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Board & Conquest 3: First Steps
🕑 Added 2024-12-03 09:53:01 +0000 UTC-------
After returning to the village and counting their losses, Victoire thought this battle could have been far worse.
The magmorians had burned a few houses to ashes and damaged others, but most remained standing. The miraculous rain had extinguished the flames early enough. Marron had unfortunately perished from a blow to the head, but both Bernard and Guillaume would see their wounds treated by Alpine and Mistouffe. The massacre Victoire feared hadn’t come to pass and the people had been allowed to return to their home.
Most had spent the better part of the hour staring up at their savior.
Victoire looked up to Montfroid Peak. The so-called wolf-god who had saved Narc from utter destruction no longer projected his face on the clouds, but his statue continued to loom over the region from its icy throne. Many of the village’s werelings were busy prostrating themselves in prayer before it, and the rest argued over what its apparition meant for them.
Victoire herself wasn’t sure what to make of this. The Glarmes had raised her in the Sacred Source’s faith, but she had left both her order and god behind long ago. Neither had she seen the Source blast a magmorian dead when asked to do so. This entity was altogether different from a silent and invisible deity; a tangible power whose existence was impossible to refute.
“Milady, do you think he…” Filou cleared his throat. “That he could be Grand-Loup himself?”
“Grand-Loup?” Victoire asked, having heard a few villagers mention that name during their prayers. The werelings’ faith remained foreign to her.
“The wolf god of war and winter,” Filou answered with a fearful look at the statue. “My… my mother used to say Grand-Loup would eat me if I disobeyed her.”
“He called himself Wepwawet, son of Set and Nephthys.” Whoever those were. “But he’s called himself a god and wolf-lord, so maybe people simply forgot his true name?”
“D-do you think he’ll be mad about it?” The sound of a door opening behind them caused Filou to bolt to the side in panic. “Ah!”
Victoire turned her head to look at Narc’s inn. Its owner Alpine, a tall and thick weregoat matron, walked out of it with sweat dripping down her white fur and black horns.
“Oh, I’m sorry Filou,” she apologized with a kind and soothing voice. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“So?” Victoire asked. As the town’s only healer, she had been in charge of treating the wounded.
“Bernard and Guillaume will live,” Alpine confirmed. “Thank goodness Mistouffe kept a stash of healing herbs for emergencies.”
“That’s a relief,” Victoire said with a lighter heart. She was especially happy for Guillaume. His wife had just given birth, and now his daughter would have a chance to grow up with a father. “That was a close call.”
“There wouldn’t have been a call at all without you two… and Grand-Loup.” Alpine joined her hands and looked up at the statue. “Has he spoken to you again?”
“He has been silent for the past hour,” Victoire replied. She had no idea if the ‘god’ would address them again. For all she knew, saving Narc had been a one-time miracle. “We should work to rebuild and reinforce the walls in the meantime. The magmorians might have more raiders in the area.”
“Do you think they’ll come back, milady?” Filou asked in utter disbelief. “After that crushing defeat?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to take the risk.” Victoire’s jaw clenched in frustration. “I’d heard they had already taken over other mining sites and villages to the south, but if they’re willing to send scouts so far north then it’s only a matter of time before they expand into the region. Even Roynimalia might be in danger.”
Was that the reason why this Wepwawet arrived? He did call himself the Protector of the Kind, and the way his statue pointed south reminded her of a vigil watching for the enemy.
What could such a powerful and wise entity be thinking about right now?
—--
This was bad, bad, bad!
After spending the last hour trying to contact the Nexus through all possible channels and checking all System settings, Wepwawet was forced to concede defeat. He was now trapped in the world of Elphion without any form of backup or way to contact the heavens. Worst of all, if his Idol was destroyed while he lacked a connection to the Nexus then it might take centuries for his godly essence to find its way back and reform there.
Someone sabotaged his incarnation, maybe even the entire System’s implementation.
Could it have been those tricksters Anansi and Sun Wukong? Or that bastard Horus? It would have been their style and a good way to penalize the competition, but Wepwawet doubted any of them had the insider knowledge required to do that. None of them would risk Miss Athena’s wrath upon discovery.
Wepwawet could think of a more likely and far more dangerous culprit.
This is the titans’ doing. The more Wepwawet thought about it, the more he grew convinced of it. His father had warned him that they would do everything they could to stack the deck in their favor. They were playing for keeps. Am I the only one affected? Or are Ganesha and Artemis in the same boat?
