“Anyway,” Drake added. “Sorry about your axe. Where can we get you another one?”
Cresh glowered. “Blood Woe was bequeathed to me by the shaman of the waters. My ancestors have carried that axe proudly into battle for twelve generations. Never in all that time has one of us been defeated or lost it in battle, until today. Until you ordered me to surrender to those knights and allowed them to take Blood Woe away from me.”
“Well, that axe sounds pretty valuable, so I’ll see if I can get it back.”
“The Proudglade have Blood Woe now. It is a weapon of legendary power and reputation. They will never surrender it.”
“Maybe, but we can still negotiate with them, can’t we?” Drake wasn’t sure what he planned to do after all this, other than take a nap, but it seemed clear he wasn’t going anywhere other than this manor. “So chin up. Maybe we’ll find some way to get your axe back.”
“You are too weak and impotent to manage that.”
Drake frowned. “You know, I’m going to let that slide this time, since you just lost your favorite axe, but we’re done with the speak freely stuff for now. Go... get yourself patched up. We have medicine and such here?”
“The shaman Raylan sees to the wounds of the warriors.”
“Great, then go see him. Them. Whoever. That’s an order. Get your wounds seen too and then... what exactly were you doing before those golden assholes showed up?”
Cresh slammed his tail against the grass so hard Drake felt the impact in his feet. “I was standing guard at the entrance to your estate!”
“Right. So get yourself healed and cleaned up, get another axe from the armory,” Drake certainly hoped they had an armory, “and go stand guard over my estate some more.” He needed to get this giant lizardman out of his hair before he could do anything else.
Cresh stomped around Drake and headed, not toward the front doors, but as if he intended to walk around the manor. Maybe he didn’t go inside much since he’d likely bump into all the chandeliers. Either way, Drake was still alive... and alone.
He now stood alone in a strange world. As odd as Westin had been, nearly getting carved apart in a torture dungeon had allowed them to bond. With Westin gone, he had no friends here. No one he could trust.
He couldn’t call his mother to tell her he wasn’t dead. He couldn’t get in touch with any of his friends back on Earth. And while the manor staff had apparently sworn to serve him because of this “blood pact”, that didn’t exactly make them friends.
It was likely the only reason the whole lot of them hadn’t murdered him already.
This hedge garden was nice enough, but beyond was a forest of massive silver trees with green and gray branches, all covered in fog. Gloomwood, indeed. That wood out there looked gloomy as fuck. There also didn’t look to be a path through those woods.
Drake didn’t know the first thing about navigating through a dense forest of towering silver trees. He had no idea where to start looking for a way home and no idea if he could even get home. He wasn’t cutting his way through a forest today.
Blundering in there alone seemed like a great way to die. There were certainly monsters in those silver woods. He’d probably get eaten by carnivorous beavers.
Also... what about that blood-soaked corpse in the torture dungeon? Had the people here assisted in killing that person? Had Lydia and Olivia and Cresh and all the other denizens of this manor watched and cheered that lord guy on as he chopped up his hostages?
They certainly hadn’t stopped him. Not one manor denizen had come down to that dungeon to rescue him. Had he not stabbed the former Lord Gloomwood with his own dagger, Drake would be dead now. So would Westin.
Also, whatever demon the old lord had tried to summon would be free, since magic was real in this world. It had obedience discs and summoning magic. Westin had said the old man was trying to summon a “leviathan”, which sounded seriously bad.
Drake had questions, lots of questions, and with the immediate threat of golden knights now dealt with, it was time to get those questions answered. If his... manor staff... were as loyal as they seemed, it couldn’t be hard to find out more about his new role.
And he really needed to know how this “blood pact” he’d just inherited actually worked.
Drake left the bright sky and its many moons and the gloomy forest on their own for now. He walked back to the big double doors and was still a full ten steps away when they swung open. The two zarovians he’d seen earlier—both armored, but visibly smaller than Cresh—stepped outside and stood at attention. Had they seen him coming?
