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Hamish had been thrust into plenty of heated conversations he would rather have not participated in over the long 10 years as the alderman of Lute village. Kelp the Blacksmith arguing with Finn the Stable Master over prices of horseshoes. Nina and Mila both claiming one stole the other’s signature pie recipe. Hell, he was even dragged into a dispute between two visiting nobles once.
Yet, none of those came even close to the absolute chaos that he found himself in right at that moment. Worst part, perhaps, was the fact that he, very much inadvertently, may have been the cause of the searing debate that was unfolding for all patrons of the village tavern to witness.
“Don’t shit on me just because I’m sayin’ it how it is, Trevor!” The Shield Hero, also known simply as ‘V’ stuck her metallic index finger at her equally legendary companion, the Whip Hero, Trevor Belmont.
“And I keep telling you, you iron-skulled idiot, that I.was.defending.myself!” Trevor suddenly turned to Hamish, instantly filling the old man’s heart with dread. “Hamish, tell her! It was self-defense.”
“Sir Belmont, I don’t think I-“
“Nobody forced ya to outright murder death’s avatar , now, did they?!” To immense relief of the alderman, V butted in.
“Admit it, Belmont,” the otherworlder continued, “you broke death for all of us, and that’s how both you and I ended up in this shithole of a world.”
Admittedly, it was somewhat sad to hear one of the Legendary Heroes refer to his entire world as a ‘shithole’, but Hamish could see where the woman was coming from. Even taking aside the general misgivings and negative predispositions against the Shield Hero, the lives of people in Lute village and the kingdom as a whole weren’t exactly easy. And that was before the Waves Of Catastrophe started to appear.
Between famines, plagues and bandit raids, the general population outside of the capital cities suffered plenty of misfortunes. The royals and the aristocracy did provide help when required, but common folk couldn’t help but find that help quite cynical and given only to prevent outright uprisings by the masses. That help also never came for free - between taxes and levies on produce, the general population were the ones supporting the nobles, so one would naturally expect something in return.
A firm smack on the table pulled the village leader out of his musings about the rules of his, perhaps unjust, world.
“It was fucking self-defence, don’t you get it?!” Belmont was the source of the loud noise. Or, to be exact, his mug of beer was. “Tell her, Raphtalia!”
“Please keep me out of this, sire Belmont!” The demihuman looked beyond distressed at being asked to speak against her mistress.
“Yeah, Trevor!” V grumbled, “keep her outta this!”
“Fine!” The Whip Hero threw his hands in the air. “I broke death , as you say. Then where’s my gratitude, miss metal asshole?! ”
“Last time I heard, you said you walked into some pillar of bright light and were expecting to fade into nothingness.”
“Surely slaying monsters with this and other world’s most charismatic monster slayer is better than that?”
“Not if that monster slayer is such a whiny bitch!” V threw a cup of water at her companion, which the other managed to dodge, but only just about. Good that he did, too, because the metal vessel flew all the way across the room and even left a visible dent in the far wall. Naturally, nobody in their right mind would bring it up to the Shield to pay for that damage, especially not after the news of what had happened on their arrival had quickly made the rounds among the villagers.
“If only you could remember to use holy water like that when I told you to!” Trevor bellowed in return. The alderman had no clue what that comment even related to, because they weren’t talking about any unholy or hellish monster. The wyvern that they’d vanquished on their way in wouldn’t care for holy water, either. In the end, he just penned it down to yet another unresolved conflict between the two.
“A burnt hide isn’t worth shit now, is it?!” The female hero looked up, as if pleading to some god to bless her companion with whatever it was that would prevent him from annoying her all the time. “That’s why you’ve been sleeping in pigsties for half of your life, Belmont. No business sense whatsoever.”
“Firstly,” now it was Trevor’s turn to use his index finger as an accusative pointer, “I told you about the pigsties in confidence, you uncultured, unreliable pleb.”
“And secondly, try getting rich when even the sight of your family crest gets every pigfucker in the tavern itchy to kick you in the nuts.”
“Sounds awfully specific. Speaking from experience?” A devilish grin stretched across V’s face as she was presented with a golden opportunity to dig at her comrade even further.
“I’m not telling you anything about my life ever again, hic!” The Whip Hero stared into his mug to find it empty, yet again.
