The godling silently watched as the orc was slowly dragged into the ground. It continued to watch the results of its own odd display of magical prowess until the orc's unconscious head sunk beneath the visible surface of the unpaved and grassy ground the two had interacted on top of.
Once it watched the unconscious humanoid sink beneath the surface of the malleable grass, it poured even more magic into that area and solidified the same ground it turned into a pit just moments ago so that the orc would remain trapped there unless it purposefully decided to free the raider.
Satisfied with its usage of magic the creature nodded to no one in particular. Then the deity turned back in the direction of the town and went off in the direction wherein it could hear noises resulting from nearby orcish activity.
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Shortly after it resumed its potentially destructive journey into the town, the terrain beneath its feet began to change. It went from walking on top of unpaved terrain, mostly warm and grassy terrain at that, to walking on top of cool cobblestone. The godling keenly and noticeably felt the change as its feet were the one area that was unarmored and was nakedly visible to anyone who could see the godling. It was the area of the godling's body that was the most sensitive to outside stimuli. It wasn't a fan of the cool sensation of the cobblestone and decided to find a way off of it quickly.
Not long after the terrain it was walking on changed it reached the houses, or more accurately the huts, at the most remote outskirts of the small town. Such huts were shoddily built, often composed of a fusion of dried mud and other natural and often free things the poorest villagers could find. The shelters, if they could even be called that, were then built using the magic of a low-level mage or in rare cases by a serf who happened to come across a remarkably low-level scroll of the spell most commonly called create shelter.
The godling could tell at a glance that these huts had been in disrepair long before the orcs struck this town. It could hear the sound of vermin roaming freely inside of the huts, and smelled the damp musk of mold, most noticeably the scent of mildew coming from inside of them.
An inexplicable longing to meet some of the unwelcome yet tenacious inhabitants of these miserable shelters filled the godling. The creature's natural curiosity compelled it to answer the longing, so the godling temporarily put its initial mission on hold and ventured into the nearest hut which was not far from the creature so it took it a matter of moments to reach the grassy curtain that acted as a front door.
From the outside, the tiny hut that the godling was about to enter was a small shelter that had a quirky roof made of leaves woven together using a strange homemade adhesive. Impressively the adhesive held together even though the hut itself was abandoned and devoid of any sentient residents who'd be needed to reapply it.
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From the inside of the tiny home, the creature was greeted by a dense and noxious mixture of scents. The myriad of smells mixed together to create a pungent cocktail and had the creature been mortal, such a powerful scent could well have sickened it. Instead, the godling quickly and quietly adapted to it without so much as uttering a single complaint.
The small hut was devoid of furniture, though the godling could see odd patches of discoloration on the floor in the hut. The deity inferred that the hut's minimalistic interior was due to theft and hadn't been the natural state of affairs when the house was abandoned, however long ago that may have been. It moved silently through the tiny hut and explored the floor with its eyes.
The floor was dusty and as a consequence of that, the dust made it an easy place to track things. The godling easily noticed the tiny padded footsteps of mice, and after taking a few moments to scan the various prints that went from one end of the hut to another began to notice differences between sets of tracks, including a difference in the number of digits in each print and in the density of each print, suggesting significant differences between the mice living in this house.
One particular set of prints stood out to the godling. At this point, the deity estimated a total of 5 different mice in the hut, and of them, 2 had fewer digits than the rest of their little family. The godling was interested in the lighter mouse that lacked a few digits compared to the rest of its mousy family. It was curious as to what the creature would look like, and especially in comparison to the rest of its tiny family, or at least its tiny neighbors.
[I can tell you're feeling... curious again. Do you want to try and call the mice out of hiding using magic?]
The source of the suggestion was the staff the godling held in its left hand. The mysterious artifact was actually an orb-angel that had shape-shifted to better aid the deity in combat and to shape the magic the godling supplied it with into memorable attacks. So far the staff had been used once: to bind the orc who was now hidden just beneath the surface near the town's wall.
[Can I do that?]
The godling's question was a good and a fair one. Though the deity had infinite magical power, the creature had only used magic once on its own and that was to manipulate the earth itself. It had yet to use magic that directly affected a living creature.
[Yes you can. Let me explain how to do so.]
And so the angel who accompanied the godling readied itself to begin instructing the godling in the power of illusion magic.
