Richard came in again an hour later, fired one last blast of whatever healing spell he was using, and gave me a clean bill of health. I've got to admit, despite being in a small wooden shack with no electrics or modern technology, healthcare here sure beats out what we had back on Earth. Up and about only a day after having half of my body broken into pieces. And to think I disparaged this place so badly back on my first birthday, when I didn't know [Life Mage] was a class. Yay for healing magic...
At some point while I was sleeping, Warren had left and mum had arrived, sitting in a corner with her knitting. Once Richard had declared me healed, she put down her needles. "Let's hurry and get you to safety, little one," she said, standing up.
She still called me that... It's not as if I'm that little anymore. I followed her out of Richard's clinic. I really had to think how to properly thank him for healing me, once this immediate panic was over. If it would ever be over. What if sudden rains of orcs became normal weather around here? In the years since the slime attack, I'd relaxed far too much... I should have spent the time continuing to push myself.
There was a bit of a crowd gathered around our house, along with a horse and cart waiting outside. In the cart was a large object, bundled in cloth. Was I really going to have to share a cart with that? Fortunately, it didn't seem to smell as badly as before. It was still midwinter, after all, and although the weather was good for the time of year, it was still effectively being refrigerated. The horse and cart seemed to be Henry's but Warren was in the driver's seat. Angus was nowhere in sight, probably back in their house. Someone else who was nowhere in sight was Cluma, which was unfortunate. I wanted to check she was okay...
Dad was there, and had already packed my stuff. It looked like I really was setting off right now. I clambered into the cart, and unexpectedly both mum and dad climbed in after me. "You didn't think we would send you off alone, did you?" mum commented in response to my look of surprise.
"I hadn't actually considered it." I really hadn't. Maybe I still wasn't quite awake... Dad had nothing vital to do in the village over the weeks of winter; there were no crops to tend, and the livestock didn't need the attention of the entire village, so of course it was natural that he'd stick with me. Mum's work was more important, but I knew that I came first even so, and she could do at least some work in the cart anyway.
Warren drove the cart out of the village, heading east. Despite the comparatively good weather, the cold soon became biting. The ground was poor in places too, and on more than one occasion we had to lift the cart when it got stuck in mud. My [Strength] proved its use, the boost being enough for my help to be useful.
Skill [Strength] advanced to level 2
Alas, [Strength] did not stack with [Minor Strength]. If I tried both at once, the effect of [Minor Strength] was lost. Something else I hadn't noticed the first time I cast it was that unlike the rank one version, my new and improved spell had visual effects. Faint red glowing lines zigzagged across my body, spreading out from my chest. It looked pretty cool in my opinion, and definitely appealed to my inner child.
We eventually arrived in Dawnhold at a speed at which we could easily have walked. Not that I wanted to have to walk all this way carrying an orc corpse... The streets were quieter here than when I'd last visited, but not completely deserted, the townsfolk hurriedly scurrying from place to place, wrapped up in furs.
We pulled up outside the delvers guild, which I hadn't seen on our first visit. It was a large three story building built away from the town centre. At the end of the street was a large gate set into a wall, the first wall I'd seen in this world that was not a side of a building. I guessed the gate led to the town dungeon, and the guild hall had been built here for its proximity. The wall, while not huge, was still a few meters high, and I could see a staircase leading to the top on this side, so it was obviously there to keep things in, rather than out. It looked like it was there to defend against monsters coming out of the dungeon. Was that even a thing that happened?
We clambered down from the cart and headed towards the building, abandoning the horse and cart. Not to mention the orc corpse... What if someone... No, I'm forgetting that this is a crime free country. The effects of that are considerably more jarring here than they are back in the village, so I had to remind myself that leaving the cart and its contents unattended wasn't going to invite thieves.
We stepped into the building, and I looked around in interest. The room we'd entered was not large. It had a couple of reception desks against the wall facing the doorway, and some seating that was presumably for the people waiting. There was a notice board on one wall, but it was small and only had a few bits of paper stuck to it. It obviously wasn't the stereotypical fantasy world adventurer's guild request board. Maybe that was elsewhere? Or they just didn't have specific requests, and you looted whatever you happened to find from the dungeon?
There was no-one else in the room, leading to us attracting the full attention of the couple of receptionists on duty. One was peering at me; they probably didn't get kids in here often. The other's attention was directed elsewhere, towards our tour guide.
