Alchimia Rex (090 & 091)

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AN: Chapters don't have the footnotes, will fix tomorrow. Things have been very hectic around here, sorry about that.

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[090] [Supplies (Rosalind)]

Rosalind missed chairs.

She’d never thought them to be much of a “human” thing; she’d always considered them to be just everywhere. Why wouldn’t maidens sit down? Yet maidens didn’t tire as humans did; being on their feet most of the day was no bother to them. Sitting became more of a choice than a convenience. It carried a conscious thought to the act. But when it came to Rosalind, she’d found out that the act of sitting down was becoming more like a ceremony.

First, she’d clop her way to a cleared-out spot, an area roughly large enough to house her bulk. Then she’d check under herself, just in case she’d missed anything, or someone had rushed there for some reason (that had happened once, and she refused to let it happen a second time), and only then would she begin to sit down. She’d try to ignore the slight lurching from first bending her front legs, and then plop down her rear. And once on the ground, she’d lean back to make sure her skirt hadn’t shifted out of place.

There were fewer awkward ways to do it, such as how she’d seen her mother gracefully bend all four legs at once, but Rosalind’s attempts at such a feat had resulted in her face against the ground more times than she’d dare admit.

“You can remain standing, if you’d prefer, Rosa.”

Eli’s voice snapped Rosalind out of her thoughts. The Centaur clopped once in tempo to her nod. “Yes, madam, I would appreciate it.” It still felt awkward to be taller than everyone else in the room, but that was a price she was willing to pay if it meant not embarrassing herself in front of the lady-in-waiting. “Is… there anything you need of me? Anything I can help with?”

The room was in the Lady’s unofficial abode. The building used to belong to the Hunters, and as such, it was a reinforced structure, with thick walls and narrow corridors. Rosalind had to be careful not to bump her head against anything while at the same time keeping an eye out in case her skirt snagged on anything.

The light green tarp that covered nearly all of her equine body wasn’t the prettiest thing, but it got the job done. She was saving to get Miss Ahina to tailor something more fitting. Despite being the most sought-after maiden in the city, the Spinner placed priority on requests from maidens bonded to the Lord. It was one perk Rosalind had full plans to take advantage of.

“No, I called for you to check on your health, Rosa,” Eli replied with the usual sternness. “Are things going alright? Are you facing any particular troubles?”

Rosalind wished stairs would vanish from the world altogether, her bed was a smidge small, her clothes were a bit too sparse, and she could barely stand the stench of mold coming out of the books she had to work through.

Those were only the things that came to mind easily.

“No, madam,” she said instead.

Eli looked at her for a moment, and with a slight nod, turned to face the other side of the room, taking measured steps. “I called you here to inform you that the Lord and Lady will be leading an expedition into the deeper woods.”

“I… wish them the best of luck?” Rosalind said, standing there, trying to figure out what this was about, annoyed at having been called away from her books.

If there was one advantage to be had in her new life, it was that the Lord had deemed her ability to read and write critical enough that he granted her access to the library.

The Hound stared back at her, seeming to wait for her to add anything else. When it became clear she wouldn’t, Eli raised her voice slightly. “Do you have an alternate human available? In case the bond breaks. The bonds of the Lord might be potent, but we do not know to what extent.”

That jostled Rosa a little, shaking her head grimly. “I do not.” It was something she hadn’t considered. Thinking about the bond or the Lord in general was something she tended to avoid.

“See to find someone promptly. If you cannot get anyone you’d trust, then remember you have sisters you can ask for help.” Taking a moment to emphasize those final words, she shook her head. “Have you been taught how to avoid a bond panic?”

Rosalind quickly nodded. “Yes. If I feel the fear encroaching, I must think of those the Lord has brought alongside himself for protection.”

The Lady had been most kind in teaching her how to do this. It was a very simple matter to just imagine the maidens the Lord was surrounded by, and how impossible it would be for him to die. The thought was a foothold that let her push back on any concerns that might arise from the bond’s desire to keep her human alive at all costs.

