consuming eyes of black and burning red. Jircniv tried to scream out in horror but alas, this was not in the puppeteer's script and Jircniv was forced to keep dancing like the idiot that he was.
"I'm a puppet on his strings..." Jircniv muttered not on purpose. Both of his knights looked confused then looked at one another for help. (He had "used a code" that they did not understand) Jircniv realized the reason for their distress then smiled and waved his hands.
"No no, I was just thinking, there is no more reason to keep up our coded language as I'm sure The Sorcerer King already knows whatever it is you want to tell me."He said out loud as Jircniv laughed inside his own head.
"Well.. ahem well we think we found something that... Quite frankly, it does not belong to this world." Nimble said gravely.
"What did your man report?" Jircniv directed the question at Nimble.
"He heard odd tales of a strange man living in some caves north of where he was stationed when he went to go investigate he came across a man who had lost his sanity. Nimble paused for a second as he readied the next part of his statement.
"Our man offered to help the individual but he was met with fear and mistrust, and the man ran off into the hills where he was rumored to be living. Luckily my man, whose name is Lent Loudson by the way, is a skilled ranger and had little trouble tracking the man to his cave. There he saw a short male covered in what he hoped was just dirt and mud but with a wild look in his eyes, Lent said that he must have been out in the wild for a very long time due to the overgrowth and wild nature of the man's hair. But when he approached the short man this time he was met with glee and excitement, he wanted to show our man "his treasure". Apparently, he was quite fond of whatever it was, but just as he was about to show what it was the man became violent, then armed with only a blacksmithing hammer attacked Lent." Jircniv eyebrows peeked up at the unexpected events in the report so far. Nimble took a breath and continued the report.
"I guess the unexpected attack worked and he was able to land a rather good blow, but due to the mans short and stocky nature, it landed on one of his knees, a "critical hit" he exclaimed it as. When Lent retaliated with an attack of his own...one backed by an ability he knows, giving him much more power than he normally could muster, I guess he's rather proud of it... however, the crazed man blocked Lents attack with something...with an object he had wrapped in cloth." Nimble finished.
"And?" Jircniv asked waiting for whatever made this news so dire.
"Here is the blade Lent struck at the man with..." Nimble said as he procured a small sack from his waist. Jircniv had noticed this unusual addition to Nimbles attire when he answered them at the door. From the sack, he pulled out a broken dagger, a rather fine one, no a very fine one, other than the fact that it was broken into two pieces, the dagger at large with about three inches missing from it. Shortly after Nimble produced the missing 3 inches, the tip of its blade. Jircnivs eyes widened as soon as he realized the implications of this broken dagger. The dagger was made of adamantite.
"How..." Jircniv began.
"We don't know... but an adamantite dagger... has no business snapping like this, even one made as thin as this one." The pure resilience of adamantite meant you could make the blade thinner, and lighter than usual without sacrificing durability. It should never have snapped like this from a single attack... even one that met resistance on the same level as its own, adamantine.
"Harder than adamantite?" Jircniv asked with a dubious look on his face. Nimble slowly nodded. Jircniv thought for a few seconds then nodded.
"Okay, well first, reimburse Mr. Loudson for this dagger, and give him an award for his actions... even a promotion if you feel he'll do well with it," Jircniv said nodding as he placed the broken dagger down onto the table.
"What happened to the crazy man?" Jircniv asked even though he knew what the answer would be.
"Well due to the nature of his injury, when the man ran off, Loudson was unable to give proper chase, but before he retreated to town to give us this news, he noted that the man seemed to be heading toward a known forest, and not deeper into the hills," Nimble said gravely. Jircniv clicked his tongue, he could guess just which forest this man had probably run into.
"Is it?" Jircniv asked looking at his knight in the eye.
"Yes, the forest that's under the control of a mighty goblin army and located next to a "village" that, until lately, nobody knew even existed... Carne "Village"." Jircniv eye twitch ever so slightly.
"This man, this short, stocky man with a blacksmithing hammer...I'm guessing he had a large beard as well?" Jircniv asked, raising up an eyebrow.
"Lent did report that all his hair was overgrown, so yes, he had quite the large beard," Nimble answered.
"A dwarf...it has to be... and wasn't that monster babbling about something they used to make... "rune crafting"?" Jircnivs eyes widened, so it was all connected...
"Any chance this man was a dwarf?" Jircniv asked? Both of his knights looked shocked.
"Your Majesty... while this man was 'short and stocky' there hasn't been the sight of a Dwarf in quite some time... even so close to their 'once' capital.
