Chapter One: Part Two-
"Theo?" Evan groaned groggily, padding where his nephew was sleeping on the wall next to him. "Theodore?!" Quickly standing, his rusting plate armor chaffing anew against his barely clothed body.
The militiaman took off from the wall and ran from one side of the crude camp inside the crumbling walls of Castle Whiteshore to the other, crying out "Theo?! Where are ya?!" Fearing that the beastmen outside the castle had suddenly spawned fliers overnight and plucked him from his spot while they slept.
Evan was soaked in sweat by the time he returned to his little corner of the wall, in random happenstance rather than forethought or with a plan in mind, and saw an equally confused thirteen year old boy with red hair like his own, holding his spear and wearing his helmet.
"Where were you?" Theo questioned, grinning as he looked his uncle up and down.
"That's my question, punk!" Evan marched towards the slightly panicked Theo and quickly snatched the helmet from his head. "Gimme that!" Taking the spear from his hand, "Now, where were you!?"
Theo sighed, "Nowhere, I was just on the wall and all, you know how few men we-!"
"I swear, if your mother gets back and finds out that I let her only kid get eaten by beastmen, she'll have that damn doctor she's an apprentice of castrate me, fry my manhood and then feed it to me! I don't care if you're off taking a shit, you don't move without me at your side!" Pointing at his face sternly.
"You needed the sleep." Theo looked to the side ashamed and crossed his arms.
Evan clenched and unclenched his jaw, "How long were you up there?"
"Just four hours! The other militia and knights would more than able to-!"
"You know; I've never hit a kid, but you're making me think it's necessary. You." Placing his fist on Theo's chest, "Don't. Go. Anywhere. We could die tomorrow, or the day after that, but until then, we're gunna nap around in our own little safe, stony paradise as far away from the beastmen as possible. No buts, boy."
Theo looked so frustrated that he was near tears, "I have to do something! There's no food, no water, and if we're gunna die, at least I'll do it on my feet and not like some coward taking a nap in the castle's corner."
"Gods, no wonder my sister went abro-" Evan started to sigh before he choked on his breath when a pillar of light erupted off the castle's northside. "Holy-!" Without instructions, every man, woman and child found a hole to look through the wall, a portcullis or dared fate and climbed to the top of the walls to see what was happening. Not too far in the distance, something really got the attention of the beastmen, those who manned the barricades no longer willing to continue their duty, turning towards the light and rushing towards its source.
The mayor of a town some miles away with a name that neither uncle nor nephew could remember quickly declared, "This might be our chance! Get the horses ready!"
One of the knights, Ser Jannune from one of the southern province's cities, quickly marched up, "We don't know what the hell that is! This castle might be what'll protect us from something that could make that!" Pointing at the pillar with his gauntleted fist.
"You think that this pile of rocks will stop something as powerful as you think?! No! We are getting the women and children out while we can, if you want to stay in the castle please do so! More horses for them!"
"Fool! We stay!"
Evan's rolled his eyes at the debacle, this unshakeable tragedy between the northern and southern sides of his homeland playing out once more, dragging his gaze to the distance. Quite a few trees between where the castle was and the beach, and if he squinted, he could almost see something… his eyes widened in shock. "Gentlemen?"
"To hell with priority of resources, knight! You protect the citizens of this land from these creatures, as is your duty!"
"Why are reinforcements coming from the east…?" Evan whispered, "Uh guys?" A panicked tone leaked into his request, feeling the sudden urge to urinate at the encroaching sight.
"Dung eating moron! How can we know what's out there what kill you just by being in sight! Be a coward for the next day rather then see your people dead in the next five minutes!"
"Those aren't the ones we use… that means…" Evans turned to the castle and screamed in terror, "It's the fucking Slane!" Grabbing Theo and nearly tossing him towards the ladder, yelling in horror "Run! Everybody RUN!"
"How'd they deploy angels all the way here?!" "How many?!" "How fast will they get here?!" Were among the questions that came up. Evan wasn't sure on any case, but he knew for certain that if the Slane Theocracy could deploy their troops this deep without anyone notice; an invasion was right around the corner and the beastmen were now the least of their worries.
"You rode a horse before, right boy? Okay, you're getting uh on me with this one!"
"That's the knight's!"
"Then he can afford us borrowing it, now get on!" Lifting his nephew and dropping him on the ass end, before he swung his legs over and whipped the reigns when he was barely ready, bucking onto the small of his back and nearly knocking Theo off the damn beast. "Open the gate!" Evan ordered as they jumped over the crude camps and avoided the passersby. The guards, delirious from fatigue, thirst and hunger, complied immediately, but as the gate opened, Evan gave a surprised shriek as the angels, different from what Evan's seen before in the army, so close that when the big one locked its eyeless gaze on them, the horse cried out and reared so high that not only were its riders thrown off to the mired mud, the horse tumbled to its side in a fright, before trying to run the same direction they came from. "Close it, close it, close it!" Evan squawked to the guards, scooping up his nephew and following the now fear crazy mount deeper into the castle. "They're here!" The men still ontop of the wall quickly rushing to the opposing side of the castle.
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Vehuel looked down at the last of the beastmen in the area for the moment, a houndfolk male, maybe just over twenty. Brown of hair and blue of eye… probably had parents, a mate, siblings… why did he feel nothing? How many has he killed today and the only sensation that can even glimpse emotional discomfort is the simmering, fading rage he now feels in his chest, cooled now only in the blood of seemingly hundreds of people… he lifted his gaze to his free hand, gore dripped from his armor to the dry ground and felt… nothing. Then he felt angry at feeling nothing. Which was a confusing situation, to say the least. 'Is nothing human left in me?' Had Luis and him making this particular character, with its lines of backstory, somehow changed him when his… mind, soul, personality, whatever, came to this world? "I am Lawful Neutral…" Vehuel spoke aloud on an impulse as his mind trailed through a disturbing theory. 'My oath as a Paladin was the Oath of Conquest and was targeted specifically at characters with negative karma.' Maybe this somehow compelled Vehuel to act the way he did… a crusader… a creature of 'wicked righteousness', "Maxi… I need help…" Luis silently prayed to his brother of 'righteous wickedness', as he clenched his fist and brought it up to his face.
How could he stop this from happening again? What would it take to overcome this… influence? Breaking his oath? What would that even take, and what would be the result, how would it affect not only his personality but his other classes and skills?
"Seraph…" Nothiel approached from Vehuel's right and humbly attempted to gain his mentor's attention, "… we bring you the one you asked, a most evil creature awaits your judgement."
The Seraph faced the archangel, whom in turn gestured to his own angels, floating gently over the ground, each carrying the Satyr with a single limb, the woman facing downwards, hiding her features.
Setting the beastman down on the earth, Vehuel looked between the prisoner and the nearby castle, uncertain of what was the truest priority: ensuring that the humans are alright or placating the aura from effecting him again. The people knew he was here, and definitely saw his intent with the beastmen, and was fearful he may have stained their first encounter with these people before they even met, but the thought of trying to understand how the other angels identified this being in particular nagged him, and Vehuel chanted, looking at the Beastman as she started to push herself off the ground, "「Detect Good and Evil」" And his vision was filled with a menagerie of colors, curves and a kind of depth of understanding at a simple glimpse that seemed to pry forth into his gaze the ethics and mannerisms of everyone and thing he could glimpse with the naked eye.
