Melia the Magnificent

Melia was getting the feeling it was time to move on. She wasn’t one of those people infected by wanderlust, so this revelation was a bit foreign to her. Left to her own devices, she would have been content to spend her days lazily watching the world turn from the comfort of her Abbyton lair, for the months and years to come. Eventually she would have grown bored and traveled around, as there were many sights she wished to see, many things she wanted to experience, but they would come with time. She had time.

The same could not be said for everybody else.

Melia didn’t think her friends were going anywhere any time soon, but they did seem to be getting anxious. And with the newest revelation of having a demon king to put down, she was starting to piece together why.

But the world was not all doom and gloom, as divine quests might have her initially believe. Alastair, in particular, seemed revitalized. His talk with Braum yesterday seemed to breathe fresh life into the otherwise stoic [Paladin], and it seemed to Melia like he was actively looking forward to each new day rather than simply going through the motions. In fact, he sought her out first thing in the morning, before breakfast even, and asked for a favor.

Naturally, Melia was eager to hear him out.

“I know it’s short notice,” he said, walking up to Melia in her dragon form as she lounged atop her pile of gold, “But I was wondering if you could spare some time to answer the [Breakers]’s questions this morning.”

Hmm. Braum did have questions, didn’t he? Not that he had much of a chance to hear a response, what with him falling asleep in the hot tub.

Melia yawned, cracked her massive jaws wide open, stood, and shook herself off. The pleasing sound of golden coins tinkling back onto the pile brought a smile to her face.

“Very well,” she said, turning back into her gnomish form. “But not until I make some food! I’m hungry for pancakes!”

“You’re hungry for everything,” Jessica said, standing next to Al. “At least we don’t have to hunt for these.”

The group walked back into the abbey, where they found Brandy being fawned over in the kitchen. She was doing her best to curb the worship sent her way, but with the recent ceremony featuring the holy avocado, she was back to getting starstruck stares.

“Brandy,” Melia said brightly as she entered the kitchen, “How do you feel about pancakes?”

“Is there a way you’re supposed to feel about pancakes that doesn’t involve huge smiles?”

“True,” Melia grinned. “I’m planning to make a bunch. Feel free to eat your fill!”

“I suppose the real question here is what do you have for toppings?” Jessica said, finding a seat at a table. “Not that there’s anything wrong with plain old butter.”

“Oh, we’ve got it all,” Melia said with a smile. “I’ve got jams, I’ve got jellies…I’ve got maple syrup…I even have some chocolate chips I can mix into the batter….”

“Hold up,” Jessica said. “Chocolate? In pancakes?”

“It sounds like it could be the best thing ever or the world’s greatest mistake,” Y’cennia said, sitting next to the team. “I’m willing to try.”

Melia climbed onto the counter and started pulling out ingredients. She looked over her shoulder and started counting people.

“Where’s Ellesea? Should I plan on making some for her?”

“I believe she’s with the [Retainers],” Y’cennia said. “They went to go check on Queen Moeldywn.”

“Ah,” Melia nodded. “Then I’ll have to add more.”

“Do we have enough?” Alastair asked.

“Oh, we’ll have plenty, don’t you worry. Al, while we’re at it, why don’t you go find the [Breakers]? Now’s a perfect time for Braum to ask all of his questions, and his party can join in too.”

Melia got to work while Al went to find the [Breakers]. She wasn’t going for a show-stopping performance or a dish that would knock the socks off one of those curmudgeonly TV chefs. Instead, Melia needed quantity, and lots of it. She set to work mixing bowls of batter, and as soon as one was done, she’d slip it into her inventory and move on to another. She lost herself in a smooth rhythm of combine ingredients, mix in bowl.

She heard more people enter the kitchen, and judging from the scraping sound of chairs dragging across the floor and several hearty grunts, it seemed like everyone else had arrived. Just in time, Melia grinned, warming up a griddle and listening to the batter sizzle as she poured out large, plate-sized circles.

“I hope you’re hungry!” She called to the room at large.

“Eh?” A hollow voice she didn’t recognize spoke up. “A gnome [Chef]?”

“Among other things,” Moeldywn’s regal voice answered.

“Melody!” Melia called cheerfully behind her. “Do you want a half stack or full?”

“I will take whatever you’re serving,” she answered confidently. Melia grinned and wondered if she’d end up eating those words…along with the pancakes, of course.

