(Path of the Dragon Mage: Nomad) Battle (6) (Patreon)

When the massive dragon had taken the princess, Gwen’s first instinct had been to call NightShade and follow. There was enough moonlight to allow the stallion to freely gallop through the air.

Then her good reason had reasserted itself.

She was Horse Folk – now heir to her clan. Her duty was to her people... and to Corvus who was part of the clan.

Corvus might have a soft heart, but Gwen's had long ago hardened when it came to royals.

The moment that horrid dragon had taken off with the princess in its claws, the plants on the rooftop had ceased their attack. Gwen was free, but did not follow her. She stared after, wondering what she had become.

"The prince has given his orders to begin."

"Begin?" she repeated blankly, turning to see who had spoken. It was the other Pathwalker, Perry had spoken. He’s escaped getting swept off the edge of the roof like so many others, though there was a bleeding cut over one eye.

Then it clicked. Right. The plan.

"I sent Corvus a message about the princess." Gwen no longer cared who heard her talking about Path Walker business. "Do you think he'll try to save his cousin?"

If he did, Gwen would have to follow. Even if it was a suicide mission. That's what it meant being clan.

Perry's look was grim. "If he's smart, he will not."

So. It seemed Gwen wasn't the only one who was ruthless. Assuming she survived this night, she planned on sitting down and doing a good deal of soul searching. She wasn't sure she liked what these Paths were turning her into.

She nodded. "What do you want me to do?"

He seemed surprised that she asked. "Why, complete the plan, of course. I don't see what has changed–"

"What?" Gwen gestured behind the man to the roof beyond. It was in complete disarray. What nobles and guards had not been swept off the edge were now gathered in the middle, clearly afraid it could happen again.

Most of the nobles Starella had gathered had completely lost their heads. Their fine clothing was dirty and torn from being tossed about by the brutal wind. Most of the women, and some of the men, were weeping in fear on each other's shoulders.

Towners. Ugh.

Perry winced. "Granted. The princess is... gone and the governor is missing. I fear he fell off the side with the rest."

Both looked down to the seething mass of ratkin. The entire command tent had been swept off the building, taking with it the majority of the high-ranking officials.

Perry continued, "This is a setback, but the heart of the plan has not changed. I have messaged the word to begin along to the Path Walkers in the city, and I'll attend to the runes here." He pointed to the barrels of water which Corvus had ordered be placed on the top of every noble tower. Freshwater was a scarcity in this desert city. The modest collection of barrels wasn't enough to save the entire tower should it go up in flames like the other one... but if Corvus was right, it could help save them from the ratkin.

"The Princess was to direct the nobles," Gwen reminded him. "And it's not like they'll listen to me."

Perry gave her a direct look.

"That was a joke. They won't–" She stopped and gave the man a hard look. She hadn't shared the fine details of her character sheet with anybody except for Corvus, and Perry was giving her a look like he knew her skills.

Or specifically, that one skill.

Rank Jump Diplomacy, currently at intermediate 12. She’d had… a lot of practice dealing with the elders in her village.

Perry's lip ticked upward into a smile. "I've been walking the Paths for decades and I know what to look for. You're hardly the only one with the skill to manipulate others, young lady."

The words stung, though they were the truth. "Is that why you're the governor's second hand?" she shot back.

His answer was a slight smile. "Go, do your duty."

Her duty did not include saving towners from themselves. Hers was the Path of the Wind Runner – queen, if she could help it. But none of that would matter if the city fell. Somehow, someway, the horse folk would be blamed seeing as they were the ones who tried to alert the governor of the danger.

So, the best thing she could do for her people right now was make sure that didn't happen.

Gwen turned on her heel and stomped over to the cluster of cowering nobles. There was a gap between the encircling guards. Through it, Gwen caught the eye of one well-to-do man who seemed to be more put together than the rest.

"What's your type of magic?" Gwen demanded, then corrected herself, remembering Corvus's phrasing. "What are your elemental talents?"

The man stared. "I beg your pardon?"

These people only respected those who were of higher rank above them, and royalty most of all. Gwen leaned hard on her generalized diplomatic skillset and said, "Prince Corvus has charged me with getting you all organized for the seige. Now, whose talent is in Air?"

There was a brittle silence and then finally one older woman stepped forward. Unlike most, her face didn't have any tear tracks. "Mine is Air."

