Playing God 5

Preface

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Playing God 5

Charlie Foxtrot

I stepped through the torii gate with a confident swagger in my step and a bouncy pomp to my tails. I was an immensely powerful monk and cleric with some of the most potent defensive spells known to YGGDRASIL. If nothing else, my AGI attribute exceeded natural limits. I was sure that even should I be threatened, I could either make myself useful and sue for peace or get the hell out of dodge.

Most of all, I was curious. The World Penetration Gate, the hallmark skill of the World Explorer Class, could open a Gate anywhere. Now that I was free of the shackles of YGGDRASIL, where would it lead me? What wonders would I see? As the man who explored every inch of Midgard, I couldn’t wait.

“Well… It’s definitely not Tristain…” I muttered as I looked out upon the sandy expanse. Red dunes greeted me as far as the eye could see, and my eyes could see far. “Am I in Egypt or something?”

There was not a cloud in sight. The sun beat down upon me. Hot, arid winds rustled my fur. It was an odd feeling, knowing that an unprepared human would likely die of heatstroke within a day here while I stood nice and toasty.

Seeing how there was nothing around me, I cast a quick Fly and took to the sky. Off in the distance, I found a winding river set in the middle of a basin. Judging by the position of the sun, the river flowed from west to east.

The nearby hills of compact sandstone sheltered it from much of the desert sand and spots of vegetation could be seen growing along its floodplain. It wasn’t a very large river in the grand scheme of things, but I could guess that it was big enough not to dry up during the hotter months.

“‘Water is the cradle of civilization,’” I quoted an old book I’d read once.

It was true. Practically every major city, every major empire, had developed along a water source. And seeing how the whole place was mostly a desert, I could safely assume I’d run into civilization eventually if I followed this river to the coast.

“Well, assuming there is civilization here anyway,” I mused. I supposed there was always a possibility that I’d landed in a world in which sentient life had not developed yet, or one in which sentient life had died out due to some unknown calamity.

The pristine ruggedness of the natural vista around me suggested the former was more likely, but I couldn’t be sure. Either would be interesting in its own way.

If I really was alone here, I was considering terraforming the desert into something more convenient for me, perhaps a desert garden full of useful herbs and spices. And if I was really ahead of humanity, then maybe I’d get to find out what roasted t-rex tastes like.

Thoughts filled with possibilities, I alighted onto the riverbank. Now that I was closer, the river was quite a bit wider than it looked from the air. It was a slow-moving river, with plenty of shallows and marshy areas.

Seeing it reminded me of the times I used to go fishing in my past life, before being reborn into Overlord, before becoming a corporate wage-slave. I had fond memories of grilling fish with my cousins by the riverside. My world had been smaller then, full of luxuries I’d taken for granted.

“Well, why not?” I mused with a bittersweet smile. “It’s not like I have anywhere to be in a hurry.”

So, I conjured up a fishing rig using a seventh-tier spell called Create Greater Item. It was one of the spells I’d specifically sought out in YGGDRASIL.

Back then, it was a spell that could be used to fashion weapons of all types. The created weapons were not magical and would vanish in a given timeframe so trolls wouldn’t overload the server. It was mostly used by enchanters or magic archers who needed disposable weapons to quickly enchant into bombs.

I’d picked it because I knew it’d become far more versatile in the New World. Momonga used it to create a wooden chair for example. From what I could tell, I could make anything so long as it: a) wasn’t innately magical and b) wasn’t too complex, meaning I could understand the material structure and function. The fiberglass fishing rod in my hand said I could get quite nuanced with this gem.

I conjured up a chair to lounge on and a straw hat to shade my eyes, ear-holes included, of course. I then dug a hole with Mold Earth before filling that with water. Fresh fish could go in there. Finally, I grabbed a book from my library and settled down for a relaxing day. 

I spent the day like that. It was morning when I’d arrived and the hours flowed by like the water in the river, slowly, and with plenty of delicious fish. I set up a charcoal grill that I ate from whenever I started feeling peckish. 

The sun had passed the halfway point, so maybe it was two or three in the afternoon when I heard the dull plodding of hooves on dirt. I was engrossed in my book, Fellowship of the Ring, so I didn’t bother to look. The steps drew nearer. Several minutes later, as Legolas shot an arrow through the cave troll’s mouth, I heard two gasps of surprise.

I dog-eared the page and set the book aside before turning to my two guests. They were a pair of young women wearing tan, hooded overcoats that trailed down to their ankles. Blonde and black locks poked out from beneath their hoods. Between the hem of their overcoats, I could see much finer clothes. They’d arrived on two, slim horses that seemed at home in the desert heat.