"Warren? This is a surprise."
"Long time no see, but I'm afraid this isn't a social visit. Please let the guild master know there was another attack. An orc this time."
"An attack? What do you mean? Where?"
"He'll know what I mean with just that. Tell him it's me, and that I'm here with the target. He'll probably want to see us immediately, so we'll wait in the bar."
She looked interested in what was going on, but professionally exited through a door behind the counters without further questions. Mum and dad were looking a little lost, but we all followed Warren through an archway in another wall, through which came the sounds of loud conversation and an occasional cheer. Warren led us down a corridor and into a much larger room, filled with wooden tables, benches and stools. A bar took up one whole wall, the wall behind it carrying large barrels and shelves of mugs. There was no glass or china around that I could see. Were they not invented here, too expensive, or just unsuitably fragile for muscle-bound delvers? Plates, bowls and mugs all seemed to be wood instead.
Only a few tables were occupied, but the people that were here seemed loud enough for a hundred. They all looked over at us newcomers, and the noise dropped. Oh? Is this going to be the isekai trope where everyone picks on the new kid trying to join the guild, and tells them to run home to their mummy? Not that it would work; I'm not here trying to join in the first place, and besides, my mum is right here.
"Hey Warren, long time no see! How've you been keeping?"
Guess not; it seems they're all friendly. Warren wandered over to the table that called him, a party of four dogkin, all in the same black leather armour that I'd seen on Xander's team. Seemed like a rather unbalanced party to me, but I didn't really know enough to question it.
"Yo Vyre. Been enjoying my peaceful village life, at least until this guy went and spoilt it."
He thumbed at me, which I felt was not entirely fair. "Oi, I'm not accepting any responsibility. Not all of it, anyway. Maybe twenty percent?"
The other party looked at me with interest, with Vyre wearing an amused grin. "Oh? How so? Did you decide too..."
ding
Skill [Privacy] advanced to level 5
On high alert from my someone-just-appraised-me sensor, I saw the party member with the mug in his hand, a look of surprise spreading across his face. I saw the moment his cheeks started to bulge. I fired [Minor Dexterity] and [Minor Speed] on pure instinct, leaping out of the way with [Far Step] just as a stream of beer was launched through the space I had occupied moments earlier. That dodge was frankly perfect. I so should have got a title for that...
The whole bar fell into silence, with every single patron staring at me. Heck, even the barkeep was staring... At least my dodge got some appreciation, but I could do without the attention please.
Vyre peered at his now slightly beer deprived party member. "You okay over there?"
"The kid's a rank two mage."
"Yeah, I think we all just saw that. Impressive move there, kiddo."
While I was wondering how to respond to that, the receptionist poked her head in and called over to our group. "Warren, you were spot on. The guild master wants to see you immediately."
"Bah, not even time for a drink. Sorry then Vyre, but we need to run."
Ignoring the curious looks of the other bar patrons, we traipsed down a different set of corridors, up a flight of stairs and into an office. It contained a grizzled old man with an impressively bushy beard and almost equally impressive eyebrows. He was sat behind a tidy desk, and the small amount of face that was visible under all the wiry hair was looking distinctly unhappy. Behind him was a wide window, overlooking the dungeon wall, but we weren't high enough up to see over it. One other wall was occupied entirely by bookshelves, and the last largely occupied by an enormous axe that I doubted I would even be able to lift.
"And after all these years, I thought I could forget that whole incident. What happened this time, and why'd you bring a whole family with you?"
Cassian, Dwarf, Axe Lord (?/?)
Oh? He was a dwarf? That explains the facial hair, and [Axe Lord] explains the axe. Aren't dwarfs supposed to be short, though? I suppose it's a little hard to tell with him sitting behind his desk. Maybe he has a little pile of cushions? While I was trying to keep a smirk off my face at the image of a guild master with a booster seat, Warren was the one who replied. "The kid got attacked by an orc."
That statement did not do anything to improve the guild master's unhappiness. "Then I guess I should congratulate you on a job well done, but you're leaving out a rather vital bit of information there. Just how in the blazes did you encounter an orc?"
"Just spawned in the forest, all on its own and almost on top of the kid. No sign of other monsters, nor of a dungeon or mana field. Corpse is out front sitting in a cart if you want to take a look."
With an impressive bang, the guild master slammed his head into his desk. With his face still firmly planted, he mumbled, "when I took this job I thought it would be easy."