The Satyr was kneeling and panting, eyes glazed in dazed bewilderment followed by a horrified stillness as she looked up and saw five angels surrounding her. "Am I… dead?" She asked, looking to the ground in a depressed serenity.
"Soon." Nothiel stated simply, placing his arming sword, Ringil, gently on her exposed neck. "With your leave, my prince?" It's single edged was tinged a crimson hue so deep, Vehuel was uncertain if its silvery sheen would ever return.
Vehuel shook his head, "Not yet." taking a finger and lifting her chin, having to stoop in order to do so due to his massive height. The satyr closed her eyes, tears welling their corners and she barely stifled her sobs. "What is your name?"
"Aliyth." She mumbled from clenched teeth.
"Your garb… you are a magic-user, yes? How long have you been enslaving these lands and beyond?"
"T-Ten years."
"Do you know how many have suffered and continue to suffer from your choices?"
Aliyth's brow was forcedly furrowed in anger as she finally managed to open her eyes. She gave a sharp intake of breath before she spat at the angel's helm and said, "Not enough. And more will when our ships come back!"
Vehuel had to look away for a moment to settle his momentary anger, snapping his gaze back to the Satyr. "「Command」!" The angel extended his palm, a glyph briefly appearing.
Aliyth's defiant gaze snapped into panic as her body ceased in its voluntary functions and he continued with, "「Make no hostile action nor attempt escape」!"
The Satyr numbly nodded before Vehuel looked to the other angels, "Go to the vessel at the beach, tell them of our victory and to prepare the ship to take on the humans, and take the prisoner with you."
Nothiel watched as the lesser angels bowed slightly, took the beastman under her arms and began to fly towards the shore, and when they were comfortably far away, walked a pace towards Vehuel, "Prince, why take a prisoner? Surely she will prove uncooperative with whatever you intend."
Luis felt a tinge of shame for what he had planned, "Haoma-Dannoto."
If Nothiel had had eyes, he would have stared at Vehuel with horror, "You intend to feed her to the Hell-Tree?"
"It would extract her XP- I mean, her experiences, and we may learn more about this… odd assortment of beastmen from the Mortal Fruit grown from her." The World-Item was nestled in Maxi's personal area, right under the palace, and hadn't been used since Ozzydamandiuz stopped coming to lead the guild, harvesting enemy NPCs to improve their own. Vehuel remembered how the tree absorbed the experiences and memories of its victims in its fluff, and it can impress on those that eat its fruit. Hopefully, with this New World and all it has changed with Istannice and its populace, it will be a bit more literal and give him some answers.
"Um, Prince? Are you alright?"
Vehuel peaked at him past his fingers, "Son, please return to your brothers at the ship. Take this to the Minister." Presenting Gungnir, Nothiel's red robes fluttered as he quickly bowed at the waist as he took it and flew to rejoin his angelic siblings. The Seraph turned towards the castle and called out, "Vanniel, I call upon thee!"
A beam of light struck out of the sky in front of Vehuel, and out walked an angel that was shorter then any in the legion, being only six feet, the angel was draped in a yellow mantle over silvery armor curving subtletly over what were to be mammaries and a slimmer waist. "My Prince!" Vanniel placed a fist on the center of her chest. "How may I serve?"
"There's a lot of scared humans in that castle, Archangel of Compassion." Vehuel pointed to the castle, "We need to get them to safety and time is short to gain their trust."
Vanniel gave a quick nod before she chanted,"「His Feet, Part of Iron, Part of Clay」"
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"God, four leave, then one comes back…" The knight sighed, placing his hand against the castle's wall. "I've never seen angels actually talking to one another… are you sure they're under Slane control?"
Evan stared at the newcomer, "Never seen a woman either."
The men blinked and refocused their gaze at the angel only to be blinded by brief, intense flame that exploded out of the intruder.
After the fire's luminescence died down, the onlookers peeked over the stoney edges of the castle and gasped at the sight of the completely bald, nude woman whom had sprung wings from her back. "Hey, look away kid!" Evan tried to cover Theo's face, but was too distracted in his own observations that he failed block his nephew's. The angel-woman spoke a spell and was soon covered in heavy yellow robes of that hid her modesty, sobering the on lookers some, especially as the pair began to walk towards the castle.
"What should we do?" The mayor asked the knight, surprising the later with his deference towards him.
"Prepare for the worse, get the women and children out through the back with what ever that can get them safely over and… what's that peasant doing?!" He exclaimed and pointed as Evan began to tip over the cauldron of tar.
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"Alright…" Vehuel commented plainly, "How do you want to do this?"
"What do you mean, father?" The archangel turned her head slightly, but her expression didn't change in the least.
'Maybe they don't know how to do facial expressions… maybe I should make my angels attain human form more often to teach them.' "Yes, a test my child. What would be the-?" Vehuel looked up at the top of the gate as he was doused in a considerable amount of searing black, smelly tar. He was frozen in his position, Vehuel's minds having difficulty wrapping around what exactly just happened and how to react.
Vanniel's mouth was agape with worry, 'Is this a part of father's test?' But as she saw the sticky tar begin to re-liquify and bubble and boil off the Seraph's growing rage, she concluded it wasn't. "F-father, be calm, they are merely mortals, they do not know what they-"
Vehuel gave an angered cry, his form briefly burning with a red luminance, before leaping off the ground, flying over the gate and swooping down to throttle the one at the tar-bucket and lifting him up with his burning grasp for all to see. Still coated in flecks of dry tar, he inched the terrified humans face close to his own and demanded, "WHY THIS OFFENCE, HUMAN?!" And a not a moment later he 'sighed', which partially unnerved Evan, as it sent a tremor through his body though the angel's arm. "I am not here to harm you, if I was, that tar nor your crumbling walls wouldn't have stopped me." The massive digits that dug into the man's flesh cooled, but only slightly. Grabbing him under the shoulder's, Vehuel descended quickly towards the inner areas of the castle, noting Vanniel was already talking with several of their numbers, despite the spears and bows pointed her way.
"W-where did… who are you angels?" The human hesitantly inquired.
Vehuel thought of answering but remained silent as they neared the ground.
"You guys definitely aren't Slane, I can see th-"
"Be silent and I will be less inclined to drop you." Vehuel warned lowly. While the human believed him, the seraph was confident that unless his quarry started speaking his life story at near light speed, he wouldn't have dropped him. It's odd, how he did indeed desired to threaten the man to silence, but his thoughts were repulsed by outright lies.
As the pair met the ground and the human quickly returned to his kind, a boy-man rushing to his side. 'A son? Brother?' Vehuel could have killed him for his insult but the fact of this revelation didn't seem to disturb him.
"Seraph…" Vanniel respectfully inclined her head as she explained, "These humans wish to know of our allegiances, they believe us to be a beastmen trick." Gesturing to a colorfully dressed, plump man with a scraggily, graying brown beard and an armored man a head and half taller then the former and half as young.
