Wardancer 8 - NNWM 2k17
Nov. 27th, 2017 11:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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This part contains a NSFW sex scene segment at the start. If you don't want to read it, when you get to “How do I know you’re not just doing this for yourself?” just crtl+f to "We didn’t even notice when Miri snuck by"
We spent the greater part of a week helping get the basics of Greater Ro’athe up and running again. At the very least, it looked a bit banged up, and not like a bunch of wannabe coward Nazi punks had tried to run rampant all over it. I kept the uniform on for now, as it was giving the people hope. I explained to them back home, it belonged to a woman who managed to snipe more of these kinds of fuckers than anyone else in her country, and she believed that for every one she killed, that meant at least one more life saved. A true inspiration. That, and well, chicks dig a chick in uniform. And I finally got to wear a hat to rival my sister’s.
But once the townsfolk had gotten it so they could go from there, and thanked us profusely, it came time for us all to have The Talk.
No, not that one. And not that one, either.
We had to go face the Demon Lord Hjalmar, and it had to be as soon as possible. And we still had no game plan. We sat in the underground bunker, using its wartable and whiteboards to draft out all sorts of plans and bands and songs, but nothing was sticking. All my sudden bursts of creativity had dried up. I suppose that’s what happens when whatever you do next determines the fate of a world where everyone knows your name and prays to whatever gods existed here that you manage to pull this one off. The previous Wardancer did, whomever they were.
I decided to sleep on it one more day, sometimes that’s all someone needs is to rest a bit and get it knocked into them in a dream.
I excused myself to the makeshift inn we had made and found a lone bed, which had been reserved for me, the brave genera-les-immo, the worst joke over. I lay my cap to the side and propped myself up on the bed, wondering just what we’d do, since tomorrow, come hell or high water, we would begin our final march. Had it already been nearly a month since this whole thing began? Some of these quests take years, or maybe they say that because it feels that way, as this most certainly felt like half a decade’s worth of experience crammed in a few short weeks.
I lost track of the time, but I most certainly hadn’t fallen asleep. I heard my door creak open. I saw a familiar shadow standing in my doorway.
“Kat? Is that you?” My voice sounded rather monotone for once.
“Knew you weren’t asleep. We...We got worried when you suddenly got up and came here. They sent me to check on you.” Kat responded, sounding equally emotionless for once.
“Okay, did Jules threaten you, or was this just your idea?”
“You caught me, it’s the latter.” Kat sighed. “Look, I just...We all really do care about you. We all love you in our own various ways, and we don’t want to see the end result of this final performance being, well, you know.”
“I’m not going to lose. That’s one thing that’s impossible for me, Kat. I don’t know if you know me that well by now, but have I ever let you all down once? It’s just overwhelming you know, suddenly being thrown here and being told I’m the hero I always wanted to be since I was a kid, but not quite in the way I imagined. I always pictured it with me using more swords, slaying more dragons, getting laid a bit more maybe.”
“No, you haven’t. That’s why I lo--- er, that’s what I like about you. Though, I could, uh, probably help you with the latter problem.”
“Did you come here to hit on me while nobody else could see one last time?”
“Well, I am a dragon. Back home, at least. I’ve no sword, but I could knock out two of your fantasies in one lay, brave hero, don’t you think you’ve earned it? I’ve seen how you’ve been resisting me this whole journey; it’s been in your face. You’re a horrible liar, Atma. Your pride wouldn’t let you give in, but if this be your last night here, then toss it away, would you?”
“How do I know you’re not just doing this for yourself?”
“I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t enjoy it. But, uh. Look I’m bad at this feelings crap. I admire you and like you in ways that make things all over me feel funny. How’s about you just shut up and accept that?”
With that, Kat picked me up by my uniform lapels and placed her lips on mine. They were surprisingly soft, leaving me with my eyes wide in surprise, face flush red. My hands flailed, as if I had in that moment lost all my game I previously had in previous nights’ orgies and such, turning me back into a horrible, virginal flirt. Her hands moved quick, undoing my top and revealing a meager chestwrap underneath. I sat back on the bed, looking a bit aghast, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t craving more. Anyone that could send a feeling like that down my spine was worthy of the Wardancer. I just wish I was as cool and heroic in bed as I was on stage. For her.