“Aw, please!” She rolled her unnaturally purple eyes. “You don’t go five minutes without complaining how you’ve got better this or nicer that back in your world!”
“Almost like it isn’t infested with all sorts of eldritch horrors.”
“Barman!” Trevor yelled out, as if that would save him from the onslaught of V’s quips. “Another beer!”
At first, the alderman thought that the Whip Hero’s requested reward of free beer for the night was the far cheaper option compared to the Shield’s ask for iron and wood, but even this early into the evening, he wondered if not setting limits on the volume of alcohol was a costly mistake. Belmont went through a mug every 10 to 15 minutes, and the sun hadn’t even fully set yet. What was worse, he barely seemed affected by the alcohol. Whether it was the Hero’s special ability, or just earned tolerance was hard to say. Hamish had already surmised that he’d negotiate a half-and-half split on expenses with the tavern’s owner, or the village’s treasury might be ruined.
“You ain’t getting out of this so easily, Belmont.” V looked like she had another set of pointed accusations to make, but thankfully for Hamish’s sanity, they were interrupted.
“IT IS HERE!!!” A young soldier who must’ve been stationed on lookout duty ran into the inn, pale as fresh December snow. “THE WAVE IS HERE!!!”
Hamish couldn’t believe he was actually grateful for The Wave’s arrival, for once. Facing a horde of monsters seemed less stressful than potentially mediating a conflict between the two heroes that seemed to despise each other.
However, despite what anyone who had witnessed them argue - Hamish included - would have thought about the relationship between V, the Shield Hero, and Trevor Belmont, the Whip Hero based on their latest interaction, the pair had immediately ceased their bickering, plunging the entire tavern into a bout of tense silence.
“You flank the attackers, Raphtalia and I will protect the city and its defendants?” V asked without as much as a hint of resentment towards her companion on her face. “I’ll be the bait, as usual.”
“You got it, V,” Trevor nodded, gripping the end of his whip that quickly transformed into a chain tipped with a morningstar-like head. Despite having imbibed what must’ve amounted to a full keg of alcohol, his voice and movements were as sharp as they were when he just walked into the tavern.
“Sir alderman,” the Shield Hero addressed Hamish, “please lead all elderly, women and children into a safe place, okay? The men can stay and help, but tell them to not get in our way, or they may get injured for nothing.”
“It will be done!” Hamish couldn’t say anything else. He had wished that there was more time to reinforce the village, particularly with the Shield Hero’s already famous craftsmanship talent, but at least they had the heroes themselves there to repel the waves. If he had any reservations about their abilities prior to meeting them, the sight of a pulverized head of a wyvern had certainly provided some encouragement.
——
A few hours (and many beers) earlier.
Rupert always felt himself fortunate. Son of a farmer, his family was the most successful in the area, so they soon found themselves wealthy enough to be elevated to the status of minor nobles. With that came more opportunities and even more fortune, much of those translating directly to him, the eldest son.
One of said perks was a fast-track route towards the role of a unit captain. Said unit was stationed near a rural area and comprised mostly of weaponised peasants, but it was still far better than being one of those peasants yourself.
Aside from stature, Rupert’s family’s connections got him stationed in what was considered one of the safest villages in the country - Lute village. Despite his objections that a more ‘embattled’ environment would help him prove his worth and advance, both of his parents insisted that a longer route through ‘keeping peace’ was better and, most importantly, better protected their freshly formed lineage.
When one of his aides alerted Rupert to the arrival of not one, but two Legendary Heroes, the young captain almost cried.
Finally, some excitement!
Another realization quickly settled in, though. This must’ve meant that the next Wave Of Calamity was inevitably forming in this area.
“Heroes! Welcome!” Rupert ran out shouting towards the two figures on horseback. The messenger didn’t say who they were, but he hoped for a Sword and Spear heroes, as the news had painted them as the most valiant.
When the two riders approached, closely followed by the third, the young captain’s heart dropped.
Instead of his would-be heroes, he saw a woman with a shield attached to her arm, and a man with a whip hanging down his side. What kind of heroes could a woman and a man using a whip make, anyway?!
The shield hero rode the horse like men and commoner women - facing forward, rather than riding side-saddle like noblewomen did. She didn’t seem so sure in the saddle, though. Not that it was unexpected - there wasn’t a female that Rupert knew of that could outrace a man, even if said man was very average.