"Our allegiances? Hmph." The seraph shook his head, "We know of no others besides ourselves, we are strangers to these lands. In fact, we came here for information in this regard."
"Then why attack the beastmen?" The knight asked. "They clearly weren't a threat to you, considering the masses of bodies your made."
"I detest slavers." Vehuel stared straight at the knight, "Getting rid of them was vermin control, nothing more. Now, in exchange for saving you and taking you on my vessel to wherever you need to go in order to be safe; who in the Seven Circles of Hell are you, what country is this and why are there beastmen preying upon you?" Vehuel gestured to Vanniel, "And she is by far a superior talker then I, so while you two are talking…" A blue glyph appeared on his free hand, "「Create: Food and Water」!" Three large barrels of water alongside boxes of bread and cooked but unseasoned vegetables. "I'll provide you with what nourishment your kind require."
Over maybe a half hour, Vehuel did his duty as the most boring, if useful, conjurer on this side of this new world, roaming the filthy and desperate camp and occasionally plopped down more food and water, what guards that were around quickly took positions next to these locations, ensuring that the supplies were evenly distributed, while Vanniel did her duties as Archangel of Compassion and by the time the Seraph made a full circle back to the angel and the human leaders, Vanniel carried a small smile as she greeted her maker, "All is agreed upon."
The mayor looked withdrawn, as the knight explained; "We will take up your offer to use your ship, we'll follow the coast southwest and then continue south to the city of Rimun."
He nodded towards Vanniel, before speaking, "We must make haste, gather your people as fast as you can and head-"
"Prince!" Shiehk messaged him.
The seraph withheld his spastic impulse to react wildly to the sudden voice, "Excuse me." He offered to the crowd before turning and walking away several paces, placing a finger to his 'ear' and asked, "What is it Minister?"
"Three vessels have been spotted climbing down the coast, if we have to evacuate people, we need to start now or we'll not have enough time to reach the water and flee."
Vehuel returned to the group and stated, "Change of plans; we leave now, take only what you need, a number of ships have been spotted, we must assume they are beastmen."
A flurry of commotion was traded between the mayor and knight, whom quickly spread it like a disease to the humans in general where it mutated into near panic but was quickly channeled into funneling out of the castle and towards the beach and the massive metal beast that rests there.
Looking to Vanniel, Vehuel ordered, "Go with them, they seem to trust you somewhat and will probably feel more comfortable with you in the hold."
Giving that feint if sincere smile, "Your will, father."
"Father?!" A man exclaimed.
Looking over, he saw that one damned human from earlier, glaring daggers at him into silence, covering the boy with a shoulder and quickly remerging with the others.
"He was trying to protect his nephew." Vanniel meekly stated. "He was certain we were summoned and controlled by a rival nation some distance from here. He feared the worst when you were at the gate."
"Admirable. Foolish, but admirable." Vehuel placed a finger to his ear and messaged Shiehk, "Use detection spells to spot which ships have humans."
"I see… one, filled heavily with them, maybe just over a two hundred souls, the farthest one behind the fleet."
"When the ships unload their troops; target a ship without humans, strike at my signal; you'll understand it when you see it."
"I hate it when you're cryptic."
Uncertain if Shiehk meant to send that or sent it merely by accident, Vehuel disconnected, "I'll stay here."
Vanniel blinked, "For what reason? There are almost a thousand beastmen coming this way. If you wish to try and negotiate with them, I would wish to be with you as well!"
"I do not know what I intend." The sentence came too calmly out of him, and continued with, "I wish to see what stock these people place in their reasoning, the ones sent before them may have been merely pawns in their game and… I desire their fear against me."
Vanniel spoke uncertainly, "This… desire… is unseemly for a seraph."
Momentary forgetting himself, Vehuel thought hard on this. 'I'm immune to fear, get angry over injustice, don't mind killing obviously… but not all of human emotion have been stripped from me. I want to fight… fully in control, see how it feels… wouldn't angels, of all the races from YGGDRASIL, be bereft of desire?' "Desire… might be the incorrect word," He quickly thought aloud, "I wish to see if this world is like the last, we may have to adapt to a whole new set of laws, rules and methods of engagement in the future, I would use myself as a test in this regard."
Vanniel looked almost relieved, her brow relaxing, "I see, I understand now."
"Please, leave me, I wish to prepare alone."
Vehuel heard Vanniel bow before joining the last of the mass line of humans, and when they were a fair enough distance away, "Idiot, idiot, idiot…", paced to a castle wall, leant backwards slightly then threw his head towards it with all his might. A single grouping of bricks flew out towards the sea, shocking the seraph. "Whoa…" Luis spoke lowly in awe, but quickly regained himself and spoke, "Have to be much more careful about this, who knows how loyal these NPCs will be when they realize I'm not what I look like, why am I talking to myself?" Vehuel proclaimed, as quietly as he could to see if it still worked; "「His feet, part of iron, part of clay.」" And grinned broadly when not did the effect occur, but seemed to mirror the inconspicuous mode which he said it and the transformation was much less dramatic, explosive and immeasurably faster, and walked out of the small pillar of smoke in the false-flesh more comfortably then he was in his armor, placed a thumb to his chin and thought aloud, "But maybe there's a player in the beastmen territories? Or the people there are frequenters of other places and players might exist there?" He still had the plan of flooding the areas with items from YGGDRASIL so that it would lead back to Istannice, but maybe he could also do something else, something far more direct and impactful on the world then simple trading?
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Shaman-Chief Morghar looked out across the forest before looking back and seeing his troops continuing to vacate the ships, the Thegns still arguing between not only each other but their warriors as well who leaves and who stays on the ship to guard the humans. Morghar rolled his deep red eyes at them, bored long ago from his kinsfolk's infighting, despite how cosmopolitan the Abelion Hills have become with the other kindreds, they still bicker like their human neighbors. One would think neighboring such a bountiful source of prey that such squabbles would have been eradicated.
"「Find Allies! 」" Morghar proclaimed, jutting his staff forward, the teeth of the hundred other shamans of his line banging against the Cyprus-wood. A radiant, yellow wave that scoured the flora in front of him, quickly disappearing from his view, delving over into the forest for over a league.
Stroking his white beard, fondling the charms in his hair as he waited for the spell to return to him. His ears twitched slightly as it heard the approach of one of the MinoKnights, "No sign of the Bloodclaws then?"
"None, chief." Planting his great axe in the sand, "How can 'em humans kill all 'em boys? Just farmers 'n some knights."
Despite the ineloquence of his underling's speech, Morghar nodded, "A good question." Feeling a particularly grim feeling at the prospect that they were somehow killed, despite all information of the area suggesting it was impossible, the Shaman proclaimed another spell; "「Detect: Dead!」" Both beastmen looked on aghast as the forest lit up in pockets of grey light, outlining the numerous cadavers and corpses.
Quickly barking out a series of orders, he was interrupted by a human walking through the tree line and declaring, "You have lost, raiders!"