She didn’t seem to mind, though, as she slid my top all the way off, tossing my gloves on the floor aside, and running her fingertips down my chest and stomach, towards my belt buckle and jangling it loose. This was actually happening, and my heart rate sped up as my body warmed up and tingled all over. She licked my lips and pushed on in, kissing me deeper, making me lose control of myself even harder. I could actually feel my loins moistening as she got my belt undone, not unlocking her kiss until she felt the need to whisper in my ear “You taste nice.”
Once I was finally down to my chestwrap (I had been going commando in my uniform just to keep with the theme since it’s not like I got any with my kilt, you get used to it after a while), I tried to shy away, one arm over my chest and one covering my crotch, legs scrunched up so she couldn’t get a full glimpse of my ass. It was of no use; off my wrap went, and I was totally bare before the barbarian herself.
“Quit playing coy, Hero. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. Why don’t you tear apart my chainmail bikini like I know you’re thinking of, like I did to you? Bare yourself to me and show me how a woman with the title of Hero slays a dragon, hmmm?” Kat teased, licking her own lips and daring me, backing off just enough that I’d have to stand up and show my whole body to her. Fine. So be it. I had nothing to be ashamed of. I got up proudly and showed off whatever assets she was hoping to see in all their glory and marched on over to her, pinning her to the wall and biting her neck as I grabbed her chest and tore that stupid chain right off it, other hand daring to go down the crotch of her chain loincloth and undo that as well, forcing my own nude body against hers.
“You want a Hero? Then get on the bed. Now.” I commanded, throwing her on the mattress and immediately throwing myself on her, huffing and snarling, hands pinning her by her shoulders to the bed, our faces both bright red, trying to act tough and not give in to the other, but knowing if we didn’t kill the long standing tension between us now, it threatened to crush the rest of the story in its weight. It was my turn to force a kiss on her, showing her that my nickname of tongueblade wasn’t just because of my lyrical wit on stage.
“Thaaaat’s more like it.” Kat teased further. “You’re better than I thought, Hero.”
“Shut up and fuck me, you stupid dragon. The door’s open and I don’t want us to get caught.”
“Bah. Let them watch. They all probably can hear us anyways.”
“They better.”
Her body felt so nice under my hands, exploring every inch of it hungrily with my tingling fingertips and my mouth, making her want it, treating her like the beast she demanded to be labeled as, especially when I parted her lips down under and really showed her what it meant to be a Wardancer and use your mouth as a weapon. I cackled as I loudly repeated back what she told me earlier about me tasting good, her own nectar dripping from my lips. I didn’t care if she returned the favor, being in power like this felt good, but she insisted, and I found myself on the edge of the bed feeling what it’s like being devoured by a mighty maiden snatcher snatching at some maiden’s snatch.
Eventually we climbed back together on bed, side by side, just making out and tasting ourselves on each other’s tongues, chests squished together, fingers inserted in places unmentionable until we were so spent, our bodies having quivered and quaked from climax countless times that we just fell into each others arms and immediately began snoring.
We didn’t even notice when Miri snuck by with her damn magic Polaroid and took a few shots, not bothering to close the door, but definitely charging a few coin to anyone in our party or in the town who wanted to peek in. But that’s as much as they got. She’d say take a picture, it’d last longer, but she was the only one here with a magic camera, so too bad for them.
“You two done good. I’m proud of you. Maybe now, something will come to our Hero. Well, besides what just did. I crack myself up.” Miri said as dawn rose, waking us up in time to get dressed and make our way back down to the war room. Memories of our dalliances earlier flooded our heads as we rose to, our faces flush red as we got ready and head on down, hoping we weren’t too much of a bother.
“So.” Nobu was the first to speak up. Of course she was. “Heard someone slayed the dragon last night.”
“Who fucking told?” I shouted.
“You all did. You have any idea what it’s like hearing your recently revealed sister say those kinds of things to anyone? I’m pretty sure you made half of us celibate for the next month. Good job, Hero.” Shawn said, obviously a bit grossed out.
“I was just trying to be her muse, her inspiration, to give her something to pull out of her ass so she could save us!” Kat argued.
That’s when we heard a knock at the door. Hoshigiri snickered at us and gave us a thumbs up and a wink as she went to check in on who it was. “Hey, Atma. Some King from somewhere called Adoch’s here, and he’s got a whole mess of people with him.”