“I, uh, welcome you to Lute village, revered heroes.” Despite his personal thoughts and feelings, Rupert was still a trained soldier and the two riders in front of me were essentially nobility, so he tried to follow the official customs as closely as he could.
“V, I think they weren’t told that you were a lass.” Trevor, the rarely ever summoned Whip Hero, called over to his compatriot, sending shivers down many a soldier’s back. Many of them must’ve thought the same things as their commander, but few had the etiquette training to prevent their faces from betraying what was on their minds.
“Are you surprised, Trevor? Looks to me like they get their news after everyone else, including the country's neighbours, had already heard about it,” came the answer from the slim, but well-built woman. If the soldiers’ mild disdain bothered her at all, she didn’t show it in the slightest.
It took Rupert a moment to figure out that her answer implied that their village was rather insignificant when it came to politics and goings-on of the kingdom in general. He couldn’t exactly object to that notion - it was, in essence, correct.
What did baffle him wasn’t what the Shield Hero had said, or how she reacted to their meeting, but how she looked. Namely, her face and arms - the only two bare body parts showing from under her armor and fur-topped cloak.
Her face, while very attractive in an unconventional sort of way, like a foreigner from a faraway land, was spoiled by a shockingly symmetrical scar that looked to have been patched up by a metal inlay of sorts. Her eyes were an impossible shade of purple and appeared to be backlit from the inside of her skull. And yet, when she looked at you directly, it was borderline mesmerising, rather than jarring.
The hands were another curiosity altogether. There was no flesh-coloured skin in sight, all replaced by matte metal. If they weren’t shaped in a perfect resemblance of a normal pair of hands and didn’t seamlessly fit with the natural flow of a hand, one could easily think they were seeing armor. Except, this wasn’t armor. The Shield Hero had metal for hands, and it bent and moved with the same fluidity than one’s true flesh would. Rupert couldn’t think of any normal person that he knew who would willingly replace their flesh and bone limbs with metal, and yet this woman borderline flaunted it in front of others.
A question from the male hero pulled the confused captain out of his overwhelmed stupor.
“Kind sir, what is your name and station in this fine settlement?” The Whip Hero, contrary to the earlier accounts that had happened to reach the village, was surprisingly courteous.
“Rupert, Rupert Helmsowrth, sire.” The captain bowed lower than he was trained, just in case.
“Pleasure to meet you. I am Trevor Belmont, and that lady your men were giving strange looks is V.” The matter-of-fact tone made the blunt observation that much more scathing. “And this cute, but very dangerous one behind us is Raphtalia.”
With the excitement and surprise of witnessing the two Heroes arrive, the captain had almost missed the fact that they had someone else with them.
“And say, you, sir Rupert Helmsowrth,” the other man continued before anyone could offer an excuse, “where would your best watering hole be, per chance?”
Rupert was expecting to be asked about the alderman's hut or, perhaps, the direction towards the nearest knight’s castle. The tavern was a somewhat unexpected question. Nonetheless, the trained officer that he was, he had pointed the two heroes towards the appropriate building.
Little did Rupert know that this would be the least bizarre situation that he’d find himself in when it came to these two extremely unorthodox heroes.
In fact, one of those weirder occurrences was immediately imminent.
The two heroes’ horses barely made five steps towards their destination when an ear-shattering screech bellowed from somewhere above.
“WYVERN!” One of the soldiers yelled pointing upwards.
Rupert unconsciously turned his gaze in the direction that his comrade was following to see a leather-winged monstrosity descend on the group.
“Steady yourselves, men!!” He called out to his men, knowing that less experienced of the lot were prone to panic. In truth, the young officer was worried how most of his regiment would fare when the actual Wave Of Catastrophe hit. He expected at least five men to drop their weapons to flee, although presence of Legendary Heroes, even the subpar ones, would potentially help with morale.
While he made sure his soldiers moved into an appropriate formation, Rupert took his attention away from the Whip and the Shield for a few moments. When he turned back, they were already on foot and in battle stances, ready to take the monster head on. Not an ounce of hesitation or fear could be traced on either of their faces.
Curiously, the wyvern aimed directly at the Shield Hero, whose name was simply V, apparently. She seemed to be expecting that and took the initial hit of the mighty claws with her shield that suddenly seemed at least twice the size than it was when they first arrived.
