A grim sense of resignation settled over Zeta as she hobbled her way through the streets of ithacar proped up by a walking stick. The citizens of ithacar were surprisingly unfazed by the emaciated woman wearing a blood spanned guild cloak slowly making her towards Kardonks workshop. Though they did shoot her the occasional concerned glance and this whisper of their thoughts work whinged with concern for her well-being. Zeta had no context for empathy and thus was confused. Did the ithacarians show concern towards a rifle when it was damaged?

Each step t felt like a Herculean labor and she how to stop multiple times to rest. She knew she was likely to be reformatted for her failure for losing Mary for so far failing to retrieve her. For failing to accomplish her mission. With nothing else to do but await the order to make her way to District 2. She decided to let Cerene try and help her to let Chalk try and help her to let kardonk try and help. Zeta would not let Tallulah help, her emotional outbursts reminded her too much of father and as a consequence her mistrust of her was the highest of any of the people she had met thus far. Zeta briefly considers making her way to the wall again but she knows that she is too weak to it even attempt to jump for it and that Cerene would incapacitate her the moment that she tried.

Zeta wondered why they even bothered, why they would go so far out of there way to help an object, an asset , something to be used. It just didn't make sense to her perhaps they wanted something from her she was more than willing to eliminate targets for them.

Finally after a long and tedious journey through the city. Zetas mind feels the Peace of the psychic dampeners as they wash away The whispers In Her mind. She has arrived Zeta decides to float the rest of the way wobbly as that may be accidentally falling against the door to Kardonks workshop. Before she even entered Zeta reaches out telekinetically and crumples the 1.3 m pipe into a spiral shape, the sound of metal being crunched substituting her knocking. This expenditure of psychic effort briefly caused zeta's collar to Glow yellow.

(This is the conclusion to this post.)

All across the Nine Hells, from the gleaming resorts of the Fourth Circle to the eternal pub brawls of the Seventh, broadcast orbs and televisions flickered, switching to the emergency channel. Every diabolic resident turned their attention to the screen, greeted by the smirking visage of their leader—John E. Hellfire, microphone in hand, standing beside a large crimson curtain. With his slicked-back horns, impeccable suit, and showman's grin, he could almost be mistaken for a game show host.

"Ladies and gentlemen, infernal lords and hellish rabble, your beloved CEO comes bearing great news. Remember the terrorist attack that tore open breaches between Hell and the Abyss? What a shitty day that was, am I right? But worry not—I have finally caught the culprit. Behold..."

With a dramatic flourish, John rips away the red cloth, revealing an amber pillar with a figure suspended inside.

"Trapped in amber for your viewing pleasure—Livia! The once-mighty diabolist, now brought low by yours truly. Oh, and I guess this guy helped as well." The devil pulls out a small, crumpled photo of the Paleomancer before tossing it aside with a dismissive flick of his wrist.

A wave of cheers ripples through Hell as devils of all shapes and sizes erupt into celebration. In a dive bar in the Third Circle, a three-headed bartender forgets his task, letting molten liquor spill over the counter as he pumps his fist in the air. At the Infernal Stock Exchange, soul-trading brokers momentarily pause their ruthless deals to raise a toast to their CEO. From the gladiator pits to the dens of sin, a cacophony of hoots, howls, and stomping hooves shakes the very foundations of Hell itself.

"Now, I won't lie, it was a formidable fight—for my assistant. But you know me, I love pushing my employees to give 110 percent."

The wild cheers simmer down, replaced by amused chuckles, and the occasional dry, knowing laugh. Amidst them, a handful of weary sighs escape from lowly office grunts.

"Once cornered, she even tried to make a deal to save her skin. Sadly for her, I'm not one to agree to a bad offer."

John saunters forward, tapping the microphone against the hardened amber with a metallic clink. He leans in as if expecting a response.

"Say, would the guest of honor like to say a few words to the audience?"

A long pause. He tilts his head, smirking.

"Aw, she's shy."

Another wave of laughter spreads through the circles of Hell, each region expressing its amusement in its own twisted way. In the depths of the Ninth Circle, where traitors are frozen in ice, even a few damned souls manage to roll their frostbitten eyes in exasperation.

"I did make sure she's conscious and awake in there, relegated to an eternity of stasis. What better decoration for my office, am I right? A constant reminder of what happens to those who try to mess with Hell—and more importantly, me."

Throughout Hell, celebrations break out. Bartenders pour drinks, gamblers place new bets, and gladiators resume their bloody matches with renewed vigor. Fights reignite, debts are settled in blood, and the eternal suffering of the damned carries on—now with just a little extra enthusiasm.

That cowardly princess had told Anais that attacking anyone in this palace especially the empress was a terrible idea and that she shouldn't do it. But what did that coward know, she thought to herself.

They had surprisingly much freedom after that weird creature their oppressor called master visited. They weren't even checked for anything when they went outside be it for shopping or anything else. This made it quite easy for Anais to find some coconspirators to help get her a weapon that should definitely take care of this phony Empress.

She sold her favorite earrings to buy a submachine gun, it was better to be safe then sorry. Additionally she sold an amulet her father gave her to buy ammunition, one magazine was sufficient she supposed. She very much knew she was getting ripped off in those deals, but what did it matter? They were probably gonna kill her for Regicide anyways.

Now that it turned night she was ready. Anais made her way to the Rulers sleeping chamber, the gun hidden under some drinks and flowers in a basket. Even at night there was too many patrols and guards to open carry, but they wouldn't search her so getting past them would not be much trouble.

On the way there she noticed that the closer she got to the chambers, the more decorated with gold and statues the hallways became.

Once she stood before the room she stopped. She as very confident so far but now Anais had to get past two guards that looked especially intimidating, she was rethinking the whole thing but that cowardly princess telling her it was a bad idea from the start only motivated her further.

"Let me through I need to see the empress!"

The guards looked at each other, then back at her. They didn't know their Queen and Empress had a visitor scheduled for today but she didn't look as intimidating as the usual visitors and they really didn't wanna make their lord angry. In the end they just decided to let her through.

"Idiots..."

She whispered to herself.

The room appeared to have extremely thick walls, probably to make it soundproof. This was perfect, maybe they wouldn't even hear the gunshots from right outside. Maybe she would make it out of here after finishing the job.

She got the gun out of the basket, Anais turned off the safety and aimed at her. Hazema was right in front of her, sleeping as if no evil could befall her. Her peaceful sleep frankly pissed Anais off.

She breathed in, stepped closer and fired the entire magazine right into the draconic humanoid.

"Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!"

As the final bullet leaves the chamber she relaxes, it was done. There was no way-

"Oh?"

A terrible voice sounded from behind her

"A wolf among sheep? I forgot your name but you're sitting close to me with the princess from now on Freckle-girl!"

Anais couldn't believe her eyes, she was just sleeping infront of her how did she get behind her?

"Monst- HOW did you survive? Was this another sick trick of yours? Another illusion?"

"Nope! Most of them actually hit me despite your terrible aim. You poor thing, did no one tell you that you won't get far with just regular bullets? Good old me isn't so fragile anymore I'll have you know! Now I think some punishment is in order, I'll see you in two weeks!"

"Wait- what did you mean by me being a wolf among sheep?! Was this a test?! Where will I be for two weeks—"

Anais suddenly went quiet, she couldn't speak anymore. No, it was worse, she couldn't move anymore. She realized that she couldn't even blink. It's like she turned to stone.

Thats when it hit her, all the statues around the 'palace' they weren't statues, they were just petrified people.

"I'll just keep you in my bedroom for two weeks that way I can keep an eye on ya little troublemaker!"

/uw image source is some ominous building in manhattan that looks really evil!

Yes you read that right. I have claimed all the land inside the pink circles and I'm declaring war, on who? On everyone (except the sea cause the sea is cool) anyone who wants to join the great empire of boom can enlist below

In the deepest part of the Council Archives, Aldin, the Aspect of Knowledge, paced around the forbidden section looking for.... something. Something had.. has? Will... will happen. Something awful, but he couldn'tput his finger on it. Something was off. His gaze, ever insightful, traced the intricate weaves of time and destiny. For eons, he had been the guardian of wisdom, the keeper of secrets. But now, an unsettling disturbance rippled through the very fabric of the cosmos.

Suddenly, a rift tore open in the continuum, and through it stepped a figure both feared and reviled – the God Slaver . A being of immense power, forged in the dark crucible of forgotten realms, he thrived on the subjugation of deities. His presence was a blight, a stain upon the divine order. The ripple behind him held an echo, their final battle where he had severed The God Slaver's connection to his divinity.

"Aldin," the God Slaver sneered, his voice a chilling echo, "You may have severed my bond, but even now, you are not beyond my reach. Witness my final jest."

With a cruel smile, he unsheathed his fearsome blade, All-Red, a weapon drenched in the blood of fallen gods. Aldin, caught off guard, desperately conjured its ethereal twin, All-Blue, forged in the light of pure knowledge. The two deities clashed, their weapons meeting with a thunderous roar that reverberated through the heavens. "Don't you know how to stay dead??" Cried Aldin.

"I could say the same TO YOU!!" Screamed The God Slaver!

The moment the blades connected, a cataclysmic shockwave exploded from their point of impact, tearing through the celestial realm. The God Slaver was hurled back into the rift, his malevolent laughter fading into the abyss. But the collision had severed more than just his sinister presence. The very thread that bound Aldin to the greater body of the Aspect of Knowledge was cut, unraveling his divine essence.

Aldin felt an unfamiliar sensation course through him—mortality. His omniscient mind, once an endless wellspring of wisdom, now grappled with the limitations of a finite existence. It was... quiet. The silence was so loud... his remaining power threatened to tear him apart, it was all too much! Stripped of his Divinity, Aldin fell to the hard stone, unconscious and entirely alone...

“Welcome, everyone. Glad you all came here.”

Ulrick started uneasily. Big speeches were never really his style. He much preferred to rather listen to them from a shadowy spot.

There was no time to wait, however. Most of R&A knew he went out to challenge Hirk to make him retake his position, and both of them returned a few days ago.

Rumors already started spreading, so he had to clear up everything as soon as possible.

“As probably all of you know, I went out last week when R&A caught whispers of a man eerily similar to Hirk wandering around the countryside.”

“I intended for him to fight me, to resolve the question of R&A leadership.”

“And so, we did. We had an official duel for the seat, right in the middle of a ghost town.”

He glanced across the audience, Relief Force, and many of the “Notable Mages” too. The crowd’s anticipation was almost tangible in the air. Time to deliver the news.

“We didn’t finish the duel. Instead, Hirk proposed an idea for a new leadership structure.”

“In the future, R&A would have two leaders: one elected by the people, and one elected by an internal vote. Two heads, overseeing both each other and the organization.”