Taken aback from the order, Morghar raised his hand up towards the ships and gave a sharp, loud bark, stopping every member of the band where they stood and approached the stranger with a rough huff of air out of his nose, "You, come!" He ordered without looking at the Minoknight, the massive creature following his heels closely, almost fearful of what they approach like a shy child or a terrified pet, even as it held its massive weapon.
The shaman looked around, seeing birds picking at fresh gore, the smell of the dead meeting his senses even before that. Morghar took only a pinch of comfort knowing that their intelligence gathering wasn't as comatose as he initially thought, but even this modicum of solace was removed when he realized that this creature had a force that could deal with one of his own in mere hours, far from any form of human settlement or fortress. He felt a tinge of sweat form at the possibility that it still may lay in ambush, out of sight, smell or any other sense that beastmen may possess.
The Gor, as he paced to the intruder, recognized that he may have been premature as labeling the being as human. He stood unusually still, flesh of greys and eyes even the wildest and most bizarre of the various beastmen kindred do not have, all amidst a baldness that disquieted Morghar, being near a dozen paces away, called out, "I assume that you are the commander of the force that destroyed the Bloodclaws."
"I am indeed, to whom am I speaking?" His bizarre attire had an audible ruffle with every movement as he gestured between himself and Morghar.
"I am Morghar, chief and shaman of the Bright-Teeth, Warherd in command of the Womb-Eaters, Ironstars and formerly of the Bloodclaws, you?"
Instead of looking overly confident or boastful, he looked concernedly between the pair and the veritable army behind him. "Please." Gesturing to the ground with a hand before sitting. "We must talk."
"You expect me to treat among the very dead you killed?!" The albino Gor demanded with a jab of his finger.
"If we don't talk, I will be forced to add you and yours to their ranks." The man's hand reached forward and was enveloped into the Item Box, where he pulled out an iron kettle, steam pouring out every crevice as it met the frigid, dusky air. "Tea?"
Morghar was taken aback by this only a moment before smiling, "By all means." Beginning to sit and gesturing for his companion to do the same.
Trying to piece together everything and plan out what he will order his warherd's other casters, Morghar stared as three goblets were placed in front of them and filled with the warm liquid, the smell reaching both beastmen and the heavenly scented beverages immediately whetted a parched thirst neither knew they had, but caution bade them to wait and see if the stranger drank first, whom did so a moment after, but instead of smiling or speaking further on demands of the warherd, his face took a sour expression as he looked at his drink, "I don't think I even have a sense of taste." He stated outloud and looked to the beastmen, "Please try it, I'm afraid I might have prepared the wrong brew!"
Morghar blew lightly into the cup before sipping lightly off the top and gave a content sigh as he smacked his lips, "Ah best thing to happen on this expedition! What is this?" The Gor's mood lightened so drastically he barely noticed it until the stranger smiled back at him.
Before he answered, the Minoknight almost meekly requested, "Uh, can I have that? Not much for me to start with." Lifting the goblet that seemed tiny in comparison to his palm as he pointed at the kettle.
"Of course!" Lifting the kettle towards the taur, whom took it gladly and drained its contents directly into his maw, humming gleefully. "Ah! Where are my manners? I am Prince Vehuel, I came here seeking answers, I have one of your magic-users as my prisoner for that very reason and I'm here to deliver an ultimatum; leave now, warn your people I am coming to end whomever desires to continue this abominable conflict between these humans and your people." Vehuel's hand dipped into the item-nimbus once more and pulled out another kettle, "Anymore?"
Both Beastmen looked worriedly between themselves but Morghar steeled himself, glared at Vehuel, placing his goblet down with enough force the steaming contents spilled all over his hand before standing, "Whatever force you have mustered; it cannot defeat us now. There are more than twice the men on the shore now you encountered, dozens more combat and magic specialists. Perhaps your force is better equipped and trained, but eventually the swarm of bees will bring down the pack of hounds."
Vehuel grimaced, "To be honest, I knew you'd say something like that. I expected I'd feel disappointed, but I don't, can't tell if that's a bad thing." Vehuel himself stood, "Take your men home, save their lives, abandon what slaves you have collected here and now."
"I refuse." Morghar forced a defiant smile, "I thank you for the beverage, know I will endeavor to recreate it when I raise your corpse as my thrall in unlife."
"Very well." Vehuel pointed at the sky and cast, "「Firebolt! 」!" A burning sphere shot from his fingertip and fled into the clouds.
"Ah very crude, why waste the magic in using an attack spell as a flare?" Morghar scoffed before looking to his companion, "Minoknight, punish his stupidity."
The taur hefted up its massive axe, and swung it down onto the unmoving Vehuel, the weapon cleaved across his torso in a slant from that met at the nape of his neck and the iron head was so massive that it met the grassy ground near his feet. Or so it seemed at first.
Vehuel gave a small smile, "How rude," Cracking his neck, as he placed his fingers on the axe head, pushed it off his body and made both the Minoknight and shaman stare in disbelief; the axe hadn't damaged the man in the slightest, instead, the axe itself was peeled back from the impact against him. "Seems this low tier material was effected by my physical resistance. Curious." He commented as he pinched the axe between his finger and thumb, steadily pushing the taur back with his attacker's weapon without any visible effort even as the Minoknight huffed and growled pushing back to resist. "Look back to your raiders, old goat." Vehuel gestured at the ships with his chin.
Morghar looked back, and with sudden horror, observed as one of the ships was rendered into splinters, what men were still aboard flying in every direction as a single, burning red lance penetrated the whole and seemingly forced it to combust before it turned directions suddenly and returned to the sea's horizion.
"I beg you to reconsider." Vehuel toned, "How many more men do you have to lose before you desire to take the rest home?"
Morghar stared at the remains of his warherd, his mouth agape and dry, stunned and nearly catatonic, "T-Those men…" a strong breeze suddenly blew from behind the gor followed by a shrew and unintelligible curse from the taur, and as the albino turned to face the creature who wielded such power, Morghar immediately knelt as he gazed upon a golden angel.
"Boss?!" The Minoknight had dropped the axe the moment the human changed into its new form, "What are we doin'?!"
"I… will release the captives…" The gor almost mumbled, "Spare the rest of my men."
"Boss, no! We must avenge those he killed!" The Minoknight drew a 'short' sword at his hip and pointed it at the shaman. "You spit on all who've died here and every single one of your ancestors!" Turning its gaze back to the angel, he yelled, "「Piercing Strike! 」"
The angel mumbled a confused, "Wait-" As the beastman lunged towards Vehuel, whom put up a hand defensively albeit slowly, which offered more then enough time for the shimmering red shortsword to be plunged into its new home. Vehiel's chest wasn't pierced, nor did it seem effected at all.
The taur glared in defiant disbelief, "Impossible! I stabbed through a stonewall before!" Struggling to keep the point pressed on the angel's chest.
"That was no spell from YGGDRASIL…" Vehuel boomed at the shocked beastman, "What in the Seven Hells did you do?" While far from doing any noticeable damage that due to his Second Form's immunity towards unenchanted attacks, but he somehow knew the attack would have bypassed fifteen percent of his armor rating from that single attack. Considering killing two birds with one stone; Vehuel reached his hand out, the will to feel a weapon within in his hands becoming manifest in holy light that burned so fiercely that it scorched the grass to ash underfoot, a massive length of divine power stretching to the length of a massive great sword of luminosity, "Stop now, or die!" Trying to ignore the orange aura that briefly affected him.