He was too mentally exhausted to ask for their names. He’d get them later, maybe. Also, Olivia and Lydia and that red-haired Amazon maid were all standing at attention in the center of the big open lobby with the stairs leading up. They looked like they were waiting for orders.
He really was a manor lord now, for some incomprehensible reason. He had battle maids, and lizardman guardians, and Raylan the healing person all working for him, like... his employees. He also had his own torture dungeon. Not that he planned to visit again any time soon, though... he should probably ask someone to get the former lord’s body.
If he hadn’t already, that dead old fucker was going to stink up the place.
He looked to the red-headed Amazon. “Name?”
She snapped to attention with a wide grin. “Oh, I’m Emily!” She looked more than a bit pleased that he’d finally asked her to give her name.
“Great. Good for you. So Olivia, Emily. How long do you normally work during a day?”
Lydia stepped forward. “All your servants serve according to your wishes, lord.”
Drake ruefully rubbed his chin. He didn’t like that word—servant—or her implication that these people had no choice but to work for him. “So do you folks ever stop working?”
“Of course, lord,” Lydia said patiently. “We take our leisure when our lord permits it.”
“Great. I order all of you to take the day off. Get something to eat, rest up if you need it, have a smoke break or shoot some pool or do whatever you to relieve stress. You’ve earned it.”
“But, lord.” Lydia grimaced. “Who will defend the manor if we all relax?”
So there were still other people out there wanting to assault this place? Westin had said the lord of Gloomwood Manor had many enemies. Who were all Drake’s enemies, now.
He was going about this all wrong. He wasn’t just some dude, not any longer, and he couldn’t just chill here with his weirdly obedient... employees... and lizardmen. Sooner or later, someone was absolutely going to try and kill him again.
He was the lord of this manor now, and he had to start thinking like the lord of a manor if he wanted to survive. If he told all the guards to take the day off, the whole manor could get razed by their enemies. That meant all of these people would die as well.
“That’s actually a good point, Lydia. Thank you. I’ll revise my orders. Who normally defends this manor?”
“Cresh leads six lizardmen on a daily patrol. Two of his best zarovians guard this lobby. Our reserves gather in the barracks in the back of the manor. And two battle maids are always on duty, either guarding you or doing your bidding.”
“And do any of you ever take breaks?”
“Changes of shift are organized to Cresh, while I organize the schedule for the manor staff. Shall I summon Cresh so he can answer your questions in more detail?”
“No, that’s fine.” At least his people took shifts and got breaks. “And all our soldiers are lizard—” He caught himself. “Zarovians?”
“No,” Lydia said. “A demihuman also serves you, and you may also count many vero among your forces. Those patrol the forest outside the manor as our eyes and ears among their trees. I can recall them if you wish.”
“So these vero are scouts,” Drake agreed eagerly. “And they’re watching the perimeter. Did they report the arrival of those knights?”
“Long before they arrived. That is how Cresh knew to challenge them.”
So he already had scouts out there in those woods to warn them about any approaching attackers. Nice. “Okay, my orders are this then.” He looked to the lizardmen. “You two! Keep doing what you do. Listen to Cresh.” He looked to the maids. “Olivia, Emily? Get some food and rest up. You’ve earned it.”
Olivia stood timidly until Emily snatched her hand and all but yanked her off her feet. “Thank you, lord! Let us know when you again require us.”
The way Lydia’s lips pressed together told Drake she didn’t approve of his orders. She seemed to be in charge here, and she also seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. Now that he knew she wasn’t deluded, she could likely explain a lot.
“Tell me what’s on your mind. Speak freely, Lydia.”
She looked away. “I do not feel comfortable doing so, lord.” She now looked visibly uncomfortable, even nervous, which was odd given he’d simply told her to take a break.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“First... I would like to know what you plan to do with me.”
Drake was, once again, utterly lost. “In regards to what?”
“My punishment.”
“For what?”