“This would not only mean a more stable structure but also lessen the workload of the leader. We’re still sorting out who’d get which tasks.”

The hall was filled by a swirl of murmurs. Some fearful, some excited. Ulrick had a good guess what most of those were about. Good thing he was just about to address that.

The true grand news of the day.

“I know, some of you must be wondering, how a Council wing would have two seats. Would the Council even allow that?”

“And for that, we have a simple solution. One we’ve been planning for so long.”

Ulrick put the speech to a short halt, to raise the tension even further. Before dropping the most important declaration of all.

“We’re going independent from the Council.”

/uw I constantly forget Arach’s whole government thing is also a corporatocracy. So you all get some evil capitalism, as a treat.

/rw

Arach paces around her office as one of her kin continues to explain the situation. The spider had entered the office already shaking with fear, and anxiety had only worsened since his entrance. He had the unenviable job of telling Arach that her factories had to be temporarily shut down due to issues with disposing the waste they produced. The last messenger who had given her bad news ended up being thrown into her fireplace, so his fear is well warranted. Once he finally finishes speaking Arach stops pacing and begins to inquire.

“What do you mean ‘we ran out of space’? We’ve only filled up a single dump site. There’s plenty more places we can put another without encroaching on any of our allies’ territory.”

*The tone of her voice alone is enough to have the spider fearing for its life.

“Well yes, but if we dump anywhere else it risks run off from rain carrying pollutants to nearby lakes or rivers. And if we dig into the ground to stop that from happening it could lead to the pollutants seeping into the groundwater connected to wells used by villages nearby the potential dumping areas.”

“Are they associated with any of our allies?”

“No your grace, they’re all independent settlements, most of their populations are under one hundred people.”

“Then I fail to see how runoff is an issue.”

“Well, given there are multiple people actively trying to expose your… less moral acts. Then if this was revealed it might have actual consequen-“

Arach interrupts the pitiful arachnid by slamming her hand onto her table. Her tone now sharp and critical.

“I have broadcasted myself committing the mass murder of innocents and no one batted an eye. Do you really think that anything meaningful will actually happen if people find out I am dumping industrial waste in a way that hurts people? No! They’re going to ignore it, like they always do. Because it’s easier for them to ignore or forget than it is for them to stop attending my parties or buying my products. They may act outraged for a time, but it will not lead to anything! They’ll conveniently have ‘forgotten’ by the time I host my next party.”

“I-I meant the investors… your grace.”

Arach stifles a chuckle directed at the trembling spider.

“The investors? Let me ask you something, servant. What do you think the investors would dislike more: me being exposed for dumping toxic waste improperly, or all of our factories SHUTTING DOWN FOR AN UNDETERMINED AMOUNT OF TIME BECAUSE WE CANT THROW OUT OUR TRASH! Your concern and input is neither warranted nor needed, I have already made up my mind.”

The messenger stands there in silence, careful not to provoke Arach after such a volatile reaction. Once a few seconds of silence pass Arach gives him an order.

“Go dump that waste and order the factories to return to normal production, before I lose any more profit than I already have.”

“Y-yes your grace.”

The spider scurries out of the room, thankful to still have his life. Arach, meanwhile, returns to a pile of documents spread across her desk. She has more important things to do than catering to the ethics of others.

Valarie stood outside the large doors. This felt ridiculous. Around a month ago she would not have to wait outside and would have been able to just enter the old throne room. Now some senate used the room for their own and she had to be allowed to enter. It felt ridiculous.

After a few hours of waiting, the doors opened wide. Valarie walks into the chamber. What was once the great throne room of prince Sylvane was now the chamber of the Ce’Darian senate. Chairs behind long desks sit in front of the statues on the sides of the great hall. There was not many of these chairs, only about 31, enough for 2 for each province and an additional one for Shadeholme. Then at the far end of the hall on a raised platform is the throne of Sylvane, now with an ornate desk in front of it. Each of these seats are filled by different peoples; dwarves, humans, shades, and even some elves or valkyries. Rose, friend of Sylvane and chancellor of the republic, sat in her father’s throne.

Sylvane’s old royal guard (that he rarely ever used) stood guarding the senate chamber. Blood shades made with dragons’ blood. All eyes were on Valarie as she entered with a stack of papers. Rose smiles as the Valkyrie general entered the chamber.

“General Valarie, my good friend! Sorry for the wait. The senate has been discussing the recent weapons tests preformed by the Iron Chains on the border. Currently we are discussing military reforms. Before we put it to a vote I wanted some of your input. Currently only shades are allowed to serve in the military. We were about to vote on if we should allow citizens to volunteer. What are your thoughts? This will not include a draft.”

As she says that last sentence, she glares at the rest of the chamber. As Valarie prepares to speak, she clears her throat.

“I would not necessarily be against it. Traditionally numbers are not a problem, but our current military make up reduces our effectiveness in the day while ensuring peak performance during the night. Having additional soldiers without that limitation could help, but I would keep it limited to volunteers and career military officers. A draft would likely be fairly bad for the quality of the soldiers we employ.”

“Thank you general. Now we can put it to a vote. Opening the military to all citizens, all in favor please rise. Those opposed stay in your seats.”

Most of the room stands up. There are only 7 holdouts. Rose smiles as she sits back down.

“The law passes with overwhelming support it seems. Now onto our next piece of legislation, a general increase to military funding. This will be used to increase the quality of the equipment the army and navy uses, and for additional black powder research for the dwarves engineering guild.” The dwarves in the chamber smile smugly as it is brought up. “Any initial proposals?”

Valarie clears her throat. “Excuse me. There was one thing related to this topic I wanted to bring to the senate’s attention.” She pulls the documents up. “I would like to make a proposal for a military project that would require a large amount of funding to achieve. I sincerely believe it is vital for our survival as a nation and for our future.”

Most of the senators look uninterested or hostile to the idea. Few look interested, and among them is Rose, who is the first to speak on the matter.

“I am inclined to agree with general Valarie about us needing new military projects. Just upgrading what we have and getting new soldiers is hardly enough. Especially with the new weapons the Iron Chains have demonstrated to us the other day.”

She plays to their fears. The hostility and disinterest practically dies then and there in most of those who oppose the idea.

“We will be voting on official resolutions and funding proposals after a short recess.” She hits her staff on the floor. “Meeting adjourned.”

The senators begin to file out of the room. Rose is the last to leave with Valarie following behind her. The two walk away to Valarie’s office to talk in private. As they enter Rose takes a seat in front of Valarie’s desk and Valarie sits in her chair. As she does, Rose slumps in her chair.

“Uggghh…I hate all of this formality stuff…”

Valarie rolls her eyes. “I see you haven’t changed much in the several thousands of years since you fell into that coma. Why did you even run for chancellor if you knew you’d hate it?”

She sits back up straight, but her face still is annoyed. “Because, Sylv practically died to get me awake again…I owe it to him to put effort into continuing where he left off.” She shakes off the annoyance and leans against Valarie’s desk excitedly. “So…What new toy do you have in mind Val?”

Valarie slides over a file that reads “Project: Starlight” on the front. Rose opens it and reads through it and whistles to show how impressed she is.

“Goodness sakes…This thing is huge.”

“It will take quite a bit of resources and manpower to complete. I was thinking if we could convince geomancers from Earth’s Embrace to assist, this could go faster than it would go without them. We will also need a large amount of celestial energy. Is the Shadeholme Well almost rebuilt to harvest that stuff?”

“It just finished that today. We just need to get the canisters up there so we can collect the stuff. The new use of the Well thats being prepared will also be completed soon. We’ll do a public test soon.”

“Understood. If you look on the map, I have chosen an unclaimed island that is perfect for the project. All we need is for the senate to vote on it and make the claim. Several other small useless islands can also be claimed to mask what is going on if we need to.”

Rose laughs. “Love the deception Val! Give me the map and list of islands and I will make sure it goes through. Besides, I’m sure those islands will be great way stations for construction. Keep things hidden if you can. I’ll take care of getting the funds and land, and you will make sure this project of yours actually happens in the field. Sound like a plan?”

“Sure.” Valarie gets up from her desk and opens the door for Rose as she gets up to leave. Before she does Valarie stops her. “Oh, one more thing. I know you quite well. You were around before the celestial civil war and you were very close with all of us. So, what’s your real plan? Ou and I both know you’re not the type to just sit around and build an empire.”

Her expression is serious and she glares at Rose. Rose on the other hand just smiles and looks at her with soft eyes.

“Oh Val. Still obsessed with knowing every detail of what’s going on. I get that Sylvane always told you his plans, but I like to run things a bit differently. besides, I want to keep it as a surprise for everyone! I know that you will just love it.”

Rose finally leaves the room with a smile on her face. Valarie closes the door and gets to work. By the end of the week the Ce’Darian senate voted for Shadeholme to annex several unclaimed islands and increased military spending by a significant margin. Said islands were left abandoned due to being seen as useless by most. Many people searching for work would willingly join the army, or if they were well off, they would join the navy’s sky fleet.

/uw if I made a ping list for my lore posts (Shadeholme and or Journey posts), who would want to be in it?

(CW: injury, cruelty, disfigurement, lobotomy)

Exhaustion and fear. That was all Chloe could feel as she ran through the maze of halls that had become her prison. She knew she was underground, and yet it felt more like being in an alternate dimension. The sound of legs clicking against the floor sent her to duck behind a stack of crates that had been left in the hall. As the clicking began to grow louder she held her breath. She had tried to escape before, so she knew how well these things could hear. All she could do now was hope it couldn’t hear her heart beating out of her chest.

Her stomach dropped as the sound stopped immediately in front of her. She knew she should at least try to make a run for it as she heard the thing move toward the stack of crates. But her own fear paralyzed her. Her mind screamed to run, to move, to do something, but her body remained motionless. She stood perfectly still, time slowed, second felt like minutes. Her heartbeat echoed in her ear, deafening, it drowned out even her own thoughts. Eventually, she began to run out of air. She felt tears well in her eyes, her vision blurring, until eventually she broke. Her gasps for breath surely revealed her position to whatever was behind the crates. She looked up, towards the top of the stack, only for there to be nothing. One of the boxes that had been there was gone. Whatever was there hadn’t heard her, it was just there to take that container and go. The pounding of her own heart must have drowned out the sound of it walking away. She would have laughed if she wasn’t still in danger. She quickly picked herself back up and continued running down the hall.

