Overlord: Rise of Istannice
Chapter One: Part One-
"I was looking everywhere in the palace for you..."
Luis turned his head from the mausoleum to see a blood red demon, horns, black as sin, curved upwards, wings folded on his back, hidden amidst the various folds of his pitch, tar like robes. Even with viper yellow eyes and a devious smirk, his face didn't move the slightest even as concern leaked from his voice.
"Sorry, Maxi. Wanted to see him. This will be the last chance we'll visit his... 'grave', and I just wanted to get the most out of it." Vehuel's halo bobbed slightly as he turned back around to the tomb.
They made it as Ancient Egyptian themed as they could, urns holding 'organs' lined its feet, vast piles of golden coins flanked massive statues and busts of the same material, and his animal headed NPCs were stony still, guarding their maker's electronic grave.
"We'll give a toast to him later, Lu." The demon reassured, "The whole gang is coming."
Luis grimaced, but his avatar couldn't show it, even if it did have a face. "Good. How's Roxy?"
"She's cursing the day she met me, but other than that, the hospital has her all good and covered. I'll be with her tomorrow morning. God, I'm nervous." An emote popped up over the demon's head, a face strained and a tense drop of sweat at the right of its 'scalp'.
"Eh, you'll be a good dad. Did you pick a name?"
"Noooo..." Maxi sounded strained. "Can't think of anything."
"Well, think quickly, before your wife names the brat something Norwegian." A laughing emote popped up over the angel's head.
"You're going to be an uncle, why don't you help?!"
"Uh-uh, I'm going to be the fun uncle, not the smart one. I'm worse than you with naming stuff."
"Aren't the little brothers supposed to be the more creative?"
"The older brother is supposed to be in charge, how are you doing with that?"
"Boys!" A woman yelled, and at the door, a human, armored in ancient Greek armor, blue robes and held a lance of polished steel so bright it looked like silver. "Quit arguing over the dead guy." Despite distinctive appearance of the player, there was a humorous, North American drawl to her words.
"Beth!" They both exclaimed joyfully. Maxi inquired "Did you hear anything from Ant?" It took three or so seconds for the words to be translated to English.
"Yeah, the furry should be here any second. I'm just worried with Vincent; he didn't sound all that enthusiastic when I sent him the invitation." A sad emote popped over her head.
"Well, he's a guild master in real life now, a law firm or something. If he doesn't come, we'll just email him our goodbyes." Luis stated, a shrugging figure popping over his head.
"Still... he could at least say goodbye to Jay-Jay." Beth's avatar moved to the grave. "You guys keep in touch with his family?"
"No." They both replied. "They didn't respond to my messages; they probably didn't want to open old wounds though." Maxi tried to reassure, but they all knew the rumors of how the areas around North Africa may have been attacked.
There was a pregnant silence in the mausoleum, a terrible realization of not only how they won't be able to pay respects to their friend and fellow guild founder, but they felt deep down that they would also drift apart in time without YGGDRASIL.
"Okay, let me know if you heard this joke; a demon, an angel, and a knock off Athena walk into a graveyard..." A man chuckled from the entrance of the mausoleum. The trio faced the newcomer, a golden minotaur, covered in violet armor and carrying a two headed axe.
"Seriously, Anthony?" Bethany toned sarcastically.
"What? We're griping over a buddy's digital freaking grave. A little self-awareness in this situation would show you how hilarious it is." The eight-foot bull man shrugged.
"Well, we got about seven minutes left... want to start now?"
"Sure." Maxi nodded, "Got a feeling Vincent isn't coming."
All four of them took out 'Wine-Ambrosia' from their inventory, their avatars holding up various goblets and tankards up towards the tomb, "To our friend, may he rest in peace." All four of them then unequipped and dropped the item from their character, the loot then appearing on the crypt as the icons seen in their menu and now floated and spun aimlessly over the encased shrine.
Anthony then immediately started laughing and proceeded into wheezing, "Oh God! I don't know what I expected!"
The two brothers began to laugh alongside him, not as hard mind you, but Bethany's avatar crossed her arms and an angry emote appeared over her head. "You're being rude!"
After they paid their respects, they started moving to the heart of their Guild-Base, the City Ever-Sweet, the Great Harbor-City; Istannice of the Sea. The palace was flanked by the three times three citadel-rookeries, at their bases, the various gryphons idled about, seeking enemies, while nearer the tops, angels of either red, blue or yellow hovered near their home sets of towers. The massive flying carpet they sped on denied them the splendor of the rest of the city, to contemplate how much time, resources and effort they and the other twenty-three guild members put into this place. How much love and passion was poured out into this collection of digital information? And knowing it all would just... vanish made Luis's heart sink to his bowels. He and Maxi put eight years of each other's lives, sharing the single virtual reality pod until Luis moved out and got his own.
Luis felt the dim, hollow pull of his left shoulder and saw Bethany, whom had a smile emote over her head.
"I hope I don't look like I'm brooding." Luis responded with an embarrassed emote.
"You're looking out of to the city, broodingly, and not saying anything. Also, broodingly. You can't get any broodier." Beth spoke.
"Well if the shoe fits..." Luis shrugged.
"Pucker up, buckeroo!" Anthony laughed, "Last time you see each other! Let's see if the censors are still working!"
The minotaur swung his palm down into Beth's rear end, where all four of them received a pop up. "Hey guys, I'm only seeing Japanese." Maxi laughed.
"Me too." Luis confirmed, "Guess they didn't translate EVERYTHING into Italian."
Bethany had a seething emote over her head. "Push the button on the right!" She commanded.
"Wait guys! I'm just kiddi-!" Anthony was cut off as his avatar suddenly vanished, and all three of them started roaring with laughter.
"That was too perfect!" Luis croaked between breaths, but his mood shifted slightly back into its melancholy as the carpet floated smoothly onto a levitating platform next to the palace.
"Well... end of the line!" Maxi gave a smile emote before walking off and the two others followed.
"If you want, we can try and scram these last three minutes and see if Nazerick is vacant! No one's managed to get in the last floor." Luis teased.
"No, not a chance in hell, no way." Beth deadpanned.
"C'mon, we may have gotten our asses handed to us, but it was fun!" Maxi gave a thumbs up.
