Chapter 38 A Plot of Battle Schemes and Stereotypes #2
From a balcony at the top of the tower, Kriqir’s dark form leaned to look over her gathering soldiers.
His dark cloak wavered in the wind behind him, a dramatic contrast to his lanky frame.
Although she couldn’t see his masked face from the ground, the way he clung to the railing told her enough; the necromancer wasn’t just taken by surprise. He was scared.
Show time.
“Kriqir the Living!” Em yelled.
A hush fell across the valley, and all eyes locked on the prophesied enemies facing each other off; him in the tower, and her at the foot of it.
“I, Em Smith, the Almighty Queen of Stars, Princess of the White Rose Valley, and Heir to the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower, have come to announce a declaration of war against you!”
Kriqir’s cackle echoed in the breeze. Yet his braced stance didn’t match his menacing tone. “You’re a fool!” he shouted back. “Hand over the dragon relic, and I won’t kill your weakling, cultish followers.”
“Uh, aren’t we the ones laying siege on you?” Gair retorted before Em could respond.
“Don’t make me unleash my orc armies upon you,” Kriqir threatened.
Em’s stomach knotted, but she brushed the anxieties off.
As much as she didn’t want to shed blood, it might become an unfortunate, unavoidable reality.
Stereotypical plots demanded cliché endings, and despite her best efforts, there was nothing she could do if Kriqir still had hordes of orcs protecting his tower despite the armies invading the rest of Novella.
Unless Stephanie had encouraged a villain like Kriqir to bluff in his panic.
Yeah, he’s bluffing. His orcs are busy elsewhere, like you predicted.
Em had no choice but to trust her Great Author and prophecy.
“You shall perish under my power!” Kriqir monologued on, confirming Em’s suspicions. There was no doubt the antagonist was bluffing—any sane villain would’ve just launched an unannounced defensive counterattack.
“All will bow before me after today! None shall ever challenge me so foolishly again. History shall look upon your graves and only see the failure of those who rebelled against me!”
“Is that so?” Em said.
“Nothing you call original will keep you alive, fool,” Kriqir went on.
“Nor will it redeem you or your Great Author for the monstrosities you’ve brought upon this world through your selfish chaos.
I have seen what stories do to Novella, and I will continue to do all I can to destroy the Great Authors. ”
“Good luck with that.” Em snorted. The mental image of Stephanie typing away on her laptop filled her head. “You’re being written as you speak, Kriqir.”
Facts.
“According to the prophecy, you both cursed and stole this tower,” Roden called out. Many of his fellow Wood Elves cheered out in agreement. “Surrender while you still can, for the great prophecy declares that ‘a young girl with green eyes from a camel farm will overthrow Kriqir the Living!’
And that ‘In the end, after a final confrontation full of choir music and magic, she will defeat Kriqir the Living and take back the Cursed-But-One-Uncursed-Tower and become the greatest hero Novella has ever known!’”
“Surrender, Kriqir!” Em challenged again.
“Never!” Kriqir shrieked.
“Fine.” Em sucked in a deep breath, beginning the speech Ming had helped her memorize that morning.
“Kriqir the Living, since you refused our terms of agreement and deny the truth of the great Wood Elf prophecy, you will remain trapped under siege at the hand of the Glorious Musclewood Covert, the sons of the great dwarven lords Nedroic Beastpike and Sardrumlir Metalbender, the keepers of the dragon relic of Brolzross the Once-Nocturnal, various esteemed members of the Leiber Guild from Mercer Village, the imps of Tolk Town, and the Fae Shadow Prince’s court from within the Veil of Maas.
Dare to step outside this tower, and you will be killed on sight. ”
She cleared her throat and went on. “My reign over this realm has been supported by Prince Roden Trislee, Heir of the Wood Elves, half-elf son of the King’s daughter.
Also, by Guild Member Sasha, Professional Side Character and representative of the White Rose Valley, Mentor-in-Training from Larian Community College, Wizard Intern Ming, and Polo Took-Took, Wine Trader of Tolk-Town.
We are also mascotted by the late Faylorn of Rowling, Institute of Magic’s horse, Upsilon Miriandynus of Eallesborough Castle. ”
Faylorn’s white horse whinnied from the back of the encampment.
Wood Elf Captain Kymil stood beside the horse with a scowl on his face, obviously questioning why they had to bring the animal along.
It was a joke mostly, suggested by Polo, and she found it rather funny, but also appropriate to give the dead wizard’s beloved horse a proper scene in her story.