As she ran, she began to think. How had her life come to this? Well, like most things that went wrong, it was her own damn fault. She had been in a rough spot. She had no home, no money, her family had cut her off, her friends had abandoned her, it was all just too much. She shouldn’t have ran away like she did, but that didn’t stop her, no matter how much she wished it did now. She was just a stupid teenager. Even if she was technically also an adult, it didn’t change much. She had ended up lost in the woods, it took her days to find some sort of path. The only thing keeping her alive was the food and water she had taken with her, and it was starting to run out. Night fell, and she slept on the path. That morning she was awoken by an odd figure. One she’d soon become far more familiar with than she would ever want. Chloe remembered as it introduced itself to her, so formal and cordial. That thing had no right to act like that, to be so misleading, it had no right to have a name when in truth it was just a monster. When she got out of here she’d make sure to tell everyone the truth.

Her face slamming full speed into a wall snapped her out of her thoughts. She hadn’t been paying attention to where she was going. After collecting herself, she looked around the for where to go next. There was a door to her left, and one to her right. The rules of this place were odd, but she was starting to figure them out. In a situation like this normally left turns take you deeper and rights lead to an exit. However these doors had the handles on the left side so that meant the order was reversed. It didn’t make sense but it was how the place worked. She burst through the right door and continued. There was nothing that would keep her from getting home.

Memories began to coalesce again, back where they had left off. The figure had offered Chloe a deal. Since her life was essentially worthless, she’d sign a contract to be used as a test subject for technological research. In exchange she would be given a place to sleep, food, water, and the guarantee that the experiments wouldn’t cause lasting consequences. She was desperate and agreed. She thought it would mean having an experimental medicine procedure every so often or something. Nothing like it actually turned out to be. In hindsight she should have realized the problem with the deal, but she was tired, and hungry, and cold, and she didn’t want to hurt anymore. If only she knew that would be the only thing she would be allowed to feel after she signed.

Once again, her thoughts were interrupted by something. Only this time it was something wonderful. She could see beams of light coming from between a door to her right and its frame. She pounced on the handle, pulling the door open and revealing the sun to her for the first time in months. That thing had taken her down there after she signed the contract. Kept her in a single room. Admittedly the accommodations weren’t bad, the food was well made, the water was clean, the bed was comfortable, but that was never the problem. Nearly every day, she would be take into some other room to be a lab rat. She would be put into rooms with horrible massive insects, poison gases, corrosive liquids. She would be torn to pieces, or beaten paste, or melted into goo, over and over and over. The figure kept its promise, there weren’t any lasting consequences, not physically at least. She would be rebuilt each day, exactly as she was at the start, to be reused. Her mental state on the other hand was deteriorating more with each day spent there. She knew each day she spent there would only hurt her more, so she started trying to escape. And after countless attempts, they all lead up to this one.

She returned to reality, and made her way through the facade of a city that hid her place of torment. She had gotten here twice before, though both times she was caught and returned to her cell. But two times was enough to understand that the city was all fake. Most buildings were made to take up space, hollow within. The first time she got out she had tried knocking on doors for help, all that led to was her getting caught. The second time was when she realized that if the buildings were fake, they were also the perfect cover. She began to move throughout the city, keeping her body flush against the buildings and hiding at every sound. She was not going to risk ruining this.

She wondered how her family was doing. She was furious when they cut her off, said she needed to be more independent. She didn’t care much anymore, she just wanted to see them again. She crept through the city, memorized paths and her own intuition leading her where she needed to be. As she moved throughout the city she noticed the buildings thinning out. She was reaching the end, freedom. The moment she saw the buildings give way to vast field of grass she broke into a sprint. She was finally going to be free. She was going to see her siblings again, she was going to apologize for how she had acted, she was going to get a second chance at life, and this time she wouldn’t waste it.

The sound of a gunshot and the feeling searing pain in her side wiped that little delusion from her mind. She fell to the ground as the grass beneath her was painted red. Still, she began to crawl, she was so close, she was out, she had to keep going, she couldn’t go back. A familiar voice called out from the border of the city. It was frustrated, but unnervingly calm.

“Damn fucking gun, if I had my usual one that would’ve hit your spine like it was meant to.”

Chloe’s panic increased as she heard the figure’s soft footsteps. Her hands clawed at the grass, pulling up clumps of dirt as she desperately tried to get away. Again the figure spoke, only now it didn’t need to project its voice, it was getting closer

“Oh don’t be like that sweetie. You agreed to this, and I’ve been holding up my end of the deal just fine.”

She froze as a foot pressed into her back, pinning her down. The voice was now directly being whispered into her ear.

“You’ve been so useful to me you know, I can’t let you leave now. I’m sure you really want to go home, but it’s just not happening sweetie.”

Chloe could feel the tears streaming down her face, tickling her nose. She couldn’t go back, not now, not when she had gotten out, she couldn’t, she couldn’t! Her voice shook with every word, gasping for air as her crying only worsened.

“Please. Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone I promise! I just wanna go home! Please!”

The figure lifted it’s foot and squatted down in front of her, its chitinous brown hand lifting her chin, forcing her to meet its gaze.

“Oh… I really can’t do that sweetie. You have to go back inside with me. You signed a contract after all, and getting someone to replace you would be such a hassle. I do think I’ll have to take some extra precautions, just to make sure you don’t get out like this again.”

Chloe’s eyes widened, her breathing quickened, each breath only half of what it should have been. She tried to push the figure from her, but its body didn’t budge. She began to scream, desperate.

“No! no! You can’t take me back there! Please! You can’t! You can’t! You can’t! Please! I won’t tell anyone! I won’t! I promise! Just let me go! Please let me go!”

The figure didn’t respond, instead it grabbed her arm and began dragging her back into the city. Her screaming only increased, tears flooded down her face as she offered whatever she could to avoid going back. The begging was in vain. She was taken back into the city, back underground, back to an operating room.

When the figure finally reached the room it picked Chloe up and strapped her down to a surgical bed. She had spent her voice begging, she could barely even whimper as the figure laid out its tools. Eventually it turned to her, holding a scalpel.

“So then, Sweetie. You’ve been screaming an awful lot, and it’s getting on my nerves. So are you going to stop screaming, or am I going to have to fix that?”

Chloe nodded her head weakly, horrified and lightheaded. She would still have been crying if she hadn’t ran out of tears halfway through being dragged back.

“Listen, I want to believe you, I do. But you’ve proven that I can’t trust you not to try and escape, so how am I meant to trust that you won’t scream either? Really you’ve forced my hand here. So just hold still.”

Chloe had no energy left with which to struggle. The figure’s hand pressed her head onto the table as it pulled out a scalpel. A quick incision later and the only sound left for her to make was weak shaking breaths.

“Now then, there’s still the problem of your repeated escape attempts. I’ve tried to increase security, add more surveillance, even tried to appease you with amenities. Yet you still managed to make it outside of the city. That was too close for comfort, and something has to change. So instead of changing the things around you, I’m just going to fix your unruly little mind. When you wake up you won’t ever think of escaping, in fact, I’m not sure you’ll be able to think at all.”

A hissing sound began to fill the room at the flick of a switch. Chloe couldn’t even process that it was the sound of rushing gas, it added to her exhaustion and she was out cold. The last conscious thought she would ever have was simply that of confused terror. Now she would be reduced to nothing but a body, a doll to be played with.

Arach wondered why she hadn’t thought of doing this earlier, as she removed another clump of grey matter. Things would be so much easier this way.

(Image Source: Jurassic Park)

The presence of mega-flora was a new experience for Kardonk, not to mention the existence of mega-fauna. He spend several days trying to decide if he should venture from the beach and risk it in the jungle’s muggy terrain. In the end, a need for fresh water drove him into the greenery.

The Paleomancer, it seems, had taken some ill-advised shining to Hazema. This Kardonk knew, but believed the amicability between the two of them, plus the promise to attempt to free the Paleomancer from Hellfire had been enough to smooth over that difference, at least until the day that Kardonk chose to again seek conflict with the Tyrant of Drakeem.

He had been mistaken. After an attempt to get Kardonk to foreswear any violence against Hazema, and Kardonk’s refusal to swear to such a thing provided she continued to terrorize the surrounding nations, The Paleomancer managed to trick him to and island 80 million years in the past under the guise of discussing his contract in a place where Hellfire could not possibly overhear.

Now, without a way home, Kardonk was forced to hunt for his survival. The first thing he learned was that it took a terrifying number of bullets to take down a Tyrannosaur. The second thing he learned was that he had no way to keep the meat, at least not as it stood. The vast majority of the carcass was devoured by carrion or spoiled within a manner of days.

He determined quickly that he needed a fire. This was not overly difficult between the collection of fallen limbs and the sacrifice of some of his now precious gunpowder. The difficult part was learning enough of the science of fire making to keep the flame burning perpetually, in rain or in heat.

Soon he had a large blaze going on the beach, shielded by a stone and wood structure from the wind and rain. Phase one of the plan was complete.

Now he just needed to wrangle a Deinonychus.

/uw Context

/rw

So, it actually happened.

Ulrick slumped down in his chair, sitting all alone in his office. He needed some space to digest the news.

He was the leader of R&A now.

Only a few weak rays of golden light shined into the room, heralding daybreak. Besides the distant, muffled noises of some Relief Force members probably working, the world was still half-asleep.

Ulrick did not care how early it was. He slammed a glass of fine dwarven brandy on his table, before pouring himself some. His sharp smell could already tell him the exceptional quality of the drink.

“Well, congrats Ulrick.”

He said to himself, words deadpan and dry. The fine brandy went down in a single gulp. He barely even felt it burning his throat.

This was not supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to win. How can he not mess up his new position on the Council? How can he lead the whole R&A organization?

His coworkers, his friends, probably expect some celebration from him, or at least a grand speech. But now those things were the least of his worries.

Their enemies must have already learned the news too. R&A has a new head, a much less experienced one at that. They must be already scheming something devious...

Dropping the glass, Ulrick sunk deeper in his chair, almost looking like melting.

If only Hirk was here to give some guidance on how to run things… But now, he was currently busy burning a realm to the ground at the behest of the dragon Mindcarver.

Ulrick got hit by an immense sense of shame. Their old, true, leader was risking his life again to save everyone, while he was moping in a dark room? Yeah, he felt even worse now. If only he could do the same…

Then again…

What would Hirk do? Certainly not just sitting around, feeling sorry for himself. He’d do what needs to be done for the good of people, even if it seems impossible.

R&A needed a leader that it could rely on. Someone to show guidance, even when the night is at the darkest. A solid foundation to rest on.

Ulrick jolted up from his chair, leaving his room in haste. He had so much to do, so little time to spare. The whole organization counted on him doing his best. And their enemies shouldn’t see any signs of weakness either.

Hirk will hopefully return soon, and they can sort out how things should go on. But until that…

Ulrick will be the rock that R&A needs.

