This is the story of a fish, not a magical fish or a sapient one, no it was just a fish when it all started. He was an unnamed thing but if a human would have fished him up he would have been called a crimson salmon. Famous for having red if slightly dull-looking scales and being one of the few species of salmon that do not live in the ocean at all. He had just followed his instincts and swam upriver to breed when it had happened. Strange almost flesh-like spores had fallen into the little stream that he had found and the fish ate the spores before they fully dissolved in the water.
It was such a small thing really, a simple fish swam through a small forest stream with a simple yet all-important goal in mind. A few days earlier it had jumped up the rapids of a river and dodged the grasping talons of a bear that tried to skewer it in mid-air. He ate insects and small scraps of food that he found along the way, nothing too time-consuming just enough to sate the hunger as he swam and swam.
The pain started only minutes after he had consumed the small spores in the water, a burning sensation in his stomach alerted the fish to the problem. So, the salmon vomited quickly to eject the potentially bad content from his stomach. It was a simple instinct ingrained in most animals and it did usually help with these things. Not this time, however, the pain just continued to intensify for the little fish as his swimming slowed as the pain spread.
And it took only a day to convert the little fish as his simple body was no match for the alien will of a Sovereign who desired to rule all that lived. The fish had been infected by a power from beyond any single reality and in the brief day it took to finish the process he experienced pain so unbelievably tormentous that his little brain had no way to process it. He squirmed and splashed in the stream until several of his muscles tore from the strain and the bones in his tail broke after hitting the bottom too many times.
When it was finally over for him he sunk down to the bottom of the stream to die. The natural response of any animal when fighting was no longer an option and the pain had become too much. And he did indeed "die" where he lay on the muddy bottom of the stream. His mind and soul were snuffed out as the infection completely reworked his brain and what was left was a living zombie composed of flesh, fungi, and bits of plant and metal. Yet another nameless salmon that died on its way up a stream.
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This is the story of a Fragment, she was one out of several millions that had spawned and that will spawn from the Sovereign Swarm. She doesn't know much in life, she knows how to pilot the body she has been assigned and that the Swarm is always with her and that the Sovereign must always be obeyed.
She had piloted the body as was her duty and followed the general directives passed through whichever Collective she was connected to at the time. Being a single individual spec in an evergrowing chorus was difficult enough, especially when one is isolated from almost all of the other units as the Swarm was lacking in aquatic Units.
One day after she had been spawned the Sovereign themselves actually paid attention to her, it was almost unheard of that the Sovereign Swarm paid attention to a single individual Unit. But she had been given that level of attention and along with it extensive modifications. The salmon body was modified to make it faster, stronger, and more durable than ever before along with now being able to survive in all types of water. It looked more like a hybrid between a fish and an eel than the original salmon it had once been.
The Salmon Fragment was no Fungal Champion...yet, but she had been chosen to be more than just another disposable Fungal Zombie. Maybe the system of the Interface didn't distinguish her from the rest but circumstances did if nothing else, because after being transformed the Fragment was ordered to leave and travel to someplace far away from the rest of the Swarm. She was journeying to the sea.
So, with single-minded determination, the Fragment steered their body down the stream that the previous inhabitant of the body had once traveled through and died in. She had a mission and that made her special as single fragments did not receive missions, but that which made her even more special was that she had something truly unique. The Salmon Fragment possessed an allotment of energy that said Fragment could use to activate Powers. It was a practically minuscule allotment, but it was still an allotment that a single Fragment had decision-making power over.
Not that the Fragment thought about these things, it simply focused on swimming and swimming and swimming until she would reach the ocean. That was why she existed and therefore she would do just that. She swam through the streams and rivers that stretched throughout the Kingdom of Chilvale and towards the lawless lands next to the sea. Unfortunately for the Salmon Fragment, she was lacking in a sense of direction so a trip that could have only taken a few days ended up taking weeks to be completed.
At one point she even got lost in a small lake believing it was the sea and it took a long time before the Swarm noticed the mistake and corrected the mistaken Fragment. When she resumed the journey she ended up traveling in the wrong direction for two days until the Fragment self-corrected. Downstream, not upstream, that was the way to follow. But in time the Fragment reached the ocean and her true work could begin after all of her effort.
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This is the story of the Draug, he was a dead ting walking...or rather sailing to be more accurate. He was so old that he didn't actually remember ever living before his timely or untimely demise. Names, epithets, and monikers had all faded over time leaving him known as simply The Draug. Sailors and sea-folk the world over feared him and his half-a-boat as he sailed the 9 seas with only his misery for true company.
