The Mook Maker

I stood on the rickety wharf of a fishing village, gazing into the distance. 

 

It was an almost idyllic, picturesque scenery to admire, with the wide, clear expanse of the clear blue sky, and the calm sea washing the shore. 

 

There was nothing the eyes could see that would betray any sign of danger - if one ignored the risk of the dubious wooden construction collapsing on itself and falling into the waters below - the weather was exceptionally nice, sunny, without a single cloud in sight, and only a soft breeze unlikely to bring sudden storms or torrential rain to sweep the coast. It was perfect. At least, I should be. 

 

Yet, I couldn’t shake down the strange, indescribably alien, foreboding presence that lurked somewhere beneath the waves, imprisoned, hidden away from the world, but aching to be used, to be released upon the unsuspecting world. 

 

It must be one of those ‘Scrolls’.

 

There wasn’t any other explanation. 

 

Aside from the strange woman, one I had encountered early on upon my awakening in this accursed world, there wasn’t anything as mesmerising as this. I hadn’t known that back then, but now I assumed she was one of the priestesses, explaining the strange, appalling aura that turned me away the moment I saw her. 

 

The strange sensation, confusion from my awakening, and other factors had lead to my injury back then, negated by luck, and through the healing power of my ‘Defilers’.

 

This was something different. 

 

Something was calling to me, from under the sea, and it was not quite a person. 

 

Artefact then. The ‘Scroll’. One of many. 

 

The ‘Lady’ suggested it was in this area before she went mysteriously silent, prompting further investigation. 

 

Or, maybe, it wasn’t quite speaking. Whatever lay down there wasn’t quite sapient, merely trying to establish a connection with my power, one that brought us there, one which I knew was intimately related to the Scroll itself.

 

The certainty of connection, and conviction of importance, did not imply comprehension in any way.

 

Perhaps it was like some cursed grimoire trying to reassemble itself after its pages were scattered to the wind, yet without a true mind of its own. 

 

It wasn’t quite intelligent. It wasn’t like my girls. It wasn’t like Lady, or like the silent Serpent. Not sapient. 

 

A signal, a beacon? 

 

Automated instructions? 

 

I never thought of it this way. Technological concepts may not apply to something supernatural in nature. However, I couldn’t deny the similarities. 

 

There were so many questions to ask, and so few answers. 

 

Normally, I didn’t think of them, in our desperate bid of survival, but now, sensing the strange energy I couldn’t even begin to define, it all came back 

 

“Master?” Miwah asked, worried, but I didn’t reply.  I kept gazing on the horizon, fighting the alien sensation caused by some mystical energy imbued within the artefact buried beneath the waves.

 

It was a strange source of the inner turmoil to which the host reacted, their whispers checking on me, again and again, as I tried to focus on the strange, indescribable feeling, seeking answers which it wouldn't provide. 

 

The ‘Lady’ was silent too, in deep slumber. The nightmare of the sleeping dragoness echoed through the link, only to be dismissed by the perpetual choir of voices to stop pestering me.

 

I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to the advice regarding the very objects I was contracted to collect now that one piece of the extensive collection was within my reach.

 

“For Master!” someone protested behind me. My girls cared a very little how our invisible, and intangible, dragon ally was faring. If anything, they were annoyed that ‘Lady’ wasn’t answering our call. 

 

Only the Serpent, a second passenger, free lodging on the telepathic network, was content being brought here‌, demanding nothing more of us. Maybe I was fascinated with the artefact as much as I was .  

 

“Lady?” I asked, the thin air growing impatient. 

 

No answer, except the exhausted, sleepy whine carried by the wind, murmuring to itself: “Root…” 

 

Did the ‘Lady’ exhausted herself in the process of showing off to the villagers, or was she waning away as she was sustained by the ever thinning ring of worshippers, or maybe it was a distortion caused by the location? 

