A.N. at the bottom. Its nice to be back.
"What did you do wrong?" asked a fast and noisy male voice.
The question hit him totally unprepared while he was still wondering how he ended up in a dark room. He had expected to be led into some kind of preparation area before the match where he would get some final instructions and could check his gear but that was quite difficult in pitch black darkness when there were about 20 other people competing for air. Don had a feeling he would rue his career choice.
"Hey, new one, I asked you a question!" poked 'Noisy' his shoulder harder and hissed promptly in pain. "Ouch! What are you made of? Damn, you hurt me!"
"They must have wanted to get rid of you really quick if they threw you in here so late, hahaha…" Laughed a deep male voice further back in the room and several more joined in.
Don didn't get what they were on about. Who would want to get rid of him? Ainz Ooal Gown? Had he already found them and notified his minions to secure him? No, if so this room would hardly contain him and if the door was not heavily enchanted he could simply smash it with a knock. The Sorcerer King would know that and have found a better prison capable of holding him. Also why would he risk so much damage and confront him in the middle of one of his great cities?. If he felt certain he could level the entirety of Arwintar with his strength alone not even using a skill than a genuine fight with the Sorcerer King or one of his lieutenants would be magnitudes more devastating. Going by that logic it was highly unlikely he had heard a servant of Nazarick but rather a misinformed random guy. "No one threw me in her, where ever here is. Seriously, how can you stand the air? Did you know about these working conditions beforehand?"
"Are you asking me?"
"I think he meant him."
"The guy who talked first or the other one?"
"The one after."
"So me?"
"No, the one before you."
"Guys, ladies and things!" interrupted Don the cascade. "I am here on my own volition. I didn't do anything wrong."
The whole room erupted in a brief and harsh laughter and Don began to wonder if something was wrong with his undies. A female voice reminded him. "There's no point in denying your guilt anymore, even if its true. You are at the end of the road. Just give up."
"Why are you talking like you are certain of your defeat?"
Silence ruled supreme for a short moment before an old sounding female asked concerned. "Honey, you do realize this is a death cell, do you?"
"A death cell?"
"YES IT IS A DEATH CELL, YOU IGNORANT FOOL! WE ARE GOING TO DIE! EACH AND EVERYONE AND YOU KEEP CHATTING LIKE OLD WIVES! YOU ARE MAD! MAD! MAD! MA-eurgghh!" Screamed a hysteric room mate with hatred born of desperation before his deafening whine suddenly died with a dry chortle. Just where had Don ended? A man made hell on 30 square meters?
Before even thinking it through Don called in worry. "Are you okay? Say something! Hey, what have you done with him! Answer me!"
Silence reigned for a few heavy seconds before a bass, raw man's voice answered. "I did him a favor."
"Are you nuts! We are supposed to kill ourselves in the arena, you psycho!"
"Between the fear killing him or what waits above my hands were a quick and painless favor." Stood 'Bass' by his deed.
Don had been prepared to meet men and women ready to kill without a remorse when he would sign up as a gladiator; it was a blood sport, after all; but the way Bass spoke… It didn't sound malicious. It sounded genuine which was far more unsettling than just meeting a medieval mindset used to killing. He did not know what to respond. He did not know what to feel.
The stone floor rumbled briefly and Don felt a light jerk upwards. The whole room must have been moving. Between the dull cracking of great clockworks and straining ropes behind the walls he began to hear something else. What first sounded like distant waves hitting a shore soon crystallized into howls and calls of a teeming mass that confirmed his suspicion they were being raised into the arena.
A blinding crack of light appeared in the ceiling and the loud howls of the spectators followed right after as a physically experienced wave. He felt the floor slow down while he still adjusted after the darkness to the glaring sun light. Feeling a movement of fresh air on his face Don took instinctively a deep breath and struggled at once disciplining his gag reflex.
Blood, liquor, sweat, piss, shit, vomit, half-digested food and candid bird tongue's saturated the air so heavy he not just smelt it in his nose but also could taste it on his tongue and in his pharynx. Filled as his memory had been with fantasy movies and games Don had been prepared to see and apply extreme bodily mutilation and to be doused in blood but not one second had he considered his chemical receptors. Vowing to from that moment on forward critically question his entertainment derived expectations Don wrestled down the nausea and actually looked up from under his eyes shielding hand. 20 meters ahead he saw a burly man in rags run away who had dropped a nicked sword and wooden shield. He was the last of a group of seven who ran for the 15 meters high wall 40 meters ahead of them. He turned to his right and saw a similar group of six people, among them an ogre, run away. Wondering what they wanted there since he saw nowhere a door for them to escape to; just heavily armed soldiers in plate armor guarding the spiked edge; Don looked behind himself and saw a football sized uvula fly directly toward his face.
With barely more of a conscious decision than 'I will attack it' Don kicked down the whirlpool sized under jaw with the prominent canines that belonged to the uvula teeth shattering into the ground while a backhand hit with his shield annihilated it. As the giant creature started to topple from the impact Don rammed his sword upwards into the black and pink spotted palatal till it touched the guard and heaved. As easy as swinging a chopstick Don pulled on his handle and threw one-handed the beast over him so it crashed on its back with a deep pitiful growl.
Don didn't let go of the handle but ran instead forward over the unhinged, shattered jaw and the sand colored fur of the beast's breast and stomach while pulling the sword behind him. He heard and smelled the beast's torso fold out behind him as the adamantium easily severed bones, muscles and connective tissue while the stadium's background noise rapidly shrunk. He jumped off the creatures and in doing so grabbed its thin tail with the black tassel with his shield arm. As soon as his foot touched down he swung the entire barely dead carcass three quarters of a turn and whipped with a thundering crack a second behemoth that was pouncing on him.
Only after hitting it did he consciously register it as a female lion the size of train wagon. His carcass weapon disintegrated into a gruesome shower of meat, blood and broken bones and the other lion barely fared better. Its entire flank shattered and the fur and muscles flayed off as it flew through the arena. Don din't follow it and whirled around instead for the remaining very angry male lion 30 meters from him that charged. Using his skill [Perfect Aim] he threw forward his sword and severed the cats left limps right below the proximal joints. It crashed to the ground and kept sliding forward due to its huge inertia till its nose tip stopped just before Don. The lion got to growl pitifully one last time before his fist shot forth and shattered its entire skull.
