NOVEL SIMPLE Preparing for the final confrontation
6/17 early morning
Nefaria crushed the murloc’s will. Fear and hopelessness had been her preferred tools in the past, but undeniable lust and affection could serve just as well. Azshara’s methods, refined over ten thousand years, could bend nearly any mind to her whims with concerted effort. Ever since Nefaria had reformed in the Eternal Palace, she had been dedicating herself fully to the subject. She had no other choice, no other chance of victory.
She was still an old god, with all the power that implied, but she’d been beaten again. She was down to herself, several dozen Naga, and Human Paladin. She wasn’t going to get another chance. She needed to practice rapidly capturing these creatures, and then she would ask to see Azshara’s more stubborn captives. Meanwhile, her few servants were completing as many minor missions as they could. Any advantage might win her this war.
••••••••••
Eonar and I looked down at the platform in front of us, where Trixie and a lucky lottery winner were going at it like rabbits. Sex, though hardly the most effective form of physical therapy normally, had a few edges in this context.
Count Remington, a Stormwind noble who had racked up reward points by donating tremendous amounts of cold hard gold to the cause, slapped Trixie’s ass as hard as he could while fucking her from behind, releasing a resonant tone from her metallic hindquarters. He was a titanic Watcher at the moment, in as big a size as they came, while Trixie was compressed to the minimum size a Titan could manage. He came up to her chest when they stood face to face; it was functional, but still a distinct mismatch.
The disparity in their relative strengths was far greater than even that implied. Trixie could rip this man in half with modest effort if she wanted to, and could severely injure him by accident if not for sexual calibration. Thankfully, with sexual calibration her body would stop short of anything that could harsh the vibes of their sexual encounter, allowing her to practice various forms of fine motor control with minimal oversight.
Doggystyle allowed her to practice holding a pose, cowgirl demanded motion within a fairly small range, and don’t get me started on the precision that goes into a handjob. Outside of certain incredibly kinky trolls, a man wants an amount of pressure placed upon his penis that is extremely delicate compared to what Trixie was thoughtlessly capable of now. She was serving as a solid proof of concept; after about a day worth of various exercises, sex being only one, she could mostly control her body. Well enough to pick up a wagon and put it down, intact, several hundred feet away… if she focused the whole time. There was still work to do.
I turned to Eonar, who stood head and shoulders over my enlarged Eros persona. I’d just gotten back from the Darkmoon Faire, where Auriel asked me how the fuck I’d managed to damage one of the indistructable necklaces. Apparently titans hadn’t really been intended as a “playable” species, since there weren’t any I was expected to have easy access to. She’d told me to ask Eonar for an explanation, since technically telling me what was up was against the rules. It felt more like an excuse to get me to fuck off than an actual point of policy, but I rolled with it.
“It’s reservoir lacks the power necessary for a Titan to mature in one day.” Was the Titan of Life’s gentle answer, “Trixie is, essentially, malnourished. A worldsoul would normally absorb the ambient energy of an entire planet for millennia before maturing into a Titan, Void Lord, or the like. The amulet was depleted, and the power draw did not abate when it reached that point. I believe an emergency shutoff protocol or a longer process of transformation would resolve the issue, but I am not Khaz’Goroth. Refining technology such as this is not my area of expertise.”
“So… what, they just didn’t foresee needing this much power?”
“I would prefer to attribute a baseline level of competence to those who created the cosmos in which I reside,” Eonar responded coolly, “so that is likely. They are almost certainly capable of doing it correctly, so I am forced to assume oversight or laziness.”
“So… malnourished?” I asked, “what does that mean? Can we… uh… feed her? How much would we need to give her?”
“It could take centuries for her to grow without using entire planets as a power source. If we could access the reserves within your amulets, then three would be sufficient for her to mature.” The bronze giantess shrugged. “She is stable. More energy would accelerate her growth, but it is not strictly necessary for her health.”
“What does that mean in terms of her power?” I asked, “how does she stack up against an old god?”