“Abducting you, lord.”
As Drake stared at her in shock, Lydia now looked more angry than afraid.
“Emily and Olivia had nothing to do with your abduction. They were not even there. You will need them uninjured so they can defend you in battle, so punishing them is dangerous.”
“Why would I punish any of you?”
“I aided in your abduction. If I must die for that I would ask only that you show mercy... if you can find it within you. A quick death. Perhaps a beheading.”
“No one is beheading anyone today!” Drake was just about done with these people and their insane habits. “Are you people all psychopaths? Is killing all you do here?”
“What does that mean? Psychopath?”
“Oh, have I confused you? It must be so frustrating having no idea what’s going on!”
“I cannot answer your question unless I know what it means,” Lydia insisted plaintively. “Many in this realm are murderous, especially those who sit around the table. But I cannot say if they are psychopaths. First, I need you to define psychopath.”
Drake couldn’t believe how calm she sounded. Like she’d given up all hope. “No, you don’t. I withdraw the question.” It was obvious this woman had been dealing with... a lot. As frustrating as it was being dropped into all this, it wasn’t right to take it out on her.
“Then...” Lydia now looked even more confused. “Do you plan to punish me?”
“No.” It seemed he needed to be crystal clear about this. “I’m not going to punish you in any way for whatever you did to bring me here, and I swear that right now, all right? You didn’t want to bring me here. Did that big robed fucker even give you a choice?”
“He did not.”
“So no execution for you or anyone here. No punishment of any kind for you or the other manor denizens. I do, however, need to talk to you in private. If I really am the lord of this manor now... which, to be clear, remains insane... I need to know everything I can about it.”
Lydia bowed at the waist. “I will answer all the questions I can, lord.”
“And no more bowing.”
As she rose, she eyed him curiously. “Does bowing offend you?”
“It’s unnecessary. I don’t want or need bowing.”
“I will spread your new directive amongst the staff. Now, I will show you to the private room you requested.” She took a breath. “Where we can talk.”
“Anyway,” Drake added. “Sorry about your axe. Where can we get you another one?”
Cresh glowered. “Blood Woe was bequeathed to me by the shaman of the waters. My ancestors have carried that axe proudly into battle for twelve generations. Never in all that time has one of us been defeated or lost it in battle, until today. Until you ordered me to surrender to those knights and allowed them to take Blood Woe away from me.”
“Well, that axe sounds pretty valuable, so I’ll see if I can get it back.”
“The Proudglade have Blood Woe now. It is a weapon of legendary power and reputation. They will never surrender it.”
“Maybe, but we can still negotiate with them, can’t we?” Drake wasn’t sure what he planned to do after all this, other than take a nap, but it seemed clear he wasn’t going anywhere other than this manor. “So chin up. Maybe we’ll find some way to get your axe back.”
“You are too weak and impotent to manage that.”
Drake frowned. “You know, I’m going to let that slide this time, since you just lost your favorite axe, but we’re done with the speak freely stuff for now. Go... get yourself patched up. We have medicine and such here?”
“The shaman Raylan sees to the wounds of the warriors.”
“Great, then go see him. Them. Whoever. That’s an order. Get your wounds seen too and then... what exactly were you doing before those golden assholes showed up?”
Cresh slammed his tail against the grass so hard Drake felt the impact in his feet. “I was standing guard at the entrance to your estate!”
“Right. So get yourself healed and cleaned up, get another axe from the armory,” Drake certainly hoped they had an armory, “and go stand guard over my estate some more.” He needed to get this giant lizardman out of his hair before he could do anything else.
Cresh stomped around Drake and headed, not toward the front doors, but as if he intended to walk around the manor. Maybe he didn’t go inside much since he’d likely bump into all the chandeliers. Either way, Drake was still alive... and alone.
He now stood alone in a strange world. As odd as Westin had been, nearly getting carved apart in a torture dungeon had allowed them to bond. With Westin gone, he had no friends here. No one he could trust.
