There have been a few times in history when the Creators have given a mortal a quest. Their divine tasks vary, but a fair few are asked to drive off a group of Clockworks. Most in the Blue-Robes deny these peoples’ stories, saying that they ‘defile the Creators’ names’ or something to that effect. In reality, those chosen by the Creators are upstanding citizens of whatever kingdom or empire they live in, are incredibly skilled in either battle or war (Yes, those two are different things), or are incredibly kind and diplomatic, able to rally the world by their word alone. One chosen by the Creators should not be taken lightly, no matter who they are.
-Excerpt from ‘The Clockwork Foe,’ by Ul’gard the Orc-kin
*=====*
The room beyond the doors was not a gaudy, richly decorated office as Mori predicted, but was a humble, finely furnished space. At the front of the room, a clocksteel coffee table stood in the middle of two green leather couches facing each other. The floor was carpeted, giving off an image of both subtle luxury and calm comfort. The walls were lined with bookshelves, each containing files, books, and tomes across their whole height and width. At the end of the room, a middle-aged orc was sitting at a desk cluttered with files and paperwork. He wore a robe, striped with green dye that ran across his chest, and had pitch black hair flowing down to his shoulders.
Looking up, the orc smiled at Zubov and laughed a bit, “Brother!” he roared in happiness, “You came to visit! I wish I could speak with you, but… well, I have a lot of paperwork to do.” The orc swept his hand over the piles of paper cluttering his desk, “Argh… Well, this is all worth it…” he muttered to himself.
Zubov gave a sad smile, “Sorry, Buvich, but I came here to get these two a meeting with you,” he said, shooting a thumb at Mori and Fara as he sat down on one of the couches, “You two?”
The two nodded, taking their seats on the couch opposite of Zubov. Buvich raised an eyebrow at his brother, but the guard shrugged. With a slight sigh, Buvich sat next to his brother, reclining back, “So… what do you two need? I spent a little free time looking at your files, just to make sure my brother’s safe, and you seemed pretty… normal? I guess?”
The two nodded, “Well, sir,” Fara began, “We… uh… met with the Creators.”
Buvich raised an eyebrow while a look of realization dawned on Zubov, “Ah… that’s what happened, then.”
“Zubov?” his brother asked.
“Oh, yeah, they’re not lying. Just a few minutes ago, actually, they came out of a gunfight with the Blue-Robes.”
Buvich looked at his brother, slamming his palm into his own face, “You idiot… Did you kill them?” he asked.
“Obviously,” Zubov snorted, “The idiots attacked us like rabid animals. Besides, it was within our right to enter the temple if something off happens. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
Buvich nodded, “Fine,” he said, turning back to Fara, “While I am a bit dubious of your claim, I do admit that if something ‘odd,’ as my brother puts it, happened at the temple then there will be enough evidence to reveal the truth. Anyway, what did the Creators ask of you?”
Fara looked at Mori, who nodded in understanding, and turned back to Buvich, “They want us to drive out a Hive in Aekan. It has fallen…”
Zubov, in spite of his normal personality, looked genuinely surprised, “Are you serious!? Buvich, are they-” Zubov turned to look at his brother, but found him wide eyed and staring at the two, “Buvich!”
The orc was roused from his stupor by Zubov’s shout, whipping his head to his brother, “Ah, my mistake,” he muttered, coughing slightly, “Well, I guess you have indeed met with the Creators then; the whole Aekan affair was meant to be kept under wraps until a sufficient force could be mobilized against it. The fact that you know about it so soon either means that our wave-gems need to be reinforced or you have met with the Creators. Anyway, now that you are here, what do you intend to do?”
Fara and Mori shared another glance and nod, understanding each other in a way the other two could not, “We have been given the task of helping you,” Fara said, “We want to fight alongside your fleet.”
Buvich nodded, “Of course,” he said, “Even if you did not have the approval of the Creators, any skiffs would be of help. However, since you have been given the task by the Creators, something else may be done,” he said with a smile.
Mori and Fara tilted their heads at his words, “What?” Mori asked, “Are we going to become icons or something?”
Buvich gave a smile, “No, nothing like that. By virtue of working under the orders of the Creators, you must be a part of the decision making. To do that… well, we have to have a meeting between the Grand Chiefs…”
Zubov raised a quizzical brow, “Do you really think that this is a good idea? I mean, the only reason why you are having this meeting is because of me, so will they listen to us on this?”
Buvich nodded, “Like I said, we’ve been swamped getting this all together and some good news will be a welcome change. I’ll have Chiva call an emergency meeting, then. Give me a moment,” he said as he stood and left the room.