Eonar considered her answer. “I would guess she is roughly equivalent to the sixtieth percentile of old gods, in terms of raw power. However, to clarify, her chances of defeat in single combat with any mature old god is 9837 to one due to their talent at leveraging their inferior strength. By tomorrow the odds will improve to 1472 to one, with much room for further growth.”
“So… what about you? How do you stack up against, for example, the Old Gods found on Azeroth?” I needed to ask. According to official records the Titans outclassed the Old Gods to such a degree that they couldn’t effectively confront them without causing massive damage to the planet, but later expansions had revealed (or retconned) those documents to be Titan propaganda.
“At the height of their power? I would hypothetically be able to defeat N’Zoth in single combat eight times out of ten,” she revealed, “though such a direct conflict would be out of character for all parties. Neither of us are primarily combatants. Of course, none of the Pantheon save Sargeras and to a lesser extent Aggramar fully dedicated themselves to combat. We did not expect to need more than two such champions, given our power relative to most entities within the universe.” She smiled ruefully, “an oversight on our part. Or perhaps laziness.”
“One I don’t intend to repeat.” I assured her. “I have someone in mind to be my Sargeras already, and someone that already has what seems to be an infinite drip feed of energy.”
I waved over the girls in question. Darcell and Lividia seemed like the best two people even before this conversation, but I had wanted to figure out what the hell was going on before I started my dragon-hybrid testing.
••••••••••
Tarin was not sure how or why these three elven scouts, two men and a woman seemingly selected at random, had broken down in sobbing apologies when she had engaged them in combat, but she felt responsible for their well being as prisoners regardless. They had submitted to interrogation without much encouragement, and asked only that they be allowed to serve alongside Tarin personally.
By all accounts, even their own, they had earned death. A few months ago, these servants of the Burning Legion had snuck onboard the Exodar and assisted their mistress in sabotaging the engines. They were complicit in the deaths of so many draenei, and they had nothing to offer but shame and service. She couldn’t quite explain why she trusted them, but she had a gut feeling that she should. She chalked it up to the guidance of the Naaru, encouraging her to give even this scum a second chance.
She didn’t want to hear their sob stories about endless hunger, persecution, or the loss of their homeland to the living dead. She didn’t want to sympathize with them. She didn’t want to forgive them, even if she accepted it would be better to put them to good use. She did all those things, grudgingly.
On the other hand, her small entourage of magi and scouts allowed her to push herself further. That was a damn fine thing, since the mission laid down by her gemstone had followed through when she completed it. She had been gifted a suit of form-fitting armor made of a shining silver metal, embellished with cloth to make it almost resemble a dress.
It, along with a similarly ornate longbow she inexplicably knew how to use, would appear and disappear from her body at her whim. The available magi hadn’t been able to explain what was happening, but were able to confirm that the equipment was of exceptionally high quality and infused with the power of a powerful being of the light, likely a Naaru. They recommended following through on future missions proposed by the amulet, so long as they remained benevolent in nature.
Fulfill the prophecy of the Stillpine Tribal Prophet Akida
Reward: VIP Service
Patron: Your priests, Druids, and shaman will gain the ability to cleanse maddened furbolg of corruption with a standard cleansing spell. In almost all circumstances they will be happy to receive this treatment.
Tarin still didn’t know what was meant by “patron,” nor did she know what VIP service was. What she did know was that the Stillpine Furbolg seemed to be suffering, and she could somehow speak their language. They spoke of a prophecy that one not of their kind would save them in their time of need from their corrupted brethren. She would be their savior, and she would do so happily.
••••••••••
Lividia insisted on switching to a different necklace before becoming a Titan, which I agreed on. Her string of glowing green pearls were what brought us together. Best to keep them safe. It was the right call; the ruby set in silver that she took from the ops team cracked right on schedule as her body expanded into that of a Titanic dragon. From Eonar’s disapproving expression she was far more dragon than Titan, but she was basically functional in only a few hours. She held Light’s Wrath and let light energy flow into her constantly, which filled her empty “belly” quite well.
