ALL NOVEL 91 - A New Threat
The three groups converged on their way back to the northern district. Marché had made the sensible decision of pulling his thralls out of the fight as quickly as possible, whereas Drayya had decided to put up more of a fight, only retreating when she realised that victory was not a realistic goal.
“Potions… potions don’t do that to people.” When the three had conjoined into a singular force once more, Marché aired his grievances about his situation, “More to the point, why would anyone ever want that to happen to them?”
“Desperation. False hope. A need to do good in a world where perceived ‘evil’ is the only true path to salvation.” Drayya replied, “I can see it now - the glorious future of mankind heralded by Church alchemists. Alistair strives to rule over a kingdom of half-men, half-gods… but you are correct - a mere drought shouldn’t be able to accomplish that, and even if they could, there wouldn’t be nearly enough doses for an entire army.”
“The Mercuria…”
“Hm?” Drayya turned towards Lieze, “What did you say?”
“The Mercuria. I have a feeling it’s playing some part in this.” She explained, “It’s something like… the essence of the Gods - perhaps even their blood. It leaks from my regenerated arm whenever it’s wounded, and I can use it to empower my spells.”
“Mercuria…” Marché muttered, “Where would Alistair get a hold of that? Perhaps he sent a scout to harvest some of the blood you lost during our conquest of the northern district?”
“There wasn’t nearly enough to create all of those elixirs.” Lieze shook her head, “No… there must be some other way of harvesting it. All I know is that it has some connection to the Scions.”
The so-called ‘angels’ confirmed that theory with their titles under the scrutiny of Lieze’s abilities - [Artificial Scions], implying they were the result of some miracle of chemistry. Potions of Polymorphing weren’t impossible to brew, but they required extremely rare ingredients - too rare to conceivably arm hundreds of soldiers with a dose.
“They retained their intelligence, too… it almost seems too good to be true in hindsight…” Lieze thought, “Alistair is the antithesis to the Order. In place of seeking salvation through death, he instead pioneers the next stage of evolution… by transforming his followers into abstractions of their coveted ‘Heaven’...”
“What should we do, Lieze?” Marché asked, “Your father will want to hear of this - though I imagine it won’t be long before he finds out regardless.”
“Yes… we’ll need to implement some new strategies.” She agreed, “It’s time to experiment with [Necromantic Alchemy]. If Alistair is so keen to continue this fight, then we need to stay one step ahead of him.”
New Quest Received!
‘Sorcerous Legion’ - Create and arm 30 Dark Casters with magical foci
Reward - 3,000xp
New Quest Received!
‘Dark Resurrection’ - Create a new type of thrall
Reward - 3,300xp
“Is it wise to head back?” Drayya asked, “Bear in mind you attacked a high-ranking member of the Order barely 2 hours ago. Master Sokalar won’t be pleased about that.”
“No. He won’t.” Lieze agreed, “-But I plan to work that to our advantage. Let me handle my father’s incessant questioning. I’d like for the rest of you to begin creating some Dark Casters. 30 should do the trick.”
“We’ll need foci, in that case.” Drayya crossed her arms, “There should be some in the northern district. We’ll pilfer some magical supply shops and return with as many as we can possibly find.”
“I’ll be counting on you, then.” Lieze replied, “-And, if you do encounter any more of those ‘angels’, make sure to retreat immediately. We aren’t equipped to deal with them at the moment.”
“I know, I know… I should have given the order to retreat instead of putting up a fight.” She said, “We killed a good dozen of them, though. Contrary to their appearances, they’re far from invincible. I just wish they didn’t melt when they died… it gives me goosebumps…”
Lieze had seen it too - the way the Artificial Scions dissolved into slurry upon death. The process made them seem truly alien. They were specimens worth studying, if one could be retrieved alive.
New Quest Received!
‘Wailing Sentinels’ - Capture an Artificial Scion alive
Reward - 3,100xp
“I should really try to be more clear about my goals… it seems the scale gets excited whenever I express interest in doing something…” Lieze thought, “If I word my sentiments in a particular way, it may be possible to create quests for otherwise mundane tasks…”
“We’ll head towards the arcade, then. Plenty of windows to smash over there.” Marché raised his hand, giving the signal for his followers to break off from the main group down a side street, “Try not to enrage your father, Lieze. I may not be a Scion, but it’s clear from a passing glance that he’s just as powerful as the stories say.”
“Thank you for the warning, Marché…” She rolled her eyes, “Farewell for now.”
Clouds gathered over the eastern district upon Lieze’s return. One of the necromancers from the Order sprinted off to alert Sokalar of her arrival, and by the time she reached the gatehouse, her father was already waiting. The torn rags of fabric shrouding his emaciated form accomplished very little in the way of masking his undead vessel or the putrid rot-stink spilling from its rotting flesh.
