You know, there were worse things than to be a clone. Or at least, being informed that I was a clone with a shot at being an agent. Or at least having a job and avoiding being tortured and made into currency or a toy or you know, just tormented for shits and giggles, because his original self signed a deal due to dog death depression. Which I could not blame me/him for because I was sad there was no pug to hug, to cuddle and snort and hold tight. Just a cold job waiting for me. Literally, because fucking hell.

On the one hand, I like the cold. On the other hand I am being sent into a Frostpunk crossover world. One that was crossing over, or being invaded rather, by a version of the abyss that played by D&D 3.5 rules and was seemingly, based on some of the limited Intel being shared with me, a failed attempt to bring the world into the abyss. Likely not entirely on purpose, given the nature of the failure, but not sure how exactly to check. Still, good news, I'm getting the dungeons and dragons budget, , which was both good and worrying.

Good in that it was a number of points. Annoying in that there were some required purchases and I was only getting level one, so needed to grind like mad. That, and I could not buy a Waifu until I had completed my first world. Which was fair, but at the same time annoying as I had some... ideas. Not enough to be called plans, just some ideas. Between that and some of the mandatory purchases... well, I would be able to get my dick wet if I really wanted to.

Captain Jonathan Maxwell

Well, the situation was, in the words of his forefathers, right properly buggered. Between whatever it was those Sierra Club fellows claim to have done, due to fears that the use of coal was eventually going to render the Earth a burning hell. So, according to a few of the members and according to their fantastical claims, they took advantage of several naturally occuring events to try and prevent the looming 'global warming' disaster by means of mystic rituals. By replacing it with a frozen catastrophe apperantly that would see them freeze to death instead of burn. If the starvation and thirst did not kill them first.

To be entirely honest, he was pondering if they were making it up to volunteer to killed do there were less mouths to feed and the resources they possessed handed to those in need. An odd sort of story, but then again they were academics, a rather more flighty and odd sort compared to honest and solid engineers. But, as he looked over options, and the fact that the generator was cold and dead with a lack of the infrastructure that was supposed to be there, or it was otherwise buried under the snow. There were the suggestion of ruins, but this was not the safe haven they had assumed.

Which is why the fact that his men were escorting a stranger to be... odd. One that was not bothered by the cold, despite wearing only what appeared to be a business suit. One who appeared fresh and not gaunt in the least, but instead was almost as fresh as if he stepped out of a warm bath. He was smiling and seemed to have no fear, even as he was escorted by two large men, good with their hands and clubs. "So. Who are you?"

Was it a touch rude? Perhaps, but these were far from civil days in many respects, even as the man inclined his head. "Good morn. I am but a simple merchant of the esoteric. A student of the deeper mysteries as well one could say." There was something about the eyes that seemed dark and knowing. Something cruel beyond human measure as horns grew from his skull, but made him appear no less the gentleman. "As for a name? I will not give over my actual one, that is rather foolish for those like me, but I you may refer to me as..."

The devil paused a moment. "Well, Mercantor works as well as anything else right now."

The name was unassuming, as we looked at it, the creature smiling as the men who were larger, and if it obeyed the laws of nature, which it very well may not, stronger than the fiend with fear and unease, stepping away from it. "As for why I am here? To answer your unspoken question I'm here to make a deal. After all," that dark gleam promised terrible things, terrible but grand. "No souls required, but it seems to me that your people need something to deal with the chill?"

Lore of the new world, New Salem

Magic is the blessing and curse of the new age, and no place in the world is untouched by it. And even in the nations were the practice of magic is strictly punished by death, one can find those who practice it. But one of the capitals of the worlds magic is New Salem. While many city states based around a generator site tend to be strict followers of Scientific Order, New Salem was forced to take a different route in its early days due to arriving at a dead generator, it's supplies pilfered for other projects.

It was there that they encountered the Fiend Mercantor and where the first warlocks gained a boon of cold comfort, blunting the chill around themselves. While more deals and boons would follow, including healing magic. Between these, control of the snow and ice and the transformation of the generator into a mystical pillar, one can safely state they were the birthplace of modern demon worship in a way that was not pushing others in front of oneself to be devoured last.

While Hogwarts remains the premier location for those to be trained as sorcerers, harnessesing the power in their blood, the Grand Academy boasts the most extensive magical curriculum in the world. This and driving off several white wyrms has cemented them as a dominant power in their region of the arctic.