Illegal Alien in a MMO World

It felt like I’d only just shut my eyes when the wake up call came softly knocking at my door. Much to my own personal dismay, I think I’m starting to get used to rough awakening after restless rests.

Not. 

Roxi and I had wasted much time taking our supper after the Duchess left and had quickly as possibly returned to our rooms to get as much sleep as we could fit in what was left of our three hours.

Which for me didn’t feel like much. I’d awoken dry mouthed and dehydrated, with a dull headache and somehow feeling more exhausted than before our so called rest, but it was time to go. As soon as we were dressed and with packs on, the maid who’d woken us led us across the Palace and up to the top of the largest of its towers, the Roost. 

I guess I should call it a blessing that upon emerging up into that stable-cum-rookery, I was swiftly brought to full awakeness and energized by the freezing night air.

Built atop a Palace’s tallest, widest and most central tower, the Rookery was a construction of wood and slate shingles that took up roughly two thirds of the tower's fifty or sixty foot diameter leaving the remaining third free for take offs and landings. Excluding the large opening to the landing space, surrounding the central stair down into the tower on one side was a large hay filled space lining the Roost’s circumference. On the other side fenced off by a riveted iron wrought lattice and gate was a collection of saddles and tack hanging from fittings along the Roost’s wall.

Suspiciously the iron lattice had wear that looked as if it had been chewed on by large animals with sharp teeth and strong jaws.

And it was pretty obvious what had done the chewing, I recognised the creatures from when they flew over us back when we first arrived in the valley. I was finally able to get a closer look at the previously mentioned Blaiddwyvens. 

They resembled large white wolf-like creatures whose shoulder’s reached my ears, with large ice blue bat-like wings set above their forelegs that could be tucked into their sides. Not to mention their trio of black leathery tails that ended with curved spikes that looked like they were designed to whip and flay its prey as it swooped down on them. One was lazing on the bed of hay watching us with a single open eye and outside in the landing area five more were saddled and waiting with a group of people.

Stepping out to meet the waiting party, I could see there were five knights armored in riding leathers augmented with the barest minimum of blue painted armored plates in key areas. In front of the Knights was a commanding looking woman wearing a more ornate version of the same armor with acid blued steel plates instead of paint and trimmed with gold. Then there was the Duchess looking more prim and regal than I had yet seen her. 

She’d managed to change since we saw her last.

“Ah, you are here now,” the Duchess greeted, turning away from the commanding Lady Knight she was idly chatting with. “Good we’re still on time, that will keep Mair happy. She doesn’t want her Knight’s flying over enemy lines during daylight.”

Seeing the lack of recognition at the name she had dropped, the Duchess raised a hand to mouth to cover it as if she had uttered some faux pas. 

“Oh! While I might have mentioned her previously in your presence I have not introduced you yet. I apologise, that was remiss of me,” she stated decorously. “It is an honor to introduce you to my friend the Lady Knight Commander of the Order of the Clouded Peak Blaiddwyven Knights, Mair Beynon. Mair, I give you my guests and new agents of my will Aisling Mistmirror of Spot and Roxadice, Umbrial Priestess of Ruin.”

”Hi,” I squeaked, not knowing the proper response, earning me a snicker from Roxi.

“Greetings,” the Knight Commander cast an appraising eye our way, before giving a barely perceptible nod of what I hoped was approval. “It’s never boring to see the latest object that’s caught Cerys’ attention or or gained her trust, I’ll be watching to see what feats you manage you pull off.”

“Not sure you’ll measure up to her favorite Elixatmael,” she chuckled. “Regardless of any heroics, I doubt you’ll be as entertaining at the very least. Anyway, enough time wasting. My knight’s will be flying you to an out of the way spot in the Barony of Haverhill, a day out from the city of Port Marchnad. They will then immediately leave you to return here before dawn.”

Lady Mair had barely finished speaking when the scuffing of boots on stone drew my attention away from her.