Wepwawet needed to find a way to contact his friends, but his current situation and set of Miracles greatly limited his options. His fellow gods could be half a world away for all he knew; not to mention that his mission hadn’t changed. Wepwawet still had a duty to protect this world and guide his assigned civilization to greatness, especially since the titans would likely try to capitalize on his temporary weakness. He could already hear prayers sent his way, though these people called him ‘Grand-Loup’ instead.
It didn’t surprise him much. Mortals had a pathological need to believe in something or someone, whether it was money, gods, or even science. When no real god would answer their prayers, they simply invented imaginary ones. New gods were usually sent to civilizations adapted to their personality or culture. Considering almost all his new worshipers appeared to belong to a species of anthropomorphic animal besieged by southern invaders, he had the feeling he would fit right in.
At least my godly interface works normally, Wepwawet thought as he opened it and checked his resources. Let’s check and see if anything has changed since I arrived.
Wepwawet did notice a small change in his Miracles: namely, Longstrider I was supposed to raise a unit’s Movement instead of their Agility. His cards had already begun adapting to this new System. The standard sucked, but at least Wepwawet would be able to use any of them at will outside of an official Board & Conquest challenge.
Unless…
Having already used Smite three times today, Wepwawet attempted to use it a fourth time on a desolate spot outside the village. His magic refused to materialize, confirming his suspicions.
You can only use a given Miracle card once per day.
Curses, I wasted all three Smite cards on mooks! Wepwawet doubted the magmorians would come back within the day after their crushing defeat, but he would have to use his offensive miracles with parsimony from now on to fend off surprise attacks. That restriction is new too.
Wepwawet felt like a player starting a new game on hard mode with an inaccurate manual.
Wepwawet reviewed his old lessons. His idol sat atop a leyline and should provide him with a point of mana every day or so, but the amount of energy he could draw from it varied depending on the number of worshipers within its influence. Less than ten believers would hardly give him a paltry bonus point a day; eleven to fifty would provide two; and so on.
Most importantly, they had to be true worshipers. People had to do more than recognize Wepwawet’s existence; they had to have faith in his power enough to offer prayers, pay tribute, or fulfill group rituals such as mass. It didn’t matter whether or not they expected a reward in return for these acts, or whether a person venerated more than one deity at once. Only sincerity, zeal, and earnestness mattered. Wepwawet sensed forty-five souls within his new village, but less than half counted as worshipers.
Were they… doubting him?
Wepwawet anxiously eavesdropped on his people to hear what they had to say about him. He only did that because he wanted to be a better god to them of course, and not because of a sudden sense of nagging insecurity.
“I imagined Grand-Loup to be… fiercer, I suppose?” “Filou exaggerated everything. That wererabbit is afraid of his own shadow.” “Oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods he’s going to eat us raw and steal our women!” “I tell you, that whole giant statue thing… he’s compensating for something. He reeks of daddy issues.”
W-Who said that?! Who dared to say that?! Wepwawet immediately identified the slanderous bastard, one vile anthropomorphic penguin called Marcel. His very name oozed blasphemy! You’ve made a powerful enemy today!
Half this village doubted his divinity or weren’t entirely sold on his protection yet. Wepwawet would need to impress and convert them. No good general could win a war with soldiers low on morale.
A wiser god than Wepwawet would have likely waited for his new congregation to exit the mine before summoning the rain clouds to extinguish the flames. He didn’t regret saving these people’s homes, but he would have to choose his next miracles wisely. Each of them cost as much mana as their rank, and while standard cards were all Rank 1, he would struggle to quickly replenish his reserve.
Wepwawet was considering how to proceed when a set of System notifications filled his mind.
New Quest: The Heavenly Pack I
Recruit your first Champion.
Reward: Ritual Miracle.
New Quest: Proselytism I
Convert at least 100 worshipers.
Reward: Doctrine Miracle.
New Quest: Land of the Faithful I
Build a new Altar atop a mana leyline.
Reward: Animism Miracle.
New Quest: Magic Hoarder
Fill up your entire mana reserve.
Reward: Prophecy Miracle.
New Quest: A Town of Plenty
Restore Narc to its former glory and more.
Reward: Revelation Miracle.
New Quest: Relic Hunt I
Acquire and bless a unique relic of cultural significance.
Reward: Artifact Miracle.
Those were the beginner System quests Miss Athena taught his class about. Fulfilling any of them would grant him a new Miracle and would open the path to more quests. None of them would solve his connection issues, but at least he would start building up resources.
Ever the methodical god of scouts—and scouting—Wepwawet began to gather information. His unique Opener of the Ways ability let him find whatever he was looking for within his Influence’s radius.
