Arc 4 | Last Resort (1)
LAST RESORT
PART 1
The forest was silent when the devil came to roost.
It brought with it a charming smile to match its handsome face, black pushed-back hair, and a white LL Bean fisherman sweater warm enough to curl by the fire. But its welcoming image was meant to deceive. To become a friend of mine, though we’re anything but friends. It was in his name—in his nature. Administrator Elvis, I called him, one of the few of his kind who oversaw dungeons like mine.
And now he was here again, probably enjoying the carnage last night.
After I invited him inside the cabin, Elvis studied the living room like a strict parent. All but three of his guards stayed outside per my request, which the administrator honored much too quickly for my taste. He wasn’t scared of me, and without a scenario triggered, I couldn’t read his Resolve, his emotions, or his will. And Elvis knew that. If I triggered one, they’d know about it immediately, and I had several ideas about how they would react—most of it probably wouldn’t end up well for me. Even if he was scared, he was doing a fine job hiding it.
But my Dread, well, that they could feel. I saw the hairs at the nape of the guards’ necks standing up once they entered the cabin’s threshold. They (and everyone outside) looked human, and I wondered if some illusion magic was at play. I’ve never seen an elf before, I mused.
“May I sit?” Elvis asked politely, gesturing to the couch.
I nodded. “Please, and help yourself.” At the cost of one crystal, a plate of chocolate chip cookies, lemon curd, perfectly-cut marbled brownies, snickerdoodles, four tall glasses of milk, and a steaming pot of citrus herbal tea materialized on the coffee table.