The creature swiftly landed at the cliff’s base in a loud crash that blew snow and ice in all directions. It was assuredly a wereling of some kind, but over twice the size of a werebear and with enough brown wooly fur to fill out a coat shop. It had thick arms larger than pine trees, huge feet capable of crushing stone, tusks sharper than spears, big black eyes larger than a human’s head, a thick trunk, and little more than a loincloth to cover its intimate parts.
In short, it looked like a weremammoth.
A very, very angry weremammoth.
“Grudu!” it shouted—or rather he from the sound of his deep, bellowing voice—while beating his chest like a gorilla. “GRUDUUU!”
“Hey, hey, stop that!” Wepwawet’s spirit projection shouted as the weremammoth began trampling his new shrines and sending his workers running in fear. “Stop!”
His order echoed through his Animal Doctrine Miracle, only to rebound off the rampaging weremammoth.
Grudu, Prehistoric Behemoth, is too smart to be charmed by Animal Kingdom!
Too smart? He could barely utter his own name!
“Viviane, Mistouffe, evacuate everyone!” Victoire ordered as she readied her spear and charged the weremammoth in the blink of an eye. “Filou, Lourson, with me!”
“M-Milady, wait!” Her wererabbit squire called out, his knees too busy shaking in dread for him to follow her order. By the time he found the courage to chase after his teammates, they had already engaged the creature. “Wait for me!”
Wepwawet quickly pondered what to do. He could smite this Grudu where he stood to protect his followers, but he would rather restrain him for future recruitment. His hesitation led to Victoire stabbing the creature’s leg with her spear.
It bounced off.
The tip of her spear simply failed to pierce through Grudu’s fur and the thick skin underneath. As for Lourson, his attempt to hit the giant with his warhammer only resulted in the weremammoth grabbing him by the throat and lifting him up like a teddy bear.
Wepwawet quickly reacted by casting Oath of Spring on Lourson. The werebear’s skin turned into a tree’s strong bark, which likely spared him from death when Grudu threw him against the Icefall with enough force to crack it.
He’s strong! Not only was Grudu a Rank 5, but he also boasted immense physical power to match his brutish exterior. Wepwawet decided to prioritize saving his existing Champions over his recruitment. Smite it is!
Wepwawet prepared to cast the appropriate Miracle when Filou leaped into the fray. “B-Back off!” the wererabbit said with a trembling voice as he unsheathed his scimitar in a vain attempt to assist Victoire. “S-stand down, villain!”
Grudu turned to squash Filou where he stood… and then bolted back like a frightened kitten.
“Grudu!” the giant cried out in dread as he stumbled backward, before swiftly crawling back away from Filou with eyes full of panic. “Grudu…”
Wepwawet was so taken aback that he failed to cast his Smite Miracle. His Champions too found themselves at a loss of words when Grudu fled to the base of the cliff, his back hitting the ice.
“Grudu…” the weremammoth whined and curled in a fetal position. “Grudu…”
“T-That’s right!” Filou said as he swung his scimitar, which only caused Grudu more distress. “I have a magical sword and I’m not afraid to use it!”
“I don’t think it’s the sword he fears, Filou,” Victoire noted, though she didn’t lower her spear. “He’s looking at you.”
Wepwawet glanced from Filou to Grudu. Victoire was right, the latter didn’t particularly focus on the flaming sword; he only stared at the wererabbit’s ears with immense distress and panic.
Well, that was… anticlimactic.
Wintresse chose that moment to teleport in, having previously retreated to avoid being trampled by the weremammoth on his way out of his prison. “Is that an elephant? We had those in Shadazar until our queen ordered us to build her an ivory palace.” Wintresse pointed her staff at Grudu, magic swirling around its tip. “Should I cut his tusks and turn him back to ice, Lord Wepwawet?”
“Wait, wait!” Mistouffe all but bolted between the witch and her target. “Please let me try to talk to him, Boss!”
True, Mistouffe’s Translation Perk should let her communicate with him, Wepwawet thought. Grudu could only say his name, but if he could resist Animal Kingdom, then he had enough Intelligence points to understand a spoken language.