He couldn’t call his mother to tell her he wasn’t dead. He couldn’t get in touch with any of his friends back on Earth. And while the manor staff had apparently sworn to serve him because of this “blood pact”, that didn’t exactly make them friends.
It was likely the only reason the whole lot of them hadn’t murdered him already.
This hedge garden was nice enough, but beyond was a forest of massive silver trees with green and gray branches, all covered in fog. Gloomwood, indeed. That wood out there looked gloomy as fuck. There also didn’t look to be a path through those woods.
Drake didn’t know the first thing about navigating through a dense forest of towering silver trees. He had no idea where to start looking for a way home and no idea if he could even get home. He wasn’t cutting his way through a forest today.
Blundering in there alone seemed like a great way to die. There were certainly monsters in those silver woods. He’d probably get eaten by carnivorous beavers.
Also... what about that blood-soaked corpse in the torture dungeon? Had the people here assisted in killing that person? Had Lydia and Olivia and Cresh and all the other denizens of this manor watched and cheered that lord guy on as he chopped up his hostages?
They certainly hadn’t stopped him. Not one manor denizen had come down to that dungeon to rescue him. Had he not stabbed the former Lord Gloomwood with his own dagger, Drake would be dead now. So would Westin.
Also, whatever demon the old lord had tried to summon would be free, since magic was real in this world. It had obedience discs and summoning magic. Westin had said the old man was trying to summon a “leviathan”, which sounded seriously bad.
Drake had questions, lots of questions, and with the immediate threat of golden knights now dealt with, it was time to get those questions answered. If his... manor staff... were as loyal as they seemed, it couldn’t be hard to find out more about his new role.
And he really needed to know how this “blood pact” he’d just inherited actually worked.
Drake left the bright sky and its many moons and the gloomy forest on their own for now. He walked back to the big double doors and was still a full ten steps away when they swung open. The two zarovians he’d seen earlier—both armored, but visibly smaller than Cresh—stepped outside and stood at attention. Had they seen him coming?
He was too mentally exhausted to ask for their names. He’d get them later, maybe. Also, Olivia and Lydia and that red-haired Amazon maid were all standing at attention in the center of the big open lobby with the stairs leading up. They looked like they were waiting for orders.
He really was a manor lord now, for some incomprehensible reason. He had battle maids, and lizardman guardians, and Raylan the healing person all working for him, like... his employees. He also had his own torture dungeon. Not that he planned to visit again any time soon, though... he should probably ask someone to get the former lord’s body.
If he hadn’t already, that dead old fucker was going to stink up the place.
He looked to the red-headed Amazon. “Name?”
She snapped to attention with a wide grin. “Oh, I’m Emily!” She looked more than a bit pleased that he’d finally asked her to give her name.
“Great. Good for you. So Olivia, Emily. How long do you normally work during a day?”
Lydia stepped forward. “All your servants serve according to your wishes, lord.”
Drake ruefully rubbed his chin. He didn’t like that word—servant—or her implication that these people had no choice but to work for him. “So do you folks ever stop working?”
“Of course, lord,” Lydia said patiently. “We take our leisure when our lord permits it.”
“Great. I order all of you to take the day off. Get something to eat, rest up if you need it, have a smoke break or shoot some pool or do whatever you to relieve stress. You’ve earned it.”
“But, lord.” Lydia grimaced. “Who will defend the manor if we all relax?”
So there were still other people out there wanting to assault this place? Westin had said the lord of Gloomwood Manor had many enemies. Who were all Drake’s enemies, now.
He was going about this all wrong. He wasn’t just some dude, not any longer, and he couldn’t just chill here with his weirdly obedient... employees... and lizardmen. Sooner or later, someone was absolutely going to try and kill him again.
He was the lord of this manor now, and he had to start thinking like the lord of a manor if he wanted to survive. If he told all the guards to take the day off, the whole manor could get razed by their enemies. That meant all of these people would die as well.
