Eat, Slay, Love: A LitRPG/GameLit Adventure (The Good Guys Book 10)

by Eric Ugland

  “Fiends’ Night,” he said.

  “Right,” Lee said. “Why exactly, did we need to come back?”

  “It’s not exactly a holiday,” I said. “More like Halloween, except demonic things actually do walk around and make mischief.”

  “It is more than mischief,” Nikolai said. “Fiends have access to this plane of existence for this one chunk of time, and they use that time to acquire souls.”

  “Ah,” Lee said. “And I take it there are certain rules they abide by? Something to do with homes?”

  “They cannot enter a home without being invited. So we must make this a home in order to keep from fighting fiends all night long.”

  “If one gets in, can they all get in?” I asked.

  “Yes and no. If one gets in, it is possible for the fiend to then invite other fiends. So it can be an ever-increasing problem if one gains entrance.”

  “And this happens every year?”

  Nikolai nodded.

  “Seems like a giant pain in the ass to happen every year.”

  “From an outside perspective, it certainly is. But it is an annual event, and I suppose we have just become used to it.”

  “Used to demons walking the lands—”

  “Not exactly demons. Fiends.”

  “Right. Forgot.”

  “For most, it is a holiday. A time to be close to family. “

  “I could see that,” Lee said. “There’s a certain nicety to it.”

  “Right,” Nikolai said. “But as with everything, a large group creates additional issues. Disparate cultures create additional problems we must address, and that is why we have more to do. Now—”

  “Where is Fritz going to go?” I asked.

  “Fritz?” Nikolai replied, genuinely confused. “Why, I presume a roc goes wherever it damn well pleases.”

  “For Fiends’ Night.”

  “I doubt any fiends will tangle with a roc. And I doubt any fiends will think a roc to be a target anyhow. Is Fritz, rather— does he have a soul?”

  “This whole soul business is confusing as hell to me.”

  “Yes, well, the short answer is that Fritz can go whither he wants—”

  “I think he should be somewhere inside.”

  “And where exactly should a bird that size go?”

  “Can we make a space for him?”

  “I daresay it is possible, though we are already close to the limits of what we can do in time. And we cannot have an errant opening that renders MountainHome not a home. That would be disastrous.”

  “The rolegurdaüdi,” Lee said. “What about them?”

  Nikolai leaned back in his chair, pushing hard against the desk.

  “Must we bring the cows in as well?” he asked. “The sheep?”

  “The cows and the sheep already are inside,” I said.

  “You know what I meant--“

  “It’s not an equivalency,” Lee said. “Cows and sheep don’t communicate. The rolegurdaüdi are not just beasts. They—”

  “I suppose it is slightly more reasonable to bring them inside than Fritz,” Nikolai said, musing. “They will, at least, probably be able to fit through our main doors. Or, if not, through the freight doors.”

  Nikolai pulled open a narrow drawer and grabbed a roll of paper out. He went to spread it on his desk, and realized the problem: no room. Instead, he spread it out against a wall.

  “Your grace, if you would be so kind as to hold this,” he said, gesturing at the drawing with his nose.

  I walked over and held the drawing for him. He was looking at the plans for MountainHome.

  He traced a few hallways with his fingers, muttering to himself.

  “The rolegurdaüdi could fit in many spaces on the first level, likely into the farms,” he said, though it wasn’t clear if he was speaking to us or himself. “Of course, then, how do we keep them from just gorging themselves on the crops? Feeding them could be very difficult.”

  “They seemed to fend for themselves quite well at the lake,” Lee offered. “I think they’re only coming back here because we all left. They seem to think they’re part of Coggeshall—”

  “They are part of Coggeshall,” I interjected.

  “Right. I’m trying to say that I don’t think they’ll be staying here long term is all. Once the crews head back to finish the wall and the fort, and once the fort is staffed, they’ll probably go back there.”

  Nikolai nodded and then sat down. I stood there with the map a moment longer before I realized Nikolai was done with it. I rolled the map up and handed it to an anxiously waiting prinky. The little guy calmed down as soon as he had a job to do, as if taking the map, returning it to the drawer and closing the drawer was completing his life’s work. Nikolai stared at the prinky, not realizing it was there.

  “Gah,” he said, almost jumping out of his chair. He turned and glared at me. “No more pebbles.”

  I held both hands up, innocent.

  “Are there any others we should expect to join us inside MountainHome?” Nikolai asked. “New friends you’re bringing home, perhaps, your grace?”

  “The Brownies,” I said. “I think they’re planning on spending that night with us.”

  Nikolai’s eyebrows went up. “A spot of good news.”

  “That’s good news?”

  “Brownies are no fans of fiends. They will likely be strident defenders of MountainHome. And might also provide more of a distraction for those who find being stuck inside for thirty-six hours difficult.”

  “Why are you looking at me?” I asked Nikolai before I noticed Lee was also staring.

  “You are exactly the type to think he can go toe-to-toe with a fiend and decide to take a walk—” Nikolai started.

  “You mentioned bounty hunters—”

  Nikolai shook his head. “No.”

  “No what?”

  “Do not seek to collect bounties.”

  “On who?”

