#glacial pace

Whatcha wanna know? Cuz there’s a lot lmao.

Hmmm..how about something relating to a future chapter.

As a treat?

You think Chase was bad with the jealousy? just wait until Micha thinks someone’s tryna steal his man lmao.

(This is part 5)

(Here is part 4. Links to the previous parts there)

It always takes a while for the soulbind to kick in. A lost weapon, or armor, always comes back after a few hours. It was intended to keep players from losing their progression if they caught death for a few months. Or from being soft locked if they were captured, or had their gear temporarily stolen. After all, it was fine to steal someone's gear in the moment, during a heated push. But never permanently. There were some players who made an effort to use other people's gear as often as possible. Usually Central mercs, with a build focused on unlocking as much gear as possible.

Which meant wandering the small town with Al'alvaeia, stopping between homes and checking down streets and feeling my heart pulse with fear was made all the stronger by my lack of weapons. It seemed, unfortunately, that we had lost the town for the most part; I saw purple uniforms every few streets. I could still hear gunfire from the edge of town on the side we'd come from. We'd even run into a tank that had shot at us when Al had walked out of shadow into the street. It'd been a near miss, and losing the pursuing soldiers had been a difficult thing. Al was fortunate I had camoflage, even if sharing it sometimes took direct contact. If I'd been a wizard like he'd thought, neither of us would have survived.

"So, Illeri..." Al spoke while we rested in a house, listening to an armored car trundle past us, probably a street away. We were both seated against the wall, the window between us. "Your kid sibling... brother? Sister? Other?"

"Sister, if I recall correctly." I took a sip of water from his canteen, and tried to imagine what they would look like. "It's been a long time... I was in basic for a while." Technically, the game could assign anything. If it were listening, then, perhaps it'd adjust. I hadn't met her as a character yet... only given her an age, and some personality.

"How do you think she's doing?" His green eyed gaze met mine, and I tried to put some pain into my gaze. He looked away again. "S-sorry, I don't... mean to pry."

"No, it's... fine. I told you about her, after all. I... hope she's okay. I don't know. I worry that something's happened. She doesn't respond to my letters, and she was pissed when I got drafted." I thought back to the lore I'd written up, typing away in that off-brand writing program I'd rented. I had history, and some personality. But every character developed their own voice, their own wants and needs.

"Why's that?" He took the canteen back, and flinched as our hands brushed against each other.

"I mean, she thought I should hide when the soldiers came. It's not exactly like I got shanghai'd or something. They just... handed me a letter. She thought I should've hidden. She didn't understand that they would've just gotten me at the store, or something... but it doesn't matter. Once I was drafted, well, that was it."

"... I'm sorry. That's dreadful. I wish this war wasn't like this. I became a doctor to help people, but now it just feels like I'm prolonging the inevitable. I... you know, vows of nonviolence only matter if... you can't bring someone back. But I can." She raised an eyebrow at him, and he looked away, ashamed for some reason. "And then it suddenly doesn't feel like it matters. Because they'll just shoot at me again."

"And yet, if we don't defend the nation, all our people will die. Our towns and cities, replaced. The war is like this. If I don't fight, my sister will just be another body on the pile. And then what?" Illeri shuddered in horror, and I tried to remember I wasn't her for a moment. Too much. I needed to back off. Just a game. "What about you, what was your youth like?"

"It was war. A refugee, from a defeated nation. I'd been... training to become a doctor, and my parents were too old to join. I was given the choice, to be a medic and give them a place to live, to stay... or to be outcast. I haven't been home in a long time." We both knew what he really meant; was there really a difference between a smog-choked city teeming with hundreds of millions, and a figurative home? One still couldn't see their parents, talk to their girlfriend, or attend a class. The escapism only worked one way.

We both stared at the ground between us, struggling to find the words that connected us, that would finish this conversation and stop the pain, anything. "I hope we get to go home some day," I said finally. He nodded, and pulled his legs to his chest, almost in a sitting fetal position, his eyes locking onto the ground in front of him. My heart panged; this wasn't doing us any good. "Doctor, we should get moving again. I'd feel a lot better finding even one person to help us."

I watched him stand, stretching his joints out, and I followed suit. "It's frustrating that all we've found so far is purples. We got pushed really far back. Maybe they're hiding the bodies, but... where?"

I shrugged, thinking it through for a moment. "If I were worried that they'd revive behind lines, then... basements, maybe? I can't see them taking the bodies far; it's time better spent fighting. I don't know, they just lost the trench fight, and got pushed back. I imagine they don't want to get back into trench right now, so, maybe there's some sort of protocol in place to stack and burn?"