“So… How long have you two been planning on meeting the Creators?” Zubov asked curiously.
Mori and Fara shrugged, “Ever since we came to the city?” Mori stated.
“I honestly got wrapped up in the whole thing after she told me something she wasn’t supposed to. I never thought that the Creators would want to meet with me, but… well, things happened,” Fara explained as Zubov nodded along.
As they spoke, Buvich walked back into the room and sat next to Zubov, “The meeting will happen in… about an hour?” he said with a questioning edge in his voice, “The others should be ready by then, anyway. Anyway, while we wait, is there anything else the Creators told you?”
Fara snorted while Mori’s eye-flames shaped themselves into crescents, “Oh sure, they talked to us about other things,” she said, her eye-flames swaying, “But we can’t really tell you about any of it.”
Buvich gave a wry smile, “I see,” he said, “Then, I’ll do some paperwork while we wait.” Buvich stood and walked back to his desk, sitting in his chair. Mori took a look at Zubov, who was looking up at the ceiling with a content expression, then to Fara, who was staring off into the distance.
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‘Probably using [Simulation IV] to think of something… Alright, I may as well finally choose some Traits, now that I’m thinking clearly…’ She pulled up her Status Page to take a good sense of how many Trait slots she had available.
[Name: Mori Athanatos
Species: Lich
Variant: Bargain Lich*
Level: 15(1%)
Traits:
Physical: (Mechanical Integration), (Mechanical Skeletal Manipulation VI [+1]), (Mana Rib V), (Free Slot)*2
Spiritual: (Multi-rune Casting), (Mechanical Affinity), (Multi-sigil Casting), (Enhanced Mind V), (Psychic Affinity III), (Psychic Conduit), (Psychic Flail), (Free Slot)*2
Granted Traits: (Universal Soul Language), (Adaptive Physiology)]
‘Oh yeah. I have two now,’ she thought. The two Trait slots were her rewards from the battle on the Kharon and the battle in the temple, and while she found the fight in the temple unnecessary violence, she had to admit that the extra level was well worth it. She hardly thought about her spiritual Traits, as she simply put one into [Psychic Affinity III] and the other into [Enhanced Mind V]. Splitting her picks was something she only begrudgingly did after realizing that choosing only psychic Traits would make her reliant on them. While she would have loved to learn more about her abilities, she did not want to anger two gods who had shown her favor previously. ‘Hell, not even his Argonauts could save Jason from his mistake of angering Hera. The favor of the gods is a powerful thing.’
While her spiritual Traits were much easier to choose, her physical Traits were a much harder decision. While she had invested heavily into [Mechanical Skeletal Manipulation VI], she had found little use for it so far. Likewise, [Mana Rib V] was something she had found little use in outside of mage-on-mage combat, something she had not dealt with before. She decided to delve into her Trait list. She searched for a few minutes, finding some interesting options but nothing that seemed immediately useful. For a moment, she wondered if there was some sort of Trait she had missed, if there was something that could be immediately useful that she had not considered. After a moment, she sighed; she did not want to waste her precious Trait slots nor did she want to simply throw them into something that was not completely useful.
Another moment passed and she sighed to herself once more. ‘You know what, let’s look for something that can be fun. Maybe it’ll spark my imagination,’ she thought. She decided to narrow her criteria down a bit, trying to find something more interesting than immediately useful, and found something that fit such a description.
[Emotive Skull: Your skull may act like a normal human face in terms of expressiveness and emotion. Does not impact your skull’s durability or other properties.]
‘...’ Her thoughts ground to a halt as she stared at the description, ‘This was made for me…’ she thought. With her eye-flames blazing with joy, she chose the Trait, throwing the other slot into [Mechanical Skeletal Manipulation VI]. The silence in the room was shattered by the cracking of bone.
Zubov whipped his head to her and widened his eyes, “You’re able to deal with that pain?” he asked, “Wait, do you even feel pain?”
Mori laughed, her skull’s face slowly deforming to mimic the emotion with every crack, “I’m able to feel stuff, actually,” she laughed, “It’s not that bad, you know; more of a prickling than anything else.”
“You’re saying that the pain of picking a new Trait is nothing more than a ‘prick?’” Buvich asked, just as incredulous as his brother.
Mori laughter was renewed, “Pretty much!” she laughed.
Zubov and Buvich shared a glance, shrugging as their eyes met, causing Fara to snap back to reality and chuckle with Mori. Just as they calmed down, a light knock came from the door, “Chief Rilig,” Chiva’s voice called out, “The Chiefs are gathering in the Council Room. They are ready to begin the meeting.”