"There have been all sorts of beings cropping up that until late, we would never see." Jircniv reminded his guard. It was true, with the revamped E-Rantel, one was reported to see all sorts of craziness once thought only would happen in fairy tales. And it just so happened that Jircniv had a close and personal friend who, for lack of a better word, knew the dwarves very well.
"Okay, it is my suspicion that this man... is a dwarf, so I will be researching this, personally," Jircniv said with a serious expression. Both his knights broke their perfect posture and went into one where you were pleading with someone.
"Your Majesty, there is no reason to burden yourself with this, and your time alone is..."
"My time is more abundant than ever thanks to His Majesty The Sorcerer King!" He rebuked his guards.
"Pluss... Plus this gives me a reason to call on a good friend of mine." Jircniv said with a smile.
"The...Uh, the demihuman? Your, Majesty?" Nimble asked. Jircniv looked disappointed, neither of his guards had met Pe Riyuro, but he had told them about him, and painted him in a very positive light, but it would seem because he was a DemiHuman, or more accurately a 'Quagoa'. Neither of his guards trusted his new friend very much, or it could just possibly be jealousy on their parts, he chuckled in his head as he pictured child versions of his two favorite guards crying and bawling because they wanted their daddy to spend more time with them. No to think of them as such was a discredit to their station, but he did sometimes view them as kids, his kids... even more so than his actual offspring.
"And as it just so happens, that as a Vassal State to The Sorcerer Kingdom, I am welcomed into towns of trade!" Jircniv exclaimed as he clapped his hands.
"E-Rantel? But the report has the man going..." Baziwood started until he realized his emperor's deviousness at work.
"I see... So then shall I begin preparations for His Majesty to visit the 'trade town' of E-Rantel?" Baziwood asked. Jircniv gave him a nod.
"But even still... to enter The Sorcerer Kingdoms territory without so much as a notice, isn't that a little...odd?" Nimble asked.
"I personally believe that a low profile visit would yield better results and would be a better use of my "important" time," Jircniv smirked.
"And besides... I fully believe my actions are that of the will of The Sorcerer King himself." He told his guards honestly.
"Why is that, Your Majesty?" They asked, almost in unison. He did not offer them an answer, instead, he just turned his attention to the window and peered out at the morning sky.
"Because I'm a puppet dancing at the end of his strings." He quietly thought to himself. then sneered inwardly. In about a days time they were ready to go and headed down to the royal stables.
"I know Your Majesty said he wanted to keep a low profile... but is the two of us really okay?" Baziwood remarked with concern after Jircniv told him it would just be the two of them escorting him to "E-Rantel".
"I agree with Baziwood, what if we are attacked by a force the two of us alone cannot handle?" Nimble objected. To this Jircniv remained silent but with a knowing smile. Baziwood just looked at Nimble and shrugged. They walked in silence for a bit longer when Nimble furrowed his brow and stopped walking.
"Wait... Your Majesty, who will be taking us there? You have not assigned a driver for us." Nimble asked confused, he knew Jircniv would never just "forget" to do something like that. To this Jircniv just smiled again and motioned that it will be fine as he took a turn toward the royal stables... but not his usual stable. Jircniv led his ever-suspicious knights to a dark red door with no handle, window or locks to speak of.
"What is this door? Has this always been here? No, this is new... is this magical?" Nimble asked growing even more nervous. Jircniv placed his hand on a section of the door, it lit up then there was a sound of unlatching and the giant red door began to swing open slowly. Nimble and Baziwood exchanged glances.
"Try not to freak out, this was a gift from His Majesty," Jircniv said as the door finished it's motion, inside was something neither of them expected to see. A charred black skeletal frame of a hoarse obediently stood there, it's green fog that it produced from 'one only knows' fell harmlessly to the ground before dissipating. It turned its gaze toward Jircniv and even though it's empty eye sockets were filled with nothing but pale smoke it still managed to pull off a look of friendly recognition when it saw the emperor.
"I believe they are called 'Soul Eaters' " Jircniv said with a gloomy tone.
"But I like to call him 'Biscuit!'" Jircniv proclaimed with a high tone. Both of his knights leaped in between him and the undead threat but Jircniv simply moved between them and walked up next to the undead entity.
"You like that name... don't cha Biscuit?" Jircniv said patting the "back" of whatever this thing had for a back. Nimble was sure he saw the Soul Eater roll it's nonexistent eyes at the mention of the name Biscuit.
"This thing is..." Baziwood stammered. Jircniv continued walking past the undead killing machine and led his baffled but ever understanding knights to the carriage that was attached to it.
