Vaughn had bought his ticket for the cruise so he could stay hidden. He knew that hiding in crowds was one of the best ways to avoid being noticed. Vaughn walked out of the port and looked at the massive city and the crowds of people around him. He had never been to a place like this, it was only eight years ago that he even managed to leave the dead town he grew up in. He didn’t like it there but he admitted it was home to some pleasant memories. It’s also where he obtained the necromancy abilities that currently have many people after him.
It’s because of those very abilities that he chose to come here. Vaughn knew of a way to advance his powers and it lay in this city. While he was already powerful, he was still trying to get stronger. His magic was unfinished and can be developed further, this is one of the only places where he can fix that.
There was one person in the city who could help him find what he needed. Another necromancer by the name of Tsilo. He’s infamous for using his nearly undetectable necromantic creations to gather all sorts of information. He’ll tell you what he knows for a price. Normally finding such a man would be difficult in a city like this, but Tsilo isn’t hard to find for another necromancer.
Vaughn stood in an alley just outside the docks. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small undead creature. Necromancers are rather adept at sensing the presence of other necromancers. Vaughn had been lucky enough to spot one of Tsilo’s minions spying on him. A rat’s eye standing on a tripod of sinews tipped with teeth. Such a small thing one would easily mistake for an insect.
The construct lay lifeless in his gloved hand. He had killed it once he realized he was being watched. Vaughn could trace Tsilo with it, he could feel the pull of his command through it. The pull was to the west, so that's the way he went.
Vaughn was wearing his balaclava and coat, details regarding his appearance have not gotten very far. Vaughn was confident he could walk the streets like this in safety. Still, he puffed on his wand to keep the flame lit. Vaughn knows enough non-necromancy spells to defend himself without giving him away. Plus he always carries a more physical means of self defense just in case.
He walked through the city focusing only on the pull. He will have time for sightseeing later, right now he needed information before he could act. After a few hours of walking, he arrived at a restaurant. “Pozzi’s Midnight Kitchen” a franchise of establishments all across the world. Vaughn had eaten at one before and quickly understood why it became a franchise. Vaughn walked inside, he saw numerous people of all races enjoying the food. An orc waiter approaches Vaughn soon after he enters.
“I’m sorry, we’re rather full at the moment. It may be a while before we have a clear table for you.” she says.
“I’m not here to eat. I’m here to return something I found.” Vaughn said as he held out the small eye creature.
“Ah, I see. Give me a moment.” the orc said as she pulled out a small headset. “I have someone here to see you sir…. What’s your name?”
“Vaughn Sock-Buskin.” Vaughn said.
“He has…. What? Alright then.” She said before putting it away. “Go through that door and head to the left.”
“Thank you.” Vaughn said before walking away.
Vaughn passed through the restaurant, into an office, and then through a door. A staircase leading up brings him to another office, but one decorated more lavishly. Symbols of necromancy and screens cover the walls. Sitting at a large maple desk is an elf in a red coat wearing a mask of rosewood.
“Vaughn. I didn’t know you operated this far from Drissa! I certainly wasn’t expecting you to drop by. Please sit, I assume you have business with me.” Tsilo said as he motioned towards a chair in front of his desk.
“I’m here not to work. More to…. Broaden my horizons if you will.” Vaughn said as he sat down.
“Hmm. And does that have anything to do with the little one I sent to peep on you?” Tsilo asked.
“No, I merely used it to find you. Hit it with a simple de-animation spell. You can have it back.” Vaughn said as he put the limp construct on the desk.
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness. so what do you need to know?” Tsilo asked.
“There is a place here, a place forgotten by time but still buried under this city. The Forsworn Theater. I need to know where it is, or where anything from it might be.” Vaughn said.
“I’d wonder what anyone would want with a forsaken place like that. But I’ve been asked weirder things. So I will oblige. As long as you are willing to repay me for it.” Tsilo asked.
“While I am able to pay, I know you often ask for more than just coin.” Vaughn said.
“Correct, and you can guess what I want to know.” Tsilo asked.
“The secret to my power?” Vaughn asked.
“Yes, you’re a very controversial figure in the necromancy community my friend. I’ve been asked about your secret before by multiple people, haven't been able to determine much myself. So just give me…. 20% of the truth.” Tsilo asked.
“20%? You don’t want the whole thing?” Vaughn asked.
“I never lie to my customers, the moment I tell a single lie, my credibility goes out the window. It’s inevitable someone else will ask and I know you won’t part with the whole secret. So if I only know some of the truth, then I can satisfy them without giving your secrets away.” Tsilo said.