Buvich was obviously taken aback, standing up and opening the door. The bespectacled orc woman stood beyond, with a pile of papers in her arms. Buvich stared at her for a moment before smiling, “Is that so? Alright, come on, let’s not keep them waiting,” he said, beckoning them out of his office. Mori, Fara, and Zubov followed him out, walking through the maze of corridors as he led them, Chiva slipping into the Chief’s office with the pile of papers behind them.
Their walk was a short one, as they soon reached a large set of double doors made of clocksteel. Zubov stood to the side, leaning against the wall while giving them an encouraging nod. With a grand shove, Buvich threw open the doors and stepped inside, followed by Fara and Mori. The room was not one Mori would have associated with the seat of government, as instead of resplendent carpets or carefully chiseled columns there were polished wooden floors, smooth but nonetheless bare marble walls, and simple magical lamps dotted on the walls.
A large, simple, half-circle table rested at the far side of the room with six chairs behind it. All but one of them were occupied, each with middle-aged to elderly orcs wearing faces of differing annoyance. Each also wore a robe, similar to Buvich’s, with different color stripes across their chests. Buvich’s was green. An elderly orc man with wispy hair wore a stripe of red. A middle-aged orcish woman wore a stripe of cyan. An elderly chimeric woman, as Fara described, wore a stripe of deep blue. A middle-aged orcish man wore a stripe of gold. The final person, an elderly human woman, wore a stripe of black. Mori could guess that each stripe signified a certain specialization, but what each was illuded her
The man wearing the red stripe growled at Buvich, “This better be good,” he said, “I have too much work to do to let you call these meetings.”
The woman wearing the black stripe rolled her eyes, “Oh, cool it, Filus. You heard just as well as the rest of us: the Creators are with us in this.”
Filus laughed, “That’s what everyone says when something weird happens in a temple! You, girl! What are the names of the Creators?” he asked accusingly.
Buvich suddenly wore a concerned expression as he turned to Mori and Fara. Fara turned her head to Mori and gestured her forward. “*#(_$*_!%^ and @!_!$_***,” she said in full confidence. The odd, garbled noise that emerged from her mouth came out in a particularly annoying pitch.
The elderly man grimaced, “So,” he said, “You're the real deal… Good. We’ll need all the help we can get. Buvich, come, sit down and let's get this started.” The orc nodded, walking up to the empty seat and sitting next to Filus, “Now then, all in favor of adding them to our forces?” Five of them raised their hands. “The vote passes with five out of six votes. Sorry, Eluiga.”
The chimeric woman with the deep blue stripe sighed, nodding, “I know, I know. I simply disagree with the idea of putting some kids- er… a kid and a skeleton out there as part of our military attaché. Actually, what are your skills?” she asked bluntly.
Fara stood before them, back straight and eyes on the chimeric woman, “I am a mechanic. I will admit that I am a bit inexperienced, but I am able to create devices out of scrap, if the need be there. I am not a strategist, however. I cannot lead an army, that much I know…” she said, stepping back. Most of those present nodded with her words, Filus being the only one to maintain a deep stare on Fara.
Mori then stood before them, her eye-flames shifting as if caught in the wind as she looked over them. Her skeletal visage soon shifted into a half-smile, bone moulding like clay, “I’m a necromancer. Obviously. I’m a spellcaster. I’m a warrior. I don’t sit behind an army and command. I lead the charge, if you will. That’s all,” she said, stepping back a step.
The Chiefs stared at her for a long moment, as if it were possible to parse some sort of secret from her now-neutral skull. The first to break the silence was the orc with the golden stripe, “It is a good thing, knowing your skills, I think. I believe they would do well with being part of our command, what with them having very specific niches that most others do not possess,” he said, sitting down.
The others nodded in agreement, murmuring their assent. With the strike of a gavel, the room fell into silence, “If there are no objections, Mori Athanatos and Fara Notchings will be conscripted into the Green Oasis envoy to the Joint Aekan Liberation Force. Now then, I have paperwork to do…” Filus stood, and hobbled out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Agreed,” Eluiga said, mirroring Filus’ actions and leaving.
One by one, the Chiefs left the room, soon leaving only Mori, Fara, and Buvich. After a silent moment, Mori looked at the remaining Chief, “Are your meetings always that… brief?” she asked.
Buvich laughed, “Yep, pretty much. This one was actually shorter than usual, you know? The names of the Creators are things that should be carefully considered, and you throwing them out there like that definitely sped up the whole process. Alright, come on, let’s go. I have just as much paperwork as that old bat Filus…”