Westin dropped his arm. “If my counsel is unwelcome, I will cease speaking at once. Yet as you are new to this realm, I feel as if I should offer you advice.”
“The fuck is this, Westin? Why are you going all formal all the sudden?”
“We no longer have the luxury to be informal. I am a son of Proudglade Manor, and you are... were... my captor. I should address you with respect.”
Drake was starting to doubt his own memories. “But I didn’t capture you, remember? That was the other guy. The one who ordered me to carve a circle on your chest.”
“Yet we have now confirmed you are the lord of Gloomwood Manor.”
Drake once again resisted the urge to punch Westin in the face. “But I’m not the dude who locked you up. I was chained up with you, and then I saved your naked ass.”
“Yet Lord Gloomwood did abduct me, and you must decide how you will justify that act before we negotiate for my release.”
“Justify what? It wasn’t me!”
“Who you were before you obtained your new title and blood pact no longer matters to the noble court. Just as you now own all the former lord’s thralls and assets, you also now bear all responsibility for his debts and crimes. You are Lord Gloomwood now.”
“But...” Drake was truly struggling. “I killed him?”
“Yes,” Westin said patiently. “Which, because he had no designated successor, means you have replaced him. While individual manor lords can die, their blood pact and title lives on in perpetuity. When defeated in battle, if they have no successor, and if their killer has divine blood, the debts of the former manor lord pass onto the newest manor lord.”
So Westin was saying that the folks outside were going to try to pin Westin’s abduction on Drake? Even though he’d literally been “Lord Gloomwood” for all of ten minutes? No. That couldn’t be what Westin meant. That was simply too insane.
Westin smiled gently. “As I said, I will argue on your behalf, but you must be prepared to negotiate with my father’s knights. I would hate for harm to befall you after you helped me.”
“You can help me by telling whoever’s here to rescue you I saved your life!”
“Gloomwood Manor is yours now,” Westin said firmly. “All that the former lords have accomplished, all the deals they have made and all the allies and enemies they have gained, are now yours. And the former lords of Gloomwood, I fear, made many enemies in their time.”
“Oh, fuck that.” Drake was pissed at himself for wasting so much time listening to this nonsense. “I’m not doing that. I’m not joining your stupid game.”
“My lord... you no longer have a choice.”
“Yeah, we’ll just see about that.”
No more. He’d give Westin back to whoever was actually waiting outside, make up some bullshit reason why he had to leave the manor, and leave. But... where would he go?
It didn’t matter. He just wanted to get away from here. He’d even walk right through the New Mexico desert if it got him away from this crazy manor and its crazy denizens.
“Time to go,” Drake said. “Follow me.” He yanked the door open.
Olivia waited outside, still bowing. Drake ignored her. As he hurried for the larger double doors he hoped led out into this “garden”, he noticed others had joined the maids. Two huge men in full armor now stood in the hallway, wearing the most convincing prosthetics he had ever seen. They even had animatronic tails.
They looked like lizards. Like lizard men. It must be hot under all that makeup. The former dead LARPing serial killer of Gloomwood Manor really had spared no expense for his personal fantasy, if this was that. If it wasn’t...
No! This wasn’t real. This insanity could not be real. Drake strode past the maids and the lizard men and threw open the front doors to Gloomwood Manor. He stepped outside into...
Fuck this. Fuck this immaculate hedge maze garden, fuck the forest of towering silver trees in the distance, and fuck that absolutely impossible daytime sky. There were at least three moons up there. This sky was no illusion.
This wasn’t New Mexico. This wasn’t even Earth. This was... somewhere else, which suggested the compulsive blood magic and the ritual circle and the battle maids and lizardman were all real things that existed. Things that could hurt him. Drake wasn’t on Earth any longer, and he really had inherited a dead demon summoner’s opulent manor.
He wanted to tell himself this was a dream, the last refuge of a mind freezing and dying inside a wrecked truck, but this world, while it obviously wasn’t his world, felt too real to be a dream. Something deep inside him was absolutely certain he was awake and alive and experiencing all this, which meant he had to accept what was happening to survive.
And he was going to survive. No matter how ridiculous this strange world got, no matter how many battle maids and lizard dudes and demon-summoning rituals he encountered, Drake was going to survive and get back home. And once he was back on Earth, he’d make millions writing books about his journey to another world full of blathering idiots.
The lead knight stepped forward and slammed the butt of a long pike into the grass. “Lord Gloomwood! You have finally emerged from your manor! Will you dare challenge us yourself, or have you selected another champion for us to humiliate?”