The spectators who had been holding their breaths exploded into a frenzied cheer but he had a hard time enjoying it. Not only was he soaked top to bottom with cat blood but he had also begun to form a dark suspicion. Don thought he now understood how Astrid got to enter him so quick into a match instead of him having to wait perhaps months for a spot to fight. She must have sent him in with those fated to die for the amusement of the spectators for surely the administration wouldn't have minded another corpse bleeding for the laughs. A small part of him even felt impressed by the stunt.
The other convicts came running for him and grouped in a crowd around him. While Donswiped the blood off his face and body a bare chested bear of man with a shaggy brown beard that reached his navel spoke with the bass voice he remembered from the elevator: "Stranger, I thank you for effort. I think we all do and we all also can hardly believe your strength but I it is not over yet."
Don followed Bass's finger to the other side of the arena where a large trap door began to open.
"He meant: Please save us from those other monsters!" called Noisy, a gaunt donkey man with distinctive large front tooth.
A sickening stench, rotten and sweet at the same time, waved over from the hole and as the maddening sound of countless hissing mouths and gurgling throats grew louder, slimy flesh colored tentacles dotted with spikes and mollusk eyes began to test and crawl over the elevators edge.
Don realized his efforts of cleaning had been pointless and nodded. "Okay." He jumped up in one powerful leap perfectly calculated to land him in the center of the elevator. His adamantium sword returned with a thought to his hand just as he passed his jump's zenith and when he had almost reached the disgusting bundle of worm like flesh and interspersed mouths he activated his skill [Blade Storm].
He felt a muscle memory emerge in his body and guide his blade in an artistic yet at the same time efficient curve through the converging tentacles like he had done it yesterday and all days before for an eternity. A thousand cuts aimed and delivered for the utmost damage shred the beast in a fraction of a second and the massive turbulence caused by his strikes blew out the creatures remains like an geyser of blood and boneless meat. Caked with gore himself Don couldn't help himself but snort amused when a few seconds later the spectators ecstatic yells turned to horrified screams as the grisly rain showered them.
Don jumped out of the elevator hole and saw the death convicts run for him again, away from yet another threat. "Do you mind?" Asked Noisy as he sprinted past him and jumped like the rest of his comrades into the hole Don had just crawled out of.
"Sure, I've got time to burn." Answered Don more for himself than for Noisy as he focused his latest charging foe: a massive bull artfully crafted from iron plates that glowed red hot from an inner fire that licked out of its nostrils with every raging breath. The other two monsters Don had recognized from Yggdrasil; [Nemean Lions] and a [Worm Father], very weak creatures of the level 15 to 25 range who served most of the time mainly as atmospheric enhancers than actual threats similar to rats scurrying in canals.
But Don had never seen a similar creature in the game like the burning bull, nothing that touched the aesthetic side of his soul like it. It was wild and armed and yet pure and majestic! It was hard and unnatural yet elegant and alive! It was inspiring!
He let his sword and shield fall as the bull lowered its head to aim his horns. Don had made his decision and grabbed the horns before they would hit him. He wouldn't kill the burning bull. He would tame it.
Don's strength was orders of magnitude greater than the beast's and easily enforced their relative position but the bull weighted far more than him and the ground provided not enough hold to Don's un-enchanted boots so the beast kept pushing him back with unrelenting fury, seemingly intending to crush him on the wall.
Instead Don used the wall as a levy point and lifted up the bull tail first above him. The rapt attention of the spectators changed into amused chuckles and applause as he stepped away from the wall and balanced the struggling but in the end helpless bovine. Ignoring the cheers and encouragements to 'Break its neck!' he sought the burning bulls sculpted eyes that glowed even hotter than the surrounding metal. "You will yield! And you will live!" Don activated his [Threatening Stare]-skill, a common warrior ability in Yggdrasil that caused affected foes if they didn't resist to either flee in terror or focus the skill-user as the center of their hatred, depending on their power difference.
The bull calmed down at once. Pulling it limps close to its body it looked down at him with suddenly so very kind and wise eyes that waited resigned for him to continue speaking. Could it really have been intelligent enough to understand his words or did it just feel his intent? "Stop attacking, anyone that is, and stay calm. Understood?"
It looked at him with unchanged expression. Maybe cows couldn't show emotions that way, Don was no expert, or maybe he just didn't understand him but either way he would have to test it if the bull wouldn't suddenly start to speak. He let the beast down and to his relief it behaved. It even started to rub its head against him and smelled his feet and pockets. Thankfully Dons clothes were resistant to normal fire or he would have lit up like dry straw in a furnace.
Noting from the corner of his eye a great slap of the wall fold in he padded the bull's snout a last time and ordered. "Stay and from now on behave. Don't just attack people if they didn't attack you." It showed no reaction besides staying in place and he walked over to the new door.
Human soldiers in gleaming steel armor and blue tabbards flooded out to form two lines in a V shape leading inward the door. He quickly abandoned the idea they could have been some kind of honor guard when they pulled their swords and raised their shields as one and dared him with their at him pointed weapons to deviate from the offered path. Don guessed their weapons had to enchanted if they realistically hoped to use them against him after seeing him in the arena. He still didn't feel threatened. Just by seeing them run and pull their arms his instincts told him they were no more threat than the monsters before even if they attacked him all at once.
As soon as he stepped out of the afternoon light into the shadows of the hall a grating rumble sounded and the heavy doors closed behind him leaving him for a brief moment nearly blind as his eyes adjusted. A pair of hands clapped and an effeminated sounding man spoke pleased: "Splendid. Just splendid. I believe I never saw such a spectacle before."
If not for the prominent Adam's apple and stubby upper lip Don would have struggled to assign the powdered aristocrat a gender. His haggard face was snow white but his lips blood red and his eye shadow a thick blue and the silver locks of his wig towered almost a foot over his eyes and reached two past his narrow shoulders just above his potbellied waist. What he lacked in natural good looks he seemed to try to compensate with expensive clothes like his deep blue west and coat with interwoven gold threads and reptile leather shoes with high heels and golden loops for the blue ribbons on them. The ten guards who followed the man and encircled Don eyed him warily through their vision slits and perfected the image of an absolute monarch.
"Nice. Would have been a shame if I wasted my time out there." Said Don and promptly felt a slight tap at his head's behind while hearing a loud metallic clang and a painful hiss. Turning to his side he saw the only soldier with a wide red stripe painted over his helm clutch his limp gauntlet.
"You will only speak when asked, slave! Don't forget your place!" growled the guard just barely hiding a painful whimper.
Choosing to save himself the effort of explaining the man the impotence of his threat Don resigned himself to consider the wig in silence. He had a strong feeling he was someone of importance, maybe the administrator of the arena or a rich patron. Surely in this world, too, no-names didn't get backstage access and a small army for comfort.
