BECMI Chapter 75 – Running Simulations

“The champion of the raiders was a powerful orcish berserker, and he drew close enough to inflict some severe damage upon me with his allies,” Wonabelle the Simulacrum confirmed, an air of disappointment in herself apparent. “I should have retreated by flying and lured them away, but foolishly chose to stand my ground. My combat abilities are not as good as I thought they were, particularly without the equipment of Prime.”

“Forgive me for directness, but Belle has not struck me as someone with a great deal of violent combat practice?” I inquired of her as we headed deeper into the Erewahr Tree Palace, situated among the branches of a towering hlatal tree of magical size and strength.

“That is true,” her Sim agreed. “Much of our role has been in support, healing, returning the dead, and so forth, not in direct combat with our enemies. We are eager to see what will happen with this venture of yours!”

“We should be back shortly with significant upgrades you will enjoy. I expect that fight to be very different in the future,” I told her.

“Oh, we can be improved?” She was naturally unaware of that.

“Your prime need only recast the spell and it will update to the latest paradigm base,” I informed her. “Your prime has many more of you to create, but the reagents for your base shell are expensive, as you know.”

“They are,” she agreed. “Devising ways to pay for ourselves and our sisters is one of our jobs. Although I understand that you have some extraordinary funding sources!”

“Time is an extraordinary thing to be able to leverage,” I answered. “Is she ready?”

“She has been for some time. The recent unpleasantness has been quite stressful, even if it was the finest political coup for Erendyl in over a century. She has never had a true vacation, and the fact she will not actually be gone very long is very tantalizing. She hopes to do many things in the legendary past!” Wona said excitedly.

“On that we are in agreement.”

She was escorting me to the Princess’s personal chambers, bowing me off once we arrived before walking off back to her crafting chores.

The goal for Wona was to add at least a score more magical Bows to the arsenal of Erendyl per year, which would add up to a significant number over time, earning the gold and components to do so herself, while also still being available for emergency spellcasting.

Belle could have up to twenty active Simulacra. She was looking forward to quietly getting them all into action.

I was shown into her chambers, and blinked, almost mistaking the elfin waiting there in leathers and light mail for a personal ranger and agent of the Princess before I realized who it was.

Belle had tied her waist-length golden hair up in tight braids, and the armor looked properly worn and maintained, not taken off a hook brand-new and brought out for play-acting. It was clearly fit for her, although new enough that the number of times that she had been allowed to wear it was clearly not many.

She turned to look at me expectantly, raising an eyebrow when she saw me in my normal red and black skirts and blouse. I certainly wasn’t wearing a bow and quiver, longsword and dagger, small shield, or a purse that was a disguised Bag of Holding at her side.

“I am always ready,” I informed her, my dress swirling and restyling itself to much less poof and lacy frills and rippling skirts, turning into a form-fitting black and dark crimson attire which my white skin stood out rather starkly against, sweeping hair receding back to a neck-length cut in artful fashion, the sum total of which rather looked like a stylish assassin out to duel someone to death. Even my wide hat narrowed down to a slimmer Stetson long-brim style with a bright red feather, just for contrast.

“Of course you are ready. My apologies. Shall we go?” she asked, smiling and extending her hand.

Her trust in me and my unorthodox ways had soared after the annexing of the Highwall Duchy to Erendyl, especially when the deal for Duke Enzefi I’d had her sign had wound up in the Tax Bureau for decades, and all tests had proven it to be the original and perfectly valid this whole time.

Careful use of Time was an awesome tool in the arsenal of the elves, and the fact they had the longest lives and thus memories of all the races made it plain that there were a great number of opportunities waiting for those who were careful, and not too greedy.

“Of course.” I took her hand in my own, the went off, and we went winging across space to just outside the field around the Thisbean Inn, a little nook in a stone protrusion that gave no indication of its use.

Trying to follow us via was going to redirect that person several thousand feet down and sideways, where they could determine if falling into a lava pool via a chute was a destination they wanted to repeat… if they lived.

I advanced into the illusion, dragging her along with me so there would be no awkward hesitation as we stepped into a jutting mound of rock that wasn’t there, and the Inn and its new yard was revealed for us.

Everyone else was there waiting for us expectantly. It was time for some high adventure in the past, and everything I’d learned in Darkmoor dealing with the king and his friends indicated there was a whole lot of activity to take advantage of.

A lot of names had been bandied about by my followers, but of the alternatives I’d given them, they’d ultimately settled on The Free Company. They wouldn’t be operating under that name together for a bit, but it gave them a cohesive identity to get behind.