“I leave him in your care, Mistouffe,” Wepwawet decided after giving Grudu a long hard look. Filou had single-handedly cowed him into docility, so he would give diplomacy a chance. “I suspect he is more distressed and confused than aggressive.”
“I think so too,” Mistouffe replied with a furious nod. “I would be confused too if I had been woken up from a years-long nap!”
Wepwawet supposed that a werecat would know such things. Whatever the case, Grudu proved too frightened by Filou to lash out at Mistouffe when she moved up to him.
“Come on, big guy, don’t cry,” Mistouffe said while massaging the weremammoth’s side with her paw. “We’re all friends here!”
The weremammoth whined, his eyes staring at Filou’s ears with dread. “Grudu…”
“That silly wererabbit looks scarier than he is, that’s all,” she comforted him. “He wouldn’t hurt a fly!”
“I-I would,” Filou protested in a childish attempt to prove his bravery. “I mean, not without a reason, but I could do it if I wanted to!”
“Not now, Filou,” Victoire said before checking on the others. None of the workers had been hurt, and Lourson was already back on his feet. “Are you well, my friend?”
“My pride as a werebear took a hit, but I’m fine otherwise,” Lourson replied. His skin turned from bark back to pristine fur. “I’ve never been manhandled like that before. It will take dozens of us to restrain him if he acts up again…” He glanced at Filou. “Or one of you.”
“I, for once, am happy to be taken seriously,” Filou replied.
“We were lucky that no one was seriously wounded,” Victoire said, her eyes wandering to Wepwawet. “What is this creature?”
“An ancient wereling,” Wepwawet replied. From the way his followers reacted, he guessed that Grudu’s kind was long extinct in Verglane. “He doesn’t look like it, but the soul of a Champion slumbers within him.”
Lourson grunted. “He does have the strength to match. That one will walk through fortifications like I do through the rain.”
Meanwhile, Mistouffe managed to calm Grudu down enough that he stopped sobbing. “For every minute you spend being sad and scared, you lose sixty seconds of happiness,” she said with the boundless wisdom of a self-help marketing guru. “And since time is money, you’re doubly in the red!”
“Gruuuuduuu?” The weremammoth squinted at Mistouffe with a mix of curiosity and confusion. Wepwawet could tell he was trying to understand her point, but lacked the higher reasoning required to do so.
Mistouffe hence switched to simpler slogans. “You’re a big boy with a big heart!” To illustrate her point, she pressed her paw against his chest. “Your heart is bigger than both me and that silly wererabbit, but there’s still no place for fear in it!”
“Grudu…” The weremammoth’s trunk touched his chest, and then his stomach. “Grudu.”
“See? Everything will be fine!” Mistouffe then turned to Wepwawet. “Boss, can you show him some of your plant magic? He must be hungry after sleeping for so long.”
Wepwawet had no idea if a weremammoth would appreciate lettuce, but he consented to Mistouffe’s plan nonetheless. “A blessing upon you, Grudu,” he said while summoning a pile of food. “Eat your fill.”
The weremammoth examined the lettuce with his trunk, then grabbed some and shoved it in his mouth. He appeared to enjoy the taste from the way he enthusiastically ate the rest of his meal.
“Grudu!” the weremammoth said with what could pass for gratitude, though it only lasted until he spotted Filou. “Grudu…”
Filou sighed in defeat and sheathed his sword. It didn’t entirely reassure Grudu, but the weremammoth’s attitude changed from outright fearfulness to mere suspicion.
“Can I keep him as my employee, Boss?” Mistouffe asked excitedly. “I swear I’ll teach him the ropes and keep him in line.”
“Your employee?” Victoire rolled her eyes. “Mistouffe…”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Hey, an employment contract is the best way to reinsert someone into society!” Mistouffe argued. She gave Grudu affectionate pats on his leg; a gesture which the weremammoth returned by caressing her head with his trunk. “Look at him! Look at his big muscles and all that soft fur! He’s a one wereling-industry!”
“The werecat speaks true,” Wintresse said. “The creature has the strength of twenty men, and he seems more interested in being paid in pounds of food than gold.”
“I suppose it would be better than letting him run amok,” Lourson conceded.