“Perfect! For the rest, I hope you don’t mind sharing a platter. Eat as much as you like, there’s plenty!”

“Why does she get her own plate?” A woman’s voice grumped.

“Besides being Queen?” Brandy smirked, earning an acknowledging grumble.

“I’m special like that,” Moeldywn bragged, full of smugness.

“Order up!” Melia cheered. She turned around, found her 3 [Retainers] waiting to take the platters off her hands, and finally got a look at her guests. “Oh!” She said in surprise. “A [Death Knight]!”

“Name’s Angus,” the pallid-looking dwarf said. Melia flashed him a smile and went back to cooking.

“That’s not gonna be a problem, is it?” She heard him ask the table.

“No,” Brandy answered for her. “Just unusual. I don’t think we’ve seen a [Death Knight] since…a long time ago.”

“Elves,” he grumbled. “Just because you live so long doesn’t mean everyone else is a babe.”

“Now, Angus,” Braum chided, but Moeldywn gasped.

“Meliastraza…what is this?”

“Pancakes!” Melia giggled.

“Yes…but….”

Melia grinned as she cast a glance behind her. The plate she’d given Moeldywn was stacked 6 pancakes high…6 plate-sized, half-inch-thick, dense, rich, gloriously golden brown and butter-drenched pancakes.

“You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to,” Melia laughed.

“But theshe are sho good!” Jessica exclaimed, her mouth full. “Why ish everything you make sho tashty?!”

“Cheats,” Melia bragged. And, she supposed, it was true.

“Fine then,” Jessica said, downing half a glass of orange juice, “Keep your secrets. So long as you keep these coming.”

So…Melia did.

About a half an hour later, she was wiping down her griddle to the sounds of moans and groans.

“I have regret,” Y’cennia said, pushing herself away from the table and her sparkling-clean plate.

“I regret nothing,” Ellesea countered, patting a very full belly while sucking on her fork.

“I regret not being able to eat more,” Jessica said, staring wistfully at the stack of cleared-out platters on the table. They had to have gone through a hundred pancakes. Melia had, of course, saved herself some, and after her mess was cleaned up, she wandered over to the table.

“Allow me,” L’menia said, pulling back a chair with multiple cushions and setting Melia on top. Next to her, Lethia was clearing all the used dishes from the table.

“I can do that,” Melia said weakly, but her heart wasn’t really in it. It was her mess, but she knew her [Retainers] loved to take care of her. They merely smiled and tutted at her, so she pulled out her first stack and got to business.

“So, you’re Braum,” she said, pointing her fork across the table at the dumbfounded dwarf. She could see his eyes travel from the stack of pancakes to her body, comparing the sizes. Melia merely smirked. “And this must be your team?”

“Angus,” the [Death Knight] repeated.

“Warren,” a tall wolfkin said.

“Evra,” the female dwarf said.

“Rook,” the final dwarf said, startling Alastair and Jessica. Melia had seen him, of course, but she hadn’t realized he’d been [Stealthed]. She frowned momentarily, but supposed the little prank hadn’t caused any real harm. But one turn deserved another, as they say, so she figured she’d call them out.

“So let me guess,” Melia said, sizing them up. She might be able to use [Inspect] to find out some of their details, but she wanted to see how well her instincts worked. “You,” she pointed to Evra, “Are a [Warlock].”

“Aye,” the woman said, raising a brow.

“You’re a [Druid],” she pointed to the wolf, “And you’re a [Rogue],” she pointed to Rook.

“Not bad,” Braum admitted. “Though not exactly impossible if you’re high enough level to [Inspect]. None of us are hiding our stats.”

“Speak fer yerself,” Rook grumbled.

“Actually, I haven’t [Inspected] you yet,” Melia smiled. She turned to Rook and waggled her fork at him. “And I saw you sitting there. It’s not very nice to [Stealth] your way to the table.”

The man’s eyes bulged and Braum laughed.

“That’s right! Alastair said you were quite high level. So you saw through it, eh?”

“Impossible,” Rook denied. “I’ve specialized in concealment!”

“Eh,” Melia shrugged. “It’s nothing against your skill. You’re just too low level.”

“Too…low?” Warren gawked.

“Sure,” Melia grinned. “You need to be a little bit higher than rank 10 to hide from me.”

