Attempted Adventuring (The Attempted Vampirism Series Book 2)

by L. G. Estrella

  Roger rolled his eyes and used his paws to sign something at her. Unless Jonathan badly missed his guess, it translated to: and my best friend is a human that thinks using me for bait is the best way to lure out giant monsters.

  Jonathan smiled in genuine delight. It had been some time since he’d been fortunate enough to speak to a raccoon from the empire. He signed a greeting to Roger, hoping his command of raccoon sign language wasn’t too rusty. Roger’s eyes widened before he grinned and signed back a reply.

  “You know raccoon sign language?” Susannah asked.

  “Oh, yes. I’m a scholar, for the most part, and the Raccoon Empire has played a pivotal role in world history. Since raccoons can’t speak without the use of translation charms or other magic, it made sense to learn their sign language. I’ve spoken to several of them before.” He nodded at Roger. “I do hope we can talk more later. I have some questions I’ve been hoping to ask, and I would appreciate the chance to practice my sign language.”

  Roger signed his agreement before slapping away Susannah’s spoon. She’d been about to steal some of his food. The woman smirked unashamedly, and he bared his teeth and snarled.

  “So the duke hired you?” Aria asked. “How did that happen?” She was enhancing her dagger with a few long-lasting Words. It wasn’t her preferred weapon, but if she ever needed to use it, she’d need it to do as much damage as possible.

  Susannah took a moment to reply. She’d helped provide dinner by bringing in half a dozen rabbits. Jonathan hadn’t seen it happen, but Miles had told him she’d thrown small pebbles. It spoke volumes that she could throw a pebble with the speed and accuracy needed to kill a rabbit. She hadn’t missed a single attempt either. “Well, Roger and I have done a lot of monster hunting work.” She patted her bow. It was a fine weapon made in a style different to those favoured by the Blood Alliance. It was more reminiscent of bows from the west, and he was reasonably certain it had either been made by elves or by someone who had copied their methods. “Monsters can get pretty big and tough, but most of them can be beaten if you know how and where to hit them. The duke has a lot of territory, and we’ve handled some real nasties for him before. The pay for this mission is great, and he’s confident there will be monsters for us to kill in Mordrath.”

  Roger rubbed his paws together and cackled.

  “And we do get to keep any other loot we find. If we can get through this mission in one piece, we won’t have to worry about money for a while. Of course, since there’s only the two of us, we need to join a larger group. Not everyone takes Roger seriously, and it’s not like he can just start blasting away to prove himself. His stronger Words are the kind you use to remodel the landscape. Anyone with a brain should realise that someone who can use [Ash Bolt] as easily as he can would be handy to have around, but most people can’t get over the fact he’s a raccoon.”

  “So strength in numbers?” Jonathan asked. “That’s a sentiment I can understand.”

  Aria sat down beside him. Like the others, she was enjoying the rabbit stew. Even Blue Scales was enjoying it. Although he doted on Fluffy, he had no qualms about eating other rabbits. Hopefully, nobody told Fluffy. “Not just numbers, Jonathan. Group composition is important too.”

  “Group composition?”

  “It’s not something that has come up on our missions yet, but it will come up on this one.” Aria picked up a stick and began to draw in the soft dirt in front of them. “There are three basic roles that someone in an adventuring group can fill: melee, ranged, and support. People who specialise in melee combat are tasked with establishing and holding a front line, so those who specialise in ranged combat can attack safely. On a large scale, it’s like using a shield wall or pikemen to protect archers and mages. Those who specialise in support are there to increase the effectiveness and survivability of their allies. Bards and healers are the most common examples. They don’t necessarily do a lot of fighting themselves, but their skills make the fight easier for everyone else.”

  Aria pointed to her drawing. It showed a number of dots surrounding some other dots. “Suppose you’ve got a war wizard in your group. A war wizard is one of the most powerful ranged attackers you can have. Left unchecked, a single war wizard can often do more damage than an entire group of paladins. However, war wizards – and this is doubly true for raccoons – tend to be somewhat fragile. Their magic can protect them, but if someone specialised in melee combat manages to reach them, the results are rarely pleasant.”

