Chapter 38 A Plot of Battle Schemes and Stereotypes
Em’s Subtitle: Preparing to Kick Kriqir’s Ass
Everywhere Em and her party traveled to recruit fighters for their final battle was dusted in ash, and a burnt stench hung in the air. Gloominess seemed to suck the bright life out of her world, and the more she saw his gory destruction and invasion, the deeper her determination rooted in her.
Kriqir the Living’s armies of orcs and liches had swept through the southern regions of Novella.
So far, he’d nearly burnt all of Meyer’s Realm to the ground, enslaving the vampires and werewolves.
Word had it he’d also begun to take over the Moons of Lucas to steal mech technology and had laid siege to the Rowling Institute of Magic.
Kriqir’s troops left villages ransacked, farms uprooted, and forests toppled.
Guilt squeezed at Em, knowing her selfishness had allowed the necromancer to begin his conquering of Novella.
She sent Roden back to the Glorious Musclewood Covert to call on the Wood Elves. Given her prophecy as the Chosen One originated from them, she knew the half-elf Prince would be able to sway his people to her cause.
Sasha took it upon herself to return to Mercer Village to scavenge what remnants of the Leiber Guild still existed. The mass hiring of adventuring parties turned out to be simple; the guild members were desperate for coin after the falling economy in Novella from the invasion.
Gair and Ming made quick trips to Larian Community College for Secondary Characters to collect as many willing students as possible. Their unified force brought in a variety of students with hundreds of unique majors that provided new ideas and support to the growing armies of Novella.
Through it all, Em kept Polo Took-Took with her. The imp was more thrilled at her mission for him than anything else he’d participated in the quest thus far: a makeover.
If she was going to face a stereotypical, cliché dark overlord in a tower to complete an Elvish prophecy as Chosen One, Em decided she wanted to look the part.
Just for the hell of it. After all, Kriqir would be expecting her to try to be as unique or original as possible, so instead, she decided to do the exact opposite.
“I’m so so so excited I finally get to bring you to your fully gorgeous potential, Highness!
” Polo wove a complex, braided half-updo into her hair as they prepared at the One Bed Inn.
The Veil of Maas sat conveniently close to the center of Novella, creating the perfect regrouping location for when the others returned.
Despite how uncomfortable the Fae made Em, she succumbed to practicality over opinions and agreed to prepare for the final battle there.
“Well, consider it payment for all the ways I betrayed you,” Em said. She tried not to wince as his fingers dug into her scalp to weave roses into her hair. It took every ounce of willpower not to smear her hand across her face with the thick layers of creams and itchy powders the imp had applied.
“You could never betray me,” Polo beamed at her through the vanity mirror, pausing his work. “You’re the incredible Almighty Queen of Stars, Princess of the White Rose Valley, and Heir to the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower. You’re perfect!”
To complain would be stereotypical, so Em bit her tongue and just shrugged. “If you say so.”
Polo froze, staring at her.
“Something wrong?” Em examined herself in the mirror, worried she’d somehow managed to mess up his meticulous work.
The imp just grinned. Polo let the rest of her hair go, and it slid into place just so. “You look like a Chosen One.”
For once, Em allowed herself the guilty pleasure of looking at her reflection.
Her green eyes shone beneath the golden glimmer he’d spread on, her cheeks were rosy with blush, and her bare shoulders were taut with developing muscles from her previous sequences.
Her sidekick had selected the perfect white dress for her, the folds layering like rose petals, and the corset was the right mixture of confident yet modest.
She looked different.
Like a queen.
“Kriqir is going to wet himself seeing how awesome you are,” Polo said.
Em cringed, the moment shattered. “Do I want to know what type of ‘wetting’ you’re referring to?”
“Probably not.”
“Ugh.” She nudged the giggling imp away. “You’re gross.”
“No, I’m shameless!” Polo saluted her then skipped around the room in a circle, his tail flicking with excitement. “And way too overly amused with how embarrassed you are at the idea of anything sexual.”
“Well, hate to burst your bubble, but we aren’t going to war,” Em said.
Polo paused mid-hop, eyes widening. “You… aren’t?”
“Of course not.” She snorted. “A final battle is fucking cliché. I might be embracing some tropes now, but I still need to end my story with a slam-bang finish.”
“You could just slam bang one of those two hotties who’ve been yearning after you this whole time,” Polo bobbed his eyebrows.