 

I would assume that the dragoness wouldn’t pick the location where her signal… 

 

…spiritual presence, arcane power, whatever it was called, was somehow distorted by the other, even more powerful phenomena she couldn’t influence. It would inconvenience her.

I didn’t know, and couldn’t know, if it was the case, but the timing and location were quite suspicious. 

 

Something was, however, quite off - something down there - and it was making me uncomfortable just standing there. 

 

“Do you feel it, too?” I asked.

 

“Yes, Master.” Miwah answered, standing closely next to me, sniffed the air like the canine she was, and added: “It is somewhere down there.”  

 

It was strange to ask the anthropomorphic wolf about the sea, but there wasn’t anyone better to ask. 

 

“Deep?” 

 

“I don’t know, Master.” She said, “It is about a kilometre away.” 

 

“Can you tell?” 

 

They didn’t just throw it out of this pier - even natives didn’t use it, their small boats were tucked on the beach instead - whoever hid it must have sailed a short trek away and then tossed it overboard. It certainly wasn’t damaged by the water and age, but was there a single, indestructible scroll lost under the tons of silt, or maybe a chained chest, or even an entire submerged structure? 

 

“Not sure.” Miwah said, sensing my thoughts: “Sora can feel the edge, and won’t go near it.” 

 

The kitty was afraid of water, one would think, but the distressing aura it gave meant it was something considerably more dangerous than a mere whim of my perpetually distracted feline.

 

But was it really a scroll? 

 

As much as I wanted to have answers regarding our presence here, or even our very nature, there were more questions to be asked about the countermeasures to deter the daring treasure hunters. We ran into magical wards already, and I knew for the fact they were a thing in this world. 

 

Were there any magical jammers that target the remote viewing the ‘Lady’ used, or the ability of ‘Displacers’ to the point even their ‘evolved’ variant couldn’t power through? 

 

I couldn’t assume the ‘Warpstalkers’ could power through the magical barriers. 

 

We, in fact, had never tried to. 

 

“Does it have a barrier?” I asked, “Underwater? What is powering those things?” 

 

While my people could reform after being struck by the barrier, or ward, there was an ability that hurt as worse than death. The ‘sealing’ came to mind, making me shudder. If I had aquatic followers, they could have been running - or swimming rather - into a trap!

 

The wood creaked underneath me as I shifted by weight from one foot to another, while thinking. 

 

“Don’t know, Master.” Sora answered from behind, not daring to test the pier construction. Only Miwah risked it, staying always close to me. I was not sure if she could swim with her armour. 

 

Better to not risk it here. Neither the wooden construction I stood on, and certainly not the wards which could be down there, protecting the sunk treasure. 

 

If there was another of those magical shields, somehow kept up even without the native magician-priestesses maintaining the spell, I couldn’t use Sora’s power to teleport the thing out. 

 

I could test if she could open the portal to catch fish, teleporting them to the dry land, but it wouldn’t help us getting to the Scroll safely. I still recalled the painful sting I received through the mind-link for sending one of my wolf-girls too close to it, not to mention the pain it gave her. 

 

Experimentation with that, especially if there was no ‘caster’ to kill to stop the effects, was out of the question. 

 

“Lady!” 

 

I could sense the ‘Lady’ stir, mentally, not physically, as she was still intangible as she always was, yet she couldn’t respond. Only the faint whine “Root…” reached my ear, even though it wouldn’t technically be sound. . 

 

The energy of the scroll pulsated beneath the water.

 

I was losing my patience. 

 

“We need to wake the damn dragon.” I decided, “She must tell them how they secured those things before we do anything else.” 

 

They went through considerable effort to scatter the scrolls in the most unpredictable way imaginable, and it was hard to believe it was the only precaution they made against anyone else gathering the Scrolls.

 

Should I expect another lightning bolt from the clear sky? 

 

The ‘Lady’ would have to tell me what to expect, or to stop the negative effects from happening in the first place. 

 

If the so-called ‘goddess’ needed prayer, we would have to press the issue with the natives, who had worshipped her even before we arrived. 

