Vitality 2 of 6.
Here I go, stunned.
But no, his Toughness was three now.
He was almost on the bed of spikes with the remains of Millicent’s avatar, still skewered through the shin bones. He couldn’t jump it while carrying his sword, couldn’t pause to go round to make himself a target.
Without breaking stride, he whipped Peacebringer back and around, hurled the sword ahead of himself and leapt.
Current Form 5.
Performing Scout at level 7.
Result = 7 (Performance) +0 (Luck) -2 (“Medium armour”) -4 (Difficulty) = 1
Effect = Success
He crashed into the ladder, immediately snatched his hand back.
Peacebringer’s hilt smacked into his hand.
Peacebringer (Undroppable).
Another whoosh of power.
Enemy Targeting = 5 (Challenge) +2 (No room to dodge) -1 (Luck) -2 (Throwing Range) = 4. On Target.
Using Sword Feat, Shear Magic, cost 1 Potestas. 10 of 12 Potestas remaining.
Shear Magic shifts magical defence to Warrior Performance.
Result = 13 (Challenge) + 0 (Luck) -9 (Your Performance) = 3
Effect = “Staggered” (2)
An invisible hand shoved him into the ladder.
And Zahna was singing.
Rock crashed.
Torstag pressed himself against the ladder, tensed in anticipation of the tonnes of stone swatting him onto the spikes then crushing him into them.
Nothing.
Torstag twisted to look back.
“The tunnel happened to collapse,” said Zahna above him.
“Impressive,” said Miss Millicent.
“Just a Nudge,” said Zahna. “Good for things that are already likely.”
“Oh,” said Miss Millicent. “I can feel her winding up to shift the rubble.”
“Come on Torstag,” said Ingar, “give me your sword and let’s get you the fuck out of there.”
Chapter 51: Unrepentant!
Outside, warm rain poured through the jungle canopy. Millicent exhaled and felt strangely clean.
They were all slumped against the bowl of a tree, all except for the big warrior who was removing his armour.
As she wiped her glasses, Millicent tried to work out whether she now felt relieved or exhilarated. Who am I?
You are Millicent, Human Warlock, Middle Aged, Outgoing, Forceful, Hedonistic, Self Hating.
Guilt at Using People 2/6 Hardening.
Potestas 2 of 6. Will 3.
Millicent shuddered. The Ice Queen had simply scooped off a handful of her Potestas.
Vitality 5.
Goeticist 0 (Power Words): Manifest 3/6.
Virago 4: Maelstrom +1, Amorous Impunity, Tsunami +1, Icestorm, Commanding Presence +1, Quell +1, Eye of the Tornado, Sweep Along, Brush Aside 2/6.
Scholar 4 (Learned): Erudition, Research, Debate, Locate, Conservation, Restoration, Source Criticism, Read Old Imperial, Read Gorlakian Runes, Read Squamafian, Identify Art, Identify Architecture.
Skills include: Hiker (Learned) 3, Throwing (Learned) 4…
Millicent listened while it prattled through the meagre sum of her life to date. Apparently, she was good at “Cataloguing”: who would have thought? There were even half-forgotten accomplishments like “Cross Stitch” that took her back to stuffy beige classrooms while the sun beckoned through too-high windows.
At length she could bear it no longer. “What was that thing? I mean, if I’m me then who is she?”
“A lich,” said Zahna.
“Oh well that explains it all.” Millicent dug out her flask, took a gulp and passed it to Ingar.
“Bloody shambles,” said Torstag, hanging his sword on the tree. He shook his head at Ingar, who passed the flask to the girl.
Warlord, commented her voice.
Interesting. That was new.
And interesting that her Voice was useful now she was listening to it. No more little pills for her, ever.
“Yes, it was rather a shambles,” said Millicent, deciding to see where this development would lead.
Zahna shook her head. “We succeeded.” She swigged the liquor. “Good stuff.” She brought out a wooden box.
Form 2.
Performing Scholar at Level 4.
Millicent polished her glasses then read out the Gorlakian script: “Remember that I Rasinta, Queen/Empress/Chief of the Icelands…Oh she’s not really an actual ‘Ice’ Queen…repelled the Flying Tooth Garden.” She sat back. “What a preposterous name.”
“What’s in the box?” asked Ingar.
Zahna slipped the hook-catch and flipped back the lid.
It was full of beans.
“What the fuck?” said Ingar. “All those jewels and you managed to grab some magic beans? “
“Feel free to go back and loot the place,” said Torstag. He draped his scaled armour over a handy branch and balanced his helmet on it.
“Fuck you!” said Ingar.
Zahna dipped a hand in her satchel and produced a handful of silver necklaces. “That won’t be necessary.”
Performing Virago at Level 6.
“Excuse me!” said Millicent. “That’s my tomb. My jewels.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” said Zahna. “You get a share, that’s all.”
Millicent rounded on her. “Did you not promise you would clean out my tarpit tomb’?”