The Minoknight brought the sword back, "NEVER! 「Piercing Strike! 」" He yelled out and stabbed once more.
The shortsword didn't meet the angel again, the holy blade flashed through the beastman effortlessly, the taur stepping forward a pace, a startled expression on his face, dropping to his knees as he let go of his sword. "By all my ancestors… what are you?" As it stretched its neck to look up at the angel, a line of crimson formed vertically down its face, growing down its chest and gut, meeting at his nethers, before blood erupted from the fissure and he finally split in two with a shower of blood.
Morghar shuttered in terror as he beheld the altercation's end, "Gods…" Resting its head on the earth, silently praying, petrified of what more this beast will do to his people.
Vehuel marched towards the albino, looming over him silently. The gor unsteadily lifted its gaze towards the angel, and was surprised to see it leaning down, offering its hand. "I am glad you agreed to terms before your friend attacked." The sword flashed into nothingness, sweat on the gor's neck and chops suddenly ice cold from the lack of heat.
Morghar sighed stiffly, suddenly feeling his age, his vulnerability and the briefness of his mortality washing over him. "I will go to my warherd…"
"I will come with you, shaman." Vehuel nodded, "To ensure the humans depart safely."
The walk down towards the ship was lengthy enough that Vehuel pondered recent events; most of the creatures he has encountered don't seem to be above even level twenty, angels in this world are seemingly only thralls or proxies of summoners, and a bizarre magic system seems to exist alongside the one he and his fellows from YGGDRASIL can utilize. Unless YGGDRASIL spells are unique only to those whom came with the abilities like the NPCs? Despite the question if its right to feed a prisoner to the Hell-Tree for her knowledge, Vehuel is becoming anxious to know what can be gained from the result of it.
The beastmen that remained were not only busy trying to understand the parlay between their chief and a seraph, but were also contending with gathering their dead, salvable armor, weapons, material and keeping the humans in the hold corralled. Vehuel oversaw the unloading of the would-be slaves, and while some were handled more brutishly, these were quickly punished by the practiced barks of Morghar, who was a beastman of his word in this regard. However, the seraph saw that many of the humans were missing eyes, had hands cut off and the ends crudely seared, great welts of blood clotting on their heads, some pale and sickly or otherwise maimed by their captors getting them to the ship or after they had did so. While Vehuel had a desire to rectify their treatment with the blood of bestmen, Vehuel kept to his word as well, knowing that they were alive, could be healed and now freed was a greater victory then foolish bloodshed. After the hundred or so humans were gathered, Vehuel turned to Morghar, and stated, "I will be coming, shaman, have no doubt in this. This pathetic conflict will end between these humans here and your people, one way or another, I leave the choice to you of how, until this…" the angel raised its hand towards the gor, "safety on your travels." Vehuel himself was stunned at this show, surprised at how lucid he's become but relieved the aura doesn't compel him to further violence when he doesn't desire it.
The angel placed a finger to his ear, "Minister, gate us to the ship." A bright, shimmering Gate ribboning with oranges and yellows appeared at Vehuel's flank, looking to his following of humans and said, "The ship this leads to is on its way to Rimun, where you and all those that survived will be released back to your country."
"Y-you were the one who destroyed the beastman ship?" A middle-aged woman asked up, a length of cloth covering her right eye, soaked with blood.
Vehuel stated, "This is irrelevant, please move into the Gate."
"I think it's a trap!" One of the men declared, "That's an angel, it's probably taking us to the heart of Slane country!"
Vehuel's armored heated visibly in frustration, even as he calmly stated, "I am not an angel you are used to; I have my own mind and obey no summoner. I have come to stop the slavers and negotiated your freedom from their yolk. I shan't force you to enter, but know the area is evacuated and none will be able to assist you. I am going now, to those who will come, follow me."
Vehuel emerged on the opposite side of the portal, standing in the quinquereme's hold, the Gate in making it awkward to adjust to the rocking of the ship as it stayed fixed amid the mobile ground and wasn't bound strictly to it. Plenty of room was available, thankfully, as many of the refugees were probably populated more atop the ship then within it, but some saw Vehuel and the Gate in, with Shiehk waiting at the side of the deck, overlooking several papers, flanked by Sand-Elf spellmasters. "Ah, finally. What took so long?" She inquired whimsically as the humans began to funnel out of the Gate, she ordered, "Everyone! Come towards us, we will see to your injuries and then will be guided up the ship!" Hefting up Gungnir from a sandy nimbus at her feet, something maybe not unlike his own Item Box, and held it up with both hands, "I'd throw it to you, but you've already seen an example of what these arms can do." Vehuel could see the slight lifting of the top of her cheeks as she smiled.
"I certain don't want to be on the end of that." Vehuel lifted it up and felt suddenly whole again, sighing as he lent his head to the side curiously, "Why not just Gate us up to the top deck?" Just as one of the humans retched onto the floor.
"That's why… the Graeci find seeing seasickness as unlucky and offensive, and they asked I keep it out of sight of the crew." She pulled a quill out of her sleeve as the closest human approached her, an elderly man. "Name?"
"E-Edger Mangsk ma'am."
She wrote his name down, gestured to the a spellmaster whom spoke quickly: "Cuts, bruising, cracked ribs, lacking body fat, arthritias, allergies to-"
"Um I had those last two long before my capture." The old man smiled.
"Nevertheless…" Shiehk wrote down every condition he was afflicted with, "I am giving you a minor healing potion, drink it slowly, if you've been on an empty stomach for some time it might cause nausea, then hand us back the vial." Shiehk reached into wooden box secured by chains to the floor and pulled out a thin, glass container, filled with red liquid. Drinking its content, Edgar sighed contently, and color visibly return to the man's skin, appearing so lively that it made Vehuel doubt his age assessment from first glance. "Next!"
The cold, bureaucratic tone of this whole scenario made Vehuel think back to home… not Istannice, but Earth. How many jobs forced this terrible sense of apathy in their occupation in the home-domes, one would think that since the Church practically took control of the government in Italy, there'd be at least the illusion of compassion. Finding it all distasteful, Vehuel proceeded up to the top of the vessel, trying instead to focus on what's ahead then what's behind, but the thought kept on coming back to Luis; was he dead?
This would be a royally awesome afterlife, sure, but out of all his family, Luis was the most secular of them, bordering dangerously on Doubter territory on more then one occasion. Luis was confident that if he didn't offer a free supper at his restaurant to the odd bishop or cardinal, he would have been hung or exiled to the wilds long before his thirtieth year of life.
Thankfully, someone else brought Luis out of his thoughts, in the form of Vanniel, but Vehuel had to pause and stare to recognize her as she said, "Father! Glad you have returned!" She smiled.
"You have hair? How did this come to pass?" She was clothed as well in the graeci dress, a 'peplos' if he recalled Bethany's history rants correctly.