"I'm half convinced that defeat was the reason Vin kept coming back less and less." Beth explained. "We got beat BAD."
Luis shrugged. "Yeah..."
The palace was an odd amalgamation of elements; at first inspection it looked like something taken out from One Thousand and One Arabian Nights, but the NPCs that guarded its entrances were sand elves, dressed in turbans with their pointed ears sticking out the sides, holding glaives, spears and scimitars, and black-iron dragons, twice the length of a man, crawled like geckos across its walls, deep red, burning eyes peering at the three as they reached the heart of the Gelded Guild's home.
The Earth-Heart's close proximity magnified its buffing stats across the three of them. The World-Item harvested from the corpse of the Midgard Serpent fed the city with power, and its buffs assured that while it was not as acutely and precisely defended as Nazerick, the Pandemonium, or the other Top Five Guild-Homes; it was nearly unassailable, the deeper their enemies came, the stronger and stronger the defenders became, where they could grow only weaker, and the one boast that Nazerick can always use is that not a single intruder reached the final level, unlike them. Not that anyone would try that when the city could ban them from trading, the only way they'd get higher tier gear or materials was to go harvest and make it themselves. Monopolies are wonderful like that.
At the bottom of the gargantuan, vine embedded, stony heart was a massive golden table, meant to hold Harshad-Twenty-Seven, the largest the Gilded ever became. Most were simple chairs for the majority humanoid players, two were open backed for the brothers Vehuel and Nasazel's wings, and three were large, one for the recently kicked guild member and the largest meant for a literal Giant. The farthest back, directly under the Earth-Heart, had several plush cushions and fawning harem girls of various races at its flanks for their guild master.
The three didn't take their seats, instead as they reached the base of the Earth-Heart, Maxi spoke, "Hey guys, I'm gunna leave."
Luis gave a sad emote, "Don't want to stick with us until the end?"
"This is a beginning, Lu." His brother gave a smiling emote back, "There are whole new worlds opening up for us. A door closes, three others are flung open."
Luis felt like lashing out at him for just abandoning them at the last second but bit his cheek and replied, "I guess."
"I'll see you, mom and dad when the baby's born?"
"Wouldn't miss it." Luis replied quickly, earnest in his desire to see his niece or nephew.
The demon-sorcerer, the great and terrible Nasazel, logged out for the last time, leaving the Greek goddess and the armored angel alone in contemplation.
"What will we do after this?" Luis sighed.
"Live. Get a hobby." Bethany smiled. "Let's get the rest of the gang in here." Walking towards Vehuel and presenting her spear, the World-Item, Gungnir. It always tickled Luis knowing a faux-Greek goddess used a Nordic artefact as her ultimate weapon.
He hesitated to take it only for a moment, but when it was in his hands, he turned to the doorway and ordered, "ASSEMBLE THE GREAT HOST!"
Within seconds, the palace's royal chamber filled with over a hundred NPCs from every corner and kind that inhabit Istannice; angels, demon, sand-elves, humans, beastmen, giants, golems, and gaudy, golden automatons filled the throne room to the brim. Luis thrust the spear up in salute, where the NPCs returned the gesture of respect with their model's various manners, humanoids bowed, beastmen rose their weapons and cheered the generic NPC noise, and the larger or more alien NPCs clacked, slammed chests with fists, splayed their wings and so on.
"Listen, I know you're enjoying yourself, and I just want to ask if-" Beth sent one half of the text by accident text, "well, if I emailed you and you wanted to see me on another game or something, would you mind?" The goddess shrugged.
Luis blinked and for a moment he forgot his avatar was expressionless, "Sure, absolutely!" The angel nodded. "What are you planning on going to next?"
"Maybe something science-fiction themed, mix things up a bit." A laughing emote appeared.
Luis quickly checked his clock and saw it was only a dozen seconds until midnight. "Sounds good!" He spoke both eager and anxiously.
"It'll be alright, sugar pie." Beth's avatar hugged Luis awkwardly, her arms and body going through and around the angel.
Luis quickly sent the 'hold hands?' Invite to his last remaining friend, whom quickly accepted, and their respective avatars lost control of their closest shared appendages and joined. "Here it comes!" He yelled out in electrified panic.
For a brief second, there was just black. Luis was expecting his pod to power down and be back in his parent's game room. Then he'd sneak down, bake that frozen pizza he stored in the fridge and head to bed. He had to prepare the restaurant for... something, maybe he'd wake up early and-
Luis opened his eyes.
"Huh..." He continued to see the Host. The palace remained... maybe he was premature? Luis turned to his left, "Beth you- what the-?!" He exclaimed in shock and horror. The woman was gone! Did she log out?! Luis looked down at his hands, tried to call up the console to log out manually, maybe it was just lagging or something before the shutdown got to the European areas.
"Um..." Luis tried getting the console again, "what..."
"Prince?"
"Eh?" Luis paused uncertainly. He hesitantly turned his head towards the one who approached him. It was Ozzydamandiuz's, or Vincent's, chief NPC, his 'daughter', Sheikh. Her dark skin, pointed ears, and lilac eyes were the only thing he could see of her, the rest were covered in dark robes laden with golden embroidery and runes.
"Seraph? Is everything alright?"
...
"Aaaahhhhhh!" The Angel cried out in terror.
The officers of the Host all gasped at the display.
"What the hell is happening?! God in heaven, help me! Jesus, Saints, Burning Bush, I don't ca-!" A dim orange aura flashed through Vehuel's vision and his calm returned promptly. "Hmmm... bring up the console..." The angel muttered lowly as he lifted a finger and it clicked nothing, wrangling together what he did and did not know as of now. He felt like he was floating inside his own body, the emotional one-eighty going through his mind feeling like it effected his body. Even as he tried to understand what was happening, a breeze wafted through the chamber, the smell of incense, burning fires and a briny, salty tang. He was engulfed in orange once more, as terror piqued due to the sudden overload of senses he was not meant to have in YGGDRASIL.
He had the sudden urge to lick his lips, feeling a dryness, and while an opening of his mouth could be felt, no tongue, no lips to lick, nose to scratch but he could still somehow smell. He didn't even blink when he consciously tried to.
A brief form of... claustrophobia? Would this be accurate? A sudden need to leave this unfamiliar case his mind was now trapped in and return to the one familiar, with a face, eyes that winked and lungs that... dear god, even his chest failed to rise when he tried to breath.