“I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting a fellow necromancer to be so willing to aid me. Most of the community regards me as a dangerous pest.” Vaughn said.
“You can bypass the core restriction of necromancy, of course people would have complicated feelings about you!” Tsilo said.
Necromancy has one unavoidable rule: you must have a dead body to resurrect. Most use animals or assemble bodies themselves with parts from whatever they can find. Getting a genuine human corpse is a whole legal process, the establishment of this process is one of the reasons necromancy was even made legal. One must legally own the remains and register them. Some people on their deathbed will put their bodies up for sale after their death on the condition that the money goes to their family. It’s cheaper than holding a funeral and there are no real ethical concerns since the person gives up their body willingly.
The reason Vaughn’s ability to ignore this rule is so controversial, is that it would change the rules necromancy abided by for decades prior. The legal process will be obsolete, the entire school of magic would be rewritten overnight. Many places are still trying to abolish necromancy’s legality, this would so easily push them towards it. Necromancers see Vaughn as a threat to their way of life and governments see Vaughn as a way for necromancers to gain massive amounts of power.
Vaughn knew letting the truth get out would cause far more harm than good. Luckily the true secret to his power is more than just knowing the right incantation or using the right materials. Even if the whole truth was out, the vast majority of necromancers likely couldn’t achieve it. Vaughn decided to give Tsilo his 20%.
“Let me describe it metaphorically. The you from yesterday, where is he?” Vaughn asked.
“Is he not sitting in this chair?” Tsilo asked.
“What about young Tsilo who grew up and went to learn necromancy, where are they?” Vaughn asked.
“Go on.” Tsilo said.
“And what about when you are a corpse in the ground? At what moment do you become him?” Vaughn asked.
“Normally I’d guess the moment I die, but I suspect you have a different answer.” Tsilo said.
“Would you say these are all different people, or the same one?” Vaughn asked.
“I was a very different elf as a boy, I’m no longer that person anymore. I could say the same about the current me in regards to my future corpse.” Tsilo said.
“Exactly. Now, where is the corpse of that former elf boy?” Vaughn asked.
“Is…. Is that what you resurrect? The echoes of people from the past?” Tsilo asked as he leaned closer to Vaughn.
“When I summon dear Sandau here-” Vaughn said as he puffed some smoke to the side and the hulking form of Sandau stepped out of it “I’m not using his real body, I've never seen his body! It’s buried somewhere in Jansid. What I’m summoning are the collective memories of a man who’s been long dead.”
“I’m…. trying to understand what you mean. Yet, I’m intrigued. So you are still using a corpse, just not a physical one!” Tsilo said.
“Yes. Does that settle your fee?” Vaughn asked as Sandau vanished.
“Absolutely. Though I do have one small follow up question. Do you know if anyone else has your power?” Tsilo asked.
“I was taught this by the only other one I know of. She died right before I became an adult. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter.” Vaughn said.
“Fascinating. Well then, you will have your information as we agreed.” Tsilo said as he opened a laptop on his desk.
Tsilo typed on it for a brief time as he browsed through what he knew. Vaughn knew if anyone in this city could find it, it would be him. Tsilo however, began to squint at the screen. Even through the mask, Vaughn could tell he was frustrated.
“Looks like your theater has a lot of conflicting information. I can’t determine a precise point. But you asked if there was anything that was from the place?” Tsilo asked.
“Yes. If I can just get something that came from it, I can find where it is on my own.” Vaughn said.
“Well let’s see…. There is a museum dedicated to the history of the city. One of the displays is a playbill from the theater. Though I can’t imagine they’ll let you take it.” Tsilo said.
“Nothing else?” Vaughn asked.
“Sorry. You know the story to that place, no one wants anything to do with it. Any other traces of it left are destroyed by now.” Tsilo said.
“Give me the address of that museum. This will have to do.” Vaughn said.
Tsilo scribbled the address on a sticky note and handed it to Vaughn. With their business concluded, Vaughn stood up, tipped his hat to Tsilo, and walked away. Tsilo Looked at one of his constructs sitting on a shelf. Another eye on a tripod of sinews and teeth. Tsilo had used it to record the whole conversation as he does whenever anyone comes to ask him for something.
Tsilo now knew more about Vaughn’s powers than anyone else but Vaughn himself. Tsilo wondered what he had to do in order to perform that unique act of necromancy. He can’t be using their souls, no magic can manipulate a soul. Tsilo wished he could know the whole truth, but he knew Vaughn would never reveal his secret willingly. Tsilo had no desire to know this power himself, but this is a dangerous secret to have. The more dangerous a secret is, the greater the lengths one will go to learn it. He’ll try to find the rest some other day, for now he will study what little he knows.