When this tale began the Draug was in a rare position all considered, he was being chased. Namely by two Pirate Monarchs and their personal flotillas. Pirate Queen Irma Haystack and her newly wedded husband and Pirate King in his own right Qwilory Thorn-Cutlass the Third had collectively decided to end their wedding festivities early to chase down a true legendary beast. They hadn't found a kraken or a leviathan, so they had settled for chasing down the Draug once they spotted him sail down the coastline of Chilvale.
He gave a sigh as he glanced back, this was not a simple sigh of the living. Oh no, this was the water-gurgling, soul-rending sigh of a man that had been dead for longer than most Kingdoms existed. A true sigh of such life weary despair that it would drive the most optimistic Poet into the oceanic depths of depression.
"I....might....as.....well....fight."
The Draug eventually decided that this was the best option at the end of the day as he noted how the pirate flotillas were closing in on him. With a slight twist using his will, the half-a-boat turned in the water to face the Pirates. Loud whooping and laughter was their response as they barreled down at him with their WHOLE ships.
His boat had once been a single and whole Schooner with two masts, what the vessel had been used for back before it was cut in half and served as the main mode of transportation for a millennia old undead, was unknown even to the Draug. But what was certain was that it had not been a warship. The Pirates on their end had a fleet mostly consisting of Galleys and they outnumbered the undead Sailor in every conceivable respect, men, women, ships, weapons, all that could be used in a naval battle.
It didn't matter to the Draug, a worm crawled out from a rotting fold of skin on his forehead as he prepared for the approaching ships. Mages rushed forth to the prows of their respective ships and began warping the sea with their sorcery. Hydromancers were standard to see on any well-to-do ship, and the double Monarchs unleashed theirs with ruthless efficiency.
A wall of water was sent rushing towards the Draug, he didn't move an inch as the wave approached his vessel and the Pirates were rendered slack-jawed as the rotting corpse of a boat passed through the wave without issue. For just a moment the Draug and his ship had been rendered incorporeal and passed through the wave like a spectre.
The moment of hesitation that followed was exploited by the Draug as his boat ended up in the middle of the cluster of ships. He was surrounded on all sides and his grinning skull and glowing eyes looked up to the much larger ships around him. A beckoning motion was made with his off-hand while his other hand pulled out a large fishing knife.
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"F-fire! Unleash hell on this undead prick!"
And with that order, the Pirates did unleash hell. Spells, arrows, bolts, rocks, flasks, and all sorts of projectiles rained down on the isolated undead Sailor. Walls of mist rose up around him and his boat like a cocoon and the projectiles passed into the mists never to be seen again. The barrage lasted for 10 seconds, then 20, and finally 30 seconds passed before it abated. Sound and sight alike had been muffled by the unnatural mists surrounding the Draug and once the barrage ended the mist spread out to cover the ships nearest him.
Shapes appeared in the mists, horrible shapes that made even the bravest of the Pirates quail like a spooked child. Frozen skulls, yellowing waterlogged faces, decaying hands reached out through the mists towards the terrified men and women. And then one outstretched hand touched a Pirate as he almost fell overboard due to his efforts to get away from the hand, with that act the illusion was broken and the undead tore themselves out of the mists.
Husband and Wife had a less than stellar ending to their nuptials as their floatillas were busy combating the Spectral Undead of the Mists, while their intended quarry sank beneath the waves with his boat relatively "intact". The protective mists had not been perfect in warding of the barrage that had been unleashed on his boat and he did not care to risk it more than he already had. His summons would keep the Pirates occupied long enough that he should be able to escape without issue.
"Tiresome.....so.....tiresome."
He rasped as his entire body was filled with water as he sank beneath the waves and he began journeying down towards the sea-floor.
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This is the story of a She-Leigh, she was the daughter of the Leigh Queen of a Grand City beneath the waves and beloved by all the people. At least until the people actually met her in person. To the world at large, she was famed for her beauty, her intellect, and her mastery of magics at such a young age. When her story started she was laying in her chambers in the royal palace of the Grand City of Almura and stared out over the domain of her mother.
Øryja was unhappy, no scratch that, she was outright displeased with recent events. Her mother had not only denied her to go with the rest of their House to the centennial Gathering of the Leigh, she had not even be allowed to partake in the coral circle revelry underneath the light of the crescent moon. No, she had been confined to her quarters just for having drowned yet another "half-elf" seeking out their ancestors on the waves. It was just...so unfair! How could she have known that the homely woman she had drowned was someone important? Important people should not fall for simple siren tricks. Granted Øryja like most sea-leigh could do everything a siren could but better, but still, it was not her fault she had just had fun by batting her eyelashes at the half-elven woman and making her come beneath the waves.
"Like my mother has never drowned any of the landfolk before, pfffffffffffft. What do you think Kaicelus?"
