Olrica

??Mar?D, ?ete????ty

It took us like, a week, but eventually we cleared Miner's Nightmare. It took Hadrian entirely too long to figure out how the hell we were supposed to stop The Nightmare from regenerating itself every time we destroyed it, and this is after dying repeatedly to Trophytaker. But on the bright side, the little shit dropped one of his daggers, and I got first dibs on the prize.

Not looking forward to paying that smarmy prick, Jushu for his 'generous' services to get it appraised after the little bastard locked out The Failed Mage's Regret and cut off the supply of Identification consumables. I'm honestly mindboggled that Hadrian is so insistent on sticking around in this dead-end starter zone - it's been a month already and we still haven't gotten to Level 10, while those Forgiveness meatheads are already pushing 20.

Smart money would be to pull up roots and move down there, but he won't hear of it. Completely obsessed with being the one to get this Magpie Demon quest finished so he can set himself up as the lord of this shithole. Better the King of a pile of shit than a peasant in a house made of gold, in his eyes.

Finding Jushu is easy enough. Just follow the sounds of angry yelling and smug laughter.

Today, like the other days, Jushu sits behind his ramshackle wooden stall, a sick grin plastered across his face, with a pair of Wolf Hunt players arguing against the ridiculous price he's no doubt demanding from them.

"What's the matter?" The arrogant Kon mocks, "Can you not pay 2 Stone Gold? Do you not want your item? Didn't you sacrifice dozens of people to get this rare drop from Ujax forest's monsters?"

"We need that money to recoup our losses!" The woman in charge of the pair yells, "You just charged 70 Stone Silver for the last person!"

"Not my problem~" Jushu laughs, his eyes flashing in recognition after spotting me moving through the crowd of spectators, "Ahhh, a return customer. Excellent."

"What do you want?" I deadpan.

"1 Stone Gold, for a loyal dog," the greedy shit states magnanimously.

I pay the price immediately and leave with the unlocked weapon before I get dragged into Wolf Hunt's argument.

I click my tongue, and head over to Stone Arsenal to check in on Henna's Quest - I think something like this should count towards her Inspiration, right? She liked the Terrorstone I brought her quite a bit.

My mood improves as I imagine the delight on her face.

The shop isn't busy, but some rando is working the forge under her supervision, learning the Blacksmith trade under the new crafting system. Some Newborn Firm or whatever. A Kon is also present, sharpening a Beginner's Bronze Shortsword on the grinding wheel, utterly focused on the task.

"Steady with the bellows, don't crush them or you'll blast sparks everywhere," Henna berates him.

"Y-yes, sorry," the dude breathes heavily as he works.

"Henna! We're back from the expedition - I've got myself a new toy to play with~" I greet her bombastically.

The smith frowns a little at the interruption of her lesson, but acknowledges me tersely, "Hello, Olrica. Did you get any more of that strange ore?"

"Sure did, but I got something even better," I unsheathe the Trophytaker's Dagger, "Tada!"

Henna's eyes fixate on the blade, and even when I slowly move it side to side, her gaze follows it like a kitten and a laser pointer. So cute.

"...Can I see that blade?" she asks after close to a minute of staring. Happy to oblige, I deftly flip the blade and offer her the hilt.

The smith takes her time to inspect the knife from every angle, digging her fingernails into the glowy bits and tapping it with a hammer, a soft smile held throughout the process. Just as happy as when I first brought some Terrorstone here to figure out what the fuck it was.

Finally, Henna returns the dagger to me, satisfied and still smiling, "Thank you, friend."

---

 

??%£?, ???et??it

 

 

 

"GIVE HIM BACK!" Henna roars, hammering into the still corpse of Geronil with shaking fists, "GIVE BACK MY DAD YOU BASTARD!"

We're all too exhausted from the battle to consider restraining the hysterical blacksmith, Hadrian looks more irritated than anything, and the others were never all that invested in her personal story to begin with. For me though, my heart goes out to the poor woman, bloodied and brutalised for a straight week before we were able to take the bastard down through the mountain of contingencies he'd set up in expectation of The Empire finding about him.

"Henna...he's already dead. Geronil can't answer you anymore, now please be quiet," Hadrian finally snaps, mustering enough indignation to yank her hair back to pull her off the body, "I realise that you're distressed, but you're accomplishing nought but giving the rest of us a headache on top of our existing one."

Henna glares death at him, but complies. As much as I wish to step in, I'm still an employee of the douchecastle.

Letting go of her, Hadrian clears his throat, no doubt readying himself for a grand speech about how great his leadership is, and to thank us for bringing him the victory he's so richly deserving of. We will go to ever greater heights under him and blah blah blah. Same shit, different day, is what I think, ready to check out of the whole affair when a heavy Presence descends upon the area, centred upon him.

The suffocating aura of malice and possessiveness lasts for a good thirty seconds, then dissipates. At once, the earth shakes, rumbling and cracking beneath our feet. Distant yelling and screaming from distressed NPCs and players are drowned out by the vibrations.

 

 

"Looks like we aren't done, yet," Generous Morning remarks blithely.

---

 

T?e???agp??so??, ???ande???d

"So, hey, we're here. Brought Henna like you asked," I nod to Hadrian.

"Good," He smiles, "Henna, thank you for coming. We're about to confront the one ultimately responsible for your father's demise, it only felt appropriate that you be present for this as well."

Henna bows her head, "Thanks for your consideration."

I pat her shoulder, "Come on, let's go kick the shit out of a demon."

The smith lets go of a small chuckle, "A sentiment I can agree with, friend."