“Huh? Tell them we’ll meet them in the town square in five minutes.” I was curious what was up. Did the King get this worried that he’d send in reinforcements? Hadn’t he heard about how well we were doing? I gathered my team, the lot of them congratulating Kat and I in various ways on finally just getting business out of the way as we made our way to the center of Ro’athe.
There wasn’t enough words in any language to describe the look of surprise on my face as we made it to the square. Sure, there was the king, along with a guard carrying an impressive looking chest, but behind him was, well, everyone. Sexwarrior. The Electric Dojo Goths. A few freed men from In Search of Bucky Walter. Even the assholes from Hotter Than Hekk showed up. They smiled warmly at us, or at least as much as some of them would give me the time of day.
“Holy shit.” was all I could really muster.
“My dear Wardancer, you stand between the free land of Melodia and the doorsteps of Demon Lord Hjalmar’s domain. It’s been a while since I’ve last seen you, and I felt you should know the origins of the hero you are the reincarnation of. Aren’t you curious how you came to be in Melodia?” The king began. “A true Hero ought know her purpose, besides her main quest objective, after all.”
“And let me guess, everyone else followed once they saw you coming by and you told them where you were going and who you were going to see.” I laughed. I honestly wanted to cry. Some of these bands were people I knew, my friends, some were my own creations, some were just assholes looking for an easy gig, but we were all in it for the music. And without a truly free Melodia, none of us would ever be able to sing again.
“Yup. You think we’d let you rot out here alone? Hardly.” Reili scoffed. It was good to hear her again.
“Now then, Wardancer. As you know, you are the reincarnation of the original Wardancer that saved our realm a thousand or so years ago using only song to subdue the Demon Lord Hjalmar, and since then we have used music to keep his soul asleep, but the music grew too dull for him, and he woke, and now we know once and for all, he needs to be destroyed.”
“And how do you suppose I do that?” I asked.
“We have here the last gift of the original Wardancer, forged by him after he originally put Hjalmar to sleep so long ago. He entrusted it to Adoch, his hometown, and the original king of it, and said should Hjalmar ever awaken, to give it to him again, as he would surely be back, and you’d know it was him, no matter what form he took. It’s the ultimate weapon, the absolute finest piece of musical equipment ever forged, made in the last years of his life only after decades of musical research and trial and failure. Sadly, it was only because he couldn’t defeat Hjalmar he had to forge it, something in him knowing that his work would have to be completed some other time. And that time is now. So, without further ado, we’d like to give you his final gift.”
This was it. I was going to get the musician’s equivalent of Excalibur or something. A weapon for the ages. The guard stepped forth and offered me the chest, opening it and standing silent as a brilliant radiance shot forth from the box. After a moment, I reached in and pulled out…
A golden microphone and a pair of aviator sunglasses rimmed in diamond with reflective lenses? Really? This was decades of holy, magical, music research distilled down to just this?
“I know that look. You seem skeptical. But if you truly be his reincarnation, if you hold that microphone, put on those glasses, and say the magic phrase, you, too, will believe that whatever is in you will overtake Hjalmar. But it will come at a price, one I’ve already discussed with everyone with me, and one I will have to ask of your band now.”
“A price? I’m not sure if I like where this is going.” I held the equipment tentatively, unsure if this would be worth it.
“Yes. All their levels will drop back down to one, with only knowledge enough to use one instrument or skill of their choosing at minimal competence. But, in return, you will gain all of their skills, all of their points, and are free to allocate it to whatever new skills will be unlocked within you. You will become the ultimate bard, master of all, and with the right plan, using only strength in numbers and your new divine talents, I believe you can ascend to the rank of Heaven’s Raconteur, the only class a Wardancer can change to, and can only unlock with this weapon, named Ysolt, and by chanting the magic phrase ‘Let freedom sing’ into it. But remember its cost...”
I turned to my band, holding my glasses and Ysolt in my hand, and as I was about to open my mouth, they all shook their head.
“You don’t even need to ask us.” Miri went first. “The second we heard the king said that, we all turned to each other and nodded. Some things just need go unspoken. Our eyes said it all. You’re the Wardancer, you’re the Hero, you’re the one who’s sang and danced and lead us all here, and we couldn’t have made it this far without your power. So, if need be, we will drop ourselves down to the bare basics and let you become the legend that will defeat this Hjalmar once and for all.”
“We did say, back when we met, that you were the hero this world deserved, right?” Claire chimed in. “I’m ready to do it. We all are. Even this shitty boy band that tagged along knows they’d be no match, and if they ever want a record deal in Taiyr again, they’ll do as we say.”
