Chapter 23: Roaming around the Sunset Sea and the ascension of the Goodbrothers
DURRANDON'S POV
For all of House Harlaw's history tied to traditional agriculture and Lord Rodrik's personal fascination with high literature, the Blacktydes would have become probably one of the most reliable allies the continent of Westeros could find amongst these Iron Islanders reavers.
However there was a certain inconvenience from approaching them this early, the canonical push this house had required to forsake their Drowned god and old ways in favor of the Seven's light came only after the current Lord's death occurred whilst fighting in the foolish rebellion Balon Greyjoy so eagerly started. Not exactly a deal breaker for my voyage around here since it's not like I didn't have my ways of being very persuasive, but nonetheless it was still a trivial matter I found worth reflecting upon as my group and I were cordially received just as we disembarked our ship.
"My prince, it's an honor to welcome you to our humble castle." Lord Blacktyde bowed before me, receiving me with the appropriate display of respect one would show to a member of the royal family. Which goes to show just how eloquent Lord Harlaw must've been with his letter, or at least revealed that Lord Blacktyde wasn't planning at all on dying for his liege's whims in the first place. "I only hope the sea hasn't been as merciless as it usually is so far from the mainland."
"I'm thankful for your hospitality, Lord Blacktyde." I nodded cordially. "But I have to say, as much as the sea has been granting us safe passage up until now, my retinue and I are not yet used to staying separated from dry land for long periods of time." I openly admitted while subtly foreshadowing a bit of my plans. "Which is something I strive to rectify with years of experience."
"Wise of you to consider it…my price." Lord Blacktyde acknowledged with a little bit of Ironborn political awkwardness before introducing me to a smooth-faced and nice-looking boy in his late teens. "This young lad is my son, Baelor."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, my prince." The heir of Lord Blacktyde said. And even though he meant it in no way disrespectful, Baelor's tone missed the very same feeling of deliberate enthusiasm if compared to his father. "We welcome you and your men to our island and castle."
Nodding in response, I had Gerion stepping up as the responsible grown adult to set into paper and handshake all the deals I'd explained to him before we disembarked. Completely trusting his cunning mind to bargain the best sort of deal, I took the opportunity to continue interacting further with this young version of Baelor Blacktyde, before his forceful conversion to worshiping the New Gods, and left my other companions in charge of resupplying our stocks in the Laughing Lion so we could resume sailing as soon as possible.
In the evening, Gerion and I feasted together with our hosts, sharing the expected pleasantries and polite remarks while tactfully handling the advantages any Iron Islander would receive if they just withdrew their support from the stupid rebellion looming on the horizon.
Right after that, leading me around his father's castle to show me the place, the second noble heir named Baelor that I've met had just finished speaking highly about the thrills and awes of sailing his own ship, the Nightflyer, before finding himself without further ideas for small talk. "So…yeah, that's basically it. Changing subjects…it must be nice growing up as… a prince."
"I can't complain. Up until my sixth name day it was mostly studying and training. Large castle, fancy clothes, lots of helpful servants and plenty of delicious meals." I casually replied with a shrug, drawing a reaction of shock from my guide. "Believe it or not, but the tournaments have become more frequent after leaving the capital, even if they are not as crowded nor as extravagant as those my father loved to throw around every now and then."
"I must admit my ignorance, up until now I never assumed there really was any difference between royalty and nobility." Baelor remark rather apologetic, before focusing upon one of the aspects of my life I had just described. "The training I can easily relate to, despite your age you seem big enough to swing a weapon after all, but what might be worth the boredom of going through old books?" Baelor asked, momentarily losing his manners before immediately finding them with an apologetic bow. "…m-my prince."
"Now that we are speaking privately you don't have to keep addressing me by my title. My acquaintances call me Durran, if you please." I eased his expectations before continuing. "As for your previous doubt… I will let you know that there is plenty to learn from books, it just varies on what sort of subjects you are interested in. And depending on the material you have access to, even combat skills can be learned or improved."
"Surely you jest, my-er… Durran." The Ironborn heir remarked, still unable to grasp the meaning behind my words. "If that was indeed the case, the grey rats of the citadel would have conquered the world by now."
"What makes you so sure that they don't already rule it?" I joked with a straight face before discrediting my previous comment with a chuckle. "In all seriousness, what I was trying to say is that, despite respecting the importance of putting the knowledge to practice, one can only practice with the best practitioners of their time and region. The written word can endure centuries and even ages if well preserved, scriptures of mythical heroes achieving legendary feats come to mind."
From the look in my companion's eyes, I knew I was succeeding in going past drawing his curiosity and just reached a point to earn his attention.
"Truly? But what about the tales the people still speak about? If there was anything important recorded in rusty scrolls, wouldn't they also be passed down through the generations?" Baelor said, deciding to lead me towards the beach in order to have more privacy in our discussion.
"Some might, but take the fallen Targaryens dynasty for example. They once belonged to a mighty freehold capable of producing the legendary Valyrian steel and wield magic most would consider falsehoods, but as the centuries after the doom passed by, the Targaryen monarchs that conquered Westeros before my father had long forgotten how to even hatch their dragon eggs." I explained my point. "Had they not been so suspicious of their own kin to keep that a secret beyond documentation, my father might've never risked facing the dragonlords rule over the Iron Throne."
"If you put it like that, it certainly seems more reasonable to not neglect the written word." The Iron Islander finally realized. "I mean no offense, Durran, but I had initially assumed that your height and appearance were the only things out of the ordinary in you, but clearly your mind is just as remarkable."
"You humble me with such high praise." I smiled in apparent humility. "I merely seek to abide by the Crone's philosophy, which guides me with wisdom through the darkness of ignorance."
"I see." He remarked while staring at the stars already visible even this early in the night sky, unaware that he was about to take the bait I so casually laid before him. "Can't say I know much about your people's gods… I know that there are seven of them, right?"
"Actually, those are the seven defined aspects of a single source of divinity. First brought to Westeros' shores some six thousand years ago by the Andalos of old. Before their arrival, the First Men still ruled with their weapons and armor of bronze. Mind hearing a few interesting tales about the Seven that are one?" I asked offhandedly. "Their philosophy provides a certain level of wisdom that I recall even Harren the Black, for all of his blasphemy and hubris, felt to be worthy of his attention."
The Ironborn merely shrugged. "Sure, why not? From my father's preparations to your arrival, he and that Lannister relative of yours must still have plenty to discuss."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it. With your lord father's consent, we were granted permission to stay the night so that my man could rest properly after days of sailing." I informed him, framing it as if I wasn't imposing anything.
"That seems more than reasonable, Durran." Baelor acknowledged before I began reciting to him the abridged version of the Faith of the Seven, emphasizing the segments and passages I knew most people with an adventuring heart would find inspiring while casually lacing magic around my words.
Soon after, by the time I was almost certain I had made a new worshiper who might build a sept as soon as he became lord, we returned to the Blacktyde's castle and I was shown my personal chamber. During the night, as it had become a habit of mine, I sneak out of my chamber with my cat companion in order to explore another magical dungeon.
As we were as nimble as lightning and obviously considerably more subtle than it, finding our way around the castle of the Blacktydes was but a short stroll around its barely lit hallways, especially after the brief tour Baelor gave me while introducing me to its layout and presentation of his family's historical house.
The Ironborn guards on watch were incapable of even having the slightest sensation that they were being watched, and the few servants that worked here that weren't resting in their small rooms were too oblivious of anything even if they cared to look around.
As for the great hall itself, besides being the place where I located the entrance to the dungeon, it wasn't all that worthy of staying around longer than I required.
Stepping inside the cold and damp tunnel that led me several levels downstairs, I left Shadow behind to keep watch while I was absent. And as soon as the stairway ended, I brought my Death Knight out of my Inventory and conjured my Nightwalker out of my own dark silhouette unnaturally casted against the wall beside me in this gloom area.
Deciding to continue with their training, instead of quickly clearing everything with my Haste spell, the three of us assumed a formation and moved forward. However, as soon as we trailed farther enough off from the entrance, the usual bars that fell to prevent anyone from coming back this time produced an awful lot of sound, which definitely warned any being capable of hearing towards our location.
Quickly casting my Invisibility spell to hide my Death Knight, while my Nightwalker and I were capable of becoming invisible by ourselves, instead of venturing blindly to find out what we would be dealing with, we waited near a strategic spot in the corner of the entrance for our bait to arrive on a silver plate.
Not long after, a warband of highly shark-like humanoids, with webbed feet and hands, rushed into the first segment of the underground tunnel while muttering an erratic language I couldn't understand a single word of, only to actually take their time to scan through the entrance of the dungeon in search of trespassers.
These creatures were somewhat similar to the kuo-toa, with plenty of gills, and a finned tail which aided in visually separating them from the grotesque fish. There was also some additional webbing down their backs, at the elbows and, notably, also where human ears would be.
Observing them from my hiding spot, I learned of their nature.
{SAHUAGIN, MEDIUM HUMANOID}
{LV - 30}
POW: 45
MOB: 33
END: 42
INT: 36
STL: 20
DEF: 0
HP: 1000
SPEED: 30 ft. Swim 40 ft.
SENSES: DARKVISION 120 ft.
LANGUAGES: SAHUAGIN.
[LIMITED AMPHIBIOUSNESS: The sahuagin can breathe air and water, but it needs to be submerged at least once every 4 hours to avoid suffocating.]
[SHARK TELEPATHY: The sahuagin can magically command any shark within 40 meters of it, using a limited telepathy.]
[BLOOD FRENZY: The sahuagin has a thirst for wounded opponents that momentarily increases its physical stats.]
[ACTIVE REGENERATION: Once a short or long rest the sahuagin can boost its HP regeneration.]