Trevor wasn’t losing any time while his fellow Hero took the hits. His whip transformed from a rope with a sharp tip into a long wire with barbs running across its entire length. Even looking at that ghastly weapon sent shivers down the captain’s spine. The Whip then proceeded to, well, whip one of the wyvern’s wings, leaving deep gashes all over. Sickly-green blood of the beast sprayed in all directions, accompanied by its pained wails. Seemingly unsatisfied with the level of damage of his initial blow, Trevor followed up with another, equally devastating strike.
With one of its wings left in bloody tatters, the scaley beast crashed onto the ground, sending mild tremors in all directions. Rupert found himself, just as all his men, simply incapable of doing anything but observing the crazy spectacle that was unfolding in front of them. A wyvern would prove troublesome even for their, rather numerous, regiment. And yet, these two were doing fine on their own. Better than fine, in fact - the battle looked very one-sided, and not in the beast's favor.
Interestingly enough, Raphtalia, the companion of the two heroes, didn’t look like she felt the need to join in and help. The only thing that she did do was to pull their horses by the reins and lead them further away from the action, cooing quietly to them to calm them down as a deadly battle raged just meters away. She seemed to be very good with animals, as they listened to her without protest and soon calmed down completely, to the point of joining in observing what was happening with what could only be described as mild interest.
“V, you’re on!” The Whip Hero yelled as he dodged a swipe of the horned tail and retreated to a safe distance.
‘What’s the Shield going to do?’ Rupert wondered. It was widely known that the shield-wielding otherworlders were unparalleled when it came to defense, but could barely dish out any damage on their own. Historic accounts always mentioned Shields relying on their companions for damage. After all, wasn’t that why she was traveling with the Whip?
And then it happened. V jumped higher than any man or woman that Rupert had ever witnessed and… punched the wyvern right between the eyes with one of her metal arms. To call the damage of that hit catastrophical would be a very gross underestimation. Multiple soldiers let out involuntary grunts when the monster’s head, quite literally, exploded in a spray of blood and gore.
“How, in the name of all that is holy, did she do that?” Murmured one astonished soldier.
“That woman is more of a monster than any wyvern,” said another.
“I told you to stop wearing that stupid amulet, V!” Trevor grumbled, as if they hadn’t just slain a beast that had every ability to ravage the entire village. “I could be drinking beer by now.”
“Oh, will ya let it rest already, Trev.” V simply waved him off. “It attracts monsters, yes. But it also attracts money.”
“See! A cent!” She suddenly knelt down and picked a silver coin from the ground.
“Besides,” the terrifying woman raised her shield as she approached the headless corpse, “I don’t have this one yet.”
With that she broke off one of the wings and placed it inside the shield .
“Oh, neat!” Judging by the lack of any reaction from her fellow hero, this must’ve been a common occurrence. Legendary weapon property, perhaps?
“Winged Shield!” She proclaimed and her shield instantaneously transformed into a pair of wings mounted on a darkened silver board like a trophy. The wings were awfully similar to those of the massacred animal. V then proceeded to sheath the transformed shield on her back. That’s when the wings started to flap and the hero rose up into the air.
“Lord save us all.” Trevor was wincing. “Last thing we need is you learning to fly.”
“But what I really want to know is how you managed to sheath it. Thought it was permanently attached to your hand?”
“Thought so too, but the tooltip told me it’s okay.” V performed a few maneuvers before landing back on the ground with a soft thud.
“Speaking of.” The Whip’s face suddenly lit up. “How much experience did that ugly bitch get us?”
“Not much, surprisingly.” V seemed to be the only one who understood what the man was referring to. “Hundred ninety for you, two hundred for Raphtalia, hundred for me.”
“Ehh,” Trevor shrugged, “better than that cave troll from yesterday. That one didn’t even have anything to loot on him.”
Rupert managed to look away from the strangest two people that he had ever met only when an alderman approached the scene.
“Heroes, heroes!” Hamish, who Rupert considered to be his friend by this point, rushed towards them with his hands raised high in a welcoming gesture. “So good of you to come! I was starting to worry Lute won’t be protected from the Waves!”
“And what is this? He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the bloodied corpse on the ground. “A wyvern? Here?!”
“Don’t worry, we dealt with it. No monsters should come for the rest of the day. I’m V.” V extended her arm towards the village leader, who hesitated for a moment when he saw what it was made of, but quickly regained his composure and shook it.
