Ominek eyed the slowly cooling cup of coffee that steamed in front of him. Eating had no purpose for one such as himself, but food prep was an art, and enjoyed all art. Especially the sweet tasty roll on the small plate next to his coffee. Melting vanilla glaze trickled down the curvy sides of the roll like melting candle wax. Idly, he triggered his perception skill again.
System Info: Cinnamon Roll. A pastry with a sweet taste. Incredible addictive if one lacks self-control. Gain +1 bonus to Aetherpool regen.
He scoffed at the missive and waved it away. “Thankfully, something I don’t want for.”
As if to punctuate the system missive, a green +2 appeared over his AP gauge. It didn’t move because it was full. He knew it would refill twice as fast if he needed the refill from spelling use, though. One thing these tree people knew well? Making sweet confections. Something he could appreciably miss back on Gaia.
Ominek glanced casually at the magical clock on the wall. It was about time for his meeting. A few minutes later, Allosius Rayshe took a seat, looking less than pleased. “You risk much doing this so brazenly in the public.”
Ominek rolled his eyes. “You worry too much. We’re just two patrons among many here. Watch.”
He stood gesturing to Allosius wildly, “Look everyone! Allosius Rayshe is here! We have Allosius Rayshe!”
Not a single head turned. Not even one casually interested person. Ominek sat down, looking mildly pleased that he’d wounded Allosius’ pride. Allosius smoldered in indignation and bottled rage.
“See? Nobody cares. You’re just another rich, petty noble to them. Now then. Have you brought it?”
“I have.” Allosius said haughtily. Ominek took great pleasure in watching Rayshe’s hand quake with tremors as the man feebly tried to resist. Slowly the dreadlord reached out to take the amulet and lifted it up to inspect it. He could see the runes and glyphs magically inscribed along its surface, and the small gem stones, mathematically aligned to perfection. This amulet was almost as powerful as an elder spell weapon.
“You’re certain it will work?”
Allosius looked offended at the question. “Of course it will work. We used it to great success against your shacklers.”
Ominek smiled, his eyes flashed, and their draconic nature showed momentarily. He watched Allosius stiffen. Good. Even soul bound, he could still know fear. It was an important lesson for Allosius to realize the futility of his plight. A lesson Ominek was all too happy to impart.
“Good. I would hate to visit the consequences of failure upon you, should it not.”
Allosius’ jaw muscles flexed and Ominek allowed himself a pleased smile. He was enjoying watching the impotent slave struggle against his chains. The power he commanded over Rayshe. It was intoxicating. He twirled the amulet dangling from his fingers on its golden chain a few times and then returned his attention to Allosius.
“All preparations are finished. It’s time to move. Our first target will be the ArchPriests paramour, Lucinda. You’re to invite her to a party as we discussed. You will give her this poison. Notify me when it’s been in her system for 6 hours precisely. Not a second sooner. Then I shall come finish my work. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Begin now.”
Allosius rose with no further word or preamble. Jerked upright by invisible strings threaded into his soul. Ominek watched him leave, almost melancholy. He couldn’t be there for the setup. He enjoyed laying a good trap, though, and this would have to be among his best work if he hoped to ensnare the reigning arena champion unaware. Thankfully, her penchant for vices and debauchery made it easier. Lucinda mistakenly lived by over celebrating her life, thinking her hardship had ended with her exit from the fighting pits. But there was no true safety to be had. Anywhere. He would teach the entire world this lesson.
He finished his sweet roll and left a dragon’s scale as payment. These people would all be dead in the next five solar cycles. Making some servers’ day was inconsequential. Leaving the small cafe, he strode off the path into a heavily secluded area and wove a morph spell, turning himself into a black raven. He took to the air and winged his way towards where Rayshe would set the trap for Lucinda. Now all he had to do was wait.
The intervening six hours passed without issue as Ominek sat perched on a tree branch near the Rayshe estate. He could have cast a scrying spell to observe, but he wasn’t that interested in the sordid details enough to do so. By now the sun was well on its way to setting, the last of its curved surface retreating beneath the tall canopy of the verdant world.
His patience with Allosius was about to wear out when a fiery cricket flew up to his raven form. It unfurled into a small illusory scroll.
System Info: Spell Missive sent by Allosius Rayshe: Ready.
The raven cawed eagerly, his eyes glowed with channeled void magic. A small circular umbral portal spiraled open in front of and beneath his perch like a tiny black wormhole. He hopped free of the branch and folded his wings back to dart into the portal like a feathered black arrow. He briefly knew a moment of absolute cold. A soft sheen of frost grew along his body as ambient moisture snap froze. Once inside the Umbral realm, Ominek could sense he was being watched, and did all he could to remain unnoticeable in the frigid black.
Inside Allosius Rayshe’s estate, he and Lucinda lay in bed. Lucinda stirred with a moan as he rose from the satin white sheets to clothe himself. Lucinda finally sat forward and looked at Rayshe. There was no shame here. Her relationship with the ArchPriest was such that the two could never officially be together. Eaulmant wasn’t the possessive sort, and Lucinda wasn’t the clingy type. The bounds of that relationship enjoyed a fluid nature.
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She rubbed her head with a grunt. A pile of bottle lay in the corner, along with various used herbs. The result of a long night of partying. She saw Rayshe getting himself situated quickly, misreading him.
