56. Shaving off the sheep-clothing
23 0 1
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

“You see, I am quite certain the wizard we killed was who imprisoned you here,” explained Beldrak Idalla. “That’s why I am positive that you should be able to leave your room whenever you want.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I still can’t. I can think of it, I can even decide to go out, but when I try to stand up, my legs just don’t obey me.”

“That is a really peculiar form of mental compulsion,” muttered Beldrak feigning wonderment. “I must admit, my knowledge is insufficient in this regard. I could certainly not replicate this result, much less can I dispel it. I am afraid, my lady, that I cannot help you.”

“It is fine,” she sighed. “It was too good to be true. I have resigned myself to live out my remaining days. It just…,” her voice broke down. “I wonder who will take care of me now that my captor is dead.” Why, me of course. Trust me, soon you won’t need to worry about anything, ever again.

“Well,” said Beldrak cautiously. “We might arrange something in that regard. You see, I have a library that can always use some more volumes. I am willing to buy your books, and from that money, you could employ villagers to bring you food.”

“Oh,” she said in a tone that almost screamed that while she was by no means ungrateful, she expected a more chivalrous offer. “Of course. Though… What would I do all day without my books?”

“I don’t want to bereave you from all of your books, madame!” answered Trueanvil indignantly. “I am not entirely heartless! I will take away only a few select volumes, and I assure you, that only against appropriate payment. I am always fair in my dealings.”

“Naturally,” she said hurriedly. “I would not dare to accuse my saviours of heartlessness or thievery.”

“That is splendid,” I answered. “Because what we will ask of you know, might require a little trust. We need you to bring all your books to the doorstep. We will sort them here outside into several groups, and then we can negotiate for the prices. We will, naturally, compensate you for your fatigue handsomely. We do understand that this would be a cumbersome work even for a man. With the delicate constitution of a woman, moving so many books is bound to be extremely tiring.”

“I… I don’t understand. Can’t you just come in, and select the volumes you want to take?”

“I am afraid not, my lady,” Beldrak asserted.

“My colleague has a theory, madame,” I explained. “He is afraid that the compulsion you are under may affect all those who enter your room. You understand that this is not something we are willing to risk. Thus, we need your cooperation.”

Of course, Beldrak thought nothing of the sort. We suspected Idalla was lying through her teeth, and while she probably couldn’t leave the northern part of the maze, we were almost certain she could move outside of her room. Nevertheless, we were willing to oblige her and attack her in her own place, if we had to, but Beldrak’s best spells could prove rather destructive towards the books. Obviously, that was not a risk he was willing to take. Thus, he came up with this ploy to get Idalla to remove the valuable volumes from her cage. If she complied, Beldrak could burn her to crisp without having to worry.

Naturally, nothing could be that easy. “I do trust you, gentlemen,” she said while looking into my eyes deeply. “But I am afraid I must insist that you come in and select the volumes you are willing to buy. I assure you, there is no risk for you in that.” Idalla’s voice was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. I wanted nothing more than getting lost in those deep, blue eyes. To embrace her, to hold her supple body in my arms, to… my legs took a step towards her room. Then another.

“Crap,” said Jim conversationally. “Plan B.”

A javelin whizzed past my head and brushed against Idalla’s shoulder, spluttering small gobs of blood as it flew. The projectile was aimed at the fiend’s heart, but she had reflexes like a cat and moved just in time to avoid death.

“Kill the tiefling,” she screeched at me, in a considerably less silky voice. No, I don’t think so. Idalla’s will strained against mine, but this time, I won. I shook off the mental shackles she put on me, and charged at her, Shatterspike glinting in my hand.

I cut her four times, but I couldn’t wound her seriously. She was fast, flexible and danced around me while dodging Jim’s javelins and Beldrak’s daggers. The wizard refrained from using any fire-based spells this time, lest he damage the coveted volumes.

Idalla suddenly disappeared. At one moment she was standing right in front of me, avoiding my slashes and stabs gracefully, the next moment she was nowhere to be found.

“What?” I stammered. Then Beldrak screamed in pain. The fiend appeared behind him and sank her claws into the dwarf. That was a mistake. Beldrak, despite his apparent pain, grabbed at her hands and weighed Idalla down. Now that she lost her mobility, Jim could finally nail her with a javelin. Then I was there too, hacking and slashing, Beldrak let go of the fiend’s hands and joined in with his war hammer, then Jim arrived, and it was nothing else just plain butchery anymore.

After we were done, and she laid on the floor limp, broken and bloody, she started to change. Her ears got larger and pointier, her teeth sharper. A tail grew on the dead body, and her claws became visible in their full length. Strangely, if alive, I still would have thought her an attractive woman despite her feral features. But she was dead, and I had other concerns now.

“Let’s take a look at those books,” I suggested.

I don’t know which muse is responsible for DnD after-action-reports, but right now, I am seriously thankful to her. From the tone of my writing, I would assume it’s Thalia. Or, if we interpret the word “history” very liberally, it could be Clio. Either way, the lady in charge must have kissed me on the temple at last, because in the previous two days I was having a blast with writing. After weeks of dragging, now I am putting out 5000 words daily, or around that. Obviously, for the readers, it won’t make any difference (little did I know when I wrote this author’s note…), since I will only start posting chapters after I am done with the story, but I wanted to brag all the same.

Or maybe there will be a way to tell. Perhaps the rushed work means, my orthography will be even more abysmal, than usually… Maybe… horribile dictu… this chapter will have more typos than the average.

Doesn’t sound good, does it know? I guess we will see that in the comments. Speaking of seeing, have you already seen this? No? Well, check it out! I promise you won’t be disappointed!

1