"Hu hu hu." chuckled the wig weakly behind a gnarled and small hand. "He didn't even feel you, Gaston. You just, 'Peng!', bounced off and now you are ruing, not him! This one," He shook his hand like a dead fish in Don's direction. "has the potential to up-root the entire league. I didn't even dare to hope for such a luck find."
"Your excellence, my name is still Zenaev." objected the red striped guard.
"And I am supposed to remember?" Asked the wig. "I am demanded by far more important duties than keeping notes on an exchangeable cog and I say with all due respect that a cog has far better things to do than wonder about the quirks of its lever." -Don chuckled and stopped another pummel with his index.- "Just wondering about all the new moves that opened up to me is straining my attention I can invest for you." waved he this time in the red striped one's neighbor's direction.
Zenaev bow his head with a sigh. "Of course, your excellence."
The wig stepped closer to Don till two steps away. Don had considered the chance he would he inspecting him with a staff of command but the wig kept its touch for itself and just looked him slowly up and down. "Yes…" mouthed he slowly to himself. "This one will do nicely, indeed."
Strangely Don didn't feel assaulted by his scan. It felt functional and dry as the moon even as he briefly raised a brow when inspecting his face. "By what name do you fight?" Asked the wig without batting an eye. The deep folds of his face with the crumbling powder filling barely moved and all the jollity was gone. It was a warrior that mustered him. Maybe not of the blade but Don was certain he was relentless but honorable foe in his own field.
"You can write Magnum on my grave!" Tried Don his talents on action hero trash talk. The wig blinked startled causing Don to realize he had been needless aggressive and edgy. The man had asked a simple question so he should get a simple answer, "Magnum, probably spelled as spoken."
"So with a 'Tcht' at the beginning?"
"Ye….es?" Don had no idea what 'Tcht' was. Was it a Symbol for a sound like 'W' for 'Wwww…' or part of a symbol that meant 'Magnum'? He realized in that moment that the apparent ability to automatically understand any language could also prove a severe handicap in actually learning the languages and their written words. Had the Sorcerer King learned it by now?.
'How long exactly had the Sorcerer King time learn?' flashed a new burning question in his mind. By Silcero's account He was first seen 20 years ago but that didn't strictly mean he couldn't have been around much longer. Maybe he plotted and prepared for years a meticulous and brilliant plan before he showed himself and conquered the world in a dominating storm. He was an undead, likely a lich variant like an 'Overlord', and had all the time in the world to wait for the right moment.
"Don't take him serious, Magnum. Arch arena master Noppolon is teasing you." spoke suddenly Astrid stepping out of the shadows to take a stern stance with her hands behind her back at the wig's side. "I already told him you are an illiterate born slave and he shouldn't be fooled by my generosity to you." pulled she briefly at his clean shirt. "I simply love my possessions to stay clean."
The soldiers around them dropped to their knees and began to wimper and babble as Don felt his heart rate spike. His bitch wife must had really done it and realized the worst case scenario of many old patriarchic nightmares. She had enslaved him. She hadn't registered him as a volunteer for the deathmatch, she must have registered him as her slave! Why else would she talk so openly about it in the presence of the arena master?
It was a new low in their marriage Don doubted he would ever forget but if he spoke up now and set things straight he would not only surely jeopardize his place in the arena but also provoke awkward questions why a wife would go to lengths to set up her super strong husband as a slave. The blood caking his exposed skin began to boil as he forced himself to say. "Of course,...mistress. We wouldn't want that."
Noppolon chuckled amused. "Gracious lord, what a well behaved slave you have found yourself, Lady Nuncis. I am sure you can imagine how many times I have to interact with dulled brutes but your Magnum seems to be a pleasant exception. How long did it take you to train him?"
"Oh I'm still riding him in, your excellence. My conditioning is far from being finished." Said Astrid with a teasing smile only he could see and stepped closer. When she removed her hands from her back he saw a silver chain and a black leather collar attached to it in them and instantly balanced threatening hissing with being careful to not be heard by Noppolon.
"(Don't you dare! Astrid, I'm warning you! If you won't stop at once you'll regret it!)"
She knew full well he couldn't do anything without blowing their story and whispered back while securing the collar around his neck with a damning solid click. "(Honey, please.)" She tucked at the chain and whistled two sharp notes. "Come, Magnum. We have business in his excellence study and you had enough run for a day in the arena.
Astrid didn't drop dead from his withering stare so he trudged behind Noppolon and her past the still whimpering guards on the floor. Just as Don had suspected the wig was far tougher than what his rakish appearance suggested if he managed to resist his [Battle Aura] while his supposed guards dropped at once.
Noppolon led them up and out of the arena to a smaller, but still stately side building of the arena that sported small marble statues in recesses between the windows and a beautiful mosaic of fighting and dying gladiator on the entire floor level while the upper level had been painted white. His hope for some water and a clean rag to remove the blood and meaty bits quickly crumbled when Astrid locked his chain on the beam normally reserved for horses and went inside after Noppolon without giving him even the chance to show his displeasure.
While the two gaurds flanking the entrance snickered Don dropped down on his ass and sighed mentally exhausted. On the one side he longed to openly rage and scream to the world his frustration, tell it how unfair it was treating him and that he didn't need a reminder each and every day he wasn't king of the world, he got the lesson, thank you, but on the other side he knew it would be pointless. The only one who would listen would be the two idiots next to the door and he doubted they would offer him any earnest help. Just the thought of asking them for relationship advice send a cold shower down his spine and he looked ashamed again at chain connecting his neck to wooden beam.
To break it would have been easier than snapping a thin twig but Don wasn't locked in place by physical restraints but by his own ambition. Sure he could have just stood up, broken the chain and strangled with it the now whispering and chuckling underlings but then what? Even if he just walked away he would provoke a witch hunt for an escaped slave and he expected a massive response after his performance in the arena. More likely than not powerful agents of the Sorcerer King would be involved in the search for him something he must avoid at any cost. Don would also miss the chance to compete in the arena and meet worthy foes for honorable dual combat and if he couldn't even prove his prowess and earn some coin what role would be left for him in their little family?
Astrid had made it repeatedly very clear she wasn't going to involve him in any grand scale plans and didn't value his intellect and even Snot seemed to hold higher esteem in her mind than him which still baffled Don. He might not have been a genius but it should have been obvious he was smarter, stronger and far more empathetic than his squire and thus by default more suited for any task Astrid might come up with so why did she prefer to work with the toadie? It didn't make any sense.