*Savage fighters, the sahuagin asked for and gave no quarter; not even to children or babies. Although they excelled in physical prowess and had their intellectual value, their race greatly feared magic, so the Sahuagin never tried developing or studying it for any purpose. Only priestesses of Sekolah used divine magic granted by their god and even that magic was regarded with fear and as a necessary evil even amongst these cold blooded killers.
'Well I'll be damned!' I muttered to myself while holding my undead servants in place. 'Other than not knowing who Sekolah is, it was good to learn so much about these creatures before me.'
As the Sahuagin leader returned to meet its group after inspecting the entrance, now blocked by metal bars, it turned to its companions while clutching its trident tightly and spoke with a deep voice a few words I couldn't make heads or tails of.
'Let's see if they make use of their intelligence stat or should I just treat them as feral beasts that I should slay without care.' I thought to myself, satisfied with how much I had improved my Observe skill, before stepping out of my Invisibility with my arms raised.
"Alright, alright! You caught me entering your territory uninvited. Take me to your leader so we can solve this as calm and reasonable people." I loudly announce while keeping the usual eloquence behind my words, showing clear signs of my cooperation.
Instead of cautionary hostility, what I got from this bootleg variants of Ripjaws, all I got was a war cry from all the warriors I had just spoke to followed by them foolishly rushing at me with clear intent to murder me viciously.
Casually signaling one of my undead minions to take action with a subtle nod, before the leader of these shark-like humanoids could even step foward to lead the assault, a shadowy arrow materialized into existence and flew through the blackness, piercing it with deadly cold precision and instantly dropping the big creature dead with a loud noise. Before the others had the chance to react appropriately, a flurry of similar blades danced through the air and gouged all of their vital organs, slaughtering all but one of them.
Amidst the pile of bleeding bodies, pinning the last living and crippled Sahuagin to the ground with its feet and blades, the echoing frame of my Nightwalker stood staring coldly at the frightened creature while silently waiting for further commands.
"Well, done." I complimented my servant, who immediately stepped back and kneeled, before crouching down to speak with our bleeding prisoner. "Here." Healing it with my Lay on Hands Paladin feature so as not to have it die before time, I quickly casted Zone of Truth and used my Bard feature Universal Speech that bypassed regular language barriers. "I'm terribly sorry for our hasty action against your companions. But as you can see I'm in no mood for wasting my time with beings not willing to prove me that they are rational enough to negotiate. So, if you wish to avoid a death worse than the one I granted your companions, nod your head and answer my questions truthfully."
Despite the fact I couldn't comprehend these shark-kin language, I knew for sure my words didn't fall on deaf ears, for not a second later I got the exact gesture I had asked for.
Within a couple of minutes of interrogation with the defeated Sahuagin either nodding or shaking its head to my questions, I learned a lot more than I had expected. From the looks of it, these dungeons were indeed a recent addition to this world, given how the captured Sahuagin confirmed they were imprisoned here for a little more than half a decade.
That reminded me of the few words the Night Hag said before I quickly got rid of it and made me wonder how many more sentient creatures were imprisoned throughout the other dungeons of Westeros, perhaps there were even more beyond the narrow sea.
Dismissing that thought for later, I finally thanked my prisoner's cooperation before the magic translation was lost between us. "I appreciate your collaboration, this will be all." As the fish-like humanoid seemed to release a sigh of relief, I signaled for my Death Knight to finish the job with a merciful kill. "Let us proceed."
Further ahead the underground tunnel, after casually dealing with some hand-made traps, we came across a myriad of water-holes and ponds near the walls from which more and more Sahuagin attempted to ambush any intruder almost as if they were paying homage to killer croc's legendary hunting segment of Arkham Asylum.
While my enlarged Death Knight armed with the magical equipment I grant it assumed the role of frontline tank, bashing and slashing with its shield and greatsword while dashing forward, I sneak attacked them midair during their dramatical lunges by flying and teleporting around the darkness all the while my Nightwalker offered its ranged support on my back as if it was a Stand from Jojo's.
After previously sacrificing some of the living criminals I had imprisoned inside my Inventory to my Nightwalker's Strength Drain, my roguish undead had acquired a couple of echoes it could detach from itself at will as if they were literal Shadow Clones from Naruto and remotely control them to cover more ground. That and the fact that it learned abnormally fast how to reproduce the same shadow arts that I've learned as a Shadow monk, basically becoming a legion of ninjas at my own disposal.
Meanwhile, my Death Knight appeared to be slowly learning how to replicate a few of the necrotic effects I exposed it to in order to evolve it. My use of decompose gave its skin and blood the property of magically poisoning those that came directly into contact with it while my Ray of Sickening Fear translated into a dangerously lethal stare that most targets fell victim of. And despite not having a necromancy spell of second class that could be of the same use, I unlocked a new spell of third class that seemed more than capable of making up for it and pushing it towards another breakthrough.
{BESTOW/ REMOVE CURSE Lv- 1(0%)}
[THIRD CLASS NECROMANCY SPELL: You touch a creature and it becomes cursed for the duration of the spell. When you cast this spell, choose the nature of the curse from the following options: Choose one Attribute stat. While cursed, the target has that attribute reduced to halve. While cursed, the target also has disadvantage on attacks against you and will miss more frequently. While cursed, the target must also make an effort to resist the excessive amount of negative energy. If it fails, it stays in place incapable of doing nothing more than staying passive. While the target is cursed, your attacks and spells deal an extra amount of necrotic damage to the target. A Remove Curse spell ends this effect immediately. With time, you may learn more curse effects. Incidentally, if this spell is casted to remove curses, all curses affecting one creature or object end. If the object is a cursed magic item of higher power, its curse remains, but the spell breaks its owner's attunement to the object so it can be safely removed or discarded.]
CASTING TIME: INSTANTANEOUS
RANGE: TOUCH
COMPONENTS: V AND S
DURATION: CONCENTRATION, UP TO 1 MINUTE. INSTANTANEOUS IF USED TO REMOVE CURSE.
On regular targets it's an excellent way of debilitating a big guy's endurance and having a group of allies ganging upon it. However, as I've recently uncovered, if bestowed on stronger types of undead it provides them a similar effect to the one of my Vow of Enmity, effectively granting it the ability to curse opponents in order to deal extra damage through a dark version of my divine smite. Slowly stealing their life essence with each strike, which was excellent for any being that my Restoration spell did more harm than good.
Having said all that, easily towering over any human, equipped with a formidable suit of full plate armor infused with magic while wielding both a massive greatsword and a tower shield made of infused magical metal stood a towering being worthy of me going all out. Fortunately, my Death Knight's honor seemed to finally develop a sense of duty and servitude towards me even without having to exert direct magical control over it. And believe it or not, that wasn't even the best part.
However, since this dungeon seemed to lack the hordes of undead I so usually dealt with, I will have to leave that surprise for later. Currently I was sufficiently busy wondering if Sahuagin's meat was as tasty as Kuo-toa. For that purpose I ordered my Nightwalker to send a few of its echoes to skin pelt and butcher meat from the trail of minced corpses we were leaving behind.
Advancing alongside my Death Knight as its footsteps kept shaking the foundation of these underground tunnels, I beheld the sight of my giant servant steamrolling all the improvised traps these shark-like creatures had set in the case someone trespassed into their confinement. The only notable encounter came just when we finally reached this dungeon's boss guardian. Or should I say, bosses.
The first one resembled, although barely, a female sea creature with several specks of yellow on her tail that most likely helped display how foreign these Sahuagin's beauty standards were to me. Because if not for my Observe skill, even I would have a hard time discerning their sexual dimorphism, or seemingly lack there of. On an interesting note, her right eye being pitch black and her left one being pale white were neat details to her appearance that made me funnily enough sympathize with her.
{SAHUAGIN PRIESTESS, MEDIUM HUMANOID}
{LV - 50}
POW: 39
MOB: 33
END: 36
INT: 36
STL: 30
DEF: 0
HP: 2500
SPEED: 30 ft. Swim 40 ft.
SENSES: DARKVISION 120 ft.
LANGUAGES: SAHUAGIN.
[AMPHIBIOUS: The sahuagin priestess can breathe air and water without being required to submerge itself if it doesn't wish to.]
[IMPROVED SHARK TELEPATHY: The sahuagin can magically command any shark within 1 kilometer of it, using a limited telepathy.]
[BLOOD FRENZY: The sahuagin has a thirst for wounded opponents that momentarily increases its physical stats.]
[SPELLCASTING: She knows spells of third class and lower.]
*Worshiper of Sekolah, God of Sharks, as her peoples' patron deity and the father of their race. Her religion also perceives him as the ultimate adjudicator and incarnation of punishment, officiating over an endless struggle between mythic figures. These figures being the hunter: "He Who Eats", and the hunted: "He Who Is Eaten", with the struggle between them reflected in every aspect of life.
Although she seemed to lack the power of limited regeneration, her stats were adequately better than the average Sahuagin my undead minions and I had slaughtered just a while ago. That and the fact that she was capable of casting spells of the same tier class that I could.
As for the one accompanying her, standing around a couple of feet taller than my Death Knight before I enlarged it, a four-armed mutant that clearly put the Mountain that rides to shame was undoubtedly a big shark in a small pond stuck down here.
{YOUNG SAHUAGIN BARON, LARGE HUMANOID}
{LV - 60}
POW: 57
MOB: 45
END: 48
INT: 42
STL: 30
DEF: 30* (Breastplate: 45% resistance to non magical bludgeoning damage and 75% resistance to non magical piercing and slashing damage)
HP: 5000
SPEED: 30 ft. Swim 50 ft.