  “I can imagine,” Jonathan murmured. Roger might have powerful magic, but it was easy to see how poorly he would fare in hand-to-hand combat.

  “That’s why group composition is so important. If we encountered a group of, say, five hundred goblins, our best strategy would be to have Eileen, Eric, Miles, and Blue Scales form a front line while I used my magic to support and enhance them and you used your magic to identify any leaders, traps, or other important targets. Blue Scales could also use his magic to attack on a large scale, and Eileen could transform into something big enough to really put some fear into them. With Roger and Susannah, things would be much simpler. Susannah could simply pick off any leaders or magic users amongst them, and Roger…”

  “Roger?”

  Aria grinned toothily. “As a war wizard, his job would be very simple. Turn the battlefield into a killing field. [Ash Bolt] alone is already a nightmare. It can affect multiple targets if they’re close enough, and he has to have stronger Words at his disposal too. As long as we keep the goblins away from him, there’s a good chance he could kill more of them than the rest of us combined.”

  Susannah smirked. “Don’t worry. If we ever had to fight five hundred goblins, Roger could just use [Pyroclastic Flow] to get rid of them all at once.”

  “…” Jonathan gaped. “Isn’t a pyroclastic flow the cloud of volcanic ash that is produced when a volcano erupts – the same cloud that rolls down the slopes and obliterates everything in its path?”

  Susannah nodded. “Yep.” Roger cacked evilly and rubbed his paws together again. “It takes a while to set up, but it’s exactly the kind of spell that makes war wizards like him so dangerous. If you can protect him long enough for him to use it, he can wipe out the enemy in one Word.”

  Jonathan nodded thoughtfully. “So it’s about maximising the group’s overall damage output and survivability rather than focusing on individual success?”

  Aria smiled. “Exactly. People aren’t the same. They have different strengths and weaknesses, and being part of a team means maximising people’s strengths and minimising their weaknesses. Against a necromancer, I would take a more active role. Against a fire elemental, you’d ask Blue Scales to lead the way. Asking people to do things they’re not good at is sometimes necessary – the battlefield can be a dangerous and unpredictable place – but the best results generally come from allowing members of a group to make full use of their strengths while minimising their weaknesses. Sure, we could give Roger a dagger and ask him to stab people, but why put him in harm’s way to stab a bandit when we could have him hang back and focus on using magic capable of blasting all of the bandits at once?”

  Pay close attention. The Blood Emperor’s voice was filled with approval. She speaks wisely. I know you’ve already begun lessons on tactics and strategy, but it is important to see things in a practical light as well as a theoretical one. When you go on missions, think about how the theory could be applied and how it would be used in reality.

  “I have been trying to learn about tactics and strategy,” Jonathan admitted. “It seems like a good thing to know when you regularly take missions where men and monsters try to kill you.” He inclined his head at Susannah. “So, Aria, you’d have Susannah act as an assassin of sorts?”

  The ranger answered in place of the former paladin. “It’s the best role for me in that sort of situation. Don’t get me wrong, I can put an arrow through a goblin’s eye at more than two hundred yards without breaking a sweat, but the average
goblin isn’t much of a threat to anyone in this group. What would be dangerous is if they have a leader to coordinate their actions, or if they have ranged attackers of their own, like archers or magic users. My priority would be to eliminate them as quickly as possible before helping you deal with the rest of the horde.” Jonathan gaped at her casual mention of her accuracy, and she continued, “Although I do have exploding arrows and the like, which I can use to help thin their numbers at a distance too.”

  Jonathan rubbed his chin. He’d forgotten to shave before leaving Bloodmark. He’d have to see if he could do it before they left Ash Harbour. He doubted the horrors of Mordrath would care, but it couldn’t hurt to keep a neat and tidy appearance. “It sounds like you and Roger would fit into our group well.”

  Susannah scratched the back of her head. “It’s part of why I asked. You seem like decent people, and you looked as though you were missing some ranged specialists. You’re also taking Roger seriously, which is a good thing. He might not look intimidating, but being small doesn’t stop him from having powerful magic.” Jonathan would never say it, but Roger did look vaguely ridiculous in his brightly coloured robes and conical wizard’s hat. “Roger the Relentless was the same size as him, and even dragon’s respected his magic.”