He was released from his broken thoughts when two sloshing water buckets were set down before him and rag and a brush thrown in them. "Clean yourself. You stink worse than a butcher." spoke the entrance guard who had brought him the buckets. Don considered asking him in turn when he had taken his last bath but in the end just sighed and reached for the brush.
Although the offering had been clearly made out of self-interest instead of concern for Don's well-being it felt good to scrap the grime off his skin and rediscover his original pigmentation. After he finally dunked his head in the bucket he had left clean his mood had improved significantly. At least his hygiene felt human again if not his social position. Since he had no interest in talking with the guards and they gave off no sign they wanted to converse with him Don leaned back on the house wall and closed his eyes to doze away the time.
He didn't know exactly how long he slept but when the sound of the opening front door woke him the shadows had become long and the day light had acquired a distinct orange tint. Astrid came out alone with a leather folder under her arm and gave off no sign of being disturbed by his angry stare while she loosened the chain from the beam. Don stood up and slowly and pointedly looked at the chain attached to his neck she held lie a dog leash. 'This is unacceptable! Set this right!' said his look since he couldn't speak openly in front of the guards but she smirked unimpressed with one corner of her mouth and briefly tucked two time on the chain like she was signaling a pet to follow.
The two guards began to babble incomprehensible nonsense and buckle when Astrid graced them with a courteous nod when leaving. Don had no idea where she was leading them but he couldn't wait to be alone with her and tell her very precisely his mind. Perhaps she had been expecting that for she led them to one of the great boulevards circling the city's center where he couldn't freely express his emotions without creating a scene. Was she hoping to stall till he had cooled down so much he would let this newest slight slide by?
Don wouldn't let her off the hook so easily and reached around with an arm to pull her closer and whisper only for her ear. "(Have you lost your last shreds of decency or didn't you have a conscience in the first place? How could you sell me into slavery? I am supposed to be your dear husband but you have nothing better to do than barter me away!)"
"(I didn't sell you to Noppolon, Honey)" Said Astrid not the slightest bit bothered and cuddled even closer clearly enjoying his touch.
"(So I miss-heard when he called me a slave, when the guards called me slave and when you called me a slave? Do you think I'm stupid?)"
"(Yes.)" Answered she happily and pressed a quick kiss on his audacity shocked lips. "(Honey, I would rather die than part with you, you know that)"
"(Then what exactly did you do?)" Pressed Don skeptically.
"(Nothing of any practical consequence, Honey, a formality.)"
"(What kind of formality?)"
"(I registered you as my slave.)"
"That's not better!" Blurted Don angrily and let go of her not caring for the moment who would listen. "That's even worse! Do you even grasp the concept of marriage? We are supposed to watch each others back not sell out!"
"Stop being such a sissy and keep it down, Honey." Said Astrid and slung this time her arm around his waist to guide him. "("It was just a legal verification of the marital vow to serve each other faithfully.)"
They never exchanged vows! They didn't even have a ceremony! ('Each other' with a clear focus on 'each'! Being master and slave is the exact opposite of that vow!" Hissed Don.
"It is exactly half of it which is better than nothing." Countered Astrid and started to play with the chain hanging from his neck. "And I wouldn't have minded playing the slave myself but what's done is done."
"Anyone could say that in hindsight! Enlighten me: what made you pick me for the slave role?"
Don was suddenly yanked down by the chain to Astrid's eye level and although she was beautiful as ever and her tone warm and friendly he knew deep down it was anything but a reassurance when she carefully explained. "(Honey, you wanted to get involved, not me, and registering me as your legal servant would have helped nothing to allowing you to fight in the arena. You would have wasted for months in a training camp before they would have allowed you to enter your first fight if I didn't secure you a spot among the doomed ones. So if you've had a better idea you should have told me. Did you have one? Did you have a better idea?)"
He had not and also had no witty counter for her.
"(That's what I thought.)" Said Astrid with a final tuck on his chain before releasing it and moving on.
Although Don couldn't come up with a good argument he wouldn't hand her another victory without fighting and he hurried after to ask. "Are you trying to sell me that slavery was the best option?`You could have simply dominated the administration to quicken my entry.
"And risk the attention of authorities? I don't think so. Any decent government would regularly test its members for such an influence and although they shouldn't be able to directly link such a spell to me they would start searching for the source. By being my slave…"
"You mean by pretending to be my owner." Interjected Don.
"I know what I said. As a matter of fact the status of a slave is the best that could have happened to you." Don seriously doubted that but he remained silent so she would finish her excuse. "As soon as the Sorcerer King will learn or suspect our existence he will be looking all over his kingdom for exceptionally powerful specimen. He will interrogate people, listen for rumors and likely suspect any free man or woman as a possible cover."
"But you don't think he will check the slaves." Began Don to understand and she nodded.
"The slaves are already assumed to be under total control and I don't think the Sorcerer King would ever consider that a supposed rival to his power would hide among them. I reckon that an absolute monarch at the top of the largest and most powerful nation in history couldn't even imagine living at the very bottom of the social order." Explained Astrid amused and although Don could see the logic he didn't understand how she could talk so easygoing about her gamble. Maybe she just had fun rubbing her stunt in his face.
"Maybe not him but didn't you consider his underlings? He has Thousands. Sooner or later one of those has to also check the ranks of the enslaved if just on the off-chance." Pointed Don out.
She chuckled. "I'm counting on it."
"'Care to explicate that allusion?"
"Nope."
"I thought so." sighed Don since he doubted he could coerce her outside of using violent force. "Were are we going, anyway? And where is Snot?"
Two and a half kilometers north-north-west of of Don's position at the royal stock exchange of Arwintar Snot took his time to imprint every last detail of the neo-classic building in his mind. He counted eight mighty pillars with gold hammered edges that ended in mighty bull heads that supported a flat ceiling high enough so even a giant wouldn't have needed to duck when entering. 9 stone bears the size of elephants growled in life like and each unique poses at would be guests of the house and Snot could see blinking lights, mostly blue, but also red and green, in the darker inside. Would he have been of the same race as his master he would have needed to swivel his head widely left and right to observe the giant monolith of a building in its entirety. Thankfully Snot was of fairer form than his master with his eyes properly bulging out to provide him a 330 degree vision except for a small angle behind his head saving him the trouble of having to constantly move his neck to follow his surroundings.
