Interlude II
They were going to die, and she knew it. The magical barrier had been broken, Zarthir was unconscious after being thrown with such force, and Faeren had both arms dislocated due to the enormous force required to move that titanic monstrosity. Of the three Valeria was the only one who remained standing, albeit barely.
The dark mage was leaning on her own magic staff, breathing deeply. The exhaustion of having conjured that teleportation spell still had a profound effect on her, and all the effort and pain she had gone through had only made it worse. Her vision was beginning to blur, but she fought to stay awake. Passing out would possibly be the best option, as she would not have to be forced to stay awake while being incinerated to death by the energy cannons of that beast-machine, but her loyalty to her companions prevented her from doing so. Even if it was a pointless and futile act, she could not help but seek a way to save them all.
"Beneath the skies, through the winds, let us travel under the sight of the sun," she began to whisper in despair.
She did not have the energy to cast a necessary teleportation spell, but at such times she had no choice. Even if she was going to die, she preferred to do so having given one last effort.
"As silent as the breeze, as swift as the light, make us travelers without bounds," she continued to whisper as she closed her eyes, already listening as those energy cannons began to charge.
Valeria could feel tears escaping from her eyes as she uttered that spell in vain. Her life as a mamono had been a short one, barely living a few decades in her new body after being converted. She still remembered her previous life, when she was still a magician of the court of Lescatie raised under the lies of the Order, lies she had spent her whole life believing until that visit to the ancient ruins. Her coexistence with the mamono of those ruins and her encounter with Druella was what allowed her to discover the truth not only about the world, but also about herself. She fondly remembered that special day, when she used that sword to abandon her humanity and become what she was always meant to be.
"T-the darkness will be no obstacle, the stars will b-be our witnesses, a-and the earth itself our g-guardian," Valeria began to falter with fear.
There was so much she had wanted to do. She had dreamed of exploring the world, of being able to see with her own eyes what her formerly sickly human body had prevented her from doing, to be able to show her appreciation to Druella in a proper way, and most of all to be able to find a partner, someone to love.
Valeria's body began to betray her, trembling with dread at the threat of death in front of her. Soon she found herself unable to continue uttering the spell, finally succumbing to exhaustion and falling to her knees on the floor, already resigned to the fate that awaited her and her companions.
"Hey!" a male voice shouted from afar.
Valeria opened her eyes, seeing to her surprise that the strange human was running towards them with his weapon in his grip. She had really thought that the human had used them as mere cannon fodder and was going to leave them to die, but seeing him come to their rescue made her feel new hope.
"M-my Grognak," Zarthir mused as she struggled up from the ground.
The dark mage looked with surprise at the demoness, who had surprisingly managed to wake up from what would easily have been a terrible concussion, all because of the arrival of her beloved. Although Valeria was petrified by the demon's sick obsession with that strange and disturbing human they had barely met, she had to admit that she felt some jealousy. Her leader had found something she herself had been searching for a long time, and while the demon's feelings were twisted and creepy, the dark mage could not help but feel a certain envy.
SLASH
The resounding of a powerful cut echoed down the hallway. That man had succeeded in decapitating the mechanical monstrosity, although far from feeling relieved, the dark mage was horrified to see how a powerful shockwave began to emanate from the remains of the creature. They were close to the blast area, unable to escape.
"Across distant provinces, through territories to be seen, in dimensions unknown!" Valeria said hastily.
The dark mage tried to cast the spell as soon as possible, but it was in vain, for soon the shockwave hit them head-on in a matter of seconds. She thought it was the end for them when she saw that bright energy in front of her, so she instinctively raised her magic staff high in the air to defend herself.
"Lady Druella," she murmured in what she believed would be her last words.
Unexpectedly, the magic staff began to absorb some of that powerful energy, but more surprisingly Zarthir's tribal war-axe also seemed to respond to the influx of energy. Soon the two weapons were connected by a luminous loop of magical energy, generating a reaction so powerful that it quickly created a mighty light that engulfed the three.
The three Royal Demon Realm agents disappeared in the blink of an eye.
The last week had been an overwhelming one for the orc tribe. They had lost nearly half of their warriors in the failed raid, and the damage to morale they had received from seeing their chieftain being defeated and subdued was one from which they could never recover. So much so that not only did they free the slaves they had caught in the raid, but upon returning to camp they had let go of all the slaves they had gathered over the years, no longer able to feel any kind of attraction or need for them.
The once enthusiastic and wild orcs were now a mere empty husk of what they once were, only motivated to hunt for food. Feasts and banquets no longer took place, and music was a distant memory. Their lives were now gray and pitiful, but undoubtedly the one who suffered worst of all was their leader, Urga, who since what had happened in the village had shut herself up in her own tent, only coming out on a few very rare occasions.
"Boss, please come out, you need to eat," one of the orcs pleaded as she tried to enter the tent with a plate of food.
"Get out!" Urga shouted.
The orc ran away, squealing in terror. Her instinctive obedience to her superior was stronger than her concern.
"All of you... leave me alone," the high orc said between deep breaths.