"Prince?" Shiehk asked again, a tinge of panic as she saw one of the Seven moving his head sharply from side to side.
Vehuel's wings gave a single beat, almost startled as his awareness returned. "Apologies, Minister. I was lost in thought." 'Was that my voice?!' The deep, almost booming rattle that didn't seem to come out of his throat or mouth but vibrated and shook from within his armor.
"For what reason was the Host called? Is there war?" The minister inquired.
"Emh…" Luis paused, 'They don't actually think I'm the Seraphim of Audacity, do they? But what happens when they find out I'm just some idiot in a headset?' Making a snap decision, he tried to think up something fancy and poetic, "Send a couple fast boats to see if everything's okay around the area!" 'That was the best you could do, you giant goddamn idiot?!'
"Should we light the Stronghold?"
"No. We don't know if-" The orange aura flared again, the idea of cowering in these halls suddenly sickening Vehuel. "Too premature, we don't know the situation outside the walls."
"Understood." She bowed, and her form turned to gold-dust which somehow floated away in a straight path out of the palace on the currents of the disorderly wind.
What was this effect he was experiencing?! Dread filled the angel to the brim at the idea he was sick or addled by some unseen- the aura appeared once more.
Vehuel nodded slowly, 'So it only happens during moments of intense fear?' Looking down at his hands, he flexed his fingers and locked them against his palms into fists. The warmth of blood stopping didn't come, and he looked to his side, spotting the spear Gungnir he dropped onto the polished floor in panic.
He steadily grasped and took it up. A warm radiance came from it and spilled into Vehuel, a sudden strength filled his chest and limbs and felt he could stand taller, straighter. Even with Gungnir's effects, his hands still shook with worry for Bethany, and he was surprised that his fear hadn't been affected by the emotional suppresser. As he was pondering this dilemma, he managed to glimpse out of the palace's entrance.
The night sky took from him his worry and concern, replacing all within the Angel-Player with wonder and awe. As if in a trance, he strode by the various dark elf guards that knelt in deference as he passed until he was finally outside.
The vision of the city, bustling and golden-burning against the starry, clear night struck a chord deep within Luis. He never truly understood the scope of how big this city was in YGGDRASIL. It spanned nearly five-hundred square kilometers, the city covering twelve islands, some artificially created with terraforming magic and dragged into position, others were collected when Istannice was teleported closer to land. Some two others, other than the mainland, at forty-five or so degrees out of his vision and some dozen kilometers apart, he stood on were visible, alight, chaotically scuttling with dignified purpose within each NPC as if it were like as the Gilded described the city's fluff, triremes pulling into his sight as they passed the over urbanized spots of land's engulfment of vision, torches burning along its dozen men tall hulls and humans on their surfaces performing their various maritime duties.
Of course, it would have been difficult to make half a million individual NPCs in YGGDRASSIL, but here, in this world that seemingly animated not only the NPCs every Harshad member put a great deal of effort and time into, but seemingly spawned the superfluous elements that couldn't even be applied and only mentioned.
Following the grace of the flames of torches, hearths and pits reflecting on the rippling waves of the sea; he saw the glimmer and divinity of the bare evening sky. The moon, its stars, the purple, yellow space-things he didn't have words for arching through them… he saw it all growing closer, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.
Luis felt like weeping at its perfect, unmolested beauty, and when he didn't, he touched a finger to his face, searching for wetness, only for the digit to feel nothing on its search, not the surety of solid matter for a visage. This sobered his mind like a drunk being tossed in a cold bath, and he quickly looked down on himself, seeing that he was no longer at the throat of the palace, nor even standing on the islands.
Somehow managing to float up into the air, over a hundred leagues off the surface of the world. A moment of panic beset Vehuel but as orange briefly lit his vision, that fear turned to fascination, realizing his wings lightly pounded to keep him aloft. He mentally smiled in exhilaration as he consciously made his newly discovered appendages to stop.
Then he began to fall.
Vehuel wasn't sure if the fear-suppressor was only temporary or if his mounting fear momentarily outstripped its ability to compensate, but its aura glowed in his periphery as if he was set alight, even as the terror thrilled him, as he grew closer, that thrill was replaced by certainty. Having reached such a monstrous speed with his minutes-long descent, he focused again on beating his wings, as hard as he could and regain control to where only gravity guided him. The contrast occurred, and he somehow flew even faster towards the watery surface, and when he tried to pull back in shock, then did he begin to stabilize his altitude. Now scanter distances from his city, he viewed it from the heavens in all its glory. The City Ever-sweet.
As he admired it all, he saw a shape coming towards him from the city, growing larger in its briefest seconds of approach until he recognized the being as Nothiel, one of the NPCs he made personally. The Archangel of Truth bowed when he found a comfortable distance between him and his maker. "My Prince." He stood straight, his robes fluttering even under his red-armor, but there was no face, only a void where his head and face should be in his hood. 'Never got how my brother found the angels in the Diablo series creepy until now.' "For what reason have you come here?"
'Okay, something… poetic, diviney… ya know, like a Seraph!' "To admire all of this glory… every corner of this world will have much the same in its beauty." Gesturing at the horizon with Gungnir. Which wasn't entirely untrue… he only got here because he was admiring a bit too much.
Nothiel looked at the direction vaguely, his stole fluttering wildly in the strong winds. "It is… aesthetically pleasing, my Prince."
"Please, just Vehuel." He opened a hand towards his creation. How long did Luis spend, wrestling on what to call his NPCs and how they would be like? He saw Nothiel, his 'firstborn', and saw the lines of background information of how amongst the trinity of Archangels he forged, Nothiel is the most distant, emotionally detached and logical, praising a landscape would be amongst the vices that he most definitely wouldn't understand. "For what reason do you come to ask for what reason have I left?"
The Nothiel's hooded head tilted at the Seraph in curiosity, "I was told you've been acting odd and wish to see if you're alright."
'Odd? We wouldn't have been able to have a conversation until less than an hour ago!' "It's many elements effecting my mood; I worry for Beth-, I mean, Percilia. She was with us when we came to this world."
"So, it is true; we have been taken to a new world of the World-Tree?"