SENSES: DARKVISION 120 ft.
LANGUAGES: SAHUAGIN.
[IMPROVED LIMITED AMPHIBIOUSNESS: The sahuagin can breathe air and water, but it needs to be submerged at least once every 12 hours to avoid suffocating.]
[SHARK TELEPATHY: The sahuagin can magically command any shark within 40 meters of it, using a limited telepathy.]
[IMPROVED BLOOD FRENZY: The sahuagin has a thirst for wounded opponents that momentarily doubles its physical stats.]
[IMPROVED ACTIVE REGENERATION: Once a short or long rest the sahuagin can boost its HP regeneration to recover even from fatal wounds.]
*About one in every 216 hatchlings possessed four functional arms. Known as "barons", these four-armed mutations were often black, fading to gray in color. While sahuagin usually killed off defective hatchlings, they allowed these to live, for although it was true that their species never ceased to grow, barons are infamously known for how much faster they reach larger sizes.
Great stats, improved base abilities and an actual defense stat, added to the fact that this Baron boasted four arms instead of the regular pair its species usually did, and due to all of that I found myself eager to face it in actual combat.
Raising my hand, I made my intentions of facing these opponents by myself clear and immediately after my Nightwalker separated from my body only to once again kneel in complete loyalty, this time nearby my Death Knight, who was already doing that epic, and frankly quite cliché, knight pose while holding his sword down.
Wielding my pale white Valyrian steel short sword on my right hand and my metalic wand on my left hand, I was courteous enough to grant these shark creatures the first move. Although, typically enough, my cordiality seemed to be viewed as an act of weakness by my opponents, given by how quickly the priestess focused her efforts on casting a spell by tightening her grasp to what appeared to be her faith's holy symbol.
Having subtly used Detect Magic right after discovering that one of my opponents was a spellcaster, I interpreted the fluctuation of her mana belonging to the Evocation school of magic.
'Eager to activate your Blood Frenzy skill, are we?' I mused while subtly using counterspell on her magic, stealing a good part of her wasted mana and converging it into one power surge, making it seem as if she had just failed in her effort for no clear reason.
"Grrrr!" The largest Sahuagin with four arms grunted at her, probably wondering why she was taking too long to attack me, but to her credit the priestess response wasn't meeker in any shape or form.
"Garrrr!" She all but barked before quickly casting another spell, this time targeting her fellow companion, which was the only reason why I allowed this one to work out in the end.
But instead of being amused by the prospect of watching friendly fire amongst my opponents, I witnessed a spell of the divination school of magic suddenly enhance the Baron's Power stat with what I managed to discern as a variation of my Guidance spell, prompting the very same mutant to rush at me confident of its might.
'It feels pointless, but I will fall for it.' I thought before quickly Raging and Action Surging, immediately meeting my melee opponent halfway through his vicious dash. As multiple limbs lashed at me, I swiftly avoided the first set of upper claws by sliding down my enemy's legs, cutting both Achilles' tendons from its legs with a single swing with my extra attack while also taking the opportunity to slip a few sneaky attacks targeting ligaments on its arms and torso.
[-500 HP]
It's Health Bar only served to help me avoid killing it by accident, because as I've learned up until this point, no amount of HP would protect my foes from a destroyed brain and vital organs. But while the Baron screeched in pain, it still steeled its focus and attempted to wound me by swinging its finned tail in my direction as if it was a whip. Fortunately, adjusting my momentum and direction with my magical blade and boosted mobility mid-slide was child's play, however, before I could make my mind to cut its tail off as punishment, I found myself instinctively dodging a glowing dart of radiant energy.
'Is that what I think it is?' I recalled the magical attack I learned after progressing my Star Druid title further enough, safe from the fact that mine's speed made it considerably much harder to dodge. 'Duh! Her description already gave it away that she was a cleric. Good thing I didn't have my Undead minions facing a spellcaster with radiant magic, regardless of how much they have evolved, they weren't yet ready to fight against their weakness.'
As the priestess attempted another ranged attack to buy her wounded companion some time to recover, I admittedly got a little too impatient and spent the power charge I had just earned and boosted my twined Chromatic Orb. Shooting lightning orbs at both opponents, I simultaneously zapped the crippled mutant still lying on the ground and stunned the priestess by going through her bolt of radiant energy.
[-2000 HP]
"Arrrrrrr!"
[-2000 HP]
"Irrrrh!"
Both creatures screeched in pain and agony, though the difference in Endurance was made clear by how, despite taking considerably more damage, the Sahuagin baron was still in better condition than the priestess that lay stunned in the ground.
[SAHUAGIN PRIESTESS: 500 HP REMAINING]
[CONDITION: STUNNED!]
[CONDITION: PRONE!]
From the fact that I sighted some of the Sahuagin baron's wounds healing at a visible pace, I understood it had finally activated its regeneration.
[SAHUAGIN BARON: 2500 HP REMAINING]
[SAHUAGIN BARON: 2600…2700…2800…]
'Not so fast!' I thought before peppering it with several beams of my Eldritch Blast cantrip, easily outmatching its natural healing to the point that I almost killed it.
[-200 HP X10]
[SAHUAGIN BARON: 800 HP REMAINING]
"Grr…" The mutant muttered in a half effort to stand up using its arms and to remain conscious, only to be ravaged by my Draconic breath at point blank.
"Rooooar!" I released a destructive wave of thunder energy that blasted it all the way against the treasure room's door.
[-750 HP]
[SAHUAGIN BARON: 50 HP REMAINING]
[CONDITION: DEAFENED!]
Staring back at my undead minions nonchalantly, I made sure they had just witnessed me wipe the floor with these two opponents without trying that hard. But before I could reach my dying opponent in order to put it out of its misery, I noticed that the Priestess had somehow overcome her stunned condition and bitterly fought to stand up in order to cast what appeared to be her last desperate spell.
Respecting her commitment to the very end, I once again granted her dignity to at least attempt her best shot. However, once again, instead of assuming the offensive or raising any sort of barrier, she called out a few words of holy magic and a faint aura enveloped both her and the other Sahuagin.
[+1000 HP X2]
[SAHUAGIN PRIESTESS: 1500 HP REMAINING]
[SAHUAGIN BARON: 1050 HP REMAINING]
'I can't fucking believe it.' I mentally facepalmed, calming myself so as not to vocally curse these pesky creatures that never seemed to learn. Growing bored with the combat I had so mistakenly overestimated and anticipated, I was about to curbstomp these two with strength and speed alone so to finally get over with it before my rage and action surge ended. But before I could proceed further with any hostile behavior, the two creatures fell down on their knees and bowed before me.
"We surrender to your might, oh great hunter!" The priestess declared in a slightly modulated voice, though with a quick glimpse with my Detect Magic I uncovered she must've been using a spell to translate her speech. Even the hulking shark humanoid besides her seemed to accept it as well. "If our slight to the most honored one hasn't been enough to warrant our extermination, we beg you to accept our submission and grant us passage outside of this torment."
Signaling for my Death Knight and Nightwalker to stay put in case this was a desperate trick they were pulling in order to deceive me, I played along.
"You speak of mercy, but as soon as I stepped inside this dungeon I was greeted with nothing more than hostility. Tell me, worshiper of Sekolah, why should I accept my enemies' pleas?" I questioned while in a position of absolute authority, subtly casting Zone of Truth while ignoring how hilarious this scene really was to me.
The sahuagin priestess kept her head pressed against the floor in complete submission while the other one did the best it could with its size. "I-I once again beg for your mercy, oh most honorable. My people and I have been forcefully separated from our homeland and had long grown desperate to find a way out. The ones that had already fallen before your strength were my brothers and sisters who most of whom have never laid eyes on the outside world, and because of that my mate and I were unable to keep the order once a possibility of escape presented itself."
'Oh, I see.' I thought to myself, reflecting upon the implications of my arrival and the fact that more sentient beings have been imprisoned since my arrival in this world. 'Wait, are you telling me some of those were indeed female? So much for being observant I guess.'
Probably anticipating a thought that wasn't even crossing my mind, the priestess spoke once again. "Oh mighty hunter, we hold absolutely no grudge against you for taking our peoples lives. Your power was superior to theirs, hence why they no longer live. But despite our hostility towards you, I only plead your forgiveness for my inability to rule and foresee the gap between our own power before engaging in combat."
"If your words of submission to me are true, then you have nothing to worry about. But…" I lingered on that for a moment to weigh in my threat. "If this is an act of deception you and your… partner have come up with in order to betray me, I will let you know that both of you will wish to have perished here alongside your relatives."
"We understand. Henceforth we will serve you with our lives." The cleric with no inviting physical features declared, almost sounding inspired by my callousness. "If it's the master's desires, you may call me Skarrhes and this one besides me Degrok."
"You two will have to earn those names back." I decided to double down on the whole evil ruler roleplay just to check the waters. Once her fish-like appearance seemingly displayed a smile filled with sharp teeth, I took it as sign of evidence of my previous theory. "Also…" I added another remark while dismissing the enlargement I placed on my Death Knight while simultaneously reducing the size of the large Sahuagin Baron to the size of an average human by casting my Alter Self spell, subtly making it seem as if I could manipulate one's shape at will. "…Your partner's size might be an inconvenience for now."
"Impossible! I-I mean… With offensive strikes that not even adepts like me aren't capable of matching, I should've expected that my master was just as powerful with the other spell casting focus. My people so often carried fear from such a versatile and powerful weapon, but you wield it as its absolute ruler." Skarrhes said in genuine admiration.
"It is but one of the tools at my disposal to achieve my goals. In the future, if you prove yourself worthy, your name might not be the only reward I have stored for you." I hinted at a possible promotion in case she impressed me positively.