"Also, I'm not the one who killed it. The kid did. Mostly."
The face raised a fraction above the desk, a pair of beady eyes peering out at me. "Oh? And if I go look out the front, I'm really going to find an orc, right? Not just a particularly ugly saliazo?"
"I know an orc when I see one. So does he. He has [Appraisal]."
The head plonked back down. "Whatever. Silvanus wanted me to let him know if anything cropped up over there, so I'm going to make all of this his problem. You can stay in one of the dorms here for the night. If you have a cart out front, presumably there's a horse too? I'll get it taken care of."
"Cheers. In that case, I'm gonna go grab some grub."
We all followed Warren back out of the office and downstairs. That was... unproductive. And rather pointless. No-one on our side other than Warren even said a word. And who the heck was Silvanus? Seemed like the guild master here was a bit of a lazy bum, pushing his work onto others. We ended up back at the bar only a few minutes after leaving it, much to the surprise of the other customers.
"You guys want to order anything?"
Dad looked down awkwardly; we didn't exactly have money to spend eating out. Mum seemed less embarrassed about that fact, though. "No thanks. We've got our own that would go to waste if we don't eat it."
"Suit yourself."
We settled at a table as I wondered if Warren had money left from his delving days or if he was being paid for his guard duty. And speaking of being paid, since we were in Dawnhold again, this would be another opportunity to see what I could sell. Hmm... Dad packed my chess set, didn't he?
"Hey, Warren, any friends of yours here who might appreciate an extra point of intelligence?"
And thus it was that a couple of hours later I was completely stuffed, delvers turning out to value a stat gain to at least the cost of a meal. I suggested to the barkeep that he should keep a stockpile of board games to hand and ended up selling my chess set for a second time. Fortunately, this one was a tad higher quality than the last, or else I'd have been too shamed to sell it to be used in such a public setting.
As the day wore on, the bar filled up with delvers coming back from the dungeon. Apparently it was only ten floors deep and a good team could reach the bottom in a single day's work, so camping out in the dungeon was rare. The boss chamber of each floor also had a teleporter back to the top, so those who couldn't make it to the bottom could abort at any point. It truly did seem to be a beginner friendly dungeon, but in that case why did so many people die in it?
Both parents seemed rather overwhelmed, but neither did they want to leave me, so I took it on myself to suggest heading back to our assigned dorm room. Before we made it, we bumped into the receptionist again in the corridor.
"Good timing. Peter, the guild master is calling for you again."
Hmm? I don't recall my name ever being mentioned since we arrived here, aside from some of the bar patrons. I guess [Privacy] can't level every time. This time we were without Warren, which was strange too; he was more our less our assigned minder. Maybe someone else would fetch him before we started?
Warren didn't turn up, but this time there was a second person present in the office. It had been years, but I still recognised him immediately. Why was he here?
Silvanus Reid, Human, Lord of the Fertile Plains (?/?)
Oh, right. Nobles had family names. So he was Silvanus all along, and he wanted to be notified if the village was ever attacked again? Then maybe that was how they knew my name. He looked over at me as we entered.
ding
Skill [Privacy] advanced to level 6
His left eyebrow raised in complete independence of any other part of his face, but he refrained from comment. I really wanted to know if this guy was an enemy or not, but now was not the time for panic. This was the person who had requested delvers be assigned to guard our village after all. Without them I would very likely have bled out in the forest, so I could give him the benefit of doubt for now.
The guild master spoke up first. "We've had our dismantling team autopsy your orc, and it's perfectly normal. Nothing at all unusual about it. Identical in every way to an orc corpse dragged up from a dungeon."
Lord Reid was the next to speak. "I'd like to hear the details of your encounter, but first I must ask: It appears that something wants you dead. Would you happen to have any ideas as to what?"
Yes, I do; whoever is responsible for the brainwashing. But either he's the one responsible, in which case I should feign ignorance, or he isn't, in which case I literally cannot explain to him. But now that he asks the question, I was reminded of an earlier thought...
"I'm not actually convinced that the culprit wants me dead."
Lord Reid's left eyebrow threatened to depart his face completely. "Oh?"
Announcement I've finished uploading the whole story of friendly voidling. I'd appreciate some reviews/critiques of it, particularly in regards to how the style compares to my other stories; I'm trying to decide if I should write more like it. (Unbound soul isn't affected either way; I've got plenty of backlog for that at the moment.)
