Chapter 075: The Legend of Jess

"How did I defeat him?" Jess lowered his voice and leaned close to Gred's ear. "Naturally, I used the dark magic you hate so much to give that arrogant shaman the beating of his life. First Fear, then shadow fire, Corruption, all of it. In the end he died miserably, writhing in pain and terror. He even spent his final moments repenting all the wrongs he'd done."

"That's a bit cruel, even for an orc." Gred frowned. "Still, I suppose dark magic really does work. Otherwise why would so many people willingly fall into evil just to chase that power?"

Jess stole a glance at him.

Gred caught the look immediately.

"You're lying to me, aren't you? The orc repented his sins to you? Did he even speak Common? That's the least believable lie I've ever heard!"

"Ha! That's where you're wrong," Jess said. "He actually did speak Common."

"What?" Gred stared. "What did you say to him? Orcs can talk to humans? Aren't they all raving maniacs who'd eat you down to the bones?"

"Eating people doesn't stop them from speaking human languages," Jess said. "Remember that class I mentioned before we came here?"

"I remember you mentioning something."

"It's an Orcish language class."

Jess said a few basic Orcish words he'd learned from runes. The dwarf shook his head in disgust.

"Can't stand listening to that!"

"Whether you like the sound or not, it worked," Jess said. "That orc was actually a shaman who'd lost contact with his clan. I told him where to find them, and he left."

"He believed you just like that?" Gred asked skeptically.

"I heard plenty about the orc clans back in Lordaeron. Of course I gave him evidence he could believe. Otherwise he'd have smashed my head open."

Gred nodded.

"Well, considering how clever orcs are, it's not surprising one of them got fooled by a sneaky little schemer like you."

"Wasn't I the bravest human you'd ever met?" Jess asked. "Since when did I become a sneaky schemer?"

"A liar can be brave. There's no contradiction there," Gred said. "Anyway, tell me what happened at Stonewatch. I'd like to hear how this great hero of the Alliance faced an army of gnolls and fought to the death without cheating with dark magic."

Jess gave him a general account of what had happened, emphasizing how the apprentice had looked down on him, only to be suddenly caught around the neck with a rope by the gnolls and dragged off the wall.

When he reached the fighting itself, he left out the imp and the dark power. Instead he painted a vivid picture of a lone hero atop a stone tower, holding back an army all by himself.

By the time Jess finished, Gred's one eye was wide.

"I'd have to be an idiot to believe you."

Jess laughed.

"The soldiers at Stonewatch can vouch for it. They even escorted me back to Lakeshire. You have no idea how many people I saved."

Gred studied him sideways for a long moment before slowly nodding.

"Fine. I'll believe you for now."

Jess stretched his arms out and leaned back. Above him, a tree branch reached into a blue sky dotted with white clouds.

"Ah, it's good to be alive. Don't ask me to come on another trip like this. I don't want to die, Gred. I'm starting to think my life is worth more and more."

Gred muttered with contempt, "Just don't come running when I find a job paying one gold coin."

"One gold coin?" Jess gave a dry laugh. "What, would you have to kill Rend Blackhand of Blackrock Spire all by yourself?"

Source matters here: NovelPhoenix publishes this story, while this chapter was copied without permission. Reading there supports the author.

"Hold on!" Gred grabbed Jess's forearm. "You said you didn't use dark magic, huh? Then why does that exposed wound look like a burn from shadow flame?"

Jess blinked.

"How do you know what a shadow-flame burn looks like?"

"Boy," Gred said, "I've seen wounded soldiers brought back after orcs burned them with shadow-fueled flames. They all had marks like that. You can't fool me."

"Fool you?" Jess said. "Besides, I couldn't use a spell like that on myself. Why would I burn myself?"

"Then how did it happen?"

"Gnolls," Jess said. "The gnolls have shadow warlocks too. They took part in the night attack."

"Fine." Gred let go of his hand. "You pass, for now."

Jess hissed at the pain and touched his bandage.

"It's not healed yet."

"Too bad," Gred said, clicking his tongue. "I was going to practice swordsmanship with you tonight. If you're still hurt, forget it."

"I could practice," Jess said. "But... both our swords are gone."

Gred's eye widened.

"You didn't bring back the Stromgarde sword?"

"I could barely carry you. How was I supposed to pick up anything else?" Jess shot back.