Zahna shook her head. “It’s not a tarpit tomb. It’s a lich’s bower.”
“I thought you were on a quest to defeat evil?”
“An evil warlock,” said Torstag. “So we can be free.” He glanced at Zahna. “Once we’ve done that, we could come back.”
“Sure,” said Zahna. “If we can level up enough to beat Gronchard, it will be trivial to finish off here.”
“Finish off her, you mean?” said Millicent. “Which takes me back to my question; if I’m me, who’s she?”
“A lich,” said Zahna.
Millicent didn’t bother to hide her irritation. “A little expansion, if you please.”
Zahna grinned, acknowledging she’d been caught out being deliberately obtuse. “The Ice Queen was one of your previous avatars. Her shade now inhabits the preserved corpse.”
“Shade?” Millicent thought back through all the folklore she knew. “So even though I’m me, there are ghosts of my past selves?”
“Ghosts are just a particular kind of shade,” said Torstag.
“But…but, I’m here right now. How can I have a shade knocking around?”
“Ah,” said Torstag. “You are your soul and the body it inhabits. Between you, you develop a shade. It’s…”
“A persona,” said Zahna.
“Yes,” said Torstag. “When you die, your soul reincarnates, but your shade remains, fading over the centuries…unless it ends up animating its own remains. Which, um, takes magic.”
Necromancer.
So we all know how that can happen. Millicent caught his eye and he looked away. “So the lich is like a zombie?” she prompted. “Brrr.”
“No, much more self aware than that,” said Zahna. “More like a vampire that feeds on shades. Hence the sacrifices.”
“What would have happened if…?”
“If she’d eaten your actual soul,” said Zahna, “then she would come not-life…for a while. When you ran out, it would be back to the tomb to wait for the next avatar.”
Millicent shuddered despite the heat. “What about the past me’s? Why didn’t she feed on them?”
“I think she needed to eat them in that chamber where we fought,” said Torstag. “None of you got that far. She’d have gotten a surge each time one died.”
“So, that’s why the bones were all duds!” said Ingar.
Millicent held up a hand to cut off any more technical discussion. “I never liked myself very much,” she said, “and the more I learn, the less there is to like.”
“Oh, that’s just the sympathetic magic at
work,” said Zahna. “Stuff like that is going to echo in your psyche.”
“What?” A stone seemed to settle in Millicent’s belly. It was hard to breathe. “But…years of psychoanalysis…” She had to get some air. She heaved herself to her feet. “You mean I don’t like myself because it so happens that, incarnation after incarnation, I’ve been literally eating myself and not in a good way.”
“Yes,” said Zahna. “Welcome to being a warlock.”
“That’s fucked up,” said Ingar.
“But…” Millicent got up and walked out into the rain.
The vegetation rustled behind her.
Torstag called out, “Leave her be.”
Ingar replied from much closer. “Oh shut up.”
Millicent didn’t stop to let the boy catch up. She marched onwards through the sodden vegetation while her mind raced in circles. It was because she disliked herself that she didn’t really expect anybody to like her so just got what she wanted by being unlikable, which was why she didn’t like herself…
“Millicent,” called Ingar. “Slow down.”
Her blouse was soaked so she tore it off. Now warm rain splashed her shoulders, ran down her chin and dripped into the front into her corset.
She tugged the laces open, let the damaged corset drop behind her.
She inhaled deeply. “I never really realised how restrictive that thing was.”
The heavy skirt was next. The girl’s magic still seemed to be keeping the insects off and the silk chemise was more than enough in the oppressive heat.
She didn’t trust the magic to protect her from the twigs and briars of the jungle floor, so the boots and woollen stockings stayed.
Thunder crashed. Not so far away, a tree exploded in a sheet of white flame.
“Millicent,” called Ingar.
Now she did stop and turn.
Naif. Youth.
Form 2. You are performing Virago at level 6.
Why not?
Using Feat Maelstrom +1, cost 1 Potestas. 2 of Potestas remaining.
“Whoa,” said Ingar. He slowed down, but did not stop advancing. “You’re using some kind of magic.”
“Maelstrom,” said Millicent. “A great whirlpool, with me at the centre.” The silk chemise was wet now, so off that went.
Ingar’s blue eyes widened. He didn’t seem to know where to feast his eyes. “I can feel its pull.”
“And just where are you feeling it?” asked Millicent.
He halted just short of her, his red hair plastered to his head, his breech clout wilted against his youthful body. “Nowhere I’d name to a lady.”
She kissed him lightly on the lips. “You’ll have to show me then,” she said. She tugged at the wet fabric. He was young, but his legs were muscular rather than skinny. Overall, she rated him ‘not unpleasing’.
“Wait, you’re much older than me,” said Ingar.
“Meaning you can sow your wild oats without fear of romantic entanglement,” said Millicent. “Isn’t that what young men want?”
“And you’re using magic on me,” he said.