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“So who’s this guy we’re looking for?” Cyreen asked as they walk through an alleyway.
“Ginsyg. He’s a warlock I’m a patron to.” Lavor said.
“Wait. You’re a warlock patron?” Cyreen asks with a small chuckle.
“In the brief time I held the throne, someone did ask for me to become their patron. So I did the typical patron thing: gave them some rules to follow and a portion of my power on the condition that I get it back on their death.” Lavor said.
“Yeah, I’ve always wondered about that arrangement. What do the patrons even gain from it?” Cyreen asked.
“When we give it to them, the power is weak. Through the warlock’s own experience and practice they make it stronger. The power grows beyond what it was before and we get it back once they die, making us more powerful in return.” Lavor said.
“Ohhh! Now I get it. But why are we looking for this guy?” Cyreen asked.
“My enemies likely know about him. Aside from you, he’s probably one of the only mortal allies I have. Ginsyg is likely being held captive by them. If they were to kill him, then I would get the power he cultivated. But I haven’t, so he must still be alive.” Lavor said.
“Alright. So how can we find him?” Cyreen asked.
“There is an elf in this city who I believe can help us locate him.” Lavor said.
“Alright, but I’m not so good with elves. So you may have to do most of the talking.” Cyreen said.
“What’s the issue with them?” Lavor asked.
“Blame a bunch of racist elves for not being happy with my dad making me with a human.” Cyreen said.
“Understood, I’ll do the talking.” Lavor said.
Cyreen and Lavor were not heading to the restaurant. While they may not have a bounty on their heads, they do have a powerful enemy searching for them. Staying hidden is a priority for now. So instead they were searching for somewhere discrete. All they needed was a good spot to arrange contact with Tsilo.
Despite its advertisement as a perfect city, there are areas in it that are rather dilapidated. Remnants of the city it was before this new identity was adopted and began building itself up. Cyreen and Lavor were heading there now. They hoped to find some abandoned but intact buildings to make into a hideout.
Eventually they find a suitable spot inside a dilapidated gas station. Cyreen and Lavor carefully searched through the building to make sure no one else was there. The place is vacant, clearly no one has been here in a long time. Not even a sign of a squatter staying there. The back office has a pair of mostly intact chairs, they both walk in and close the door behind them. Lavor is a bit too big for his chair, but he makes due anyway as Cyreen weaves a spell between her hands.
While Tsilo prefers in-person meetings, he recognizes that not all can visit him in such a public space. Cyreen finishes the spell and a flat circular screen of greenish-yellow energy is floating in front of Lavor. All Tsilo has to do is accept the call. Fortunately he does and the energy soon clears to show Tsilo at his desk. Cyreen watches carefully from behind the screen.
“My oh my, is that the formerly esteemed Prince Lavor Finsikin? I heard you were dead.” Tsilo said as he leaned closer to the screen on his end.
“Rumors spread by my enemies to hide their hunt for me.” Lavor said.
“I thought it was strange how they seemed to be looking for a dead demon. They’ve been really scrambling ever since you somehow diluted your demonic presence. Used to be any demon could be tracked when they are out in the regular world. Yet you’re almost invisible to it. Had some demons come in here a few days ago asking if I knew anything about you. I didn’t then but I do now.” Tsilo said.
“I knew the risk that would come with revealing myself to you. But I need information. Where can I find the warlock named Ginsyg?” Lavor demanded.
“First, my payment. I understand you are on hard times right now and may have little to offer me. So how about this. Should you be reinstated as prince, I want one favor I can call in from you.” Tsilo asked.
“What kind of favor?” Lavor asked.
“I don’t have anything particular in mind. But it never hurts to have the demon prince owe you one. I’ll keep it reasonable when I do call it in.” Tsilo said.
“Fine, you’ll have your favor.” Lavor said.
“Wonderful!” Tsilo said with a single joyful clap before turning to his computer. “Looking for your warlock hmm? Well he’s been missing for a while, not long after you were deposed. Last one he was seen with was an imp named Morot.”
“Morot! That little shit is here!?” Lavor’s eyes glow red with anger as he slams his fists into the desk, Cyreen winced at the pain she knew that would cause. “Where is he?”
“He’s currently doing a job for this branch of the thieves guild. Robbing a local museum for some artifact. They came to me for details on the place not long ago, I imagine you can intercept them in the middle of the job. Here is the address they are hitting tonight.” Tsilo said as he scribbled the address on a sticky note and held it up for Lavor to read.
“Thank you. That will be all.” Lavor said as he calmed down.