“Trevor.” The handshake with the Whip hero proceeded much more smoothly.
“I believe a reward is in order for slaying this ghastly monster!” The alderman proclaimed. “You can tell me what is it you want on the way to my house and I will do my best to accommodate you.”
“Can we talk at the tavern instead?” At the mention of yet another obstacle between him and his beer, Belmont grinted audibly.
“C-certainly,” the old man nodded.
“Wait. I gotta check something first.” V’s words produced another, louder grunt from her companion.
“Gimme your sword,” she asked one of the soldiers at random.
The chosen man gave Rupert a puzzled look, but complied after the captain gave his permission in a form of a nod.
V took the weapon by the blade, holding it just with her index finger and thumb. It was a standard-issue sword - sturdy, reliable, but nothing exceptional. The female hero appeared to pinch the weapon, exerting some pressure on it. Every soldier gasped when the weapon suddenly began to bend. V kept at it until the sword bent to such an extent that it was almost at the right angle.
“You can’t do shit with these toothpicks against the monsters,” the metal-armed woman complained.
She then proceeded to count heads before turning her shield to face the floor and dumping a whole pile of swords onto the ground.
“Take one each. These should be better.”
Describing these new swords as ‘better’ was proving a huge disservice to their true quality. Rupert got to hold his family’s heirloom sword once - that weapon was famous among the nobility as a hallmark of masterful craftsmanship, but even it would look like a child’s toy compared to each sword that V nonchalantly dumped on the floor.
“Could you sign this for me please?” V handed the captain a document that she somehow managed to draft in the short time that he was inspecting his new weapon.
“Bill of sale of goods,” Rupert read out loud. Dread settled deep in his gut at a realization of just how much even one of these swords would cost.
To his immense shock, the final cost was listed as 30 copper coins, putting each, potentially priceless sword at 1 coin each. When he scanned higher on the page, the mystery of the low price quickly resolved itself. At full price, each sword would cost 300,000 gold - cost of a medium-sized castle - but a ‘Special Calamity Preparation Discount’ dropped the final sum towards the edge of being free.
“Can you hurry up your tax-dodging scheme and get a move on already?!” Trevor gave the female hero a death glare.
“You mean my very noble endeavor to equip these fine lads and lasses with appropriate weaponry ?” From V’s tone it was clear that she didn’t believe a word of what came out of her own mouth.
“Just sign underneath please, and the swords are yours.” She handed an odd-looking pen to Rupert. It didn’t have a quill-like tip, but instead had some sort of felt point that glistered with ink. Using it was refreshingly simple and he managed to leave his signature without a single smudge. Even this woman’s stationary was impressive, for god’s sake!
“Thank you kindly, sir.” V gave a curtsey which felt incredibly out of character after witnessing the brutality which she had just applied at the misfortunate wyvern.
“What about the money?” Rupert thumbled with his belt to try and unhook his purse.
“What about it?” The Shield Hero shrugged. “Just buy me beer for that amount, and we’re good.”
Rupert was so elated by the acquisition and the effect that it had on his men - every single one of them, that he was prepared to buy a whole brewery for this strange woman.
“Alderman,” the Shield Hero called the village leader over.
“Yes, lady Shield Hero?” Hamish responded instantly.
“Nobody to touch the wyvern. I will butcher it for parts later.” Her tone implied that there would be unfathomable, but most certainly grave consequences for disobeying that order.
“However, if someone wants to bid for its parts, they are most welcome to approach me with their best offer.” At the notion of making profit, she suddenly sounded like the nicest, kindest of people.
“I am going to pull you there myself if you don’t move your bloody metal ass, V!” The Whip Hero was absolutely seething with beer-deprived rage by that point.
“Ok, ok. Coooming.” V looked up to the heavens in exacerbation, but did start walking in the direction of the tavern. “Also, my ass ain’t metallic. It’s synthetic. When are you gonna learn the difference already, Belmont?!”
“Oh, sincerest of apologies, my barely human friend .” Despite the fact that they were finally making their way towards the beer, Trevor was still visibly and audibly agitated from all the delays. “Move your synthetic ass faster, will you?!”
Raphtalia set an example for the stunned soldiers and silently followed the duo and the alderman. Rupert, unwilling to give away just how stumped he was by everything that had just transpired, sheathed his brand new sword and swiftly followed suit.