While her skin still carried the angelic traits of marble, she had a long mop of golden hair that reached past her shoulders, curling a length of it between a finger and thumb and holding it out as if offering it to Vehuel, "Yes! They asked why I was bald, it made them uncomfortable, so I tried making longer hair!"
Vehuel stared curiously, "Can angels do that? Modify body parts or change aspects of their physical form?"
"It came as a surprise to me as well, and only after intense concentration did it start to form, but other elements like skin, shape and what not, I don't know." She shrugged. "May you inform me what happened?"
Vehuel retold the events, the archangel relieved of the human's safety, was surprised at her patron's mercy, "Why let survivors leave? Considering how weak these creatures have been, death would have been an easy punishment to give and enough of a deterrent for others who would dare infringe here."
"A dead man can only teach the living so much, an army of broken slavers, not once having met an enemy in battle but utterly defeated still, will return home of our coming soon. The demoralizing effect would possibly save thousands of lives in our future conquest!"
"So, you do intend to place these beastfolk under our control?" Vanniel looked back at the seraph with what could be seen as regret or distaste, which the former of whom picked up on clearly.
Which made Vehuel consider the act. He may have been a creature of conquest, but what of his now sapient NPCs? He was now thinking to in-depth into his YGGDRASIL character without considering that he indeed did have free will with his choices, as limiting as his nature may be now. No, conquest would be too rash, and without more answers and information, may have fatal consequences for himself and those of Istannice. Vehuel gaze drifted down to the deck, "Perhaps not."
Vanniel blinked at this. Never in her life had she seen her patron and maker so uncertain or uncomfortable, doubt was anathema to an angel, like poison to a mortal, the seraph's golden armor darkening visibly to a more bronze hue, and her worry was only compounded when the seraph continued with, "We are going to help these humans, of that little I am confident." He shook his head, making the halo above him bounce a short dance. "I apologize, my child; this is a… strange circumstance we find ourselves in and I find myself at a loss for plans."
Vanniel stared at Vehuel, "May I…" sounding suddenly uncertain herself, "Stay with Evan and Theo?"
Vehuel was brought out of his reverie, looking up in confusion, "Who?"
"The humans!" Vanniel quickly corrected, "I find their company agreeable and want them to feel safe for as long as they are aboard."
"Oh… of course, you have my blessing." Vehuel nodded, placing a hand on her tiny shoulder, "Be safe and well."
Vanniel didn't give the time to be surprised from her father's allowance of such a luxury, instead quickly marching past him, disturbed more then pleased.
Vehuel was reached by one of the humans on the deck, one of those who hid in the ruined castle, clad in plate armor, old age had settled harshly on the old knight, but he nevertheless didn't seemed to impede him as he bowed to the angel. "You and yours have accrued a great debt with me and my people, Ser Angel. Whatever may happen between your subjects and mine; know you have an ally."
"Rise, please." Vehuel stated this demanded a bit harsher and uncharitably then should have been expected, but his own mental conundrums were already dealing with the possibility that he was dead, and he won't be able to see his own newborn niece or nephew, or any of his family again for that matter. "I apologize, today has left much of me to think on. I was actually hoping that you may enlighten me of this area of the world and why are beastmen attacking you, but that can wait; who are you?"
The knight smiled, "Ser Jannune of Torbina, I was sent here as an intermediary of the South."
'Hmmm… hopefully with the time the Atlas has been active, it'll have grown enough knowledge of this world to give them a better picture.' "Please, tell me of this country."
Seems that this 'Roble Holy Kingdom' was a monarchy, with a vast geographical and political divide between its northern and southern regions, and the only thing protecting them from its neighbor, the beastmen controlled Abelion Hills, is a vast fortification stretching over a hundred kilometers long, meeting the boundaries of another human state, the Slane Theocracy. Vehuel nodded, "Yes, tell me more of this one; it is able to summon angels?"
"Yes," The knight seemed hesitant to answer, "We had no idea angels could have freewill, nor independence, simply thralls summoned at their whims. Where are you from?"
"Istannice, my city eversweet." Uncertainty kept him from doing his full spiel to the man, remembering full well the end of when he said it last. "We were from a land far from here, very different, and… honestly we do not know how we arrived in the seas nearby."
"Well, to who or whatever sent you our way, they have our thanks!" the knight laughed heartedly before asking, "Considering how fast this vessel travels, we'll reach Rimun before we know it, I would encourage sending an envoy to Hoburns, we're in a desperate need for allies in these dark times."
"Indeed, aren't we all?" The seraph scoffed to himself, "Now, what is it you desire to know from me?" Looking to the knight.
"I wouldn't impose-"
"I must insist, you have as much a duty to report back to your countrymen as I have to do mine. Please, I don't mind in the slightest."
"Uh who leads your nation? Where is it located?"
'Well, I made my bed, now it's time to sleep in it.' Vehuel was thinking to himself for several seconds on how to respond. Did he lead it? The Seven Ministers? What manner of city would he desire to lead into this new world? "The Prince leads Istannice… I am a bit lacking in the finer minutia of nautical skills to give precise instructions, but some dozen miles… that way." Pointing vaguely northwest.
"What do you expect your Prince's intentions to be after this?"
Vehuel paused for several seconds before saying, "That remains to be seen. We will require more information until any larger act can be declared, but I have no doubt you and yours already have his sympathies." A sour taste of embarrassment tinged his mind from the reliance of referring to himself in the third person. "It can be insured to you however; we are a city built on the back of trading and mutual prosperity; we don't desire war if we can avoid it." Vehuel rubbed the back of his head nervously, thinking back to YGGDRASIL, where if the Gilded were ever brought into fisticuffs with other guilds, they usually just bared them from access to Istannice's vast amount of trade and high tier resources, and God help them if they managed to set up a banking account where they stocked their materials and gold, then people who dare trade with them in materials from Istannice, they themselves would be bared from trade again until an tribute of such vastness, they would usually have to make new expansions to the vaults to accommodate the overflowing coffers.
"For a peaceful people, how did you become so strong?" The knight inquired, "Those beastmen have led lives of nothing but conflict, how are you superior?"
"It wasn't easy, it took years to get us where we are now." Vehuel would have smiled if he was physically capable of it, thinking back to the near decade of effort he plied with his brother to get the Gilded to how it was, how it rushed by so quickly, Luis trained as a chef for longer then he was playing YGGDRASIL but yet he recalled the later far clearer. "These men, these proud graeci you have met, were the product of my fellow prince, Percillia, a warrior of godly skill, possibly greater renown and once the owner of the spear in my hand, the unstoppable Gungnir." Lifting the lance in his hand slightly, "But they are not all who inhabit the lands, we live, shoulder to shoulder with beastmen, not dissimilar to those who you fight, sand-elves, demons, angels of my own making and dragons of the Black Iron peeks. We may be wildly variant in our sight and powers, but our endeavors are always for the betterment of each other and Istannice. The adversity, the strife we have endured has made us powerful, clear of purpose; Istannice stands."
The crew startled the Seraph of Audacity and the guests both, as they gave one short, loud cheer at their prince's words. "They seem to agree." The knight mumbled.