“Pleeease?” Mistouffe joined her hands and pleaded Wepwawet to indulge her request with those big cat eyes that would melt any heart of ice. “I swear I’ll treat him well and supervise him!”
Wepwawet considered his options before deciding to go along with her proposal. Mistouffe was his only Champion with the Perk required to even interact with Grudu, and while she possessed a merchant’s greed, she remained a hard-working mortal with her heart in the right place. Wepwawet didn’t think she would exploit Grudu’s simplemindedness, and since she already managed to calm him down, he could give her a chance.
“Very well,” Wepwawet said. “I will welcome Grudu among my Champions, but he’s your responsibility, Mistouffe. I will have words with you if he messes up.”
“Thanks, Boss! I swear I won’t disappoint you!” Mistouffe immediately translated the news to Grudu in very simple terms. “Hear that? The Big Wolf Boss will give you all the food you want!”
“Grudu?” The weremammoth’s trunk let out a loud and enthusiastic call. “Grudu!”
Wepwawet had the sharp intuition that his daily lettuce budget would soon spiral out of control, but claimed Grudu as his newest Champion anyway. The weremammoth offered no resistance and his stats swiftly showed up on his god’s system screen.
Grudu could only do one thing—break stuff—but he would do it very well.
On the plus side, Wepwawet wouldn’t need to teach this creature the Translation Perk since he only knew one word anyway. That saved him a move slot!
Nonetheless, Grudu’s reaction to Filou bothered Wepwawet. The weremammoth had clearly been traumatized by something the wererabbit reminded him of. Wepwawet also found it strange that a living creature could be frozen in ice quickly enough to remain in a state of stasis for years, if not centuries. This did not happen naturally.
Could this be connected to the murals in Grand-Loup’s tomb?
There’s a secret past buried under Verglane’s snow, Wepwawet thought. I wonder what I’ll find there…
All in all, things ended rather well, much to Victoire’s surprise.
Mistouffe managed to bribe Grudu into docility with a combination of lettuce and paw massages, which led to Wintresse immediately assigning them to clearing out a patch of forest for future construction. Victoire feared what would happen should they give their new recruit an axe, but he simply began to uproot trees with his bare hands.
No wonder my spear failed to wound him. Her failure gnawed at Victoire’s heart well into the night. She wouldn’t have been able to do much had Mistouffe and Filou failed to calm the beast down. I couldn’t crack that witch’s magic quartz wall either.
Victoire knew she could only blame herself for her weakness. She had delayed Lord Wepwawet’s newest blessing and the magical power which her god would have provided, though it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
She had reached the limits of her own strength.
I can’t put this off any longer, Victoire thought once she rose in the middle of the night. I have to ask him.
Victoire and her squire had been granted the uppermost room in the wolf-tower for their use, with small torches lighting it up. It was surprisingly warm and comfortable for a solar encased in eternal ice, enough that Filou slept soundly in his bed of leaves and fur. The wererabbit always managed to find slumber more easily than Victoire herself.
Victoire didn’t see much use in decorating their solar, especially since they would likely leave it soon for the Glarmes’ territory. Nonetheless, she had enough material at hand to raise a small shrine near the window. Her statue of wood brindles and straw hardly resembled a wolf, but she hoped her deity would forgive her lack of artistic talent.
First time for everything, Victoire thought as she sat in front of the shrine, joined her hands, and then followed Lord Wepwawet’s ritual. “Duty, knowledge, bravery.”
Lord Wepwawet’s spirit immediately materialized the moment she uttered the last word. “Good evening, Victoire,” he said with a solemn tone. “What is on your mind, my child?”
Once again, Victoire couldn’t shake the feeling that her god was trying to act wiser than he really was. She stared at the projection for a moment, sensing the doubt creeping up on her deity’s face.
“Victoire?” he inquired. “Victoire, what’s wrong?”
Victoire gathered her breath and courage, then uttered the dreadful question which had been haunting her for the last few days. “Is this world a game to you?”
“W-what?” The question took Wepwawet aback, and though it only lasted a moment, Victoire quickly caught the brief flash of embarrassment crossing his wolfish face. “N-no, of course not! What makes you think that?”