I turned and looked everyone in the eye once to be sure. Our gazes were steady, but my eyes were starting to water heavily. All this faith in me, the Wardancer, after so little time. Was this really the power of a leader, a hero? The power of prophecy?
“So, knowing you be him, now a her, and proven yourself well enough, with the power of all your friends in you, will you do what needs to be done and become the light that will drive the darkness out of Melodia once and for all, Atma Weapon?” The king said.
“That’s the first time anyone’s used my full name and not ‘hero’ or ‘Wardancer’ or ‘Atma the Wardancer’ since this quest began...” I sniffled a bit as I put the glasses on, half to get this show on the road and half so nobody would see their brave hero cry. “I know now what I must do, and holding ysolt’s given me all the ideas I need to face Hjalmar. I can hear the old Wardancer’s wisdom in this weapon, and I trust it, if you’ll all trust me.”
And with that, I flicked Ysolt on and put it up to my mouth, standing proud, voice shaking just a bit.
“Let freedom sing!”
As soon as those words left my lips, a massive bolt of light shot out from the whole center of the town, everyone’s energy and knowledge flowing into me at once, almost overloading me, making me kneel as I screamed and cried, not in pain, but in knowing now there was no turning back. After it was all said and done, I stood back up. Everything about me shone a brilliant gold now, my crimsons deeper than ever, my gloves and boots made of metal in heroic designs, my cap now swept back, shawl turning into a full, impressive cape of pure energy, flowing and trickling off from behind me almost like flames into the air, an overwhelming sense of strength and energy, almost limitless stamina to me.
I had become Heaven’s Raconteur.
“Looking good, boss. Almost a bit too heroic, but hey, if we got to put on a show, you’re gonna put on a damn good one.” Shawn laughed.
“Well then..” I stood, Ysolt at my hip like a sword at rest, raising my sunglasses up. “This has given me a wonderful idea. Forget any pre-planned anything. Hjalmar may catch wind of it and make something to beat us to the punch. We march at sundown, so get ready. We need to be at his castle ASAP; I got a surprise waiting for him, as I do all of you. This will give you time to pick your one specialty skill, and while it’ll ultimately be up to you what you’ll go in with me using, may I just recommend one thing?”
I grinned at everyone as I flipped my shades back on.
“Forget about what would be strongest. Just focus on what’ll be coolest.”
I’d spend the rest of the day allocating my new skill points and rearranging my new skill tree in a rather interesting and unorthodox array that would probably make most people playing any game wonder just what the hell this was going to do to help us defeat a final boss. Doing my own pyrotechnics? Special effects? Bizarre genre knowledge choices? No instrument specialty? Going in armed only with Ysolt? Just what was I planning?
I thanked the king and bid him wait for my return and rallied my troops one last time as the sun began to set. Microphone to my lips, I said what I knew would embolden everyone before me.
“To my fellow band, now massive in size. Words cannot express the gratitude I feel knowing you all this hour. You have all come to trust me in so little time to be your leader, your hero, all because prophecy told you to. I took the reins, doubtful, but have found my niche here, and no matter what happens on the stage of battle tomorrow evening, know that we WILL stand tall, we WILL fight, and we WILL win. I am nothing without you all; a lead singer needs her band. All of you will be essential backup. There is no more time for tears, no more time for cowardice, and if anyone wants out now, then stand aside with the king, I will not blame you.”
And for a brief moment, I waited. And nobody stood aside. Not even Gus.
“...And words cannot express what it means to see every one of you all in. It’s all or nothing. We now march on Demon Lord Hjalmar’s castle and shall see him destroyed, erased from Melodia’s history for good. And for the rest of time, may Melodia instead sing the song of Atma Weapon, the reincarnation of the original Wardancer, now Heaven’s Raconteur, and her merry band, until the final sun sets on this glorious land!”
I raised my fist up and cried one last phrase.
“TO VICTORY!”
The crowd roared and cheered as I jumped off stage and went to the front of the pack, leading my band off to the furthest east point of Melodia. The Deadlands. Demon lord Hjalmar’s lair would be reached by dawn, and by next night, gods willing, he would be dead. Our footsteps slowly faded out of Ro’athe and towards the apocalyptic hellscape on the horizon.
I’m a real woman of the waves, Hjalmar. You’ll see.