People of all races constantly moved up and down on the long but flat stairs leading to the exchange. Most moved calmly or determined but every few minutes Snot noticed exceptional individuals of radically different mannerism compared to the observed norm. Some cried and laughed manically, ballooned up their show bladders or hammered their chests and others looked and acted sick. They smelled of excrement and social olphactory signals and seemed to have lost their strength and sense of balance judging by the way they struggled to walk straight or even just keep standing. Snot could tell he was about to enter a dangerous lair and that he must not underestimate his quest.
His master depended on Snot as Astrid had assured him and he would turn a dead toadie before he would forget the seriousness of such an honor. He would not let nervousness or fear of failure allow to impact his efforts. Snot knew he was a universe away from approaching the battle skills of his master and lifetimes from fully comprehending the chivalrous code so he had to expect the possibility of failure. The master might have been unapproachable but Snot was in turn not. Others might have already overtaken him.
Maybe the hulking Manbear-Pig striding out of the stock trade in its black and red suite was a devious tactican who could defeat Snot before they had exchanged even one blow. Was the kobold lazily watching the teeming people from the top of a bear's head just relaxing in the warm sun or was he scouting for a group of pickpockets? What meat had been used for the filling of the dough bags he had eaten? The questions kept piling with each second and Snot felt himself start to panic despite his silent vow as he struggled to identify the most important issue to address first.
If he neglected his exit way he would jeopardize the profit of the whole operation so identifying and clearing risks on the plaza had to have significant merit but if he spent too much time on preparing the plaza he would have less time inside jeopardizing in turn his actual job rendering any actions to secure a possible profit moot. He would have to split his available time but in what relation? And who should he test first? The kobold on the bear? The Manbear-Pig or the Pigbear-Man now making out under an orange tree? What if they were in cahoots with the suspicious looking mare on the way here? Anyone knew the word of a horse couldn't be trusted which was why they tended to wear gag balls when in civilized society!
"Hey mister, are you okay?" Asked a dry corpse with long bound hair in an ancient noble dress sitting 2 meters in front of Snot. The once rich gold and yellow colors of his coat had paled to dull browns and looked thin and worn near the joints while the once probably white shirt and the high socks had acquired an uneven tone of used cigarette butts. The Skull looked human and the long whiskers clinging to the taut skin implied it had once been a man but the wolf like teeth and glowing horizontal slit eyes like a goats betrayed it as a [Baobhan-Sith-Ghoul], a rarer kind of undead Snot read about in one of the master's books. The lore said they were supposed to be cursed selfish lovers whose neglect damned their spouse. More importantly it said they were fairly weak and at most of level 10 or lower so it should prove no danger.
"Yes."
"You could have fooled me." Scratched the undead its temple with a brittle looking finger. "Standing around stiffer than even me for half an hour or so. I thought you were dead."
Snot knew how long he had been standing – 28.5 minutes – he was present the whole time and why should he waste energy on superfluous movement? He had a mission and wasting effort worked counter to his chances of success. "I was preparing."
"I see. So you want to make some quick money by betting on the stocks." Said the undead before raising a finger pregnant with meaning. "I don't know you and you don't know me but hear me out for just one advice: Turn back, now. You are not the first and you will certainly not be the last hopeful soul coming here with that idea and almost all leave broke and worse off than they had been before. You won't win here. The stock exchange is the worst kind of casino."
'Casino – a facility that houses and accommodate certain types of gambling activities' Recalled Snot a definition he read just a few days ago. Astrid hadn't informed him the stock exchange also offered such services but Snot had no interest in straying from his mission. He would follow his instructions and not waste precious time on games neither had he anything to gamble. All the items he wore were payed for or looted by the master, all the gold with him was given to him by Astrid and his service belonged to the his lord alone. "I have nothing to gamble."
"Then why did you come here? Are you waiting for someone?"
Should he answer? The thing acted friendly but one could never be sure. The safest approach would likely have been to kill it but the master had told him to do so only in great need when there was no other option to save the masters, his or Astrid's life or possessions. On the other hand telling a lie could lead to further complications while the truth would reveal minimal additional information to a possible enemy. "Yes."
It stared at him for half a minute and 4 sections. "You're not the talkative type, are you?"
"Yes."
"Is that a yes – your not a talkative type or a yes – you are a talkative type answer."
"No." It was not. It was his answer for the previous question.
"Now you have me completely confused!"
Maybe it had suffered damage to its mind due to some rot? The undead were supposed to be safe from truly suffering the ravages of time but why else, if not being stupid, would it fail to follow the logical order of question and answer? Maybe it was in need of help. Perhaps it lost its caretaker.
Snot felt his mouth water but he remembered his master's words and subdued his appetite. He would not die just from passing on an easy meal and undead tasted terrible, anyway. Instead for nutrition he would use it for information and guidance. It looked at ease in the chaotic environment, likely because it was familiar with it and as long as it was with Snot it would have a harder timer telling someone possibly more dangerous about him. "Can you show me to the registry?"
The undead tilted its and leaned forward with his arms leaning on its knees to look Snot closely in the face. "Eh? Shouldn't good manners dictate you introduce yourself before asking for such a service and what would you want at the registry if you have nothing to trade and no one to wait for?
You are a strange creature."
It was also a stranger to him but Snot saw no reason to point the obvious out and if it needed introduction before showing him to the registry, so be it. He placed his hand over his chest. "Good day. I am Tchischptalkopepnigahahahaga Prince. Can you show me to the registry?"
" Tchischptalkopnigahahaga Prince?" Twisted it its tongue almost into a knot failing pronounce it correctly."
" Tchischptalkopepnigahahahaga Prince" Repeated Snot.
" Tchischptalkopepnigahahaga-"
" Tchischptalkopepnigahahahaga Prince."
" Schischptalkopepnihahahahaga-"
" Tchischptalkopepnigahahahaga Prince! Tchischptalkopepnigahahahaga Prince! Tchischptalkopepnigahahahaga Prince! Tchischptalkopepnigahahahaga Prince! Tchischptalkopepnigahahahaga Prince!" Repeated Snot annoyed with its failure to learn a simple word. Hopefully the repetition would help it remember.
"Shut up!" Lounged instead the undead forward and clamped his cold and too small hand over his wide mouth. It didn't hurt but he was as keen on snuggling with it as he was with a master knew how long dead possum. "Shut the fucking hell up, you dense brick and listen!" Snarled the undead with bared fangs before it calmed down and let go of his lips with an almost embarrassed posture. "Just listen for a moment. Okay?"
Snot listened.
"Is that a yes or no? Did you understand my bidding?" Scratched it again its especially shiny temple . "Oh hell." It pointed at Snot. "We will call you Prince and you can call me Count Braison. You are obviously a fresh faced newbie and I am a trading veteran with almost unmatched experience. Such a coincidence must be a wink of fate and I would be an idiot to ignore it.