“What…in Helena’s name are you?” Rook spat in disbelief.

“A dragon,” Melia smiled, teeth fully on display. However, she shifted them slightly into fang-like protrusions that were far too sharp for a gnome’s mouth, and her eyes returned to vertical slits. But before they could really lose themselves, she waved a hand.

“And that brings us to the point! Alastair tells me you wanted to talk to a dragon. So now you’ve found one! What do you have to say, I wonder?”

The group stammered, still blindsided by her unsettling appearance, but Braum mastered himself.

“Actually, it’s not so much that we were looking for a dragon as we were looking for the owner of the mansion on the hill.”

“The Obsidian Mansion,” Lethia corrected. “My mistress’ mansion.”

“Right!” Melia said cheerfully, stuffing her cheeks with pancakes. Mmmm. They were very fluffy! “As you mentioned last night! Like I said, you’re more than welcome to look around. So long as you don’t try anything funny, I’ll have one of my [Retainers] escort you.”

“So I guess the big question is,” Braum started, “Why do you have a dungeon in your ballroom?”

“Because,” Melia sighed, “I think the gods have a sense of humor.”

Melia wasn’t quite sure what that sense was, but it had to be something, seeing as that was exactly where she woke up in this world. Judging from the confused looks on everybody’s faces, they didn’t either.

“Never mind,” she quickly corrected. “I suppose Chaos placed it there because it absorbed so much of my energy.”

“Energy?” Braum asked. “What does energy have to do with it?”

“Braum,” Melia said, “Your group entered the dungeon. Didn’t you sit down and watch the opening play?”

“Well…yes.”

“And do you remember what the [Bard] said?”

“Aye,” Braum said. “‘Tis an untold tale, called the House that Death Built.”

“And do you remember who was waiting for you…in those halls?”

The group visibly shuddered.

“The [Destroyer].”

“Mmm,” Melia nodded, stuffing more pancakes into her mouth. “I won’t tell you who I am. I don’t want to, ah, break you. But you’re not stupid. I’m sure you can make the connection yourselves. I am, after all, a dragon. And the dungeon is there…because that’s where I died.”

“Died?” Angus asked. As something between living and dead himself, he was probably wondering if Melia was a different type of undead. She shook her head.

“Or close enough to it. I am, it seems, quite hard to kill.”

“Don’t let her deceive you,” Moeldywn cut in seriously. “It’s impossible. Even mortally wounded by an army of the greatest heroes this world has ever seen, all it did was put her to sleep. A long sleep, yes, but that was it. I, myself, can only scratch her hide.”

“But…but…,” Warren stuttered, looking at her with wide eyes. Again, Melia shook her head.

“Not really relevant,” she said. “And not worth my time explaining. As I recall, you had questions about the dungeon, and I think my time would be better spent answering those than making your jaws drop any lower. I know,” Melia bragged with a smug smile, “I am [Magnificent].”

She glanced at her stats and saw that, yes, the title was back. No matter how many times she switched it out, it always came back.

“Alright,” Braum sighed, pulling out a notebook. “Since you brought it up, we’ll start with the play. What’s the bloody [Destroyer of Worlds] got to do with your mansion?”

Melia’s smile turned into a grimace. Perhaps she was giving them too much credit.

“Once again I’ll say it: I am a dragon. It is my mansion. You can connect the dots.”

Braum’s face went white as Angus’; he scribbled some notes on his pad, and moved on.

“If that’s true, and you are…who you say you are…what are you doing living in a mansion on a hill?”

“Am I not allowed a home to relax in?” Melia asked. “Would you take that from me?”

“But the [Destroyer] is a myth,” he muttered. “A cautionary tale at most….”

“And what does that ‘tale’ have to say about the debuff you received the other day?” Moeldywn asked. “I know you got it. It was kingdom-wide. You’d barely left Horizon when she was angered.”

“Ah,” Evra whined, shrinking into her chair. Melia frowned; this wasn’t the way she wanted to spend her breakfast.

“Can we move on? I don’t like the fact that people are afraid of me. I’m a person too, you know.”

Beside her, Moeldywn gave Melia a funny look. She then glanced back at Braum, waggled her hand, and mouthed, sort of.

“Right!” Braum perked up quickly. “So for the dungeon itself! It’s broken up into different [Acts]. We entered the first instance. Do you know what year it was?”