"Hmm. If it were the other away around, we'd just leave them on the streets. Too busy pushing forward, keeping momentum." I shook my head at that.

"Nah. Even if we were keeping momentum, I think we'd probably just push them into alleyways or something. What's really weird is that if the purples are winning, why aren't they picking up their own dead?"

"Shouldn't it be for the same reason, then? Too busy pushing. Maybe we're just really unlucky?"

"Well, there's always the chance the entire battlefield was already lost, and the losing dead got sent back." He chuckled, and shook his head with a half smirk. "Well, we are still here, aren't we? Alright, they gotta be somewhere."

-

"There! Finally, some blues." Al said, relief in his voice. I nodded, and let out a sigh of relief. We wouldn't be going back to trench today. Not today. If we could just keep playing safe... those gunshots were getting fewer and fewer.

"Looks like they and some purples got caught in a fight. Look at the way some blood leads away, and the casings on the ground there, next to the pillars." I pointed it out from our vantage point on the second floor, looking down into the courtyard. "The fight wasn't done yet. No one had time for clean up here. You can see some of the blood spatter is from bullets, and some is from melee."

"Err.... how do you tell?" Al was looking at me in surprise, and I shrugged, trying to play it nonchalant.

"Well, bullet's make a sort of shotspray pattern, see. Behind that body there, you see, it's like a cone. But the other one, that one," I took his arm and pointed it to both who had fallen, and felt both our heart beats quicken for a moment. "It's in an arc, like it got slung. Melee, like a sword, or knife. Also, you can see the dead purple next to them has a sword." I looked back at him, and saw his face redden a little and quickly let go of his arm. "S-sorry."

"No! No, it's fine, I just, it, you just, uh, caught me off guard. Sorry. You're very knowledgeable." Great. Now we were both stammering. Great to know we were both bottoms. Damn hormones, fuck off...You're supposed to be under better control than this.

I shook my head and took a step away as I felt my face heat up. I had to be bright red. What was I, stupid? "We should get down there, and get some people up. People with stealth, or who can revive if we can."

"Y-yeah. Uh. Let's go." He was already heading down the stairs and I let out a sigh of... relief, maybe. I put a hand against my belly and glared down at it, annoyed with the way it was twisting. I followed a moment later.

By the time I was down the stairs, he was already in the courtyard, hiding next to a pillar, and squatting next to a blue. I checked the angles before following, and eyed the bodies. I didn't recognize any of the blues.

Fred, however, stared back at me from her purple leathers, and for a moment, I just stared. I glanced at the next body, next to the blue who had been killed in melee; Jini, face down, but her cat ears and tail were visible. The purple who'd been shot, next to a suspicious amount of dirt; Deirdre's black halo was crumbled on the ground next to her head.

I looked over at Al. Still blue. He was in the middle of charging his medical equipment that would revive the other blue by hand cranking it. I went to stand by him. "We got really lucky! I know this one, a druid. She'll help us get more up, and we'll be back in business! I'm so glad I found you." He sounded relieved. He glanced up at me with a smile, and I watched it die as I slipped my knife under his chin. "Uhh!"

"Nice trick," I couldn't keep the cold ice out of my voice. "Getting me away from my gun. And dragging away any other dead bodies, right? What is it, an illusion?"

"... Mind trick." He said stiffly. "Damnit. I thought I'd have more time."

"Yeah. Yeah, I bet you did. Real cute. Stand up, love." He complied, slowly. "You're going to revive my commander, so I can get orders and know what to do with you. So. You knew I was a thief." I lead him over to Deirdre and motioned. "How'd you find out?"

"I was part of the crew that ambushed you. When it was clear we were losing the fight, I hid. Your team really did leave you, though. For hours. I didn't drag anyone away. Come on, I've stuck by you this entire time, you know me! And! Your side is losing!"

"Is it? Gods, you must think I'm stupid. Get to reviving her, please."

"This vestigial is your commander?" I nodded. "What's her class? I'll make a trade with you. I revive your commander if she can't revive anyone, and you let me go. We don't have to kill each other. Please. I don't want to fight you."

"She's a thief into spell thief line. Don't know if she can revive or not, I guess it depends on whether she stole the spell or not." Al'alvaeia hesitated. "Either that or we fight. Your choice."

"All you have is a knife...."

"And I have it pressed against your carotid. Elven anatomy is nearly identical to human, although some of it is a little harder to reach, since it's smaller. Want to find out?" He sighed, and knelt next to Deirdre.