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The godling was now seated in the center of the small hut. It quietly and respectfully listened to the words of its angel companion whose staff form was placed gently on the floor, the area surrounding it cleared of dust by a single powerful and magical gust of wind it had expelled shortly before the godling placed it on the floor.
[Illusion magic is an especially potent form of magic that doesn't actually affect reality itself. In its more common form, it targets minds and souls, plaguing them with the creation of fake stimuli meant to trick them into running into a trap, turning on their friends, or otherwise make them take specific courses of action. In another, more powerful and sinister form it could directly target minds and souls and use magic to overwhelm and override their wills and turn them against friends or make them believe sworn enemies are righteous and trustworthy allies.]
The orb angel spoke of this magic with an odd reverence. Its telepathic voice was quietly filled with awe and respect for the subject matter. The godling noticed this and after a moment of contemplation decided it needed more knowledge. So the creature spoke up and directly asked the angel what was on its mind.
[Hey, listen. I've got to ask you something... I've noticed some weird stuff about you and I want to understand what I've seen. You know as much about me as I do, and frankly, you know MORE about me than I do. I want to know more about you. What's up with the plants from earlier? You know, that weird thing you did when we were in the grasslands? And why do you seem to like illusion magic so much? Don't get me wrong, it sounds awesome, but it is odd how much you like it.]
The orb angel was mentally silent for a moment before it could formulate a response it felt satisfied with. After thinking for what felt like a long time, the odd creature did respond to the blunt questions.
[My name is Samyaza. In the distant, and I do mean DISTANT past, I served an evil god of poisons, serpents, and illusions. I was deeply affected by what my old master was passionate about and it instilled in me an admiration for the old domains of he whom I once served. I am unsure of the sort of god you will become, but I am not remotely ashamed of the deity whom I once served.]
Its mental voice was somber and its thoughts brought a heaviness with them. It continued without waiting for the godling to respond.
[That's why I feel strongly about this. I may not know the true fates of the disappeared gods, but I remember my old master and if in teaching you I can instill in you an admiration for the subtleties of poisons, illusions, and serpents then perhaps a portion of my master's power will live on in you. And earlier I was scanning the plants and seeing if any of them had any usages in potions, or better yet in poisons. They had usages in potions, but not in poisons, sadly.]
The angel was uncharacteristically forthright in its declaration to the deity. Its words were powerful and changed the mood in the small hut bringing it down but also inspiring the godling.
The godling quietly developed a new layer of respect for the ancient angel. It also realized that in order to convince the creature to become a true servant it would take time and that the angel wasn't merely searching for someone to serve. The angel was a complex being with the will and skills needed to do things that advanced its own agenda.
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The silence that followed the declarations of the angel were broken by the angel deciding to return to its lecture. After a few minutes of silence, while the godling absorbed the weight of the declarations, the angel carefully thought about what it would say next. Ultimately it decided to return to its original topic: teaching the godling how to use illusion magic.
[To use illusion magic you've got to have a clear mental image of what you want to do. Either form of the magic requires an indomitable will, a clear understanding of the sensations or feelings you want to evoke, and significant amounts of magical energy.]
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
The godling nodded and began to clear its mind of outside stimuli. It focused on what it wanted: it wanted to cause the mice it saw to come out of hiding and greet it. And then Samyaza mentally spoke once more.
[Illusion magic might not alter reality, but it strikes at something far more potent than that, at least on an individual level. It targets senses, it targets feelings, and it targets the very souls of those unlucky enough to fall victim to an illusion spell. Aside from spells that target the simplest lifeforms, illusion magic is magic that is very expensive in terms of magical energy. To anyone but you that would be a significant deterrent that gatekeeps many people who are admirers of this form of magic.]
After listening to this the godling closed its eyes. With its eyes closed, it silently reflected on the weight of the words of the angel and mentally called out to its mysterious wellspring of magical energy.
[I don't yet understand where my magical energy comes from, but if there is a part of me that unconsciously controls my distribution of magic, consider this me formally calling out to you. Apparently, this magic is costly and I'm gonna need some overflowing magical munitions!]
And that was when the godling began to glow a quite bright white light as its body was flooded with a wave of powerful mystical energies.
[Mice! I want to meet you!]
