MonroeByJahx

Chapter Two Hundred and Ninety-One. The Freedom.

Bob looked at the blue print that was spread across the table.  "This looks sort of familiar," Bob muttered, picking up one of the pieces of paper and inspecting it.

"That's because he's straight up ripping off the Serenity," Amanda sighed.

"It's a solid design!" Jack protested.

"If we weren't using mana crystals as fuel, sure," Dave agreed.  "Having the engines away from the body of the craft makes sense, if you are using fuel that isn't effectively inert.  G...

Chapter Two Hundred and Ninety. When in doubt, get the fuck out.

"Honestly, I think that will work out for the best," Amanda began.  "We're going to be doing a one day on, one day off rotation, although it might be three days on, three days off, or whatever have you.  One of the nice things about having two people for every role is that we're going to be incredibly flexible."

Dave nodded.  "We've all used Affinity Crystals, and we all know what it's like having to grind a skill up to the skill cap when it's significantly higher than yo...

Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-Nine. Less of a party, more of a raid.

So, Grammarly changed recently.  I've tried to get used to it, but it's actually *introducing* errors into my text.  Straight up cutting up words and smashing them together.  It's infuriating, and it's added way too much time to the editing process.  So, until I figure out wtf is going wrong, you're getting it raw.  My apologies for the inevitable spelling and grammatical errors.

Tier five Monroe had been huge.  Just over four...

Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-Eight. Hell, it's about time.

If you aren't reading the chapter title in your mind with the voice of the space marine from the Starcraft II trailer, you're doing it wrong.

Bob looked around the medieval village curiously.  There were a dozen or so buildings, only one of which was two stories.  That particular building was also the largest, and the sign in front of it showed a crudely painted bunch of berries next to a stylized wave, with the words "Sweetwater Inn" stenciled beneath.

Two Hundred and Eighty-Seven. Divine blessings do what?!

The next door that Sierra knocked on opened to reveal a young Adonis.  The man was tall, maybe an inch and a half taller than Bob's six feet three inches, with a classically handsome face, square jawed, with high cheekbones.  He had grey eyes, with slightest hint of laugh-lines, short trimmed brown hair, and the faintest trace of stubble.

He was well muscled, but not overly so, an athlete rather than a body builder.  He was nude, and showed no embarrassment regarding his ...

Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-Six. Unpleasant Recollections.

Bob had grown up in what could be, generously, termed an economically disadvantaged area.  He'd had to skirt around junkies as a kid, and had been indirectly exposed to drug addicts who had reached rock bottom.

The drug den he was walking through carried notes of that same sickly sweet song of despair, but it didn't carry the same rancid, unwashed desperation.  The people partaking of the various perception-altering substances, or spells, were clean, and well kept.

"This...

Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-Five. Om nom nom.

Rayouk should appear in your mind as the most excitable, fanatical, aggressive French Chef imaginable.

"What?" Bob asked, again.

"Ah, I saw that one," Cascadia said happily, "a trifle overdone, but still quite good."

"Hold up, what do you mean, my property?" Bob asked pointedly.

Yorrick sighed sadly and shook his head.  "It hurts me to know that people from another universe are better able to understand the popular cultural references of your o...

Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-Four. Heavy.

Mike sat down in the chair on the other side of the table, reaching out to scratch Monroe's ruff.

"Morning," Mike offered with a grunt.

Bob nodded, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.

He'd asked Yorrick to relay to relevant parties that he'd head back to the Empire to finish his tour in three days, so it wasn't too surprising that someone had found him on the morning he was supposed to leave.  He was just a bit surprised that it was Mike.

Either Mike didn't have any...

Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-Three. Reactions.

Bob ran the slicker brush through Monroe's thick coat, not only hearing but feeling the big cat's rumbling purr as he sprawled across his lap, accepting the kitty worship that was his rightful due.

They'd both nearly died.

He hadn't expected Torlin to attack them, despite the recent crash course he'd received in personal security.  He'd been operating under the assumption that with Yorrick next to him, someone the entire Empire knew to be at the peak of tier nine, that no one...

Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-Two. A pillar falls.

Bob woke up suddenly, holding a spitting and hissing Monroe against his chest.

His chest which didn't appear to have a gaping hole in it anymore.

He looked up, confused, and found what could only be described as a Dark Angel looking down at him, concern etched across her beautiful face.

"It's alright," she said soothingly, and Bob realized she had her hand on his shoulder.  "Both of you are fine now.  I'm guessing this was your first near-death experience?"

"...

Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-One. Abuses.

The stench was nearly palpable as Bob entered the barracks. It was a distressingly familiar combination of stale sweat and body odor, weighted with the heavy scent of despair.

Humans experiencing strong emotions produce pheromones and chemicals in their perspiration that other humans can detect. The most well-documented was fear, but rage and lust had supporting studies. Despair wasn't as well documented, but Bob knew that smell. He'd grown up in it. It wasn't until he'...

Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty. Indenture.

"You had a film crew ready?" Bob asked as a microphone was clipped into the collar of his armor.

"I didn't think you'd actually say no," Yorrick replied.

Bob shook his head and sighed, then slid Monroe from his Makres, holding the super-sized floof in his arms as another microphone was clipped to the big Maine-coon's armor.

"Why are we putting a microphone on Monroe?" Bob asked, directing his question to the woman who appeared to be in charge, or at least she was the one dir...

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Nine. Buckle up.

"Jason," Bob nodded.