Kalim huffed in pure annoyance. He needed to recharge the Rod of Resurrection he purchased from Vulkan. To do that he needed Titan’s blood. Ten Suns would trade his Titan’s blood for Leviathan tears. Unfortunately, Kalim didn’t have those but another person had them. Unfortunately that person wanted a bicorn horn. To get the bicorn horn though Kalim would need rainbow pearls. Unfortunately the person with the rainbow pearls wanted the power of Gaia…

Kalim was quite irritated by the busywork of a CHAINED FETCH QUEST. Seriously he was a fiend from the Nine Hells and not even he was that sadistic. He would track down whatever soul invented the idea of the chained fetch quest and make sure that soul ceased to exist. They were probably already in the Nine Hells for their sadism anyways.

Kalim stalked along and then paused. Wait a minute… KALIM KNEW A TITAN ALREADY! With tears of joy the Rakshasa flew off to find Atlas and asking for a drop of blood, leaving the Chained Fetch Quest from beyond Hell behind. An hour later he had the blood, which he traded for with Atlas the Titan in exchange for the last bottle of 774 Lemarcia red wine. Expensive? Yes, but so worth it to skip the stupid, stupid, stupid CHAINED FETCH QUEST. Now he just had to find the extixnct race of gem folk that was the target of his Rod of Resurrection.

Oh and find a specific soul to rend apart.

/uw This first part is non-interactable, but feel free to talk to Ith in his office afterward! /rw

...

"Hello... It's certainly been a while, hasn't it?" I asked the familiar figure standing in the lush garden meadow.

He gasped like he'd just seen a ghost, stumbling backward. "Ithael?! What—" He shouted, cutting himself off to glance around at the other angels before whispering, "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Not the response I expected. "W- Well, I suppose I wasn't happy with how we left off..."

"No fucking shit! You stabbed me, you dick!" He pulled the collar of his shirt down to reveal an ever-familiar scar on his neck. "And now what— you're here after god-knows-how-many years?! What have you been doing all this time?!"

This was... not going as smoothly as I had hoped. "Let's find a spot to sit down, yeah?" I gestured to a nearby tree. "Remember when we used to read under that oak tree near your house..? You'd always make fun of me for the books I brought. You could always predict the ending after reading the title..."

The expression on his face softened as he rubbed his forehead. He sighed, taking a few beats to respond. "...Fine. You've got an hour. What do you want?" He asked, stepping over to the tree to sit down.

"Well... I- I suppose I..." I held my hand up to my face. Was I crying? "I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry Eldred... Y- you were just trying to help me, a- and I pushed you away and I hurt you and—" I threw my arms around him in a hug. "Out of everything I've done... your death is by biggest regret..."

"Oh dear—" He sat there awkwardly for a few moments as I sobbed into his coat, before finally returning the hug.

"Do you forgive me..?" I asked.

"Let me answer that question with another question, Ithael... How many years has it been since I died..?"

"W- why..? Over a millennium, I think..?"

"Let's go with a millennium." He said. "So, I've been up here in heaven for a thousand years... How many of those years could I reasonably stay angry at you?"

"I don't know..." I whimpered.

He sighed again. "That was a rhetorical question, Ithael. What I mean to say is, I don't think there's a single person on the planet who has the energy to hold a grudge for a thousand years. Was I rightfully pissed at you for a couple decades? Abso-fucking-lutely. But... eventually, you realize holding onto anger like that will only hurt you in the end."

I pulled away to wipe tears from my eyes. "I- Thank you... You have no idea how much that means to me. That reminds me, I- I actually brought you something..." I said, grabbing a small box from my bag of holding before handing it over.

He opened the heart-shaped box of chocolates. "Well. You're very upfront about how you feel," he remarked sarcastically, reading the note inside. "I... I appreciate the gesture. I really do. But... you didn't let me finish. I forgive you... but I'm not the one you need to apologize to, Ithael. I can't absolve you. If we're gonna do this," he rattled the box of chocolates, "then you need to better yourself. You've hurt... so many people. It pains me to see you like this..."

Just when I thought everything was going to be alright... "Y- you don't understand!" I dropped my voice to a whisper. "I'm in charge of a circle of hell! I can't just give that up!"

He stood up and dusted himself off. "I understand that your mind's been broken, for a very, very long time. But... that's not an excuse. And until you can realize that... I think it's for the best if we keep our distance. I still care about you, Ithael... I really do. But this is goodbye..."

I sobbed as he hugged me one last time, a wave of conflicting emotions washing over me. Would I ever get better..? Would it be worth it..?

...

A few days later... Ith sits alone in his office as usual, unsure of what to make of the conversation. He absentmindedly fills out legal paperwork for his 'surprise visit' of heaven, which is now being classified as 'illegal entry,' 'trespassing,' and 'attempted espionage'. He probably should've gotten a visa.

Zeta languishes on the ground at the base of one of ithacars mountains. She was going to build a facility there where she could practice her abilities and not burden ithacar more than she already has but what was the point she was just going to mess that up too like she has with everything else she has tried to do since she has come to this city.

Four times four times as she violated the pretors order not to harm the citizens of the did not even know the first three the ones she killed with her Z-bits. She like the defective waste that she had put too much power into the elimination of practice targets. The second one she did know their name chalk they had followed her into the spatial rift she had created fought in the mission she had been assigned and died in it. She like the useless thing that she was let it happen.

Then there was the diplomatic incident she was unsure how she messed that one up but considering the pretor sent a dragon against her it was safe to assume that she did so greatly. Even the reason she was out here in the mountains was part of another failure of hers a failure to control her powers. The pretor had recommended that course of action he had said it wasn't an order and that she had a choice but she read his mind she knew he wanted her out of the city before she could cause any more problems. So she took the recommendation.

“Worthless” she repeated mentally.

“Defective” she repeated out loud

“Burdensome piece of garbage!” each word was punctuated by a telekinetic slash to her own face.

Then there was the matter of kardonk. The one person who she was soft for. The one person she cared for. The one person she felt safe around The one person she could trust. He had been sent to the Cretaceous and she could do nothing to rescue him nothing to eliminate his kidnapper. No that one wouldn't stand, she would not tolerate that failure. She will eliminate the perpetrator. Zeta calls upon her vast reserves of psychic power and reaches out locating the mind of a gene forged and seizing it forcing them to their knees.

[This unit requires tactical augmentation]

[Subject Zeta] The gene forged replied

[Interrogative: Can unit 2027 provide]

[I shall see what I can do] they answered

It was not long before the request was relayed to Nozoth. Upon receiving it a fit of spurious laughter filled the entirety of district 2.

“And so the Lost weapon comes crawling back. Very well you are permitted to create this tactical augmentation”

Ro-2027 set to work immediately the fluctuating time state of district 2 allowing them to create something that requires a week of Labor for hours of time in the outside world. After a few hours a white mask appears near Zeta pushed through a spatial distortion. With the augmentation received Lianna begins to hover in the air before carving a series of pictograms into a rock slab and psychically messaging Coco requesting that they deliver it to the city.

🦖🧙‍♂️🗡️☠️

❌➡️(🦖🧙‍♂️🗡️☠️)

Zeta telekinetically tries to don the mask but is too powerful in the retrieval, shattering her jaw in the process the nanotech band wrapping around her face before her jaw regenerates again and the combat drugs begin to enter her lungs. Finding this paleomancer was proving surprisingly easy. Just searched for the minds but referenced him till they found one that saw them visually then follow that mind to the source of the problem she wished to solve. When located Zeta flies into the sky before summoning a spatial distortion towards paleo's rough location flying through it and closing it behind her.

[“YOU TOOK HIM”]

The message is both psychic and audible Zeta descends from the sky manifesting an arm length black Spike.

[“You took the one I was open. to you took the one I trusted”]

Two more black spikes manifest as she continues her descent.

[“You took the only person I have ever felt safe around and banished them to the Cretaceous”]

One more black Spike manifest joining in orbit around her with the others

[“AND FOR THAT THIS UNIT SHALL BE YOUR EXECUTIONER”]

Zeta punctuates these words with an explosion of telekinetic Force.

She was still terrified, yet somehow she kept it together. The princess didn't know she was this strong until everything crumbled around her.

After her father had given up in the face of certain destruction he sent her away with the invaders while holding back tears, showing weakness now would be disastrous. The masked men didn't even look worn down from the constant fighting, their armor was kept eerily clean, as if it was factory new. She hoped they were simply new arrivals and not actually unfazed by war itself, so much so that they'd have time to keep their garments in perfect condition.

They took her to some kind of metal aircraft, they kept landing new 'guards' with these ever since the peace deal to patrol all the major cities and even some mines.

It was only a short flight, while high up in the air they docked with some kind of mothership. Three more metal aircraft were also attached to it, some other nobles were in the same position as herself she supposed when looking at a small group of people clearly not part of the masked men.

The Mothership, some kind of zeppelin but not one she had ever seen, took off to Drakeem. The flight was long and quiet, under constant watch there was no opportunity to talk to the other non-Drakeem passengers.

She didn't know it they were close to the city as it was not even visible from the airship. It could only be assumed they were close because the guards started moving people again. She was loaded onto the metal aircraft once more, but this time by unusual looking guards. They didn't wear the usual guard mouthpiece, additionally they had what appeared to be wings and paler skin. Four of them stood around her as the doors closed and the aircraft began to rapidly make its way to the capital of her enemy.

She had to admit that the weird zeppelin was more to her tastes, the metal aircraft was just too fast and you could feel the speed a lot more. But she also supposed voicing her opinion wasn't really an option seeing as she is a captive.

The aircraft landed on a designated spot, at least that's what the princess supposed the markings indicated. She was now in the middle of the enemy capital, right next to the 'castle'. It looked more like a fortress then a royal castle. Right in the middle of the city was a giant stone building with who knows how many defenders guarding it. They even had stone walls and towers with magical engravings surrounding it. The building in the middle of these fortifications looked more like a prison then even a fortress, now that she looked closer at it. It didn't appear to have any windows or balconies, whatever was inside is entirely separated from the outside world. She didn't loose the will to flee, but definetly postponed that plan.

As the weird winged guards brought her inside the princess noted that there was so many more guards then she was expecting. Every time it seemed she understood how ridiculously protected this so called castle is a new surprise showed up. There is no way all these soldiers were delegated to this place just to protect their Queen, or was it empress now? She supposed it didn't matter what title she gave to the leader of her enemies as long as she didn't say it out loud. From personal experience she knew that there was no need for these guards, the Hazema she saw the day of their defeat would have been able to single-handedly claw through every guard present. So why were they here? What are they trying to keep in? Was this place also their treasury?

Rhythmic knocks snapped her out of this train of thought. She would have to investigate this if she got the chance.