“Look forward to seeing how this whole coup thing turns out.” Tsilo said before ending the spell.
Lavor grabbed a scrap of paper from the desk and used an intact pencil to copy down the address. Lavor was still getting used to writing with human hands so it took a minute. Cyreen looked around at the destroyed office as she waited for him to finish. Nothing worth stealing in here. Still, the place was vacant and intact enough where they might camp here for the night.
“So…. Who’s Morot?” Cyreen asked.
“A piece of shit I’ve regretted not killing my whole life. I knew him since the first day I crawled out of the spawning pits. He’s caused nothing but trouble. He’s the one who outed me to Deinia.” Lavor said as he continued to slowly write.
“Outed you to the one who stole your throne? What do you mean?” Cyreen asked.
“Demons do not have biological parents. When an angel dies, their soul is sent to become that of a demon. The opposite happens when a demon dies. Our bodies are spawned from the primordial magma of the Deepworld. Where we are then selected by an adult demon, it’s essentially adoption.” Lavor said as he finished writing down the address of the museum. “Look at the undersides of my wrists.” Lavor said.
Cyreen looked at her wrists and saw what looked like a tattoo to her. The alchemist symbol of brimstone painted onto the skin with a golden sheen. There was an identical one on the other wrist. Cyreen had noticed them not long after getting these arms but figured they were nothing more than a simple marking.
“Is it about these marks?” Cyreen asked.
“Any demon spawned with those marks is destined to be the prince of demons, they’re all naturals at leading so they’ve all been beneficial. There’s an actual law requiring it too. Since it’s said to be the result of the Demon Queen herself choosing a new ruler. Very few know about it since none had been born with them for ages. Someone who did know had taken notice of me and adopted me. I have been trained all my life to assume the throne.” Lavor began to say.
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He then talked about how Deinia was also seeking the throne. She too had been training for it. When the current prince retired and a new successor was needed, Lavor won by merit alone. He had not even tried to use his marks. Deinia was not angry, she was willing to wait until Lavor’s inexperience with actual leadership made him vulnerable to manipulation by her.
Deinia wasn’t expecting Lavor to actually have talent for it. She looked for a way to get him off the throne so she could have the power she coveted. However, she couldn’t find a way to do so without escalating to violence. She hired Morot to spy on him and uncover something she could use, all he could find was the marks on his wrists and their purpose.
If anyone ever realized Lavor’s natural leadership talent stemmed from the marks, then Deinia would never become princess. His rule would remind people of how easy the ones marked like him can lead all of demonkind. It’s a rule that only one demon with the markings can exist at a time. If Lavor was killed before he could do whatever the demon goddess wanted him to achieve, then another demon with the markings would spawn and be trained to take his place. Even if Deinia were to assume power while he was retired or when the replacement was being trained for it, being forced to give up her power wasn’t acceptable with her. So she caused the coup, accusing Lavor of a false crime hoping to lock him away forever.
“So you gave away your arms just to get revenge on her even if they’re your claim to the throne? I feel kinda bad about taking these now.” Cyreen asked.
“More like I’m loaning them. Thanks to these seals on your arms my demonic presence is reduced so I’m harder to track, also I can hold the holy flame and not have it kill me. Once she is dead and I get my throne back. I will need you to return those arms.” Lavor said.
“I hope Deepworld has a surgeon who can do it, because I don’t remember where that first guy said he was going.” Cyreen said.
“We should. Don’t worry though, I know your original arms are useless for magic. I’ll see to it that we find you a suitable replacement.” Lavor said.
“Thank you. While I wish I could have my normal arms back, I’d still very much like to do magic.” Cyreen said.
Lavor looked down at his bandage wrapped arms. He pushed the wrappings away on his left arm to reveal what was once Cyreen’s flesh, covered in scars and burns and with a rather sinister looking symbol almost carved into her flesh. It looked like an X inside a circle, written on the edge of the circle are various words in a language Lavor did not recognize. This is what is sealing her magic away, if she tries to cast a spell with this on she will feel a pain Cyreen describes as “Like someone pressing a red hot blade through your arm.” and the spell will be nearly useless.
“You still haven't told me how you got these.” Lavor asked.
“It happened right before we met. It was too new for me to really stand reliving that moment.” Cyreen said as she looked away from her former arm.
“You’re lucky I can’t use magic. Still, I’d like to know.” Lavor asked.
“Well, how about we just take a trip down Memory Lane instead?” Cyreen asked.
“Why does it sound like you aren't speaking metaphorically?” Lavor asked.