Eli’s brow creased, canine ears pointing their attention forward. “But have you experienced that gulf?”

“I have seen Miss Urtha spar a few times, from the gates. And I’ve heard of Miss Monica’s exploits.”

With an exasperated sigh, Eli reached into the small pouch on her belt. She handed Rosalind a small cloth bag barely the size of her thumb. “Go talk to Miss Urtha. Tell her you’ve been sent to assist her with the logistics for the expedition.”

“I will do my best, madam.”

Administrative work was what she’d been taught, and an expeditionary force would undoubtedly present some challenges in getting everything in order. Her confidence in the task ahead was what allowed her to focus on the bag. A light purple piece of silk barely the size of a thimble. There was a barely perceptible scent coming off of it, sweet, but not any fruit she could recognize.

“What is this?”

“It’s to mark you as a possible problem.” The Hound shook her head, appearing slightly amused as she turned to the door. “Miss Eva will be paying you a visit to get it back once the expedition sets out.”

A shudder ran all the way down to the tip of her tail. Rosalind clopped nervously as she very nearly threw the little bag away from herself. “Is… this truly necessary, madam?” Meeting the Vampire was not something she wanted to ever do if she had any say in the matter.

Eli shook her head. “Consider this a rite of passage of sorts. I am sure you’ve been told about life as a maiden from your mother, perhaps even the expectations for a Lord’s maiden. But Lord Richard’s ability to have so many maidens under his direct protection has presented some… challenges.” She gestured at the little bag. “This is one of the solutions.”

It was clear the lady-in-waiting was being intentionally obscure about the nature of the pouch or its purpose. Rosalind suppressed the urge to glare, keeping it hidden behind a placid neutrality.

With a wave of her hand, Eli made clear there was nothing more to the conversation. Rosalind took her leave, carefully turning to the door and clopping her way out, making sure to bow under the frame to avoid smacking her head against it.

As of late, she’d grown to appreciate the newer houses that were being built with the tribe’s help. The ceilings were higher, meant to accommodate for the Orcs’ abnormal height. There might be those who didn’t enjoy the increased empty space over their heads, but none would turn down an Orc helping put together their home.

The day was cloudy, as it had been the past few weeks. The Frostcaller was probably restless; maybe they'd get an early snow? Rosalind preferred when the snow came late; it made fall long enough to enjoy playing on the beach.

She'd been looking forward to riding her mother as the matron galloped through the sandy shore, enjoying the salty foam whipping in her hair, laughing together all the way…

The thought stung, bringing her eyes back down to her lower body. Though it was still covered in cloth, she could spot her own hooves every time she took a step. Rosalind's gaze was stuck to the ground most days anyway; having twice as many legs and several times the size meant she had to be careful where she stepped.

It was in this manner that she made her way to the city gate. There was tumultuous activity going to and fro, with Orcs and Mousegirls being the primary source of the chaos. Boxes, bundles of cloth, bags, and more boxes. Most appeared to know what they were doing and where to drop or pick up whatever it was they had to move. But here and there would be stragglers, lingering with some large pile on their hands as they waited for someone else to point them in the right direction.

Rosalind kept her distance, not wanting to get in the way, watching the Orc as she focused on the maidens that appeared less certain of what went where. There was no real finesse or apparent method to her order, pointing at the piling boxes as the drop-off point.

Once she spotted a lull in the flow, the Centaur approached. "Miss Urtha, I'm Rosalind. I was sent here to help. Could I look into how to organize this?"

Urtha was one of very few maidens in the city who was tall enough to still need to look down to meet Rosalind's gaze. The green giant rubbed her tusk, using its pointy end to pick some dirt from under her nail. "Haven't seen you before. Who sent you?"

"Miss Eli."

"Hunting dog, got it." With a dejected wave of her hand, she gestured at the pile. "Sort it if you want. Just don't get too creative about it. This'll get picked up by the tribe. No carts where we're headed."