The godling released the mental version of a shout and unloaded the mystical energy that surged through its veins all at once. The energies that had been circulating in its body was released outward all at once. The magic seeped into the hut's very walls and coated the entire area in thick mystical might. The aftermath of this would be quite gruesome.
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Seconds after unleashing all of its mystical powers at once, the godling was surprised to notice a new sound coming out of various parts of the tiny hut. The sound was the unholy mixture of the sounds of bowels emptying and blood oozing out of tiny orifices, as well as tiny noises that resulted from mice who had been standing collapsing in death.
[So... some creatures can't take an excessive mental stimulus. Their brains can be overloaded and the result will be a bloody mess. Specifically, over stimulus of their minds can cause them to experience something like a fatal brain aneurysm.]
The orb angel hadn't anticipated the godling relying on overwhelming magical force. If it had it would have warned the creature of this simple and well-known fact in advance. So the deity's odd and unlikely failure wasn't entirely the creature's fault, though Samyaza didn't think to tell the creature this, mostly out of shame that it itself felt for failing the first deity it had encountered in eons.
The angel should have remembered that for all of the creature's power the godling was still deeply ignorant of the nature of the world and of the limitations of many different kinds of creatures. The silence that filled the air between the two creatures, as the scent of blood and defecation mixed with the other scents, was awkward and in its own way quite loud.
The godling's failure was deeply embarrassing, and its pride was hurt. This failure caused the creature to experience a rush of anger and humiliation that filled it with an intense desire: to leave this place.
It turned to leave the hut, just in time to hear the noises of orcs approaching its general direction. Now, this put a smile on the godling's face, a curious smile that only loosely had fragments of rage within it.
The godling's mind turned back to its original mission after encountering the first orc: studying and possibly eliminating the orcs who had taken up residence here, one by one. And the creature intended to fulfill this purpose. It had no idea that it'd learn of how to casually inflict pain merely by watching the orcs.
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The squad of orc warriors were unlike their fellow raiders. The trio were siblings, not triplets or anything but a trio of orcs who shared the same parents and even the oldest of them was born just months before the youngest in their squad due to orcish pregnancies being among the quickest of all monstrous humanoids.
The trio of heavily armed warriors were incapable of having faith in their more lightly armored but more heavily armed companions.
Though their lives had been made easier and safer by the support of their fellow raiders, the three of them lacked the ability to effectively coordinate their actions with the actions of the rest of their team because of their fellow raiders insistence on relying on their weapons.
The orcs were akin to monks who fought using their own bodies and anyone who relied on weapons instead of their own physical prowess would never earn the respect of the warriors. And as they quietly neared the outskirts of the town they wondered if they'd ever find a human who thought like them, because so far they had yet to encounter any human martial artists or monks.
Unbeknownst to them, they were approaching an endlessly curious warrior who was capable of truly stunning magic and innately possessed a mysterious affinity for using its own body as a weapon.
And it was quite unlucky for the talented trio that their opponent was someone who was capable of learning from them with little more than a casual gaze, and who had never seen people before.
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The godling had quickly hidden from the approaching orcs. Its tremendous hearing gave it the advantage of having several minutes to plan its course of action, which ultimately was quite simple: it'd ambush the orcs, separate them possibly through the usage of magic, and then more thoroughly study them.
Finally, it'd need to decide what it'd do their with unconscious forms if they were strong enough to stay alive and endure its curiosity until they lost consciousness, or bodies if they lacked that level of strength.
The godling had hidden in the shadows of one of the larger huts in the area. It stopped breathing, tried to silence the noise of its footsteps, and had even masked its scent with the scent of the huts. It was stealthy and it was more than capable of waiting for the creatures to get closer. In its silence, it was filled with curiosity, its mind wandering.
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When the trio of orcs neared the hiding place of the godling, they came across an inopportune fellow: a brave man driven by despair.
This aforementioned brave man driven by despair burst out of one of the nearby houses, a small steel dagger in his hand.
"Orcs! I'll fucking kill you!" He roared, as he lunged at the trio. His bravery had mixed with his despair and together they created a poisonous cocktail of rage that drove him to attack the objects of his hatred.
"Ahhh!" He said, his voice turned into a weak weapon that some small, logical part of his mind hoped would allow him to fill his opponents either with fear or at least distract them while he approached. It didn't work.