"The master is most generous. I will not allow such generosity to go to waste." The sea creature told me as I finally decided to lead them both out of this dungeon, unlocking a new location and looting the treasure room on my way only to collect more gold coins.
Greeting the silent figure of my feline familiar once we were back to the Blacktydes castle, I had my Death Knight and Nightwalker keeping an eye on the four armed Sahuagin while I kept interacting with the priestess as we made our way out of the great hall.
"This…" The priestess said, sniffing the air long before we could even come across an open view of the horizon. "Is a castle…near the sea? No, not just close, we are on an island!"
"Excellent senses." I complimented her offhandedly. "Quite surprised they hadn't been dulled with your years in imprisonment."
"It's not something one of my kind could ever forget. Our teeth and claws would grow dull and frail much earlier than our connection to the great Sea of Worlds." She respectfully replied while mentioning a small piece of trivia. "Master, could I be as bold as to ask you questions about this place?"
"Go on." I allowed her while subtly casting Sleep every time we came close to a watchful guard or rare servant working this early before the sun could even be seen rising on the horizon.
"How powerful are the people of this land in order to live so confidently near the open sea?" She voiced her curiosity with a semblance of expectation.
"To be honest, nowhere nearly as strong as the opposition I faced before meeting you." I revealed. "The fact is, here magic has long been believed to be a myth or superstitious custom carried by uncivilized tribes on the far corners of the world. As for any creature or race other than humans and animals, they are either extinct or so long into hiding that no one believes they still exist."
"A world with non magical humans as the most powerful civilization…" From Skarrhes' expression I saw a conflict of disbelief and enthusiasm. "Master must be living here as an uncontested sovereign."
"Not yet. I'm currently barely past my seventh year of age. But visions of the future to come reveal that things won't remain as such for that long either." I informed her of some of my plans.
"You are also a harbinger? So young and yet so powerful. It is clear to me that it is your right to rule everything and everyone." The priestess remarked almost in veneration as we finally reached the beach. "With the Shark-father blessing, I will proudly be another one of your tools to make such a future come to pass."
"We shall see about that." I said while casting Disguise Self on my two new servants, making Skarrhes resemble a septa in her early forties with a bit of seaweed signaling a certain connection with the faith of the Drowned god, all the while having Degrok resembling one of Gerion's marines with the appropriate armor and blue garb, momentarily locking him in this size without having to keep my concentration for that purpose.
Fortunately, after being able to spam these first class spells without spending mana, I've brought them to a point where they lasted until dispelled and subsequently didn't require my concentration to maintain, which also applied to both Arcane Weapon and Mage Armor.
It didn't escape my attention that Skarrhes wasn't gushing about how wonderful and powerful I was this time, but it was clear it mostly came from a cultural perception of beauty standards, especially when it comes with the loss of natural weapons such as sharp claws and pointy teeth. Regardless, since I didn't sense any signs of open disobedience or defiance, the cleric of the deep sea seemed to understand the necessity of disguising as a human.
"If it's not wrong of me to ask, I would like to learn more about this world, mostly because I feel like I'm ill-prepared to serve the master's wishes to the full of my capacities otherwise." The Sahuagin priestess reasoned. "That and learn more about your language, since I believe my magic could be put to better use other than translating our conversation, master."
"You make a fair point. In turn I would like to learn your language as well." I agreed before sitting with crossed legs on the beach, witnessing the first rays of sunlight rising on the horizon, ready to teach another student on this beach. This time though, I subtly casted Guidance, boosting Skarrhes' intelligence in order to make most use of our time. "We should proceed right away then, we will soon be sailing to another island. Meanwhile, your partner can prove his skill in battle while sparring with my Death Knight."
"Yes, master." She replied enthusiastically as I had signaled for my undead minion transmuted as Sir Knight to test the Baron's combat effectiveness while he was stuck assuming the form of a marine from my Royal Legion.
To anyone that happens to sight us from afar, they would witness two impressive fighters engaged in an impressive mock combat while the Crown Prince had some private early lessons with a septa, accompanied by his dornish butler. By the time we had to pack our stuff and leave, I estimated that my celestial familiar, Light, would've returned after delivering a message to Tywin Lannister at Casterly Rock.
As for Shadow, my trusty cat, if I didn't know her better I would say she didn't approve of my decision to start recruiting more servants. But it's not like these shark-humanoids were the first I had submitted to my will, and from the few glimpses of the future I kept getting, they certainly won't be the last.
I even got to display my mimic and athcoid pets to my new shark-kin servants and while doing so, I got to learn another important piece of trivia about the Sahuagin race.
"Only the living are Sahuagin, the dead are just meat." Skarrhes announced almost as if reading those words from a holy text, openly displaying her approval of my Sahuagin meat collection.
That's right, they were very open to cannibalism and believed that eating the meat of their fallen companions was the best way of paying respect to their strength in life. That's excellent given that I fully intended to put everything I got to good use on my research and experimentation. Only real shame was that their meat wasn't as tasty as the one from the hideous and insane Kuo-Toa, who I only kept their eyes stored in order to study their otherworldly perception.
————————————————————————
A couple of hours later…
Once the movement in the castle began to grow again, I allowed my Sahuagin Baron servant to take a dip in the cold waters of the sea and stored a few barrels of water inside my Inventory for an emergency. The mutant was still getting used to the absence of an extra pair of arms and a tail to make due, but it was clear that he greeted the cold salty waters much more naturally than any Ironborn could ever hope to.
His Shark Telepathy seemed to work just fine with the few reef sharks he managed to summon towards him. Watching both him and his mother so casually interacting with creatures most humans would deem too dangerous to even be nearby gave me the strange, and most likely silly, idea of having my marines riding sharks to more effectively scout the coasts.
Later on, with a little bit of persuasion and Sandor's aid in backing up my story, I somehow managed to make the sudden appearance of a septa and a new Marine not conversation worthy for Gerion's crew.
{LIE ATTEMPT SUCCEED!}
"Can't say I've heard, much less seen, any septa being this far from a sept. Heh." However, Thoros being Thoros couldn't help himself from occasionally attempting to flirt with Skarrhes, to her cold annoyance. "But I suppose the same could be said for one as pretty as you."
"It is necessary." She replied, dismissing his last remark, recalling one of the excuses I've taught her to use if anyone questioned her presence. "One could perhaps argue that it was not the warriors, but the septons and septas, armed with the holy text of the seven pointed star who truly conquered Westeros."
"Ah, I see. Heh. Well, if you ever need advice from someone who has spent years in a quest to spread the word of his lord to foreign lands, I'm here for you." Thoros said while apparently paying no mind to the double meaning in his offer.
"I will keep that in mind." She merely nodded before immediately disregarding him.
Meanwhile, my Swornshield, Sandor, kept an eye on the suspiciously silent Degrok, who other than continuously staring at the vast sea was still grasping the concept of working alongside humans, more specifically wrapping his head around the less aggressive and authoritarian way we interact with one another compared to how it was with his kin. But since Sandor was already aware of some of my secrets, just like he eventually learned to accept my Death Knight's disguised presence, I didn't have much to worry about.
As for my other companions, both Jalabhar and Syrio seemed to find it too early to have an opinion just yet, while Lothor didn't really seem to care all that much besides that we had another capable soldier to make use of if the Ironborn ever decided to bring us trouble.
Now, hours after having started the day by eating the first meal of the day alongside Lord Blacktyde and his family in similar fashion as I did with Lord Harlaw, the 'Laughing Lion' set sail and led us through the shores of Orkmont.
"Young master?" I heard Skarrhes' voice calling for me.
"Yes…septa?" I turned my head away from my musings, noticing her troubled expression I added. "Speak freely."
"I've been hearing the men of this ship talking about this territory we found ourselves in. What I'm more curious about is the nature of these self-proclaimed Ironborn and their Drowned God." The disguised Sahuagin priestess dumped all of her thoughts on me. "Forgive my assumption, but is it not strange for humans to claim their ancestry from the sea? And this god they devote themselves to, how could they expect the deep sea to fight the storms of the surface?"
"Not necessarily. For all we know they could actually be half Merling. As for their religion, I'm not yet sure, but it seems to grant them a small tolerance for psychic influence." I replied, sharing bits of my knowledge concerning these Iron Islanders. "As for prophetic visions… they are as unclear and enigmatic as they come."
"How so, master?" Skarrhes asked.
Recalling the words said by Patches, I spoke them expecting that a being of the sea could make more sense out of it. "…It is always summer under the sea. The merwives wear nennymoans in their hair and weave gowns of silver seaweed… or …We will march into the sea and out again. Under the waves we will ride seahorses, and mermaids will blow seashells to announce our coming… finally…Under the sea the mermen feast on starfish soup, and all the sertimimen are crabs."
After hearing me with absolute attention, the priestess remained silent for a couple of seconds before grunting. "Agh! My deepest apologies, young master, but I can't make any sense out of these riddles. At least not just yet."
Despite my disappointment, for I had hoped that if anyone knew what that gibberish meant it would be one of these Sahuagin creatures, I sensed no duplicity from her response so I just replied. "Don't worry, even the validity of these prophecies are not exactly assured. But if you think of anything just make sure to let me know."
"Absolutely!" She attempted to bow down but I just stopped her by grabbing her shoulder. Remembering my words about not drawing too much attention, she looked around just to notice most of the crewmen working on the ship occasionally glancing at her. Probably hoping to change subjects, Skarrhes suddenly asked. "Would you mind teaching me more about these Iron Islands?"
If not for my Player's Mind keeping my expressions under control, I probably would've surprised her with a weird grin or something like that. "Sure. You see that one on the horizon? It's called Orkmont, the most central of the islands with also a couple of noble families based on it, and even though it is awkward and tawny, it's most notable for being the home to two extinct but legendary houses in these parts."