“Oh–– and my best friend, Gair,” Em added, taking a deep breath after so many endless titles and names.
“You could’ve said, Ranger Dragon-Mutant Gair, Killer of Brolzross the Once-Nocturnal,” Gair grumbled.
“That would’ve taken too long,” Em waved his words off, smirking. Then she glanced at Sasha for support. “Did I get all of the titles right?”
The dryad nodded. “You were perfect.”
“I will never surrender to you!” Kriqir shouted.
“Suit yourself.” Em saluted him, then turned on her heel to leave. The necromancer’s continued threats echoed uselessly behind her, but she tuned him out. If he had intended to retaliate against her siege, he would’ve done so by now. Confidence surged through her veins. She clearly had him trapped.
Poor unfortunate Kriqir, so predictable. Her grin grew.
The sight of her raised chin sent her soldiers into thunderous applause.
All around her, the army of Novella constructed their siege camp.
Colorful tents were erected, wood chopped then stacked for large bonfires, blankets laid out for a picnic dinner, and guild bards struck up an inspiring tune to keep everyone’s spirits up.
Energy swelled throughout the encampment.
Laughter or stories were passed amongst strangers while large barrels of wine and ale were drained.
Em soaked everything in, sitting with her friends as they bantered and partied with the others.
Sasha began to dance in the center of camp, clapping her hands and stomping her feet. The dryad spun effortlessly about, beckoning for others to join in.
Quickly, imps and Fae followed suit. Rings formed about the camp as people celebrated the start of their siege over Kriqir. Bards cheered, and Wood Elves clapped their hands to the rhythm as their solemn judgement faded.
Lovers kissed, clinging to each other by the glow of a hundred bonfires.
In the face of death, the world of Novella danced.
Em watched along the sidelines. Various soldiers curtsied or bowed to her in greeting as they passed, muttering her list of long-ass titles as they ran about and celebrated.
She couldn’t help but grin, keeping a keen eye on Kriqir’s balcony in the distance to check if the necromancer watched the unbothered partying at his doorstep.
A touch of guilt bit at her.
She had to kill the guy in a few hours, and he was just another angry teen like her.
Do I try to redeem him? Em turned the concept over in her mind as the merrymaking blurred about her, the bouncy flutes and singing voices muffled in the depths of her contemplations.
The stereotypical choice would be trying to save him for the greater good of his soul.
To try to find some redeemable qualities in the necromancer and bring him “back to the light.”
Although Em knew her plot had become original enough, she did not overthink every cliché and trope; she also couldn’t erase the gory image of zombie-orcs attacking Mercer Village, how much it stung with Kriqir betraying her trust with Inky, or the smoky, violent overtaking of Novella from the FOURTH WALL as Stephanie showed Em his invasion over her world.
Em shook the redemptive arc idea away. Kriqir didn’t deserve to be saved. He’d chosen his own path, and he was too much of a threat to the innocent souls around her.
Plus, her prophecy demanded his death.
“Are you alright, princess?” Roden’s gentle voice brought her back to reality.
Em blinked away her musing, forcing a smile. “Yes, sorry, just lost in thought,”
“I don’t blame you,” Gair said, leaning on his elbows nearby, sprawled along one of the blankets in the grass. His aquamarine eyes watched the dances with innocent fascination, taking in their quick steps and laughter. Still, he hung back with Em and Roden.
“Go dance,” she nudged her best friend, knowing it’s what he wanted.
“I want to be with you,” Gair protested.
The campfire glow reflected off his silvery scales and enhanced the tight grooves of his arm muscles.
Her best friend flashed her a pearly smile, and for a moment, that familiar heat filled her belly she’d felt back at the masquerade at the Veil of Maas. It was enough to make Em blush.
“This is the greatest part of the story after all,” Gair went on, moving closer to her. Their noses practically brushed, his cedarwood scent filling her senses. “Right before we win and you fulfill the prophecy.”
Em’s heart fluttered, but her eyes drew her attention away from Gair to Roden’s thin scowl on her other side.
“I want you to go celebrate then,” she lied to her best friend, hoping he’d leave.
She needed to get rid of both her love interests if she was going to sneak away like she’d planned.
But naturally, the shitty plot wanted her to be with them here in the dim warmth of the campfire, surrounded by the lively party.
No doubt, if this were any other stereotypical book, either guy would invite her back to their tent for the night.
Her stomach curdled at the thought.