"I don't think we are even upon the World-Tree, at least the one we knew." Vehuel looked down concernedly.
"Beyond the World-Tree?" A rise in his voice reflected his maker's own worry.
'Are there even other Players from YGGDRASIL? Would they be scattered among different plains like the Guilds were?' Luis thought, 'What even is here? How can-?' "My Prince…" A voice filled his head and momentarily startled him, making him beat his wings quickly, his large, metallic halo briefly confused where it was to hover over his head, and felt like a startled chicken but the orange effect returned his composure and he brought a finger to his ear.
'Must be a Message Spell from Shiehk.' "Report, Minister." Quickly turning away from Nothiel in embarrassment.
"Our Triremes have found unusual waters, unlike those of Midgard. The vessel lookouts spotted different landmasses, the closest being some thirty-two kilometers away, we have erected several defensive spells just in case other may monitor us and I so declare that Istannice is secure by most means other than World-Items."
"Very good, Shiehk Yarmin-Ejdar." Recalling a certain World-Item at the mention, "Assemble the rest of the Seven at Amun's crypt." Vehuel turned to Nothiel patiently hovering, "Follow me."
They descended towards the city, the Seraph unable but to be distracted of the various denizens going about their business then looking up, pointing at the pair of angels, smiling and exclaiming. Most were human, clad in toga-robes or armor but there also the occasional beastman, Hound-Folk predominantly but the sporadic Minotaur and Satyr were also seen in the scramble of Bethany's Graeci-human quarter.
As they descended to the Necropolis, Vehuel's mind raced at what he may encounter, not only how the Seven Ministers are now animated and seemingly alive, but a private hope that he would go to Jay's crypt and he could somehow be there waiting for him. He might not have been as level headed as Vincent, as single-minded as Beth or knew Luis like Maxi did, but he was a careful listener and sometimes said things which seemed so obvious when he spoke them, the friend he used to go to when he needed advice.
It was one thing to see the menagerie of the Seven all assembled around the false tomb of Jay, it was another to see the tomb-guards, mechanical and mummy-like emulations of the various gods of the mythology he loved with their human like bodies and animal heads waiting alongside them as guards, the thing that reactivated his fear-suppressor was see four goblets dropped near the coffin, red wine staining its top.
Regaining himself, Vehuel marched in and observed the party made as they briefly knelt, only for him to quickly respond, "Rise." There was Alaon, Minister of the Graeci. His dry skin was swarthy, and wrinkles pressed against his bones tightly and made him look as if he was carved from wood. Dark eyes complimented his long beard, and his brow loomed heavily on his face, giving a constant scowl. Despite the Graeci humans being buffed by the Earth-Heart and drinking from Fonts of Youth that Bethany liked to decorate around her NPC quarter, he gave no youthful exuberance of any kind at being here; honor, duty and loyalty to the Gilded fueling his actions. Armored in mithril reminiscent of the ancients from Greece and a golden mane atop his Corinthian helm, he held his spear fiercely, and in his other hand he held a shield nearly as large as he was and gave no hint of fatigue or discomfort.
Beside him stood a Houndfolk lady, Argos, long blonde hair graced her fair skin and her features would be lovely if not for a few pointed, wicked teeth that poked past her lips, a predatory burning-green intensity in her eyes that made Vehuel confused whether she was going to attack and eat him or was simply listening intently. Adorning her slim, athletic form were furs of foxes, wolves and bears, and at her left shoulder carried the head of a three-eyed, sharp toothed goat-creature, the 'Chimera' divine armor that Anthony created and used before his current set of armor. She rested both her hands on the pummel of the Battle-Axe, Taurox, the Murder-Supper, while it didn't have the sheer presence of size like Alaon's gear, looking at the obsidian, sheer-square axe-head filled Vehuel's mind with the countless characters it has gorged itself into, both feeding off of and fueling its wielder's bloodlust.
Opposing her on the otherside of the tomb, a horned humanoid reminiscent of Maxi's avatar, save the features of the face were ruined, jagged, sharp, with slits for a nose, lips were sliced and peeled back to show dagger-teeth lining the gums of his mouth, solid purple eyes slanted more vertically then horizaontally, and two horns came from the sides of its bald scalp like a pincer, and only highlighted his elongated neck protruding from a more or less pedestrian body. Aesham's thin, spindly fingers held his Great Lute, Gleaming-Hendrix, with a visible degree of delicacy, the instrument's white surface clashing against his attire's dark preistly demeanor of a demonic-bard, with a burning red gem at the center of his collar and his vestments dripped with phantom blood that seemingly evaporated when it touched the floor, a strange combination of traits from both the cleric and bard classes.
Alongside the demonic bard was a clash of theme, and Vehuel looked on with both pride and hesitancy at Rulthiel, the Archangel of Knowledge. He clashed against his siblings due to him wearing only robes of gilded, blue silk and unlike the others, was a wizard through and through, holding many scrolls in his satchel and various books and tomes were hooked to his attire with straps and buckles, the only article which impressed his militant abilities was the golden dagger, Lucifer's Razor, strapped to his hips and nearly buried in scrolls. 'Elegant and gauche both.' Vehuel thought.
At the angel's flank stood a tall birdman, armored from head to toe (talon?) with plaques of gold and rings of the same material covered Arus's arms, chest and legs, with a predominant beak covered in a shield of gemmed and enchanted platinum that contrasted both his blue eyes and tan-yellow feathers. In his hand he carried a massive double-headed halberd, crescent shaped axes of mithril only being disrupted in their shape but a sudden and garish spike-spears at their centers, cogs appeared to move in the small gaps between his limbs, body and small parts of his face.
Lastly, there stood a male sand-elf of handsome, sharp features, neck long silk like hair and seemed to always give a small grin that bordered on devious. Melkoth wore thick flowery-patterned fabrics of orange velvet in the bizarre amalgamation of the medieval Ottomans and the sheer, startling elements of the sand-Elves from YGGDRASSIL with their adornments of darker metals, emeralds and sapphires dangling from the edges of sleeves, elbows and silver earrings.
Shiehk was a welcome sight, but something looked different in her eyes as she approached. "The Seven are ready to hear your commands. What would you have of us?"