You’ll all see.
This part contains a NSFW sex scene segment at the start. If you don't want to read it, when you get to “How do I know you’re not just doing this for yourself?” just crtl+f to "We didn’t even notice when Miri snuck by"
We spent the greater part of a week helping get the basics of Greater Ro’athe up and running again. At the very least, it looked a bit banged up, and not like a bunch of wannabe coward Nazi punks had tried to run rampant all over it. I kept the uniform on for now, as it was giving the people hope. I explained to them back home, it belonged to a woman who managed to snipe more of these kinds of fuckers than anyone else in her country, and she believed that for every one she killed, that meant at least one more life saved. A true inspiration. That, and well, chicks dig a chick in uniform. And I finally got to wear a hat to rival my sister’s.
But once the townsfolk had gotten it so they could go from there, and thanked us profusely, it came time for us all to have The Talk.
No, not that one. And not that one, either.
We had to go face the Demon Lord Hjalmar, and it had to be as soon as possible. And we still had no game plan. We sat in the underground bunker, using its wartable and whiteboards to draft out all sorts of plans and bands and songs, but nothing was sticking. All my sudden bursts of creativity had dried up. I suppose that’s what happens when whatever you do next determines the fate of a world where everyone knows your name and prays to whatever gods existed here that you manage to pull this one off. The previous Wardancer did, whomever they were.
I decided to sleep on it one more day, sometimes that’s all someone needs is to rest a bit and get it knocked into them in a dream.
I excused myself to the makeshift inn we had made and found a lone bed, which had been reserved for me, the brave genera-les-immo, the worst joke over. I lay my cap to the side and propped myself up on the bed, wondering just what we’d do, since tomorrow, come hell or high water, we would begin our final march. Had it already been nearly a month since this whole thing began? Some of these quests take years, or maybe they say that because it feels that way, as this most certainly felt like half a decade’s worth of experience crammed in a few short weeks.
I lost track of the time, but I most certainly hadn’t fallen asleep. I heard my door creak open. I saw a familiar shadow standing in my doorway.
“Kat? Is that you?” My voice sounded rather monotone for once.
“Knew you weren’t asleep. We...We got worried when you suddenly got up and came here. They sent me to check on you.” Kat responded, sounding equally emotionless for once.
“Okay, did Jules threaten you, or was this just your idea?”
“You caught me, it’s the latter.” Kat sighed. “Look, I just...We all really do care about you. We all love you in our own various ways, and we don’t want to see the end result of this final performance being, well, you know.”
“I’m not going to lose. That’s one thing that’s impossible for me, Kat. I don’t know if you know me that well by now, but have I ever let you all down once? It’s just overwhelming you know, suddenly being thrown here and being told I’m the hero I always wanted to be since I was a kid, but not quite in the way I imagined. I always pictured it with me using more swords, slaying more dragons, getting laid a bit more maybe.”
“No, you haven’t. That’s why I lo--- er, that’s what I like about you. Though, I could, uh, probably help you with the latter problem.”
“Did you come here to hit on me while nobody else could see one last time?”
“Well, I am a dragon. Back home, at least. I’ve no sword, but I could knock out two of your fantasies in one lay, brave hero, don’t you think you’ve earned it? I’ve seen how you’ve been resisting me this whole journey; it’s been in your face. You’re a horrible liar, Atma. Your pride wouldn’t let you give in, but if this be your last night here, then toss it away, would you?”
“How do I know you’re not just doing this for yourself?”
“I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t enjoy it. But, uh. Look I’m bad at this feelings crap. I admire you and like you in ways that make things all over me feel funny. How’s about you just shut up and accept that?”
With that, Kat picked me up by my uniform lapels and placed her lips on mine. They were surprisingly soft, leaving me with my eyes wide in surprise, face flush red. My hands flailed, as if I had in that moment lost all my game I previously had in previous nights’ orgies and such, turning me back into a horrible, virginal flirt. Her hands moved quick, undoing my top and revealing a meager chestwrap underneath. I sat back on the bed, looking a bit aghast, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t craving more. Anyone that could send a feeling like that down my spine was worthy of the Wardancer. I just wish I was as cool and heroic in bed as I was on stage. For her.