Snot felt flattered Count Braison had noticed he took good care of his skin but his boast didn't impress him. If his experience was just almost unmatched, it was by logic matched and matched experience was no exceptional asset. What was it thinking implementing that into is appliance? Idiot.
"I can feel it in my bones. We will accomplish great things together. With my guidance and your master's gold we will milk the fat cow. No need to turn into a salt pillar, my boy. Yes, I am aware you are carrying quite the amount of gold for your master with you and I know it because I can see now what none of the other suits here notice. Your armor, despite its- pardon the choice of words – decrepit appearance is actually very valuable, extremely valuable. It was a gift of your master and you are here to trade for him."
Maybe the undead was only partly handicapped if it was so observant but should Snot acknowledge it had guessed right? On the one hand he would potentially confirm an enemy's suspicion but if it already guessed and felt confident to tell Snot about it it would likely continue following on that assumption no matter what and worse – outside of Snot's control. He should answer truthfully and keep the thing in close proximity where he could see it while he would use its familiarity of the place using intellectual reservedness to bait it into revealing more than it intended. "Yes. Show me the registry."
"Splendid!" Clapped Braison in his hands and jumped for a moment giddily from foot to foot before remembering something and speaking calmer. "It is right this way, Prince, behind that mob of giant-kin, so it's no wonder you didn't find it." Pointed the undead to a group of ogres, trolls and a yeti in the entrance area of the hall. "Some days I could swear they are standing there on purpose just to scare off the newbies." Their equipment was downright pitiful, both in materials used and not existing enchantments - the yeti was even going full body commando - and should hardly prove more than a nuisance for a level 61 warrior as him but Snot could understand things might look different from the perspective of a mentally challenged undead. Hopefully with the setting sun it would get some stat boosts that affected its processing ability or Snot would have to replace it with something more intellectual but he hoped to avoid that extra hassle.
"Let us go." Went Snot straight for the shown direction seeing no reason to daddle further. "Hurry up and follow me!" shouted he back when he saw Braison remain in place in a slack position. Thankfully his explanation made it promptly straighten up and come after him but Snot had to wonder how Astrid and the master coped with the dim-witted.
Often with stoic resolve like when Don patiently endured a futile but savage all the same beating with a rolled newspaper. "You! Should! Be! A! Shamed! Of! Your! Self!" shouted a gray furred canine granny with a wack of the roll to his head for each syllable. "In! The! Mid! Dle! Of! The! Pub! Blic! And! On! A! Play! Ground! You! Are! A! Dis! Grace! And! A! Pervert! Worse! You! Are! De! Vi! Ant! You! Make! This! Old! Lady! Sick! And! Sad!"
"I am sorry. It wont happen again. It was an honest mistake." Spoke Don quite lackluster as he admitted himself but the old lady had been at it for 10 minutes and after she failed to acknowledge his explanation and apology and instead kept on hitting and blaming him Don had switched tactics and now hoped she would run out out stamina sooner than later since she was indeed an old lady with thin hair, bad tooth, a terrible blue kitty motive dress and way too much makeup. Would it really be murder if he gave her a little extra rise for her heart and save himself some time if there was reasonable chance he would gain him more than she would loose?
Stop. - Do not go further down that line of though.
"Why aren't you hitting on her? She was at least as much involved as I was." pointed he instead sideways to Astrid a few meters apart who was entertaining a pride of mix raced kids with the questionable handling of a baguette roll in its paper bag.
"AND! IN! FRONT! OF! THE! CHILDREN!" Expended the wolf lady her last energy reserves in an especially furious but still futile explosion before stumbling back from him and sitting down on a seesaw to catch her breath.
True, they had been on it when the children came to the playground and true, at the beginning they had enjoyed their stares and acknowledged them while happily continuing but only because he had thought they had been a flock of voyeurs gathering at their usual spots – it was the middle of the night and dark, for pete's sake, and some of them easily out-massed and out-grew him! From the outside it must have looked really bad and in hindsight it sounded really bad even to him. On a playground, in the middle of the public and under the enjoyed stares of dozens of strangers while they had a perfectly comfortable and private place just a spell away? Astrid really had a terrible influence over him.
Don went down to a squat to inspect the lady. Her piss yellow eyes were red and watery and a high and thin whistle escaped her mouth with each forced breath but still she focused him with just fury and exposed tooth stumps like a rabid dog. He started to become worried for real for the canine fearing she could actually have an incident if she didn't calm down and asked "Are you feeling well? Does your head, breast or lower back hurt or do you see double pictures? You don't look so good."
The slow whistling rate increased as she struggled to raise a twitching finger with a bright red blunt claw and heaved. "… shame…" before she almost collapsed and fell forward if Don hadn't caught and stabilized her. He carefully eased her to the ground and rested her back against the seesaw seat. He could still faintly hear her breaths and heart beat so she hadn't moved on yet but Don had no idea if that would stay that way or if he had to do something to prevent an avoidable death.
It surely would solve one of his problems but then, he feared, he would have to take care of the kids somehow or at least find an excuse how their kindergarten warden had passed and the old lady wasn't exactly in the wrong or acting selfishly. In a way Don respected her immensely for standing up to someone even at glance far more powerful and dangerous than her who seemed to not care for moral common sense and by that logic possibly her well-being as well.
But damn it, she was annoying so he stopped giving her smallest portions of healing potion when she started to breath stronger and settled into an exhausted nap. He left her and went over to the kids and Astrid who choose that moment to quickly wrap the baguette back in its paper and finish. "...and that is how new friends are made."
"Darling, cut the crap. All signs are pointing to the guilty." Said Don dryly when she began to welcome him with a suspiciously warm smile and he nodded at the tents of some of the more developed boys.
Found out she just rolled her eyes and pressed the bread in one of the girl's hands. "Honey, have you ever considered playing along just for the fun of it?"
For the fun of it? "You mean pointless nonsense for nonsense' sake, like a joke?"
For a moment he saw her face go slack and an eye twitch before she rubbed her nose base and sighed "Kind of." Don didn't know what he had done wrong. Had he not summed up her request correctly? She knew she had been lying, he knew she had been lying and she knew he knew she had been lying as he was by now used to her lying so why would she even be trying lying to him if not as a joke?
"She wants to play with you, you dullard!" Called a scrawny human boy in between tooth sets with a bold, virulent laugh. Don did not mind getting laughed at by children. They lacked experience and mental development to be expected to act morally sensible and maybe they had a point. Maybe he had become indeed too tense and forgot to have some light heart and nonsense was preferable to quips aimed at him. Relaxing and going along with it sometimes could really improve his life.