“You’ve found a new body, father?” For the first time in over two decades, she was the first to begin the conversation, “The last one was practically skeletonised. I didn’t know it was necessary for you to switch vessels.”
“Even bones decay, given enough time.” He said, “I see you have subordinated Drayya. A rigorous task, and one that speaks of how pronounced your abilities have become. Graeme has reported you for insubordination. He did not deign to reveal to me the origin of his newfound disfigurement.”
“You mean the gaping hole in his cheek?” She asked, “I might have had something to do with that, yes. He may also have a number of second-degree burns in the throat region.”
“You admit to mutilating your senior?”
“He was in my way, so I dealt with him.” Lieze said, “I don’t have time to be wasting on the Order’s petty hierarchy. Graeme has spent his time here picking fights instead of plotting against the city. In the meantime, I’ve led an attacking force through the western district and unveiled Alistair’s plan to metamorphose his remaining troops into monstrous agents of war.”
“Explain.” Sokalar demanded.
Lieze relayed her findings to the Lich. There was no need to keep the Artificial Scions under wraps. She was rather interested in seeing what her father had to say about the situation.
“...Hm. This is an unprecedented development.” After a pause, he spoke, “I shall gather the others. There is a townhouse not far from the cemetery you have been occupying. We will meet there.”
“You don’t seem at all bothered that I attacked Graeme.” She noticed.
“There is no bother in disciplining a mutt which bites the hand of its betters.” He replied, “You have changed, Lieze - your actions so far have proven that much. One does not simply conquer half of a city through sheer luck.”
His words were approaching something deadly close to praise. Lieze had never received a word of praise in her life. She expected a compliment from her own father to fill her with glee, but there was no such elation in her heart. Rather, his words only served to irritate her. Sokalar had never loved her. The two of them were connected by blood and very little else.
“I have you to thank for this fate.” She said, “If my father hadn’t told me in no uncertain terms to march towards my death that day, then I would have never accomplished any of this. I’ve suffered at the mercy of the Gods for so long. My potential was always there, but the limitation of my cursed blood has always prevented me from realising it. Now I am ‘cursed’ no longer, and my destiny is in my own hands.”
“‘Limitation’ is an illusion. ‘Destiny’ is meaningless.” Sokalar replied, “You are the result of an abnormality - a product of meddling divinity. Your powers are unnatural. But that does not disqualify you from fulfilling your purpose.”
“No. I refuse to be anyone’s tool.” Lieze defied, “Not yours, and certainly not the Gods’. I desire something greater, and nothing will stop me from achieving that goal.”
“You have grown a tongue, but that does not legitimise your confidence.” He said, “Only those who have never been stung are tempted to poke the hornet’s nest. But in war, a volatile element is always welcome so long as it can be contained.”
“You’re making excuses.” Lieze accused, “If you’re going to kill me, then do it now.”
The air thickened with tension. The second of silence that passed between them felt like an eternity. If Sokalar decided to raise his hand against her, then Lieze would have no chance of survival. She had taken a gambit by inciting him to action.
But the decisive moment never arrived. Lieze’s heart surged with confidence as Sokalar’s levitating form faced away from her.
“We will discuss our next steps at the townhouse in 30 minutes.” He said, “Be present.”
She watched as he disappeared into the horde of thralls engorging the street, which began to shamble after the Lich. It was only then that Lieze realised she was holding her breath, and that her heart was beating faster than it ever had in her life.
She had never spoken to her father like that before. The unmistakable, looming threat of imminent death had always laced their interactions, but that was the first time she had ever mustered up the courage to defy her foundational servitude. The fact that she had survived the encounter placed her above any other necromancer in the Order in terms of privilege.
But beneath that fear in her heart was something more tantalising - an excitement sending bolts of electricity through her muscles. There had been no fat to her words. No reservations. She had spoken truthfully and with conviction. Not one word uttered from her mouth had been untrue.
“I’ve really done it now… I really went and said something like that to him…” She thought, “There’s no going back. Everything I’ve accomplished has been leading up to this moment.”
The horizon in her mind’s eye exploded, colours dancing like iridescent nacre muddied with the dreams of countless possibilities. She would need power. Allies. She would need to be cunning. She would need to defeat her father - a sorcerer of unimaginable power and immortality. But most importantly of all, she would need the scale and the power of the Scions.
“Alright…” Lieze patted her cheeks, “For now, I should return to the cemetery. Drayya and Marché will be returning with the foci soon. I’ll need them here if I want to have any influence during this townhouse meeting…”
She needed some time to enhance her army. Her [Necromantic Alchemy] ability was powerful, especially now that she had made the breakthrough of pioneering her own techniques and thralls. She would need a consistent method of overcoming the advantage of flight posed by the Artificial Scions - a problem she could begin solving once Drayya and Marché returned with the necessary implements.
As Lieze wandered towards the cemetery, her mind was abuzz with new possibilities.