“The exact year?” Melia asked. She looked at Brandy and tilted her head. “I could probably do the math, but off the top of my head, no. Do you?”

“Mel,” Brandy sighed, “I didn’t go in. Only you did.”

“Right,” Melia blushed. “Well, it was that time we had the RP in Horizon’s crafting district.”

“Then I definitely don’t know,” Brandy laughed. “That lot were a crazy bunch.”

“But Hank was there!” Melia pouted.

“A crazy bunch,” Brandy repeated. “I stand by what I said.”

“Hank…?” Angus muttered while squinting at Brandy. “So casual? Miss, with all due respect, I’m not overly familiar with high elves. You look somewhat…familiar. Could it be that you’re…?”

“If you finish that thought, [Death Knight],” Brandy warned through clenched teeth, “I will [Levitate] your ass right out the window and your party can collect you later.”

“Ah,” Braum chuckled, likely remembering his own slip-up from last night. “Drop it, Angus. Yes, we find ourselves in illustrious company. A queen, a [Saint], and a dragon. Don’t worry,” Braum aimed at Brandy, “It was a minor slip. We’ve had our fair share of unwanted fame, so we understand the desire to be treated normally.”

“From what I can tell,” Moeldywn said, getting the group back on track, “The time period matches about 108 years ago. Many people forget that the Age of Upheaval was very short. In fact, it was named such because of all the chaos that ensued over such a short amount of time. From what I’ve been told, the final boss of the first [Act] is an [Obsidian Dragon].”

Moeldywn glared at Melia, who smiled cheekily.

“In the past 100 years, there’s only been one dragon who descended upon my city peacefully.”

“Can you call that peacefully?” Rook scoffed. “Blocked an entire plaza, it did.”

“Right?” Melia giggled.

The [Breakers] all looked at her like she was crazy, but Braum was the only one brave enough to continue.

“So, er, that [Obsidian Dragon],” he muttered nervously, “Would it happen to be…?”

“Me?” Melia filled in. “Right!”

“Why would you do that?” Evra asked in disbelief.

“Because it’s fun!” Melia cheered. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to just…plop yourself down in an inconvenient location just because you can?”

“Er…no,” Braum said. To be fair, he was a fraction of her real size. He shook himself from the odd mental image and pressed on. “So, last night, when you mentioned we’d seen you…was that what you’re referring to? Are you the end boss of the first [Act]?”

“Mmmm,” Melia nodded, starting on another stack of pancakes. “That I am.”

The group all leaned back, processing this information. They likely didn’t think it possible to find a real person a dungeon boss was based on, and even if they did, they likely assumed the subject would be completely evil.

…though looking at it subjectively, blocking the entire plaza containing the Post Office was probably a little evil.

“Hmm,” Braum frowned. “The boss was only rank 6. And yet, if you’ll excuse me, I can’t see your level. That’s quite the gap.”

“A hundred years is a long time,” Moeldywn said. “And even so, is it not the case that some dungeons do not accurately represent the subjects they portray? I recall the trio of dungeons surrounding the Executor. In life, he was level 1200. His dungeon is rank 7 and his raid is rank 8.”

Melia’s ears perked up as she nodded eagerly. That was interesting. Technically, as a second-expansion boss, he’d only been level 75 or so. So, obviously, some shenanigans were going on with real-world history. And, if the story of Brandywine’s bane, which had traveled far and wide in this world, was the real version of events that transpired in this world’s history, Melia and the gang had been the ones to actually take him down.

“I see,” Braum said, scribbling some more notes. He didn’t look completely satisfied, but he moved on. “So you were the dragon…and Hank was there…were any of the other Heroes present that we just didn’t see?”

“It depends on what you mean by ‘Heroes’,” Melia shrugged. “If you’re only referring to [Daybreakers], then no. Brandy wasn’t there, Zeke wasn’t there, Miguel wasn’t there, and Wally wasn’t there.”

“Is that not who the Heroes were?” Rook asked. “Or at the very least, the most well-known.”

“There were others, obviously,” Moeldywn said. “Many [Guilds] formed with Visitors filling their ranks. And, to my knowledge, though they had guilds of varying sizes, from small to quite large, they often worked outside of their postings. If the stories I’ve heard are true,” she glanced smugly at Melia, “Then I would say that more often than not, guilds of Heroes collaborated with each other. Strictly speaking, [Daybreakers] might be known as Heroes, but they weren’t the only ones.”