A moment of silence till a scarily familiar voice rang out

"Come in!"

Two huge doors open to a throne room that seemed atrociously extravagant. In this room one wouldn't even think about the reality of the gray blob they were actually in, it even had colorful windows, which you obviously couldn't see anything through, because the entire complex was windowless. They must be clever fakes using lights for appearance sakes.

Hazema sat upon a gaudy golden throne, though this isn't the Hazema she was used to. Gone were the patchwork parts, she was confused. What had happened? Was that beast she saw that day not the same person sitting in front of her?

Hazema smiled in an unnaturally kind way, the way she was sitting was also unusually regal. Something was up, she just had to ask.

"Are you- real?"

The scarily human Hazema tilted her head in suprise and answered

"No actually! I suppose you had an advantage over the others since you've seen me fight firsthand with that orb of yours!"

The illusion disappeared leaving the throne empty, a door behind the throne opened but none of the guards even reacted to anything happening. With metallic clacking the real Hazema, the patchwork Hazema, sat upon the throne with her iron legs. She crossed her legs and rested her stone arm on one side of the gaudy piece of furniture. Assuming a slouch of villainy she looks down at the princess, who has a single drop of sweat slowly making its way down her face.

After Hazema tens of other women, all of whom seemingly once nobles of the empire assemble around her on cushy looking pillows. The princess could swear there weren't any pillows on the floor before, but maybe they were just hidden with illusion magic. This very much looked like a harem, did the evil empress swing that way? How did no one know of this until know? Though she supposed the answer was the enormous stone walls surrounding this prison-palace. She could decipher some amusement from Hazema's gaze. Now was maybe her only chance so she had to pick her words carefully, but it could also be best to be as straightforward as possible.

"What are you trying to keep in here?"

Hazema's eyes lit up in excitement, before quickly catching herself and responding almost calmly

"Oh you know how it is, I'm just trying to keep a failed copy down in the basement! Any day know it'll be able to speak I think, not entirely sure. Maybe it can't copy vocal cords correctly or something who knows! What a surprising question, all these other idiots probably thought the guards were here to keep them in as if I actually needed them for something!"

The evil empress breaks into a manic fit of laughter

"Anyways you should go with my cute winged children and get situated, they'll show you your room or whatever. I like you so your job will be sitting next to me from now on!"

The princess didn't know what she just started but it was to late anyways. Now was the time to appear loyal, her new empress was clearly mad anyways. She would surely get a chance at revenge.

"I will do so right away your highness."

This particular day had gone like any other in Mary's life; the barracuda would land at the Azelelion to pick her up and deliver her to Ithacar for her schooling. She would give her father a tender hug on his massive mechanical Pinky and bid him farewell.

Marys time in the Scola magica had gone about as well as it could go. She was still afraid of magic, especially the more flashy displays a it but understanding lessons fear and as she learned the basics she found herself becoming less and less afraid. She was however nervous about going there without her friend Analina to be there for her she found her companyreassuring and was reluctant to face her fears without it. Mary but of course still do it she could not let her fear govern her forever.

There was also reasons to be excited First had a promised Mary to take her swimming on the beach Wednesday. Mary was greated by the infernal woman. Her gently wagging tail betraying her emotion.

“So kiddo ready to go to the beach” she said with a smile.

The flight to Ithacar was going on like all the others squad D and Mary would fill the barracudas internals with their idle chatter and llight shittalking. While Jez would fly the craft to it's destination while giving pointers on flight to straightman. That was until it wasn't.

“Picking up some strange radar noise probably just birds or something I'll check the magic detectors just in-”

The first particle Cannon shot cut the the barracuda pilot's sentence short as it sheared off the right grav fin and melted a groove into the barracudas hull.

“Evasive maneuvers!” First barked. The bird dragon it already doing so dropping as much altitude as he dared to try and use terrain to his advantage. Mary was already panicking when the first shot hit the dive that caused her to float up did her little favors. Luckily the brick secured her in his arms before the barracuda leveled out.

“contacts all around a dozen lady first!” Jez called out before another AMCG Cobra dives in from above one of the Mech hand grabs the barracuda whild another rips a gash and it's roof and attempts to widen it. Brick his first on the draw as the brown painted Cobra Mech tears the barracuda's roof off, opening fire one handed with his 40 mm autocannon. The first volley of the shots bounce off the heavy armor but the second volley does manage to get one hit in it's monoeye forcing retreat due to the damaged sensors.

Zeta immediately raises a telekinetic barrier as the rest of the contacts cyborg super soldiers fly into engage one of them tries to flank by cutting through the side door with its inbuilt laser weaponry only to catch a four bore shotgun slug to the dome via Fist shotgun. Zeta immediately goes on the offensive summoning a series of six knitting needle sized black spikes and telekinetically directing them through the heads of six separate cyborgs before the barracuda is rammed by a cobra causing her to lose her grip on her hand hold just in time for another Cobra to ram the barracuda from below pitching it upward ds and tossing her outside. Right into the gravity magic assisted swing of the gigamace wielding Mech that had done to the first ramming. Zetas telekinetic barrier shatters as she has launched at supersonic speeds into the distance.

“ZETAAAA!” First yells out in grief and a rage. Sensing First fear of losing yet another squad member Commander Sharp decides to give the order.

“Send in the jailer”

The 6 m long amalgam of flesh and cybernetics finds it's Target in the midst of their engagement with the second wave of cyborgs bricks Auto Cannon turning two of them into ground beef. The jailer approaches from a side angle peaking it's cryokinetic canon arm into the entrance and freezing bricks Auto Cannon the primary threat. With it neutralized the thing crawls to the hole made by the Cobra and uses its bony air arm to snatch Mary. The jailer's rib cage opens in a disturbing display as Mary is tossed inside.

The jailer goes to fly away only to have its cryo Canon arm Frozen to the barracuda by milk frustrated at the thing levels its bony arm and fires it's wrist mounted pulse Cannon repeatedly Chain stunning first and ensuring that she is out cold. Brick uses their free hand to summon a pool of molten metal and ability gained by their bismuthification. Using it to form a cane knife they break themselves free of the ice dropping their autocannon and grab the creatures bone talon arm and severs one of its claw tipped limbs before slashing across its chest in an attempt to free Mary. Straight man lended support by firing a particle rifle right into the things right hand aiming carefully as to not accidentally burn a hole through Brick.

Calculating a need for end of this fight quickly the jailer responds by firing both shoulder mounted EMP rocket launchers point blank into squad D temporarily disabling the barracuda for 2 seconds but incapacitating the remaining members of the squad with the electrical discharge sans Jez the pilot.

With the jailer successful in its hunt it wretches it's cryo Canon arm free and flies away on its jet assisted wings. The remaining combat cyborgs however give a parting gift opening fire with they're inbuilt laser weaponry pocking the side of the barracuda with holes and destroying two of its thrusters as well as it's landing gear before leaving and joining the jailer and the retreating AMCG cobras

The indicator that something had gone wrong for the ithacarian authorities was Zeta carving a rut through the roof of the palace with her impact and skipping off the roofs of two more buildings before crashing through another. The second indicator was an emergency orb transmission from Jez.

“This is Jezper Maik Mary has been kidnapped, the rest of my squad is incapacitated and the barracudas has been severely damaged. I humbly request emergency landing clearances and your fastest flyer to give Chase. I would attempt to tail then myself but the barracuda seems insistent on spearing into the ground and I must deny it for as long as possible”

Follow-up to this

CW: drug use, inhumane prison conditions, blood, pregnancy fears, racism, infidelity

Anger was easier than misery, as it turned out. And both were easier than stewing in the humiliation of losing his wife to... him.

Damnit. Why him?

The king found himself in a explosive rage, storming about and taking his frustrations out on the servants.

He'd known Scaria wasn't thrilled to be in the palace with him. But he'd tried. He'd done all he could think of to please her. He'd allowed her the freedom to make changes in the royal garden. He'd given her a ring. He'd sabotaged vaccines meant for her enemies at her request, purely to make her happy.

Of course, he'd been having dalliances with courtiers. But surely she didn't expect any different from a king? No, it was almost certainly not about that.

Carmine couldn't shake the feeling that it was pure spite. And that notion broke his heart a bit. How could she do this to him? He'd loved her. Just as he'd loved every consort before her. Damnit.

He hurled a glass decanter of blood across his chambers. It shattered painting the wall with glistening red.

All this anger was likely bad for his unborn child. The king tried to calm himself just a bit, lest he become too heated.

He scowled. Speaking of things that were probably bad for the little heir, it seemed lovely Scaria had caused more damage than Carmine had initially realized.

While they were together, he'd found his consort's blood to be particularly delectable. So much so, that he began to require it even to think clearly. In short, he'd become addicted. He did some scrying after the fact, and found that she had been ingesting a strange plant from her home land. A peculiar shrub she'd planted in the garden that imparted euphoric feelings. And it had passed through her blood to him.

The king's hand rested on his belly protectively. As if it was not enough that she'd left him for that old bastard. She had been inadvertently poisoning him all this time, potentially risking the well being of his child. As sad as he was to see her go, this stirred new feelings in him. Righteous fury. She'd pay for this. This reckless endangerment of the unborn heir was inexcusable.

It also presented a problem. For the time being he couldn't go without. Not if he meant to keep his kingdom intact. He would have to find a way to keep receiving the effects of the plant, while he tried to wean himself off of it. Blast that woman!

The solution he arrived at was to propagate the strange plant and grow it at massive scale. He'd then have large amounts of it fed to prisoners so he might drink their blood after. He couldn't digest the stuff himself, after all.

Unfortunately, the prison of Emran had been taken by one of the usurpers. But he always had the Hall of Correction. So the prisoners therein were given a steady supply. He also instructed his guards and courtiers to take the substance any time they could bear it so they'd always be ready to provide him with extra.

This would have to tide him over as he dealt with... everything that was going on. Lord, he was tired.

He tried to focus on what needed to be done, but he was highly emotional. His vitriol was turning to something else now. Hate. Hate of a particular kind.

That damned elven trollop. How dare she?! He was glad her people lost their stupid war.

He was beginning to think perhaps elves were generally horrid, nasty folk. Fitting, he supposed, that his father choose such a detestable form.

Mary had languished in her cell for…she did not know how long. It could have been days or a weeks she could not tell. There was no sun to study to watch rise and Fall only the dim and ancient ceiling light that barely let the room. She tried listening to the footsteps of the person responsible for feeding her to find any regularity in her arrivals to hopefully keep track of time that way but the schedule seemed to change randomly in a seemingly deliberate attempt to mess with their sense of time. Even her multi-tools clock was useless, its hands rapidly spinning both clockwise and counterclockwise at seemingly random intervals.

