NOVEL SIMPLE Checking in with the Masterminds
6/3 Various
Grand Apothecary Putress was somewhat miffed. His transition into a member of the retinue had gone reasonably well, but the new leadership meant that many of the Royal Apothecary Society’s goals had shifted. The new plague of undeath they were working on was likely unnecessary, with the introduction of a Val’Kyr capable of replenishing their ranks in the dozens per day. More Val’kyr would be needed, but the method has been found. The cover goal of attempting to replicate the female form of undeath in males was now mandated to actually receive the funding allotted to it in formal budgets. Most damningly, sentient testing with a measurable mortality rate had been forbidden! How could he possibly work in such circumstances?
Recruitment was, of course, a newly important area for research. Hummel was finally getting his funding; a psychoactive inhaled love potion that can cause brain damage with prolonged exposure seemed like a perfectly reasonable resource. After all, even the living members of the retinue were essentially immune to the deleterious effects, and upon capture the drawbacks would be retroactively removed. Hummel wasn’t quite ready yet, but he believed the cologne at least would be ready by the end of the week. The early experimental version was far less reliable, and could generate almost any strong emotion, though not strongly enough to be particularly easy to weaponize.
There were also new lines of research into the nature of the Company’s magic, and he was expected to cooperate with gnomes. Gnomes! He had immediately taken up research on the Fading Dream Mushrooms, though that was actually a front. It was the only way he was allowed to study creatures that were within the retinue. Near total immunity to all forms of toxin while allowing for more positive interactions? How had nobody thought of the implications yet?
He accidentally killed a horse that had been intended to be sent to the rancher after its conversion to the retinue, but where some saw tragedy, he saw possibilities. He had run a battery of tests using the hybridization runes on the undead creature. He had given it a perfectly logical worldview, a highly developed intellect, a total lack of self preservation, and an all consuming thirst for knowledge to allow for interviews.
It would become an undead variant of whatever it happened to be turned into; simple enough in concept. That meant that the undead body was inherently infused with death magic. There were a few interesting interactions, for example the elven male capacity to retain near-living aesthetics even as an undead, but the breakthrough was when the tests moved into demonic transformations. The results were disastrous; beings made primarily of fel energy made manifest were not compatible with the energy of death, but since test subject 37b was likely to die at that point anyway, it consented to an experimental treatment.
“In conclusion,” he presented his findings to the Dark Lady, “I have successfully created a method by which masculine undead might gain full capacity for living activities, as well as a solution to the Nathrezim question.” 37b strode into the throne room on cue, his wings outstretched and his hooves clicking on the floor, to punctuate the proposal. It would require additional testing, but Putress was very excited about the possibilities.
••••••••••
“Of course, Illucia, I have no talent in shadow magic and am at best passable as a necromancer. So there’s no way I could ever influence your mind. You’re too clever.”
The ghostly woman nodded absently, her gaze fixed on the glowing rune at the core of the glass orb on her desk. When presented with the active necklace, infused with the power of Discord, Illucia had placed it around her neck without a second thought. She had then been forbidden from noticing the changes being made to her own mind.
Malicia stepped out into the hallway, and found mistress Lillibeth waiting. They scurried into the office together, and Illucia barely noted Lillibeth’s presence. “Don’t mind her, Illucia. I just need to speak with this student. You don’t mind if we have our chat in the corner, do you?” That got a frown, but no more.
Once they were behind her, the mistress summoned her companions. A woman in white with flowing chestnut hair and large breasts, a blonde undead with black lips, a dark skinned woman with very curly hair. The latter two focused upon Illucia intently, reshaping her mind with shadow and necromantic magic. When the woman in white walked forward to speak to her, Illucia looked at her with awe and reverence.
“Are you ready to embrace love, sister Illucia?” She nodded.
“Yes. Yes, I love you priestess Talaada. I am ready.”
Talaada leaned down and kissed her on her semisolid forehead. “Good. Do you understand your purpose?”
“I am to secretly teach the rest of the school the true path to immortality and power is through love.” Surely the mind bending ghost already had ideas tumbling about in her head.
“Very good. You will be richly rewarded for this service, my new sister. I’m sure of it.” Talaada meant it of course. The highest reward one could hope for was further opportunities to serve.
••••••••••
Caledra landed, looking through her enhanced senses, and finally found her prey. That light damned monkey had been hard to find, but finally she had managed it. She got into the right position, took aim, and fired. Then for good measure she quickly fired off an arcane shot and serpent sting. Thankfully it didn’t try to flee; instead it charged what it thought was an elf, but was in truth a draconid. She was able to overpower the injured gorilla fairly easily after spitting acid in its face. Not very cleanly. She’d need to practice with that, later. The breath weapon was too useful to ignore. Right now, however, the stupid monkey was dead and she could finally leave this humid nightmare jungle.
••••••••••
The attack was sudden, and Leh’Prah had been unprepared. They had been outnumbered nearly five to one, and many of the new members of clan Leh’Prah were not warriors. The women who were stolen away to learn strange magic were indispensable, but still nearly half of his warriors were killed before the attackers were driven off with hardly a bloody nose.