 

Forced conversion wasn’t anything that the theocratic empires didn’t try before back on Earth, after all. Personally, I hated the idea, but there wasn’t any other alternative I could think of right now since there was more at stake than simply fooling the populus or maintaining control. 

 

The metaphysics of this were beyond me. 

 

I took a step back towards the village, where the nervous, terrified villagers on their knees kept their heads down, reminding me of the very reason we came here. It was quite an eerie experience, considering our interaction with natives has been almost universally one of combat and hostility. 

 

Kuma and Ekaterina, now in their full metal armour, combined with their sheer bulk, were certainly menacing, but so far, some natives shown nearly suicidal level of belligerency, or spitefulness. 

 

This village did not. They had to be quite confused. 

 

“Hurry Ari here and bring in some of Lady’s former priests, too. It’s time to introduce the people to a new religion.” I turned towards Tama. Unlike me, who found the idea of worshippers appalling, the vixen seemed to enjoy seeing humans on their knees so much it distracted her from flirting. 

 

She took a domineering posture, her fluffy tails fanned out. 

 

“Yes, Master.” She answered with a sly smirk, and her fox ears perked up: “We will make them bow before the new gods.” 

 

“We are not gods, Tama.” I said, less than excited by the entire issue. 

 

“True, Master. You created us. We are your angels, perhaps?” The vixen smiled, speaking with a rather teasing tone. “Helmy even has a flaming sword.” 

 

I had no desire to start a religion, and wanted to approach the issue from an entirely practical perspective, fulfilling the poorly defined condition that the dragons mentioned before. 

 

“I am not a god either.” I said

 

“Yes-yes. You are the Master!. That's all that matters..” Narita added, somewhat unexpectedly, as she didn’t tend to engage in such banter. It was more vixen’s thing. 

 

 “Just let the priests convince them of what the Lady wanted, with the whole triumvirate thing.” I spoke quickly, unwilling to be drawn into any argument, then added: “Or bring that priest who was supposed to be a guide!”  

 

Or both. 

 

“Yes-yes, Master.” 

 

I even considered migrating the whole population the ‘Lady’ dumped on us here, considering they were her original worshippers, who would be more aware of the metaphysics of ‘powered by prayer’ than we could ever be. 

 

Or at the very least, schooled to perform the rituals without being consciously aware of what they did. Either way, it worked for us, as long as it woke up the ‘Lady’.

 

I looked around. 

 

The ‘Fleshspeaker’ - or rather ‘Overseer’ judging from darker colour palette, larger size, and the considerably more foxy features  - loomed over the crowd, sat upon her personal thrall of flesh and bone assembled from several body parts without any concern than supporting the bat-girl’s weight. She was reshaping it right now, likely out of boredom, considering the bubbling flesh. 

 

She inspired more respect, or sheer terror, than me, I suppose, with her wide wings, not to mention the iconic outfit crafted of some living organism. 

 

I walked closer to her. 

 

Not sure what to say, without sounding arrogant, insane, or at least very cheesy, I wanted to stay silent, and leave this to professionals, or at least motivated amateurs like Ari. Though I would have to say at least something. 

 

A child cried somewhere, and the mother struggled to silence it. 

 

“Tell them they will not be harmed.” I said to the ‘Overseer’. It might not be perfect, my cute fox-bats were likely intended to suppress, not to persuade - nevertheless, they were irreplaceable. 

 

She answered with her typical “For Master!” while her thrall spat out the words in the native tongue I didn’t understand. I continued:

 

“We blessed the fields, as you requested. We could offer much more… But …the Viridian High Lady demands compensation since her priest has been incapacitated.” 

 

The ‘Overseer’ translated it through her hulking thrall, mechanically spitting the words. The thrall - or drone, as the system referred to it - wasn’t the best spokesperson, since it was a human body grafted into something else on the whim. 