“Oh, you don’t know about Memory Lane? It’s freaky but useful. Also it saves me the trouble of having to explain it all to you. We have some time to kill, so let’s go.” Cyreen said as she began weaving a spell.
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A mechanic idly worked away at a car in his shop. Lying underneath as he checked and tuned up various parts. As far as he knew, he was alone in his shop. The truth is that something was making him think that.
Hictor sat at a workbench hastily assembling a gadget. Standing beside him is the same creature from the cruise ship interfering with the mechanic’s mind. The man working on the car will not perceive or remember Hictor and the creature. At most he will wonder why the workbench got so messy.
Hictor had abandoned his original idea for a handheld container and focus for the crystal. It was too easy for Hictor to lose, he needed it to be on him at all times. Finishing his gadget, Hictor installed the crystal and marveled at his invention. A sort of brace around his right arm hidden under his sleeve. Attached to it is a small but strong mechanism of sorts with a built in mount for the crystal. It holds the crystal in front of his hand and allows him to focus its energies safely. The gadget would retract into his sleeve for easy concealment as well.
Hictor needed only to try and use the crystal to truly know if this is the best way to focus its energies. Though he won’t do it there, best not to perform a complex summoning ritual inside an auto shop in the middle of the day. Too much of a chance he will be found. Hictor walked over to the back door of the shop and opened it. He turned towards the creature and waved his hand to dispel the summoned creature. It vanished into thin air as Hictor quickly ran out the door. The door shut and the mechanic slid out from under the car to glance at the door he thinks he heard shut before shrugging and going back under.
Hictor needed many things at that moment: shelter, food, water, to test his new gadget, and some money to buy some much needed medication. However, the first thing he should get before any of those is information. Hictor came to this city for no real particular reason. He was mostly hoping such a large place would make it harder for people to find him. Hictor was already rather paranoid before all of this so he knew he needed someone reliable. A person with whom he knew he could get good information from. He knew enough about the city to know of the one named Tsilo. On his way here he consulted one of his summons on his location and managed to determine where he was.
Hictor arrived at the restaurant, going through the back door just to be safe. The door was locked, Hictor was no stranger to locked doors though. He deployed the crystal and focused his magic into it, then the door unlocked and opened. Hictor had summoned a being that does not always like being seen and interacts with the corporeal world at its own discretion. Hictor walked up to the office as the unseen thing trailed behind him. When he got to the top, Tsilo looked at him with concern.
“Hictor Lindstrum. You know, you’re the last person I expected to see today.” Tsilo said.
“And why is that? Too strange for you?” Hictor said as he walked closer.
“That’s far enough. And no, I’m used to strange. I just got done talking to a demonic prince and he wasn’t nearly as shocking as you.” Tsilo said.
“Well then I’ll be quick. I need some information….” Hictor said standing halfway between the door and his desk.
“If you were literally anyone else in the world, I would cooperate.” Tsilo said.
“Don’t tell me you disagree with my work too?” Hictor asked.
“Quite the opposite. I’d normally love to hear all about it. But the simple fact is, you’re too dangerous to work with.” Tsilo said.
“You’re afraid of me killing you?” Hictor asked.
“No, it’s not that. When you came onto the magic scene with your little stunt back in Grinting, summoning that incomprehensible thing in the middle of the city, you became very well known for that.” Tsilo said.
“How could I not? But you’ve worked for worse people than me anyway.” Hictor said.
“You don’t get it. The minute, the exact minute! After that happened, bounties for your capture appeared everywhere. Every single bounty board in the world now had your face plastered on them in a mere instant.” Tsilo said.
“So what does that mean?” Hictor asked.
“Hictor, something is pissed off at you. Something that defies everything I know can exist in this world. I don’t know what it is but I know I’m not strong enough to face it. And if I help you, then I might be put in its sights too. So I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.” Tsilo said.
“Well…. I honestly can’t blame you.” Hictor said.
“I swear it’s nothing personal. But you’re involved with some scary shit and I want nothing to do with it.” Tsilo said.
“That is unfortunate. But I came here to know some vital information.” Hictor said as Tsilo suddenly felt a pair of invisible hands grasp the sides of his head. “And I can’t leave without it.”
Tsilo passed out as the invisible entity entered his mind, found what Hictor needed, and left. Hictor would have preferred to have Tsilo available to answer multiple questions throughout his stay here, but he clearly doesn’t want to cooperate. So Hictor had to settle for grabbing some info from him.
The invisible entity touched Hictor’s forehead and imbued him with the knowledge it had stolen from Tsilo. Every scrap of information he had on Hictor. Who he was, what he could do, what his motives were, who was after him, and who he had told any of this to. This information is gone from Tsilo’s mind, even the memories of their conversation. Hictor was sure Tsilo had this information backed up somewhere, but he had no time to look for it.