“One of those kinds of parties, then. Right. I’ll get myself sorted.”
An umbral portal spiraled open in Rayshe’s bedroom at the foot of the bed. It bloomed large enough to allow Ominek through in his adult human form. Once he passed the portal’s threshold, he snapped it closed. Dusting the frost off the sleeves of his black suit.
Lucinda’s instincts served her well. She was upright, blade in hand, without a thread to cover her. Ominek had to admit, she was attractive, as she was dangerous. He knew if she brought that sword to bear on him, there was a very real chance of him being killed. She brought the blade around in a wicked slash. Ominek blocked with his obsidian spell stave. Sparks danced from the impact of mythril against dragonsteel.
Lucinda lifted a half, her expression flexed. Then relaxed into confusion as she examined her hand. “What? What have you done?”
“Poisoned you. Don’t worry, it won’t kill you. It targets your aether. In 24 hours, you’ll have regenerated your magic back. Far too late for it save you I’m afraid.”
Quickly, he wove a set of shackling spells and fired them both off with each hand. They plunged into Lucinda’s chest near the heart, whipping her head back against the wall. Had he not taken the proper precautions, the spell warrior would have made short work of him. Finally, she drew herself up off the floor. The horror was visible only in her eyes.
System Info: Thrall Gained. Lucinda is now a part of your party.
Her icon and name appeared in his group. she had two soul runes on her avatar portrait.
“What do you want with me?” she asked. Her voice muted and quavering.
“Nothing less than you poisoning your partner and helping me destroy this planet.”
Lucinda’s face fell, the gravity of her defeat settling in. She let out an amused chuckle. “It’s funny. I survived the arena for countless seasons. Became the closest thing to a celebrity this planet has. And I’m undone by a traitor, and booze.”
Rayshe said nothing, throwing her clothes at her before extracting himself from the room. Ominek remained. If she wanted to unburden herself or lament regrets, he’d oblige her that. She’d certainly earned it in his esteem. Where he’d purchased his survival on guile and cunning, she’d done so sheer skill and prowess.
“If it’s any consolation, you would have made a fine dragon in a different life.”
She put her clothes on stiffly. Like a puppet with a novice puppeteer at the strings. She was trying to resist, but he had her in a powerful set of interlocking soul shackles. She belonged to his will.
“It’s not, and it is. I grew up in the slums. Thought I’d starve. Got offered a chance to fight in the arena and never looked back. No one taught me.” Lucinda pointed to a myriad of scars. The sort that light magic could have easily healed. “I had to learn the hard way. So I did. I fought my way out. And then I promised to live it up. I spent so long at death’s door I got cold. So I used anything I could to forget that feeling.”
“And did you?” he asked.
She smiled softly, a small tear streaking down her face before shrugging. “No. It’s not something you just forget. It’s always there. It becomes a part of you. It lives in you. You can numb it occasionally, but eventually, when you’re sober again? You find it right where you left it.”
He folded his arms, studying her. The blood-soaked survivor in him recognized the same shock in her. The same shock in Morwen. They were all kindred of the battlefield. He had to admit, he actually liked the introspective side of her.
“I have to confess, I had you pegged as a party animal. I didn’t think about why you were medicating.”
“It matters little now. You’re going to force me to destroy the final remnants of happiness I have left.”
He frowned. That was true. She was his prisoner, just like he was a prisoner to Leviathos. He didn’t want to dwell on it. A small voice in the back of his head demanded he drop the shackling spells. But he couldn’t do that. His father would flay him alive. He’d accomplished the first leg of his mission. But this was the easiest part. Confronting his next two targets would require much greater skill, and much more luck.
“Unfortunately yes. You were a powerful and skilled warrior. Had we faced in battle, this contest would have assuredly gone different. But I haven’t survived this long without being the one with a plan.”
“And what is your plan?” she asked.
He contemplated telling her. But quickly dismissed any worries. She was soul bound. Even knowing what he wanted to do, she couldn’t resist. She could take no action that would threaten him or his designs. So long as she did so, she was free to act on her own, within reason.
“I’m going to blow up a corruption ritual above the Light Well.”
“And poison Eryn, like you did me.” Lucinda concluded.
“Exactly. I am going to reduce this world to a lifeless husk of rock. Just like it originally was.”
“Morwen will stop you. She’ll find a way.”
Ominek smiled. His crimson draconic eyes flashed menacingly. He shook his head no in response. “I’m afraid she won’t. I’ve arranged for a special dance partner for her and her friends.”
Pity he had to. It would be bittersweet, knowing she was just being jerked around by her father exactly like he was. They were alarmingly similar in that respect. Initially, he thought it a waste of time getting to know his prey, but he was fast approving of this method and approach.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s stubborn, that one. Her friends too. They won’t take your schemes laying down.”
He gestured for her to leave Rayshe’s bedroom. He was fast growing bored with her defiant comments. She was probably just trying to get a rise out of him. It wouldn’t get her what she wanted, though. And it would just make his satisfaction watching this world shrivel to dust even more satisfying.
A knock sounded at the door, and the pair of them froze. He gestured her towards the door. “Answer it.”
Lucinda finished dressing herself, and buckled her blade to her hip, then crossed the distance to the door in purposeful measured strides. She opened the door, choking out a surprised, “Morwen. Hello.”