An eighth figure I hadn’t noticed up till now partially backed out from behind the Knights and Blaiddwyven. The little I could see revealed a short figure about my height wearing stout leather boots, loose fitting storm grey canvas pants that were pulled tight around their calves by the leather straps of armored plates, a weathered black hooded cloak that hid their head and everything down to the back of their knees, and hanging diagonally down their back was a sword almost as tall as they were.

A silver tail’s tip poked out it’s way out from behind their cloak, before retreating just as quick.

“You as excited to get back into the thick of it as I am?” the figure asked, turning around to face us with a grin.

“Gael!?” Roxi and I both simultaneously blurted out. Gone was the pristine maid’s usual outfit, replaced with worn looking merc clothes made of an effective looking mix of rough cloth, leather and armor plates that had been painted a dark grey to not give away her position. 

“The one and only. I would have thought at least you Aisling wouldn’t be so surprised to see me like this. You and I might clean up nice, but you don’t survive lives like we have or as long as we have without going a little feral,” she smiled, flashing her teeth in a threatening manner.

Focusing next on Roxi, Gael pulled her cloak aside to show part of her massive sword. “You didn’t think the Duchess would send you into danger without sending someone to guide you and protect her investment, did ya?”

Still looking a little shell shocked at the reveal of the maid’s alter ego, Roxi managed only a nod. 

“I thought she’d been joking when she acted and made references like a foul mouthed mercenary,” she muttered under her breath to me. Oh right, Roxi hadn’t been there when Gael told me about her past. 

“If El hadn’t been needed elsewhere she probably would’ve sent them with you, but given that lack and the way Blue here and I bonded, she decided to send me. Couldn’t have chosen any better in my opinion. Even El doesn’t know his way around all the mud, deathtraps, shitholes and dives on this Island like I do,” she bragged.

“It’s a good thing dear Enfys isn’t here to hear her adopted daughter swearing like a sailor, Gael Eiriol

Silvertail. She would hate to see all those lessons she gave you on how to act and speak in civilized society going to waste,” Cerys smirked, her eyes wickedly gleaming with amusement.

A look of remembered disgust twisted Gael’s features and sent her ears into a flutter of twitches.

“Whoever first thought of using soap as punishment obviously had a fucked up hobby as a torturing serial killer on the side,” the maid mercenary swore, before proceeding to lob a wad of spit over the towers' battlements.

“As amusing as I am finding all of this,” the Knight commander interrupted, one-handedly gesturing at us all. “The night’s dark is wasting. There are three of you and I have five knights and five wolf wyverns. You’ll each be riding behind one of my knights, there are leather straps for your legs and waist to prevent my knights from having to perform an aerial recovery if you fall or slide off. Your packs will be taken by the other two knights. My knights will get you and your gear strapped in before mounting themselves.”

“Come on! Get moving!” she ordered clapping her hands, barely seconds after her speech.

At her signal, the Duchess stepped backwards out of the way and a confused shuffle ensued as we made our way for the Blaiddwyverns and the knights offered their assistance with our packs and our cautious attempts to climb onto our mounts. Look, you try climbing onto a beast that looks like a dire wolf with three flesh flaying whips for a tail and not feel any apprehension or fear.

Eventually we all did manage to get aboard our wolf wyverns and strapped in, but it wasn’t any process I would go into details describing. That said, farewells are kinda awkward when you’re strapped down to the saddle of a large beast, twisting around to see who you’re talking to because they are off to the side and facing forwards your nose, only three inches at most from the back of the knight in front of you. 

Not to mention the smell of beast and rider… 

“I expect you all back alive regardless of what you find, I command it. Good luck, stay safe and fly now with my blessing,” Cerys Blaiddcalon the Duchess of Parcosia ordered, before we rose into the night with a jolt as the Blaiddwyvern’s wings tore them free from the ground’s hold.

Our halt in Santarriral was over.