He had just found out that a band of bounty hunters had discovered Hictor’s plans to move to the city. A few days prior to Hictor arriving they had visited Tsilo for information on him. Hictor needed to change his strategy, he was becoming predictable. If those hunters could find him, then who knows what else could find him.
Hictor finished absorbing the knowledge and dismissed the invisible being. He quickly made his way out of the restaurant and towards the abandoned areas. He needed shelter, the clouds were looking like it was going to rain. Hictor hated getting caught in the rain, and just being soaked in general. He headed towards the run-down part of the city.
The gloriousness of the city shined in the afternoon light, yet this part of it was so grey. Hictor passed homeless folk of all types as he walked down the sidewalk. He examined the buildings as he passed, looking for one that was small enough where he could secure it yet also large enough where he could do his work and not get noticed by every bum walking by on the street. Being hard to find was how Hictor has survived this long since getting the crystal after all.
He passed by an abandoned gas station. Hictor could smell the stench of demonic energies, but there was something else mixed in as well. A magic unlike that which demons used. Hictor quickly moved along, deciding not to face whatever was inside.
Hictor wandered into an abandoned industrial park. He could see signs of people living in the various buildings as he passed. Trash littered around the windows or doors, clothes hanging up to dry, and makeshift doors to keep others out. Hictor could easily oust these people from their shelters, but that would draw attention. Plus Hictor wasn’t too keen on doing such things to innocent people.
One building caught his eye. The faded sign on the fence around it claimed it was once a place that manufactured medical prosthetics. There are other signs on the fence too, warning of a dangerous creature that had taken residence in there. Hictor looked through the fence and saw that there was little to no sign of a person living there. Though there were stray bones and faded bloodstains around a door that had been ripped off.
“No one will want to look in there.” Hictor said confidently as he climbed over the fence.
He heard something growl the moment he stepped foot on the other side of the fence. Hictor quickly focused his magic and drew out one of the things he had brought into this world. It was in the vague shape of a man, but it had been split from where the legs meet all the way to the neck, it floated with a pair of triangular wings that never flapped and generated what Hictor could only describe as the constant sound of an angel hissing. Its arms ended not in fingers, but in two long clubs. It did not move an inch of its body as it manifested into thin air and floated into the building.
Hictor heard the monster inside snarl at the strange thing. Then there was the sound of it yelping in pain, impacts against its flesh, and the sound of bones breaking. The thing floated out and looked at Hictor with four pairs of piercing green eyes. It’s toothless mouth opened and it mouthed a word yet didn’t utter a single sound. Hictor did not hear it, yet he has the memory of having just heard it, as if the sound of its voice had been edited out of his mind.
“It is done.” Hictor remembered the being saying.
Hictor waved his hand and the thing vanished in a flash of green light. He always disliked that one as it unnerved him in nearly every way. Yet he knew how good it is in a fight and kept it around just for situations like these. Hictor looked around to see if anyone saw him before walking inside.
The creature looked like a shaved panther combined with a lamprey, the whole thing was the size of a bear as well. “What a nasty thing.” Hictor said to himself. While he had never seen one in the flesh, he had heard of these creatures. He is also aware of the many health hazards inside this creature’s flesh. Hictor had hoped he could use it as a temporary food supply, but this thing simply won’t do.
Hictor held up a finger, just above the tip grew a small green stream of flame like a blowtorch. It’s a rather illegal spell developed by criminals to dispose of bodies. Hictor held the flame to the creature’s corpse and soon a glowing green scar was burned into its flesh. The edge of the wound was growing and in the middle was an ash shell of the beast. It will take a good while for the spell to work if the incoming rain does not extinguish it. The spell is guaranteed to burn it all into ash but it’s easily put out, so it’s not a good spell for combat. Hictor only learned the spell to get rid of trash cluttering up his lab back when he had a lab or any property to his name that was safe to sleep in.
The creature seemed to have nested inside the main workshop area. None of the equipment was left, leaving the large room looking rather empty. All there is in it are gnawed bones and animal filth. Hictor debated cleaning it up until he realized making it seem like there is still a beast living here might be a good idea in case any daredevils showed up.
There are a few doors leading to the rest of the building and they were all locked. Looked like the creature had no need to explore the rest of the building. The doors are old and Hictor could easily kick them down, but he felt that leaving them intact may be the best option. Thankfully for him, the hinges are on his side of the door.