"Now, rest at ease and when you return to your queen, tell her I will send an emissary seven days hence." 'Wow, I didn't know I knew that word!' Impressed with his own vocabulary.
"Thank you Ser- may I know your name?"
The angel paused, "I… I am Vehuel." He felt strange saying it, as if doing so confirmed his stay in this world, and his role in it. "If there is nothing further, I must depart." Quickly dismissing himself, he returned below deck and found a spot away from any crew or refugees to think. "What am I doing?" He grabbed his head with his free hand. "I need help, please, anyone." He prayed, "I don't know what to do, someone tell me what to do." He whined, the orange effect returning to his gaze a couple more times.
"Prince?" Shiehk inquired gently as she made her way to the angel, "What are you doing here? Talking to the chickens?"
The clucking of the hens was then and only then recognized by Luis as he looked around the stockroom and saw cages of poultry, bags of eggs, animal feed and the disgusting odor of chicken feces. "Oh… uh well…" He rubbed the back of his head, "Looking for wisdom that I couldn't provide myself."
"You certainly were heading in the right direction." Shiehk lifted her robes lightly off the ground as she walked closer. "Though I think these creature's intellect tower somewhat above you."
Vehuel startled Shiehk with his wild laughter, the thunderous notes so deep and booming that it seemed to rattle the entire ship, and only began to subside when he leant against the hull. "Thank you, I needed that."
Shiehk looked at the angel had grown a second head, "You've been acting very strange this today, why?"
"This world may have done something to me or maybe I am simply being more of myself now I'm away from all that chaos we left on the beach." He shrugged.
"No, you were acting weird long before you convinced me to come on this voyage. Is it because of Abnox and her disappearance?"
"And Nasazel's, and Ozzydamandiuz's and… I'm… I'm," The aura flared once more as he said, "sad." He managed to whisper. Regardless of the aura's affects, he knew full and fundamentally well how completely without aim he was. Did he want to go back home? How? What would it take? Is it even possible? What made this world and put him and his city on it? Now this insanity wrapped in an enigma with how easy it is to kill people; living, breathing people just like him and then feel like it was of even less effort than making an omelette. He found himself staring at the deck, 'Guess I am broody afterall.' Thinking of Bethany. 'Nothing's going to be the same.' His thoughts wandering to his restaurant, his family and he felt so cold and… 'Why's she so close?' Why Shiehk was at head level with him, glaring murder and having a hand to his chest was at the forefront of his mind even before he realized everything was a bit taller, which took a considerable amount of brainpower to realize he had dropped to his knees, trying to stay up by grabbing onto one of the chickencoops breaking it open, setting the poultry free and flapping about the cabin. "Minister?" His voice hoarse, gripping Shiehk's hand back in confusion. "What is…"
"How did you become like this?! You're dying!" She snarled, and due to both their proximity and cramped conditions, her coverings were partially pulled down and the features revealed even startled the doubt addled angel, seeing the beginnings of a nose but the nostrils coasted in scales and the cavities themselves were long, reaching the middle of the typical nose and growing in size the lower they became. "What happened? What's wrong?!"
Despite the ability to try and keep his identity as both Vehuel and Luis separate; the seraph croaked out, "I was going to be an uncle."
The minister's confusion was made even worse by the statement, the bewilderment being cut off when a genuinely startled angel cried out from behind her; "Father!" Vanniel rushing to his side in an instant, "What ails you?! This…" she stares, "He's lost heart! Something is destroying his will to live!" Backing up from her maker as if realizing he had been infected by some terrible plague, "A Seraph can suffer possibly this fate?"
"Explain, angel!" Shiehk roared, both in a literal and metaphorical sense, a billow of black smoke erupting from her covered mouth.
Vanniel looked to Shiehk,"Our souls and bodies are much more closely tied together then mortals, to such a point they are nearly one and the same, so when certain stresses and emotional turbulence can manage to affect us deeply enough, we begin to weaken and die."
"He's dying of depression. Verbatim?!" She screamed, "How do we stop it?!"
"He needs to know he has much to live for." The archangel's eyes darted from side to side in thought, desperately trying to find something, anything, to remove this condition from something as strong as a seraph might be nearly impossible.
Shiehk had other thoughts on the matter, stooping down, face to face with angel as she screamed, "If you're going to be an uncle, whatever that means, would you really allow them to kill you?!"
The bronze hued seraph didn't seem to respond, where Shiehk sighed, "If you cannot be an uncle to, whoever it is, you're talking about; you're an uncle to someone else now! You were uh an uncle to those humans we saved today! How many parents, children, nieces and nephews did we allow to live another day because of you and your stupid decision to come here blind? You came here to trade, so you can come here to trade your life for theirs? You are still a poor merchant."
Vehuel's body groaned to life as he moved his arm and clasped it around Shiehk's shoulder but was still as silent as the grave. Shiehk shook her head, "We… will not know what to do if you died. Please, if you cannot live to be an uncle, live to be my- our prince."
The armor warmed in color to a dull electrum, Vehuel gave a reverberating cough as he struggled to stand again, the metallic wings, having grown a cold, iron color; burned to life. "I… apologize." He wheezed, and with Shiehk struggling to help him up, Vanniel was able to bring herself to help him. "Never felt anything like that before."
"We worry, father." Vanniel replied, "Minister; gate us back home, he must rest."
"No." He shook his head, "I will stay aboard the ship while I can, I wish to see this human port. How long until we arrive?" He leant against Vanniel as he scooped up Gungnir.
Shiehk looked to the side, "Less then an hour, I will encourage more speed from the captain. Prince, archangel." She departed courtly for the decks above them.
Vehuel considered asking after her, but decided she probably wanted to be alone, turned towards Vanniel and said, "Thank you."
"I did nothing, Seraph of Audacity." She bowed.
"Please, no bowing. Ever."
[]
The city of Rimun was, to Vehuel's expctations, fairly banal. He was thinking it'd be like the cities from YGGDRASIL, a massive, larger then life settlement with great walls, big keeps, shops and so on but with only a few NPCs filling the place. This was quite the inverse; the buildings were shorter, some run down and desiccated from neglect, whilst hundreds of people came to see their arrival alone. The Bastion type vessel too large to fit into port and had to run smaller ships to and from the harbors and moorings. Despite the desire to observe further, Vehuel felt the innumerable stares as he and Vanniel were at the edge of the deck and had to depart.
While initially Shiehk seemed distraught at the ideal; Vehuel insisted that each refugee was given a gold coin from the hold. The people could have taken a hundred each and he doubted the amount taken would equal to even a quarter of the stash, but considering the looks they gave the coins, it likely wasn't accepted tender, but the gold itself likely held some value all on its own. Hopefully it would be enough to secure their future wellness until they can find them a new home.
The sun was just beginning to set when they returned to Istannice, telling the crew they could have as much of the cargo as they wished as payment for such exemplary and timely service, dismissed Vanniel and asked whether or not Shiehk wished to accompany him to Istannice's Depths.