Noticing that I had my servant's full attention I proceeded. "When the Ironborn began the practice of having a High King, or a Driftwood King as they were sometimes known on account of the crown of driftwood that they wore, the first worth of notice was Urras Greyiron, and so House Greyiron remained the preeminent house for centuries after that. The driftwood crown was not for a long time passed down from father to son, but instead each new king was elected by Kingsmoot from the lords and captains of the Iron Islands." I explained while noticing Degrok joining us while remaining silent.
It seems he also was beginning to learn a few words of the common tongue. That or the fact that I didn't have anything else for him to do while we sailed towards our next destination made him curious about my conversation with his partner.
"It was also said that 38 Greyirons were elected High King, more than twice as many as any other house. And so it was perhaps no surprise that when the kingship of the Iron Islands became hereditary it was House Greyiron of Orkmont who seized control. It was during the rule of Torgon Greyiron while he was away raiding when his father died and a Kingsmoot was suddenly called, with no one informing him hoping that his absence would boost their own chances of becoming king." I told them well aware of their view in regards to how strength gave one the right to rule over the weak.
"When he did return, Torgon the Late Comer as he became known, denounced the Kingsmoot as invalid and claimed the crown by force, passing it to his son without calling a Kingsmoot, who later passed it to his nephew. The priests rebelled, but once more Greyiron strength won out and he too claimed the Seastone chair without a Kingsmoot. It was this Greyiron, Urron Greyiron, who forged a new iron crown to pass to his descendants, crushed all opposition and cemented the ascendancy of House Greyiron for the next thousand years." I saw the priestess grin at that outcome before muttering a few words to the Baron, who chuckled in similar fashion.
But their smugness faltered once I told them what came next. "They were finally overthrown by a combination of Andals, Greyjoys, Orkwood, Drumms and House Hoare. The latter who originally also hailed from Orkmont, then became the preeminent power in the islands. In the centuries that followed, House Hoare went through much rebellions, accusations of being too Andal, being praised and hated for bringing the Faith of the Seven to the islands, being raided by the Lannisters, establishing more peaceful trading relations with the mainland, and finally expanding the Ironborn Empire well into the Riverlands."
"So great was the extent of this kingdom that the last three of the Hoare Kings styled themselves Kings of the Isles and Rivers, and spent more time in the Riverlands than they did on the Iron Islands themselves. The last of the line, Harren the Black, was the King who ordered the construction of mighty Harrenhal. And everyone from here remembers his fate and the castle the Targaryen conqueror left in ruins once his massive dragon bathed and cooked it with dragonfire." Obviously neither sea creatures had a preferred house to root for, what they cared most was their apparently religious zealotry towards the hierarchy of power.
"Back to Orkmont's present days, despite its illustrious history, as you can see at first glance it is a largely unremarkable island. Like so many others from here, it is almost bare of trees since they were all chopped down long ago to build boats, but despite its rocky and inhospitable landscape, it is actually considerably rich in ore, including iron, lead, and tin. I'm sure you got the picture by now, it is but a reference to the untapped potential that the archipelago of the Iron Islands really is. Something I believed more and more that some of my allies had the necessary tools to make best use of." I revealed, noticing that if not putting the appropriate militaristic spin on that fact I wouldn't have these shark-brains care that much for it. Regardless, having more things to do other than lecturing history and geography, I dismissed them. "That will be all for now."
"As you wish, young master." Skarrhes replied before leading her partner elsewhere.
Right after Light landed on my shoulder and Shadow sat close to my feet, I told them to keep a watch on those two, they immediately complied and left me to wander back to my private chamber alone. Retrieving Page from my Inventory, I began once again to scribble multiple magical formulas and theories I had been developing in my mind, confident that I was on the cusp of getting something great even without the most optimal circumstance to test it out.
However, it was not the time yet for that development, instead I noticed that once that historically important island disappeared into the horizon another appeared into everyone's sight as we sailed towards and eventually docked on the largest of these Iron Islands, Great Wyk. Around as large as the Arbor from the Reach, or even Tarth and Estermont from the Stormlands, though obviously not as populated or as productive as them, at least not with anything that wasn't related to fishing and mining.
"Is it just me or does our time on land appear to be shortening all the while our time on sea continuously expands?" Thoros muttered amongst his close companions while disappointedly storing away his empty wineskin.
"It might surprise you, but a man's days grow larger the more sober he stays. If you rationalized your drink rather than drinking everything you could before passing out you might've spared yourself the headache." Syrio pointed out, exchanging his own supply of wine for a couple of silver coins from the Myrish Priest. "Then again, we all know you enjoy complaining as much as you savor your alcohol, so be my guest and keep making me richer."
"Bah! I thought a Bravossi dancer such as you would understand it." Thoros dismissed his friend's arguments before taking another lager gulp from his recently acquired wine.
"You've assumed incorrectly." Syrio's words fell on deaf ears as he stored his profit on a pouch tied to his belt.
"This one doesn't get why all the complaining. The waves on our path were sufficiently calm and the wind generously carried our vessel with great speed." Jalabhar Xho joined on Thoros leave, with his arms crossed and his back leaned against one of the ship's masts. "My only objection is this unnatural lack of warmth. I dread it will only get worse with winter."
In any event, with my close companions once again seeming all that interested in discussing how great it was to finally have feet on solid land for a few days as the 'Laughing Lion' docked at Pebbletown, I had Gerion inform them all that we will be marching very soon. To my surprise most seemed to eagerly accept that exchange. Sailing may be second nature to the Ironborn, and admittedly a little bit to me as well, but Gerion's crew was entirely composed of mainlanders, mostly Westerossi, who by all accounts were not afraid to admit they weren't keen to remain on the sea for longer than necessary.
I was tempted to gloss over the sights of this town, or more appropriately described as a large village, just like I did with Orkmont entirely, because it didn't really seem worth a trip just to visit a particular settlement with a population that barely reached seven thousand. But I've been spending so much time looking around the castles of these Seven Kingdoms that I found it worth pausing every now and then to see how the other 95% of the people lived.
As I've just brought up, there were perhaps seven thousand souls who called Pebbleton home and they lived a humble life proven by how most houses around here were little more than hovels, and I couldn't help but notice that the boats in the harbor were kept in better repair. Like most settlements in the Iron Islands, it was located nearby the coast and made the best of its rare natural harbor.
All around the town hung the stench of fish and salt, almost everyone seemed to be involved in the fisheries industry in some way, with root vegetables and the like being sourced from the small patches of farmland outside the town walls or brought in from the mainland through what appear to be one of the few exceptions in regards of proper trading. Life in these Islands was very much a hand-to-mouth existence for those not living in a castle.
The apparently made do with a high stone wall that surrounded the town, and highest of all was Pebbleton's tower, the seat of House Merlyn no less. I wager that this was where the small folk would seek sanctuary if there was a raid of any kind, but in truth that didn't seem likely to happen any time soon since it's normally the Ironborn doing the raiding on this part of the world anyway.
Lingering just enough on these streets in order to have my retinue's presence noticed by the small folk as they proudly displayed my Royal Legion's banners while equipped with distinct armor, and after trading enough of our goods so to spread the tales about their quality, we eventually had sufficient exposure to the small folk and decided to avoid wasting time with House Merlyn's unnecessary pageantry by immediately setting ourselves on walking inland for a couple of days.
The change of pace was more than felt, surprisingly in this short period of time spent sailing the sunset sea I found myself establishing some sort of connection with this terrain, similar to how I now felt with the magical underground crypts I delved so oftenly. Hopefully I will be able to translate this growing bond to a keen sense on how to expertly judge the ocean, naturally making precise calculations in order to pull any situation off when sailing by myself.
Eventually, during a brief break from this land of wannabe Vikings, my group and I ended up finding the rarest of things in this region, an Ironborn castle not on the shore, but nearby a mining camp. The hard stone hills in the center of Great Wyk were nearly mountains, and I'm sure there would not be a castle at all if it were not for the abundance of iron ore. Incidentally, there was a school of thought that this was why the iron men were called that after the copious amounts of iron ore on the Iron Islands. Of course, the Ironmen themselves claimed it was because of their strong character and fighting abilities, but… well… anyone could decide it for themselves.
As one might have assumed, getting here could've been described as a tough journey for most unprepared people, fortunately that wasn't the case for those accepted into my Royal Legion, who were nothing if not well trained in marching and camping. A steady march and aptitude with quickly securing an area for rest was just as important as all the work I've focused on establishing a reliable supply system, probably even more since dead men felt no hunger.
Regardless, as I laid my eyes on Hammerhorn Castle as it stood atop a cliff, I noticed how it rose out of the landscape almost as if it was a natural part of it, the gray stone of its walls merged with the hills around it. In order to get to the main gate, my retinue and I were required to walk past the entrance to the mines, picking our way through the small folk who work here, seemingly all hours of the day.
Though if I was being honest about it, these weren't exactly the same as the small folk I've met days ago on Pebbleton, but thralls or at the very least the descendants of those captured in the Ironborn infamous raids. Indentured servants for a lack of better terms, other than slaves in all but name. Even the least knowledgeable of my men knew that the practice of keeping thralls has long since been abandoned on mainland Westeros, but clearly here in the Iron Islands it was still allowed by some weird reason.
These Thralls could only be obtained by paying the Iron Price, which was a rather sanitized way of saying that they were ripped from their homes against their will and forced to work here in the mines for the rest of their lives. Their children were condemned to the same fate as well, unless they converted to the religion of the Drowned God, which wasn't all that preferable given their historical background and relationship with such faith.