The boredom was the second worst part of it. She only had her school supplies to keep her entertained and they had taken the spiral notebook labeled spellbook despite it only having light and dancing lights, Tarukarja and Rakunda and having already confiscated her casting unit. So now she was just left with pencils and a spare notebook to entertain herself with. But that could only do so much. So she used her notebooks for something else, an escape plan.

The vent that supplied air to her cell was large enough for her to fit in but was put tantalizingly out of reach and her captors made sure that there wasn't anything she could use to boost herself up so she would have to make one. Mary soaked her blanket in the large sink before rolling it and splaying out the base. Positioning it next to the jailer's cryo Cannon using the radiating cold off of it to hopefully freeze the soaked blanket into a solid stool like shape. To deceive her jailer she cut her school cloak into a blanket like shape and the lied on top of it when they were looking. When success was initially confirmed hope returned to Mary. She soaked her pillow and froze it onto the blanket to form a crude stool. After a couple of hours and a few refreezings it was time.

Mary boosted herself up to the vent and retrieved…a nutcracker no that wasn't the right tool. She tries again and gets an allen wrench. One more time.

“What what even was this for?”Mary thanks to herself. The jailer would be getting suspicious by now she needs to move quickly she tries one more time and retrieves a bottle opener. Mary holds Sigurds gift in her left hand and flips it off with her right. Before finally retrieving the screwdriver. Mary works with a previously unfound mixture of speed and efficiency quickly undoing the vent carefully, setting it down, crawling inside and lifting the vent back into place.

Mary's heart threatened to leap out of her chest as she carefully crawled through the sister of Erebus's vents. She had no real idea where she was going but hoped to find out from the rooms she passed by. She passed by a barracks, a guard post and armory and a radio room all of which were occupied. Mary listened to the radio operator speak hoping to find out how to escape from where she was held.

“What do you mean she escaped”

“The jailers on it and the assassin”

The assassin? That was significantly less important than the fact that her escape attempt had been discovered. Mary speed crawled hoping to get as much distanceshe could farther and farther and farther she went into the maze vents she crawled on her hands and knees for what seemed like kilometers, rubbing her knees raw before she came upon something unexpected. The sounds of children playing. Mary crouched towards the source and peaked. She heard the sounds of a busy market. Of people going about their day buying food and trinkets engaging in gossip and talking about events. There were families here Mary tries to get closer only to end up falling through the unscrewed vent into an alleyway. Mary looks around listening in to the busy market before she sees a ball roll towards her.

“Hey you vent girl the one with the blindfold toss it here!” A voice a child's voice calls out to her she picks up the ball and tosses it towards the source of the voices.

“Man that was way off but thanks” it was by now the boy noticed Mary's state

“You look rough here come with me I'll get you some bandages” should she trust them probably not but she's already been discovered so maybe it's best to try and blend in. Mary goes with the boy walking through the busy streets of the indoor market before a voice sounds on the ships intercom Commander Sharp's voice.

“Attention combat personnel it appears a prisoner of ours as escaped a young girl with a blindfold and brown hair instant promotion to anyone who finds her and brings her in alive”

The boy gave Mary a betrayed look before she heard the voices and Boot steps of AMCG militants. There's nothing left to do now but run. So that's what she did she ran through a confused crowd into a hallways turning and sprinting at random direction in a mad dash to get away to buy her some extra time to maybe just- mismatched eyes a cloak and a curved blade she sees Ibn El Baol for only the briefest of second but she remembers the things visage all too well. Mary freezes and begins to hyperventilate for only the briefest of seconds before the pommel of his sword strikes her in the side of the head and her world goes silent and black.

“Ibn what part of alive do you not understand” Commander Sharp says angrily as the sister of Erebus drops out of fear and he appears over Mary's unconscious body. Mary lies still with a bleeding head wound. Commander sharp quickly checks to see if she is still breathing and upon receiving confirmation that she is.

“Take her to the doc” get that head wound patched up and we'll go from there. Commander Sharpe moves the sister of Erebus into fear again.

Commander Sharp was practically beaming to himself as he supervised the grafting of the factory strider onto the sister of Erebus. It took a lot of work weeks worth in fact. It's took so much work that Ibn El Baol had to learn the necromancy in order to provide the labor they needed. Simple skeletons raised from the corpses of long-ended space battles labored intensely grafting a new metallic tumor to the lumpy form of the Sister of Erebus.

But when it was done and the first weapons and synthetic combat drugs started rolling off of its restored assembly lines Commander sharp could hardly contain his incitement. All warfare is based on logistics and he had just secured his and minorly disrupted his enemies at the same time. It was time to move on to phase 2.

Wizards create a lot of fear and anxiety with their presence you accidentally bump into a man with a pointed hat and he obliterates your entire city. Someone is having dinner with her family and some biomancer will come to town and stitch you and them together in a horrific flesh amalgation. Some predatory spirit could burn your City to Ash and the council would not even stop them but defend the spirit instead. All of this generates fear exploitable fear and fear is the clay of the radical from which he molds his militants.

Commander sharp starts with the invisibles first. The abandoned wizard war veterans. The grown orphans of destroyed cities. The beggars and citizens of the lesser countries. Those invisible see the logo in graffiti and alleyway propaganda posters in the hushed whisperer's and rumors deliberately started by Commander Sharp's men.

“Come to us, join with us, let's us destroy this awful system together” it's a simple message but quite effective. Not all were fit to join some we're sick somewhere infirm too old or two pacifistic but they could serve in another way. His new associate needed its experimental subjects after all.

Arming recruits wasn't just all he was doing with the factory striders products. There are always pirates and criminal enterprises who need weapons, rifles, machine guns, rifle grenades etc. The spice Kings for example we're willing to pay a hefty premium for giga guppy rocket pods. Combat drugs that inverted your pain and pleasure sensors and removed risk aversion and self-preservation instincts sold remarkably well on the underground drug markets almost as much as the synthetic opiates all of the worked to provide a healthy basis of funding for the AMCG.

– Within Artemis’ Lair –

Preparations had been made, sure, but the act itself was a situation all its own. Both of her purchased Ith'Raals that were whole were busier than perhaps even the real one had ever been. And so were the living Ith hand, Artemis herself, and even the secret mental clone of Ith'Raal within her mind. There was a *lot of planning, many graphs, and somehow even more paperwork. So much so, that were the door to this secret planning room be somehow opened, the intruder would be greeted by the cartoonish sight of a wave of papers flowing out the door, everyone inside drowning in them before their swift death.*

Artemis, as it turns out, has been planning an Empire. A taste of territory lead to a desire for more, and that eventually lead to… well, this. That and being able to properly interfere in EON without having to use Riva’s vote and voice. Not enough politics will do that to a silver dragon. Nevertheless, she’d acquired quite the taste for territory, and the thirst for Empire innate to the early dragons of Krynn never truly goes away. And so, when Riva claimed Solentium in the name of Ithacar in order to better fight the black dragon, Artemis had been granted it, providing the final piece to her puzzle and firmly planting the idea in her head. Tak’ath would be born.

There were many flaws with this plan, of course, but dragons are stubborn and she had the full support of Riva in this, in addition to several fairly purchased Ith’Raal clones to assist her. Plus, with the passing of time came new allies and new opportunities. She’d recently placed an order for 200000 sets of pristine Githyanki equipment, with a particular focus on their standard silver-and-ruby half-plate, from the Astral Union. She knew well enough the means by which weapons might be crafted best, the supplies to forge a few million of them, and the ability to quickly teach people in a way that allowed them to teach others. She also had several textbooks on psychology and philosophy that most humans agreed were relatively sound.

With these three things, she would forge these peoples into both farmers and warriors; their culture would include a hefty set of training in warfare, a direct practice of taking exceptional equipment and discovering how one might make it themselves, and a coming of age ritual involving them crafting their first weapon themselves, in addition to a care for the land and a sense of responsibility to farm it. Beyond that, they would be of course shaped to revere her, be loyal allies to Ithacar, and to worship the Platinum Dragon, Paladine, above all, as well as valuing both magecraft and martial skill in addition to high capability in any other particular skills one might seek to dedicate oneself towards. Plus a few extra surprises, of course. The end result would hopefully produce an extremely competent, respectful society that rewards skill and dedication, without great judgement of those who differ, nor scorn for those who fail.

Still, there’s… a lot to manage. For example, given the size of current farmland, arable land, at its maximum, being roughly equal to 272.3 km2, and at current is at 44.3 km2, and the crops of the region, without any magic or aid they could sustain only roughly 670 people. Yet, with the aid of biomancy, Ithacarian technology, Astral Sea gigantism, R&A food production techniques, and more besides, food production was up so high that even should they devote part of their crops to the unworthy and unsustaining lemons, still would they produce enough food to support over 1400 people, with an additional 600 persons’ worth being stockpiled each year. (Yes, I did the math on crop density, kg of food produced, how much food the average hardworking adult eats in a day, what foods were produced in Athens in 2023, and more. It was painful.)

With a total land area of roughly 580.8 km2 spread across several islands and landmasses, Tak’ath is not perhaps the biggest empire, but will certainly be large enough. As far as satisfying the military requirements, however… Artemis had contacted the Mercenary Guild, and had made a rare agreement with them – one that the Guild, as a rule, typically refuses to ever make. They would be assisting in the training of her citizens, bringing them up to full military capacity in as short a time as possible, with hired drill instructors and military advisors both, in addition to whatever and whoever else might be needed.

Within the span of a few years, these civilian soldiers would be capable of not only making their own gear from scratch, but when fully equipped with their standard kit, able to take on standard armies over five times their size, regardless of whether that means 1000 to 5000 or 10 to 50. After the total time of the training and guidance, however, these would not only be some of the best warriors in the world, second only perhaps to the Guild themselves, but also will ensure that such remains the case throughout the generations to come. Now that, in addition to her own raw might, should more than meet any remaining requirements to join. Plus, Riva was vouching for her, and is one of the founding members. It’s not exactly like many of the people there would be particularly opposed to her presence among them to begin with. Even Vulcan would be unopposed, most likely... though she may need to check her optimisim on that one.

...Nothing left to do now but apply, I suppose. Surely nothing can go wrong.

*Author's Note: Maps will hopefully be coming soon? I can't make good ones.

/uw Image used is Yawgmoth's Edict, by Donato Giancola. Gotta make Jeorb proud!

/rew

Hastur stole through the aisles of books in the library. This late at night, the Academy grounds were usually empty and dark, save for a few students in the dormitory towers up late. He had left the lanterns unlit, carrying only a candlestick in its holder.

He realized how ridiculous he must look- the head librarian, hood up and creeping like a thief through the dark. But what he was here for felt like it should be kept in the dark...