Hictor pulled out a pocketknife and unfolded a small screwdriver from it. After unscrewing the door, Hictor moved it out of the way and explored the interior. The air was stale, clearly no one had been inside this place since it shut down. Some chairs, tables, desks, and shelves are still there. Almost everything had been cleared out prior. The five adjacent rooms had little else to offer him. Though what he only assumed was the break room did have a couch still inside. Rather dusty, but not moldy or torn. Hictor lifted his veil up and smelled the couch out of curiosity. The scent that assaulted his senses suddenly told him why the couch had been abandoned.
“Dear gods, I’ve been in sewers that smelled like less ass than that!” Hictor involuntarily said out loud.
Unfortunately for him, this was the closest thing he had to a bed right now. Hictor lifted up the cushions to try and see if the underside smelled any better. To his surprise, there was a fold-out bed underneath. While Hictor wondered why on earth a professional place such as this would put one of these couches in their break room, he decided to not look into this. When folded out, the bed smelled much better. All the scent was in the cushions from what he could gather. Hictor tossed them into the beast’s former den in case he needed something to burn later.
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Yara had walked off the ship still wearing Frances’s form. Just as she predicted, she was approached by a large man in the parking lot. “Frances” he said, “You said you were going to call when you docked” he said, “Where is the bribe money you promised us” he said. Yara realized this would explain the large amount of hidden money she found in her luggage.
“Ah yes, I’m still a bit seasick so I wandered off to find somewhere private to wretch. But I think being on dry land has solved it.” Yara said with Frances’s voice, putting on the best act she can.
“Do you have the money?” He asked.
“I do but I can’t give it to you here. I suspect someone was trailing me on that boat. We need to go somewhere private.” She said.
“Fine, get in my car. We’ll go on a drive.” he said.
Yara followed the man to the car despite the fact that she really didn’t want to. She wanted to just drop the disguise, interrogate them, and leave, but not with him in a place so public. She wanted to stay incognito for as long as she could. If bounty hunters and the authorities get wind that she’s in this city, then her job gets a whole lot harder.
The car in question is a rather stately sedan. There is someone else there, a burly orc sitting in the driver’s seat. Yara wondered what all the talk about bribe money was even about. Yara and the large man sit in the back seat before the orc drove out of the parking lot.
“Now, can you please hand-” the man began to say.
“Shut it! How do I know they haven’t bugged the car? These people are crafty, I can’t take any risks.” Yara said.
“Dammit, this was supposed to go smoother.” the man said.
“Well things don’t always work how you think. The more plans you make the more chances they have to go wrong.” Yara said.
If there was one thing Yara was good at besides magic, it was acting. She had spent much of her life perfecting this talent. While she hasn’t been in this exact situation before, she had been in similar ones. In the moments of quiet she was compiling many different excuses and diversions for her to tell the man, whatever he may ask.
The car drove to an apartment building. The man explained that one of the apartments is a safehouse, he alone controlled who goes in and out. Any possible intrusion is impossible without him knowing thanks to state of the art electronic and magic intrusion systems. Yara tried to hide her smile, she could use a place like that in this city. Her original plan was to squat in some abandoned gas station or something across town. Having a secure place inside the city was exactly what she needed.
The apartment building was certainly on the fancier side. Though she hasn't had much experience actually being in one, or even being in a city at all. They get out of the car and walk inside. After a nervous elevator ride up to the 6th floor and a short walk down the hall, they arrived at the safehouse. The large man pulled out a very complex looking key, the teeth are constantly moving and even the shape of the key is twisting in places. Yara heard of these, an enchanted lock and key that are perpetually changing shape but are always in sync. They are impossible to pick or forge a replacement key, if you don’t have the key your only hope is busting the door down. She wondered what kind of people were expected to stay in there.
The interior is not incredibly fancy, but definitely on the higher end of apartments. Yara’s two large escorts enter the room with her. The orc stood in front of her and the large man locked the door behind him. They clearly don’t trust her.
“Alright Frances, enough distractions. We’re totally secure in here, no one is going to spy on us. Now hand me the money.” the large man said.
“Alright, here you go.” Yara said as she reached into her pocket and pulled out the envelope, the large man quickly takes it.
“There, was that so hard?” He said as he opens it.
“For me it was.” Yara said.
“What?” The man asked.
Yara’s vision suddenly became ever so slightly blurred with rage as the disguise melted away. With one swift motion, Yara reached into her robe and pulled out her staff, returned it to full size as she swung behind her, and struck the orc right in the side of the head. The large man barely had time to react before she glared at him. A crystalline lattice of needles seemed to grow out of the floor into a thin spike that shot into the man’s thigh. More spires of latticed crystal grew around his other limbs to hold him in place.