Rosalind eyed the pile of miscellaneous… everything; her lips thinned ever so slightly. "How many Orcs will be going? Any other maidens who will be carrying things? Do you have any transport maidens going along?"

"It'll be a hard push. Doubt there's many here who'll be able to keep up," Urtha made a gesture at her. "We'd take some of your lot, but the terrain gets pretty harsh deeper in. Roots are all over the place, barely any soil or rock to cling to."

Rosalind's brow twitched; she hastily turned toward the pile again. "So only Orcs carrying these. I think I can manage something. Do you have straps or bags?"

Urtha waved her off. "Don't worry too much; we make what we need if there is a need. Not like we'll be out there for months; some rushed wood and fibers work well enough." To emphasize the point, she pulled out some hemp rope from the pile and hastily turned one of the bulkier boxes into an improvised backpack. The maiden proceeded to lift the box that rattled with heavy metal things as if it were empty. "Oh right, gotta keep these at easy access."

"Hm?"

"Extra shields. Metal this time around; we'll need them against those Golden Elves or whatever their name is." She turned her attention away as someone else approached with some more cargo. "Anyway, Cape, get busy; I'll do the same."

"Cape?"

The only response she got out of the question was a half-cocked smirk before the Orc turned to focus on something else. Rosalind huffed, turning her glare to the work ahead and pulling her sleeves up. She might be new to being a maiden, but the only thing she needed was the strength to move the heavy boxes around. Being a Centaur, strength was one of the things she had to spare.

She split the bulk into smaller portions, each one meant to be carried by a single maiden. Rosalind had thought she'd been properly allocating weight, but Urtha had stepped in to tell her she should double that estimation. It took a little trickery, but shuffling the contents around wasn't much of a challenge, just time-consuming.

Once everything was properly broken down into roughly fifty portions, she called for the help of the Mousegirls. Their task was simple enough: to tie everything together with hemp rope and make it easier to carry.

With that part of her work complete, she moved on towards water. The forest had rivers, but they were mostly tiny streams. Unless it began to rain, then they'd need to rely on water maidens to summon some, or on Elves to extract it out of the trees. Maybe a Terrielle to look for it underground? Though the tree roots appeared like they might not make it viable. Either way, they'd still need waterskins; the tribe hadn't gathered enough of them. Perhaps because they thought it would be nearly all Orcs?

Rosalind had just sent a Mousegirl to run off and procure the necessary waterskins when she heard a commotion.

The Orcs were hastily moving out of the way for the Lord and an entourage of maidens, each carrying small red boxes the size of Rosalind's head. The only exception was the behemoth of a maiden who stood at his side, the Sabertooth with short white hair and furred arms.

Lord Richard stood at the head of a group of four. The very first thing Rosalind noticed was his clothes. The man had leather studded armor over what was clearly traveling gear, a short sword strapped to his hip. It was a light ensemble that was well-worn. It also happened to be the sort of clothes a mercenary or handler would wear, not a Lord.

"This is a warning to everyone." He raised his voice as he directed the maidens to put the boxes down away from everything else. "Do not allow fire to get close to these boxes, do not drop them, and do not smack them. Everyone will need to get some added lessons on the proper handling of them."

"It might be a bit too much, Father, to bring this gift to our enemy," Urtha laughed, a sound that was carried by the others.

Rosalind had to agree with the sentiment. The forest was a dangerous place, but this Lord had two champions at his side, a tribe of Orcs, and his odd explosives besides. As frightening as the ferals and wildlings might be, she expected there would be very few things in the wilderness that might be able to stand up to such a force.

Yet the Lord did not share this amusement.

It was the Sabertooth who spoke. "Not enough." Her words carried chilly certainty with them. "Deep forest dangerous. Very dangerous." She pointed at Urtha, snarling, a sound that made Rosalind want to turn tail and bolt at the first opportunity. "Monica will stop Rick if not enough."

Just like that, everyone became deathly quiet.