Don’t you fucking dare, she thought to Stephanie.
Don’t worry, girl. I respect your boundaries. I won’t keep pushing them at you unless you let me.
“Go dance,” Em pushed at Gair again. “I’m sure it would make Sasha or Polo thrilled.”
“Would it make you happy?” he hesitated.
In the center of camp, Polo and Sasha danced about each other in the heart of the festivities. Somehow, the dryad had gotten a hold of a tambourine with colorful ribbons, and the imp spun about his tail like it was his jigging partner.
“Yes, get out of here!” Em gave him a final shove.
Gair stumbled into the ring of dancers. She laughed at how he blushed, but eventually, he blended into a mixture of cheering Larian students.
Seeing him fit in gave her hope that his chance at becoming a Main Character someday wasn’t totally gone.
If any of her friends had the potential to become a professional, fan-favorite adventurer, it was him.
“Sneaky,” Roden said, shifting closer beside her with a sigh. The half-elf’s eyes glimmered mischievously, almost flirtatiously. “But not clever enough to outsmart me, princess.”
“Whatever do you mean?” She batted her eyelashes innocently at him.
“Where’s Ming?” he asked, cutting to the chase.
Ah, shit. Em bit back her flinch. Roden never stopped being observant.
“She’s out setting up a distraction, just like I asked her to,” she confessed. “As a wizard in training, I figured her magic and need to earn a good grade on her senior thesis was motivation enough for Ming to light some explosives.”
Em carefully left out the fact that she’d bribed Sasha and Polo to start the dancing. If her plan was going to work, they needed to keep her soldiers distracted. Better everyone happy and clueless than stressed waiting to see if her secret ploys worked.
“And do the rest of your soldiers know about this distraction?” Roden raised a wry eyebrow, as if he could read her thoughts.
She shrugged, hoping she appeared casual. “I don’t intend to actually start a battle with Kriqir. It’s too cliché.”
“So, we are bait then?”
“What do you want, Roden Trislee?” Em’s irritation flared as the nearby bonfire spat sparks into the night sky.
“To be included in whatever disaster you’re intending to start,” he said. “The prophecy makes it clear you have a mentor and three Side Characters with you in the finale of this quest. Along with your True Love. You’re not meant to do this alone.”
“You are all here,” Em motioned to Gair, Polo, and Sasha amongst the partiers. “And I’m my own one true love. I’ve had to learn how to accept and love myself on this quest, so I think I’ll be okay going solo.”
She internally cringed at how shitty and stereotypically lame her own words sounded.
“I don’t want you to get yourself killed, princess.” Roden’s voice cracked, and he looked away, fiddling with his hands. “I know you don’t reciprocate my affections, but that doesn’t stop my desire to protect the one I love.”
“I appreciate it, Roden, I really do.” Em laid a hand on his shoulder, and he practically melted at her touch. “But I’m not going anywhere tonight. We are celebrating, and we are actively annoying Kriqir. Trust me, I intend to drag this siege out until the time is right.”
Don’t crack, don’t let him see your bitch-ass is lying.
“And Ming’s distraction?” Roden narrowed his eyes.
“Who said I’m using it tonight?”
“Fair enough.” He sighed in defeat.
Somehow, she was able to let out the breath she’d been holding.
Em stood, brushing grass off herself, and yawned dramatically.
Inside, though, her pulse raced, and she prayed to Stephanie that the half-elf couldn’t hear how hard her heart pounded in her chest with anticipation.
Her bladder tightened too, her fight or flight kicking in with the need to pee.
Once she began the final phases of her plot, there was no turning back.
“Where are you going?” Roden asked.
“To bed,” she lied for the countless time that night. “A princess needs her beauty sleep on the dawn of a new chapter.”
He growled something under his breath, but Em had already turned tail.
She wove her way deeper into the siege camp, pushing past dancing bodies, couples making love in the shadowy alleys, drunk barbarians singing on wooden benches, barking dogs, and eventually she stumbled free into the crisp, cool night.
The joyful chaos faded behind her as Em grabbed her sword belt and dark cloak behind an old tree stump, right where Ming promised to drop them off.
“Alright, Stephanie,” she said, checking that Destiny’s Song, Reaver of Diligence, was securely fastened to her waist. Then patted her pocket to ensure Brolzross the Nocturnal’s relic was there. Everything was in place, just as she’d planned.
Em pulled the hood over her head before she disappeared into the shadowy night. “Time to start the climax.”