  “It works both ways,” Aria said. “If you and Roger can fit in with our group, then we’ll have an easier time of it too.” She and Susannah seemed to be having their own, wordless conversation beneath the spoken one. Jonathan would have to trust that Aria knew what she was doing. As the leader of the group, she’d yet to steer them wrong. “And on a mission like this, I want every advantage I can get.”

  “Likewise.” Susannah ate another spoonful of stew. “A huge reward is nice, but it doesn’t mean much if you’re dead.”

  “Agreed.” Jonathan’s closest brushes with death had come in Baron Darkletter’s manor and against the ancient draco-hydra. However, he had a feeling he’d be adding to those in Mordrath.

  The rest of the night passed swiftly although he noticed that Aria always had at least two of them on watch at all times, and some of Eileen’s summons were always present. The group was extending trust to Roger and Susannah, but they weren’t naïve enough to trust them completely. It was only common sense. The rest of the trip to Ash Harbour passed uneventfully, and they arrived at the walls of the city the following night. It didn’t take long for Jonathan to wish they’d kept their distance.

  The first thing he noticed was the smell. It wasn’t the strongest scent. A human might have struggled to put a finger on it, but vampires had keen senses. It permeated the area, and if he had to describe it, he’d say it was vaguely unpleasant – enough to annoy him without truly grabbing his attention. It reminded him of death and decay. However, he was sure he’d get used to it soon enough, which was depressing in its own way.

  It is the Bone Sea. The Blood Emperor wore a disgusted expression in his mind. The chronicles never mention it, but the smell of it is both unusual and unpleasant. Whatever dark fate befell the dwarves, the water that poured forth from Mordrath and flooded the Empty Sea was foul and corrupted. That same water – or some mixture of it and normal seawater – laps against these shores. I would advise against eating anything caught in these waters. The fish can be… odd, and there have long been rumours of illness falling upon anyone who eats them too often.

  Jonathan nodded stiffly and made a mental note to warn the others. There would be enough dangers on this mission without adding food poisoning to the list. His attention shifted to the large wall that surrounded the city. It was grey, lumpy, and seemingly a single solid mass of melted stone.

  “I remember a text that mentioned this wall,” Jonathan whispered. “I believe it was made by pouring sand from the beaches into frames before using powerful fire magic to melt it all into stone. It’s proven to be quite durable over the years despite its lack of beauty.”

  “I think you mean it’s ugly – damn ugly.” Eric shook his head. “It looks more like someone vomited it up, if you ask me.”

  Jonathan winced. That was an awful way to put it although he wasn’t wrong. Beyond the wall, Jonathan could make out the tops of the city’s taller buildings. Everything he could see apart from the wall had been built using a solid, blocky style. It was wholly unlike the grander, more gothic architecture favoured by most of the Blood Alliance. Then again, this place was basically considered cursed, and it had been run by vampires that were, at best, considered upstarts and criminals by their more noble peers. He doubted fine architecture had been one of their considerations during its foundation and development.

  They made their way to the gates and were met by a cadre of disgruntled guards. If it was like most places, the scruffy men were severely underpaid and chronically overworked. They looked as though they wanted to make trouble – extortion was likely how they made ends meet – but Miles cut them off before they could get so much as a word out.

  “You have the great honour of addressing Lord Bloodhaven.” Miles’s voice brooked no disobedience, and he carried himself with regal authority.

  The guards looked sceptical at first – Jonathan hardly radiated the kind of majesty some nobles did – but the group had spent a considerable sum of money on clothes that would allow Jonathan to look the part of a vampire noble. He had despaired at the expense, but Aria had persisted. If he was to act as their ‘sponsor’, then he needed to look the part. It was simply another cost of doing business, like getting armour made or having equipment repaired. Naturally, he would wear more practical clothing on missions, but appearances were important. His clothes might not have been as fine as those worn by a baron or a duke, but they were still several steps above those of a regular vampire, never mind some guards in a dilapidated city.