“Pooolo,” Em groaned.
“I kid, I kid, Highness.” He burst out laughing before fussing with straightening the trains of her skirts. Polo cracked a smirk at her through their reflections. “But seriously; what do you mean you aren’t going to war?”
“I’m going to set everything up to look like a battle,” Em explained.
“Then, we will do every chaotic thing possible to keep Kriqir distracted until I can get a quick, easy kill with the dragon relic. We need to do anything that will avoid innocent people’s deaths.
Especially the necromancer could turn our own dead soldiers against us. ”
The image of exploding orc zombies resurrecting in Mercer Village flashed across her memory, and Em shuddered. She wouldn’t be able to face an army of her dead friends if the chance arrived.
“Well, whatever you end up doing, you will look perfect doing it,” Polo said.
“Thanks,” she flashed him a genuine smile.
“No, thank you,” the imp bowed dramatically at her. “The pleasure was all mine, Highness. It was about time you embraced the beautiful boss-babe that you are.”
Never in her life had Em been more overjoyed to see something so cliché.
The dark streak of the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower cut into the horizon, exciting her more than the armies of Novella marching behind her.
Her friends must have been even more determined than she was because they’d gathered thousands of willing volunteers to help her lay siege to Kriqir’s tower.
Be it Elves, Fae, humans, or other species oddities, thousands had come in response to her beckoned call to lay siege on Kriqir the Living.
Tense anticipation bubbled in her. Despite it, Em felt an extra skip to her step, her white gown swishing about her and the weight of Destiny’s Song, Reaver of Diligence bumped against her hip. Brolzross’ relic hid snuggly within a secret pocket at her other side.
Roden and Gair flanked her, stalking on high alert. Both kept a keen eye out for any lurking orcs within the gnarled woods, hands on their weapons, ready to protect her.
“You nervous?” Ming asked, hooking their arms together.
The mentor-in-training was extra jittery, making Em wonder if the Tiefling girl had consumed a few gallons of caffeine after a sleepless night of their preparations together.
The scent of gunpowder still followed Ming, and both girls could only hope no one noticed.
It might give away their secret plotting too soon.
“No, I’m excited,” Em admitted.
“Good.” Ming cracked a strained smile. “We’ve instructed the Wood Elves to set camp at the foot of the tower, and the Guild Members are on first watch tonight… oh, my classmates from Larian are responsible for cooking dinner tonight… they claim it’s going to be a real frat party in your honor…”
“It’s okay.” Em patted the tense Tiefling’s arm. “You can breathe, Ming.”
“I just am nervous— you’re my first Main Character, and this is my first ever final battle and…”
“It’s okay,” Em repeated with a chuckle. “You’re a good mentor. You’re already doing a fantastic job at ensuring everything goes according to plan.”
Ming tugged at her stubby horns with a tight sigh. “That’s the problem… everyone’s told me different plans. I can’t figure out what the real one is, or how you’re actually envisioning this all to go… and if the distraction doesn’t work…”
“Spontaneity,” Em said. “That’s my only goal. No one dies except Kriqir, and we win.”
“That’s it?” Ming’s face creased with stress.
“Yep.”
“What if something goes wrong?” the mentor-in-training asked frantically.
“Well, then we will make something else work,” Em said.
“As long as you have a few tricks up your sleeves for yourself,” Ming forced a weak smile. “Or more backup ideas other than what we discussed last night.”
“You already know I do.”
Her new armies began encircling the base of the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower. The Tolk-Town imps, Polo’s distant relatives, played on flutes and drums to encourage everyone as they set up and laid siege on the necromancer’s fortress.
Em stood on the edge of the stone bridge, staring at the bloodstains she’d left behind the night she came fleeing to Kriqir.
Never again would she make the mistake of turning to a villain for help.
She balled her fists. The weeping, rageful girl she was a few sequences ago was no more—she’d patched the bitterness in her heart and finally began to feel at peace with her shitty plotline. No matter how much it sucked.
Em scuffed her boot into dirt, smiling secretly to herself. Her friends gathered about her, hands on hips or drawing weapons in confidence. Their support raised her swelling confidence to the heavens.
So… this is what it feels like to become a real hero.
Or to just grow up.
“What is this foolishness?” a voice screamed overhead.
Em craned her neck, shielding her eyes with her hand.