"That... frog looking demon that works for His Majesty, Demiurge, had this delivered to me shortly after I asked to become a vassal state. As a way of "Thanks for making his job easier" or something to that nature, anyway, he assured me that, as a vassal state, should I ever be in The Sorcerous Kingdoms territories, should I ride in this, I will be 100% safe from harassment or checks and left alone from any of the low-level guards that will be stationed all over the roads... oh he said something about a ship escorting me as well should I feel the need... but how a ship would escort a land carriage, I have no idea." Jircniv said while shrugging and opening the door.
"You should let me get that for you..." Baziwood said not happy with how his Emperor had just opened the door for his servants.
"No, it's magic, it will open only for me or one of Nazarick... oh that reminds me, HEY BISCUIT?" Jircniv shouted to the front of the carriage, the undead horse lazily turned its head to meet his gaze.
"Listen to these two as you would me too, okay?" Jircniv said pointing to his guards. "Biscuit" gave a single nod of understanding then turned it's head forward awaiting further orders.
"But still... it's very gracious of Ain..." Baziwood looked nervously at the undead horse.
"...His Majesty, The Sorcerer King, to lend you such a beast." Baziwood finished, maintaining a worried look on the Soul Eater.
"Yes... and should something ever to happen and we were declared enemies of the sorcery kingdom..." Jircniv said as he cast a glance at the beast. At that moment both knights saw that, even though he had named this thing, The Emperor knew all too well what it could, and happily would do, if the order should be given to it by its true master.
"Just another shackle disguised as a bracelet."
"But beyond that, with this thing, I mean, with 'Biscuit' in tow, what threat would befall us that we could not handle?" Jircniv asked his knights. Indeed, even if an enemy dragon or hoard of demihuman were to befall them, they would have to do little more than lay back and laugh at the idiots who dared attack a creature summoned from the ruler of death and magic. Both knights gave a nod of understanding before joining their Emperor in the posh carriage.
"Oh.. um Your Majesty, while it may be... normal in The Sorcerer Kingdom..." Nimble cast a worried look at Biscuit.
"Ah yes, you're right, we will be traveling out of The Empire, so I'd hate to cause a stir on the way out, um..." Jircniv paused as in exaggerated thought for a moment. He then snapped his fingers and pointed at Biscuit in an almost comical way of ordering something to do something.
"Biscuit! Human driver... black coat!" Jircniv proclaimed loudly. The smoke from the soul eater began to suck into its frame, then it shot out to cover itself and the driver's seat with the sickly green and yellow smoke, there was a shimmer and suddenly the death mount became a normal horse with a beautiful black coat and long black mane and tail, there was a man they did not see before sitting at the driver's helm holding reins in his hands and continually pantomiming the act of controlling a horse. When the shock wore off, the two knights crawled into the carriage and took a seat opposite their emperor.
"Okay then, Biscuit! take us to E-Rantel! Medium pace." There was a slight lurch and the carriage began to move to its destination. However, it wasn't long before they hit their first snag. An overturned food cart had the street they wanted to use to left crowded and for all purposes, blocked.
"Looks like this could be a while, eh?" Nimble asked to nobody in particular. (but with that tone it should be assumed it was toward Baziwood.)
"I hope not too long, I can't help but noticed His Majesty didn't pack any food or water either..." Baziwood said with a concerned look at his emperor. Jircniv as usual just pulled a knowing smirk and pointed at some boxes and jugs stationed underneath the seats that the knights were sitting upon.
"Meats...vegetables...fruits...water...wine." Jircniv listed the contents of each of the containers.
"They are endless, will never run out no matter how much Baziwood here ate and drank!" Jircniv said, teasing his favorite knight.
"We could be stuck in the mountains and live for eternity on the contents of those containers, we'd have everything we could ever need." The Emperor explained while helping himself to an apple that he produced from the 'fruit' container.
"Well... We wouldn't have any women!" Baziwood exclaimed with a laugh.
"Eh, if things got that bad we could just dress up Nimble here in a dress and make him dance for us." Jircniv jokingly laughed.
"Y...your majesty... Is in a mood today..." Nimble said trying to not show any reaction to the out of place joke.
"I'm sorry Nimble, you're right... maybe my outlook has been changed by my near death experience last night..." Jircniv said, wiping the smile from his face to show he was not joking anymore. The two knights looked at him with disbelief.
"Oh, that's right... I haven't told you about my... "powwow" with the Sorcerer King the other day." Jircniv stated, getting ready to relay the events of the night before. he told them everything that had happened, everything except the part where he nearly wet himself because of a child's angry gaze.