I get that the Ironmen solely relied on technicalities, claiming that these people weren't slaves since they couldn't be bought or sold, but that was a distinction that shouldn't have stuck with how zealous the Faith of the Seven was up until now. I mean, even back with the first Targaryens kings the regular men risked becoming Dragon's supper just because they were marrying brothers to sisters. Obviously that trivial distinction was nonexistent before my modern mentality, especially since there was no way out for these poor people to have anything better than it.
I didn't care what name the Ironborn gave it, this was still considered inhumane even by the other kingdoms standards. Although contrary to the dragon Queen, I wasn't planning to trade a greater evil for a lesser one and go full Crucifying the Masters here. Instead, I decided to play smart and gain the favor of both groups by moving the economy from effort-intensive to care-intensive activities all thanks to my latest breakthrough with necromancy magic. Neither side might look at me as their savior or best ally, but they wouldn't oppose me as vehemently as the slave master did to Daenerys during her rise to power. At least not until I was sure they wouldn't pose even the slightest inconvenience to my future plans.
Nevertheless…as I was saying, Hammerhorn, at Hardstone Hills on Great Wyk, was the seat of the main line of House Goodbrother in the Iron Islands, with their blazon displaying a gold-banded black warhorn on red. House Goodbrother had at least three cadet branches on Great Wyk, the Goodbrothers of Corpse Lake, the Goodbrothers of Crow Spike Keep, and the Goodbrothers of Downdelving. Other branches included the Goodbrothers of Shatterstone on Old Wyk and the Goodbrothers of Orkmont.
Looking up at their castle now closer than before, with its thick dark stone walls and spiky battlements, my men and I approached it seeking a place to spend the night. As we were allowed entrance, my inner circle got the chance to see how Hammerhorn's hall was dank and drafty, even if it ended up somehow giving a different vibe from the other Ironborn castles I've been visiting lately.
"Welcome to Hammerhorn, Crown Prince Durrandon! My family and I are pleased to see that you've survived your journey through the sea, and all in one piece." The man greeted me with a boastful smile while introducing him and his family. "My name is Gorold Goodbrother, and these are…."
As Lord Goodbrother of Hammerhorn went on to tell me trivial matters I already knew, such as their names and ages, I took the time to go beyond what my Observe skill usually handed freely. The man before me was strong despite his age, having sired all those twelve girls and three triplet boys, which the latter three appeared to be just past their eighth name day. I'd wager neither Gorold or his wife were satisfied until they got a male heir, probably given how male centric this society of pirate-vikings was described to be, lo and behold they got three all at once.
Still, 15 offspring was nothing compared to Walder Frey, who supposedly sired at least 34 trueborn sons and daughters from eight marriages, and that's without counting all those born out of wedlock, but by herself Lady Goodbrother must have broken a record or something in this day and age.
"It's a pleasure to meet you all!" I courteously replied, showing genuine gratitude for their hospitality before allowing Gerion to do the rest of the talking for me, only to notice a few expecting looks from the younger daughters of Lord Goodbrother.
I suppose it must be hard finding suitable matches for all of these girls. The Ironborn women weren't exactly ugly, but neither were they considered pretty, otherwise so many Ironmen wouldn't risk all the trouble of claiming multiple Salt Wives and having to live with them interacting with one another just because they looked attractive enough.
Reminds me that Thoros once claimed something about what the Ironborn women lacked in comeliness; they more than compensated with stronger and curvaceous bodies, only for Jalabhar Xho to remark dismissively that Summer Islander were considerably better. Memories of the exciting nights I had with Chataya led me to agree with him in silence, but if the occasion ever came, I wouldn't refuse the embrace of an Iron Islander woman. Especially if she was a princess, even if for a brief moment.
But enough about them…The reason I've come out of my way seeking a meeting with House Goodbrother was slightly different from the one that led me to secure both House Harlaw and House Blacktyde's support. You see, unlike most great houses of the Iron Islands who claimed direct descent from the Grey King, the Goodbrothers claimed descent from the Grey King's loyal eldest brother, and that wasn't the only thing they had that was considered uncommon.
Since their wealth did not come from the Sunset Sea, or any other foreign sea, but from their mines deep beneath the earth, it led them to earn a certain level of disdain from their fellow Ironmen, one that I anticipated had developed to become mutual when a lord of such pride was involved. A perfect combo of attributes I was hoping to find on any reliable ally if I worded my offer well. Once our unwarned appearance was courteously explained, I left my Greatuncle responsible for striking a mutually beneficial deal with the Maester of this castle and requested a private meeting with Lord Goodbrother himself.
"Lord Goodbrother, you have my gratitude for your courtesy in understanding the reason behind the absence of a raven warning beforehand of our arrival." Since I was on a tight schedule, I didn't beat around the bush with what I knew. "My grandfather has sent me here to demonstrate the seriousness in his wish to prepare for the war to come. And also to make me understand the necessary risks a man must face in order to never grow complacent."
"No need for thanking me, little prince, it simply wouldn't do for my house to refuse a member of the royal family the proper hospitality they deserve." He casually dismissed it while displaying a different posture from the one he publicly greeted me with, before turning even more serious. "Ever since I heard the news of a Royal Legion being raised so suddenly after years of peace following your father's successful rebellion, I had a small suspicion that the Greyjoy's scheme must've been somehow uncovered by the Lord of the Rock. Seems I was right after all, heh." Gorold Goodbrother remarked, hinting that he felt he wasn't in a position to fear anything. "But I suppose I must compliment you lad for your bravery in coming this far despite knowing what's really happening, you must really be confident in the capabilities of the men serving you."
"With my life." I said while meeting his gaze and showed that I wasn't so easily intimidated. "I understand you've received a letter from both Lord Harlaw and Lord Blackwynd." I remarked while subtly repeating the method I used up until now to manipulate my way around these Ironborn lords. "You wouldn't be the first Ironmen to understand the folly of such a plan Balon Greyjoy had come up with. Best case scenario, your first attack might've been successful. But news would've inevitably traveled very quickly after that, and you all underestimate the animosity people of the continent have against the historical record of your people. Rebels and Loyalists would band together to squash your pitiful rebellion. My father at the very least had the support of other major houses like the Starks, Arryns and Tullys when he rebelled. What do you have? A Declaration of Independence from a man that believes just because my father hasn't made him swear fealty to him that nothing bad will happen to him once his pitiful revolt is put down. How bad this picture gets if you include the fact that we will be expecting your ships? Perhaps by the time the approaching winter ends all of Westeros' fleets will have brought this whole archipelago to heel."
The Ironborn lord reflected over my words for a moment before sighing and replying. "You are no liar and your assessment is fairly logical, my prince. But you can't expect me to be intimidated by the odds." He tapped his finger over his desk while finally going for the relevant question. "So what are you offering?"
"It's already too late to stop your leige lord from leading your people into a rebellion they can't possibly succeed." I reasoned a point I knew we both agreed to. "And I won't lie, the fallout of such defiance won't be pretty. My grandfather has been waiting for another opportunity to repeat the example he made of the Reynes of Castamere for a long time. And if your people raid and pillage a city or two, he will have all the justification to do so. Perhaps even gaining the support of my father to integrate the Iron Islands as part of the Westerlands. I'm sure the Faith wouldn't mind at all bringing the numbers of kingdoms closer to the number seven. So what I'm offering is all the support you will need to become the strongest house of the Iron Islands after the Rebellion is over."
"You expect me to betray my King?" Gorold asked, not as much because I had offended his honor but more because of his pride, as the Ironborn lord was conflicted by the fact that I had mentioned the possibility that their region might be ruled by the Lannisters.
"Balon Greyjoy would only become King after he paid the iron price for it. However, how long would it take for my father and his supporters to take it back from him, putting an end to the uncontrolled raids his rule would've brought to all of Westeros?" I reasoned with him. "And where is it written that your leader must be a kraken? What right does Pyke have to rule you all? Great Wyk is the largest isle, Harlaw the richest, Old Wyk the most holy. When the Hoare's line was consumed by dragonfire, the ironborn gave the primacy to Vickon Greyjoy, indeed... but as lord, not king."
Lord Goodbrother remained silent, but I could clearly see signs of him agreeing to the point I was making.
"I'm also aware that your people crave battle and glory, soon I will be expanding my Royal Region to possess its own fleet and I believe the Ironborn will prove to be great candidates for bolstering my military sea force ranks." I added to the sweetened deal, giving him a good idea of what might help him come on top as not a mere servant of the Lannister, but as a representative standing in similar ground. "I won't lie to you, the Iron Throne has plans to expand its territory of influence, and I believe your people would be just as enthusiastic about conquering new seas as the people of the continent are in regards to conquering new lands. Think about it… the Narrow Sea, Summer Sea, Shivering Sea, Jade Sea and many many more."
"How long do I have to make my choice?" Lord Goodbrother asked, finally betraying some willingness to accept my proposal. Anyone else would've tread very carefully to not offend him and risk losing everything, but persuasion wasn't solely relied upon befriending others.
"Up until tomorrow morning. My group will be marching away towards our ship with my proposition discarded and your house considered as another enemy we will have to deal with, unless I have your three sons leaving with me to become wards at Casterly Rock. This should be enough of an excuse to not sail with the other Ironborn houses and something to clear your house's name once the people of the continent began seeking retribution against your people." I said while standing up and preparing to leave his solar. "I've offered you valuable support and the certainty that you wouldn't be the only Ironborn house to take the side of reason. Now it's all up to you. If you still believe that Lord Greyjoy's rebellion might have the slightest chance to succeed, go and warn him immediately that he already lost the element of surprise."