Vehuel was hesitant to answer, and when he decided what would be best, he announced, "Lift Amun's lid." They all looked at one another in uncertainty of defiling one of their Prince's tombs. "We buried him with a World-Item… and while I'm sorry about this, our need for it is unassailable." He had to bite the words off in chunks to withhold to his own disgust, gripping so tightly onto Gungnir that the World-Item strained.
"I shall stand by thee." Arus's voice was a mix between singsong and gloomy, "Come you here and aid us." The massive mechanical birdman pointed at Alaon whom nodded back, planting his spear in the stone at his feet before both strode to their closest side of the tomb, grabbed one of the bars alongside it, then quickly lifted the solid sandstone lid as if it were nothing.
There was no body. Several of his personal items, but nothing of the avatar itself existed. At the center of the small horde; a seemingly plain looking globe with a man carrying it upon his shoulder. Vehuel did his best not to disturb the pile of plated armor, mechanical gears and scrolls as he retrieved it, lifting it up by the man. He held it up to show the others, where he declared, "Behold the World-Item; Atlas!"
The globe began to turn, warping more into an egg shape, where Vehuel placed the small statue on the floor and saw it open up like a flower, its petals began to expand in all directions across the floor, its flat surface slowly crevicing into rivers, piquing into mountains, and bottoming into seas. Color soon flooded across it like a deluge, blues, greens, browns and stony greys, trees sprouted, waters flowed and then edifices of cities, towns and villages.
"This definitely isn't Midgard…" Rulthiel spoke lowly.
Vehuel pointed at a settlement with near two thousand souls, what the Atlas recognized as human and beastmen of several kindreds. "Ready a Bastion class vessel and load it with some of our lower grade goods from the stockroom closest and some eighty-thousand gold pieces as soon as possible." Vehuel ordered then raised his fist and declared, "The path before us shall be golden and honeyed!"
The Seven looked shocked at their Prince and declaring both the code of arms Guild and an order often spoken of from Ozzydamandadiuz; he was planning to open a trade route.
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As the ship was being readied, he ordered Shiehk to follow him into his private chambers to discuss the plans ahead. "My Prince, truly try and understand my hesitancy of allowing you to go galivanting off to strange lands with a ship filled to the brim with gold; what if there are pirates? Raiders? Sea Monsters of some kind the Atlas couldn't even classify?"
"Then you will Gate us all back here and the only thing we lose is a ship and some meager cargo." Vehuel reached into a cloudy nimbus and retrieved a bundle of red vials to place in a pack.
"Even if my reaction- wait…" Her gaze grew distant, then her pupils formed slits in anger as she demanded, "You're taking me with you?!"
Vehuel turned to the Minister, "Of course! Considering all the Ministers and Mayors of the Forty-Two wards, you're the only one with a sense of business and will advise me, for a time at least." He opened a set of doors and revealed his bedchamber, a massive floating bed, several angelic statues that held weapons and armor, and a grand opening to the pre-dawn sky, lit only by small orbs of light that clung to the walls.
Shiehk held up a hand and closed her eyes, "Before you continue further; I must do something."
Before he even gave her permission to do so; she started walking towards the room's side and gave a short though furious roar of anger and frustration before she headbutted the wall so hard that a crack formed that reached the ceiling and made one of the statues fall over. Walking back to the Seraph, who somehow felt sweat forming on his armored exterior, nonchalantly with a line of red blood flowing from her forehead, down her nose and clotting at the fabrics in front of her mouth. "You do understand I have never, nor even had I ever wanted to, escape from this city?"
Vehuel thought for a moment, before repeating, "Why not?"
"There… was no need. I am safe here, I know here best, I was born here, grew up here, and by whatever gods that can will fate into being, I would die here." Shiehk looked down as she explained it all, and while she seemed earnest, she sounded… afraid and sad all at the same time.
Luis felt a shiv of sorrow at this, and while he never outright said it to him or Maxi, he was told by other members of the Gilded that Vincent had a daughter at one point, and she may have been taken from their home or possibly an even worse event that involved her. Vincent may have written into her material that she wouldn't ever want to leave what she considered home, and her 'father', being the Guild-Master of a Trading League in YGGRASSIL, almost never left the palace due to all the work.
Vehuel took a step towards Shiehk and placed a hand on her shoulder, regaining her attention, "If you are adamant of staying home, I will not force you, but of the companions I would have at my side to see fate made into being, you will be at the top; every time."
Shiehk looked at him in the 'eyes' and gave a defeated sigh, "You're already a lousy salesman. I have no choice but to help."
"Excellent!" Ignoring the insult, he gave an unconsciously joyful beat of his wings. "Next, I must be seen in a more habitable light, does your father have any clothes I can borrow?"
She blinked confusedly at him, "Why… would you want my father's garb?"
"Actually, yes… you are right… I will have to see beforehand if it is necessary. Stand back, I don't know if this will happen the same way it did in YGGDRASIL." The angel planted the Gungnir, lifted his hands and proclaimed; "[His Feet, Part of Iron and Part of Clay!]" And was then engulfed in a pillar of light for several seconds, Shiehk held tightly to her raiment's to keep them in place as an unnatural wind beat her and all else nearby in its might.
As the light dissipated, what he saw in the Prince's place was no longer a looming angel of armor, resonance and light, but something more human and humble in its stature; skin a grey-white with odd and irregular streaks of the same color at different tones lined his face, chest and limbs, and as he pulled his arms back, two wings of a more feathered appearance similar to hawks, eagles and other birds. He seemed to be bald, no hair on his head nor face, and his eyes were dark outside of its burning amber irises. He seemed like to those reanimated undead, constructed of magically summoned and poorly imitated hollow-flesh, but this carried no tone of gentle, rotting meat or bone, instead being made of strong, cold marble or granite.
Shiehk gaped at the alieness of it; never seeing the Seraph of Audacity in this form nor understanding how he could take it in the first place. "M-My Prince?"
He reached up to his face and smiled as his fingers felt his nose, eyes and lips. He blinked away his distraction and replied, "Yes, Minister?"
"What is this? What have you done?"
"I am an Angel, a heteromorph! We of enough power and with enough points into the appropriate racial classes can transform with words of power. This one makes me more physical and allows me to interact with the world to a far greater degree, allowing me to equip more mundane items and minimizes my massive weakness to unholy and dark magic. At the cost of greatly reduced stats of my holy magical abilities and being able to be harmed by unenchanted items." The one time he did this in YGGDRASIL, it only showed as a passive buff/debuff, nothing of his avatar changed like this!