Richard came in again an hour later, fired one last blast of whatever healing spell he was using, and gave me a clean bill of health. I've got to admit, despite being in a small wooden shack with no electrics or modern technology, healthcare here sure beats out what we had back on Earth. Up and about only a day after having half of my body broken into pieces. And to think I disparaged this place so badly back on my first birthday, when I didn't know [Life Mage] was a class. Yay for healing magic...
At some point while I was sleeping, Warren had left and mum had arrived, sitting in a corner with her knitting. Once Richard had declared me healed, she put down her needles. "Let's hurry and get you to safety, little one," she said, standing up.
She still called me that... It's not as if I'm that little anymore. I followed her out of Richard's clinic. I really had to think how to properly thank him for healing me, once this immediate panic was over. If it would ever be over. What if sudden rains of orcs became normal weather around here? In the years since the slime attack, I'd relaxed far too much... I should have spent the time continuing to push myself.
There was a bit of a crowd gathered around our house, along with a horse and cart waiting outside. In the cart was a large object, bundled in cloth. Was I really going to have to share a cart with that? Fortunately, it didn't seem to smell as badly as before. It was still midwinter, after all, and although the weather was good for the time of year, it was still effectively being refrigerated. The horse and cart seemed to be Henry's but Warren was in the driver's seat. Angus was nowhere in sight, probably back in their house. Someone else who was nowhere in sight was Cluma, which was unfortunate. I wanted to check she was okay...
Dad was there, and had already packed my stuff. It looked like I really was setting off right now. I clambered into the cart, and unexpectedly both mum and dad climbed in after me. "You didn't think we would send you off alone, did you?" mum commented in response to my look of surprise.
"I hadn't actually considered it." I really hadn't. Maybe I still wasn't quite awake... Dad had nothing vital to do in the village over the weeks of winter; there were no crops to tend, and the livestock didn't need the attention of the entire village, so of course it was natural that he'd stick with me. Mum's work was more important, but I knew that I came first even so, and she could do at least some work in the cart anyway.
Warren drove the cart out of the village, heading east. Despite the comparatively good weather, the cold soon became biting. The ground was poor in places too, and on more than one occasion we had to lift the cart when it got stuck in mud. My [Strength] proved its use, the boost being enough for my help to be useful.
Skill [Strength] advanced to level 2
Alas, [Strength] did not stack with [Minor Strength]. If I tried both at once, the effect of [Minor Strength] was lost. Something else I hadn't noticed the first time I cast it was that unlike the rank one version, my new and improved spell had visual effects. Faint red glowing lines zigzagged across my body, spreading out from my chest. It looked pretty cool in my opinion, and definitely appealed to my inner child.
We eventually arrived in Dawnhold at a speed at which we could easily have walked. Not that I wanted to have to walk all this way carrying an orc corpse... The streets were quieter here than when I'd last visited, but not completely deserted, the townsfolk hurriedly scurrying from place to place, wrapped up in furs.
We pulled up outside the delvers guild, which I hadn't seen on our first visit. It was a large three story building built away from the town centre. At the end of the street was a large gate set into a wall, the first wall I'd seen in this world that was not a side of a building. I guessed the gate led to the town dungeon, and the guild hall had been built here for its proximity. The wall, while not huge, was still a few meters high, and I could see a staircase leading to the top on this side, so it was obviously there to keep things in, rather than out. It looked like it was there to defend against monsters coming out of the dungeon. Was that even a thing that happened?
We clambered down from the cart and headed towards the building, abandoning the horse and cart. Not to mention the orc corpse... What if someone... No, I'm forgetting that this is a crime free country. The effects of that are considerably more jarring here than they are back in the village, so I had to remind myself that leaving the cart and its contents unattended wasn't going to invite thieves.
We stepped into the building, and I looked around in interest. The room we'd entered was not large. It had a couple of reception desks against the wall facing the doorway, and some seating that was presumably for the people waiting. There was a notice board on one wall, but it was small and only had a few bits of paper stuck to it. It obviously wasn't the stereotypical fantasy world adventurer's guild request board. Maybe that was elsewhere? Or they just didn't have specific requests, and you looted whatever you happened to find from the dungeon?
There was no-one else in the room, leading to us attracting the full attention of the couple of receptionists on duty. One was peering at me; they probably didn't get kids in here often. The other's attention was directed elsewhere, towards our tour guide.