But relaxing and letting his guard down had let him into a death trap. And slavery. And perversion by association. Relaxing and letting his guard down was dangerous. It was stupifying risky, next time he would probably awake in an ice water bucket with a fresh scar above his hip and something sticking where it didn't belong! Relaxing and letting his guard down was the last thing he should do!
"Even after hearing whatever frightening graphic description this woman has given you…" Said Don to the kid. "You don't know the half of it."
"But we could show them."
They left at once, him on his feet and her carried in his arms.
Once had left the playground and a handful of blocks behind in a blur he finally slowed down to a pace mortal eyes could follow. The streets had been mostly deserted by now. Only some late stragglers and drunks and the occasional guard passed them as he walked under the magically lit lanterns. With the clear, star sprinkled sky above and the bright moon peeking between the rooftops it was quite the romantic scenery and Don could have almost sworn he heard a fiddle in the distance play a passionate but sensual melody.
"Head for that carriage parked in the alley entrance, Honey. We should be out of sight behind it." pointed out Astrid. Don pointedly ignored her and walked past it.
"But not out of earshot. Are you trying to provoke another scene on purpose?"
"I would never." Said Astrid with audible indignation which he didn't buy into.
"Aha, right. You see, Darling, other spouses would opt to enjoy such a night with a nice walk together and some heart to heart, share their feelings about their relationship and work upon it. They confess little secrets, exchange heartfelt niceties and enjoy the simple pleasure of the others company." Suggested Don and hopefully looked down to her with soft smile which withered under her blank stare.
"You lost me there. Now take a turn around for the alley."
"You don't have a single romantic bone in you, do you?"
"I've got a lovely boner for you if you'd finally turn around." Urged she and reached with a hand into his shirt to cradle his chest.
Don adjusted his grip and pulled her other hand from his belt buckle. "Not happening tonight, Darling. I'm not in the mood anymore and why can't we teleport home instead of desecrating public landmarks? It would be even faster than searching for frankly just uncomfortable hideouts."
"Fine. I'll gate us back from that alley, so please turn around. I am starting to get the shakes."
"Didn't you hear me? I said I'm done for tonight. That means no more making love to you."
"I'm almost inclined to agree when you say it like that. Almost."
"No. Sex." Kept Don stubbornly walking on in the general direction of the royal stock exchange. Astrid didn't accept his refusal as easily as he hoped but didn't expect.
"But I've hadn't had my fill! Protested she and struggled to push her hand he didn't held between them to reach his pants but Don held her still in an iron grip preventing her from reaching her favorite chewing toy.
"I've stuffed you this night alone so much any woman should be satisfied for months so you can whine as much as you like, Darling. It wont change my mind. All I'm gonna do is pick up Snot, head home and hit the bunk. I feel wasted."
"From that little sparring in the arena?" asked she incredulously.
"From wading hip deep through the fallout of your antics!" Snarled Don agitated before remembering his manners and explaining calmer. "Maybe you forgot but I didn't exactly have a great day."
"So I shouldn't have one, too?"
"No, I just want you to consider the stress you are putting me through! In the span of not even a day I have been showered in shit, entrails, every kind of the bodily fluid and a veritable shit storm, thanks in no small part to you. It's not the physical but the mental strain that is getting to me." Tried Don to put his feelings into words without hurting her feelings. "I can still taste the ink on my lips."
"Mine tastes far better, if you would like to try. My bar is open." Teased Astrid with a suggestive rub down her crotch.
"I am all too aware." Said Don while suppressing a shiver. "But did you listen to what I said?"
"I heard what you said." Evaded she a straight answer which Don had learned by now meant 'Yes, I listened to you and I don't care.'. "Now that's sorted out can we please concentrate on the important matters?"
"Your rabid libido?" Asked Don defeated.
"Our healthy libido, Honey. You may cry and whine like a sissy but the the truth is you are loving it just as much as I to fornicate. Don't embarrass yourself by trying to deny it." He had to admit their sex life was beyond fantastic but could it make up for all the complications that came with it? "And the only one stressing you out is yourself."
Come again?
" He stared at her. She stared at him. He continued to stare at her. She continued to stare at him. He lowered his brow. She lowered her brow. He tensed his lips. She tensed her lips. He blinked. She barked. "And you are stressing me out! You have no idea of the twist and turns I have to take to accommodate your brain farts into what would otherwise be a relaxed hobby!"
"Relaxed Hobby! Brain Farts!?" He didn't even grasp what she was talking about but he got enough to understand that "brain farts" was not a kind paraphrasing of his intellectual gifts and how could she not understand he was the overflowing bucket to her asshole! "You're not just full of shit, you are frigging insane! You actually think this, our day to day survival is a breeze! Just how can you be so full of yourself!" He never wrote that into her background! Why did she acquire that character trait when everything else about her were in sinc. with it?
She pressed her lips and angrily hit his chest with her bare hands, causing him some mildest pain. "It would be if you'd just stay in your proper place!"
Like a dog?
He dropped her. "I am not your fucking pet! I am not your fucking pet! This relationship-" he pointed at them in turns. "-has a problem! I am not your Snot, get it?"
Why does she become pale all the sudden? Wondered Dorn as Astrid indeed turned chalk.
"What have you done to that poor boy?"
Oh no.
Did she understand…
"I have and would never!" denied Don on instinct.
"Oh thank you all that is good." let she escape a deep scared breath. "For one second I thought…" She regained some color and chuckled embarrassed. Astrid swept her hand over her lowered face, pulling back a strand behind her ear. "How silly of me. I am sorry for suggesting you could ever do something so vile while I know better. I interpreted your words too literally while I was still agitated from our fight. The truth is all I want is to find some common ground. I love you and our fights hurt my feelings more than I probably show. How... How do you feel?"
She sounded said and in the cracks of the spotless, charming smile he could spot the weariness and pain. Their bickering hurt her too, perhaps even more than the truth hurt his pride. He had crawled into a victim role and resigned himself to blaming his every misfortune on his wife. It had been an easy way to find a theoretical solution to all his problems: get revenge on the one responsible, in his case Astrid. He couldn't out-rule he missed such signs before and how much more must it have hurt her with every time he did it? Was he really the one who should call out for justice? "Darling, I feel overwhelmed by the turns my life has taken the past days since we've come. I barely get time to stomach my latest adventure before the next one starts and it's getting too much. I want to spent my free time with you and provide you with all you need.