"What a loss." Gred lay down beside Jess. "Should never have come to Redridge."

That evening, Jess noticed far more soldiers in Lakeshire than before. They must have followed the king from Stormwind.

Thinking back to that morning, when he'd met Varian Wrynn and actually spoken to him face-to-face, it still felt unreal.

It wasn't because Varian was a king, or a noble. It was because he was the real Varian Wrynn.

A living hero from the world of Warcraft. He was still under twenty, and looked and behaved somewhat differently from the Varian of later years. But even so...

When Jess had played the game, he'd never felt particularly attached to Varian as a character.

He'd played the Horde side more often. Varian was the leader of the opposing Alliance, someone who showed up in cutscenes and story quests, made a brief appearance, and went away again. At best he was a familiar face. In the earlier stories, he often seemed to show up just to curse the Horde.

But actually talking to him here brought a strange feeling of familiarity. It was almost as though Jess had known him for years. Compared with the other people he'd met in this world, Varian gave him the uncanny sensation of a fictional person and a real person overlapping.

That night, Jess and Gred drank at an inn. People all around them were discussing the gnoll assault on Stonewatch. Many said a second gnoll war was about to begin.

Others complained that the war against the orcs had only just started to wind down, and already the kingdom had another enemy to deal with. What rotten luck.

Jess realized there was another reason the king had gone to Stonewatch to honor the soldiers. If the whole ceremony had been held in Stormwind and the gnoll attack had become public news, it might not have been Lakeshire that panicked. The entire kingdom could have been thrown into unrest.

Late that night, Jess went through his belongings.

Of the three bottles of Shadow Protection Potion he'd brought, only one remained. Gred had dropped one during the fight with the orc shaman, and Jess had drunk another at Stonewatch. The last bottle had somehow made it back from the lakeshore. He'd thought it was lost too.

Jess was now involved with the people at the Slaughtered Lamb and had a new way to learn shadow spells.

And the greatest threats in the Kingdom of Stormwind were, in practice, mostly creatures that relied on brute force: gnolls, murlocs, and wild beasts.

Even among them, spellcasters were rare. Most fought with teeth and blades.

So in Jess's view, what he needed most right now wasn't Shadow Protection Potion. It was healing potions and mana potions.

Lots of them.

When he'd researched Shadow Protection Potion, he'd come across many different healing and mana potion recipes. Some were stronger than others, and the ingredients varied enormously. He hadn't tried to memorize them. If he wanted to brew any, he'd have to look them up again after going home.

But how did they work here?

In the game, health and mana were numbers. What did those things mean in a real world?

Jess could roughly imagine what a mana potion did. Lately he'd experienced the feeling of running out of magical energy: a sluggish mind, a weak body, an inability to concentrate, let alone connect with the ley network, call on shadow, or cast a spell.

A mana potion might take away that exhausted feeling, wake him up again, and clear his head. In game terms, that would be restoring mana points.

Right now, his "mana" was pitifully low. Two or three Fear spells and he was finished. How could he keep himself and his companions safe like that?

If he could bring a dozen mana potions into every battle, he could have controlled that orc shaman until the creature died. Fear, stab him once. Fear, stab him again. Forget the shaman—even Orgrim Doomhammer would have gone down!

Of course, it couldn't be that easy.

Maybe mana potions barely worked. Maybe they cost a fortune. Maybe drinking several made the later ones useless. Or perhaps too many would send his heart racing like he'd swallowed far too much coffee, and he'd drop dead on the spot.

Something like that had to be the catch.

Otherwise, anybody who learned one control spell, picked up a machete, and carried a huge sack of mana potions could conquer all seven kingdoms.

But what about healing potions?

Jess pressed a finger against the bandage on his hand. A hot, dull ache answered him.

Would that pain simply disappear if he drank a healing potion? It sounded ridiculous.

Then he remembered the elf they'd met in Duskwood. The elf had carried a bottle of pink liquid, which Gred had called a Rejuvenation Potion.

In the game, a Rejuvenation Potion was a high-level healing potion. The elf had claimed that drinking it could repair even a wound made by a trap in a short time.

Could that really be true?

Then again, surely the elf wouldn't gamble with his own life. And Gred hadn't objected to the claim.

"Gred? Gred, are you asleep?" Jess whispered.

A tremendous snore answered from behind him.

Looks like I won't know for sure until I drink one myself.