"Warren? This is a surprise."
"Long time no see, but I'm afraid this isn't a social visit. Please let the guild master know there was another attack. An orc this time."
"An attack? What do you mean? Where?"
"He'll know what I mean with just that. Tell him it's me, and that I'm here with the target. He'll probably want to see us immediately, so we'll wait in the bar."
She looked interested in what was going on, but professionally exited through a door behind the counters without further questions. Mum and dad were looking a little lost, but we all followed Warren through an archway in another wall, through which came the sounds of loud conversation and an occasional cheer. Warren led us down a corridor and into a much larger room, filled with wooden tables, benches and stools. A bar took up one whole wall, the wall behind it carrying large barrels and shelves of mugs. There was no glass or china around that I could see. Were they not invented here, too expensive, or just unsuitably fragile for muscle-bound delvers? Plates, bowls and mugs all seemed to be wood instead.
Only a few tables were occupied, but the people that were here seemed loud enough for a hundred. They all looked over at us newcomers, and the noise dropped. Oh? Is this going to be the isekai trope where everyone picks on the new kid trying to join the guild, and tells them to run home to their mummy? Not that it would work; I'm not here trying to join in the first place, and besides, my mum is right here.
"Hey Warren, long time no see! How've you been keeping?"
Guess not; it seems they're all friendly. Warren wandered over to the table that called him, a party of four dogkin, all in the same black leather armour that I'd seen on Xander's team. Seemed like a rather unbalanced party to me, but I didn't really know enough to question it.
"Yo Vyre. Been enjoying my peaceful village life, at least until this guy went and spoilt it."
He thumbed at me, which I felt was not entirely fair. "Oi, I'm not accepting any responsibility. Not all of it, anyway. Maybe twenty percent?"
The other party looked at me with interest, with Vyre wearing an amused grin. "Oh? How so? Did you decide too..."
ding
Skill [Privacy] advanced to level 5
On high alert from my someone-just-appraised-me sensor, I saw the party member with the mug in his hand, a look of surprise spreading across his face. I saw the moment his cheeks started to bulge. I fired [Minor Dexterity] and [Minor Speed] on pure instinct, leaping out of the way with [Far Step] just as a stream of beer was launched through the space I had occupied moments earlier. That dodge was frankly perfect. I so should have got a title for that...
The whole bar fell into silence, with every single patron staring at me. Heck, even the barkeep was staring... At least my dodge got some appreciation, but I could do without the attention please.
Vyre peered at his now slightly beer deprived party member. "You okay over there?"
"The kid's a rank two mage."
"Yeah, I think we all just saw that. Impressive move there, kiddo."
While I was wondering how to respond to that, the receptionist poked her head in and called over to our group. "Warren, you were spot on. The guild master wants to see you immediately."
"Bah, not even time for a drink. Sorry then Vyre, but we need to run."
Ignoring the curious looks of the other bar patrons, we traipsed down a different set of corridors, up a flight of stairs and into an office. It contained a grizzled old man with an impressively bushy beard and almost equally impressive eyebrows. He was sat behind a tidy desk, and the small amount of face that was visible under all the wiry hair was looking distinctly unhappy. Behind him was a wide window, overlooking the dungeon wall, but we weren't high enough up to see over it. One other wall was occupied entirely by bookshelves, and the last largely occupied by an enormous axe that I doubted I would even be able to lift.
"And after all these years, I thought I could forget that whole incident. What happened this time, and why'd you bring a whole family with you?"
Cassian, Dwarf, Axe Lord (?/?)
Oh? He was a dwarf? That explains the facial hair, and [Axe Lord] explains the axe. Aren't dwarfs supposed to be short, though? I suppose it's a little hard to tell with him sitting behind his desk. Maybe he has a little pile of cushions? While I was trying to keep a smirk off my face at the image of a guild master with a booster seat, Warren was the one who replied. "The kid got attacked by an orc."
That statement did not do anything to improve the guild master's unhappiness. "Then I guess I should congratulate you on a job well done, but you're leaving out a rather vital bit of information there. Just how in the blazes did you encounter an orc?"
"Just spawned in the forest, all on its own and almost on top of the kid. No sign of other monsters, nor of a dungeon or mana field. Corpse is out front sitting in a cart if you want to take a look."
With an impressive bang, the guild master slammed his head into his desk. With his face still firmly planted, he mumbled, "when I took this job I thought it would be easy."
