Pay the elven mage a visit

It’s already evening by the time you head over to the tree hut currently containing the elven adventurer. Apparently, she’s the only one of the four prisoners who refused to tell Blythe anything. Unfortunately, her being the mage of the party, that makes her the most useful to you.

So she needs to talk.

The guards on duty, a dire wolf and a lamia, bow their heads as you approach.

“Has she caused any trouble yet?” you ask.

“Nothing yet, my lord,” says the lamia. “She has been gagged, to prevent her from chanting spells.”

“Good work,” you say. “I’ll be having a chat with her now, so stay sharp.”

The lamia and dire wolf redouble their bowed posture. “Yes, my lord!” says the lamia.

With that, you climb the shoddy rope ladder that leads up to the makeshift prison cell. Once on the raised platform, you get a closer look at the little tree house. The hut has been bound in spider thread, with tiny holes here and there to allow air to flow. Around the small shelter, you see about twenty fist-sized spiders constantly shifting around, inspecting, and patching up weak spots in the casing. Sorry guys, you think, raising your open palm towards where the doorway ought to be. I’m about to ruin your hard work.

You prepare to blast open the door with a fireball, but something surprising makes you hold off on the incantation. As if sensing your intent, all twenty of the spiders, and several more that you didn’t see, scurry as fast as possible to the front of the hut. They collect over the sealed doorway like a massive blob of shifting legs. For a moment, you think they are trying to stop you from entering, but then you notice the webbing melting under their feet. Slowly, a crevice begins to form, which widens, and widens further, until the entire doorway into the stick-and-mud shelter is uncovered. Through the newfound hole, you see a bound and gagged elf sitting against the back wall.

She doesn’t look happy to see you. Too bad.

“Good evening, Ms. Melissari,” you say as you step inside the little room. The moment you pass through the entrance, the spiders begin to seal up the door again. Before they shut out most of the evening sun, you pull a mana crystal out of your pocket, light it, and balance it on a branch, high up in one of the corners of the hut. The light shines down on your prisoner, giving her nowhere to hide. She glares at you intensely, but you can see some anxiety hidden behind her steely gaze. Is she worried about being locked in a room with you? Is she wondering what you could want, or what you plan on doing to her? Curious to find out, you go ahead and remove the gag.

“How in the world do you know my name?”

Really? That’s what she’s worried about?

“I guess your friends aren’t as tight-lipped as you are, Rowena,” you say. According to Blythe’s report, the others broke easily, or were at least tricked into revealing bits of information about themselves.

“By the grace of the land, sea, and stars,” the elf starts to chant, “I beseech thee, release a mighty—”

You cut her off by planting your hand over her mouth. With her back already against the wall, there’s nowhere for her to run, and you easily pin her down. “I’m just going to stop you right there,” you say. Rowena continues to struggle, despite your hold on her. “I’d like to have a chat with you, if that’s alright. And I’d prefer not to have to clean up any messes. So play nice, or I put the gag back on. Or worse.” Without chanting anything, you push mana into the hand currently sealing the elf’s lips shut. You can tell when she feels the power flowing through your veins, as her eyes suddenly go wide, and she stops her futile attempts to break free. Satisfied with her reaction, you remove your hand and sit down in front of her.

As you get situated, the elf begins the conversation. “What do you want from me, demon? That traitorous slut already tried to get me to talk, but she couldn’t. I would rather die than help you in any way.”

“That’s some pretty over-the-top animosity for some guy you just met,” you say, glancing over the fact that she called Blythe a traitor.

“You’re a Demon Lord! An enemy of happiness and peace. If I were powerful enough, I would smite you with the Goddess’s holy magic and rid the world of your stench.”

“…Interesting,” is all you can say. An enemy of happiness and peace. Wow. It boggles your mind how one wanted poster with your face on it could so thoroughly convince someone that you’re aiming to destroy the world. You’re also surprised to hear her suggest that holy magic would kill you. When the priest tried it before, he made it seem like holy magic is only effective against you if you’re an actual demon. Can she not see that you’re very clearly a human? Or does she simply not understand how holy magic works?

…Might as well ask.

“How familiar are you with holy magic, Rowena?” The woman scowls when you use her name. After waiting several seconds for an answer that doesn’t come, you move on. “I know you’re familiar with spells that enhance your allies’ strength in combat.” The elf doesn’t confirm your statement, but her silent stare is affirmation enough. “I’m interested in a spell that can mask my presence. I want to be able to walk the streets, unrecognized. Would you happen to know of a spell like that?” Again, a silent **** glare is all you get from the cobalt-haired mage. You give her ample time to speak up, but she refuses. Alright, lady. I tried to play nice, you think. I didn’t really want to do this, but you leave me ****.

“Let’s talk about Roy Londmire,” you say, invoking the name of the man in their adventuring party. Rowena tries her best not to react, but she can’t hold it in completely: her glare intensifies, and a touch of pink appears on her cheeks. You can tell immediately that Blythe’s intuition about her was spot on: she’s got a crush on her party leader. Not just her, though; apparently all three of the women in Roy’s party are secretly in love with him. “From what the others told us, your party leader is an impressive man. Mr. Londmire joined the guild, what, three years ago? Rose to C-rank in record time, earning high praise from every party he took on jobs with. Seems there isn’t a woman in Evris who wouldn’t be pining after your man.” That adds a bit more color to the elf’s face, to the point where her **** glare is really losing its potency now. “It would be a shame,” you say, leveling your own serious glare at the woman, “if something unfortunate were to happen to him.”

That breaks her. Rowena Melissari goes as pale as a ghost. “Don’t. Touch. Him,” says the elf, biting every word.

“That all depends on you,” you say, grinning at your victory. With negotiations effectively over, you replace the gag over the elf’s mouth and retrieve the mana crystal from its perch in the corner. “I’ll visit you again in the morning,” you say as you knock on the solid wall of spider silk blocking your exit. Within seconds, the barrier begins to dissolve under the ministrations of the spiders on the outside. “I expect you to be more cooperative by then.” With that, you step out onto the small platform surrounding the hut, leaving Rowena to be sealed up once again.

It is now twilight in the monster village. From your vantage point up in the tree, you look down and survey your followers. Many are just now coming home for the night, having spent their day hunting and gathering in the forest. Others are milling about as they enjoy the last vestiges of daylight, or hurrying up to finish the day’s chores. Some children are still outside, playing. The view puts a smile on your face, and you stay for a few minutes to really appreciate it. Once the twilight fades into night, you finally descend the rope ladder.

Your next destination, you thought, was going to be the ground shelter you and the girls have been using. However, a sudden tugging sensation on your right thumb directs your attention to the eastern tree line. Noting that there’s nothing visibly attached to your thumb, there’s only one person who could be calling you.