She accepted and made way to the base of the citadel, the eyrie of angels above them, and when they approached the massive door to the caverns beneath it; a stony cave descended to the roosts shadowy reflection, the area crafted by Nasazel for his demonic NPCs and minions. The light was dim, hued a hellish red and when they met the core of place, they were not met by demons, instead, it was a barricade of shaggy imps, covered in crude, spikey armor, grasping infernal weapons and masked in tribal visors depicting the eight other demon lords of the Depths. A snarling dog approached Vehuel and the minister, whom lifted his mask, revealing an ugly, flat, platformed nose, great ears and small, sunken eyes, the features clearly bat like and jagged teeth as it smiled at the two, "Prince, Shiehk!" He immediately knelt, "We are honored by your presence, the Archangel of Truth has told of us of your arrival and is the depths of the Hell-Tree as we speak. Shall we accompany you?"
Aldrikkni. Yes, that was what they were called, a custom race that his brother made. While they are based off the stats of Hobgoblins, and clearly depicted as a race that serve demonic masters, they themselves were not strictly evil. In fact, nothing Nasazel made was strictly evil, including the demon lords; the hellish elements were not seen as evil by Maxi, something controversial he himself believed that demons were still angels in some regard, continuing to serve God by punishing the wicked, but were closer to humans in the peeks and valleys of flaws and personalities, with free will in some form, unlike the smiting messengers they originally were. The Aldrikkni were crafted by the Demon Lords from the souls they found repentant enough to have a new life, free to choose their own fate once more. 'For a psychologist, he sure had some crazy ideas.' Luis thought.
"We'd be happy for the company." Vehuel nodded, the greeter looking back and screeched something in their cruel tongue, where four others leapt from the barricade and flanked their superior.
Knowing the way to Haoma-Dannoto by sheer repetition of years, he opened the massive doors and saw the tree itself: wild branches of burnt-black lumber, budding, cancerous blossoms of would-be-fruit, and the tips of red leaves dripped with blood. And at the center of the trunk, Vehuel saw the beastman prisoner, thorny vines holding her against it as it slowly supped on her body and soul, a withered body, drained of fluids and all that remains of life is emaciated and gaunt, mouth open wide in a silent scream, where the archangel, Nothiel, loomed near her and stood near the fruit that had grown close by.
"「His feet, part of iron, part of clay」" Vehuel chanted, gaining his son's attention as he changed into a human form.
"Seraph." Nothiel nodded at Vehuel. "The Mortal Fruit is ready for consumption."
Vehuel spied the magical produce wearily, the confection seeming to beat like a heart, veins running over its surface, "Good." He said as he paced towards it, reached out and plucked it off its branch, blood dripping from its broken branch. "I will have it."
Nothiel and Shiehk exchanged a worried glance at one another, "My Prince, I don't believe that is wise, the state you were in on the Bastion may have weakened you and we don't know what this might do to you." The latter explained.
"Which is why, if anything happens…" Vehuel presented the minister Gungnir, "You will make sure that Istannice is safe, protect the humans on these other lands, and send an envoy in seven days to their capital."
When she took the spear, Vehuel bit into the fruit, the viscous fluids splattering and spitting its discharge around his cheeks and neck. It had a metallic taste, but despite how horrible the sensation would have been, he was glad he was able to taste something again. As he finished the confection, Vehuel's eyes widened, and for a moment he wasn't Vehuel. Or Luis.
He was Alyith, daughter of Himn.
The archangel and minister stared as he was flooded with the memories and experiences of the victim but were shocked when the Aldrikkni dropped to their knees, unmasked themselves and prayed, "May She provide One's Truth." Shiehk thought they were referring to the prisoner, but then then they continued with, "Haoma-Dannoto, She who brings sullen sweetness of the Sinner."
[]
Vehuel experienced the aftereffects like a dream, as if trying to remember the event pushed it farther from remembrance, but could feel it more than recall specific details, but could sift the issues easily. The various tribes and kindreds of the beastmen were far from unified, and desperation has only mounted in their downturn, something about… monsters plaguing the world some two centuries prior to his arrival, the cities destroyed, whole species wiped out, and only after the Twenty-Heroes defeated their leader did peace return.
The Abelion Hills were so hard to live off of; the humans killed so many of us when we lived in the countries, they- Vehuel grabbed his head harshly. "Damnation, I hope this isn't permanent." He said aloud before turning to the group of former-NPCs, "I think I have enough to think about for a month!" He laughed.
The Aldrikkni followed the trio out of the Depths, expressing depths of honor at their visit, and Vehuel, again, expressing his displeasures at all the bowing and kneeling.
'Hopefully that isn't permanent.' He thought. "So, this envoy…" He said to Shiehk, "I would like you to be a part of it, take whomever you wish but I will be taking my own entourage to depart company as soon as I am sure you're safe in their Hoburns."
Shiehk eyed him, frustration and confusion only growing hour by hour for her leader, "To what end? I thought you'd want to be there for everything? I know the humans certainly will!"
"If need be, you can gate me in, but I…" He rubbed his neck and smiled embarrassingly, "want to explore, and learn important things while I do it. You will learn much with the humans in their capital, but I need to see everything from the ground, I was thinking I'd be in a small caravan, going from city to town to village, gathering what knowledge we can."
"You wish to rub shoulders with the human peasants?" Shiehk scoffed.
"Hell yes!" He smiled broadly.
Despite herself, she smiled back though she doubted Vehuel could see it. "I'm glad you're recovered."
"Ah… yes. I never thanked you for your words."
Shiehk shook her head, "And you never will, if you know what's good for you!"
On the way back to the palace, Vehuel caught a whiff of the most magnificent scent he's encountered, meaty, fatty and spicy. He never felt as hungry as he did then and had to dismiss himself from Shiehk and Nothiel to investigate it. It was a graeci patrol, a large fire at their post where they had set a massive split roast over the blaze. Vehuel didn't even acknowledge the half dozen or so hoplites as he reached out and pulled out a chunk of meat with his bare hands, and as the food reached his tongue and proceeded to chew, Luis nearly moaned.
'The Mortal Fruit…' Luis thought, 'it must have changed me somehow in more than just give me memories.' And as he looked back to see Shiehk speak with minister Melkoth, he stared at one of the sand-elf assistants that were at his side, her slender curves, dark skin and breathtaking visage burned a dim flame of arousal in the seraph's chest.
'If one can make me feel like this again, what would tw- NO!' The mere idea that he'd feed someone else to the Hell-Tree to experience simple pleasures again was abhorrent, 'This is enough.' Luis looked down at the ground and lightly shook his head, "It has to be."
[][]
I bit off more then I could chew with trying to get this out a day after the first part.
So; the Aldrikkni is actually a D&D homebrew species I made. Kinda based them off the Magog from the Andromeda tv show from only an aesthetic perspective.
I was planning on commissioning someone to make the level/trait cards for characters, if not just Vehuel, also the ministers and if possible, the other Princes then the Harshad-27, but isn't a priority.
Hopefully I'll get the other chapter out soon but let me know if you guys don't mind long chapters to read, because these last two parts were originally going to be one chapter.
Anyways! Thank you for reading and have a good day!