[Shrubley, the Monster Adventurer] Chapter 70 – Hissy Fit

Lord Rykal stood on the balcony of the Haalften Manor in his evening dress, his hair oiled and slicked back with a prominent V-shaped widow’s peak courtesy of a little paint.

How he hated the disguise! But people expected it. Everybody knew that the Haalftens were vampyrs, but nobody really cared.

“Oh, them? They’ve been vampyrs afore I was born!” They would say. When asked if they wanted to call in the Guild to deal with them, they’d say stupid peasant things like, “Ah, they’re not so bad, the Haalftens. Fair pay for fair work, always doin’ blood drives. And they’re nobs, right? Everybody knows nobs bleed the people. At least the Haalftens are honest about it!”

He had hoped that he could talk to the populace, or at least one of his family could do the talking. That merchant caravan that came through nearly a week ago was a massive boon. They were all weak Mundanes, but at least there were dozens of them.

With the new bodies, they were able to swell their ranks and try to foment proper discord among the peasants.

They even supplied them with pitchforks and torches! This should have been the easiest insurrection in the history of forever. But Lord Rykal, dressed in the skin and guise of Count Haalften, hadn’t got very far.

It made no sense. The people wanted to be ruled by vampyrs. What idiocy was that?

One of the peasants had the audacity to let slip that he figured if something truly bad rolled through the region, the vampyrs would trounce that nasty business.

When it became clear that the peasants wouldn’t revolt–giving Rykal an opportunity to disguise his takeover of the countryside–he decided to do away with all pretenses.

The Guild generally didn’t care about infighting amongst the various territories and border towns. That was pretty typical even in the Inner Ring. They were normally tasked with keeping the populace safe, and besides, that was what standing armies were for.

If, instead, people started to go missing, they’d need to investigate at the very least. That was the last thing that Lord Rykal wanted, and yet it seemed he finally had to show his hand after all this careful planning.

That’s what you get for trusting vampyrs! he thought to himself in a fit of rage. They warp the mind. Make people dumb. He watched as a few peasants were led into the manor guarded by his family. Well, dumber, at any rate.

In twos and threes, the peasants and their families were brought to the manor, shoved into the Well of Transference, and then immediately forgotten. Lord Rykal should welcome the new family, but he was watching the horizon.

In the distance, smoke was rising. It turned the setting sun a beautiful bloody red.

Taamra was burning.

Took them long enough.

Not long after his failed attempt to start an uprising, the numbers of his family swelled when one of them had the brilliant idea to start swapping with monsters.

Most weren’t terribly strong, and didn’t have enough energy to trade for the bulkier humanoid family bodies, but they allowed countless serpentii to come through.

What those monster sacrifices didn’t have in power, they made up for in sheer quantity. Those newly invited members of the family served as the bulk of their forces assailing the town.

What Lord Rykal didn’t already possess, he would take by force. Soon after, he would set his sights upon the neighboring region.

If the humans wanted to welcome and defend the presence of monsters like the Haalftens, then they could die alongside them. There was little call for a façade anymore.

The hillsides and forests were scoured of monster dens and lairs, from the weakest slime to the rare Copper Ranked gnoll. If it could be sacrificed in the Well, it was thrown in.

It filled Lord Rykal’s serpent heart with glee to know that the exit point of the Well was likely a bloodbath by now. Scared and confused peasants met with scared and confused monsters would have been a sight to see indeed.

Almost as good as watching Taamra burn to the ground.

As long as they held the road through the mountains, that was all that mattered. In time, the Guild would likely come investigate. He had all but one of the runners from Taamra killed. It had taken dozens of Rykal’s family to bring the Bronze woman down, but it was well worth the silence her death brought.

That last one was brought back to the manor and imprisoned. He had integral information on the town and the inner workings of the Adventurers Guild, and therefore, was important enough to keep alive.

At least until the town was cleansed. Then he’d go into the Well with the other peasants.

It was through the “information gathering” sessions that he learned of Taamra’s weaknesses and its strengths. Judging by how long it had taken for Taamra to start burning, it was clear that this “Royl” didn’t know as much as he claimed.

Either that, or he had managed to hold out despite the insistent questioning.

He will need to be punished and shown the error of his ways.

In the end, it wouldn’t matter. None of this would matter.

The Adventurers Guild wasn’t able to get a word out about their plight. Eventually somebody would come inquiring about the silence, but by then the family would have moved into their places.