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[091] [Road Trip]

“I will openly admit, out of everyone I expected to oppose me heading out, I would've thought Dia was going to be the loudest voice.” Rick wanted to sit down but couldn't find the calmness in him for it, so he paced the room like some caged animal. “Not a proponent for it.”

“A Lord needs to be well-versed in battle,” she answered, with a smidge of amusement twinkling in her eyes. “What is improper is the Lord putting his safety before that of a maiden.”

“Yeah, we're not letting him get anywhere near the fighting,” Urtha nodded.

“Doesn't matter. Too dangerous,” Monica's harsh growl got everyone to clamp up. Her glare swept across the group and zeroed in on Rick. He could sense a deep fear welling from within her, one she hid behind the projected anger.

The morning air grew ever so slightly colder for it. They'd dispersed the tribe under promises of an update soon. Monica's staunch refusal to let him go had come out of left field, and though Rick had taken the warning with the seriousness he thought it deserved, it apparently wasn't enough.

“It's the bond,” At Rick's side, Kiara's brow creased, focused on Monica as well. “I'd normally suggest tying her up and keeping her bound until our return, but I doubt she'd ever forgive me.”

“It certainly misses the point,” Rick muttered. “Monica's certain I'll die if I come along.”

“Not just Rick. Everyone.”

He stepped forward. “Why?”

The maiden shook her head. “Not sure. Just know. Deep forest too dangerous.”

Eva stepped forward. “We are up against the Pinielf, the wildlings, and feral Golden Elves,” she glanced at the others. “The capabilities of the Pinielf are known; we beat her already, and there is no way she has amassed enough ferals for another rush,” she glanced at Embla. “As for the wildlings…”

They'd brought Embla as well. The dark-skinned maiden sat at the side, well away from everyone else, and flanked by four Orcs. She wore a simple set of off-brown linen clothes, appearing restless and with bags under her eyes.

“As much as I'd wish to claim my sisters to be a match to Monica, it would be a losing battle even with her being weakened as she currently is,” the Malumari shook her head. “I can only imagine the real threat she is concerned about is the Golden Elves. I certainly don't have any intention to fight them; I can disrupt their ability, but not being able to attack back means it'd be a bad situation overall.”

“Golden Elves are known for being able to make their arrows temporarily incorporeal,” Eva said, glancing at Rick as she did. “There are many records regarding battles against Elven Courts. Their arrows can only become incorporeal once, and only while traversing through wood. It is the reason why we are bringing the metal plates, combined with an Orc's incredibly tough skin and regeneration, it should be plenty to weather an attack.”

Monica didn't comment, eyes affixed on the ground, gripping her knees as her tail remained eerily still. She was fighting against the overwhelming concern and fear that was coming from within. The maiden clearly didn't think their preparations were enough to give them a chance, even when they included Rick's explosives into the equation.

The problem, however, was that she was going off of a feeling, one born out of half-remembered memories from her time under the feral curse.

“This is absurd,” Urtha stepped forward, looking at Monica firmly. “Whatever happened while you were feral, you’re stronger now. You can’t even be sure if what threatened you then is what we’ll meet.”

Rick couldn’t help but feel a little surprised at how things were unraveling. None of those close to him were questioning his decision to be a part of the war party. They were even encouraging it to some degree. Aside from Monica, the only opposition had been Kiara, and that had been for her own reasons.

“We can’t just stay at a standstill,” he spoke up. “We’ll make a compromise. If Monica thinks things are getting dangerous, we stop and assess the situation.” He focused on her. “Does that work for you?”

She grimaced but nodded slowly. “Monica needs… alone time.” Her frown deepened, and she turned to walk off toward the forest, clearly trying to mull through her thoughts.

As soon as she was gone, Kiara spoke up. “You should keep an eye on the bond,” she said. “There is nothing more dangerous than a maiden falling prey to their bond’s impulses. Friends can become foes in the blink of an eye, all for the sake of some loose interpretation of what’s necessary for their human’s survival.”