"Fine. But then you let me go."

"Also, drop the mind trick. It's annoying me to see you in blue." I watched as the hues shifted in his clothes, darkening into purple. Worse, my sense of direction suddenly righted. The feeling of north and south flipped. The distant mountain suddenly felt like the iron mine I'd been protecting with trenches. It all suddenly felt so obvious. "Gods, what a trick. You really had me going."

"... I don't like killing. I didn't lie." He was cranking the machine again, but the changes weren't done; his sharp ears were rounding, his features thickened. "I was going to offer you a chance to desert. If you work with the enemy, you can do that. You just... have to get them into the colors. I was going to get your uniform dirty, and then...."

I snorted a laugh, frustrated with myself. "How many people have you gotten like this?"

"... Seven. You act like a sopping wet kitten enough, and touch their hand, and blush a little... it usually works. Even if they find out." I felt my free hand clench. "People can't help but be a little down bad for elves..." he muttered. "I know it was working on you."

"How long of a game does it run for? How long until you make the reveal. Or do you?" My hand hurt from clenching my knife. He had to be stupid. Did he really think his elven form was more attractive to me? If he'd been a human, I wouldn't have even suspected! But, then... I hadn't suspected anyways. Not a hint. And who would?

".... I don't. I... Usually my plan is to sleep with people. Get their clothes off, and..."

"You are horrific!" I said brightly, smiling at him. "You really epitomize this war well. Good job. Now stop talking." The anger was white-hot. Incandescent. Everything was calculated. His every word was a farce. I wanted to rip his eyes out and brand him the mark of Cain, the wrath of a goddess. I wish I could say it was Illeri's feelings, and not my own.

The machine dinged, and he placed it against Deirdre. "One last question, actually. What race are you, really? I feel dumb, I should've put this together a while ago."

".... Human. My class is Medic - Heretic - Soul Healer. I put a point into magic, and all of my levels have gone into magic, too. Second class, Awakened, then Dreaming Healer. I put a lot into psionics, mind tricks, and illusions."

"Yeah. High technology, and high magic. Nice little package. Built for this right from the start, hunh?" I spoke through gritted teeth, and forced myself to breathe. There was more to life than this. This was just how he decided to have fun. Could I really judge him for that?

"How do you even know I'm here right now? Maybe I already left, hunh?"

I felt my eye twitch in annoyance. "Just revive the commander, healer."

There was a snap as the machine pushed life into Deirdre, and her eyes flickered. Color returned to her skin. "Let me go. You promised. She doesn't need to be involved."

I don't keep promises with liars, and I didn't bother to respond beyond killing him.

Deirdre stared up at me groaning, and felt her face. "Ugh. How long have I been out?"

-

The fighting in the town was, predictably, winding down. Every fight that I thought we'd lost was actually the other way around. Every purple uniform had really been blue. It was obvious, if I had just paid attention. The purple's had been set up in a meat grinder way for this town. Always with an exit plan, unless they got ambushed. It had made fighting them annoying.

I learned all of this as Deirdre brought the rest of the squad back, and I tried to not beat myself up too much. She explained that we had gotten ambushed, and the fight had been one that was mostly harassment. I'd gone down in the first barrage from an unlucky hit. They hadn't had time to revive me, and had gotten pulled into a fight that had dragged them across the entire city, fighting more and more entrenched purples. Vehicles had been brought in for the first time just to try to clear it out with larger guns.

When victory was finally declared, we were still recuperating, resting next to the very tank that had shot at us... or rather, at Al'Alvaeia. Or whatever his name was. He had me under his thrall, but that didn't work with multiple people. I didn't bother to look at the stat screen, or the heroes or gambits of the day. I was too angry. I didn't want to risk learning his name.

No one seemed to notice anything important about me in this stat screen, at least. Thank god my mistakes weren't being highlighted. Perhaps the story was too small for "the history books" or whatever. Too personal. Too... human.