She didn’t seem to mind, though, as she slid my top all the way off, tossing my gloves on the floor aside, and running her fingertips down my chest and stomach, towards my belt buckle and jangling it loose. This was actually happening, and my heart rate sped up as my body warmed up and tingled all over. She licked my lips and pushed on in, kissing me deeper, making me lose control of myself even harder. I could actually feel my loins moistening as she got my belt undone, not unlocking her kiss until she felt the need to whisper in my ear “You taste nice.”
Once I was finally down to my chestwrap (I had been going commando in my uniform just to keep with the theme since it’s not like I got any with my kilt, you get used to it after a while), I tried to shy away, one arm over my chest and one covering my crotch, legs scrunched up so she couldn’t get a full glimpse of my ass. It was of no use; off my wrap went, and I was totally bare before the barbarian herself.
“Quit playing coy, Hero. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. Why don’t you tear apart my chainmail bikini like I know you’re thinking of, like I did to you? Bare yourself to me and show me how a woman with the title of Hero slays a dragon, hmmm?” Kat teased, licking her own lips and daring me, backing off just enough that I’d have to stand up and show my whole body to her. Fine. So be it. I had nothing to be ashamed of. I got up proudly and showed off whatever assets she was hoping to see in all their glory and marched on over to her, pinning her to the wall and biting her neck as I grabbed her chest and tore that stupid chain right off it, other hand daring to go down the crotch of her chain loincloth and undo that as well, forcing my own nude body against hers.
“You want a Hero? Then get on the bed. Now.” I commanded, throwing her on the mattress and immediately throwing myself on her, huffing and snarling, hands pinning her by her shoulders to the bed, our faces both bright red, trying to act tough and not give in to the other, but knowing if we didn’t kill the long standing tension between us now, it threatened to crush the rest of the story in its weight. It was my turn to force a kiss on her, showing her that my nickname of tongueblade wasn’t just because of my lyrical wit on stage.
“Thaaaat’s more like it.” Kat teased further. “You’re better than I thought, Hero.”
“Shut up and fuck me, you stupid dragon. The door’s open and I don’t want us to get caught.”
“Bah. Let them watch. They all probably can hear us anyways.”
“They better.”
Her body felt so nice under my hands, exploring every inch of it hungrily with my tingling fingertips and my mouth, making her want it, treating her like the beast she demanded to be labeled as, especially when I parted her lips down under and really showed her what it meant to be a Wardancer and use your mouth as a weapon. I cackled as I loudly repeated back what she told me earlier about me tasting good, her own nectar dripping from my lips. I didn’t care if she returned the favor, being in power like this felt good, but she insisted, and I found myself on the edge of the bed feeling what it’s like being devoured by a mighty maiden snatcher snatching at some maiden’s snatch.
Eventually we climbed back together on bed, side by side, just making out and tasting ourselves on each other’s tongues, chests squished together, fingers inserted in places unmentionable until we were so spent, our bodies having quivered and quaked from climax countless times that we just fell into each others arms and immediately began snoring.
We didn’t even notice when Miri snuck by with her damn magic Polaroid and took a few shots, not bothering to close the door, but definitely charging a few coin to anyone in our party or in the town who wanted to peek in. But that’s as much as they got. She’d say take a picture, it’d last longer, but she was the only one here with a magic camera, so too bad for them.
“You two done good. I’m proud of you. Maybe now, something will come to our Hero. Well, besides what just did. I crack myself up.” Miri said as dawn rose, waking us up in time to get dressed and make our way back down to the war room. Memories of our dalliances earlier flooded our heads as we rose to, our faces flush red as we got ready and head on down, hoping we weren’t too much of a bother.
“So.” Nobu was the first to speak up. Of course she was. “Heard someone slayed the dragon last night.”
“Who fucking told?” I shouted.
“You all did. You have any idea what it’s like hearing your recently revealed sister say those kinds of things to anyone? I’m pretty sure you made half of us celibate for the next month. Good job, Hero.” Shawn said, obviously a bit grossed out.
“I was just trying to be her muse, her inspiration, to give her something to pull out of her ass so she could save us!” Kat argued.
That’s when we heard a knock at the door. Hoshigiri snickered at us and gave us a thumbs up and a wink as she went to check in on who it was. “Hey, Atma. Some King from somewhere called Adoch’s here, and he’s got a whole mess of people with him.”
“Huh? Tell them we’ll meet them in the town square in five minutes.” I was curious what was up. Did the King get this worried that he’d send in reinforcements? Hadn’t he heard about how well we were doing? I gathered my team, the lot of them congratulating Kat and I in various ways on finally just getting business out of the way as we made our way to the center of Ro’athe.
