Roland’s hands were capable enough when it came to necromancy, but he always looked more at home in front of a stove than he did in the heat of battle. Lieze understood the concept of ‘cuisine’ about as well as she understood the milk of human kindness. A lifetime of swallowing toads in the Deadlands had left her with a palate less developed than the average songbird.
When the platter was laid out before her, she had no words to describe the beastly longing that caused a trembling in her blood. She inhaled the hot steam and failed to comprehend the depth of its aroma, but her stomach reacted to it well enough. Glimpses of pink flesh were revealed beneath a veneer of dark gravy clinging to the cuts like glue, wrapped with flaking skin that seemed liable to crack with a glancing touch.
Nuggets of half-burnt pork stacked high in tiny clay bowls invited one to experiment with the board of sauces and herb-infused oils. Coils of beef unspooled, tenderised by an overnight bath of acidity, into shreds of marinated flesh that vanished like sugar on the tongue. Soups of every variety, smooth or stocked full of hearty vegetables, calmed the stomach when it became overstuffed. Flatbread parcels filled to bursting with ground meat and tingling spices rolled over one-another on the plate. There wasn’t a frog in sight.
Drayya’s hand reached in to steal a few morsels while Lieze was still attempting to comprehend the spread in front of her. Her expression tugged, unsure of whether to rest on surprised, wanting, or frankly confused. Roland never said a word, and disappeared back into the kitchen as soon as he slid the kiln-fired platter over.
Drayya leaned on the table, “What’s wrong? Aren’t you hungry?”
“...Is this cooked?” Lieze poked her finger against a pink cutlet.
“It’s medium-rare.” She replied, “That’s how you’re supposed to eat steak.”
“But it’s burnt on the outside…”
“A lesser woman would call that burnt. It’s called caramelization.” Drayya stuck her nose out while placing emphasis on the term, “Roland said that it’s actually beneficial to burn meat… sometimes… and, it’s not really charring, or burning, but some kind of secret third thing that only cooks know how to do. A bit like how your Heavenly Favours work.”
Lieze paused, “...What was wrong with frogs?”
“You said it yourself, Lieze - this is the birth of the new Order. And that means we have to leave some things in the past.” Drayya folded her arms, “No more Liches, no more growing people in bottles, and especially no more eating frogs. Also, use your knife and fork - that’s something else these so-called ‘civilised people’ do.”
“Didn’t you just use your hands?”
“Sometimes that’s acceptable. Table etiquette is very complicated - I’m not surprised you haven’t worked out the peculiarities yet.” She said, “-Is what I would say, if I really cared about how you eat your meals. Now hurry up and tuck in. I can tell how hungry you are.”
It was only natural that the Deathguards would want to celebrate their most recent victory, and Roland was more than happy to oblige with a well-earned feast after surviving on nothing but hardtack and dried meat for weeks. Fresh ingredients were a rarity in the Dwarven Mountains, but when you only had a few dozen mouths to feed, even the scarce pantries of an underground city were more than accommodating.
Roland was a talented cook - more talented, Lieze dared to think, than a necromancer ought to have been. But in that moment of deserved peace, she could have cared less whether he was shirking his duties or not. She tried to avoid Drayya’s amused stares while enjoying the first proper meal she’d had since departing from the Sovereign Cities.
“It’s strange.” Drayya muttered, “When you’re enjoying yourself, you actually almost seem like a real person and not some omnicidal maniac bent on destroying the world.”
Lieze covered her mouth and swallowed before answering, “That’s not the kind of image a cult leader would ever want to project.”
“Who’s projecting what? Everyone’s too focused on their meal to pay any attention to you.”
“So you say, but strangely, I can feel a very overbearing set of eyes trained on me at all times.”
“I’m allowed to.” Drayya grinned, “Aren’t I?”
“-Maybe if you didn’t stare at me like a specimen under glass.” Lieze said, “You wouldn’t like it if I stood over you every second of the day, would you?”
“Wouldn’t I?” She tilted her head, “Did you ask that on purpose? It sounds like you did. Are you flirting with me, or are you just being socially awkward? I don’t think I’ve ever been able to tell the two apart. Ah - but that’s also something I adore about you, Lieze. We’re always-”
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“Let me eat in peace!”
Rowdy. Cacophonous. Uninhibited. There was a time when too many voices in one place was enough to repel Lieze, but either through exposure or necessity, she had learned to tolerate the musings of her allies with enough patience to last her until the next moment of silence. Drayya’s constant teasing had been the perfect exercise for building and maintaining that level of tolerance.
Drayya gave in to Lieze’s demands for a practised handful of minutes before piping up yet again. “There’s only one place we could possibly go now.” She said.
“Yes…” Lieze replied, “-And I have a feeling we’ll find our last Scion tucked away in there.”