"I-I see… um…" Her eyes floated downwards before her gaze snapped back up and she shrilly declared, "I'll get papa's clothes now!" Before turning back into gold-dust and leaving out of the vacant ceiling.
Vehuel shrugged at this, turning to a nearby mirror and admired himself. "Hey! Not bad! Always wanted a six pack! I wonder if I stay in this form long enough that hair will grow?" Looking at himself, he had to make a good story for why he looks so different? How would he introduce himself?
He paused in terror, "What if another Player is out there and needs help?" Vehuel grimaced, then looked back at his wings, concentrated on concealing them and was glad to see them turn into a pair of long tails of cloth that reached both over his chest and down past his buttocks. Looking like Stole Vestments, he concluded that it only fitted the theme between him and his three Archangels. "Maybe… if my trades are successful and they spread inland, they can carry something recognizable? A sign that there is someone out here from the same place? Maybe…"
"My Prince, I have returned with garments." Shiehk declared as she reemerged holding a wooden chest. "Would any of these do?"
[][]
The Chief marched up to the frontline of the barricade, one of the band leaders quickly running up to him and exclaimed, "Warchief!" Bowing his head, making his ears flop.
"Give me the report, how much longer will these humans fester in the castle?"
"We've starved them for three days, the supplies they scraped together won't be able to last them another."
"Good… I can feel the Roble army breathing down our necks… we'll need to wrangle these humans fast and put them on the ships." The Chief tapped the ground with a cloven hoof.
"Heh, might as well stay. We can take them, three to one if need be." Smiled the bandmember, flashing sharpened teeth.
"We won't be able to get home by land, the wall between here and Abelion would stop us, and while we can take armies larger, we cannot do the same on the sea." The chief huffed out. "And we need ships to get home at all."
"Chief! Chief!" A fast running Satyr ran up to the Minotaur leader, "There's a weird boat at the beach!"
"What? What do you mean 'weird'?"
[]
"You should have taken the girls with you, is all I'm saying." Shiehk shrugged as she looked on her parchments, accounting for the ships inventory.
"I think bringing your father's uh harem women on board this ship would have been a bit unproductive." Vehuel began to explain as he patted down his odd, dark patterned vest and fluffy pants that stopped just under his knee.
"There were tw-, no, three reasons for their being; the first was a distraction. A lot of people doing deals can get easily sidetracked by their… attributes, make them mess up in a calculation or need reminders and allow you to sweeten the deal. The second, their numbers, devotion and diverse pallets of species gives the impression of experience, great wealth and worldliness, which is greatly sought after, and some may even defer to your opinion of exotic items that they are not familiar with. The third is uh… well the obvious." Shiehk waved the last point away. As she felt a rougher than usual rocking of the boat, she looked out a nearby window, seeing the dark waves of the sea and a barely illuminated morning sky. She gave a long, depressed sigh and looked back to the parchments in her hands.
Vahuel spotted this and smirked deviously, slowly creeped upon the minister while she was distracted. Stealthily reaching his hands slowly under her arms, fingers pointed towards her sleeves and then…
"Ah! HAHAHA! STOP STOP STOP!" Shiehk shrieked, throwing the papers to the air and wildly elbowing Vehuel in the face.
Despite the passive effect of being a Seraph, Walls of Jericho, these impacts really hurt, but it felt… unfilled, an almost hollow, distant or just the vague memory of pain. "You won't stop me that easily!" Vehuel declared and swung her down to the ground and continued his assault.
"SCHTOP GUNNA PEEEEEEeee~!" Shiehk started more violently then before, then her voice took a bashful pitch that made Vehuel stop and obverse what was wrong.
Somehow, his hands slipped in through her arm holes and feeling some odd lumps of warmth, he unconsciously squeezed and forced a low moan from his companion. "Hmm…" The Seraph said in an unusually composed tone, "Was always curious whether you were actually a woman under this…" But even as he continued his experimental molding, he looked down at her arms while the sleeves were pushed up, and instead of skin, he saw black scales and hardened ridges of cartilage that ran from her hand and up her arms.
A stream of smoke flowed from the face down Shiehk as she demanded in a tone that was epitome of threatening, "Get out of there before you lose your hands, angel…" With a damning calm that made Vehuel comply.
"S-sorry, all's fair in a tickle war." The Seraph shrugged and gave an awkward chuckle.
"What I'm going to do to when we return to Istannice will make you regret taking me with you." She threatened cheerfully. "I won't do it here, this is a very expensive ship."
Vehuel's cold sweat returned as he looked down at Shiehk. "Oh… that's…" Looking nervously to the side and scratching his chin. "Good?"
"Prince! Minister! We approach on land!" The captain of the ship, a Graeci covered in alchemically modified bronze armor along with a blue Cape of Waterwalking, opened the door and bowed.
"Good." Vehuel nodded, "Proceed."
"Aye, my Prince." And promptly left.
Vehuel gestured to the opening of the cabin, "Want to come with me? I'm curious to see how a Bastion does it."
Shiehk rose an eyebrow, "I doubt the crew would appreciate us getting in the way."
"I'm sure the boat is big enough for a couple tourists, come!" Vehuel opened his hand towards Shiehk and she begrudgingly grasped it with her gloved palm.
They marched carefully onto the deck just as the quinquereme began to slow from its cruising speed of twelves knots as it gained upon land. The crew on the top of the ship was engaged in their duties, running from one end of the deck to the other, going down ladders to the other four sections of the ship to give orders. The many Water-Elementals summoned to drive and guide the vessel were quickly forced back into their Conjurer's Boxes, the oars were retracted into the hull and the clicking and clacking of machinery filled the whole ship with rhythmic music, the hissing of steam and the turning of gears hummed their taxing screams as the Bastion sunk steadily and slowed quickly into the soft sands of the beach and met the dry shore that forced it to stop dead in its tracks.
"Oooo here it comes!" Vehuel started tapping on the Shiehk's shoulder and gave a frustrated scoff as they watched over the side of the deck.
