Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

31 - Ambition



If there was ever a time when the Golden Flagon wasn’t open, Lieze had yet to discover it. Even as the night passed into early morning, guild members continued to flood the tables, tapping their feet while awaiting the next big hunt. The comfort of a hot meal allowed Drayya to keep her head as she retold the events that transpired in the church.

“Hm. She sounds like a Dragon Cardinal to me.” Lieze considered her words for a moment before replying, “Did you get her name?”

“No. But I won’t be forgetting that face anytime soon.” Drayya answered, “Dragon Cardinals don’t wear habits, do they?”

“Perhaps she just likes to wear something familiar? From her days as a lowly disciple?” Lieze paused, “...I suppose it could just be a habit of hers?”

“How disappointing to hear that you’ve inherited your father’s nonexistent sense of humour.”

Drayya fell silent. The term ‘father’ in passing had caught her by surprise. It was clear the nun had dredged up more than a few unpleasant memories.

“These people are animals…” She strained to get the words out, barely keeping them under her breath, “They claim to be so pure and virtuous, yet recount my father’s death with a beastly longing, as if desperate for another chance to kill.”

“Drayya…”

“I… I didn’t know that was his fate.” She clenched her fist tightly enough to draw blood, “I thought he died quickly. But these people - these maggots - paraded his body around for days on end. They tortured him, Lieze. This so-called ‘Church’ extended his suffering for as long as possible…”

Lieze couldn’t say anything. Though Drayya had only known her father for a few short years prior to his fatal crusade against the Sovereign Cities, her love for him was purer than what was normally tolerated of an Order child. Indeed, the ambition expected of her blood may very well have arisen from Drayya’s desire to succeed where her father had failed, to honour his memory, if nothing else.

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“What’s the matter? Why are you silent?” Even so, her pride wouldn’t afford her the luxury of tears, no matter how vulnerable she was, “Can’t you say anything, Lieze? Anything to make me forget about this?”

“...No.” She admitted, “I’m sorry.”

“Just tell me it doesn’t matter.” Drayya requested, “Tell me there are more important things to be focusing on… like you used to.”

“We’re not going to fail.” Lieze vowed. It wasn’t what she’d been asked to say, but her conviction was true, “That woman… Helmach… Ricta… none of them are beyond our reach.”

From Lieze’s escape to Drayya’s retreat, their greatest boon was being underestimated. Neither the nun nor Helmach fully comprehended the whirlwind they were sowing. The proclamation didn’t seem to bring Drayya any comfort, but she understood better than anyone else the dangers of being swept up by her emotions, especially at such a crucial time.

“The Wraith.” She sniffed, tapping her finger on the table, “It’s our best chance at killing Helmach. We know he visits the church at night now. We can plan an ambush.”

“The Wraith is powerful, certainly. But we have to know when to play that card.” Lieze replied, “Revealing our hand this early is very risky.”

“It will be months - perhaps even a year, before we can muster a force large enough to assault the city directly. We’ll be lucky if Master Sokalar takes more than a month to return. Our victory will be determined by strategy, not brute force.”

“I wouldn't say that. Once we begin consolidating power, I'd wager we could handle quite a number of skirmishes. 'Strategy' doesn't have to involve cowardice. It's just a matter of picking our battles carefully." Lieze replied, "...Didn’t that nun say Helmach recognised you? What if he’s expecting an attack?”

“Even if he is, how do you expect him to fight off the Wraith? He’s powerful, certainly, but that foul creature is practically invincible. We wouldn’t even have to worry about the guards turning up with how quickly it will be over.”

“...I’m not sure about this, Drayya.”

“Listen to me-” She leaned forward, “When Marché returns, he and his cult will have plenty of thralls to serve as cannon fodder. We have to reveal ourselves at one point or another if we want to make any real headway.”

“We’ll be completely exposing ourselves to the city.”

“There is no other way, Lieze. We are alone.” Drayya insisted, “When Master Sokalar sent me on this mission, I didn’t have a clue what he was thinking. I spent days trying to come up with a plan in that old village. If you hadn’t turned up, I’d still be there.”