“The Black Forest…”
Akzhem - the homeland of Elvenkind - would be the final frontier of her crusade. Traversing its perfect darkness would pose a challenge unlike any other. The idea of invading a territory that had, for the longest time, invited the intrigue of even the most talented explorers, filled Lieze with trepidation. She would have no maps to rely on - only the fragmented recollections of the only Elf foolish enough to have joined her side.
“Before we think about moving on, I want to tie up some loose ends.” Lieze explained, “There’s still so much about the greater implications of our goal that I don’t understand. I’m going to decipher those mysteries while we have some time to rest.”
“Is this your way of telling me to tell the others that we’ve earned a break?” Drayya wore a tiny, expectant smile, “I’m sure we could all do with a morale boost after that battle. Eh? Eh?”
“Do as you please for the time being.” She didn’t gratify Drayya with a look of annoyance, “-But that’s not to say you shouldn’t be working. I want every intact corpse in these mountains raised by the end of the week.”
“You’re so demanding.” Drayya tapped her fingers against the table, “But we’ll get it done. I’m sure everyone is eager to keep this momentum. It would take a miracle for the Elves to stop us now that we’ve conquered the mountains.”
“Don’t let that confidence go to your head.” Lieze stood up, “Akzhem is a dangerous and uncharted land. We’ll be groping our way through the dark no matter how well we prepare for it. We’ve come too far now to trip and fall at the final hurdle.”
It sounded like hyperbole spoken aloud, but it was the full truth. One final conquest was all that stood between Lieze and her dream. The world’s end was fast approaching, and she would be the herald who ushered in that conclusion.
But, she thought, there were still too many questions left unanswered. Too many errant factors in play that she had yet to wrap her head around. Before the Order embarked on its final march towards oblivion, she had every intention of leaving no stone unturned in her quest to understand the Light-in-Chain’s true nature.
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First on the chopping block were the mystifying properties of quicksilver and its position as a coveted alchemical reagent. Before the encounter with Alistair, she had seen for herself its miraculous, life-lending qualities, and ever since had found her dreams plagued by theories as to its purpose. With time to spare and the facilities to accommodate her research, she wasted no time beginning her experiments to uncover the truth.
New Quest Received! ‘Elixir’ - Conclude the purpose of quicksilver Reward - 3,000xp
A small sample of quicksilver pilfered from the subterranean laboratory beneath Tonberg was all she had to work with. By mixing it with Mercuria, she was able to create an accidental and horrifying mass of seemingly conscious flesh. It bore a resemblance to the great alchemical work known as the ‘Homunculus’, one of the great treasures sought by alchemists of the past. In short, she had created artificial life - a feat thought forbidden to all but the Gods themselves.
Lieze sliced the flesh of her index finger with a dagger and used [Supreme Regeneration] to stitch the wound with corrupted Godskin. Piercing it once more, fresh Mercuria dripped onto the table littered with alchemical tools. She wrinkled her nose at the lingering stench of something acidic hanging in the air, and wondered if the Dwarves’ alchemical research had something to do with the creation of blast powder.
Tactfully, she mixed a few droplets of blood into her measly vial of quicksilver. By using [Blood Manipulation], she could then move the solution without dirtying her hands, directing a few millilitres onto the spreading mass of Mercuria to observe its effects.
There was an expulsion of gas and fluid that forced her to step back. Frothing, the mixture melded and conjoined into a network of sinewy strands. Amniotic fluid was squeezed like roasting juices from the mass as a taught layer of perforated skin was formed over the muscle mass and primordial organs. False eyes, half-crushed and feverishly seeking, split upon the surface like fresh wounds. Maws studded with rows of misshapen molars belched hot steam into Lieze’s face, and she caught the iron sting of fresh blood in her nostrils.
The resulting creation was not something that could be called ‘alive’ by any moral standard. It was a seething, cancerous teratoma - a cursed imitation of life one could only pray was neither conscious nor capable of experiencing pain. A halfway glance at the cluster of clouded eyeballs sprouting from its broken flesh forced Lieze to suppress a gag.
That said, her mind was aflame with theories. Why did the marriage of quicksilver and Mercuria result in such an explosive birth? What divine properties were attributed to Mercuria that saw it connected to the dawn of life itself? Lieze was so disgusted on her first attempt that she crushed the fleshy mass into pulp before any ideas could form. But for now, she would have to swallow down the urge to vomit that tickled her throat with acidity and examine the phenomenon in exquisite detail.
Lüngen popped by earlier and dropped off a number of implements that may have proven useful - scalpels, tweezers, and bonesaws. The thought of exploring that deplorable creature’s innards chilled Lieze’s blood, but if she wanted to understand the depth of its status as a living creature, then she would have to spare no expense.
With a sigh, she picked up a scalpel and met one of the pulpy beast’s glazed eyes.
“I’ll unravel this cosmic conspiracy if the last thing I do…” She muttered, “Once everything falls into place, I can finish my journey unburdened by doubt, certain that releasing the Light-in-Chains will result in nothing but oblivion for this cursed reality.”