In keeping with his resolution to face his problems head-on, he'd decided to go back to eating breakfast at the Adventurers Guild in Holmstead every morning.  If nothing else, it would force him to address any waiting messages.  He had a few ideas for trans-dimensional cellular service, but at the moment, when he was in his inventory or his Arcane Depths, he was unreachable.

Jason sat down across from Bob with a heavy thump.  He practically ooze...

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Eight. Fallout.

"That can't be right," Bob muttered.  He refreshed his browser, but the number didn't change.

"Eh, it's half a million higher than it was yesterday,"  Dave replied, sipping his coffee.  "This is really good coffee," he mused.

"The President sent it over a while ago," Bob said absently.  "There aren't that many people in the country."

"You're operating on an international scale," Dave took another sip.  "Where do you keep this stuff, I'd like...

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Seven. The UtahRaptor Deterrent.

"Are you sure?" Bob asked.  "You could do a lot of good here, as well as getting a headstart."

"While I'm not at all against popping over on the weekends to delve, I have hundreds of people relying on me back home, and while I'll be the first to admit that the administrative role I've found myself in is, without a doubt, the worst aspect of modern medicine, I can't abandon my responsibilities,"  Vikram replied.

Bob nodded.  Over the past few days, he'd gotten to kno...

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Six. You won't like Bob when he's angry.

"Madam President, Robert Whitman is here to see you."

Elania rubbed her temples.  She was currently dealing with a minor crisis, namely that a fifty-ton explosion had detonated in an unimportant, uninhabited section of the Himalayas.  China had a long history of playing dumb, diplomatically speaking, and they were playing that role to the hilt.  The possibility that they might be testing a micro-tactical nuclear shell was not outside the realm of possibility and would be ...

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Five. Fuck you, XOXO, Bob.

Bob fell out of the portal and into the room, his mottled green leather armor cinched into place and his staff in hand, ready to deal with the assholes who had kidnapped him and his friends.

He was not expecting to find two cooling corpses. He'd seen his share of injuries at this point. People got tired and careless when you had them delving for twelve hours straight, so when it came to injuries inflicted by claws and teeth, Bob had more experience than even the most veteran of emergenc...

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Four. It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you.

Bob woke up slowly.  He almost felt like he was sick, his head was stuffy, and he was having a hard time opening his eyes.  He also didn't remember going to bed.  He'd been on vacation, visiting Alaska.  He was going to go hiking through the Alaskan wilderness, leaving from Nome and just hiking out into the region.  Dave, Amanda, and Jessica had come with him.  They'd gotten to Nome and then gotten breakfast.

He couldn't remember anything past breakfast. &n...

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Three. The meatgrinder.

"Even Ranks! Step out low!" A voice shouted across the battlefield.

In a wave of uncoordinated motion, half the front row of people stepped forward, keeping their shields in front of them, while half the second row stepped forward with them, thrusting low between the now open spaces. The rows folded back together messily, but the maneuver had dealt significant damage to monsters that were hurling themselves against the shields of the front row.

Ed grimaced as he saw one of the shi...

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Two. Room and board.

We are almost done with the Empire, I promise.  Well, almost done with the chapters specifically devoted to showing Ed's visit.

"Professor Kol'Geith," Yorrick said warmly as he entered the classroom, "it's always a pleasure to see you, however, I must again protest your use of my title when I'm out of uniform."  Yorrick's tone was teasing, and Ed could tell the two were either old acquaintances or close friends.

"Yes, of course," Professor Kol'Geith smirked, th...

Two Hundred and Seventy-One. Education.

The Warlocks Tower was located in the center of the city, although the name was ill-fitting.  There were seven towers that surrounded an eighth in the center, joined together by covered walkways at a variety of levels, each tower to its neighbor and also to the central tower, which radiated walkways to the outer towers like spokes on a wheel.

"Seven towers, one for each of the Arcane Schools of Magic," Yorrick explained as they approached what Ed was mentally referring to as a camp...

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy. Dark beauty.

"This is the Black Cathederal," Yorrick gestured broadly as they walked up the steps.

Ed just nodded.  After their visit to the wall, Yorrick had insisted that this was the next logical stop.

The Cathederal looked exactly as it had appeared in Yorrick's promotional video.  Black marble flecked with gold, and an amazingly detailed statue of Mor'Noctum at the entrance.  What hadn't been on the video was the stunningly beautiful woman waiting for them just inside the d...

Chapter Two Hundred and Sixty-Nine. A bit of Ed and Yorrick.

Ed struggled to hold in a sigh.

When he'd gone into politics, he knew that he'd signed up for a job that would involve long, boring meetings.  Once he'd become the Secretary of Defense, he'd foolishly hoped that waiting for meetings to begin would become a thing of the past.

To a degree, it had been, at least when dealing with his own country.  He'd discovered that when dealing with foreign governments, the waiting game was back in play.

"Mr. Secretary," Y...

Chapter Two Hundred and Sixty-Eight. The advent of Greenwold's space program.

"That's everyone," Taylor reported with a sigh, "Except for Mr. Whitman and his little group, but they're unlikely to cause any incidents."

Elania nodded.  The vast majority of the people who had sought refuge on Earth from the Tide had only been peripherally aware of Earth beforehand and hadn't caused any trouble.  They'd enjoyed movie nights and had fallen in love with Tex-Mex and Thai food.

There had only been a few incidents, notably when a native of Earth, Amber Cre...