Two men glanced at each other and then stepped forward. "Ours are Water."

One by one, the nobles identified themselves, and she got them organized into compatable groups. Gwen privately thought they listened only due to her skill and the fact that all knew the rooftop doors were shut against them. There was nowhere to go, and they had no choice other than to fight or die.

Gwen wasn't stupid enough to outright order them – that would only put their backs up and make them remember she was a no-nothing commoner. Instead, she cajoled and named dropped Corvus so often it was shameful. She kept calm and acted like she knew what she was doing.

Many bleated over and over that their own elemental talents were minor. That the Princess was the one who had the real power. She listened and artfully directed them to the roof's edge so they could best see where to direct their elemental magic.

The ring of guards followed them, which seemed to give the nobles strength and steadied their resolve.

Ding!

Subskill - Rank Jump Diplomacy – Intermediate 13

Ding!

General Skill Diplomacy – Intermediate 15

She'd rather level up in killing' stuff, but she'd take this, too.

Meanwhile, Perry had gone from barrel to barrel etching runes in some and dropping his charmed gems in others.

One of the guards shouted a warning just in time for a level five ratkin to poke its head up over the edge.

Gwen grabbed for an arrow out of her quiver, sighted and loosed. The ratkin fell.

Racing to the edge, she looked down to see more following. The ones manning the balconies were doing their best to knock down the climbers, but ratkin numbers were beginning to tell.

"Get the fires put out!" Gwen snapped to the nearest guard.

"But how will we see?"

"The girl's right," Perry said, joining them. "The moon is high enough to provide enough light to see by. We don't need our tower to go up in flames like those other poor souls."

The guard hesitated a moment later then nodded.

Gwen looked at the nobles. "You know you're duties? The Princess explained the plan?"

They nodded and several looked sick. One was actually sick, staggering to the edge to empty his stomach.

Gwen rolled her eyes and stepped back to the edge of the roof to look down. With the fires extinguished it didn't take long for her eyes to adjust.

Gwen felt no pity for the nobles. Their whining’s that their talents weren’t "strong enough" when most normal folk would give their left ball or breast to have an inkling of magic inspired no pity in her.

And she saw even more ratkin crawling up the towers. All the towers.

This plan better work, or the city wasn't going to last the night.

Gwen spared a moment to mentally check in with nightshade. The horse was safely ensconced in the tower stable yard and as if yet there was no sign or smell of ratkin. Through images and emotion, NightShade reported that he was with CloudStrike, and the mare was comfortable and sleeping in peace.

Gwen hoped her brother could find that same peace, whereever he was right now.

She shut her stab of guilt off with a thought and positioned herself on the edge of the roof – so close that her toes of her boots poked off the sides. Then she identified where the queens were in the seething mass of ratkin, drew her bow, and started firing.

Hours ago, Perry had pulled her aside and given her specialized runic gems. Using a bit of candle wax, Gwen had affixed each gem behind the head of her specialized arrows. When she was certain of her shot, she reached for one of these.

The first arrow she loosed went straight through the eye of a queen. The explosion took out half the head and engulfed several lower leveled rats along with it.

Unfortunately, there were more large bulks of queens than she had arrows just on this side of the tower alone. She had to make every strike count.

Her second shot hit the queen right through the ear, the arrow traveling to the brainpan.

Ding!

Congratulations! You have gained a level!

New Level: 14. XP to next level: 130/1300. Mana has increased by 5. Health has increased by 75.

You have been awarded (2) skill points!

Level 14. That meant she could change where she funneled her extra experience.

Calmly, Gwen flicked through her settings and moved her funneled experience from speed to dexterity.

As she closed the menu, she heard a rush of wings overhead.

Some of the cowardly nobles cried out. Gwen glanced up, but it was only Charm.

The pearlescent dragon was splattered with flecks of ratkin blood. Corvus sat on her neck and looked grim.

Their eyes briefly met and then Charm was swooping down on the barrels, hauling them up in her claws – had she grown again?

This was it. Time for the plan.

She turned to the nobles. "Ready your talents! Watch for the Prince's sign!"

Several shot her resentful looks that she had dared to remind them of their duties. But no one could dispute the fact their lives were on the line.

Several joined hands, closed their eyes, and concentrated.

Gwen's part was done, so she returned to firing. There were plenty of queens to choose from.

Maybe she would even hit level twenty tonight.