"Sir, are you sure you should be, well… drunk?"
I lift my head up from the bar-counter just to glare at the stupid apprentice they sent after me. It was a pain to sit up, but it if it meant the guy would just leave me alone, it was worth it. He looked appropriately concerned about the fact that his commanding officer and one of the most powerful people on the entire planes of existence was busy drowning his sorrows in swill. That didn't mean it wasn't annoying, though. Everyone needed a day off sometime. Or three. He shrunk back under my gaze, which was also quite appropriate. Unmaking someone wasn't especially hard, and worse came to worse; I could blame it on the alcohol. No one would call me on it, even if it was technically impossible for me to get 'drunk'.
"Do you have any actual business, or did they just send you here to laugh at me?" I drawled, exaggeratedly. I tried to imitate the body language and tones of the worst reprobates I had seen. With any luck, that'd be enough for the kid to leave me alone. He didn't. The bastard actually nodded, either blissfully unaware of the implication that he shouldn't tell me, or brave enough to tell me anyway. "It's business, sir. There's been an unexpected-"
WHAM
"-change of territory, in which-"
WHAM
"-a stretch of land in the outer-"
WHAM
"-ring has been taken by-"
WHAM
"-a previously undocumented race."
WHAM
The apprentice had been taking his monologue seriously, like he was auditioning for 'dutiful officer' or something, but as he finished his sentence, he noticed the fact that I had been slamming my head down on the counter. He rushed over to stop me, pulling me back up. He was far too weak for that to be relevant, but I let him do it anyway. The barkeep would get mad if I dented his precious counter any more than it had been already. He hurried around, trying to find something to stop the little dribble of blood ushering out from my forehead. The kid had balls of steel, though. I had expected that little 'exchange' to be enough for him to take a hint, but he actually kept going. "You know of this unknown race, sir? They seem to have slipped under the 'Lady of the Cauldron's radar, somehow."
I practically jump to my feet. It takes all that I have to maintain what little bit of sanity I have left. I had already guessed the poor bastards out in the backwoods that were the Outer Ring would be quickly usurped by their new neighbors, but I didn't need to hear it- and not so soon. Power struggles and land claiming were normal, hell; wars for dominance were the lifeblood of the entire plane. It was true that they started to take different shapes as you traveled upwards towards the upper echelons of the Hierarchy, but it was all an unending struggle. It wasn't even rare for new races to quickly stake their claim. Even if they tried to sort the races fairly, there were bound to be imbalances. The Kaenid were a prime example- their kind took to magic like fish in water. No one had expected their Augmentation to make them quite so… potent.
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The circumstances weren't even, though. They had set the initial 'challenge' to quite high, given them areas generally inhospitable to their physiology, and hardly ascended any of their seemingly infinite populace. They had overcome all of that, and so soon. That was what had him shivering in his sandals. What would happen once they weren't hobbled? When they all met up? Further observations of their world had shown that despite a near-universal compatibility with magic, they hadn't even used it. The vast majority of their race had no clue how to interface with it, and the few who did wasted their potential. What would happen once they figured out how to use their magic? What would happen once they really figured out the Domain system in general? Knowing their history, it was quite likely that they had conquered the territory before they even realized what was really going on. He almost felt bad for the locals.
I point my finger at the kid, as menacingly as I could muster. I even unfurl my outermost wings. They knock over one of the beer steins, but I could mind that it a minute. "You're going to go back to whoever sent you and tell them, word for word, that 'the Humans are loose'." I lean over him, abusing my height to make an impression. The apprentice cowers back, twitching from head to toe. He nods vigorously and for an excessively long time, before finally running off, back from whence he came. I wrap my wings back around my torso, let out a deep breath, and ignore the stares of the small army of otherwise terrified bar-goers. They had evidently heard rumors of what happened the last time I had unfurled my wings.
It was so long ago. The Fifth Race, the (frankly quite disgusting) slug-monsters that were the Atraxos, had been the final race to challenge their eternal dominance. It had been a terrible war, wrought with devilish spells, the most dangerous diseases the Atraxos could manufacture, and hundreds of thousands of dead. I had been a significant contributor to that last bit, especially. Like the others who came before, the Atraxos failed their conquest- and things went back to normal. It was a matter of the civilized to fight and put past their grievances once the time for war was done. When the wounds healed, they almost got along better with the slugs. That was the scary part, though. So long ago, my Commander had impressed upon me one thing: Humanity did not forget. It was perhaps their most unique trait. They could be peaceful or militant, stable or chaotic, they would fill any mold they sought to be poured into- but they never forgot. There had been wars that lead to millions of deaths fought over the murder of one or two, there had been animosity retained for centuries even before the Humans began writing their skirmishes down, and that was just with each-other. He almost pitied the Kaenid, really. They would not be able to cull the Humans so easily, and if they earned their ire, it could be a battle to the death.
The hard decisions would come when the humans reached their gates, the home of the mighty First Ones, the Angels. The Humans were a spitting image of us, to such a degree it was uncanny, but they lacked our noble wings, and more notably, our mannerisms. I didn't want to consider that outcome, really. How could such a small, embattled populace make it all the way to the Inner Sanctum? Would I even need to consider whether they should attempt genocide, or just surrender outright, or try and convince them to participate in a fair fight like the Atraxos? The Ladies had set some things in motion that may have even stunted that risk. Surely, it would be enough.
So, down on the (now sticky) bar-counter my head went. The endless concerns were swirling within my brain, but I shut them out once more. I just needed rest. Maybe some more alcohol, too.