“To my knowledge,” Melia added, “There were no other well-known Heroes present in the [Act]. Well…that is, unless you count me.”

Braum blinked, put his pencil down, and ran his hand through his beard.

“But you were the dragon? Were you a well-known dragon 100 years ago?”

“Thankfully, no,” Moeldywn muttered. Melia rolled her eyes and ignored her.

“No. I didn’t often go out in my true form, but I mingled with other high-level parties in my preferred form.”

“You mean…?”

“Yes!” Melia beamed, waving the hand holding her fork down at herself. “Aren’t gnomes the best?”

“Debatable,” Evra instantly spat before she could stop herself. Her brain caught up several seconds later, and she seemed to understand she'd said something she shouldn't have; she went a bit red. Thankfully, Melia didn’t mind and laughed it off.

“So you were a famous gnome, then?” Braum asked, writing more down. “Hmm. Did we see…?”

“Yes!” Angus cried, pushing his chair back and standing up. “We did see a gnome!”

He scrambled at his chest as if looking for a coat pocket, but eventually summoned up his inventory. He reached in and pulled out a large, multicolored [Elementium Ingot], shimmering like a rainbow.

“The first boss! We fought a [Fire Elemental]! I’d recognize the skill of a [Master Smith] anywhere! You gave this to me as a prize!”

“Yay!” Melia clapped, fully caught up in the [Death Knight]’s hollow exuberance. She [Inspected] the bar and grinned. It met her standards of quality. “That’s a nice bar! I hope you put it to good use!”

“That’s…what you have to say about that?” Rook asked in disbelief. “You see an epic piece of loot a dungeon copy of yourself gives to somebody else and you say ‘yay’?”

“I mean, what else do I say?” Melia tilted her head. “It’s not like he stole it from me. And besides, if I wanted another bar like that, I’d just make it myself.”

Rook opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He closed it and opened it again several more times, but eventually he just sat there, scowling thoughtfully.

“There’s just one last question,” Braum asked. “The [Shadowy Figure]. Do you have any idea what it was talking about?”

“Not a clue,” Melia said pleasantly. The others stared at her, shocked.

“But…it’s…your dungeon, isn’t it?”

“No,” Melia explained patiently. “It’s Chaos’ dungeon. It just features me. I don’t know what she plans to tell.”

“You…didn’t run the rest of the [Acts]?”

“Nope!” Melia chirped cheekily. The others looked completely flabbergasted, so she felt like explaining a little more. “Well, I ran [Act 1] and the [Final Act].”

“So you know who the last boss is?” Warren asked hopefully, leaning forward. Melia pouted at him and crossed her fingers in an X, holding them up before her.

“Bzzt!” She said. “Not telling! That would spoil the fun!”

“You…think this is fun?” Evra asked in a choked voice.

“Of course!” Melia agreed happily. “What else would it be?”

“And there,” Moeldywn cut in, “Is where you see the difference between a mortal and a dragon.”

The others turned to her, almost begging her for answers.

“I believe I’ve heard parts of this tale, though not in full,” she started with a sigh. “The House that Death Built, by Willcox Wobblefist. His last great play, never finished, never published. The only reason I know it exists is because of the preliminary reports from this dungeon…but I’ve actually heard the first act as told in full. By, as you can guess, our dear dragon here. If I understand correctly, and I hope I do…I believe it will shed light on why the Heroes turned their backs on the gods at the very end…attacked the [Destroyer] in her home…and brought upon their own doom.”

“But…to attack the [Destroyer], they’d have to know it exists, would they not?” Braum asked. He had his notebook out and was waiting to fill it eagerly.

“Indeed,” Moeldywn nodded. “And they did. As I said, not all Heroes ventured forth with their own guilds exclusively. Many grouped up and partied freely. One of those people, not nearly as well known or remembered, is a certain black- or pink-haired gnome.”

Several heads swiveled in Melia’s direction, but she said nothing. After several moments of silence, they all turned back to Moeldwyn.

“But how would you know that?”