 

“For … Master!” The bat-girl announced proudly. Her mind touched mine, warm and proud. Unnamed one wanted to prove herself. She delivered the message, although I didn’t quite understand what she meant by the few words added for effect. The indirect translation gift didn’t work despite how intrusive our shared link was.

 

More sobbing, this time, from adults. 

 

It wasn’t translated well. 

 

“At least we proved to them that we are real.” I sighed, scanning the crowd of natives around me, expecting the sign of suicidal hostility the other villages had exhibited. There had been some murmuring among the crowd, a tension in the air, but none of them dared to raise their heads.

 

One shouted something, once again, in their language. He was silenced by others, since more muttering followed, slowly rising in pitch, almost as they tried to chant. 

 

I had a bad feeling about it. 

 

Should I ask the ‘Overseer' to translate? 

 

There was a risk it would alert the other dragons, especially if their magic followed the same logic as ‘Lady’, but it also raised the question how well informed, if not straight away omniscient, they were. 

 

Although, if the villagers prayed to the ‘Lady’ for mercy, I would get what I needed. At least, I assumed how that worked, as she had implied that her abilities were either directly related to, or at least somehow fuelled, by the worship she received as the self-professed goddess. 

 

I didn’t know. 

 

Our priority right now was waking the ‘Lady’ up, followed by an attempt to finally recover the artefact so we could retread back to the valley. We had to risk it here. 

 

The chaos that probably still reigned back in that city would occupy us for weeks to come, I thought, but my follow up with the ‘Overseer’ was soon interrupted by another incoming traffic. 

 

“For Master!” The ‘Displacer’ meowed in the announcement. The little one seemed to still stalk me, even though she didn’t hang on me in front of humans. 

 

Another portal opening triggered a series of moans and wailing cries when some villagers dared to look up at the swirling mass of the distorted space, defying the concepts of time and space in the most spectacular fashion possible. It certainly caused quite a few headaches. The travel itself was quite disorienting after all, even after I became used to it. 

 

First person to come through it was the priest that the ‘Lady’ herself assigned to us. 

 

My first thought, and first concern, was the risk that the ‘Displacer’ rift may kill the man as it did with the few other humans, as he wasn’t proven to be immune, unlike his comrades the ‘Lady’ forced us to ‘rescue’ later. It wasn’t tested out before 

 

He landed face down in the dirt. However, instead of being simply mauled by the ever-shifting void beyond the portal, he merely missed a step after the head-spinning ride, and now was writhing on the ground, almost like a massive headache had stricken him. 

 

The priest, however, overcame his sickness, and managed to stand up, proving he had at least some measure of resistance to the side effect. He might not be quite useful, I thought, but we wouldn’t kill him by dragging him through the tears in the space the ‘Displacer’ so casually created. 

 

I didn’t say anything. Sora - or one of the ‘Warpstalkers’ - kept the hole in the reality open, to much dismay of humans that dared to look at the ever moving collection of impossible angles. It blurred even in my sight for the second. 

 

Ari, our friendly human, arrived second. Unlike the man, she landed quite gracefully, clearly undisturbed by the experience, accompanied by a couple of the ‘Eviscerators’ and ‘Purifiers’ along with a ‘Defiler’. 

 

My girls did guard her, it seemed. 

 

She bowed with respect. 

 

“For Master!” 

 

I blinked. 

 

It was still quite strange for the locals to utter the phrase with such eagerness, but I already learned that Ari was quite unlike her countrymen, not only immune to the side effects of our abilities but also completely unbothered by our presence.

 

Her further words were, however, still in her native tongue, which I didn’t understand. 

 

“I trust you understand us?” 

 

“For Master!” She repeated mechanically. 

 

“For Master! For Master!” With the echo from the furry menagerie around, several minds tried to reach me at the same time, making it difficult to distinguish one from another. 

 

Thankfully, I was somehow adept in comprehending the telepathic communication between even the common minor members of our host as long as they stayed in sight. 

 

If they didn’t, it was a hum of whispers, hard to pick up the individual voice among the thousands of networked individuals. 