Darcell was far more titanic; apparently bronze dragons were very compatible. With that in mind, we shifted Trixie into a bronze Titan (the amulet didn’t break because we were going from Titan to Titan) and started teaching her how to take on a visage. Darcell, on the other hand, was moving and assuming a visage within a few minutes.
I felt extremely vindicated; I had remembered her heroic Evasion skill gave her superhuman awareness of her own body and surroundings. That translated into her jumping fairly far along the path towards being fully functional in a few moments, and her proficiency with her Warglaives was nearly undiminished. I was giddy, but if I wanted to really capitalize on this and turn her into my very own Sargeras I needed to get her training from someone who could fight Sargeras. It was a short list, but I had just the guys. They even used the same fighting style as her.
••••••••••
Leotheras, my latest death seeker, would be serving as her primary sparring partner. He was… relatively expendable, and had all the skills of Broxigar plus two layers of other great warriors. Once I was sure that Darcell wouldn’t kill her partners accidentally and she could reliably overpower Leotheras alone, I’d add in the ancient version of Illidan. He had the raw power of canon Illidan, who could fight Sargeras pretty effectively. That left only one person: the coach, the man who had the practical experience and skill necessary to beat Sargeras if given a large enough power boost and a bit of setup, the recently captured modern Illidan.
••••••••••
I arrived via apportation in his bedroom, where I immediately felt a bit awkward.
“Yes! Yes! Harder! Fuck me you bastard!” He was going to town on a night elven woman with long silver hair. At the moment, she had her arms wrapped around his neck but I saw long trails along his back where she’d clawed him hard enough to draw blood. The scratches had healed immediately, but the blood remained. The two seemed extremely wrapped up in their wild frenzy of lust, but I could tell from a slight tension that Illidan had noticed my appearance. It might have been almost subconscious, but he knew I was present.
“I’ll let you two finish.” I excused myself awkwardly. “Come talk to me when you’re done, alright?”
The two ignored me as I slipped out. I wasn’t in too much of a hurry. I nodded at the two Demon Hunters guarding the door and asked the obvious question.
“So, who was that in there with him?”
“Maiev Shadowsong, my lord.”
I blinked. “His warden? Doesn’t she hate him? Like… all consuming rage and hatred, sacrifice everything to lock him up for another ten thousand years?”
“I guess that passion had to go somewhere, and it’s hard for us to hate each other once we are all in the retinue.” The blindfolded elf shrugged. “It took about thirty minutes after her capture for the two of them to go to bed together. I think they’re probably going to keep it up until they’ve worked out ten thousand years of tension.”
“Huh. Good for them I guess.” I sat for a while, checking in on Tyrande’s isekai. After around half an hour of listening to Maiev scream Illidan’s name I had a thought. “Uh. How long have they been going at it?”
“Well, she was captured eight hours ago. So… seven and a half hours.”
“Okay… I hate to do it, but I’m going to need to split those crazy kids up.”
••••••••••
FEEL THE HATE FUCK OF TEN THOUSAND YEARS!
••••••••••
Company credit budget: 9
-1 permanent purchase: Lividia
-1 permanent purchase: Talaada
-2 Letter of Recommendation: Child by Lividia, Child by Azshara, Child by Aegwynn, Tony, Nefaria, Vanessa, Onyxia, Sylvanas, Sally, and Abby (subject to change)
-1 Animal folk become more human looking, generally looking like basically attractive humans with pronounced animalistic traits.
-1 Female undead are always aesthetically pleasing and capable of having sex. Generally speaking they are also interested in having sex, though they are no less aggressive and only slightly less deadly despite that.
-1 PvP is never incentivized. Should two testers come into conflict it will be on entirely personal grounds. Drawbacks involving PvP can override this; you knew what you were signing up for.
Remaining budget: 2 credits