Few mortals had the potential to become a god’s Champion, and fewer could become his even more precious Commanders. Wepwawet sensed five candidates for the former within the village—a surprisingly high amount for such a tiny village—but only the human Victoire possessed the latter’s mettle. More impressively, he also detected a relic that could let him fulfill the appropriate quest deep within the mines beneath him.
I’m starting to see why I was summoned here of all places. Being aware of everything within his realm of Influence allowed Wepwawet to both listen to its inhabitants’ conversations and observe the region from all angles. It has a lot of potential.
The village of Narc was located at the foot of Montfroid Peak, the mountain on which his Idol had taken form. Cliffs on each side of town made it easy to defend with the proper fortifications, and its people had a local mine for coal and iron.
Tunnels below the village connected it to a waterway that led directly to a northern sea, allowing fishermen to haul back troves of catches each day and serve as an emergency escape route. The whole place sat right on top of a geothermal source too, and it was close to a dense forest to the northeast that could be plundered for timber.
Having already assisted Egyptian pharaohs in countless military ventures, Wepwawet quickly formed a plan to turn this village into an impenetrable fortress and its inhabitants into a serviceable fighting force. It would require a hefty starting mana investment, but time was of the essence.
He recalled his old Mortal Marketing courses, rehearsed a speech in his head, and then projected his face again among the clouds.
“People of Narc!” Wepwawet shouted across the village with his voice booming like his father’s thunder. “Heed my words!”
He immediately sensed the attention of all of Narc’s inhabitants turning his way. Even those within houses immediately reached out for the windows to look up at his divine manifestation
“I am Wepwawet, god of this land, whom some of you call Grand-Loup!” Wepwawet didn’t feel too good about cultural appropriation, but he would work with whatever material he had. “I have heard your prayers for help and answered them, but know that the enemies who attacked were but a taste of the trials to come! A great evil will soon descend upon this world!”
He heard shocked gasps and sensed the panic in his worshipers’ hearts. Wepwawet would have preferred to start his tenure with kinder words, but if the titans had managed to sabotage the incarnation rite, then he had no time to waste. Besides, his Mortal Marketing teachers told him that the best way to unite mortals was to provide them with an existential threat.
“Fear not, for I offer you my protection and guidance in these dark times!” Wepwawet reassured them. “Follow my words and you shall do more than survive; you shall prosper! All I ask in return is your faith and service!”
His worshipper count immediately surged up as most of Narc’s people joined their hands in prayer or outright bowed to his statue. Wepwawet was delighted upon sensing everyone’s faith; only those too young to understand the concept of gods didn’t send any.
“All of those willing to put in the work, gather in the village’s center!” he ordered. “I also summon the mortals Victoire, Filou, Lourson, Alpine, and Mistouffe to stand before me!”
Nothing better than a quest between good and evil to raise morale!
—---
Victoire couldn’t remember the last time all of Narc gathered in one spot.
Everybody had answered the god’s call. Everybody. The villagers even brought their bandaged wounded and newborns to the town’s center. Seeing this Wepwawet’s face manifesting in the sky in a wild display of sorcery had quieted people’s doubts; doubly so since he was apparently their god Grand-Loup incarnate.
Victoire would have lied if hearing the entity call out her name hadn’t filled her with unease. She and the other ‘chosen’ stood in a line in front of everyone else, with poor Filou shaking in dread. Lourson and Alpine waited in solemn silence, while Mistouffe’s whiskers trembled with excitement.
Victoire had an inkling as to why the god summoned them. Three of them helped fend off the magmorians, and Alpine had experience as a healer.
But Mistouffe… Mistouffe was the werecat daughter of the village’s only shopkeepers. She was hardly any taller than Filou and half Victoire’s size, with striped white fur, well-groomed black hair, and curious yellow eyes. She had never wielded a weapon in her entire life and only aspired to become a traveling merchant. She did have the foresight to stockpile remedies for tough times, which saved lives today, but otherwise had few successes to her name. What could this Wepwawet have in mind for her?
Victoire straightened up when the god’s cloudy visage looked down upon them. She could feel him observing her, knowing her, peering into her very soul.
“Thank you for your trust, citizens of Narc!” the god said with a voice booming like thunder. “To celebrate our covenant, I will give you a trifold gift of food, weapons, and protection!”
Blue lightning struck the ground from nowhere, and all of Narc held its breath in shock and surprise. Victoire blinked in astonishment when her eyes acclimated to the sudden flash.
Three things now stood before her: an exquisitely crafted spear made of a pearly white metal she had never seen; a grey wolf with shining eyes and covered in golden markings; and at least forty pounds of a strange, leafy plant she didn’t recognize.