There wasn’t enough words in any language to describe the look of surprise on my face as we made it to the square. Sure, there was the king, along with a guard carrying an impressive looking chest, but behind him was, well, everyone. Sexwarrior. The Electric Dojo Goths. A few freed men from In Search of Bucky Walter. Even the assholes from Hotter Than Hekk showed up. They smiled warmly at us, or at least as much as some of them would give me the time of day.
“Holy shit.” was all I could really muster.
“My dear Wardancer, you stand between the free land of Melodia and the doorsteps of Demon Lord Hjalmar’s domain. It’s been a while since I’ve last seen you, and I felt you should know the origins of the hero you are the reincarnation of. Aren’t you curious how you came to be in Melodia?” The king began. “A true Hero ought know her purpose, besides her main quest objective, after all.”
“And let me guess, everyone else followed once they saw you coming by and you told them where you were going and who you were going to see.” I laughed. I honestly wanted to cry. Some of these bands were people I knew, my friends, some were my own creations, some were just assholes looking for an easy gig, but we were all in it for the music. And without a truly free Melodia, none of us would ever be able to sing again.
“Yup. You think we’d let you rot out here alone? Hardly.” Reili scoffed. It was good to hear her again.
“Now then, Wardancer. As you know, you are the reincarnation of the original Wardancer that saved our realm a thousand or so years ago using only song to subdue the Demon Lord Hjalmar, and since then we have used music to keep his soul asleep, but the music grew too dull for him, and he woke, and now we know once and for all, he needs to be destroyed.”
“And how do you suppose I do that?” I asked.
“We have here the last gift of the original Wardancer, forged by him after he originally put Hjalmar to sleep so long ago. He entrusted it to Adoch, his hometown, and the original king of it, and said should Hjalmar ever awaken, to give it to him again, as he would surely be back, and you’d know it was him, no matter what form he took. It’s the ultimate weapon, the absolute finest piece of musical equipment ever forged, made in the last years of his life only after decades of musical research and trial and failure. Sadly, it was only because he couldn’t defeat Hjalmar he had to forge it, something in him knowing that his work would have to be completed some other time. And that time is now. So, without further ado, we’d like to give you his final gift.”
This was it. I was going to get the musician’s equivalent of Excalibur or something. A weapon for the ages. The guard stepped forth and offered me the chest, opening it and standing silent as a brilliant radiance shot forth from the box. After a moment, I reached in and pulled out…
A golden microphone and a pair of aviator sunglasses rimmed in diamond with reflective lenses? Really? This was decades of holy, magical, music research distilled down to just this?
“I know that look. You seem skeptical. But if you truly be his reincarnation, if you hold that microphone, put on those glasses, and say the magic phrase, you, too, will believe that whatever is in you will overtake Hjalmar. But it will come at a price, one I’ve already discussed with everyone with me, and one I will have to ask of your band now.”
“A price? I’m not sure if I like where this is going.” I held the equipment tentatively, unsure if this would be worth it.
“Yes. All their levels will drop back down to one, with only knowledge enough to use one instrument or skill of their choosing at minimal competence. But, in return, you will gain all of their skills, all of their points, and are free to allocate it to whatever new skills will be unlocked within you. You will become the ultimate bard, master of all, and with the right plan, using only strength in numbers and your new divine talents, I believe you can ascend to the rank of Heaven’s Raconteur, the only class a Wardancer can change to, and can only unlock with this weapon, named Ysolt, and by chanting the magic phrase ‘Let freedom sing’ into it. But remember its cost...”
I turned to my band, holding my glasses and Ysolt in my hand, and as I was about to open my mouth, they all shook their head.
“You don’t even need to ask us.” Miri went first. “The second we heard the king said that, we all turned to each other and nodded. Some things just need go unspoken. Our eyes said it all. You’re the Wardancer, you’re the Hero, you’re the one who’s sang and danced and lead us all here, and we couldn’t have made it this far without your power. So, if need be, we will drop ourselves down to the bare basics and let you become the legend that will defeat this Hjalmar once and for all.”
“We did say, back when we met, that you were the hero this world deserved, right?” Claire chimed in. “I’m ready to do it. We all are. Even this shitty boy band that tagged along knows they’d be no match, and if they ever want a record deal in Taiyr again, they’ll do as we say.”