Leh’Prah nearly despaired. He didn’t have the strength to hold off assaults from the clans if they saw him as a threat. The strange magic was powerful, but numbers mattered and his herd was only flesh and blood. He gathered the bodies and stood vigil over them. They would be burnt in the morning.
“Hey man. Don’t worry. We can fix this.” He turned to see a tall, muscular stallion with a short beard and hair shaved on the sides. He wore concealing clothing, the kind favored by the elves and tauren. At his side was a smaller mare, presumably his mate, with flowing white hair and red eyes, looking exhausted. She was wearing a tight red outfit embellished with vines which covered both arms and torso, but she scandalously lacked a veil. They were centaur, but so obviously foreign that he could barely accept them as being of his own species.
“Alright Sally. I’m still new to this. How do we decide who to work on?“
The mare, apparently in charge of whatever ritual the were discussing, sniffed and focused upon Leh’Prah. “We choose those who are most loyal. Strongest. Wisest. Most respected. You, you are the lord of these men and women, no? Tell us. Who lives?”
It was a hard choice, but the mare was right, if impertinent. The duty of a khan was to decide who lives and who dies. Just usually not so directly. The two of them miraculously pulled back most of the fallen from death, each in turn as he pointed them out. A few dozen remained on the ground, among them cowards, parasites, braggarts, and unfortunately a few that Leh’Prah simply knew nothing about.
The mares prepared a feast for these two, too exhausted to move, who had turned a crushing defeat into a retroactive victory, where they had slain four for every member of the clan lost. The windseekers were in awe of the white mare, who could wield such incredible power, and some of the weaker men wondered if they might copy this large stallion and learn the Druidic arts. If he could do it, why not they?
Leh’Prah was troubled, but at every turn the strangers demanded softness and protection towards his own people rather than submission to theirs, and heaped gifts of strength upon him. It was obvious that they wanted a khan that would serve their interests in Desolace. He was not stupid. He approached the stallion. “I must speak with your leader. It is improper to receive gifts anonymously. They may have a high price.”
“Huh? Oh. Sure man, when he has a minute. It’s just been really crazy for a while.”
••••••••••
Lividia spent the evening incinerating insects with holy fire. It was really quite fun. The hive in Tanaris was nowhere near as developed as the one in Feralas had been, so the defenses were really quite anemic. Her Flameborn were more than capable of defending her from simple insects, especially since none of these were the warrior caste Silithid. Perhaps they should have waited longer.
Lividia liked the changes made to the Flameborn; once her king had decided that they were to be a gift for her, he had made them pass around a collar to change their minds appropriately. Apparently using Irma, his treasurer, as the basis. Each of her dozens of handmaidens proactively sought to assist her in all things, and had been made smart, insightful, and cooperative enough to be useful rather than annoying. It wouldn’t do for them to be fighting over who got the privilege of handing her a drink, after all.
Bodyguards, servants, and toys; the Flameborn were here to do with as she pleased, which was terribly exciting. She would need to ensure that they continued to develop in strength; there was nothing more disgusting than contentment in weakness. One, whom she had named Lightning because that was her most useful spell and her old name was hard to say, had once been a troll witchdoctor. Soon they would all be witch doctors under Lightning’s tutelage, and those who couldn’t would be given the privilege of dying first on the front lines unless they used their intelligence to find something else more useful to do.
••••••••••
Aegwynn was nervous. The last time she’d given up her power had not ended ideally, but it’s what Erich wanted. A few hours of brushing up with Doan had been all she’d needed to catch up with the latest developments in magic, or at least all of them he was aware of. His shield was basically the only thing that would have been lost if they had done this prematurely, but it was best to check. The glass rod traded their power.
Aegwynn felt woozy for a moment, before realizing that was just the feeling of being reduced to Doan’s mental level. By the light, what would it feel like to be reduced to the level of an average person? She clutched her amulet and requested for her mental settings back to where they had been before the molten core assault, when she’d written down a template for herself. That was better.
She considered her options for a moment; she was certain she would be able to regain all she had just lost over three days. That was, apparently, an ironclad rule. Why stop there, however? She had around twelve credits on her account, between her service and her fresh sacrifice, and had very nice chambers back at Theramore. She could sell it all and easily recoup three hundred gold pieces. She looked at the rewards she wanted.
-10 one sexual encounter with Erich (impregnation allowed)
-5 costly transformation (troop template for power)
She had already been promised that she’d be retrained. That wasn’t in question, thankfully. Aegwynn enjoyed optimization. Strengthening herself, making improvements, experimenting to see what works. She was certain she’d enjoy learning it all again from scratch.
She had a unique opportunity to make herself even stronger; for all her power, underneath dozens of layers of magical protection she had been as vulnerable as anyone. If someone had managed to shoot her when her magic was fully focused elsewhere, or when she didn’t know she was in danger, she could conceivably have died at any moment. So the real question was: dryad for total magical immunity and a modest strengthening of the body, stone giant for maximum durability, or druid of the claw for durability mixed with an improved mana regeneration rate and even more spells? Decisions, decisions.