“Hm.” Lieze lowered her head to hide the half-smile forming on her face, “It almost sounds like you’re complimenting me.”

“Whatever you’ve done to yourself, it’s completely removed the factor of your aptitude from the equation.” Drayya continued, “Don’t think I’m blind. I can see your familiarity with necromancy improving by the day. At this rate, it won’t be long at all until the two of us are evenly matched.”

It was only natural that she would notice Lieze’s growth. How she would react to learning the origin of that power, however, was a different story. The scale had to remain a secret.

“It’s time for us to emerge from the shadows.” Drayya declared, “I won’t tell you it’s going to be easy. In fact, I’m not convinced it isn’t plain impossible. But if we remain the way we are, we’ll become exactly like Marché’s group - plagued with inaction, waiting for a perfect opportunity that will never come. Certainly, we might be exposing ourselves to unbelievable odds, but I'm confident the two of us can live through this.”

Drayya’s ambition was leaking out. But that wasn’t to say she was incorrect. Truthfully, Lieze was fearful that making any big moves in the city would result in a counterattack she wouldn’t be able to recover from. Her luck could only carry her so far. Was she really just going to waste time until her father reappeared?

“...I know.” She admitted, “I needed to hear that. Thank you, Drayya.”

“Well, it was always me who was pulling you out of your stupors, wasn’t it?”

An ally like Drayya was exactly what she’d been in need of. Someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge her ideals and say what needed to be said.

“I want you to visit Baccharum.” Lieze requested, “Completing guild requests won’t earn us the capital we need fast enough. Secure a loan from him. somewhere in the realm of 7,000 gold pieces.”

“That’s quite the sum. And you do know it’s not the best idea to take loans from a gang, don’t you?”

“Helmach will be dead in a week.” She declared, “-Tell him that. He won’t be able to refuse those terms because he’ll stand to gain either way - by losing an enemy, or by gaining a powerful, indebted ally.”

Drayya fell silent for a moment. She was trying to identify any other method.

“Fine.” Eventually, she caved, “I’ll leave for his little hole in the ground as soon as we’re finished here. What do you intend to do with the money?”

“You said it yourself, didn’t you? If we’re to take on Tonberg, our hideout will need to be more than a damp cave. We need a crypt. Traps. Perhaps even some exterior fortifications. Oh, and let’s not forget the alchemy table. The Dwarves will be more than happy to fulfil those requests if we wave enough gold in their faces.”

“Alma can take care of that. She’s had the most experience dealing with them.” Drayya paused, “But there’s a more pertinent issue at hand: How exactly do we stop Ricta from sending his royalists out to stomp our dreams into the dirt once we reveal ourselves?”

“It’s time we made use of our bargaining chip, I think.”

“Our dead bargaining chip, you mean?”

“Whether his sister is alive or dead doesn’t matter. The fact that he was likely feeding prisoners to a foul monster under his castle could sink his reputation... or, what's left of it.” Lieze replied, “He needs to be threatened. Ricta’s mask of authority exists to balance his inexperience on the throne. I hope to strike fear into the young man hiding beneath his royal façade.”

“-You’ll need another audience to do that.”

“He’ll welcome me with open arms, as he does with all prospective members of the guild. It’s simply a matter of walking up to the castle and claiming I have important information to reveal. Information related to the Order, perhaps.”

“You're suicidal. But what else is new?" Drayya stood from her seat, “Let’s not waste any more time. Marché will be back tomorrow, if we’re lucky. I’ll visit Baccharum immediately.”

“No.” Lieze halted the girl’s enthusiasm, “We should stay here for tonight. It’s far too dangerous to go wandering through the streets at this hour anymore.”

“...Hm.” Planting herself back down at the table, Drayya shrugged her shoulders, “As you wish. I wasn’t finished with my meal, anyway.”

There wouldn’t be any more room for mistakes going forward. In order to subvert the city’s overwhelming advantage against her, Lieze was going to have to make some incredibly risky decisions and hope that they all paid off. Helmach had demonstrated it quite conclusively when she was captured - that a single fumble would be the end of her.