 

At least we breached some communication barrier between us and one human, Ari, specifically. 

 

It was quite clear she was briefed on the entire situation, a small mercy of the changes that the ‘Fleshspeakers’ did to her, or the ‘blessing’ as she put it, and was ready to address the still bowing crowd. Perhaps the system knew better than me appointing her as a ‘herald’. 

 

I wouldn’t know what to say.

 

“Please proceed.” I told her in the end, “Spread the word, the Lady…” 

 

I paused, recalling the cumbersome, full title the dragoness used, “...Viridian High Lady is the part of the team.” 

 

“For Master!” 

 

I wouldn’t say the ‘Lady’ was my servant, but as long as she received some of that mystical energy, there wouldn’t be a reason to complain. 

 

We needed answers. 

 

Ari bowed once more and raised her voice to get the attention of the crowd. It worked quite well. I would say it was an unrealized talent of her, even if I knew she was a disowned daughter of a tailor, not some skilled orator. 

 

As uncomfortable as I was, I would have to trust my ‘Herald’ to be on the same page due to her being slowly integrated into the host. She was listed in the ‘Overview’ after all.

 

I suppressed the curiosity to check the stat window once more. For all the levels and statistics it used, I was quite certain none of this was a game, not to mention that it has a tendency to be quite unreliable. 

 

Ari continued to speak. I didn’t understand what she was saying, but it captivated the crowd. 

 

It even directed attention away from someone as tall and menacing as Ekaterina and Kuma were, towering far over everyone else. 

 

I was, however, feeling increasingly more uncomfortable, realising I was probably referred to in what sounded like a sermon from Ari, while the strange energy of the artefact was still calling out to me, demanding the attention as well. 

 

The Serpent, on the other hand, decided to stick with Ari.

 

Just like the ‘Lady’, I would have to query him as well. 

 

Was ‘Serpent’ even ‘he’? 

 

It was an entity, a sapient, yet satisfied with lurking in the corners of someone’s mind, now riding the much larger vessel as Ari was connected to the greater host.

 

Does ‘he’ or ‘it’ devour memories? I wasn’t quite certain. 

 

He seemed content he was brought here. I guessed it was the artefact that interested him as well, it was a heavily contested object, it would seem. 

 

But how do I get to it without putting my girls in danger? 

 

It was getting difficult to focus

 

Extending my hand to the little ‘Displacer’ standing just next to me, I wished to be teleported away so I could think, ponder my next move. She understood me without a word, and soon, I was once again falling through the void. 

 

An eye blink later, I was on the same dirt road, with only the little, unnamed ‘Displacer’ to keep me company. She immediately hugged me closer. Now there was no human in sight. Rest of my retinue had not arrived yet, my abrupt departure didn’t allow them to bring more of their sisters to secure the settlement, but I should be reasonably safe with the teleporting kitten. 

 

Her rifts were not as disorienting anymore. 

 

Perhaps I should give her a name, I thought, caressing her soft fur. 

 

She seemed to like that. 

 

The village was, once again, out there, in the distance, drowning among the colliding waves of blue and green. 

 

“For … Master!” 

 

Said the girlish voice, and soon I realised that I wasn’t alone with the ‘Displacer’, but one of the ‘Mutators’ was there as well, still toying with the local flora through her magic. Our horde seems to be spreading through the area already, there was a good chance that even ‘Corruptors’ had been carried here. 

 

It made me think. 

 

Perhaps I could use it to reach the bottom of the sea. A living scuba tank, made of enchanted wood. 

 

It would, however, not account for the protective magic that might be down there I was worried about before. A smarter solution was required, one that wouldn’t require me, or my girls, to be trapped in the wooden coffin under the waves. 

 

The thought made me shudder. 

 

Somewhat rudely ignoring the moth, I looked at the waves, splashing the distant beach, and then, a muse struck me.

 

I had a better idea. 

 

“Bring me the Overseer. I want to try to make a fish-drone.”