Feeling guilty for his unanounnced drop he went to his knee and offered her his hand for support like a true gentlemen. "At the same time I fear losing what makes me me as an entity of its own. If I never have a true choice to affect my path and only ever walk the tracks you have chosen for me, even in best intent, than what will remain of Don Idmee, the man you fell in love with?"
Astrid's faint smile died and the moment she coldly regarded his offered hand seemed to stretch on forever. Don could metaphorically see the gears in her head turn in flickering speed so he spoke before her labyrinthine thoughts could reach a bad end. "Room on my own also means room on you own. Think of it as time where I won't get in your way and you can get items sorted without having to worry about me."
"But I worry about you all the time." She decided to hold his gaze instead of his hand. "And the thought of having you out of my sight scares me to death. I understand your need for freedom all too well, but does it really compare to the fear you expose me to when I worry for you. Just the idea that one day you won't return because I didn't pay attention makes me… it makes me." Word for word he stoic facade crumbled while the first fine streams flowed from her eyes till the anxiety strangled her. Don couldn't help himself but pull her in a tight embrace.
Even after all she had done to him he still held on to the hope she did it out of a weird sense of love for him. He had every good reason to be fed up with her but could justify to willingly cause her pain? Despite the mistreatment she never abandoned him, made it quite clear she wouldn't ever consider it, even, and her hinted at fear of being alone fit perfectly her background. Maybe Don was just witnessing the first time Astrid spoke honestly to him and he wouldn't waste this possilbly first step into a healthy relationship by clinging on to his suspicions and recollection of their spent together time tinted by his self-pity and anger. "Shhhhh…" Hushed he her crying and rocked her gently in his arm. "I Won't be going anywhere. I will always return to you, my Darling, so there is no need to cry. It'll all be good, you'll see."
"How can you make that promise? What makes you so sure?" Cried she into his shoulder "You are just one human and your enemies are so many-!"
"But I am not helpless. I am talented warrior with envied strength. It should be I looking after you not the other way, Darling. I should be worried sick for you, not you for me."
"But how can I be sure?" Calmed her sobs at least to snivels and Don loosened his tight hold on her. When Astrid slightly pulled back she looked at him with puffy, sad eyes and wet cheeks. "I have your binding promise you'll always return to me but what of your enemies? They don't care about the excruciating pain they are causing me by harming you and if worst comes to happen I'll only have myself to blame cause I wasn't watching you back."
"I understand your feelings, Darling, but breathing down my neck isn't the solution." Stressed out Don for he feared they were turning circles. He grasped her hands in his as a silent promise he would stay. "It will only drive me away, so can you think of another way to ensure my safety while still giving me some space, so we both can live satisfied with it?"
"Well, I could use divination magic to keep track of you and your health, I thought of that too…"
"But?"
"But there are certain ways to track it and I can't out-rule the chance the Sorcerer King knows of some of them."
"Turning them into a home-in beacon, I understand. So Divination magic isn't an option to calm your nerves." Acknowledged Don but Astrid must gotten a new idea, for she seemed lost in thought for a moment, before she said.
"Maybe they still are. Normal divination magic would be too risky, but if I bound it to an item I know of no way how to track it. That should be safe."
Like a tin can telephone opposed to an openly transmitted signal? Don was just glad he could follow her thoughts for once and nodded, happy to have found a solution for the their predicament. "But that's excellent, isn't it? So go ahead and make one."
She scowled at him, but it was clear to Don she did it not because she had been annoyed by him but because she was concentrating. "Hold on, Honey. It's an easy task but it still needs some vital considerations.
"Such as?"
"I know the perfect spells but we haven't talked about the nature of the item or where you would wear it, for it will need to be worn close by you. If I'd chose a ring you would have to give up the use of one of your old ones."
"And we don't want that." Chimed in Don understanding.
"Not if we don't want drop your safety levels even further, so no rings."
"What about a talisman or a small token I could put in my pockets when leaving you?" Suggested Don but she shook her head.
"No, something like that could be easily stolen without you noticing before it's too late and what if you have to leave in a hurry like in an emergency? Can you guarantee me you will think of it when lives are at stake?"
"Darling, I promised you-" Attempted Don to remind her he would never leave her but she she stopped him from speaking further with a finger to his lips. She sounded resigned...
"Don't lie and tell me you would turn back when you good heart forces you into action. I know you better than yourself Don, that's why I love you. That's why I know you couldn't hold onto that specific promise even if you wished to with all your heart." ...Yet at the same time proud. Her finger lifted up his lips and her hand instead began to caress his cheek. "My man is too much of man to sit idly by when the call to action sounds."
Don had not considered himself a hero before, or even a noteworthy good person that is. With his gifted power he felt confident to step forward if injustice presented itself to him but he never actively tried to route out evil . For most of the time till know he had just tried to get by day by day but having Astrid speak out her confidence in his character ignited a new burning desire in him to live up to her expectations. The expressed trust and the warm hand on his face felt incredibly soothing, like his ego had been roaming a desert for years and finally found a clear spring.
"What do you think of a necklace around your neck? I could make it so one could force you to take it off." Asked Astrid while he closed his eyes and let her wash away the mental fatigue with a soft strokes behind his ears and his neck.
"Perfect, but please don't make it gaudy. I would prefer something simple that won't stick out."
"I know, Honey. Trust me." Soothed Astrid while Don became so relaxed under her touch he could have fallen asleep where he stood. He noticed a brief flash of light behind his closed eye lids and heard her say. "I'll be just what you've been missing." Her hand stopped scratching his ear and he was about to growl disappointed about it but then he noticed a band of leather tighten around his neck and a metallic click behind his head and just the right way tickling strokes through his hair made him forget any protest he might had considered. "You are a good man, Don. You are mine."
Thanks for reading another chapter. I hope you had fun with it. I have been busy the past weeks with work and finishing a another overlord fic in my native tongue. Its a side project I keep working on for when I need a break from my main project.
From trying myself at OL Fanfics I learned that often times I start a story with a character I thought cool at the beginning only to realize after a few 10k words he/she is either too powerful for any dramatic arc or I got tired of them, because they are too far away from human nature and get really hard to relate too or write convincing but in Don and Company's case I feel confident to have finally evaded that problem and having created a character I coan use time and again in both episodic chapters and in arcs without getting tired of them. Its a tricky thing to create likable buffoon but not to slide into H.J. Simpson's levels of supidity and ignorance but I feel its way more enjoyable than reading the 100th times of a perfect hero(in) acing the New World. How do you feel?