Gerold remained silent this time. Intimidation was not only a valid alternative, but also one that these Iron Islanders seemed to have a strange form of respect for. That and the extent I was capable of rewarding them.
"And if House Goodbrother becomes a valuable vassal house to the Crown, Gerion Lannister also has some great trade deals with Casterly Rock for the amount of iron you produce here. Perhaps we might even have an alternative to increase your production without having to rely on miserable thralls." I concluded, and before walking out of his solar I added. "Which is my way of declaring that practice abolished from now onwards. Any house that practices it by the time the Greyjoys rebel will also be labeled as criminals."
Lord Goodbrother could be stupid enough to refuse my offer and send his guards to secure me in order to have something to blackmail my father with. But that would've merely been an amusing challenge at best, even if my soldiers weren't in the very best shape I knew they were and I decided to not lift a finger, even guarding this room entrance Sandor alone had the power to eventually kill every single warrior in this castle. And if that somehow failed, my undead and Sahuagin servants would make a bloodbath without much effort.
'C'mon, stupid Viking. Just accept my offer already! I can't wait to test out my plans of having several undeads mining day and night without having to stop even for a minute.' I told myself before leading my Swornsword and disguised Death Knight toward the source of magic that most likely was the Magical Dungeon of this castle.
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Entering the secret passage I found in the main hall, I was blown away by what greeted me as soon as I finished my descent through the stairs that so oftenly led me into another one of these pocket dimensions. The image before me was a mess of a tunnel filled with several pathways of different sizes that reminded me of an anthill, almost as if something had burrowed them with their own claws, which inadvertently made it a real nightmare for anyone with Trypophobia (the fear of patterns of clustered holes, bumps, or nodules… don't search it even if you think you don't have it).
The barely lit untouched stone still displayed the familiar layout of the tunnels I've been exploring ever since the one I've found under the Red Keep. Though from the recent experience I've had with both the magical dungeons under the castles of house Harlaw and Blacktyde, I found the lack of bodies of water and the occasional vein of iron ore on the walls rather noticeable. The former was easily explained by how geographically distant Hammerhorn was from Great Wyk's shores, however that didn't make any sense for the latter given how much more abundant iron was on this island.
Ordering my Nightwalker to come out once again, I had it subtly send ahead all of its echoes to scout deep into the small holes on the tunnel ceiling, walls and ground so as to find out what I was dealing with down here. While I had left both my fey and celestial familiars, Shadow and Light, keeping a discreet watch of my Sahuagin servants whose trust I couldn't completely rely on yet, the reason why I decided to not force them into another dungeon this early after freeing them, leaving me to work with both my heavy hitters.
"This place doesn't seem stable, Don. All this shit spread throughout the damn place would make it so much easier to collapse." Sandor Clegane remarked, clearly finding the strangeness of it all just as worrisome, his Eyes of the Night as a Twilight cleric granting him a superior sight even in the darkest gloom. The reason that Clegane didn't react to the fact that I sent several echoes of my undead servant was because they had remained invisible, which trumped the best of nightvision. Kicking a pebble down the closest pit, we heard it echoing down for so long that the sound eventually went too low to notice. "Shit, doesn't seem to have an end."
As my Swornshield shrugged, I noticed him instantly equipping an armor set very similar to the one my Death Knight wore, with infusions that made it invaluable for this day and age.
"Don't worry, Clegane, we won't be taking unnecessary risks. The fact is, places like these are the safest location for most of my magical experiments, also excellent for some privacy." I told him while sitting down on the ground with my legs crossed, retrieving from my Inventory my metalic wand with my left hand and my Grimoire with my right one. "Would you kindly keep watch alongside Sir Knight while I finish a few matters?"
"Sure, take your time kid." Sandor replied, actually relieved to be somewhere he didn't have to hide his healed face from others, turning his gaze towards the always reserved disguised undead, he briefly ignored my Death Knight in favor of picking up a small mirror from his limited Inventory so as to appreciate his facial features once again before eventually starting to pay more active attention to our surroundings.
'Who would've guessed the bloody hound would turn out to be so narcissistic?' I briefly mused with a mental chuckle before focusing my attention back on my magical studies.
With more ideas and formulas for Third class spells basically resolving themselves in my head, I had finally decided to work my way around them even without putting them to practice. While conjuring spells were harder to perform inside these dungeons, given the powerful wards placed throughout these places, the one that I managed to successfully create clearly didn't make it any easier for me.
{ARCANE TOWER Lv- 1(0%)}
[THIRD CLASS CONJURATION SPELL: You conjure a two-story tower made of stone, wood, or similar suitably sturdy materials. The tower can be round or square in shape. Each level of the tower is 3 meters tall and has an area of up to 40 square meters. Access between levels consists of a simple ladder and hatch. Each level takes one of the following forms, chosen by you when you cast the spell: A bedroom with beds, chairs, chest and a magical fireplace. A study with desks, books, bookshelves, parchments, ink and ink pens. A dining space with a table, chairs, magical fireplace, containers and cooking utensils. A lounge with couches, armchairs, side tables and footstools. A washroom with toilets, wash tubs, a magical brazier and sauna benches. An observatory with a telescope and maps of the night sky. Or an unfurnished, empty room. The interior of the tower is warm and dry, regardless of conditions outside. Any equipment or furnishings conjured with the tower dissipate into smoke if removed from it. At the end of the spell's duration, all creatures and objects within the tower that were not created by the spell appear safely outside on the ground, and all traces of the tower and its furnishings disappear. You can cast this spell again while it is active to maintain the tower's existence for another 24 hours. You can create a permanent tower by casting this spell in the same location and with the same configuration every day for an entire month.]
CASTING TIME: 10 MINUTES
RANGE: 10 METERS
COMPONENTS: V, S AND M (a fragment of stone, wood, or other building material)
DURATION: 24 HOURS.
That seems a little unreasonable, not because of the quick crafting of a two-story building, I was already running with the idea that I would eventually become the second coming of Bran the Builder, no, what's too crazy to believe is that I could magically personalize each level as I saw fit. Fully stocked bedroom, office room, dining space, lounge, washroom, a freaking observatory or a blank canvas of an empty room. Even if I couldn't bring stuff outside of it, that's hardly a problem while I have access to my Inventory and the ability to quickly craft what I already have recipes and materials for.
Now… finally picking up the glass candle I got my hands on during my visit to Oldtown, I confirmed several observations and theories Page and I have come up with especially during my sleepless nights in the sea.
The source of this breakthrough with the glass candles came from a small question. What feeds a dragon's fire? All Valyrian sorcery was rooted in blood or fire. The sorcerers of the Freehold could see across mountains, seas and deserts with one of these glass candles. They could enter a man's dreams and give him visions or speak to one another half a world apart, seated before their candles. I think to say that these candles might be useful is a massive understatement. But instead of unlocking some sort of blood Magic specialization, I got this…
{SCRYING Lv- 1(0%)}
[THIRD CLASS DIVINATION SPELL: You create an invisible sensor in a location familiar to you (a place you have visited or seen before) that is on the same plane of existence as you or with the range of a mile in an obvious location that is unfamiliar to you (such as behind a door, around a corner, or in a grove of trees). The sensor remains in place for the duration, and it can't be attacked or otherwise interacted with. You can see and hear through the sensor as if you were in its space. A creature that can see the sensor (such as a creature benefitting from the ability to see through invisibility or a form of truesight) sees a luminous, intangible orb about the size of your fist. Areas and targets warded against divination magic are off limits for this spell to work.]
CASTING TIME: 10 MINUTES
RANGE: SAME PLANE
COMPONENTS: V, S AND M (a focus worth at least 1,000 gp, such as a crystal ball, a silver mirror, or a font filled with holy water)
DURATION: CONCENTRATION, UP TO 10 MINUTES.
Finally! I've been meaning to put this 3 feet pile of obsidian, palantír variant, to good use. The fact that I require to have previously been in a certain place to bypass the mile range limitation is mostly a minor setback while I still haven't unlocked fast travel through these dungeons. While I will keep it in mind to secure all the glass candles in the possession of the Maesters in order to establish a better line of communication with my closest allies, for now, it will suffice to allow me to peep at all the people and places I've already laid my eyes upon.
Finishing my inner analysis of all the new spells I've created alongside Page's input just in time to receive some answers from the scouting echoes of my Nightwalker, I was once again pleasantly surprised by the variety of species these dungeons had to offer. Honestly, after the first few only revealed hordes of undead to me, I wrongly assumed that it would be just about everything that I would have to deal with.
But now…after quickly skinning and butchering the bodies of almost every creature they were able to find in the short time we were here, the main body of my undead servant brought me a living worthy candidate for becoming my next pet monster. With four insect-like legs and a squat, small, humped body, its hide was thick and lumpy, with a yellowish tan on the belly and rust-red on the back. Its tail ended in what looked like a double ended paddle and two long antennae came out of its head, one under each eye.
Using my Observe skill just for accuracy sake…
{RUST MONSTER, TINY MONSTROSITY}
{LV - 15}
POW: 39
MOB: 36
END: 39
INT: 6
STL: 20
DEF: 30* (Natural Armor)
HP: 500
SPEED: 40 ft.
SENSES: DARKVISION 60 ft.
LANGUAGES: It speaks no language.
[IRON SCENT: The rust monster can pinpoint, by scent, the location of ferrous metal within 10 meters of it.]
[RUST METAL: Any non-magical weapon or armor made of metal that hits or is hit by the rust monster corrodes. After making contact the ferrous metal takes a permanent and cumulative penalty to its integrity until it's eventually destroyed. Non-magical ammunition made of metal that hits the rust monster is quickly destroyed after dealing damage.]