"Congratulations on reaching level 15, Illeri Shadesmith. You've been granted access to the following abilities; Light Melee Weapon Specialty, Enhanced Senses. You will need to choose a Light Melee Weapon to specialize in. (Combat Knife). Your technology level is three. You may requisition one of the following; Cloth Slippers, Leather Boots, Heavy Combat Boots, or Sabotons. You may requisition one of the following: Long Range Radio, Short Range Radio, Improved Gas Mask, Sampling Kit, Vehicle Repair Kit, Magic Detection Kit, Gear Maintenance Kit. You may change this requisition at any quartermaster, but only carry one at a time. Your magic level is three. You may requisition one of the following: Word Scroll, Spell Diagram(Dome), or Theory Tome. You may requisition one enchantment for all gear pieces(Arcane Cloth: Resist Pierce; Leather Boots: Hush; Pippytyr SMG: Recall Missed Bullets; Gunnhildr 104 Pistol; Hush; Combat Dagger: Haste; Gunnhildr Type 202 Bolt Action Rifle: Focus Sight (3x); Gas Mask: n/a; Gear Maintenance Kit: n/a) You may choose one ability: Share Stealth, Burn Mana, Water Proficiency, Melee Training, Ranged Training, Motionless Spells, Hidden Spells, Steal Ability, Steal Health."

"Warning; you are a level 15 Starved; you will now mutate. Choose, or one will be selected at random."

Three options flickered into my vision. I already knew what I wanted. But it couldn't hurt to look?

Gargoylian: Your technological limits increase by 2. Your willpower and strength is increased. You gain access to a new resource: Stillness. You may expend stillness to heal yourself. Your skin toughens, and becomes harder to piece; this passively stacks with armor, and is roughly equivalent to scale armor. Your ears become more sensitive to sound. The following changes will occur: Your horns will grow in the style of the Oni. You will grow vestigial wings in a painful process that lasts three days. If you have vestigial wings from another source, these will grow into fully fledged wings with poor maneuverability. Your skin will gray, akin to stone. Your tail will become more powerfully built. Warning: you must meditate completely still for at least two hours a day, in addition to sleep. You must eat stones to survive.

Blood Demon: Your limits do not change. Limits do not interfere with one another an additional tier higher. You gain access to a new resource: blood. Your mana pool increases. You may use your hit points or blood pool in place of mana to cast. You may increase the strength of your spells by expending blood or health. Your vision becomes more accustomed to the dark. You are sensitive to light changes, but may still operate in the light. The following changes will occur: Your horns will grow in the style of the Ram. Your pupils will become slit during the day. Your fingernails will lengthen, harden, and sharpen. Your teeth will fall out, and be replaced by fangs and sharks teeth. You will find vegetables repulsive, and meat alluring. You will develop a thirst for blood, which will increase as your blood pool lowers. Warning: You must drink blood to survive. Some find this to be greatly psychologically damaging.

Night Lord: Your magical limits increase by 2. Your spells are passively four times stronger in the dark, but fail to function in the direct light. You immediately gain access to any words, shapes, or types to cast invisibility. Your mana recharges faster at night. Your mana pool increases. Your vision becomes more accustomed to the dark. You are sensitive to the light, and are light blind. The following changes will occur: your horns will grow in the style of The Devil's Crown. Your pupils will become shaped like that of a goat, and your eyes will increase in size by 12.5%. Your horns and eyes emit faint light. Your feet will become replaced by hooves in a painful process, and your lower half will grow fur. Warning: You must rest in complete darkness. You cannot sleep if there is any light source besides yourself.

The radio is currently off ... not a fan of Van Mimble and the Mimbletones. Today's weather declares you should sit on your bigger boat clad in your water wings, galoshes, souwester and raincoat … and for goodness sake make sure you’re on the list for ‘the umbrella’. Yet again the window is covered in condensation but, to add to the mystery, it's also steamed up. Me and Biggest Dog must be breathing really heavily for this to have happened. As to the traffic, no doubt it will be it's usual ornery self as tends to be the case on a wet day on the Emerald Isle ... the drivers here do like to test wet road breaking distances on a day like this.

The shiny metropolis awaits once more. Bleuch! Pants to it all! Don't make me go out there! (sigh)

Trouble is, if I don't go in then, there'll be protests from the Hairy Horde as to the lack of stuff on the menu. Quite astonishing how well they can hold onto a placard. The spelling's a little off ... but I think I get the message. 'No fuds we feeds on yer unkles' was one of the latest. So I either need to make sure I keep my wellingtons on, or I should write to my relations and warn them.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34959370/chapters/87062965 So far, I’ve posted the first 8 chapters.  The total word count on the draft is 265 000 words of slow as fuck burn.  It’s all in beta reading now and getting posted on a roughly MWF schedule.   The problem wasn’t really the talking. Geralt had heard humans talking constantly every time he’d been within a quarter-mile of civilization his entire adult life. No, it wasn't the talking at all. The trouble with Jaskier was that he cared about the answers.In which Geralt learns to face himself, his relationships, and his place in a human-dominated world.