"To think, only His Majesty would turn art discussion into such a life or death struggle," Nimble said with a sly smile. Jircniv frowned at the implications of that remark but ultimately decided he deserved it for putting the image of Nimble in a dress in their heads.
"So then you really think The Sorcerer King knows about this "unknown item" and wants us to get it for him?" Baziwood asked.
"The timing can't be a coincidence, he pulls me aside for some secret meeting, he talks of something only dwarves are known to do... then news of a possible dwarf surfaces carrying something incredible, merely a day later? No, I don't know why he didn't just come out and say it... but I'm sure that this is what he wants me to do." Jircniv stated in confidence.
"Okay then... Let's go get us a dwarf... Erm, well when this mess clears up anyway..." Baziwood said with a frown. It was then that the sound of a lute caught their attention. It would seem a wandering bard was going to use this incident to get some 'forced audience' attention... and hopefully a few coppers!
"Roll down the window, I want to hear this!" Jircniv said pointing to the window. Baziwood nodded and cracked the window open just enough to let the sound carry in but not to reveal the people on the inside.
"Hello ladies and gentlemen, while we wait for this tragedy of a mess to be cleared, may I tell you a tale of a different but still recent tragedy!" The bard began and he strummed his lute to no particular tune. A look of recognition and then worry settled across Baziwood's face.
"Um...perhaps His Majesty may not want to listen too well to this particular tune..." Baziwood gloomily stated. Jircniv gave a look of understanding but just shrugged.
"If this song paints me in an unfavorable manner then I should listen... no, I must listen." The Emperor stated as he leaned back against his comfortable seat and waited for the show to begin. The bard began his story...
"Every year we would gather to fight our neighbors to the west (music)
after a while, it seemed so pointless, we called The Kingdom a pest (more music followed by some chuckles from the Empire loyal crowd.)
Until The Sorcery King decided to give that whole business a REST!" (He strummed louder to get more people's attention)
ALL our knights lined up again, all in a row usually just for show! (music)
So did The Kingdom with its mighty Gazaff The Hero! (music stops abruptly, to mimic a "moment of silence" as nobody was happy to be reminded of the death of the greatest warrior of their two nations.)
But out came the one cloaked all in black, with his army of death he stood to ATTACK! (another loud music strum)
The Kingdom saw him and did CHARGE! But what they thought were jokes...(silence)
TURNED OUT TO BE FIVE GIANT BABY GOATS! (the bard strummed erratically as this was the 'main part' of his performance)
The Kingdom made a mistake! And tried to run, this was not fun then the ground began to QUAKE! (music)
And before anyone knew... (silence)
what was this...
and what was that...(the bard paused to look at all the faces that were stopped to look at him, he had everyone's attention now, it was time for the best part...)
The Kingdoms soldiers began to go... (a very long pause)
SPLAT! (loud strum)
SPLAT! (loud strum)
SPLAT! (loud strum)
SPLAT! (loud strum)
SPLAT! (loud strum)" The crowd clapped at the clever use of words and music at once.
"OHHHH! But WHY did The Sorcery King use such a powerful spell, when ANYTHING would do...?" Baziwood shot a worried glance at Jircniv for he knew what was coming next...
"IT'S BECAUSE OUR GREAT EMPEROR! Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix... HE'S THE ONE WHO TOLD HIM TO USE *THAT!* The bard then quickly flipped over his lute to reveal a crude painting of a black baby goat on the underside of his lute. The crowd erupted in laughter and applause at the unexpected reveal of the baby goat. Baziwood looked at Jircniv to gauge his reaction but Jircniv was looking with a worried look of his own at Nimble. Nimble was sweating profusely, his teeth were chattering, his whole body was shaking and his eye movements seemed very erratic he was holding himself together, but by only a thread.
"SHIT" Baziwood was so worried about how The Emperor would take a bad joke... He forgot that his friend was actually there when this happened, he knew that Nimble was a little different after that day, and never cared to speak of it. Baziwood quickly rolled up the window and tried to act like he didn't notice the sorry state his friend was in, pity would be the worst thing right now. Jircniv and Baziwood just sat in awkward silence watching their friend, mentally relive the worst day in his life.
"Try and find us another way around Biscuit..." Jircniv solemnly ordered their soul Eater for a driver.
Baziwood added something to his mental "to do list"... beat the living shit out of that bard next time he saw him. The three continued their trip to E-Rantel in silence, neither of them said anything when Nimble silently began to weep into his hands.