“She told me herself,” Moeldywn laughed. “At my request. Once upon a time, I was a very curious little girl. And I met an inquisitive little gnome. One full of outlandish claims, grand tales, and infinite revelations. I think few people, even historians, would know she was there during nearly every important battle. Every vital skirmish. Every decisive fight. It is perhaps Humanity’s biggest secret that the [Destroyer of Worlds] watched over us during our darkest hours, during our greatest time of need.”

Again the eyes turned back to Melia, and she wanted to wince. She loved fighting when it was a game, but now that it was real…she was afraid to hurt people. But even more than that, she was afraid to let them down. To disappoint, to not meet expectations. And she could already hear the question forming.

“Why?” Evra asked.

Melia’s mouth formed a tight line and she remained silent.

“Why would you hide among them? Why wouldn’t you help?”

Yes. That was it. Besides the fact that Melia couldn’t actually explain to them that it was a game, because obviously it wasn’t for the residents of this world, Melia knew people would resent her. They would see a person- no, an object with great power and say, “Why did you not solve our problems for us?”

And secretly, Melia wished she could. But she couldn’t, and she didn’t.

“How dare you?”

Melia looked up at Brandy, shocked. Her best friend was just starting to smile more, but instead of reverting to an apathetic frown, she almost looked furious.

“How dare you make such a claim? Do you have any idea what this gnome has given for everyone else? How much she has poured out so that others might not suffer?”

Evra looked slightly abashed, but it was clear the rest of the party had similar thoughts.

“But is it not the duty of the strong to protect the weak?” Warren asked. “As a fellow healer, you understand this, yes?”

Brandy pursed her lips and clamped her mouth shut. She folded her arms over her chest and remained silent.

“Perhaps that’s the lesson the dungeon wants to teach us,” Braum said. He flipped through his book and mumbled something about a [Shadowy Figure] under his breath. “Perhaps, what we are meant to see is why the [Destroyer] walked among us…and what we did when we found out.”

“Astute,” Moeldywn sighed. “That’s an answer I wish I had.”

The others looked at her and she shook her head.

“Last night, before you arrived at the [Moonwell], Eluna and I had a conversation. The details are private and I won’t reveal them all, but if you have any sort of ear to the winds of news, I’m sure you’ve heard of it already. War might be coming soon…and I find myself in a similar situation to the one you just proposed.”

“Your Majesty?” Braum asked. Moeldywn shook her head.

“How easy would it be to ask my friend to solve my problems? I’m sure she would, if I but asked. But the [Saint] is filled with wisdom. What manner of monster would that make me if I unleashed the [Destroyer of Worlds] upon my enemies, like some chained up, rabid dog? And then what would the rest of the world do once they found out what I’ve done? There would be more wars than one, I fear. The gods did not put her there to do our work for us, but to stop us if we go too far.”

“Would you not say that war is too far?”

“I would,” Moeldywn nodded, earning confused looks from the others. “But I would also say that letting the Executor rampage on his quest of ascension was a step too far as well. And yet, the gods did not unleash her. She watched, yes, and she helped take him down, but she did not coddle us. We must make our own way.”

The kitchen grew silent as Melia scraped the last few crumbs off of her 4th plate. Suddenly, she wasn’t hungry anymore (although it had nothing to do with the amount of food she’d eaten). She was grateful to Moeldywn. The princess was right: if she asked, Melia would comply in a heartbeat. She’d do everything in her power to make her princess happy…not because it was the right thing to do, but at her core, Melia was a bit of a people pleaser. She wanted people to be happy. She wanted them to smile. And so her first instinct would be to take care of her friends first and foremost.

At the expense of other people?

Melia didn’t know. And she really didn’t want to find out. She wished the world was as peaceful as it was when it was a video game…but, she supposed as it finally struck her, even back then, the game wasn’t really peaceful, was it? It merely had a T-for-teen rating logo to filter it. Melia didn’t want people to die. Not even if they were nameless or faceless. But she didn’t want her friends getting hurt, either. And if she was reading the situation correctly, they were heading right toward the thick of things.

Melia was caught in a mutually exclusive scenario. Somebody was going to get hurt…even if she stepped in. She couldn’t hide away in Abbyton forever…despite how much she wanted to hide her treasures away.

Yes, it was time to leave, and if she couldn’t talk the party out of confronting the Demon Lord, she’d make them stronger. And if it really came down to it and that wouldn’t be enough…perhaps she’d take a flight to the demon lands and have a little chat.

¹

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