Anybody they were too weak to capture or kill would see only the same townspeople that had always been here. And if they were a little weird… well, everybody knows that peasants are strange.

The new “Guild” that they would be managing would likely even get extra funding for keeping the monster dens in the area down. In fact, he would make a point of showing off the lack of monsters, upselling how quiet and peaceful the area was.

He might even be able to make a pitch to the Expansion Bureau that this Royl told him about. Apparently, if a border town was doing well enough, the Inner Ring would send settlers and money out to build up the town further and populate it. Pushing forever at the Edges where the wild world met the “civilized” one.

We could swell our ranks like never before, Rykal thought to himself with a smile.

A distracting mooing came from below, drawing Rykal’s thoughts away from his conquest and empire of snakes. He was so close now. Just a little longer and he’d have everything he wanted.

That horrible mirror realm with that wicked old woman would be a distant memory, easily forgotten amid the riches and luxury of his bright new home.

He leaned down over the railing. The sight was so strange, he called down to them, “Why are you bringing those things in here? Just eat them and be done with it!”

Several cows were trussed up and carried between heavy poles by several stout serpentii sporting a surprising number of wounds.

Their leader looked up, his frilled neck flared with anger, but he managed a serviceable bow to show that he had nothing but the utmost respect for his lord.

“They killed half a dozen Family, sssire,” he said. “Shooting darts of bone out of their uddersss!” He motioned to a bleeding wound on his bulky arm. “We figured they would count as monstersss.”

Lord Rykal looked over the cows. There was something… off about them, that was for sure. But monsters? Well, you never could tell for sure. “Throw them into the Well and we’ll see what will happen.” And because it always did to reward out-of-the-box thinking, he added, “Good job.”

The serpentii beamed and slithered into the house, leading the cows who began mooing with a deeper urgency.

Drumming his fingers on the railing, Lord Rykal watched the distant, thin stream of smoke grow thicker as it was joined by others. Yes, any day now Taamra would fall.

The hidden tunnels and secret entrances used by some of the older families were all guarded. Nobody was going to get out. They would, eventually, try to hold the guildhall.

But they would find that a great deal of their supplies were missing. That had been his very first order. Take the lowest level members of the Guild and get rid of all the supplies they could.

It was always the weakest that were the most responsible. The people who had actual power relied on them but dismissed them at the same time. They never noticed their comings and goings. It was the worker ants that truly ruled, and they were often forgotten.

All the better for Rykal to sneak in and replace them with family members who were loyal. Unlike the core races of this world, Rykal knew how to reward loyalty.

And so, day by day, the stores of the guildhall were emptied and their reports altered to reflect no change. He smiled to himself. Yes, any day now.

With one last look at the ruddy glow from Taamra, he turned around and headed inside. Cows that have turned into monsters? This I have to see.

***

Bleeding and out of breath, Sel directed the last of the survivors into the guildhall.

“Sel, come on!” called one of the adventurers. “We have to lock this place down and we can’t do it without you.”

“He’s coming,” she said, staring down the long avenue that led to the gates that still, miraculously, held. They had been able to evacuate everybody, even the wounded.

All it cost was one man.

“He’ll be here,” she said again.

Nobody would have called Remal a hero, not by the standard that his peers were judged. He was a passable E-Grade adventurer, the lowest of his group because he always seemed to be shirking responsibility.

Sel had looked into his file. It was thicker than the rest, filled with complaint upon complaint. Most of the time, there were only two reasons for the issue: “lack of decorum” and “issue with authority” were repeated so many times they ended up making a stamp for each phrase.

And yet, when everything was going wrong, he had sacrificed himself to keep the gates clear. To hold the enemy back from breaking through long enough to see the defenseless and the weak brought to safety.

The least she could do was hold the door open a little longer.

Sel watched, ignoring the shouting behind her, waiting for the flourish of a colorful cape. He’ll be here. He has to be. That’s what heroes do.

The gates to the town shattered. She could hear the age-darkened wood breaking from here.

For a moment, she held out a shred of hope, a tiny candle flame in the dark that Remal would be sprinting ahead of the horde of slithering monsters.

That flicker of light was extinguished when she saw the countless green-skinned beasts flooding the street.

He was gone.

“Thank you, Remal,” she said softly, stepping back and activating her [Warding Crystal] to seal the guildhall.