The three orcs gazed coldly at the human, surprised that one remained alive in the village after the assault. There was neither fear nor chaos in their eyes, only an eerie coldness that chilled the tiny part of the human's brain that remained logical in the face of despair mixed with rage.
When the human had closed the distance between himself and the orcs, one of them merely extended his fist into the human's face. The resulting impact was cruel, and sent the angered man sprawling backward and down into the dusty floor at their feet, stunned by the suddenness of the blow. The orc responsible for the blow grinned.
"So there's a human, still alive?" He said, his voice rough and touched with a hint of malice. His siblings were behind him but they grinned at what they heard in his voice.
One of the trio approached the human, and knelt down by his side. He grabbed the man's arm and brutally wrenched the weapon out of his hand. The man flinched in response to the brutality of the orc and began to try and meekly punch at his captor.
The orc took the blows without complaint, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that began to glow more intimidating with each blow. Even after he had disarmed his captive, he kept one of the man's arms painfully grabbed and chuckled at the human's blows.
The human was weak-willed and thoroughly distracted by the orc beside him. He didn't notice that the orc's siblings had begun their approach, effortlessly closing the distance between themselves and their captive. He didn't notice until one of the orcs who wasn't his captor aimed a brutal kick at his face, one that collided with the human's ear, and rocked his skull back.
The god watched this, curious and even vaguely amused by the display of brutality put on by the orcs. This is interesting. The way they moved their bodies allows them to inflict... pain? On their captive. The thing observed, studying the scene before him with intense interest.
Some part of it delighted in what it was seeing. In what it was learning. In some ways, this scene helped it make sense of combat, and of the ways that people interacted. After all, this reflected what had happened to it when it stumbled across the first creature it had met that didn't talk first: the orc that had fired upon it and was subsequently defeated by it.
So if people attack you and fail they can be hurt by you... but what if you attack people? If you win are you allowed to toy with them? It wondered. This question would evolve into a sort of philosophy for the young god later on: "Try not to attack people first, unless you know for sure they mean you harm."
But at that moment, the little godling didn't have the knowledge needed to grapple with that sort of moral question. Instead the thing slowly decided, almost out of childlike glee, if such an emotion could be mixed with a desire for violence, to mimic what it had seen. To show the orcs who hadn't been aware of its presence what it had learned from them.
It had no way of knowing that the sight of the orc's violence had inspired it and also had mixed with the innately negative feelings it had felt when it realized that its spell hadn't worked, and it had instead killed the mice in the house.
It was that unpleasant cocktail of emotions that drove it to reveal itself to the orcs, and to mimic what they had done to the human, to them. After all, they looked like they had had fun, and it also wanted to have fun.
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Within a matter of minutes, the orcs had tortured and almost by accident murdered their attacker. The human's corpse was something they briefly considered eating, but ultimately they just lifted it up and deposited it unkindly back in the house he had just attacked them from.
It was at that moment, seconds after they left the house of the attacker, that their silent observer decided to act. The godling had watched, waited, and studied them. And now, unbeknownst to them, it felt a desire to mimic them. It was unfortunate for them that they were the closest creatures to it. Their attacker didn't wait long.
Once they were back out of the house their human assailant had lunged at them from, the godling immediately made its move.
The trio felt an oppressive pressure in the air around them suddenly emerge that made them freeze up. They couldn't name why they felt this pressure, but they each felt the hairs on the back of their necks stand up as well as the hairs on their arms do the same thing.
They knew this sort of feeling could be triggered by a tremendously powerful sense of bloodlust but they had no idea if they were feeling something real or if they were feeling some sort of residual hatred from the recently created spirits of their victims throughout this town.
Regardless of the origins of the pressure the trio huddled closely as they tried to explore the huts at the edge of the town. Once they had just walked past the godling none of them saw or heard the quietly enraged creature rise from its hiding place and begin to stealthy approach them.
All they knew was that something was emitting an inhuman amount of killing intent and that if whatever it was bared its fangs against them they'd be in for the fight of their lives. And they had no idea how right they were. After waiting for a few moments the godling was ready to strike and mentally readied its first lunge.
Before they even knew it or had the remotest understanding of their circumstances, the orcs were in a desperate battle against a cold enemy, one who possessed infinitely more power than even all three of them did. And one who wasn't driven by hatred, but a cocktail of emotions.