I stood. It was rude to sit down while speaking to strangers and I wasn’t looking for trouble.

“Hello there,” I greeted, tails wagging gently. “How do you do?”

The two looked at one another in unspoken conversation before finally deciding to approach. I noticed that the blonde stood slightly in front of the black-haired one, as if ready to leap to her defense. 

Now that they were closer, I could see under their hoods. Both were quite pretty, but younger than I’d first imagined a pair of travelers being. They were perhaps sixteen? Eighteen at the oldest. The dark-haired one was quite short while the blonde was of average height.

“Hello, I must admit I am at a loss,” the taller one said. She spoke with an innocence that was almost lyrical, but I could see the hint of caution in her eyes.

She made a strange sign with her hands. At first, I thought she was gathering mana for a spell, but I felt no such thing. In fact, Mana Essence told me that she had barely more than the horse she’d ridden here. She could be better at hiding than I was at seeing, but that wasn’t likely.

I didn’t know where I was, but since they were riding horses, I could only assume the pair came from a rather underdeveloped people. I judged that the hand signs were a form of greeting and replied in kind.

Even if they weren’t, humans liked it when those around them mirrored their body language anyway. “Oh? What has you at a loss, girl?”

“I’m afraid I do not know how to refer to you. Are you a demon? Or perhaps one of the Children of the Forest? If you are, I believe you are very far from home.”

That made me pause. “Children of the Forest” was an epithet for several potential races: dryads, elves, nymphs, fae, satyrs, and more. But I could practically hear the capital letters in her question. I could tell that she was referring to something rather specific.

“If by ‘Children of the Forest,’ you mean a nature spirit, I suppose a kitsune such as myself can fall under the broad umbrella,” I said, not wishing to misidentify myself with whatever stereotypes she’d grown up with. “However, if that phrase refers to a specific people group or race of magical entities, I must reject the label.”

“Kitsune?” the dark-haired woman wondered, rolling the unfamiliar word in her mouth. Assuming she wasn’t entirely ignorant, it seemed her society had no conception of kitsune, or yokai in general. “What is a kitsune?”

“Why, only the most beautiful, adorable, fluffiest of races, of course!” I exclaimed with a smile worthy of a toothpaste commercial. My tails fanned wide, allowing the luxurious, white fur to catch the sunlight. “Behold, the perfect pinnacle of fluffy!”

“Are they really real? How many do you have?”

“I have nine tails, making me a kyubi no kitsune, which naturally means that I am the greatest, fluffiest of all kitsune,” I boasted haughtily.

“Of course,” she said with an indulgent nod. But I could see her eyes flickering to my tails. Obviously, she wanted to pet them. It was a completely understandable reaction. “I am Arianne Martell, and this is my cousin, Tyene. What shall we call you, oh fluffiest one?”

“‘Oh fluffiest one’ seems appropriate,” I said with a laugh. Their names sounded somewhat familiar. “I am Charlie Foxtrot, he of far too many titles, and now yet another.”

“What are you doing by the river?” Tyene asked curiously. She peered into the hole I’d dug, now empty of fish.

“I am fishing, of course. Well, I was fishing. I’ve since eaten my fill and was spending the day reading a good book. Where are you going, riding with the sun?”

“We are on our way to Vaith,” Arianne said.

“Never heard of it.”

“You are on the River Vaith.”

“Lo! You have arrived at your destination!”

“We are headed to Castle Vaith, which is the seat of House Vaith.”

“Vaith, Vaith, and more Vaith! Why, is your home named Martell of Martell which overlooks the Martell by the sea?” I complained with an exaggerated sigh. “Humans, ever so uncreative.”

“I am Princess Arianne Martell of House Martell. Father is the Ruling Prince of Dorne and our seat of power is called Sunspear,” she replied, now with some annoyance. “At least I am not a fox named ‘Foxtrot!’”

“Hahaha, touche, princess,” I laughed. Dorne. Sunspear. Now those were far more recognizable names. Now I knew why “Arianne” and “Tyene” sounded so familiar. “Sunspear, you say? Of Westeros?”

“Yes. Don’t tell me you’ve come all this way without knowing where you are.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you. But why would a princess of Dorne go to Vaith? And with only a cousin for company? Are you running away from home?”

“I… It is not any of your business.”

“Hmm… I suppose not.” I plopped back onto my lounge chair and picked up Tolkien’s masterpiece once more. “Good day then, princess, Tyene. Safe travels.”

There was much I could glean from this conversation. A Song of Ice and Fire was a series I’d read in my past life. Past-past life? Whatever. I’d read it when I was a Japanese-American studying in the States.