Her appearance had become haggard after last week. She barely slept, so dark circles had formed under her eyes, and lack of food and bathing had contributed to her neglected and pitiful appearance. Guilt and regret flooded her mind, making it impossible for her to rest at night. She could still hear the screams of that night, and the mutilated bodies of her girls appeared in front of her every time she closed her eyes, to the point where she had begun to seriously consider tearing off her eyelids.
Her mental health was in a deplorable state, because all the hatred and resentment she felt for what happened that night was not directed at the perpetrator, but at herself. She blamed herself for what had happened, she replayed the same scenario over and over again in her mind trying to think of some way to have prevented such a massacre, and worst of all, she could not see herself capable of directing any negative feelings at the man in dark armor. He who was responsible for annihilating half of her tribe, who had humiliated her and stripped her of her pride, she was incapable of hating him. Moreover, the urgent and instinctive need to see him again gripped her.
Her nature as a high orc forced her to become subservient to anyone who defeated her, a process that affected her mind and body at the same time. The person she once was had been completely eradicated the moment she fell to the ground in defeat, turned into something she herself had difficulty recognizing. She wanted to see him again, to be at his side, to obey his every command, to surrender her body to him, all the while knowing that he was the same man who had slaughtered her tribe.
Urga found herself thinking obsessively about that particular village, wishing with all her heart to go so that she could find this man and place herself at his command, but the first and only command he had given her was never to put a foot inside the village ever again, a command that lay permanently imprinted in her brain, being impossible for her to disobey it. That didn't matter anyway, for all the times she had left the tent and gotten close enough to the village to be able to detect the scent of him had ended in failure. She spent days searching the forest, the mountains, and the surroundings of that village, but failed to find his scent. The man had disappeared, and she had no idea where he might be.
"I want to see you..." she whispered, surprising herself.
The feelings she had for that mysterious man were confused and contradictory, almost as if her own mind was in a constant battle to decide which side was right. Her nature as a high orc imposed her obedience and submission to the one who had defeated her, but her own morality wanted to force her to condemn and seek revenge for the one who had hurt her so much. These conflicting thoughts and needs gave her a headache, so she was forced to sit in her hammock and rub her temples in an attempt to relax.
Urga sat there, conflicted, with her eyes closed and not knowing what to do.
FLASH
Without warning, a powerful light manifested in front of her, being as bright and blinding as the sun itself. The high orc jumped out of the hammock, striking a defensive pose while covering her eyes with her arm.
"What is this?!" Urga cried out.
Strong wind currents began to manifest inside the tent, even moving the formidable high orc. Everything finally culminated with a powerful shockwave that ended up causing the destruction of the tent, generating a powerful roar that resounded in the mountains and even in the forest of Lamilla.
"Boss!"
The orcs surrounded their leader, looking disturbed and panicked when they saw that the high orc did not wake up. A mysterious explosion had taken place in the leader's tent, one so powerful that it had left behind a crater.
"Healer, we need the healer!" one of the orcs exclaimed. "Where is Helena?!"
"She has been missing for a week together with Pira!" another orc answered her. "Do you not remember? We have been looking for them for days!"
The orcs were shouting at each other, confused and not knowing what to do without the guidance of their leader, but soon among the cries of panic and desperation a cough could be heard, one that quickly silenced them.
"B-boss!"
The high orc was struggling to get up from the ground, coughing loudly and desperately searching for air, but she was alive. The orcs quickly surrounded their leader, weeping with relief and happiness.
"W-what happened?" asked Urga between coughs.
"We are not sure. When we arrived your tent had been destroyed and you were hanging from a tree unconscious," one of the orcs began to explain. "Right now there are a few guarding the crater that was left, although there is something unknown in the bottom."
Urga gave her a confused look. "Is there 'something'? Why the hel have you not come down to see what it is?"
Urga's voice denoted aggressiveness, something that caused the orc in question to start trembling in terror, with small tears forming in her eyes.
"T-there is a powerful demonic energy down there, w-we are afraid to get close," she explained as she lowered her gaze, unwilling to make eye contact.
The high orc sighed with annoyance. "Useless."
Urga pushed aside the worried orcs, walking steadily, though still weakly, toward the crater that was once her personal tent. She ignored the warrior women who tried to warn her not to approach, walking down the crater until she reached the bottom, feeling that powerful demonic energy her subordinates talked so much about.
At the bottom of the crater was a remnant of tent fabric covering something emanating a powerful demonic energy. Even she began to sweat from the powerful pressure she felt in the air. Finally she grabbed the rest of the tent and lifted it up, revealing what was underneath.
"What in Lilith's name…"
To her surprise, she found three mamono extremely injured. A dark elf with her arms in a terrible state, a fainted dark mage, and a demon who barely managed to stay alive, being semi-conscious. To the surprise of the high orc, these mamono carried the insignia of the Fourth Princess, and due to the demonic power emanating from the demoness, it was easy to assume that they were not just any group of strays.