*A docile creature by nature, only when it senses a source of non magical metal that its behavior takes a stark contrast almost as if its brain shuts off and something else takes control. They always went for the biggest source of metal first, and preferred ferrous metals over precious ones, some can smell metal even from 30 meters away. Rust monsters ate the rust of freshly rusted metal objects that had been affected by its symbiotic relationship with a specialized sort of bacteria, colonizing its stomach and antennas, that is capable of digesting rust into nutrients and a sugar special compound.
'Well, I presume that explains the lack of iron veins on this tunnel and also the absurd amount of holes, these poor fellas were just hungry.' I thought while approaching the restrained monstrosity, freeing it from its binds.
Come to think of it, the major difference between the average beast with these monsters appears to be its stronger relationship with magic. Further experiments are in order to put that theory to the test, but for now, my ability to speak the True Tongue and Beast Master title as Ranger seem to be more than enough to keep beings like my mimic and the slime under moderate control.
The creature spoke in a clicking and chittering manner, reminding me of Yautja's speech (the Predator's race) as it genuinely appeared to be happy once I fed it an iron dagger from my Inventory. It wasn't the very first one I've earned as a reward from my training quest with Barristan Selmy, merly one from the never ending amount of daggers I crafted just to grind my skills, something I picked up from my time playing Skyrim.
"That's a big freaking bug." Sandor spoke up, suddenly noticing the puppy-sized beetle munching on a piece of metal. "Isn't it dangerous?"
"It could be." I quickly replied, amused by how quickly Sandor raised his guard in the prospect of danger. "Though not while it is kept well fed. Similar to this peculiar creature." I signed at my pet mimic stuck to my belt while feeding a small piece of meat to its mouth. Sandor watched the seemingly normal coin pouch manifest an eye and retractable sharp teeth.
"I don't know why I'm still surprised by it. Everything surrounding you isn't normal." My Swornshield dismissed and resumed his watch, though I could still hear him grunt to himself. "Hmpf. I guess that also includes me."
Smiling at Clegane's antics, I placed my pets beside one another. From the looks of it, Gobble had gained some weight and his size was slightly bigger than when I first met him.
"You great master!" The small creature said, each word mimicking a different voice, while staring at me with its slit-pupil eyes.
"I'm just keeping our deal." I told it while patting it gently before picking up a small vial and proceeding to harvest a little bit of the adhesive spittle the small shapeshifter produced.
"Click, click…srrr." I heard the small Rust Monster clicking speech, signaling it had eaten everything I've offered it.
"I was planning on calling you Rusty and calling it a day." I said picking up the small insect as if it was a puppy. "But I've changed my mind… Tarnisher seems more appropriate. Given how useful this bacteria of yours might be with corroding inorganic matter such as metal."
"Srrr… click, click click." It replied in a docile manner.
"Oh…" I recalled another pet I haven't paid all that much attention to lately. Picking up the medium bottle where I store the small remaining of one of the oozes I've killed in that dungeon on Oldtown, I noticed it had also grown bigger, though not by a lot. At this level, it was nowhere near a threat to me or anyone, acting more like my cleansing jelly. "My least intelligent pet. I've been wondering if you can even hear me."
Uncorking the bottle, I allowed the jolly green slime slighter out of its containment. Witnessing its effort to reassemble itself into a round shape, I noticed the ground right beneath it was immediately polished as if I had casted my Thaumaturgy cantrip on it, as well as sighting its gelatinous nature forming a few pseudopods to keep it from rolling away.
"There you go. Can you also shapechange at will?" I asked while picking it up closer to my face, hoping to see if it was able to mimic one of my features. Its acidic properties were still weak, but even if it wasn't, I was confident that my Arcane Armor on top of my Runed Bronze Armor could ignore any damage it was capable of dealing. Though as the time went on and the puddle of ooze didn't seem to understand me at all, I placed it back on the ground and tossed at it another piece of meat. Sighing, I thought to myself. "I'm not sure what I was expecting, either the next coming of the mighty Rimuru Tempest or just the cutest stuff that was Suu."
Storing both Tarnisher and my Cleaning Jelly back to my Inventory, I stuck Gobble back to my waist and moved on alongside both Sandor and my disguised Death Knight to finally clear this dungeon.
Fortunately I didn't bring them both with me in vain, for soon after as we made our way deeper into the main path we were almost ambushed by towering brutes that thought themselves sneaky. Raising my hand, I immediately drew the attention of my followers to the locations my Minimap pinpointed. Picking a couple of jars filled with my Alchemist Fire creation from my Inventory, I baited my opponents out of their cover with supposedly misfired Eldritch Blasts.
"Raaarrrrr!" Three 9 feet tall creatures that resembled the cross between a hulking gorilla and a thick armored beetle, with massive mandibles coming out of their mouths, bursted out of their covers while roaring in fury before charging headfirst towards my group.
"Catch!" I shouted while throwing at them my magical Molotov cocktails with great dexterity.
Belittling the danger my luminous jars posed to them, these creatures decided that it wasn't worth the effort to dodge and bulldozed through them instead.
*CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Fssssssss!
"Reeeee!" The foolish brutes screeched in pain as the fire almost consumed their entire frames, the dim-lit tunnel suddenly appeared to be outdoors for a brief moment before the creatures attempted to extinguish the blazing flames, only to fail miserably.
Taking my time, amidst this sadistic fever dream, to Observe what I was dealing with, I was informed…
{UMBER HULK, LARGE MONSTROSITY}
{LV - 70}
POW: 60
MOB: 39
END: 48
INT: 27
STL: 20
DEF: 70* (Natural armor: 75% resistance to all non magical damage)
HP: 10000 (-1000 HP…-1000HP…-1000HP…)
SPEED: 30 ft. Burrow 20 ft.
SENSES: DARKVISION 120 ft., TRENORSENSE 60 ft.
LANGUAGES: HULKING.
[CONFUSING GAZE: When a creature is within 10 meters of the umber hulk and is able to make direct contact with the umber hulk's small eyes, the umber hulk can magically force it into incapacitating confusion or memory loss, unless the umber hulk is incapacitated itself.]
[TUNNELER: The umber hulk can burrow through solid rock at half its burrowing speed and leaves a 2 meter-wide, 3-meter-high tunnel in its wake.]
*An abominable horror from deep beneath the earth, an umber hulk burrows into cave complexes, dungeons, or Underdark settlements in search of food—especially the humanoid prey it craves. Its chitinous armor is stronger than steel, enabling them to shrug off cave-ins as if they were nothing, and their claws can go through solid stone as if it were butter. …
As these Umber Hulks' screams of pain died down alongside them, I was pleasantly surprised by the fact their chitin exoskeleton somehow was the only thing remaining. Sandor even confirmed its integrity with a kick followed by a snicker. "You could've left one for me."
"Don't worry, I'm sure you will still have your challenge." I said right before the tunnel structure began to shake, giving space to recently made tunnels as more of those creatures burrowed out of solid stone.
"These fuckers can't just use the same holes they've already dig out?" Sandor grunted while unsheathing his infused longsword.
"It's intentional. Cave-ins might be the best way to deal with dangerous prey." I informed him. "Since I might need some of their flammable body parts, I won't be cooking them again, just avoid their gaze if you rather not forget how to eat by yourself."
This seemed to be enough of a warning for my Swornshield, as he dashed ahead, ready to put his Battlemaster superior techniques to good use. Turning to look at my disguised Death Knight, I also gave it the green light to face these monsters.
What came next was an amusing experiment of my followers and the magical equipment I granted them. Despite their mighty claws and mandibles, they weren't enough to scratch the armor improved with my infusions. And their carapace, despite being somewhat resistant to my Alchemist fire, couldn't withstand the magical edge of my weapons.
"Grrrrrr! DIEEEEE!" Sandor's warcry echoed all around as he went into a battle frenzy, which visibly boosted his mobility, power and endurance stats to inhuman levels. The action surge and rage Clegane possessed, although of lesser power compared to mine, still gave him a noticeable edge even against such opponents. Just as well as his titles features did, such as how his own twilight domain healed him from any injury and his vow of enmity left his targets at his mercy. "Oh hell no, now you fucked up! Pick a god and pray!"
As for my Death Knight, even while disguised as a handsome man, it never betrayed its feelings with simple things such as words or grunts, but I could clearly distinguish the burning inferno of hate that his eyes emanated. His strength was such, even without my aid in enlarging it, that it occasionally thrashed those umber hulks with its bare hands. His undead nature and necrotic gaze more than surpassed those gorillas-beetles' confusing gaze, leaving them permanently frightened if not for his greatsword's massive range putting them out of their misery.
By the time a pile of bodies began forming surrounding my two heavy hitters, the few remaining Umber Hulks proved their Intelligence stat and cleverly decided to retreat back through their recently burrowed tunnels, prompting those passages to collapse after them. As Sandor unequipped his helmet to wipe the sweat from his brow, my disguised Death Knight kneeled down and began fiddling with the corpses on the ground, probably curious to see if it could use its newest power through them. As it displayed some dissatisfaction, throwing limbs far away, I reached its side and placed my hand on its shoulder.
"Not yet, my knight. You will need to begin small and work your way up the ladder. Clearly these weren't the last of their kind and I believe by the time we see them again you will be more than ready." I told it, casually dismissing Sandor's confused glare at us and sending him to scout ahead.
As my Death Knight accepted my words, it raised to its full height once again and we finally proceeded towards the end of this dungeon. This time meeting no other form of resistance or worthwhile encounters, other than what appeared to be booby traps already deactivated probably thanks to this place's abundant population of metal eating and stoned digging creatures.
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(03/01/2022)
(05/01/2022)
(02/02/2022)
(11/01/2023)
…
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Daichi_TBR193
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