It’d been hugely popular for a time. Its TV analog, Game of Thrones, set the bar for what a gritty, medieval fantasy TV series could be, at least until the final season or so. There were some noteworthy differences between the books and the show and I remembered many of my classmates discussing it late into the night.

Unfortunately, I remembered virtually none of the details. I spent the better part of three decades in a corpo-hellscape; I had bigger concerns than trying to remember who Cersei slept with next. I still recalled the major plot beats: Arryn dies, Stark becomes Hand of the King, etc. but the rest was a fuzzy haze to me.

Arianne Martell was… a book-exclusive character? That sounded right. I remembered that fans didn’t think highly of her, something about making stupid decisions and getting herself disinherited. She was the “sexy but stupid” to Cersei’s “sexy but crazy.”

Regardless, even someone like her would never leave Sunspear unguarded during a time of war, such as the War of Five Kings. Surely no one was that stupid. Which meant I’d likely arrived pre-canon somewhat.

They weren’t leaving. I’d settled down to read until dusk but they were still there, standing somewhat awkwardly as they whispered to each other.

“He could be useful,” Arianne said, nowhere near quietly enough.

“He is an unknown creature,” Tyene reminded her cousin. “He could be a demon of the Seven Hells for all we know.”

‘Are demons that pretty? He is fairer than we are.”

“All the better to tempt young maidens from the grace of the Seven. Is it not suspicious that he was waiting for us by the river, cousin?”

“I suppose, but he was willing to allow us to leave.”

“It could be a ruse.”

I could feel their gaze on me. I flicked my tails dismissively. “He seems quite relaxed, Tyene.”

“Are you really willing to consort with a potential demon? The Seven-Pointed Star says magic is not to be trusted, Arianne.”

“It also says my beloved cousin is a bastard and therefore unworthy,” the princess scoffed. “I’d sooner trust this… kitsune… than a septon.”

Tyene sighed as I heard Arianne approach. “As you wish, cousin. But be careful.”

I didn’t look up. The Chamber of Mazarbul was one of my favorite parts of the first book. “Have you two finished whispering to yourselves?”

I could practically feel the girls stiffen as they realized I’d heard everything. Arianne steeled herself and spoke, “You have sharp ears, Charlie Foxtrot.”

“I do. Was there something you wanted, Princess Arianne?”

“You. I want you,” she said, with scarcely a tremor in her voice.

I chuckled and flipped the page. “Well, if nothing else, you are not lacking boldness. And what exactly do you believe I can do for you?”

“I don’t know, but I want you to join me and my cousin.”

“Oh? I must confess, after relaxing for a while, I intended to head towards the coast by following this river. We are headed in opposite directions, princess.”

“Turn around then,” she said. She knelt by me with what she probably thought was a sultry whisper. “Surely our company is worth a change of plans.”

I finally looked away from the page. My eyes found hers and I heard her breath still as I nailed her in place with my gaze alone.

Arianne Martell was gorgeous, easily among the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. I’d seen plenty of beautiful women in my time as a wage-slave, on posters and movies, sometimes on the arms of company directors. The future was great, if you were lucky enough to be born at the top. But even among the plastic, airbrushed perfection of movie stars and pop idols, this girl stood out as something special.

And yet, she wasn’t the only one who could claim an otherworldly charisma. Perhaps this was the first time she’d met anyone and felt inadequate about her appearance. She balked as my eyes found hers, stuttering as if she had no idea what to do when she wasn’t the prettiest thing in the room. 

It was adorable. She reminded me of a fawn, awkwardly bumping my hand for an apple.

A dark portal beset with stars opened up and I placed my book inside. The casual display of magic made her eyes widen with awe, and not a little hunger. She was a greedy one, this princess.

I smiled indulgently. “I admit, I was just looking for a city, any city at all in this desert. I suppose Vaith is as good as Sunspear.”

“Yes, come with me, Charlie. You can tell me about the… kitsune… Tell me of your people and the wondrous things you can do.”

“But what will I get in return, princess?” I asked coyly.

She leaned forward in a blatant attempt to show off her cleavage. To be fair, she had plenty to show. She placed a warm hand on my chest, tracing the collar of my kimono with a dainty finger. “Join me. Be my companion and friend. I can offer you all the luxuries of Dorne.”

I almost burst out laughing at that. The “luxuries of Dorne,” as if I couldn’t simply create her entire castle’s likeness in solid gold. Adorable. “All the luxuries of Dorne, hmm? How tempting…”

“And more. I would be delighted with your company alone, but should your exotic talents prove useful…” she trailed off. She leaned close, practically onto my lap now. “There might be more in the cards.”

