A Fathers Wrath

"Gibi!" "Gigi!" "Gigu!" Gibigu!"

*fruzh* *spahk* *fruzung* *skrahng*

"[Shadow Rise]"

"...Monster."

Is what the short loli looking adventurer whispers to herself. Ernesta 'the Quiet,' has been an adventurer for years. And a porter for the Vault of the Lost Guardian before that. Born and raised in Colrac, she has been going into the vault since she was eleven.

Normally children are not allowed to enter until they are twelve, but the man who adopted her from the orphanage helped her start younger.

"Think I picked a bad one dad."

Ernesta has met a lot of strange people over the years. Including necromancers. A dungeon with undead is always popular with users of dark magic. She's even seen dark school mages raise zombies to fight beside them.

So the young adventurer is not only comfortable with the undead? The woman is confident that she knows undeath well.

But the hired scout has never seen anything like this. She's maneuvered partway up a wall where she can keep an eye on the battle and support it with her crossbow. The goblins' ambush failed so they decided to overwhelm less than two dozen with well over a hundred.

The goblins are used to moving in large numbers here since parties going this far are often mining expeditions with dozens of adventurers and porters.

By all rights these dungeon divers should be doomed and the cute adventuress should be running for her life.

*fruuzhh*

"Giah!"

*spraklch*

Instead? She witnesses the monster slide by a goblin champion's blade like the green giant is standing still.

A burning black and red blade in his left hand cuts off the champion's arm at the elbow. While a white and blue sword in his right hand sweeps around after beheading another goblin and plunges itself deep into the green giant's chest.

By the time the body reaches the floor? The monster has cut down two more.

"[Shadow Rise]"

Even if you didn't hear the incantation he somehow speaks while fighting hand to hand? You would feel it. The air is charged and so much mana is being burned? You can smell it. The teen adventurer watches in horror as again, the spinning glowing magic circle appears and a rip in the air itself opens.

Letting another unholy thing pull itself thru. Over a dozen of their former tribesmen, now made of smoke and ink, are among the goblins now. Leaving carnage in their wake.

The girl remembers tales the nuns told when the children misbehaved. Of the Wizard Wars and Sorcerer Lords. The worst of them being the 'Lich Kings.' Who could raise entire graveyards of corpses with a single word. Turn the healthiest man into undead with just a touch.

She has met many necromancers. None could create the living dead this quickly. This easily. None summoned sharp and fast things made of dark smoke and black ink.

"Shadow Lord." The young guild member whispers.

Ernesta's worked her way up to an iron plate from copper rank. Seen amazingly talented people in battle, even a silver plate. Yet despite all that experience? Her eyes couldn't always keep up. His blades, just too fast. Enemies around him turned into pieces before they even realized he was there.

His slaves are almost as bad. They're a lot stronger than their plates imply. Casting faster and more often than anyone she's ever seen. Of course she had heard about their test. But like her friends? She figured the story was exaggerated by has beens who wanted ale more than adventure.

Her fingernails nervously dig into her leather arm guard.

"See master?" "Master, is this good?" "Do you like this master?" "Master, watch me!"

Those women are just, wrong. The way they move, like they are possessed. Maybe they are undead themselves. Seemed normal before, mostly. Sort of odd. But once the fight began? They became, unnatural.

They also like their master way too much. She recalls friends who fell 'in love' with their masters. Slavery is not an uncommon fate for orphans. Masters having sex with their slaves is hardly uncommon too. Its not like the slave has a choice.

And if the poor girl can get better treatment by pretending she's in love? Well, its the smart thing to do.

These slaves though? All seven treat the Swordmage like he's their father, and brother, and husband, and even child. The way his slaves act is just... So...

*shudder*

"Creepy."

At first the guild guide thought the knights and soldiers kept their distance out of respect for Lord Barton's harem. Or fear of the lord himself. She learned while camping the night before that they kept their distance because they were afraid of his slaves.

They whispered that these girls had the demon's curse but could still use magic. Survived offending a marquis. Even whipped each other to the edge of death.

A famous Oracle of Metia was even among them. But she was the craziest of the lot. Worshiping the strange barbarian like he was some sort of god himself.

"Hereti-"

*skryraahhkk*

"Wha?"

The halfling felt shame, and her cheeks burned, when she realized her thoughts had drifted during the battle. If her employers noticed they could complain to the guild. The girl resolved to stay focused.

If there was a dispute maybe she could loan herself to one of the knights for their aid? Some men, and women, were attracted to still childish looking bodies. Which halflings kept thru much of their lives.

Not the tall knight captain though. To the adventurer it seemed obvious that lady sought the monster's favor. The thought of becoming a toy of that monster or his women? Terrifying.

Worse, if it happened? She feared she wouldn't be herself anymore. The noises from their tent last night, even thru a barrier, made it clear he is an enemy of women.

The floor is now littered in goblin corpses which the party is already beginning to gather and process. Climbing down to help she encounters Dame Edelys waiting for her. If she noticed the hired member's distraction during the battle? She chooses not to bring it up.

The red haired women comments.

"Scary. Are they not?"

Ernesta nods.

"They scare the pee out of me. I'm afraid of what the honorable Dame has gotten me mixed up in."

The unknown and uncertain often mean death in a dungeon.

The knight looks the guide in the eye.

"Oh, you are safe enough. Likely as safe as can be." The captain's eyes turn cold. "If something does happen? They will not be after you. So run. Hide. Understand?"

The knight's face becomes all smiles again and she walks away.

"What the pit was that about?"

The teen has an uncomfortable feeling that she will find out soon.