Armored sections seamlessly conjoined at first sight, opened widely in twelves sections on each side, weakly reaching out as if it were some creature stretching its legs after a long rest. The 'legs' reminded Vehuel of crabs, long, scuttling limbs that ended in a sheer point, digging into the surface of the earth as it lifted itself to just be off its belly. Vehuel could see the mechanical bearings and clockwork from his vantage, burning white-hot metal pipes steaming as they give the massive beams and support rigs life, clashing starkly with the limbs that could be seen from the ground, piercing blocks of wood, electrum and barnacle plagued bronze.
"We have made land, sire." The captain approached the pair and announced.
"I see that, my friend! Now let us head further inland; barely a mile south-west of-"
"Captain!" One of the deck hands cried out, "Beastmen approach!"
"Arm ballistae, ready the marines and draw arrows!" The captain quickly ordered and drew a dart from his satchel, its edge glimmered a faint blue from the magic aura it was soaked in.
Vehuel's vision flashed orange in uncertainty but furrowed his brow and proceeded towards the front of the vessel to see what was happening.
There were over a hundred of them, arrayed chaotically in small bands spread across the Bastion's beach landing. Unless they had a one-hundred ten-foot tall ladder, siege tower or maybe a few magic-caster's specialized in mass teleportation or levitation; the Seraph doubted this band could even attack the ship. Many of the beastmen were gathered with their own kind, with Minotaurs in the front alongside Houndfolk with spears and blades, with Satyrs in the rear wielding bows, slings and lances.
"Ho! Bring out your leader! We need answers for this incursion!" A minotaur declared, raising a massive club over its head.
"I've seen bigger of his kind…" Vehuel whispered quietly, "Very well!"
Just as he was beginning to jump off the side, Shiehk grabbed his arm and spoke, "What are you doing?! You don't know how strong they are!"
"Unless one of them is the World-Champion in disguise, not much to worry about. Stay here, though, just in case I am as stupid as you think I am."
Shiehk gave a quiet huff of agreement and looked on as the Seraph fell downwards and, on his impact,, made a fairly sizable and remarkably malleable crater, cursing and muttering as he trudged out his feet, kicking up great swathes of sand as he climbed over the steep impact's sides. Wiping off more sand off his arms, "-gravity and all its damned frustrating nuances… what good is gravity anyway- ah hello!" Waving and smiling as he saw the Minotaur, gobsmacked, bamboozled and utterly befuddled of sanity from what he just witnessed along with his entourage. "First off; I must know! What are we uh 'incurring' on? My devices assumed this was just a multi-special settlement."
The minotaur forcibly closed his jaw and gave a strong breath of air through his nose. "A settlement only of force, outsider. You human?"
"I'm not sure anymore, to be perfectly honest." He looked down at his free hand and flexed his fingers into a fist, squeezing tightly and feeling only a withered, facsimile of blood warming in his digits and palm, Vehuel wasn't even sure if it was real or not, maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him, imitating what was to be expected. "Should be terrified what's been happening the last several hours, sometimes I was, but then… now I don't feel like how I used to… it's a tough thing to explain, but I shall only say… no. I don't think so." He looked back up at the minotaur, briefly disturbed by the confused expression it gave the angel and how real it was.
"Yeah… well, if you can survive that," Pointing at the top of the ship with his free hand, "I doubt I should get picky anyways. I am Hihgul, chief of the Bloodclaw Warband." He pointed towards his back with a thumb, "That's 'em by the way."
"They look formidable, you must be proud!" The angel smiled broadly, "I am Luis, Prince of Istannice, Seraph of Audacity, World-Defender Third-Place… um what else? Oh! Temporary Guild Leader of the Gilded, and uhhh… I think that's- no! Also, temporary Commander of Istannice and the City's Legion-Ten. That's pretty much it." He kept a hand to his chin as he searched for his titles, trying to sound impressive. It was a difficult thing to switch to the shoes Vincent wore in both a literal and metaphorical sense; he was usually the Gilded's representative for things like this, and if it wasn't Vin, it was Bethany, and if it wasn't Beth, it was Maxi. If it wasn't one of the three that founded the Guild, the event probably wasn't legitimately recognized. A frustrated gloom filled Luis's heart as he recalled how the others of the top Seven Gilded gave Luis the unofficial, if slightly understandable, title of the Guild's 'baby brother'. Now, he must go and play a prince, a leader and ruler in 'real life'?
"Oi! Didja hear me!?" Hihgul demanded impatiently as he received no response to his explanation.
Vehuel blinked, "Sorry, I was lost in thought!" He lifted both hands.
The minotaur huffed a chuckle and smiled, "Probably smarter than most of my boys already."
Vehuel grinned back, "That's not a bet I'm willing to take!"
"Ha! I like you, ya got a sense of humor!" He smiled widely at Vehuel before gesturing at the ship, "What are you guys doing here?"
Trying to remain serious, he forced his smile away and spoke, "We are looking for information, we are…" 'Damnit… I can't just say we were teleported to another world, but… the idea of lying… saying that he saw the commotion and wanted to know what was up seems repulsive… but… can't tell too much too quickly… vague, like Maxi would suggest!' "We're strangers to these new shores and wish to know who and what are further inland!"
"This place you hail from? Istannice, right? Never heard of it. Nor seen anything like your boat over here. How far away did you come?"
"Um… a few hours… that way, I think. I don't know, you'll have to ask the captain, don't know anything about sailing."
"Hm. Nothing that way but water only fish can drink."
"Not anymore! It's a wonderful place! An island wonderland! My City Ever-Sweet!"
"You a trader or something? 'Cause I'm starting to like what you're selling!"
Vehuel smiled, turned on his heal and pointed back towards the ships deck, "Ha-ha! Not so bad after all!" To a certain Minister. Spinning back around and continuing, around in a flash, he proclaimed, "Still, regardless of my intentions here, what are you and your band doing here? Where are the humans?"
"Yes. We've been a bit sloppy, and when we came here to round up some shore-sided targets, they spotted our ships and every village from the Wall to Hoburns ran and hid, over a thousand are holed up in that castle over there." Gesturing vaguely to the camp over his right shoulder to the camp a mile or so away. "I don't have enough men to risk a charge, even if the fort's walls are old and crumbling, they got hot tar, boulders and enough spears and arrows to make me worried, so we're starving 'em out." Scratching his mane of hair in exhausted capitulation, "But we may have to take the captives we already have and leave to the sea before one of the human armies come around."