  Jonathan took a deep breath and tried to draw on some of the presence and authority the Blood Emperor radiated without any effort despite being only a shard of himself. “I am here at the behest of Duke Bloodfang,” he pronounced, putting as much steel into his voice as he could. “It would be unwise to interfere with my – or the duke’s – business.” He must have succeeded because the guards blanched and took a wary step back. It was clear they believed him, yet there was still a worrying look in their eyes.

  Give them something. The Blood Emperor chuckled dryly. They aren’t nobles, but they have their pride all the same. Allow them to save face, and they’ll let you pass without trouble. Better still, as a vampire noble, you are expected to dole out gifts and bribes with ease, but they cannot ask you. You must be the one to offer them. Be generous, and they will be in your pocket. In a place like this, it can’t hurt to have the city guard on your side.

  Jonathan agreed. Corruption was unpleasant, but he could use it to his advantage if he acted carefully. He took out the parchment the duke had given him, and the guards cringed even more. The full extent of their mistake was now clear. However, he allowed his stern expression to give way to a smile. “A city needs good, dutiful men – men who would question even a noble to ensure the safety of their city.” He took a handful of coins from a pouch. It was hardly a princely sum, but it should do. “Such attention to duty should be rewarded, and a slight can be forgiven if it was made for the sake of duty, don’t you agree?”

  The men’s eyes widened. They must have expected a rebuke or worse, but their leader quickly recovered and scuttled forward to accept the coins. He nodded with disturbing eagerness. “Aye, my lord, it is as you say! We did not recognise you at first – forgive us – but it will not happen again! Truly, you are a noble of high standing!” He lowered his voice. “And if you ever have need of the city guard, ask for Old Creston or Red Mason. We’ll handle any… problems that might arise.”

  Jonathan grimaced and forced himself to pat the man’s shoulder as he slipped him another coin. “As I said, dutiful men should be rewarded – and discrete men too.” He breathed a sigh of relief as the guards waved them through. The Blood Emperor’s laughter rang in his ears.


  Perhaps you should have been an actor instead of a scholar.

  Jonathan would have preferred to avoid acting. It was desperation not skill that had allowed him to succeed. Even now, his knees were shaking.

  “You handled that well,” Aria murmured as they continued down the street.

  “Thank you. A friend once suggested something similar.” Jonathan hadn’t told Roger or Susannah about the Blood Emperor, and he wouldn’t without the approval of the others. However, Aria should guess his meaning easily enough.

  “I see.” Her eyes twinkled. “Well, your friend must have more experience than any of us.” She studied the street around them with distaste. Like the rest of the city, there was an air of decay and decrepitude about it. Any exposed stone was badly worn, and most of the wood was rotting. And behind it all, like a loathsome shroud, was that strange, unsettling smell. “We should get some rest. We’re supposed to leave at dawn the day after tomorrow, and I’d rather we not enter Mordrath tired.”

  “Just make sure they don’t drop my crate,” Jonathan said. “At least not until I’m safely below decks.”

  * * *

  Eric was familiar with the concept of posturing. It was actually an integral part of being a werewolf. For werewolves, the two most important qualities were fighting prowess and cunning. The ability to put up a threatening front required both. Of course, there were rules. Werewolves weren’t mindless beasts, regardless of what some of their foes believed. The single greatest achievement of Alaric the Great Silver’s reign so far had been to codify those rules and enforce them across almost the entirety of werewolf society. His actions had prevented the bloody internecine strife and pointless squabbling that had hobbled vampires for centuries. It helped that his reforms were backed by his overwhelming power.

  The Blood Emperor’s loss had struck the legendary werewolf hard. Such worthy foes were hard to come by, and he had only hastened his reforms in response to his rival’s unfortunate demise. Oh, not all of the clans had liked the changes, but he’d dealt with their objections in his typical fashion: three chances. After the third chance, he slaughtered and then ate the troublemakers. He’d only needed to deal with two such clans before the rest had fallen into line. Alaric might not be the most cunning werewolf – and he was still far more cunning than his reputation suggested – but he was, by far, the most powerful werewolf who’d ever lived. Fighting him was akin to fighting a force of nature like a hurricane or an earthquake. Eric, for all his skills, would have been better off trying to fight a volcano.