He is groaning in pain from the spike in his thigh. Yara stood up straight and looked at the orc behind her. The side of his head is bleeding and he’s not moving. Yara put her hand on one of the spires holding the man in place, a small crystalline spike grows out beside her hand which she quickly breaks off.
“The fuck is this!?” the man shouted in pain.
Yara slaps the man across his face and then holds his head steady. “Your boss, Clarita D'Swunn! Where the hell is she!?”
“Who the hell are you!?” the man said.
“WHERE IS SHE!? GIVE ME A FUCKING LOCATION!” Yara demanded as she held up the spike ready to gouge out his eye.
“I don’t know I swear! The bribe money was supposed to go to some necromancer informant name Tsilo! We were trying to find out where she was so we could blackmail her! We’ve worked for her for years and I don’t even know what she looks like!” The man confessed to Yara.
“Blackmail her with what?” Yara asked.
“We did some dirty jobs for her! If any of this stuff got out she’d get arrested on the spot!” The man said.
Yara couldn’t decide if the man was brave or stupid. She wouldn’t be intimidated by that blackmail, she’d just have the man assassinated and the evidence buried. Just like she tried to do with her. The moment she is in any real trouble, she just vanishes before resurfacing somewhere else under a different name and a continent away.
This man’s blackmail material is useless to Yara. She already knew all the dirty little secrets they know. After all, she’s one of those secrets. The man’s usefulness was waning.
“Where is this Tsilo?” Yara asked.
“Waiting in the bathroom to enter dramatically.” Tsilo said.
Yara and the large man turned to see Tsilo standing in the open doorway to the bathroom. The large man was about to ask how he got in, but Yara decided that she had enough of him and drove the spike through his head. Tsilo didn’t react much to the murder committed in front of him. He kept his distance and Yara turned towards him.
“He had called for a private meeting in this saferoom. Normally I don’t do such a thing, but I currently don’t feel safe at my normal place of business thanks to a certain customer earlier today. I assume you are also interested in this information?” Tsilo said as he pulled out an envelope from his pocket.
“You want something in return for it?” Yara said.
“D’Swunn has been accused of directing many controversial projects. Evidence of it is hard to come by and any alleged informants always end up dead soon after they are found. But you don’t look like an informant. You look like…. A result of one of her projects.” Tsilo said.
Yara tore off her mask to reveal the features that would dispute her alleged humanity. “She made me into this, she forced this power into me and I will stop at nothing to see her pay for it!”
“You hate being a geomancer?” Tsilo asked.
“I don’t hate it, I enjoy this power. But the things she did to me to make me have it and the things she did to those who couldn’t…. She killed whoever I was and whoever I was going to grow up to be, in its place is this!” Yara said as she gestured to herself after putting her mask back on. “If I want any hope of a life where I can even consider it happy, she must die.”
“So what did she have done to you?” Tsilo asked.
Latticed spikes shoot out of the ground and walls and stop mere inches from Tsilo’s flesh. He was used to clients trying to intimidate him, but he could sense that Yara was not in the best state of mind at the moment. He remained calm but cautious of her. Yara put her mask back on and walked uncomfortably close to him.
“If you make me relive those memories, you’ll regret it for what little time you would have left.” Yara said as she looked into his eyes.
“I…. understand. Very well, you can have the information. Simply knowing that one of her results is out and about actively hunting her down is plenty good. From what little I know she’s doing.” Tsilo said as he handed her the envelope. “Now if you would be so kind as to withdraw these spikes so I may leave and hopefully never be involved with you again.”
Yara waved her staff, making the spikes retract back into the walls leaving no visible marks. Tsilo cautiously stepped around her and bid Yara farewell before quickly leaving the room. Yara looked back at the two behind her. She grabbed the broken spike and drove it into the neck of the orc to ensure his death. Now she only needs to get rid of the bodies and fend off any co-workers. Before she did any of that however, she opened the envelope and read the note inside.
“Her exact location escapes the eyes of my constructs. I was however able to find out one of the names she is currently using when interacting with the public, it will be found at this address. She is listed among the owners of the building.”
On the back of the note was an address, it’s on the other side of town. Yara wanted to head over there now, but she knew better. She needed to take care of these two, ensuring that no one comes looking for them. The man said he was the one in charge of this safehouse, no one else is able to access the security logs. So no one else should know what happened here.
Yara looked at the two dead men. She’s no stranger to disposing of bodies, she knew this won’t take long. Yara looked out a window over the shining city, she enjoyed having such a nice view. After all, she’s had a lot of bad in her life. She’ll take any nice that she can get.