“Hello to you too! Welcome to Solwick I suppose, the greatest city in the world! Just make sure you stick to my turf, or near the Arken’s I suppose. They’ve all got sticks up their ass, but they try their best. Oh, me? I’m just a crazy old lady trying to earn some good karma, hah! Now come on, I know all the best pubs here- a friendly face moving in is the perfect excuse to celebrate.” - An elderly gnome welcoming a dridder to the Solwick.
Tuesday Midmorning, Just North of the Abandoned District. Haruki Fane.
This place is miserable in all manner of ways. The reek of feces, and the scurry of vermin—both the minuscule rodents and the bipedal pests that believe themselves people. For the tenth time in as many minutes, I consider the benefits of releasing a plague or two; something elegant and thorough. An enlightened cousin to nature’s blind fumblings, tailored to purge this wretched place and leave it pristine.
But our noble house can make use of the wretched things. In order to craft artwork like the masterpiece that walks behind me, one requires flesh. And flesh that shall not be missed is perhaps the only resource this wretched, rotting place has in abundance. I consider it a kindness, a merciful freedom from the rotten stench of mold, rust and rot that permeates the air. After all, is it not the nature of all life to seek improvement? To reach beyond their station for power in whatever form they can grasp?
Masterpiece, walking silently behind me, certainly has more power than any of the cowering scavengers scraping by on scraps and desperation. Surely these vermin understand that? And yet, as I walk the streets they are deserted. Stopping for a moment, I turn to behold my creation and allow myself to revel in the beauty of it. White draconic scales, the regeneration of a troll and the strength to match; all of it moving with elvish elegance, graceful even when hunched over to avoid towering over its betters. Not a trace remains of the malformed, scarred human canvas upon which I painted something wondrous.
I resume my patrol, stepping carefully to avoid the filth piled up in the streets. It grunts and follows- a reflexive sound that I’ve yet to eliminate, not a word. It has no words, for it needs none- it’s a tool, not a person, and those who allow their tools to speak inevitably become attached to them. Perhaps that is what led to the fall of Esteemed Master Jindosh? Regardless, the tool doesn’t need to speak, only to understand orders. Its brain has been augmented for precisely that, after all. It watches, it protects, and when I give an order it obeys.
Rounding the corner into one of the diseased hearts of the district, I sneer at the sight. Normally it’s a contemptible sight, shoddily constructed shacks made of rotting wood and even shoddier cobblestone leaning against each other, inhabited by vermin dressed in tattered rags. Today however, it reeks of blood and viscera instead of feces and fear; the shelters have been torn apart, and blood soaks the ground- there are no bodies though. Sighing in frustration, I shout my indignation on the off chance that the culprit is still nearby.
“It is common courtesy to inform the family before testing a new tool! Thanks to your failure to follow basic procedures, I’m going to have to find another-” CRACK.
Suddenly Masterpiece is beside me, right arm outstretched and fist clenched; right in front of me, something grey and chitinous slams into the ground, spraying me with blood. In the next instant, Masterpiece slaps me in the chest, sending me flying across the alley to where I slam against a wall before falling to the floor, instantly covered in grime and filth.
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Sitting up, my vision blurs with pain, and possibly a concussion. Someone abandoned one of their experiments without even training it to fear House Fane! Although it is admittedly an impressively resilient piece of craftsmanship.
In the time it has taken me to sit up and begin channeling magic, it has pulled itself back together as Masterpiece stands between us in a defensive pose. The creature is all grey chitin, in a shape vaguely reminiscent of a praying mantis, with six clawed legs and two curved blade arms. Its eyes, with pupils of all shapes and sizes, are scattered haphazardly around its body, leaving the head empty of anything except an oversized maw with rows upon rows of serrated, hooked teeth. The entire creature is covered in thick layers of sloped chitin, and even as I watch four tentacles ending in dagger-like claws extend from its back.
“An inelegant, hideous design. Keep it occupied while I stop its heart.”
Trusting Masterpiece to handle the failed experiment, I ignore the pain as I continue to gather mana from the air, shaping the scaffold for biomancy. From there, it’s just a matter of applying specifics. A tether so it can relay information on the target's internals to me, a structure to make it track the heart by following the pressure differentials, and finally a protective shell to help it break through the creatures resistance. Then, infusing the spellframe with the necessary concepts such as death, rot and stillness. The entire process took a pitiful ten seconds, however considering my broken ribs and likely concussion I suppose I can give myself some leeway.
Raising my eyes to the ongoing battle in order to aim the spell, I’m disappointed to find that Masterpiece has utterly failed to pin the creature down. Instead, it’s exchanging blows with the creature, both moving too fast for an unaugmented mind to track. Fortunately my mind is sufficiently enhanced to follow the battle, and my spell moves fast enough to hit the creature, especially if it doesn’t evade it. And given that the spell is invisible, few creatures are even capable of detecting it. Seeing my chance as the creature is once more knocked to the ground by a powerful strike from Masterpiece, I trigger the spell.
It strikes the target unimpeded, piercing through the magical resistance of the soul to foreign magics as if it wasn’t there, and the spell gives me an image of the creature’s internals.
Three brains, four lungs, eight hearts, bone bracing, cartilage crumple zones. Simultaneously messily haphazard and evidently efficient- this creature must use more energy in an hour than Masterpiece does in a week.
Even as my spell tore began tearing apart hearts one by one, I witnessed it regrow them just as quickly. And yet… my spell was barely losing mana, as if the creature’s soul truly refused to resist it; and as it regenerated I saw its blood boiling as if the mere act of regeneration was producing an absurd heat. Therein I saw the path to victory.
All I need to do is stay behind Masterpiece and continue to bombard the creature with biomancy until it no longer has enough energy to regenerate. Then, I’ll take great pleasure dissecting it to see-
Pain.
The world is spinning again. It happened in the blink of an eye, but I’m fairly certain that the creature slipped past Masterpiece and leapt at me, slashing at me with a claw. I don’t feel anything, so Masterpiece must have knocked me out of the way again. I’m falling, but my arms won't move to catch me, and I land face-down on the dirty cobblestone, continuing to roll. Why don’t my ribs hurt any more?
Then the world settles, and I see it. The creature has returned to battling Masterpiece- but I don’t care. My vision begins to darken, tunneling in on the only thing that matters.
My body, headless, collapsed onto the ground like a discarded doll. My thoughts are tunneling like my vision, scrambling for an answer. I could… maybe if… its so cold… I could try… I can’t breathe… there has to be a way… I’m so tired… I’ll find an answer… after I just rest… for a moment…