Rick nodded solemnly. It was a consideration they’d built around when it came to the expedition itself. The bulk of the maidens that were to come on this expedition were going to bond with the least number of non-Rick humans they collectively could. The goal was to always have a rotation such that there would always be a handful of them unbonded. This lack of a bond put them under the pressure of the feral curse, but it also kept them from being easily coerced into compliance by a blade to someone else’s throat.

And it made it easier to have at least some voices that wouldn’t be influenced by the bond’s imperative to keep their human safe.

It was also why Rick himself couldn’t just up and bond with everyone and call it a day. A little bit of collateral could end up causing the whole thing to collapse into itself.

For the humans they were bringing along, Rick had set up a hefty monetary reward for anyone volunteering for the positions. They got themselves three humans from the tribe and eighteen from Sinco. The people from Sinco leaned closer to the “desperate” part of the equation, but their job was to keep out of the way. In total, those twenty-one humans were meant to keep a force of roughly eighty maidens bonded.

“Unless someone has anything else they’d want to bring up, let’s get things going. Don’t want to burn any more daylight than we absolutely have to.”

Everyone set off back to work.

Rick didn’t want to pretend he knew the nuances of the whole endeavor, which was fortunate because the tribe had their fair share of experience with it. It gave him room to learn at his own pace and trust that people better prepared for this were handling their share.

And his job right now was to make sure the explosives and handful of other chemicals they brought would be handled adequately.

The following two hours consisted of pulling aside one Orc after another and explaining the proper utilization of the items within the red boxes. Once they were passably familiar with them, they would get their own red box. Each of the warriors was meant to be armed with their own set of explosives to use at their discretion (or Urtha’s). The Hobgoblins they were bringing along could aid by making their own explosives and explosions, but they were meant to be in a supplementary role since there weren’t enough maidens to go around.

The whole plan revolved around striking once and striking hard.

The sooner they were out of that forest and back to Sinco, the better.

He was mildly bothered that he could sense Embla’s eyes on the back of his head whenever he wasn’t looking, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. It was Kiara’s job to keep an eye on the prisoner. The Succubus kept herself always within arm’s reach of the Malumari, and never in a way that wouldn’t let her get in between Embla and Rick.

When they were reaching mid-morning, it was finally time to set out.

Urtha approached him. “Now, time to get on to the chair.”

It was the “human travel chair,” a piece of wood meant for someone to sit on it, while they were carried by someone else like a glorified backpack. The Orcs that didn’t get to carry supplies and gear were the ones in charge of taking the humans, most doing so two at a time. Rick would've normally already loathed the idea of being glorified luxury luggage, but Urtha’s smirk didn’t help any.

“Don’t be a baby, dear,” Kiara spoke with ample amusement as she was hefted up by one of the Orcs that was keeping close to Embla.

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled, sitting down on the offered plank of wood. It felt almost like getting on a roller coaster seat; the fit was snug, with little room to roll off unless Urtha let go.

“I could take twelve of you easily,” the Orc boasted, wiggling her shoulders to fit the straps comfortably, shaking Rick like he was a maraca along the way.

“I believe you.” She wasn’t just carrying him but also her normal massive piece of metal she called a club, and the special explosive weaponry they’d made for her.

His fingers gripped the armrests tightly.

“Monica and Eli set off earlier; they will be taking the lead,” Eva said as she was hefted alongside Dia. “The Neigixes will give overhead protection and scouting until nightfall.”

He nodded. “Can’t let them know we’re coming.”

“To war!” Urtha roared.

They set off, each of the Orcs moving at a healthy jog that bordered on a sprint. Their height made moving at higher speed a simple matter, at least fast enough that Rick was sure he wouldn’t be able to catch up even if he ran with everything he had.

Not that he could fully appreciate the elegant, powerful stride of the Orcs, nor the impressive display of stamina as they moved without even straining their breath. No, his main concern was that every time Urtha took a step, his whole body would shuffle slightly upwards, and immediately fall back down against the wooden plank that was his seat.

