Carclass="underline" Mordecai. Quick. What the hell is the “Oak Fell?” Also, once again, our charm isn’t working on these guys.
Mordecai: The Oak Fell is Apito’s version of the antichrist. That’s not stuff one usually contends with until the 12th floor. We need to get you two a Dispel Protections spell, which’ll handle the anti-charm and other security protocols these quest locations usually have. They’re annoyingly common in skyfowl settlements.
“We had to torture her to tease your name from her lips,” Salvatore was saying.
The third city elf returned, followed by a half dozen more of his friends. These guys weren’t wearing the brown robes, but the uniforms of the 201st. They formed a semi-circle around the entrance, blocking it. All of them were level 16, but there was a menagerie of magic types, from a Fire Mage to a Summoner to a Light Healer. Their dots remained white on the map. For now.
“Wait, you had to torture who?” I asked. I’d missed what he said because I was talking to Mordecai.
“GumGum,” the city elf said. “She was serving an important purpose, removing the unworthy filth from the streets. But then she started asking questions. Questions, it turns out, that attracted the Oak Fell. Just as the Master predicted.”
“You tortured GumGum?” Donut asked, her voice incredulous. Next to her, Mongo growled. Actually, I realized it was more of a retching noise. The dinosaur was looking a little green. That salamander wasn’t sitting well in his gut. Still, the noise he’d made sounded downright menacing. The city elves all tensed. Easy, easy. Not yet.
“Yes,” Salvatore said. “Just as we shall torture you. You defeated our champion, Vicente. He trained his entire life for the final battle. Now he blossoms on Her tree. The master had warned us a single champion would not be enough. We are chastened that we did not follow his guidance. We shall not make that mistake again. Now you will face all of us.”
“You nine are all of you?” I asked.
“We were twelve, but now we are nine,” Salvatore said. “Just as it was in the scriptures during the great Fall.”
“Vicente? Is that the guy whose head I blew off? And you kicked in the nuts?” Donut asked. She turned to face me. All nine of the city elves hissed in unison and took a step back.
Donut looked back over her shoulder. “What? Are you scared of my butt or something? I’ll have you know it is glorious.” She waggled it at the elves, jingling the crupper that hung like a skirt across her backside. “This is an award-winning derriere!”
One of the elves, a type of mage called an “Icer” growled. His dot on the map flickered to red then back to white. They were all looking down at Donut with scowls and dismay.
Donut: CARL THEY ARE GOING TO ATTACK US.
Carclass="underline" Don’t move. Stay in that position. Shake your left rear leg.
Donut lifted her back leg, revealing the small, magical anklet with the three little beads. She shook her foot, and the beads made a rattling noise. The elves growled and hissed like a pack of wild animals. One of them, the female Light Healer, started scratching at her own face, causing rivulets of blood to form.
What the actual fuck was wrong with these assholes?
They were scared of Donut’s anklet. We’d found it on a dead crawler who’d been killed by the lemurs. I remembered it only gave a couple of minor stat boosts and a skill called Double Tap. There wasn’t anything too remarkable about it except its name, The Enchanted Anklet of the Fallen Oak.
The description was all about how I shouldn’t wear it, which was why I’d given it to Donut. Apparently, these guys weren’t fans of magical items made from oakwood. I guessed that made sense since this Apito lady was called the Oak Mother. I’d be pretty upset too if someone was walking around with jewelry made out of dead babies.
“Let me get this straight,” I said, looking at Salvatore, who wouldn’t stop spitting on the ground like a damn maniac. The whole group had devolved from a bunch of angry, but competent-appearing magic users to this unstable mess of nutjobs who all looked as if they’d just escaped a mental hospital. The transformation had occurred in seconds. The fire mage had pissed himself. The summoner was sucking his thumb. “You assholes think Donut here is this Oak Fell antichrist person because she’s wearing that anklet?”
“I told you wood jewelry is ugly,” Donut grumbled.
“You are the bearer of the forbidden oak,” Salvatore said, speaking directly to Donut. He stood stiffly, formally. He pulled the acorn off the tree branch still in his hand and ate it, crunching loudly. His entire form started to glow blue. Magical Fervor appeared over his head. The others all produced acorns and ate them. Soon, the entire group glowed.
Carclass="underline" Magical Fervor.
Mordecai: Triples their mana points and increases their strength. It also makes them glow and talk really loud. They’ll be immune to your Fear.
Ahh shit, I thought. The plan had been to goad these guys into attacking us in front of the town guards. As long as they made the first move, Mordecai assured us the guards would fight on our side. But now I was worried the two swordsmen at the end of the street wouldn’t be enough for this.
Protective Shell wouldn’t protect us from magical attacks. I had my Wisp Armor, but that wouldn’t help Donut. My mind raced. We had two different plays in our book that might work. We had “Mold Lion,” which was named after the first fight we’d used the plan in. The second, newest one, was called “Mic Drop.” That one would probably work better, but it would likely end with the guards hunting us, which was something I wanted to avoid if possible.
Donut: Mold Lion again?
Carclass="underline" I think so. Get ready.
I prepared to jump forward into their midst. I’d cast Protective Shell anyway, which would physically launch them in every which direction. Like with the mold lions, it would hopefully kill a couple. If so, Donut would have a few precious moments to raise them from the dead, which would give us a few meat shields and even out the odds.
Salvatore continued his rant, but under the influence of the Magical Fervor buff, his voice carried as if over a loudspeaker. I kept my eyes glued to the dots on the minimap, waiting for them to turn red. If I moved a second too soon, we’d be doubly fucked. The shell wouldn’t push the elves, and the swordsmen guards would move in on us instead. “The angel, our master, prepares us for the end of days,” Salvatore squealed. “He has almost achieved all his tasks. We are prepared to blossom on Her. We, the 201st Security Group, are prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice to protect the angel, who in turn works toward Apito’s vision of the Plantation. Apito warns us of the great beast who yearns to unravel the heavens and kill all the gods. And now, this great deceiver, this devourer of all that is holy, has a name. She is Donut, the Oak Fell. The Death Upon Us All. She Who Ends. And with the help of my brothers and sisters, I will…”
Thwap!
Salvatore crumpled to the ground, screaming as he clutched at his head. The enormously-pregnant, female dwarf hit him again with the rolling pin, yelling. Behind her, the group of young dwarves who’d been playing in the street all returned. The rock-thrower from before had a massive bandage around his head. The one who’d been holding the salamander on the stick picked up the broken branch and stared at it.
“Where’s Benjamin?” he called.
The dwarf woman, who was apparently the mother of the entire crew, continued to pummel Salvatore with the rolling pin. “Throw a rock at my boy, will ya! I’ll teach ya a lesson ye’ll never forget ye crazy lump of reconstituted snail shit! You arseholes waving yer silly branches all about all day long! We is sick of it, we is!”