  “Fiends.”

  “Someone put bounties on them?”

  “Yes. Celestials put bounties on fiends. And considering it is much easier to stalk and kill a fiend when it is on this plane, there are some who seek their fortunes on Fiends’ Night. But those fools are rarely considered good people — most often they are nearly as bad as the fiends, more than willing to put others at risk just to snare their bounty.”

  “But why—”

  “Your grace,” Nikolai said, “the coming winter is long. I daresay we will have ample chance to speak about a grand number of things then, when there are not a million things to do. Right now is not one of those moments, as we have less than two days to accomplish everything we’ve already started. You need to talk to Eliza Northwoods and make sure she understands the truth of the situation.”

  “She does—”

  “The full truth,” Nikolai snapped. “She was in Osterstadt — she deserves to know the complete picture. “

  “Um, okay, but—”

  “And Lee, you have several projects you are involved in, yes?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you have any more questions on Fiends’ Night?”

  “Not as of yet.”

  “Then please see if you might assist Harmut with the ballroom. And, if you don’t mind, perhaps see if you might explain the coming event to Darius. I believe everyone else will understand the seriousness of the night...”

  Lee nodded, then got to his feet.

  Nikolai didn’t wait for us to leave before he dug back into the stacks of paper on his desk.

  8

  After the meeting, I had to go outside. It was too stuffy inside. Which, sure, bode somewhat poorly considering how long I’d have to spend inside coming up. But there was a chance the stuffiness was because of the council meeting and all that Nikolai time.

  Outside, snow was still falling, though not as heavily. Now it was more gentle, like the god of snow was dancing around the landscape. Men and women in legion armor were out in force with shovels, cleari
ng all our various pathways, as well as the walls and stairways. Other legion members followed with buckets of sand and salt, ensuring the stairs and walls would remain clear throughout the storm.

  Not wanting to get in the way, I veered off the walkway, trudging into the snow, which was easily past two feet. I made it about ten yards before I heard snow crunching behind me.

  I stopped, but didn’t turn around.

  “Your grace,” a woman’s voice said.

  Bah. I had to turn around.

  A young woman in the Northwoods colors and trim curtsied.

  “My lady requests your presence for a morning tea,” she said through chattering teeth. She was not at all dressed for the cold. Her dress dragged in the snow and was soaked almost up to her waist.

  “Of course,” I said. “Though might I request carrying you back inside to the warmth?”

  “Your grace?” she asked, confused.

  “Like this,” I said, and picked up her with one arm, letting her perch on my shoulder.

  She giggled, but nodded.

  I held her in place, and we went back to MountainHome.

  Once inside, she directed me to Eliza’s chambers.

  MountainHome felt like a giant maze at this point. One thing I was determined to do over this Fiends’ Night nonsense was get to know the layout of the place. Intricately, so I didn’t need help getting anywhere, and I never got lost. Which wasn’t exactly a thing that could happen indoors to me, — once I went somewhere, I knew the way, thanks to my Labyrinthine Recall ability — but you know, I needed to actually know the place.

  You have been offered a quest:

  Get to know MountainHome

  Get a good map of your home in your head.

  Reward for success: Know where you are.

  Penalty for failure (or refusal): none

  Yes/No

  Fantastic! Another silly quest. Which reminded me: I had made no progress on finding out who cleaned up in Coggeshall.

  Eliza lived up several levels, near-ish to where my own quarters were, at least in height. Her chambers, however, were more to the west than my own.

  My escort, a lady-in-waiting named Anna Ellingham, went in first while I waited outside.

  It gave me a moment to look at myself. I still had on my armor, more set for guarding than for tea. It wasn’t a full-plate harness, just some chain over a thin gambeson and under a Coggeshall tabard. I had a sword on one hip and a knapsack on the other. Mud and snow caked my boots. I was really killing it on that whole ‘look-like-a-duke’ thing.

  The door opened and Priscilla, a lady-in-waiting who was clearly also a guard, stood there. No smile. She looked me up and down, and frowned a little.

  “Your grace,” she said, with that perfect tone implying that I was not worth the title, “my lady will see you now.”

  “Thank you,” I said, giving her a slight bow of the head.

  I walked inside and saw that it was basically a tea party. Even though I made sure there was a big smile on my face, I felt like they had arranged everything to make me feel as awkward as possible.

  First, the table was almost comically small, with chairs that were surely meant for children. In fact, there were two actual children at the table with Eliza, two young girls who wore the dark blue of Glaton, and had their hair up in intricate braids.

  Eliza looked up at me and beamed.

  “Your grace,” she said, standing up out of a chair that was too small even for her. “It honors us you were able to clear some time out of your schedule to visit us.”

  “Ah, I,” I stammered, “of course.”

  “Have a seat?”

  I looked at the seat, and said a quick prayer to all the gods on my side that it would hold.

  Of course, given Mister Paul’s sense of humor...

  I sat down in the tiny chair, and heard the strain my bulk put on the wood.

  My knees went out to the side and rested above the table.

  “Gloves off at the table, please,” Eliza said.

  I pulled my heavy leather gloves off and set them to the side, where Priscilla quickly snatched them.