She untied the strip of linen protecting his modesty and let it fall. “Don’t all women, in a way?”
He made no effort to cover himself. “Good point,” he said.
“So it seems,” she said.
You are Millicent, Human Warlock, Middle Aged, Outgoing, Forceful, Hedonistic…Unrepentant.
Chapter 52: The Marshal and the Queen
The rain hissed on the lush green canopy and Torstag found himself looking into Zahna’s twinkling eyes. He wanted to touch her…to hold her…but it felt as if they had all the time in the world.
Unlock Warlord, Formal Courtship?
Hah no, I am not wasting that slot. Perhaps if he moved just a little closer…?
A bellowing cry penetrated the rain-sodden jungle.
Torstag started to rise. “What in the Thirteen Hells was that? Some kind of carnivorous moose? They’re in trouble!”
Zahna pulled him back. “No, really they’re not. That’s Miss Millicent.”
“But.” Torstag felt himself flush. “Oh.”
The cry trailed off into a whimper then repeated, louder.
Torstag glanced at Zahna, but she wasn’t looking his way.
Lighting flashed. Thunder rumbled hard on its heels.
“The storm’s passing over,” he said.
Millicent cried out again, triumph and pleasure mingled.
“Not for our lost librarian,” said Zahna.
“Um,” said Torstag. “What do we do with the beans?”
“We?” said Zahna,
“I don’t know whether it’s destiny or choice,” said Torstag. “Plus Ingar was right about Gronchard…he is a creepy fucker…”
“A wise man once said, ‘Some people need killing’.”
“I…” began Torstag.
More cries from Miss Millicent.
It was Zahna’s turn to look away.
“I was the Marshal,” said Torstag. “And you were my queen.”
“I was Zenobia of Yinkesia, yes,” she said.
“I nearly sacrificed myself to save you from the lich.”
“I tried to share the risk,” she said. “But you insisted.”
“You didn’t argue very hard,” he said.
Zahna shrugged. “You heard Gronchard. A thousand rebirths, a thousand painful growths into womanhood, each rewarded by being taken and flayed back to Princess bloody Angelica.”
“This is the first time you’ve broken the cycle,” said Torstag.
Zahna nodded and he could not tell whether it was rain or tears that ran down her cheeks. “One avatar managed to die where he could not retrieve her body for his mausoleum. The next was Queen Zenobia. She repelled Gronchard’s legions, the Marshal slew Gronchard before he died.”
“But Gronchard didn’t stay dead.”
“His priests found his next avatar and flayed the child to reveal the soul of their Living God. So no, I didn’t argue with you very hard.”
“It seems…” began Torstag, not sure whether to be annoyed or amused. “It seems that you are going to use me, because you have to.”
“Yes.”
“Not even a ‘sorry’?”
Zahna let out a curt laugh. “Would that make a difference?
“Do either of us have a choice?” he asked.
She said nothing, so he kissed her
Chapter 53: To the Rescue!
“Ahem, Divinity,” said the young Saint Prescience. His angel flapped nervously, as well it might.
“Yes,” said Gronchard, flushing. He picked himself up from the cold floor of the Temple of Incarnation.
He shivered. How long had he been lying there? Snow was pouring down the Great Well. A blizzard would be bad for the shrubs. Why had nobody moved him?
Gronchard opened his mouth to order everybody executed.
Saint Prescience coughed. “If I may, Divinity, You are indeed never wrong, Divinity. The tomb contains a portal leading out of the Winter Lands. Perhaps the Sacred Angelica’s vessel is to be found at the other end?”
“Yes!” cried Gronchard. “My intuition is never wrong, just misinterpreted on occasion.” He raised his voice. “Follow that portal. We’re going to rescue my Angelica!”
About the Author
A self-described “Howling Medievalist”, M Harold Page believes in “write what you know”, hence the sword scar, the study with rather more than the average number of grimoires and edged weapons, and the battered set of plate armour in the loft crated up for the next generation to grow into (his teenage daughter is somewhat scary).
Martin—that’s the “M”—is old enough to have grown up playing AD&D, Runequest, and first edition Traveller, and young enough to study and teach Historical European Martial Arts with the Dawn Duellists Society, of Edinburgh, one of the world’s first HEMA clubs.
He specialises in German Longsword, partly because it’s a rich and satisfying system,
but mostly because its technical terms are frankly just more Metal than those of the Italian system, e.g. Zornhau versus Fendente… which sounds more dangerous? He’s spent a lot of his life exploring ruined castles and tramping old battlefields. He once tried to get down the sixteenth century mine and countermine at St Andrews Castle while wearing full plate armour.
Level Up publishing specialises in LitRPG and GameLit books. If you have enjoyed The Jungle Tomb of the Ice Queen you might be interested in our other titles, which can be found at www.levelup.pub/books
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The Jungle Tomb of the Ice Queen (The Flying Tooth Garden Book 1) Page 30