The man was tall and probably human, though given he wore a full face helmet, he could be anything... even a furry. The important bit was that his armor still looked pristine, the tip of his pike was visibly glowing, and he held himself like a guy who knew how to stab someone with a pike. Drake did not want to get stabbed with a pike.
The other three adventurers were all armored the same as the leader. He couldn’t tell their sex from their armor, so if this world had female knights, at least they didn’t wear bikini armor. That would have stretched Drake’s already straining credulity well beyond its limit.
The two knights behind the man with the pike carried shields with glowing swords, and the one in the back carried a gleaming golden bow. Fucking LARPers, Drake thought silently. He hissed under his breath as he noticed the last figure.
The four golden-armored adventures weren’t alone. There was another figure with them, a kneeling lizardman in battered black armor. He was covered in blood and bleeding from multiple wounds. He looked just like the two lizardmen back inside, except much bigger.
That lizardman must be one of Gloomwood Manor’s warriors, and he’d apparently gotten the shit kicked out of him in the recent battle. Given he was now kneeling only a few paces from the guy with the glowing pike, it seemed obvious the golden knights could kill him if he so much as breathed wrong.
“Hold on!” Drake marched forward. “That’s my lizard man!”
“He has surrendered,” the lead warrior said. “On your orders. Had you not given those orders, his life would be forfeit.”
“Or you would be paste,” the lizardman growled. “You are lucky my lord stopped me from killing you when he did.” He didn’t sound the least bit cowed.
“No one’s killing anyone today!” Drake shouted. “We surrendered, remember?”
Pike Knight sneered. “The depth of your crimes is well known to us and all now here.” He said that in what had to be the most pompous way possible. “Now, will you come with us in peace and submit to the noble court? Do so, and more bloodshed can be avoided.”
“Don’t surrender,” Westin said quietly from Drake’s side. “The facts are weighed against you now. Bargain. You have all the leverage here.”
“What leverage?”
“As a son of Proudglade Manor, I’m far more valuable than anyone here. So tell my knights that if they harm your people, you will harm me. You must mean it.”
Drake stared at Westin. “But I’m not a criminal, remember?”
“You are Lord Gloomwood now,” Westin insisted. “Act like it, or you and the former lord’s subjects may all end up tasting blades today.”
Westin dropped his arm. “If my counsel is unwelcome, I will cease speaking at once. Yet as you are new to this realm, I feel as if I should offer you advice.”
“The fuck is this, Westin? Why are you going all formal all the sudden?”
“We no longer have the luxury to be informal. I am a son of Proudglade Manor, and you are... were... my captor. I should address you with respect.”
Drake was starting to doubt his own memories. “But I didn’t capture you, remember? That was the other guy. The one who ordered me to carve a circle on your chest.”
“Yet we have now confirmed you are the lord of Gloomwood Manor.”
Drake once again resisted the urge to punch Westin in the face. “But I’m not the dude who locked you up. I was chained up with you, and then I saved your naked ass.”
“Yet Lord Gloomwood did abduct me, and you must decide how you will justify that act before we negotiate for my release.”
“Justify what? It wasn’t me!”
“Who you were before you obtained your new title and blood pact no longer matters to the noble court. Just as you now own all the former lord’s thralls and assets, you also now bear all responsibility for his debts and crimes. You are Lord Gloomwood now.”
“But...” Drake was truly struggling. “I killed him?”
“Yes,” Westin said patiently. “Which, because he had no designated successor, means you have replaced him. While individual manor lords can die, their blood pact and title lives on in perpetuity. When defeated in battle, if they have no successor, and if their killer has divine blood, the debts of the former manor lord pass onto the newest manor lord.”
So Westin was saying that the folks outside were going to try to pin Westin’s abduction on Drake? Even though he’d literally been “Lord Gloomwood” for all of ten minutes? No. That couldn’t be what Westin meant. That was simply too insane.
Westin smiled gently. “As I said, I will argue on your behalf, but you must be prepared to negotiate with my father’s knights. I would hate for harm to befall you after you helped me.”
“You can help me by telling whoever’s here to rescue you I saved your life!”
“Gloomwood Manor is yours now,” Westin said firmly. “All that the former lords have accomplished, all the deals they have made and all the allies and enemies they have gained, are now yours. And the former lords of Gloomwood, I fear, made many enemies in their time.”
“Oh, fuck that.” Drake was pissed at himself for wasting so much time listening to this nonsense. “I’m not doing that. I’m not joining your stupid game.”
“My lord... you no longer have a choice.”