  My sword was digging into my stomach at a strange angle, and I had to take a moment to rearrange things to get it to not stick into me or the table.

  “Sheesh,” I said, making a face at the little girls.

  They giggled a little, then looked over at Eliza and sat up straight.

  “Duke Coggeshall,” Eliza said, fully serious, “may I present Lady Nerissa Rosewall and Lady Emma Wraight.”

  Both little girls hopped up from their seats and did a curtsy.

  I swallowed a sigh, and got to my feet and gave them a bow.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Rosewall and Lady Wraight,” I said.

  The girls giggled as I went through the total nonsense of sitting down again, despite getting stern looks from Eliza, whom I could tell was enjoying this remarkably.

  “Tea?” Eliza asked.

  The girls nodded enthusiastically, so I did the same.

  Eliza gave me a look. She was doing a lot of look-giving.

  “Yes, please,” I said.

  Eliza nodded, as if that was the preferred response to the question.

  Anna Ellingham, the lady-in-waiting, came over with a teapot. She poured tea into cups so tiny that I couldn’t even fit my pinky in the handle.

  Someone delivered very dainty cakes and set them in the middle of the table. Each cake was about the size of a quarter, and maybe half an inch tall. Each was frosted in a bright color, and there was an impressive variety of shades.

  I reached for one, but Eliza’s hand snapped out and smacked mine.

  “Young ladies first, your grace,” she said.

  The girls’ eyes went wide, as if they couldn’t believe Eliza had hit me.

  I winked at them and pushed the plate a little closer.

  The girls hesitated, one looking to the other before digging in.

  “These ladies were recently in Osterstadt,” Eliza said. “And they mentioned how much they would like to thank you for saving them.”

  “I, uh—” I started, but somehow, magically it seemed, Eliza stomped on my foot. I didn’t even see her leg move.

  I gritted my teeth.

  “Lady Rosewall?” Eliza said.

  “Um,” the little girl said, pushing an errant ringlet back into her updo. “Thank you for saving me, your grace.”

  “You are most welcome,” I said.

  “Thank you for saving me,” Lady Wraight said, spraying cake crumbs all across the table.

  “You are most welcome as well,” I said.

  Eliza gave me the slightest of nods, then mouthed, “thank you” to me.

  I smiled at her.

  “Would you like a cake?” the little Lady Rosewall asked before adding, “your grace,” after a glare from Eliza.

  “I would love one,” I said, delicately taking one tiny cake and popping it into my mouth. I managed to keep a straight face as I ate the thing, which was so unbelievably sweet I felt like my teeth were actively decaying while I chewed.

  Thank the gods I had the tea, even if it was only about one sip. So, you know, one tooth saved.

  “More tea?” Eliza asked.

  9

  I handled my first tea party quite well, if I do say so myself. I laughed at the little jokes; I did my best to make little jokes, and I purposefully fell off my chair twice, to the extreme delight of the little girls.

  Finally, once the girls were stuffed with cake and we had gone through the entire teapot, the little ones were taken to another room, and I got to stand up and stretch.

  Eliza waited for the door to shut before turning back to me.

  “Thank you, your grace,” she said.

  “Not sure what it was I did, but you’re welcome,” I replied with a smile.

  “Those two are the heads of their houses now,” Eliza said, a sad look coming across her eyes. “They lost their parents in Osterstadt.”


  “Well shit,” I said.

  “It is not your fault, Duke Coggeshall.”

  “Still feels, I mean—”

  “Painful.”

  “Yes.”

  “I know you are probably already feeling rage and thinking of violence. Right?”

  “Maybe,” I lied. I was. I wanted to go throttle Bottes, see the look on his face when there weren’t a thousand mercenaries around to protect him.

  “It is not the time nor the place for that,” she said. “They need you here. There are many who need to see you here. To be a calm and kind leader. They have seen the horror of the mob, and there is genuine fear running through these noble families. Whatever you may think of them, know that they are nearly all looking to you.”

  “I am here.”

  “And you need to act like a duke to them.”

  “More tea parties?”

  She smiled, and crossed the room to stand near one of her windows. She was a lucky one to have windows.

  “Perhaps,” she said. “Nerissa and Emma are hardly the only orphans made that night. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from you when I asked you to come. I thought, perhaps, you might not know how to act around children, but, I mean—”

  “I’m basically a child myself?”

  “I did not mean to imply that—”

  “You didn’t. I get it.”

  “I do not think that, just--“

  “How private is this place?” I asked.

  “This room?” she looked around, eyes wide. “What exactly do you intend to do with me here?”

  “Definitely not what you’re imagining right now.”

  She blushed. “I would never—”

  “Sure,” I said, pretending I didn’t see how red her cheeks were. “I need to talk to you about Osterstadt.”

  She flicked a fan open and fanned her face.

  “A moment,” she said.

  She left the room.

  I walked over to the windows and peered out.

  She had a pleasant view. Lots of snow and trees. Interestingly, her rooms were past the walls, so I was actually looking down into the area we’d cleared in front of the walls. Leaning against the windows and looking to the west, I could see the snow-covered trees getting taller and thicker. Luckily, I couldn’t see anything moving about.