We descend into ??%"af5

fhsa7478934quuh'oj

---

 

Amongst the remains of the demon's perfectly preserved macabre 'collection' of Panoplasts and gaudy valuables, the last of us falters under the weight of the demon's suffocating Presence, unable to move, much less damage the boss, even after pouring every last one of our trumpcards into the effort.

The voice enters our minds without resistance, "How...amusing. Newborn barely taking their First Step toward Truth seek to harm me? Truly entertaining. And oh, what a rarity you all are. Heroes have ever made for excellent conversation pieces, I find."

It doesn't feel like he's even putting us in his eyes.

"You, though. I feel it, your ambition, your hunger to own and dominate. What say you to an inconsequential bargain? Become my new Beak, and I will grant you strength to achieve those lavish indiscretions...You need only agree to give me the other half of a set that's been woefully incomplete for some time now," Arevas addresses Hadrian directly, the Presence lessening on him.

The shitstain doesn't even hesitate, "I agree!"

I can only watch in horror as the prone Henna is dragged screaming by my Guildmaster forward, slowly terrifying. The tendril of presence leaking from the crystalline prison slowly reaches down to pull her up, then gently places her down in an empty spot amongst the rows of statues, "Ahhh, satisfaction...."

"Henna! I'm sorry, it's my fault for bringing you here!" I cry out, the last thing I see through my watering eyes is the utter betrayal in my friend's face, accusing me.

But amongst all the members of Rambling Rose present, it appears that I'm the only one who cares.

---

 

Cells B4, City Jail, Meteo City

"Hold on a moment, Henna, my teammate just collapsed," I quickly inform her, rushing over to the crumpled assassin, I look around, wary for any enemies that I might have missed. But nothing of the sort seems to be at fault, at least, nothing physically present. A mental attack, perhaps? How?

Kneeling down, I try my level best to shake Olrica awake, wary of the barely 30 minutes we have left to get Henna and Trom out of their cells. No matter how I shake or cajole her, nothing seems to work, so, out of ideas, I dump the contents of one of my stored waterskins over her face.

"FUCK YOU HADRIAN YOU TRAITOROUS COCKGOBBLING WEASEL!" Olrica starts awake, spouting a familiar-sounding insult, swinging her fist at me before realising I'm not Hadrian King.

"Are you quite alright?" I ask, concerned, "What happened?"

Taking a few breaths to calm herself, Olrica pushes herself up to a sitting position, "I...don't really know. It's like a really vivid dream was just forced into my head."

I feel my breath catch. Is this?

"Was it...a memory of some sort?" I hedge.

"Ow, yeah. God, it feels like my head is on fire," Olrica rubs her head, "Dreamt I was friends with Henna and we killed the guy who runs the Pioneers Allliance after he went postal."

Oh. It is. She's an Inheritor.

I grab her shoulder on impulse, "Tell me everything you saw."

"Why?" Olrica looks a little intimidated, "Do you have some interest in dream visions of other people or whatever? Is that what you're into?"

Digging deep into my memories I try to recall the recording of the argument she had with the officers of Rambling Rose in Tridor Square, "Does the sentence, 'Get over yourself, Olrica, it was a fair deal that benefited us greatly', ring a bell?"

The assassin's jaw slackens, "H-how..? Why do you know that?"

"This is a conversation best left for tonight," I tell her, reluctant to drop the matter, but anxious of the ticking clock, "We've still got a job to do and not a lot of time to do it in."

"Yeah...yeah. Ok, later then," she coughs to clear her throat and scoots over to the door on her knees to pick the lock.

"Is everything ok out there?" Henna calls.

"Y-yeah," Olrica replies, conflicted and ambivalent, "I'm uhh...a little better now, Henna. Don't worry, I'll have you out in a jiffy."

As promised, Olrica breaks through the lock in half the time of Jupiter's cell, "Nice work, Olrica."

She stands aside while I open the door, "Hello, Henna."

"Silver. Why are you here?" Henna furrows her brow.

"To help a friend in need, why else?" I smile calmly, ignoring the twitch of agitation from Olrica, "I can hardly abandon you at this point, can I?"

Both women look conflicted, but for markedly different reasons, I'm guessing. I really want to get Olrica alone so we can talk about what she remembered of her previous life. That desire to sate my curiosity almost beats out my concern for Henna and the Quest.

"Thank you, both of you," Henna eventually bows her head, "I...No, this is no place for that. What now, friend?"

"Some of our allies are waiting on the floor beneath the main building, go up there and wait for us - we still have one more prisoner to save on a lower floor," I quickly explain, "We'll talk more when we've escaped the city."

"Alright," the smith nods simply.

"Um, before you go..." Olrica calls out anxiously, "I'm...Olrica. It's good to see you safe and sound."

Henna bows her head to her, "Henna. Glad to be it."

Turning around and stretching a little more, Henna breaks into a run, vanishing around the corner. I regard the shaky assassin next to me, "You good to get the last one? We can spare a minute if you really need it."

"It's fine. I'm fine. We're fine," Olrica rejects, taking another deep breath and clapping her hands, "Come on."

"Don't push yourself," I warn, following after the swiftly moving Scout with little difficulty.

"The hell is your Agility?" she complains, "Aren't you supposed to be a big muscly two-handed weapon warrior type of guy? Step off my turf."

I laugh, "I can move faster if I need to."

"Rush doesn't count," Olrica flips me off.

At the top of the staircase, a Jailer appears and dies just as quickly to our combined attacks. This one at least, has a keyring attached to his hip, to the glee of Olrica, "Fuck yeah, the cliche is real!"

"You're assuming that one of those keys is the one for the cell we want to unlock," I douse her mood with some timely cynicism.

"Killjoy," she grumbles.