“I saw the board’s edge during your battle with that giant shadow, and the cards you played.” A chill traveled down Victoire’s spine as she recalled this battle. “Were the two of you using us as pieces?”
Her god clenched his jaw and stared at her for a moment. Victoire held her breath, half-expecting Wepwawet to smite her down where she stood. She feared he would either punish her for doubting his words, or kill her for discovering his secret; yet that moment never came.
Victoire half-expected Lord Wepwawet to have been either secretly malicious or uncaring about mortal plights, but he showed neither fury nor carelessness; only indecision.
“You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?” Victoire realized. “You’re improvising as you go.”
“O-of course I know what I’m doing, Victoire!” Lord Wepwawet protested, his unease shining through his mask of self-confidence. He clearly hadn’t been expecting them to have this conversation. “I’m just, I’m just trying to remember the proper procedure for this scenario, that’s all!”
Victoire blinked in surprise. “There’s a procedure for this?”
A long and heavy silence settled in the room, with neither god nor Champion speaking up.
“Forget I said that,” Wepwawet finally asked.
“No,” Victoire replied bluntly.
“Dammit!” Wepwawet sighed upon realizing he wouldn’t talk his way out of his one. “I knew I shouldn’t have skipped that Mortal Diplomacy class!”
“Class?” Victoire struggled to breathe as all of her previously existing fears suddenly turned into new, wilder ones. “You’re a student?!”
“N-No… maybe?” Her ‘god’s’ facade of wisdom and competence crumbled to dust, replaced with shame and embarrassment. “You make it sound demeaning!”
“That’s because it is!” A terrible thought suddenly crossed Victoire’s mind. “How old are you?”
“I’m eons old, I’ll tell you!” Wepwawet protested. “Yeah, sure, that would be the equivalent of eighteen of your human years, but I wield potent and ancient divine wisdom!”
Victoire’s entire world came crashing down, so much that she winced when she heard Filou turning around his slumber. She looked at him in fear that he overheard this… this terrifying revelation. Thankfully though, her wererabbit squire slept like a stone.
“The others must never know,” she whispered to her… god? Could she even call him that anymore? “This will devastate our entire army’s morale.”
“You’re the one pushing the subject,” Wepwawet complained with the exact same tone. “I was happy not broaching it!”
Victoire closed her eyes, took a long deep breath to calm down, and then locked eyes with her now less-than-impressed benefactor. “Is Verglane a board?!” she asked once more. “Is this a game? Are you playing us right now?”
“Nnnn-yees?” Wepwawet crossed his arms and avoided Victoire’s glare. “It’s complicated.”
“Then make it simple.” Victoire didn’t care if he struck her dead where she stood—something which he clearly had the power to do. She was done with this charade. “All this talk of a coming darkness, those were lies?”
“No, no, that part is very real,” Wepwawet protested. “We’re fighting a war here.”
Victoire’s blood froze in his veins. A war. This almighty entity, while nowhere near as competent as he portrayed himself as, could still rip out a piece of land to shape it into a board, summon the rain, conjure towers of ice, and create life with a snap of his fingers was at war; something that could only happen between equals.
“How should I put this…” Wepwawet scratched the back of his head. He suddenly looked so young to Victoire, so… mundane. “Okay, okay, I’ve got this.”
The wolf-god straightened up, cleared his throat, and then pointed a finger at Victoire’s face.
“Evil gods called Titans will soon try to kill you all and eat your souls, but don’t worry! You’re not alone!” Wepwawet raised his thumb at his face, his wolfish lips stretching into a big wide smile shining like the night sky. “You’ve got me, and all my classmates!”
Victoire stared at her god in utter silence, her skin turning paler than the ice walls surrounding her as her mind processed his words. She pondered her god’s divine revelation, took another long deep breath—so deep her lungs burned in her chest—and then finally found the strength to speak up.
“I need a beer,” Victoire Fleuret said very, very calmly. “I need several beers.”
J Pal (of They Called Me Mad and Dungeon Studies) has recently released/self-published a new LitRPG apocalypse-lite series called on Amazon. I'm leaving a link here in case anybody would be interested in checking out his new work.
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