Vehuel's demeanor no longer carried a tone of cheerfulness or welcome, his eyes were sown wide, his lips strained in a wry line and his hand gripped Gungnir in harsh, barely contained outrage. "You're slavers?"
"Ha! The humans here are lucky, most Minotaurs outside my kind's homeland simply eats them."
The orange aura flared in his vision, and Vehuel was overcome with hatred, the desire, no, need to slay this wicked creature and send his soul to whatever hellish afterlife he most certainly should be condemned to! 'No no no no no!' he yelled within himself, trying to reign in this bizarre, bottomless wrath, 'This weird effect not only makes me fearless but makes me angry?!'
Vehuel panted audibly, grabbing Gungnir with both hands and leant on it, trying to keep both the weapon and him grounded, away from lashing out. 'I don't want to kill anyone!' Seeing this minotaur, alive and conscious, not just a non-playable character in YGGDRASIL, as monstrous as his actions must be, must have a reason! There is a way to fix this, return him home! There is a…
"Ah, looks like you've been on that boat for too long. Say, I have a couple of human women that will need some looking after, and I'll give you and your sailors good prices! We need to lighten the load back home as much as possib-" Hihgul was silenced and took a step back in shock, looking down at his chest and saw the human plunging a spear in his chest. The minotaur barely felt it, and still didn't even as his life slipped away with the silence of his heart.
Vehuel didn't have the look Hihgul expected from this parlay betrayal. Smug he could understand a bit, and gods knowing, he would be condemning his face down to the afterlife and beyond for this dishonor. Angry, absolutely. Some people don't like slavery, regardless if its their own species or not. Most don't do anything about it. What Hihgul saw on the small creature was fear. He only started to smell the emotion when he fell to his side, and it only became worse when he heard his boys start to approach the prince in retribution. Vehuel's hands fought his arm's motions, reminding the beastman of a strained fishing line and the game hunters that struggled to pull the creatures fast out of the lake and wrest control of them onto dry land.
Whatever fish the princeling snagged; it was bigger than he was.
Vehuel cried out, "Stay away! Stay back!" He was earnest in his warnings, but they all fell on deaf ears and even through the fast and intensely bright aura flared, and what was left of his control was quickly dwindling, replaced with the urge to bathe in the deaths of these sinners, these evildoers, abhorrent creatures in the eyes of righteousness filling by the milliseconds, he still managed to keep himself from going forth and slaying them all.
As archers fired their missiles in quick succession, frustrated as they bounced harmlessly off his hide, before being shot down themselves by the archers on top of the massive ship, Houndfolk approached him with unnatural speed, pointing their spears at the grey-human that felled their leader. Their forms were perfected with years of vigorous training, honed through dozens of battles with humans, monsters and other beastmen, their strength; the pique of their specie's abilities and as the three struck at their enemy's front, left and right flanks, seeing the ends of their steel spears break and splinter against his iron like skin; they knew the vengeance they had attempted was futile, the desire to see this creature impaled and roasted over a fire, replaced by cold dread.
In an eyeblink, before any physical reaction could be committed after the trio's failed attack; two wings folded out from behind the creature's back, striking out against the Satyrs towards his sides while also slashing with his spear to the remaining one at his front. The leader of the pack, as he tumbled downwards, his lower half fall to the ground, blood quickly pooling and meeting his cheek as he drifted into oblivion.
Vehuel looked on at the terrified greeting party, the need to cling to his humanity only hanging by a thread, and while he may seem to be only standing stoically to his newly made adversaries, his vision was nearly blinded in the burning luster of the orange aura… 'Cannot… must not…' the realization that he could not fight the effect forever coming to his mind… the need to give in and allow this… element into his mind and soul too bewitching… too tempting…
So… Luis let go… and Vehuel declared, "You all will suffer the ultimate punishment!" He lifted a hand to the heavens and cried out, "「All Flesh is Grass」!"
The body of Vehuel started to burn out with a fire that first erupted from his mouth and eyes, and his ruined flesh began to fold into itself like thin, cheap parchment thrown into flame, the fiery shape of the man still remaining as the fold became smaller and smaller until it burst forth with a terrible light that blinded most of those beastmen closest, so severe was the illumination that the morning sun seemed as dark as dawn it had just recently escape.
Out forth, strode a being, towering at eight feet if not more, constructed solely of golden armor, a tabard of gleaming white from his groin to his knees, a floating halo as wide as his shoulders hovered a foot above him, between the middle of a pair of wings, sown of the fire he was forged from. "Nothiel, I call upon thee and three of thy soldiery! We shall cleanse this land of the profanity that affronts noble-Creation!" Four beams of red light shot from the sky and what fell on the ground were four others, angels to be sure, but none that the beastmen could recognize as those they've seen before, and none as imposing as the one that beckoned them to the battlefield. "Reduce the number of the beastmen army to a single, most wicked of their ranks! Redeem the others in sword and fire!"
In a silent compliance that was near defending against the affronting wails of mercy and desperate hatred of their near defenseless adversaries, the angels flew forward on wings of flame, holy magics of terrible might poured from their palms even while they cleave, carved and claimed countless other lives with their arming blades, short swords and spears.
The crew of the Bastion watched on both in awe and a kind of fear of how easily a handful of the angelic beings from the Seventh Legion began to cut down so many beings in so quick a time and without a single moment of hesitation. Shiehk herself was disquieted, a feeling of concern over Vehuel whom just moments before was unbecomingly jovial and warm, but now, she saw why he was on equal footing with the other Harshad, and most importantly, the other Princes. He was not the smartest, wisest, nor the most cunning, which his brothers and sisters had in spades and stars, but he was the fiercest, the strongest, and most martially adept. How can someone so oddly warm cut down dozens, change so drastically from kind to ruthless?
Shiehk gave a small flinch as he heard Vehuel bellow another warcry, point towards the poorly maintain castle some distance away with his bloody spear and order, "Onwards brothers!"
[]
Part 2 will be out soon. Real soon. Maybe even tomorrow. I had to split this one into two pieces so it can be more easily managed and read, and the second half needs some finer tuning. See ya then!