That group was covered by all kinds of wounds, to the point that it was impressive that they were still breathing, although what most attracted the attention of the high orc was that war-axe that the demon had clutched in her hand. She knew that design well, for it was one specific to her tribe, the one she had inherited when she acquired the tribe's mandate. It was her personal axe, the one she had lost that fateful night.
Urga knelt down to take a closer look at that axe, and just as she did so she could smell a certain stench coming from the weapon. It was a manly scent, the same one she had memorized when she was pinned to the ground, a smell she had become obsessed with sniffing again.
"And you'd better not set foot in this town again in your life."
The man's words echoed in her mind. There was no doubt, that was his scent, that axe had been in his possession. It was the same axe he had taken from her after defeating her, and therefore, it was a possible clue that could lead her to his current whereabouts. Such a possibility brought a small smile to her lips, the first sign of happiness she had shown all week.
Without a second's hesitation the high orc rushed to grab the war-axe, but no sooner had she done so than her wrist was abruptly and violently grabbed by the demoness, who despite her weakened state somehow had the strength to prevent her from grabbing the weapon.
"Keep your filthy hands... away from the gift of my beloved Grognak," the demoness muttered venomously.
Urga was surprised by that. Not only by the impressive will of the demoness, but by hearing that name.
"Grognak?" she asked. "Is that his name?"
A/N: I wanted to thank you for all the support you, my readers, have given this story. I didn't expect such a bizarre idea to be so well received, and I must say that it has been quite fun to write and think of possible ideas and themes for such a curious and unusual crossover.
In 2022 I plan to make the updates more regular, so I thank you for your patience. There are also several arcs coming in the future, so expect them in advance.
You are welcome to leave your opinions and comments regarding the story, as I always read each one and take into account your criticisms and suggestions.
Without further ado, here are the new stats:
"Saphirette."
Full name: Saphirette Spherica.
Race: Human.
Alias: Glassies.
Age: 29 years old.
Height: 5 '4.
Originally an orphan girl from the slums of a town in Polove, Saphirette managed to become through hard work and dedication into a renowned and respected scholar and a superb elementalist, being considered one of the most skilled of her generation. Far from using her newly acquired social position for personal gain, Saphirette has worked for years to save her homeland, which has suffered for decades from a deteriorating ecosystem.
Thanks to the Courier's help, Saphirette has managed to stop the ecocide that the mysterious ruins were causing on her land, but at the cost of having lost the artifact needed to bring life back to Polove. Despite this, Saphirette is still determined to turn her nation into a green and healthy land, so now she is looking for other ways to achieve it.
A shy and somewhat weak-willed woman, Saphirette is more concerned with helping others than herself, which has caused her to lead a lonely life and be susceptible to abuse from others. Despite being somewhat fearful of the Courier due to his unhinged attitude, she has shown some interest in the secrets he brings with him, so for the time being she finds herself associated with him. She has also developed a certain friendship with Sofiva, possibly the first sincere relationship she has had in years.
SPECIAL:
Strength: 4.
Perception: 7 (2 without glasses)
Endurance: 4.
Charisma: 5.
Intelligence: 8.
Agility: 4.
Lucky: 7.
Karma: Very Good.
Skills:
Barter: 75.
Speech: 65.
Medicine: 60.
Science: 100.
Melee weapons: 30.
Unarmed: 25.
Sneak: 50.
Survival: 90.
Repair: 70.
Destructive Magic: 75.
Protective Magic: 80.
Illusion Magic: 20.
Alteration Magic: 30.
Healing Magic: 60.
Perks:
Earth, Wind & Fire.
Educated.
"The Machine."
Full name: Soon to be known.
Race: Automaton/AI.
Alias: Soon to be known.
Age: Unknown, but hundreds of years old.
Height: Currently has no physical body.
A mysterious AI that has operated in the ancient ruins of Polove for hundreds of years, faithfully waiting for her "Master". She originally sought to eradicate the Courier and company for invading her home, but after being defeated and having a long conversation with the Courier she has decided to accompany him and inhabit his Pip-Boy, all with the goal of exploring the surface world and finding some trace that will help her discover her creator's current whereabouts.
With a cold and distant personality, the AI only shows affection for her original creator, feeling little more than indifference and even rejection for the outside inhabitants, whom she considers savages. Centuries of isolation have had certain effects on her, among them the suffering of monophobia, feeling an irrational terror of loneliness, not to mention a fervent xenophobia for all the inhabitants of the outside world.
For unknown reasons she knows the music of the pre-War world, having knowledge that only someone from the world of the Courier could have, being something that has provoked massive interest from him. Likewise she finds herself intrigued by the Courier, as he shares the same type of spiritual energy as her Master, a fact that should normally be impossible. Because of this both are willing to overcome previous grudges and cooperate together to uncover each other's secrets and determine the truth.
SPECIAL:
Strength: 4.
Perception: 9.
Endurance: 8.
Charisma: 2.
Intelligence: 10.
Agility: 6.
Luck: 4.
Karma: Neutral.
Perks:
Sky in the Net.
Computer Whiz.