“That’s actually a good point, Lydia. Thank you. I’ll revise my orders. Who normally defends this manor?”
“Cresh leads six lizardmen on a daily patrol. Two of his best zarovians guard this lobby. Our reserves gather in the barracks in the back of the manor. And two battle maids are always on duty, either guarding you or doing your bidding.”
“And do any of you ever take breaks?”
“Changes of shift are organized to Cresh, while I organize the schedule for the manor staff. Shall I summon Cresh so he can answer your questions in more detail?”
“No, that’s fine.” At least his people took shifts and got breaks. “And all our soldiers are lizard—” He caught himself. “Zarovians?”
“No,” Lydia said. “A demihuman also serves you, and you may also count many vero among your forces. Those patrol the forest outside the manor as our eyes and ears among their trees. I can recall them if you wish.”
“So these vero are scouts,” Drake agreed eagerly. “And they’re watching the perimeter. Did they report the arrival of those knights?”
“Long before they arrived. That is how Cresh knew to challenge them.”
So he already had scouts out there in those woods to warn them about any approaching attackers. Nice. “Okay, my orders are this then.” He looked to the lizardmen. “You two! Keep doing what you do. Listen to Cresh.” He looked to the maids. “Olivia, Emily? Get some food and rest up. You’ve earned it.”
Olivia stood timidly until Emily snatched her hand and all but yanked her off her feet. “Thank you, lord! Let us know when you again require us.”
The way Lydia’s lips pressed together told Drake she didn’t approve of his orders. She seemed to be in charge here, and she also seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. Now that he knew she wasn’t deluded, she could likely explain a lot.
“Tell me what’s on your mind. Speak freely, Lydia.”
She looked away. “I do not feel comfortable doing so, lord.” She now looked visibly uncomfortable, even nervous, which was odd given he’d simply told her to take a break.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“First... I would like to know what you plan to do with me.”
Drake was, once again, utterly lost. “In regards to what?”
“My punishment.”
“For what?”
“Abducting you, lord.”
As Drake stared at her in shock, Lydia now looked more angry than afraid.
“Emily and Olivia had nothing to do with your abduction. They were not even there. You will need them uninjured so they can defend you in battle, so punishing them is dangerous.”
“Why would I punish any of you?”
“I aided in your abduction. If I must die for that I would ask only that you show mercy... if you can find it within you. A quick death. Perhaps a beheading.”
“No one is beheading anyone today!” Drake was just about done with these people and their insane habits. “Are you people all psychopaths? Is killing all you do here?”
“What does that mean? Psychopath?”
“Oh, have I confused you? It must be so frustrating having no idea what’s going on!”
“I cannot answer your question unless I know what it means,” Lydia insisted plaintively. “Many in this realm are murderous, especially those who sit around the table. But I cannot say if they are psychopaths. First, I need you to define psychopath.”
Drake couldn’t believe how calm she sounded. Like she’d given up all hope. “No, you don’t. I withdraw the question.” It was obvious this woman had been dealing with... a lot. As frustrating as it was being dropped into all this, it wasn’t right to take it out on her.
“Then...” Lydia now looked even more confused. “Do you plan to punish me?”
“No.” It seemed he needed to be crystal clear about this. “I’m not going to punish you in any way for whatever you did to bring me here, and I swear that right now, all right? You didn’t want to bring me here. Did that big robed fucker even give you a choice?”
“He did not.”
“So no execution for you or anyone here. No punishment of any kind for you or the other manor denizens. I do, however, need to talk to you in private. If I really am the lord of this manor now... which, to be clear, remains insane... I need to know everything I can about it.”
Lydia bowed at the waist. “I will answer all the questions I can, lord.”
“And no more bowing.”
As she rose, she eyed him curiously. “Does bowing offend you?”
“It’s unnecessary. I don’t want or need bowing.”
“I will spread your new directive amongst the staff. Now, I will show you to the private room you requested.” She took a breath. “Where we can talk.”