"Also, I'm not the one who killed it. The kid did. Mostly."
The face raised a fraction above the desk, a pair of beady eyes peering out at me. "Oh? And if I go look out the front, I'm really going to find an orc, right? Not just a particularly ugly saliazo?"
"I know an orc when I see one. So does he. He has [Appraisal]."
The head plonked back down. "Whatever. Silvanus wanted me to let him know if anything cropped up over there, so I'm going to make all of this his problem. You can stay in one of the dorms here for the night. If you have a cart out front, presumably there's a horse too? I'll get it taken care of."
"Cheers. In that case, I'm gonna go grab some grub."
We all followed Warren back out of the office and downstairs. That was... unproductive. And rather pointless. No-one on our side other than Warren even said a word. And who the heck was Silvanus? Seemed like the guild master here was a bit of a lazy bum, pushing his work onto others. We ended up back at the bar only a few minutes after leaving it, much to the surprise of the other customers.
"You guys want to order anything?"
Dad looked down awkwardly; we didn't exactly have money to spend eating out. Mum seemed less embarrassed about that fact, though. "No thanks. We've got our own that would go to waste if we don't eat it."
"Suit yourself."
We settled at a table as I wondered if Warren had money left from his delving days or if he was being paid for his guard duty. And speaking of being paid, since we were in Dawnhold again, this would be another opportunity to see what I could sell. Hmm... Dad packed my chess set, didn't he?
"Hey, Warren, any friends of yours here who might appreciate an extra point of intelligence?"
And thus it was that a couple of hours later I was completely stuffed, delvers turning out to value a stat gain to at least the cost of a meal. I suggested to the barkeep that he should keep a stockpile of board games to hand and ended up selling my chess set for a second time. Fortunately, this one was a tad higher quality than the last, or else I'd have been too shamed to sell it to be used in such a public setting.
As the day wore on, the bar filled up with delvers coming back from the dungeon. Apparently it was only ten floors deep and a good team could reach the bottom in a single day's work, so camping out in the dungeon was rare. The boss chamber of each floor also had a teleporter back to the top, so those who couldn't make it to the bottom could abort at any point. It truly did seem to be a beginner friendly dungeon, but in that case why did so many people die in it?
Both parents seemed rather overwhelmed, but neither did they want to leave me, so I took it on myself to suggest heading back to our assigned dorm room. Before we made it, we bumped into the receptionist again in the corridor.
"Good timing. Peter, the guild master is calling for you again."
Hmm? I don't recall my name ever being mentioned since we arrived here, aside from some of the bar patrons. I guess [Privacy] can't level every time. This time we were without Warren, which was strange too; he was more our less our assigned minder. Maybe someone else would fetch him before we started?
Warren didn't turn up, but this time there was a second person present in the office. It had been years, but I still recognised him immediately. Why was he here?
Silvanus Reid, Human, Lord of the Fertile Plains (?/?)
Oh, right. Nobles had family names. So he was Silvanus all along, and he wanted to be notified if the village was ever attacked again? Then maybe that was how they knew my name. He looked over at me as we entered.
ding
Skill [Privacy] advanced to level 6
His left eyebrow raised in complete independence of any other part of his face, but he refrained from comment. I really wanted to know if this guy was an enemy or not, but now was not the time for panic. This was the person who had requested delvers be assigned to guard our village after all. Without them I would very likely have bled out in the forest, so I could give him the benefit of doubt for now.
The guild master spoke up first. "We've had our dismantling team autopsy your orc, and it's perfectly normal. Nothing at all unusual about it. Identical in every way to an orc corpse dragged up from a dungeon."
Lord Reid was the next to speak. "I'd like to hear the details of your encounter, but first I must ask: It appears that something wants you dead. Would you happen to have any ideas as to what?"
Yes, I do; whoever is responsible for the brainwashing. But either he's the one responsible, in which case I should feign ignorance, or he isn't, in which case I literally cannot explain to him. But now that he asks the question, I was reminded of an earlier thought...
"I'm not actually convinced that the culprit wants me dead."
Lord Reid's left eyebrow threatened to depart his face completely. "Oh?"
Announcement I've finished uploading the whole story of friendly voidling. I'd appreciate some reviews/critiques of it, particularly in regards to how the style compares to my other stories; I'm trying to decide if I should write more like it. (Unbound soul isn't affected either way; I've got plenty of backlog for that at the moment.)