His fingers brushed the spines of the books as he passed, and he let himself enjoy the feel of their bindings, the soft hiss of his hand across the cloth and leather.

He stopped at last, pulling a volume silently from its resting place. With a gesture his candle held its place in the air, hovering next to him as he took the book in his hands.

After several minutes of furtive turning of pages, Hastur sighed and placed it back onto the shelf. The candle followed behind him as he shuffled down the row and selected another title. Another fruitless search, a scowl. He moved to the next.

And the next.

And the next.

He began to neglect to place them reverently back in place, a trail of discarded tomes marking his path through the shelves. His searching became progressively more frantic with each disappointment. Soon he was tearing pages from the bindings in frustration, a cold sweat beading at his brow.

Nothing but vague references, theories... it seemed every scholar in creation had heard the tale of the King... but no one knew it. Like a universal memory, covered in an impenetrable fog...

It was... maddening.

Half-remembered things... a glimpse at what once was and has always been...

The voice from inside him finally spoke. It had been quiet this whole time. But now in the lengthening shadows he saw it again, standing just out of view. Was it... taller than before?

How many times have we done this dance? No one has the knowledge you seek conveniently written out in plain ink...

It shifted in the dark and seemed to slither across the floor, now whispering from between the pages lying scattered at Hastur's feet.

No one else can find what we've lost. We tried to with that devil once before, and what did we gain? More vague nonsense. Riddles from our own fractious subconscious... and a debt we've yet to pay.

"What else is there to try!? It's not like I have a manuscript for this..."

Except that you do.

A shiver went down Hastur's spine. He suddenly felt the weight of the book in his satchel, its cover of living yellow writing in the dark.

"Ive read it. Theres nothing there but the worst parts of myself to remember. Things I wish I had never seen... it almost consumed me. It gave me you." He said bitterly.

"A stupid voice in my stupid head."

But you overcame it. And please... let's not pretend you haven't always heard things. The book just let you understand what they were trying to say.

Let them speak to you again.

He hesitated before answering.

"...what if I lose more of myself?"

Would it be worse than what we have already lost?

Hastur stood silent in the dark for what felt like ages, only then flickering candlelight making the shadows dance behind him. Slowly, purposefully, he reached into his pack and withdrew the gruesome tome. He loathed it. He needed it. It was a part of him. One that he wished he could excise and burn... but a part of him all the same.

What was he? A madman and a fool to be sure. But what else? A king? A monster? A god? He recoiled in disgust at these titles, and yet...

He remembered what it felt like to carve a mind like a sculptor, how others knelt at the scalloped tatters of his robes. A form so different than the meek flesh he wore now...

The more he opened himself to the memory the easier it became to feel. To become.

It felt as easy slipping off a mask he didn't realize he'd been wearing...

He heard his name whispered in the dark.

Hastur.

Hastur.

"HASTUR!"

In an instant his attention came reeling back to the present. The darkness of the library was gone, replaced with the soft glow of dawn. "Mr. Hastur what in the nine hells happened!?"

A woman with deep red hair and ice blue eyes stared at him in a mixture of disapproval and alarm. A stranger. No, wait...He knew her... where was he...?

Hastur looked up, picking himself up off the floor where he had apparently been lying. Shredded, blackened pages of books were scattered across the floor around him.

"I... what... Cassilda...?"

That's right, he remembered her now. One of the library assistants here at the Academy. They'd spoken a few times, but she largely worked when he had to be elsewhere...

"Ah... apologies Miss Castain. Seems like I had a bit of a late night and lost my head..."

He reached up to touch his face, curious how ill-fitting it felt all of a sudden...

"An understatement by the look of things. These poor books..."

She bent and picked at the pieces of parchment. Not burnt, just... stained black.

"Are you alright?"

Hastur dropped his hand, and forced a disarming smile.

"Of course! I can have these restored in no time. They did warn you that I'm a bit of an eccentric, yes?"

"I believe the description Dean Catherine used was 'nuts'... but yes." She sighed and brushed off the front of her trousers as she stood.

"The library doors were unlocked this morning, I came in to make sure no students had tried to enter the restricted archives."

"You're a credit to the creed of the librarian then! Sharp, on the ball, always watching!" He said with a flourish, flashing a grin.

"In penance for my little... episode... allow me to cover your next shift. I insist."

She seemed to consider him for a minute with skepticism. Had he laid it on too thick? But soon she cleared her throat, and nodded. "That would give me some extra time to devote to my research... very well... I accept."

"Wonderful! More time in the library for me, and more attention from you for your work! A win for everyone."

She gave a small smile, and with a final nod left him to tend to the mess.

Once she was out of sight, he looked down at his hands. They felt so small all of a sudden, so limited. How easy would it be to slip out of them once more?

To take off the mask...

The fall of Geas had not gone the way he had expected Commander Sharp could admit that there were unexpected challenges especially in the form of the umbra operatives and bismuth intervention that was a problem he could solve. The potential of his escapades not being a large enough bait however that was a problem something he needed to address for his plans to work.

Luckily the timeless state of the sister of Erebus gave him all the time in the world to scheme first preparing the Sister of Erebus for the next phase it's external defenses were sufficient the hulking 60 km long Leviathan was a hedgehog of nearly every type of space weaponry The wizarding world has ever produced. And with multiple shield systems Daisy chained together and if the external defenses weren't sufficient someone like the celestial Union accidentally murdering Mary with their liberal use of orbital bombardment would likely be more than enough to fulfill his plans anyway.

It was the internal defense that Commander Sharp found lacking. So he fixed them the internal video transformed the sole purpose of making up boarding and taking it as painful as possible a mass of machine gun nests. Each one equipped with a machine gun and each Force Manning them equipped with rifle grenades and homemade rocket launchers. Using giga guppy rockets. Everyone who is capable of holding a gun was ordered to do so no matter what age. Magic detecting IEDs were placed throughout the ship. Even the vents were not ignored as Ibn El Baol setting up a series of slime mold barricades holding his specially crafted omnipoison within oxygen harmlessly passed through. But anything else suffered the consequences.

Next came contingencies blood sigil had to be drawn to contain the spell that would contain a commander Sharp's last spiteful act to ensure that even in failure. He could still make Sparrow suffer. Luckily the curses Target could also provide the blood he needed. Mary was brought out of her cell and dragged by Ibn El Baol to the ritual chamber. They recognized the sigil anywhere sand fae in nature.

“Ah good you brought the blood Bank” Commander sharp said.

Ibn El Baol surprisingly hesitated bringing Mary forward as she struggled against her binds

“Hello Miss I'm command sharp” he had never actually met Mary in person before. Mary with her hands bound did not respond, simply increasing her struggle against her binds.

“So how's our special little hostage today?" he said the question was entirely rhetorical.

“Suppose it doesn't matter, you don't really have much of a choice about what's going to happen next” he said, gripping her chin with his sharpened hands. He needed two things form her blood for the sigil and extra motivation for her potential rescuers

“Bet you wondering why I held you here and what the hell you know did to end up in this mess. Ah don't look at me I ain't going to tell you I think it's better that way” the monster smiled as the chamber doors snapped shut with.

“Let's get started shall we* her said before after 15 minutes Mary it was returned to her cell the ritual complete.

The first motivational present was delivered to the Agent it sat neatly on his kitchen table: a smashed black Iron communicator, a bunny keychain and a severed ring finger.

“You did good work preventing geas from contaminating a large portion of a globe, heroism like that deserves a reward. I hope you enjoy the gift.”

-Yours Truly Commander Sharp

The second motivational gift was delivered straight to Kardonks workshop: a casting unit spiral notebook with a cartoon rabbit drawn on its cover and a severed Pinky.

“Tell Sparrow Sparrow his old Commander says Hi and that you are running out of time to save her”

C.S

(Image Source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/295900638015423786/)

Six mechanical spiders, each equipped with a suit of stealth capabilities, invisibility and runic dissipators (Dissipates thermal, acoustic energy, etc to difficult to detect threshholda) have been dispatched into Guild territory. Their purpose, to figure out why and how the Guild stole the information to create the Lightless Flame detectors they have evidently managed to duplicate. The Spiders operate under the orders of Ithacar’s chief artificer, Kardonk Carvisky. These are the results of their initial campaign.

. *Frigid Hollow:** It was obvious why it had been given that name. The frigid air whipped through the mountains and down into the sheltered valley that had once been a small mining town. That town had grown over the centuries to become a major processing and transportation hub for all mining operations in the northern mountains. The minor city has centered around nearly a dozen railroad lines that snaked their way out in all directions, followed by a ring of processing plants. Then after that it was rings of neatly ordered but packed apartment complexes*

The poor spider that had been set this way trudged on grumpily. The cold contracted it metal bearing, causing it to creak inaudibly as it moved about. Invisible to the surrounding world.

It takes careful note of the transportation of both people and minerals. Starting locations and end destinations. Logistical knowledge, boring, but important

Luckily, the howling wind combined with the constant noise from the trains and factories meant that despite it creaking, no one discovered the spider. The spider also found lots of gossip and rumors. Unfortunately, none of it seemed to be related to anything important outside of local politics.

The spider curses its ill fortune and continues to plod on

.Kabaheim: The Capitol of The Mercenary Guild. It was once a small isolated fishing hamlet, but their isolation proved to be their salvation from Mennifax's curse. Because they were spared from The Five's bloody campaign to purify the tundra, their stable population made it the ideal choice for The Five to take up residence after the Unification war was over. Now, centuries later, it was a bustling hub of activities. The harbor was always packed with ships, streets full of vendors, and narrow alleyways held a melting pot of cultures from all over the world. And this ordered chaos meant the spiders could hide with absolutely no issue. The capitol building was a different story however. Situated on an island in the middle of the river, security was tight and strict, with anti-portal/teleportation wards covering the entire island. Not to mention there was an entire battalion stationed there*

After a weeks worth of nothing, the two spiders decide to attempt the bold strategy of infiltrating the capitol building itself. With both invisibility and runic safeguards activated, they carefully stow away in a visitors briefcase

They manage to make it through security undetected. Whether it was pure luck or complacency by the guards is uncertain.