“Haven’t had a proper raid since we got rid of the blood-suckers. It’s good to pound dirt under my feet,” Urtha spoke confidently, not even short of breath.

“Wish the skies were clearer!” someone else added, getting a round of affirmative grunts all around.

“If you think this is bad now, wait until you get deeper into the forest. Barely any light at all,” Sheel’s proclamation was accompanied by her hands igniting. “Night’s going to be a hassle.”

“Not with the Chieftess it won’t!”

“She’s a damn nightmare when it gets dark; who’d have the guts to try anything while she’s around?”

“Someone thinks she’ll get all the fun fights?”

Raucous laughter spread amongst the green-skins, and Rick tuned things out as he tried to focus on minimizing the impact from his seat. So far his best bet was to use his arms as shock absorbers, at least a bit. There was no way he'd be able to keep it up until night fell, but it would at least make it more bearable.

Maybe what he needed was to create something like a saddle for Orcs, some sort of harness that would let the "carriage" use their legs as suspension. There was no way in hell it would be comfortable for either, but at least it ought to be more bearable than this?

Once they passed the treeline, the group spread out to give each other the space to maneuver. The bumpiness of the ride became more erratic, and Rick's efforts for self-stabilization now had added side-to-side movement to compensate for.

For the remainder of the day, the Orcs didn't stop.

The only time they slowed at all would be if they were traversing particularly tricky terrain, or if the group was going through a "meal break." And every step of the way, they would banter, joke, and amicably share stories with one another. It was a glimpse into Urtha's life that Rick hadn't expected to get. The whole thing had the same feeling as if they were heading out on a hike and barbecue.

If only he could stop thinking about what was to come.

If fighting broke out, as it was intended to happen, not everyone would make it back.

The idea that this was happening at his command was… it wasn't an easy pill to swallow. It was the very reason why he'd been willing to fight Kiara over his presence here. He wouldn't be able to keep his sanity if he remained in the city, knowing and waiting.

The hours ticked by, and as the lights dimmed, the Hobgoblins took the lead, illuminating the way until it was properly nighttime. Only then did the group come to a halt, and only to allow the maidens to dismount so that they could begin work on setting up camp and some basic defensive structures.

"Once we're cleared out and ready, we'll get the softies unpacked too, gotta be ready in case some nasty surprise is waiting," Urtha promised, shifting her shoulders slightly. "You doing alright?"

"I think my arms will fall off," he answered. There were other comments he wanted to add, such as his rear feeling sore to high heaven, but he'd never hear the end of it. "What about you?"

"Excited." The single word came with a lilt to her voice, one that made very specific kinds of promises.

"You can keep your tits in your shirt for a couple of days. This is serious business," Dia complained as she put on her spiky armor.

"You clearly have not been in a raid before," Kiara laughed from her seat, having twisted around so she had a finger tracing circles on the shoulder of the Orc who had been carrying her. The green maiden was blushing, pointedly avoiding meeting anyone's gaze.

Rick kept his voice carefully neutral. "What about the others?"

"That's their problem," Urtha chuckled darkly. "I've got my husband with me; I plan to take advantage of that."

Eva glanced at her for a moment, then at Rick. "Then, maybe—"

"No," Kiara cut her off, jumping off her seat and walking up to her. "I've tolerated your incompetence enough. You're going to learn how to keep yourself from drawing the attention of every maiden on the continent."

Her first reaction was an open glare, taking a full step away. Eva's lips thinned.

"Take the offer," Rick stepped in before anything else could be said and tempers could rise. "You can keep hating her later; this is not the time to turn down help."

With some hesitation, she nodded, allowing Kiara to lead her off toward Embla of all things. The trio of maidens didn't look too happy to be with one another, but Rick hoped it would at least work out.

"Glad that was resolved before it went bad. Let's go rest," Urtha didn't drop him off, instead heading straight toward the largest middle tent.

Rick had no escape.

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