“Drayya.” She began, “Be perfectly honest with me. Are you trying to meet my father’s expectations by doing this, or do you desire something more from it?”

Her peer mulled over the question while chewing, slowing the movements of her jaw as she tried to decipher Lieze’s intentions. Finally, she swallowed, “...Do you mean to surpass your own father, Lieze?”

“Say that is the case. What would your response be?”

“I would call you a fool.” She answered honestly, “No... a fool is smarter than that. You’d be attempting the impossible. That’s just plain idiocy.”

“Is that so…”

“But, you know…” Pursing her lips, Drayya seemed to be wondering if she truly wished to discuss the topic, “...I’m somewhat of an idiot myself, Lieze.”

I have your back.

There was no combination of circumstances that would ever force those words out of Drayya, but that admission was just about the closest she would ever get to them. There was a certain purity to her tone. A desire for reconciliation.

“...Well, one thing at a time.” Lieze muttered, “It’s been a long day. I’m going to retire for the night, then see about meeting with Ricta in the morning.”

“I’ll be heading back to the hideout once I’ve met with Baccharum tomorrow.” Drayya replied, “I’ll inform Alma of our plans and await Marché’s return. The Dwarves should also be finished with the entrance by that time, with a bit of luck.”

She remained at the table while Lieze departed to acquire a room for the night. Even as she settled down to sleep, horrible possibilities raced through her mind. Not only would she be facing off against Helmach, but the entire might of Tonberg. Even severely weakened by the siege, Ricta still commanded an army in the thousands. If she couldn’t convince him to stay his hand, her operation would be disintegrated by an overwhelming force.

“I need more power…” Her thoughts raced, “I need to be stronger than Drayya… stronger than my father. Only then can I guarantee our victory here in the city… and in the northern realms, also.”

There was no time to waste in the morning. Drayya had already left to negotiate a loan with Baccharum, and if her terms were accepted, Lieze would have but a single week to kill Helmach. As soon as she wolfed down her breakfast, it was off to the castle - across the city square where her strange journey had begun and up to the formidable gatehouses. It came as no surprise to her when the guards halted her attempt to enter with spears crossed at the gates.

“His Majesty is not holding court this day.” One of them spoke sternly. His leather coif was slick with the morning rains, “The castle grounds are off-limits.”

“I have some urgent information regarding the Order of Necromancer’s movements.” Lieze lied.

“If you’ll allow us a moment, we’ll arrange a maid to come and collect your testimony.” The guard replied, “His Majesty is preoccupied with other matters at the moment.”

“I can’t overstate the urgency of my claim.” Lieze insisted, “When this information inevitably takes hours to filter through the pipeline of servants, the first thing Ri- His Majesty would like to know is who prevented him from hearing it as quickly as possible.”

The guard shifted his feet. The glint of uncertainty in his eyes told Lieze that she’d picked the correct strategy. Whatever his circumstances, he wasn’t the type of person who was going to risk losing his job.

“I cannot let you pass, my lady.” He refused, “To allow a commoner access into the grounds-”

“I’m no commoner.” She interrupted, “I was present at the gala. In fact, I was extended the offer to attend by the king himself.”

“Rickard-” The other royalists spoke up, “Let her through. She’s telling the truth. I recognise her from the gala.”

“But…” His comrade descended to a whisper, “His Majesty-”

“I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“...Hah. I'm not taking responsibility for this, you hear?” Sighing, the guard lowered his spear and turned to Lieze, “Very well. But you’ll have to give your report to Saint Alistair. His Majesty has retired to his quarters for the day.”

Alistair? Ricta’s decrepit fossil of an attendant? Lieze was surprised to hear he hadn’t died of old age. Still, he presented a problem. She would have to find some way of entering Ricta’s chambers when she was inside the castle.

“Thank you.” Bowing her head, Lieze began on the winding path towards the hilltop castle, knowing full-well she was going to be repeating her spiel for every other gatehouse on the way up.


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