I cracked. Too much, that was too much. I palmed her face and shoved her gently away. Had I meant to, her neck would have snapped off her shoulders. “Hahahahaha! Too close, child! Too close!”

“Wh-What? Hey!” she yelped as she fell onto her butt.

“Tell me one thing, little one. What year is it?”

“What?”

“The year. How many years has it been since Aegon’s Conquest?”

“Two hundred ninety-four,” Tyene said as she came over to help her cousin up.

“Ah, so…” I tried to remember when Ned Stark would become Hand but came up blank. “Well, fuck. Why’d I even ask that? I don’t remember when shit goes down anyway.”

“You are a very rude fox,” Arianne said. She probably meant to sound dignified but, with her butt on the ground, all she came off as was pouty.

“Sorry, sorry. If it makes you feel better, I thought your attempt was cute. Really cute.”

She leaned on her cousin’s arm and glared. “Hmph! I am more than cute, you furry creature.”

“Fine, you’re a very beautiful woman. Happy?”

“No, you have merely stated the obvious.”

“Help me out here. Who sits on the Iron Throne? And who is the Hand?”

“Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn,” Tyene answered dutifully. “Why do you want to know? Surely a magical creature pays no heed to the laws of men.”

“Smart girl,” I complimented. “And you’re right, I don’t care. I’m just… framing my expectations.”

“My dress is dusty, fox,” Arianne grumbled. “How will you compensate me for this?”

I considered the pair. The way I saw it, I had two choices:

First, I could go with my loose plan to head towards the coast. I now knew that I was heading towards Sunspear, or at least nearby. Separated from these two, I would have the chance to disguise myself and explore the city as just another traveler among many.

Truthfully, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do now that I recognized the setting. The anonymity would give me time to think, maybe experience the lives of Dorne’s smallfolk without being an exotic guest of their highest nobility.

Or second, I could go with the girls. If nothing else, they were good for a few laughs and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little worried for them. I didn’t remember much of the story, but I remembered enough to know that Westeros was not kind to young women. Worst case scenario, the two ran afoul of bandits and got ransomed back to Doran in pieces.

Was this the colossal mistake that led to Doran disinheriting his eldest child? Or had that already happened? And if the latter, was this to be her tragic end in the desert? It’d certainly explain why she was a book-exclusive character if she’d been killed off before the story even started.

Admittedly, her death was unlikely. A princess and her cousin running away from home wouldn’t go unnoticed for long. They obviously weren’t skilled enough to evade pursuit so I could assume they wouldn’t make it to Vaith. If I had to guess, Doran Martell’s men would probably find them within a day or two.

That was another consideration: If I stuck with them, my odds of meeting Oberyn Martell, Doran’s right hand and younger brother, were quite high. He had been one of my favorite characters, one of the few whose personality stuck out to me even after so long.

It would mean not hiding. A magical entity in Westeros… People would seek my favor or work to kill me off to get rid of a potential enemy. Ineffectually, sure, but they’d try and I’d feel obligated to answer such earnest efforts with my own, regardless of their efficacy.

It’d likely mean getting involved in the affairs of Westeros, if only long enough to ensure my favorite humans didn’t get themselves killed.

I clapped my hands and shoved the chair and fishing rig into my inventory. “I’ve decided.”

“You’ve decided?” Arianne asked, brow raised.

“Yes, I will join you on your travels, Arianne. You make me laugh.”

“I… You are a very rude fox,” she repeated.

“And you, my dear, are a very funny princess.”

Author’s Note

I’m not an ASOIAF encyclopedia, but apparently, there was a time when Arianne ran away from home. She was infuriated by Doran’s selection of suitors. Her plan was to somehow make it to Highgarden and propose to Willas Tyrell.

Suffice to say, she didn’t get far. She managed to escape Sunspear but was picked up by her uncle on her way to Vaith. We don’t know when this happened, but I’m eyeballing this to be several years before canon.

If Arianne seemed way too forward, and cringey because of it, that’s kinda the point here. A Dornish noble or knight would see her as an unattainable fruit that sits at the pinnacle of society. She’s never had to try very hard to be desirable, in other words.

But from the perspective of someone who really doesn’t care about Dorne or power, she’s… Well, she’s not had to try very hard before. It’s not about sex, Arianne wants to get him on her side because she thinks he’s interesting and magical, but she’s not really sure how to persuade men without using her body as a bargaining chip.

I’m not saying that she made the wisest decisions in canon, but between her and Doran, I’m actually kinda on her side. Doran took away her birthright, gave her no explanations, and expected a moody, teenage girl to just… accept it. She’s still an idiot, but her rebellious phase was completely understandable, is what I’m saying.