I turned and looked everyone in the eye once to be sure. Our gazes were steady, but my eyes were starting to water heavily. All this faith in me, the Wardancer, after so little time. Was this really the power of a leader, a hero? The power of prophecy?
“So, knowing you be him, now a her, and proven yourself well enough, with the power of all your friends in you, will you do what needs to be done and become the light that will drive the darkness out of Melodia once and for all, Atma Weapon?” The king said.
“That’s the first time anyone’s used my full name and not ‘hero’ or ‘Wardancer’ or ‘Atma the Wardancer’ since this quest began...” I sniffled a bit as I put the glasses on, half to get this show on the road and half so nobody would see their brave hero cry. “I know now what I must do, and holding ysolt’s given me all the ideas I need to face Hjalmar. I can hear the old Wardancer’s wisdom in this weapon, and I trust it, if you’ll all trust me.”
And with that, I flicked Ysolt on and put it up to my mouth, standing proud, voice shaking just a bit.
“Let freedom sing!”
As soon as those words left my lips, a massive bolt of light shot out from the whole center of the town, everyone’s energy and knowledge flowing into me at once, almost overloading me, making me kneel as I screamed and cried, not in pain, but in knowing now there was no turning back. After it was all said and done, I stood back up. Everything about me shone a brilliant gold now, my crimsons deeper than ever, my gloves and boots made of metal in heroic designs, my cap now swept back, shawl turning into a full, impressive cape of pure energy, flowing and trickling off from behind me almost like flames into the air, an overwhelming sense of strength and energy, almost limitless stamina to me.
I had become Heaven’s Raconteur.
“Looking good, boss. Almost a bit too heroic, but hey, if we got to put on a show, you’re gonna put on a damn good one.” Shawn laughed.
“Well then..” I stood, Ysolt at my hip like a sword at rest, raising my sunglasses up. “This has given me a wonderful idea. Forget any pre-planned anything. Hjalmar may catch wind of it and make something to beat us to the punch. We march at sundown, so get ready. We need to be at his castle ASAP; I got a surprise waiting for him, as I do all of you. This will give you time to pick your one specialty skill, and while it’ll ultimately be up to you what you’ll go in with me using, may I just recommend one thing?”
I grinned at everyone as I flipped my shades back on.
“Forget about what would be strongest. Just focus on what’ll be coolest.”
I’d spend the rest of the day allocating my new skill points and rearranging my new skill tree in a rather interesting and unorthodox array that would probably make most people playing any game wonder just what the hell this was going to do to help us defeat a final boss. Doing my own pyrotechnics? Special effects? Bizarre genre knowledge choices? No instrument specialty? Going in armed only with Ysolt? Just what was I planning?
I thanked the king and bid him wait for my return and rallied my troops one last time as the sun began to set. Microphone to my lips, I said what I knew would embolden everyone before me.
“To my fellow band, now massive in size. Words cannot express the gratitude I feel knowing you all this hour. You have all come to trust me in so little time to be your leader, your hero, all because prophecy told you to. I took the reins, doubtful, but have found my niche here, and no matter what happens on the stage of battle tomorrow evening, know that we WILL stand tall, we WILL fight, and we WILL win. I am nothing without you all; a lead singer needs her band. All of you will be essential backup. There is no more time for tears, no more time for cowardice, and if anyone wants out now, then stand aside with the king, I will not blame you.”
And for a brief moment, I waited. And nobody stood aside. Not even Gus.
“...And words cannot express what it means to see every one of you all in. It’s all or nothing. We now march on Demon Lord Hjalmar’s castle and shall see him destroyed, erased from Melodia’s history for good. And for the rest of time, may Melodia instead sing the song of Atma Weapon, the reincarnation of the original Wardancer, now Heaven’s Raconteur, and her merry band, until the final sun sets on this glorious land!”
I raised my fist up and cried one last phrase.
“TO VICTORY!”
The crowd roared and cheered as I jumped off stage and went to the front of the pack, leading my band off to the furthest east point of Melodia. The Deadlands. Demon lord Hjalmar’s lair would be reached by dawn, and by next night, gods willing, he would be dead. Our footsteps slowly faded out of Ro’athe and towards the apocalyptic hellscape on the horizon.
I’m a real woman of the waves, Hjalmar. You’ll see.
You’ll all see.