If seeing the god control the sky hadn’t convinced Narc’s inhabitants of his power, watching him create matter from nothing certainly did so. A chorus of shouts and gasps followed his display of magic, with Victoire herself stunned into silence. No mage, no matter how powerful, could do anything so spectacular.
He was the real deal.
“What is this plant?” Alpine muttered under her breath. “I’ve never seen anything like this…”
“This is…” Wepwawet marked a short, solemn pause. “Lettuce.”
Victoire could have sworn that the god sounded strangely disappointed. Her attention was more drawn to the wolf, who calmly sat in the snow with an eerie calm foreign to any normal animal, and the strange spear. She could almost taste the power radiating from it.
“Lettuce is a hardy plant, fit for steadfast people such as you all!” Wepwawet declared. “This spirit-wolf, the first of many, shall assist in defending your village! And my sacred spear…”
The god’s visage focused on Victoire specifically, forcing her to straighten up.
“Shall be yours to wield, Victoire Fleuret, as a reward for your bravery!”
“Me?” Victoire asked, dumbfounded. A god offered her a holy weapon? “Sir, I… surely there is someone else more qualified…”
She heard Lourson’s bellowing laugh. “Do you see any other wyrmslayer here, Victoire?”
“T’was a close call!” she protested. Had Filou not provided assistance, it would have cost her her life too.
“But you still made it,” Lourson insisted. “You helped defend Narc with your life, though as a human nothing forced you to.”
“He’s right, milady,” Filou added with a firm nod. Victoire’s squire was easy to intimidate, but he never lacked courage when it came to defending the honor of others. “Even Grand-Loup recognized your bravery!”
“You have the heart of a god’s Champion, Victoire, alongside the four people behind you,” the great Wepwawet declared. “Will you languish in false modesty, or rise to the occasion? The choice is yours.”
So pushed, Victoire had no excuse to back down. She seized the spear to the tune of her fellow villagers’ applause and raised it high to the sky. The strange otherworldly metal felt warm to the touch and incredibly light.
“I thank you for your gift, Lord Wepwawet,” Victoire replied tactfully. She had no idea how to address a god, so she settled on showing him the respect owed to one’s superior. “What do you expect of me?”
“To fight and lead,” the god replied. “A great calamity will soon befall this land, and it will be up to you and others like you to protect the innocent from death and disaster. Should you accept this duty and your responsibilities towards me, I shall bless you with the power to defend the faithful.”
Victoire hardly hesitated.
She had been looking for a purpose all her life, even before she left the Glarmes. She thought defending the Source would be her higher calling until she grew sick of her order’s isolationism. There were so many people in need across the frozen wastes. Settling in Narc had given her a home, but it didn’t lessen the lingering feeling of aimlessness.
Protecting the innocent was a cause that called out to her. To hear that a god had chosen her for the task of defending others, to put her weapon into the service of the greater good, quickened her pulse.
How could anyone in their right mind refuse?
“I accept this task with great humility, Lord Wepwawet,” Victoire replied with a knee in the snow. “I shall do my best to live up to your expectations.”
“I know you shall!” The eyes of Lord Wepwawet’s statue glowed in the distance, and a stream of blue light soon enveloped Victoire. “Arise, my Champion!”
Then she felt the power.
To Victoire, it seemed as if a bolt of lightning suddenly coursed through every inch of her flesh and bones. A gentle, dry warmth enveloped her and filled her with energy that reached all the way to her very soul. Her veins burned with vitality. She sensed Lord Wepwawet’s overwhelming presence peering over her shoulder like a guardian spirit bound to her life, both judging and supporting her.
She had touched the very essence of magic.
Her spear suddenly glowed too. Its tip began to radiate a white mist and an unnatural frost. Its blade swirled with the very breath of winter, its mere sight drawing gasps and whispers from the wereling crowd behind Victoire.
“What…” Victoire muttered under her breath. “What is this?”
“You have been imbued with a divine gift, Victoire Fleuret!” Lord Wepwawet declared, his voice echoing both outside and within Victoire’s own head. “Rise, Blade of Winter!”
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A/N: alright, so for now I'll focus on publishing on B&C chapter on Tuesday at a minimum, more if I can; like Gunsoul and Dungeon Wreckers before them, the first five chapters will be available to all patrons (since I'll likely bulk release those on RR when I post the story) and those after to the appropriate advance chapters tiers. Hope you'll enjoy that story!
Comments
George R
Great chapter thanks
Massgamer
Wepy is just getting started! New location and civ looks rough and small, but lots of potential there too.
CentaureHeart
Thanks for the chapter ! :)
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