Everyone fell in behind us, the Luswyr elves forming an honor guard for the Princess. She had brought none of her own people under my insistence, as I didn’t trust the vagaries of the Time Loop to someone who hadn’t actually traveled it. Having to locate someone who vanished in transit somewhere in the past or near future would have been most annoying.

We were only going to be gone minutes, and Cirruluxul had opted to remain behind this time… although she had also said that if we were going to spend over a year, to return and bring her along, as she would try using that time in a humanoid form to her advantage, not claiming any draconic rights in the past that might prove untenable and attract attention from dragon component hunters.

My own Sims could hold the fort down for the few minutes required, if nothing else simply barring the door with a or something similar long enough for us to return.

We drew up before the Portal, everyone expectant as we considered it, the horrors we had already lived through there, and now, the hopes we had coming for it.

“Of our own free will, we head into the past to see what our future holds! Let us see what free will can change of what we know happened, and what awaits us! Believe in me, and I shall believe in you!”

The shouts in return weren’t quite so grim as they had once been. I took Oswald Brandybuck’s hand as I said, “Get in formation!” Hands clasped shoulders and belts. “We go!”

And into the Portal back to Darkmoor we headed.

I hadn’t wasted much time. As I’d promised King Antius, I came back exactly ten minutes after I’d last left, leading my Free Company sans dragon with me. When I told him that it had been nearly two months since I had last seen him, he almost fell out of his chair.

That said, I had already made a number of preliminary moves in this time, in particular related to training.

This was a martial company, which meant pursuing Weapon Mastery was incredibly important. In normal circumstances, it would also have been incredibly expensive, but the King of Darkmoor gave us access to incredibly gifted instructors, with the King himself being the most famous master of the sword in all the North. He made up for his rather average physical abilities by being ranked as a Grandmaster of the Sword, a skill-set massively respected by the elves and several of the humans of my Company.

The barbarian warrior Skarvald, on the other hand, was also one of the finest axe-masters in all of Iberon, if not a Grandmaster, and proved grudgingly willing to instruct the Northmen of my company in its use.

Guyven and Buck had used the last few months to travel back to Federyn and arrange for their own tutors in dagger-work, shortswords, and rapiers, of which there were a fair number in Federyn City.

The Azure Knight was a master of the lance and spear, in turn, and the men were also happy to labor under his instructions… and he also oversaw their training in basic horsemanship.

“You do indeed have an interesting steed, Sir Azure,” I noted, as our spears whirled and clacked, crashing against one another with speed and surety.

My Staff and Spear skills were basically one and the same, tied together with the Sun Dragon and. Sir Azure had been absolutely delighted to learn some of the Sun Techniques, especially the which was wonderful for a charging knight, and equally good at stopping a charging knight.

He was still my superior in combat, an Eighteen Fighter with experience and skill, although not much experience against foes of similar skill. He quite enjoyed our sparring as a result, as I was by far the most adept spear (and staff, and open hand…) -wielder of the Company.

His mount was standing motionless over by the fence of the training area. It was a magnificent heavy warhorse, towering over a normal horse, radiating strength, speed, power, and toughness no normal horse could possibly match.

It was polished blue and made of steel with visible gears, too.

“You do not seem unduly surprised, Lady Edge!” he laughed, breaking into a series of lightning thrusts I swatted aside quickly as I danced backwards easily.

“That is because it is a Vehrenschult Industries Model Warhoof Destrier.” I had a clear record of it in the database from the I possessed. “I have seen records of them before.”

He was distracted, so I swirled between staff and spear forms, cracking away his haft and unleashing a mix of jabs and swats that had him retreating back in good order as my blows rang out against his polished blue Armor.

“I gained it after a riddle contest with a great golden dragon in the depths of Darkmoor Castle’s infamous Dungeon!” he reaffirmed to me, somewhat abashed at the fact. The tales were that delving into the Dungeon had actually resulted in the sack of the city at one point, as all the most skilled defenders were instead Dungeon-diving! “You are extraordinarily traveled, Lady Edge! I have never met anyone who has seen something similar!”

“Clockwork steeds aren’t unknown where I hail from, although finding a fusion-powered robotic steed of that level of quality is clearly a surprising find,” I admitted, while we circled and flickered fluidly through feints and crashing haft-blocks. He was surprised at my strength, given he outweighed me at least two to one, especially with his Armor on, but I had no problem dealing with the force of his blows.

Brittabelle had quietly begun her upgrades to her physical Stats. Not having to hoard her magic here and conserve it in case of danger, she was spending all her IX Valences on upgrading herself every day. It was only three a day, but it meant that in time she could upgrade herself to what was basically a Nogged perfect Stat line. It was going to take her months, of course, but I’d told her plainly that we would not be going home until she had maxed out her Stats and her One a Day improvements.