I was possessing the body of my Mayor as I stood before the doorway of the laboratorium. I looked around suspiciously, making sure no one was watching me as I went inside.
Within the building were a bunch of stone slabs, bonesaws and super-sharp blades, as well as meat-hooks hanging from the ceiling and a vast organised shelf-system of every possible bone imaginable. Additionally, barrel-shaped vats full of strange gloopy soup store genetic samples that the Fleshcrafter had collected during his tenure in my town as the sole physician for my minions and their ails.
The man himself leant against one of the slabs that occupied the centre of the floor.
“I’m glad you decided to take me up on my offer,” he told me.
“You said you could make me a toad vessel, how could I possibly refuse!?”
“Quite right. And how prudent of you not to tell the chubby little boy about it.”
“He wouldn’t understand.”
The skinless Doctor nodded sagely. “My work is often frowned upon by those who fail to see the big picture.”
“So, what do you need me to bring you?”
“Oh, it’s rather simple, Toad. I only require you to bring me seven of your evolved Toadkin.”
“That’s odd,” Imu commented as we were watching the construction of my first Barrack in the southwest of my settlement.
“What is?” I replied, despite knowing exactly what he had noticed.
“Seven minions just all died at once.”
“There was probably just another rockslide in the Quarry,” I told him.
“Hmm, yeah… You know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the work conditions there.”
“Why?”
“Well, you said it yourself: it kills a lot of minions.”
“Minions die all the time, it’s nothing suspicious! Why are you so paranoid!?”
“I didn’t say it was suspicious. Rather, it seems disturbingly commonplace.”
Imu turned to look at where I hovered in the air.
“Are you hiding something from me?”
“I’m not deliberately killing my minions!”
“I think they would disagree. We just had our third worker riot two days ago…”
“It’s not my fault they’re lazy!”
“You know, I thought you’d warm up to your minions more, now that they’ve become some misbegotten toad species of humanoids, but it seems to only have made you more hateful of your unevolved minions… I said we wouldn’t need it, but I think it’s time…” Imu flung out his arms and an entry from my Crafting List appeared:
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
>Structures>Worship
—Minion Help Centre—
A place for minions to gather and share grievances about their working conditions and negotiate better treatment from their Core, as well as receiving the ability to call the Deathheim Inc. Minion Unionisation hotline for help in settling disputes and such with their Core
Required Materials: Wood & Stone
>Structures>Motivation
—Consultation Clinic (Workbench & Bakery)—
Unlocks the ability to evolve a cold-hearted minion into a Therapist and increases minion motivation in nearby structures
Required Materials: Stone, Timber, & Wrought Iron
“If we build these, will you get off my back!? You’re smothering me with all your unfounded paranoia!”
“Jeez, you’re really strung-out, Toady. But yes, I’ll give it a rest.”
“Fine!”
“…Fine.” He continued looking at me with narrowed eyes.
My deal with the Fleshcrafter came to fruition at the same time that my first Barrack, the Minion Help Centre, and the Consultation Clinic all were constructed.
Given that most causes of the lately-quite-frequent riots and worker rebellions came from the Diggers and Smithies, although the Builders were becoming a headache as well, I placed both of the minion-welfare buildings near the Quarry in the southern quadrant and evolved the pre-requisite Therapist for the Clinic. The cold-hearted minion was easy enough to find, given that a lot of mentally-unstable minions gathered near the Cattle Pen to observe the frog cattle as they were dragged to the Butchershop, while their brethren sang their mourning song.
I was once again using the Mayor’s body, when I reconvened with the Wicked Doctor at his laboratorium. When I entered the building again, there was a fresh coat of blood on most of the interior and the organ vats were brimming with new samples. In the centre of the room, between the slabs, stood my new vessel at nearly two-metres in height.
The body had four powerful legs, each with clawed webbed feet. The back was covered in tiny self-regenerating pods that could launch a bunch of rabid Gnasher Toads: a new kind of toad that the Fleshcrafter had invented, which had a body the size of one of my minions’ heads, powerful flensing teeth from some sort of wicked warm-water fish, and thorny bodies like that belonging to a Horned Lizard.
The body itself was like a toad carved from stone and given coiled powerful muscles and reinforced bones underneath its unbreakable epidermis. It had two large abyss-black eyes and a huge maw that could swallow a prey the size of a horse, not to mention a tongue that looked powerful enough to smash a hole through one of the stone walls that surrounded my town.
Name: Lord of Toads
Occupation: Unoccupied Soul Vessel
Species: Vessel (Soul)
Level: 0/????
Alignment: ????
Faction: ????
“It’s perfect.”
“What the fuck is that!?” Imu yelled in outrage as I hopped proudly down the main avenue of my northern quadrant, whilst possessing my new vessel.
I ignored his tirade as I took in all the sensations this vessel afforded me. I could feel the world around me, both the physical and metaphysical elements. I could sense touch and notice even the slightest vibrations that every single living being exuded around me. I could taste scents on the air and see the trails that left behind the many scents. I could feel and manipulate the pockets of ambient magic that seemed to float around my demesne as though pollen falling from my Core at the crown of the enormous Weeping Oak.
In short, it was everything I’d ever wanted from a body.
I felt ready to take on Earl Sharpee, Lady Light and her insane Church, Deathheim and his asinine Unions… I felt immortal!