She rubbed her flat stomach with her 6 fingered hand as she waited to hear the answer from her etworms deep down in her intestines. Like all Leigh she enjoyed speaking to her etworm colony like they were a person and not just a collection of "parasites" in her guts. It was not as normal to name a colony, but it wasn't unheard of and royals did have their eccentricities. The vicissitudes of genius did carry a price after all, not that anyone would be foolish enough to describe what Øryja did in such terms to her face.
Her violet eyes gazed out through her window as she squirmed on her bed, the Grand City of Almura was splendid and twinkling in the artificial light shining down at the coral and plant-based structures. It was said that the Leigh of the land didn't build cities but lived in strange mounds of mud and danced in circles made out of stone and mushrooms rather than coral. It sounded barbaric to Øryja, but then again she had never understood the appeal of landfolk in general.
Sure, it was fun to tease those who lived on land by seducing them into sailing their ships onto skerries or allowing themselves to be pulled down beneath the waves. Hell, Øryja knew that a few of her sisters have had dalliances with some of them, but how anyone could care about such peons over time was just...inconceivable to the princess of Almura. Øryja could understand the appeal of playing with them, she herself had dove down beneath her station a few times. A century or so ago she had a lovely night with the daughter of a kelp Farmer in the lower districts of Almura...and then with her father a few years later while making both mother and daughter watch. But anything longer than a night or two? That was simply not worth the degradation.
Right now all of her friends were going to be dancing through and around the coral circle, and draw on the primordial power of the moon to power the ancient rituals of the leigh. And she had to stay in her room for what? 2 more years? Øryja glanced to the wall to see and yes there it read plain as day.
"High-Blooded Øryja is grounded for: 3 years and 2 months."
It had started out as a 5-year grounding so Øryja had spent almost 2 years in her chambers out of the 5, and it was soooo boring. She only had 3 slaves serving her needs in here and she hadn't slept with anyone...new! In a year, the chambermaids were barely worth the effort at this point. Her brother had stopped smuggling in people to entertain Øryja after he somehow figured out that she had managed to convince his favored boy toy to come along. Which was just a harmless prank in her opinion but he had decided to go ahead and take it personally.
"But...I don't have to be grounded do I. Or at least...I don't have to be grounded here. Another me could be grounded while I slip out just to see the revelry at least."
Øryja had been contemplating her situation for some time now and nothing actually forced her to stay in her chambers per say. With her mother traveling to the land above the waves to meet with the rest of the Highborn among the leigh and with the rest of the city occupied with the upcoming Moon Revelry. There should be nothing stopping her from slipping out and going for a casual swim. The pitiful "wards" that kept her confined were no obstacle to her. Øryja instinctively sneered as she thought of the sloppy work of her oldest brother Neistel. It was a disgrace that he had managed to keep his position as Court Mage after all of these centuries. Sure he was the oldest but he was nothing compared to her and Øryja was only 221 years old. When she was older she would be even greater than she already was now.
The only thing that had held her back from sneaking out previously was the presence of her mother, and that she had failed an escape attempt last time she was grounded and her mother had extended the punishment from 6 months to 3 years after Øryja had been brought back. But now she was gone and Øryja would be able to sneak out without any of her useless siblings or servants snitching on her.
So, Øryja casually slipped out through her window while effortlessly disabling the magic confining her to her chambers without as much as two minutes' worth of effort. Free! Finally, after so long Øryja was free to float through and above her city, she saw the eldritch glowing of the central coral ring and knew that the revelry was well under way.
Øryja decided that seeing the revelry was less interesting than going off on an adventure of some kind. Before she forgot to erase her tracks she conjured an illusion of herself sulking in bed and reactivated the confinement magic. It would be simple to sneak back in later and she didn't want to risk Neistel discovering just how easily she had tampered with his wards.
With that done she turned up and began ascending through the water past the artificial "sun" floating above Almura and into the dark void of the sea. What should she do first? Maybe go and find a merrow to play with, they always put up a good fight and while they were ugly Øryja could make them beautiful if only they let her. Or maybe she could swim up to see if there were any landfolk nearby? She hadn't drowned anyone in ages...except for that one half-elf, and it was not nearly as funny to drown them as humans. The way their eyes bulged as they desperately struggled once she made them realize what was happening, was truly delectable.
Her idle thoughts of petty amusements were interrupted as she felt a strange form of energy nearby. As a Witch she could sense strange powers, after all, she could even sense the presence of faith, unlike simple Mages. But this energy that she felt was wholly new to her, maybe it was worth investigating. With that decided Øryja started propelling herself through the water towards the coastline, just as a fish and a Fragment swam into the ocean for the first time. The closer she got to the strange energy signature the more excited Øryja got. Finally, something new to occupy her thoughts with.