When the briefcase is opened, they find themselves in a conference room. A meeting about logistical concerns from the Guild's long range patrols in the southern scablands. They were started to help defend against Buggo, but with such a long stalemate in the fighting, questions are beginning to be raised whether the guild should continue to spend recourses with these patrols

The spiders listen until the meeting seems to be wrapping up, then attempt to quietly leave the meeting room and explore the rest of the compound

If the spiders can feel anxiety, it's probably increased tenfold when Counselor Five herself enters and sits down at the meeting.

the meeting seems to end in a compromise. While The Guild will still send patrols into the southern badlands, they will cut back on the amount they will send. When it's finally over, everyone files out. While most of the participants head towards the exit of the building, Counselor Five instead heads the opposite way, towards her office

As Five leaves, the spiders relax slightly, and then move to the alert

Slowly, carefully, cautiously, they attempt to follow Five

they follow her down hallways towards her office, and everything seems to be going fine. Until they hit the final hallways, with the imposing set of double doors at the end. Five continues walking as if nothing is wrong, but something just feels... *off about the corridor*

They pause for a moment, then as no data presents itself, they move foward

They get about halfway down the hallway before Five abruptly stops. Did that shadow just... ripple?

Five slowly turns around, her gaze searching for something. Maybe the spiders?

The spiders freeze. Shadows. They knew that Umbra Operatives came from shadows. The mechanics of this ability were not well understood, perhaps it enabled a form of detection they were unaware of

Deciding that in this instance, secrecy is the better part of valor, the spiders retreat

Five searches the hallway for a few moments more. Then she turns back around and strides into her office, the massive doors slamming behind her

.Tempest Mountain:* A strategically important mountain, for the sole reason that it gave a commanding view of the entire local region. For this reason a small fortress had been built on the summit that predated even Mennifax's rule. Overtime it had been discovered that it was also a nexus for celestial power, and so a sect of celestial ice mages had wrested control of it in the chaos of The Unification War.*

That mage sect became known as the Tempest Mountain Enclave, and had been on friendly terms with The Guild since its inception. As long as they kept watch over the eastern marshes and warned the guild of marauding demon hordes, they would be left to their own devices

But then the enclave accidentally wiped themselves out, and Counselor Three had moved in

As the lone spider finally makes it to the mountain, they can see the keep come into view through the howling snow. They can't see anyone moving about, but lights can be seen brightening many windows. A dormant Guild gunship is parked on a single large landing pad extruding from the fortress

This spider knows nothing about Councilor Three’s operations as it approaches silently. Looking for a heating vent or crevice to sneak through

The Spider can see nothing like that when it arrives at the outer wall. It’ll have to scale it

As it crests the wall, it sees its target. There’s a air vent protruding from a building on the other side of a courtyard

The spider slowly approaches the airvent, probing it with ultrasonic sensors before scuttling towards the hole

As it crosses the empty courtyard, it is suddenly halted by an unseen force. Servos whine as it struggles to move, but to no avail. A robed figure steps out of a nearby doorway.

“Well well well. What do we have here? A clever little one you are. Made it through the outer wards undetected. Unfortunately, nothing crosses the outer wall without the Twilight Crone’s permission”

He advances, raising his staff. The bottom of it is sharpened, like a spear, ready to impale the immobilized spider

The spider is not made for feats of strength, struggles fruitlessly for a moment before chittering out something that could be considered rude if one could translate

One last transmission back to Ithacar. Final scan results. Before the self destruct protocol is activated

.Dellforge:* One of the oldest cities in the Guild. It has been settled by a group of dwarven refugees that the guild took in early in its life. A small network of dormant volcanoes, coupled with the abundant raw minerals, made it the perfect place to set up the industrial heart of the Guild’s war machine.*

That had been over 2 centuries ago though. Now there were large trenches full of factories crisscrossing the southeastern tundra, all powered by thermal energy from the roiling magma.

The spiders sent by Kardonk find themselves in what counts as ‘Dellforge proper’. A true hive city, with factories and apartments built practically on top of each other. Dwarves, automatons, and Mole Kin are everywhere, making sure the production lines never falter and the logistic trains run on time

A reputable banquet of information, if they are clever enough to obtain it. Like before, the spiders proceed with a slow carful caution

From signs and eavesdropping, it becomes obvious that if they want information, they’ll have to go deeper. Down, down, down. Level by level, they make their way towards more restricted levels. Eventually, they reach a level with a bridge leading to an isolated factory. Security is everywhere, from patrols to cameras to even doors locked with runes

The spiders attempt to enter one of the locked rooms by scratching out one of the runic junictions

It’s a fire escape door, and the spiders are successful in scratching out a rune. Unbeknownst to them however, as soon as the rune dissipates, a fault light begins blinking in the security office.

Entering through the door, the spiders find themselves in a long hallway leading to what looks like a large room with an assembly line

*They scuttle closer, keeping an ‘eye’ out for any guards or workers while attempting to determine what exactly is being produced here

As they reach the doorway leading to the assembly room, it becomes obvious what is being made here.

Its artillery shells. Massive artillery shells that are too big to fit any known cannons the guild has. Not even Luana’s Wrath has a caliber of this size. There’s 3 shells being constructed, each in a different level of completion. Each one is the size of a train car.

The spiders can’t study them for too long though, as the door they came in suddenly opens, and a black, sphere shaped, featureless automaton floats inside.

The spiders freeze, and shrink against the back wall

This was a problem

The sphere slowly floats down the hallway. eventually it freezes for a moment, before shimmering. Then it begins to float directly at the spiders

Sensing detection, one of them leaps at the sphere to try and disable it

It catches the sphere by surprise, and it floats motionless. But it's perfectly smooth, with no clear weak spots for the spider to attack.

But soon it recovers from its surprise, and begins to shimmer extremely fast

Both spiders scurry away, attempting to find a better place to hide

The sphere follows the spider that attacked it. It seems to have picked up it's scent...

The spiders split up, there is only one sphere, hopefully they can lose it

Sure enough, the sphere follows the spider that attacked it, leaving the other one behind. It chases down hallways deeper into the factory. Every now and again they pass a worker, who upon seeing the sphere, quickly gets out of the way

The spider tries jumping into a vent it hopes is to small for the sphere to follow

As it jumps for the vent, a hissing noise is heard and the sphere cracks open a few inches. An electrified net is fired at the spider

Its in the air, it cant dodge. The spider falls with a sputtering crackle

An arm emerges from the sphere and scoops up the net with the spider inside. The electricity coursing through it should make sure it remains incapacitated as it is moved to a "proper" facility

Deep below the earth's surface, in Dellforge's core, the sphere's victory is observed. The Automaton watching the feed laughs in triumph

"Now, let's see what secrets you can tell me..."

Four would note several things:

Firstly, if he didnt know Kardonk was snooping around, he does now. The spider is unquestionably his design

Secondly, the stealth tech is a mix of mechanical and magical means. Difficult to detect for even high end sensors

Thirdly, everything leading up to its final demise in the net was transmitted in a final pulse, back to Ithacar. Kardonk also knows that he knows

“It seems like the artificer has decided to take an ‘active’ approach”

“2 can play that game…”

Of course, they would have to be careful. Kardonk wasn’t what they were most worried about. It was Five

Cobbleswille, February 17

Incident: Esteemed wizards Gromimus the Great, and Halgaeron Flamefist started dueling in public when the former insulted the latter’s new robe. The ensuing battle escalated into an all-out catastrophe.

Casualties: 446

Ulrick just shook his head at this point. He crouched above the table in his office, deep within the building of the R&A HQ. The only company he had at this late hour was a bottle of whiskey. He really needed that one.

Reading reports after reports of similar incidents put him in a bad mood during paperwork. Being the new head of R&A was even more exhausting than he thought. How could Hirk handle all of this?

Heliostadt, February 21

Incident: Archwizard Gramicidin summoned a fiery rain above the city after he was scammed by a local shop owner with 6 gold coins. When questioned he answered he needed all the money for his research that could ‘revolutionize spellcasting and save countless lives’.

Casualties: 273

The only thing Ulrick did was just shake his head. Razing a city for meager pennies that were needed for his ‘brilliant’ project was worth the lives of a few 'unimportant’ people, right?

After taking a large gulp from a nearby bottle of whiskey, Ulrick reached for the next report. It didn’t improve his mood to say at least.

Cavalone Island, February 22

Incident: A legion of armed demonic invaders appeared in the middle of the island from a big portal. Grandmaster Riboflavin, esteemed wizard, decided to engage with the army after a brief posturing and exchange of banter. The grandmaster’s black hole attacks destroyed the demons but also devastated the island. The wizard said he did “what was necessary for the greater good”.

Casualties: 2309

Oh come on! What was wrong with this many mages? As a kid, Ulrick always envisioned wizards as wise, sage people who acted very carefully and prudent from all the knowledge they learned over the years.

Now older and more worldly, he realized many of them were basically old, bearded children. Just as petty and vindictive.

As much as R&A worked hard to keep everyone safe, it became clear to him few of the powerful actually cared about the regular people. Just tiny playthings, just to be discarded without any second thought to further their own agendas.

[Power corrupts]

The mental voice of Nightbite made him snap back a little. Even if his patron was a bit more talkative as of late, Ulrick still hasn’t quite gotten used to it yet.

“Uhhh… yeah. Been noticing that. Quite sad.”

He wasn’t sure what to say. Nightbite mostly communicated via telepathic broadcasts of impressions and emotions. When it talked it meant it was about to tell something important.

[Too big burden to bear]

Ancient words echoed within his mind. Most people would be probably terrified. Good thing Ulrick got used to Nightbite’s presence in his spirit over the years.

But something changed in the last few months. It got stronger and felt more closely. Ever since he repaired it, seemingly more and more memories kept returning of what it was.

He owed the weapon his life big time. Nightbite saved him from certain end on… countless occasions. Despite it being their patron, he always viewed themselves as equal partners.

But with its memories of being Volnur returning, it might not be the case anymore…

“So… is there a reason you’re more… chatty as of late?… Or just the side effects of your… uh, evolution?”

He picked his words nervously. Could he still trust his closest ally?

[Yes. It is returning. Strength, memories]

[Something else too. Purpose.]

Before Ulrick could ask further, visions flooded his mind. A galactic-sized soul, shrouded in dead gray mists and spirit-flames, and a colossus made out of pure blood.

Eldritch entities at the dawn of existence, primordial brothers of soul and blood.

Their kinship came to an end when the blood giant had to mutilate the cosmic soul, reforging it into an axe. Even at the cost of his own powers and divinity.

It barely resisted, as even Ulrick could feel its regret through their bond.

[To experience mortal life.]

[So many wielders. So many partners.]

Quick flashes about the previous wielders of the axe flood Ulrick’s mind again. Volnur’s so-called “partners”. The memories show how they all perished. Gruesomely. Seeing them for the second time wasn’t any less uncomfortable for him.

[Only need to find one.]

His grip on his chair’s arms tightened. Looks like Nightb- Volnur really had something in its mind… Well, better strike while the iron is still hot. So, Ulrick asked the most obvious question.

“Who?”

Before returning to silence once again, Volnur spoke of a last few, unsettling words.

[Power. Reborn.]

[Judgement.]

[Successor.]