“Yeah, we’ll just see about that.”
No more. He’d give Westin back to whoever was actually waiting outside, make up some bullshit reason why he had to leave the manor, and leave. But... where would he go?
It didn’t matter. He just wanted to get away from here. He’d even walk right through the New Mexico desert if it got him away from this crazy manor and its crazy denizens.
“Time to go,” Drake said. “Follow me.” He yanked the door open.
Olivia waited outside, still bowing. Drake ignored her. As he hurried for the larger double doors he hoped led out into this “garden”, he noticed others had joined the maids. Two huge men in full armor now stood in the hallway, wearing the most convincing prosthetics he had ever seen. They even had animatronic tails.
They looked like lizards. Like lizard men. It must be hot under all that makeup. The former dead LARPing serial killer of Gloomwood Manor really had spared no expense for his personal fantasy, if this was that. If it wasn’t...
No! This wasn’t real. This insanity could not be real. Drake strode past the maids and the lizard men and threw open the front doors to Gloomwood Manor. He stepped outside into...
Fuck this. Fuck this immaculate hedge maze garden, fuck the forest of towering silver trees in the distance, and fuck that absolutely impossible daytime sky. There were at least three moons up there. This sky was no illusion.
This wasn’t New Mexico. This wasn’t even Earth. This was... somewhere else, which suggested the compulsive blood magic and the ritual circle and the battle maids and lizardman were all real things that existed. Things that could hurt him. Drake wasn’t on Earth any longer, and he really had inherited a dead demon summoner’s opulent manor.
He wanted to tell himself this was a dream, the last refuge of a mind freezing and dying inside a wrecked truck, but this world, while it obviously wasn’t his world, felt too real to be a dream. Something deep inside him was absolutely certain he was awake and alive and experiencing all this, which meant he had to accept what was happening to survive.
And he was going to survive. No matter how ridiculous this strange world got, no matter how many battle maids and lizard dudes and demon-summoning rituals he encountered, Drake was going to survive and get back home. And once he was back on Earth, he’d make millions writing books about his journey to another world full of blathering idiots.
The lead knight stepped forward and slammed the butt of a long pike into the grass. “Lord Gloomwood! You have finally emerged from your manor! Will you dare challenge us yourself, or have you selected another champion for us to humiliate?”
The man was tall and probably human, though given he wore a full face helmet, he could be anything... even a furry. The important bit was that his armor still looked pristine, the tip of his pike was visibly glowing, and he held himself like a guy who knew how to stab someone with a pike. Drake did not want to get stabbed with a pike.
The other three adventurers were all armored the same as the leader. He couldn’t tell their sex from their armor, so if this world had female knights, at least they didn’t wear bikini armor. That would have stretched Drake’s already straining credulity well beyond its limit.
The two knights behind the man with the pike carried shields with glowing swords, and the one in the back carried a gleaming golden bow. Fucking LARPers, Drake thought silently. He hissed under his breath as he noticed the last figure.
The four golden-armored adventures weren’t alone. There was another figure with them, a kneeling lizardman in battered black armor. He was covered in blood and bleeding from multiple wounds. He looked just like the two lizardmen back inside, except much bigger.
That lizardman must be one of Gloomwood Manor’s warriors, and he’d apparently gotten the shit kicked out of him in the recent battle. Given he was now kneeling only a few paces from the guy with the glowing pike, it seemed obvious the golden knights could kill him if he so much as breathed wrong.
“Hold on!” Drake marched forward. “That’s my lizard man!”
“He has surrendered,” the lead warrior said. “On your orders. Had you not given those orders, his life would be forfeit.”
“Or you would be paste,” the lizardman growled. “You are lucky my lord stopped me from killing you when he did.” He didn’t sound the least bit cowed.
“No one’s killing anyone today!” Drake shouted. “We surrendered, remember?”
Pike Knight sneered. “The depth of your crimes is well known to us and all now here.” He said that in what had to be the most pompous way possible. “Now, will you come with us in peace and submit to the noble court? Do so, and more bloodshed can be avoided.”
“Don’t surrender,” Westin said quietly from Drake’s side. “The facts are weighed against you now. Bargain. You have all the leverage here.”
“What leverage?”
“As a son of Proudglade Manor, I’m far more valuable than anyone here. So tell my knights that if they harm your people, you will harm me. You must mean it.”
Drake stared at Westin. “But I’m not a criminal, remember?”
“You are Lord Gloomwood now,” Westin insisted. “Act like it, or you and the former lord’s subjects may all end up tasting blades today.”
