image [https://imgur.com/3ulv8Py.png]

Fangmore sat at a long stone table in the great hall of his castle. Staff bustled around, preparing a meal in front of him. He did not notice or care. His mind was consumed with what he had lost. Everything. Oh he still had his servants, and various constructs, and his castle, and his “power”. But he had lost his life’s work. He had lost his labyrinth. He had lost HIS HERO.

He had sent Dolcia out to track down The Hero and, if they were still together, Xanther. She had not yet returned and he felt her very distantly in his mind. What if she couldn't find him? And what if she could? If his Lord ever found out that he had conspired to keep The Hero alive then Fangmore would be destroyed. Likely worse than destroyed. He found he did not care. He wanted to rage, but felt utterly impotent. His mind kept seeking ways to turn this to his advantage, to recover his path somehow.

There was no way. He knew now that he was being watched, that anything that “altered the balance” was strictly forbidden. He could go to the frontlines and fight, possibly die, possibly ascend. That was probably the best action. It would feel good to rend minds and raise horrors.

He looked at one of his constructs standing mutely in the darkened corner. At over seven feet, it towered over the small kobolds that rushed to and fro. He had loved making them, when he was younger. To take organic and inorganic matter and combine them into something that was then given the spark of life, it had been very fulfilling. But they could only grow so strong. Each one could reach a max of roughly a level thirty warrior hero. And that was impressive! But then they simply stagnated. They also had very simple skills, no ability to be creative with their movements or decision making, and honestly they just became very predictable.

He had dabbled with demonic summoning, and had found Dolcia that way. That had been a nice hobby for a bit. The problem was that with the skills and abilities he had only one demon could be held on this plane. And he was very happy with Dolcia, so he had no interest in attempting to swap her out. Perhaps putting a demonic spirit into a construct body could allow for some interesting combinations, but from what he has researched that kind of being still had a pretty rigid power cap.

But at the end of the day only Chosen Heroes could reach the heights of power, ability, and potential. By the time they were level fifty they had outstripped all others in stats and skills, and only continued to grow stronger past that point. Well, there were Divine and Infernal beings that had been Godtouched who could outmatch them, but even Fangmore did not delude himself into believing he could access such a resource.

He slumped down pitifully into his massive carved hardwood chair. His long strong tail lashed the floor. If he had a tantrum right now nobody would stop him. And then he’d have a broken table and smashed food and plates and the servants would clean it all up and he would feel like a foolish child. He pushed back the gathering plates in front of him and laid his head onto the cool table. His eyes burned from unshed tears. “Unfair”. He had felt that a lot as a child, before coming to this world. And once he had come here he had soon found ways to make that “Unfair” work to his advantage. Twisting things so that he benefitted. So that the side of Darkness benefited. And FOR WHAT??

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He ROARED and gripping the table HEAVED it up. It crashed over with a resounding BOOM that made all the little kobold servants cower or flee. He stood there shaking all over, panting. A small plate spun down slowly, the sound of it growing quieter and quieter until it clattered to a stop. He slumped. Shame washed over him, and he slowly stood and then silently left the room. Behind him he already heard the sounds of cleaning and scraping.

It was pouring rain outside, the thick stone walls of the castle keeping the sound and smell of it totally at bay. He walked morosely through a small wooden side door and out into a sodden alchemical herb garden. The waves of rain washed over his overheated body and he felt his clawed feet sink into the softened mud and grass. The frontlines. He’d fight. It would feel better to fight than to sit in his thoughts. Maybe one day he would shake his head at his own foolishness. Not today though.

His mind briefly flitted to switching sides. To prostrate himself before the side of “Good” and then fight for them. His insides roiled at the idea and a sneering grimace pulled at his face. No. That would give him nothing but more shame. He slowly sat down on a dripping stone bench, his robes already heavy on his body from the downpour. He could just sit for a moment here. He was the ruler of this castle. Nobody could judge him for this. The weather at least aligned with his mood.

A distant voice called into his mind [Fangy! Fannngy hellooooo can you hear me? I found him I fouuuund him!] Fangmore sat up, alert, pupils dilating. [Yes! Yes I can hear you! Is he okay? What has happened??] A long moment passed, and then the distant voice came through again. [Well, he’s been a busy boy that’s for sure. Well, I saw a plume of smoke and was able to find him leaving a town. One of “our” towns, by the way. Looks like both he and Xanther really messed it up pretty badly. It was weird though, as I flew overhead there looked like there was a pocket in the middle of the town that was totally fine? I didn’t detect magic but it didn’t seem right either.]

Fangmore shook his head. [Enough about the town! Are you with him now? Does he know you are there?] There was another pause, and then Dolcia’s small mental voice came through once more. [I’m following them. I’m invisible. They are both acting really erratic, especially Xanther. What do you want me to do? They are moving towards the border and may run into Light side people soon.]

Running a large clawed hand along his smooth scaled head Fangmore thought quickly. In a split second he had made up his mind. [Using your other form, direct them towards the Night Caves. I will come to intercept. I… I must have him back. I need to see him grow and his potential realized. I can reach the Night Caves in a week. Tell them they have, I don’t know, passed a test or something! They should both still be very susceptible to mental manipulation. Alert me if anything changes!] He felt a distant mental affirmation, and a kissing sound, and then the presence in his mind was gone.

Fangmore found that he was standing, smiling. God he was an idiot. So many would kill to be him, and he could be throwing it all away. But they weren’t him, and would never be him, precisely BECAUSE he was willing to throw it all away.

He was being watched. He would at least ATTEMPT to be careful. He pulled out and rang a silver servant summon bell. “Ahem. I feel like I need a vacation. Please pack a bag for me. And my staff.”