By the time Ill Omen retired to their rooms, night had long since fallen. The Witch fell into bed with enough liquor in her system to make walking a staggering challenge. The Neoform half-carried its sister to her bed before it made for its own quarters to rest up. The Alchemyst had left for his room several hours before the rest, but from the sounds that slipped through the Vhenari’s door, it was clear that he was concocting potions and likely a few gadgets for the days to come. The Soulforged remained in the living room, simply sitting on the couch, thinking quietly to himself. Sin didn’t get any sleep. The immortal found himself spending the night hugging the car’s toilet as the bad tofu revolted against his sensitive digestive system. Sin knew his retching and gagging could be heard in neighboring cars. While he felt sorry for the discomfort he caused, the Immortal had long since come to terms with the fact that he was often such a source of displeasing results.
Sin finished dry-heaving just in time for the caravan’s comm system to crackle to life with an announcement of their arrival at Conan’s Fall settlement. Sin stepped from the bathroom, wiping the bile from his lips with a stained sleeve. The Soulforged looked up from his interlaced hands to give the immortal an irritated look. “You finally done?”
“Mhmm,” Sin grunted in a tired and pained confirmation.
The caravan slowed to a jarring halt that sent Sin staggering around the room. As Sin lost his footing, the door in front of him opened, and the Witch stepped out, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Sin fell into the Witch with flailing arms, almost sending her toppling back into her own room.
In a reflex response, the Witch shoved Sin away and took a battle-ready stance. When she realized who had fallen on her, her stance relaxed, and she massaged her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. “Sin, my dude, you puke like a troll that tried to swallow a cow whole.” She gave a tired sigh. “You didn’t help my hangover in the slightest.”
“That’s your own fault,” the Soulforged said with irritation without looking up at the Witch.
“Hey!” Vex retorted. “If your stalkers jumped you and got run off, you’d drink like a merperson too.”
The Soulforged gave an irritated grunt. “I would if I could. Not that I can.”
“Don’t bitch about your state, Metal Man,” the Witch said as her creature scampered up to the woman and weaved between her legs like an affectionate cat. “If Willow had caught my punch like she did yours, I wouldn’t have a hand anymore.”
“Some win,” the Soulforged said in a sour voice. “I can take the hits, but I can’t enjoy the wins.”
“Well, maybe if you hadn’t gone murder-happy and gotten locked up, you’d be happy,” the Witch sniped, even as she moved to lean against a wall with her arms folded.
As the Witch spoke her snide comment, the Alchemyst stepped from his room, bright-eyed and lashing-tailed. He shot the Witch a scolding look. “Just because he made mistakes does not mean you can prod him like some cruel beast master.”
The Witch raised her hands in a ‘what can I do’ fashion. “I’m not the one who screwed the beast and got bit. Both of you trogs did that to yourselves. Do bad things, win bad prizes.”
The Alchemyst stepped through his doorway with his pack slung over one shoulder. “You make these statements like you have never ‘screwed the beast’,” the vhenari made air quotes with his free hand as he walked past the Witch to rest his bag on the coffee table before the couch.
“I’ve never screwed up that bad,” the Witch said with a smirk and shrug. “And how are you so awake? It’s like six in the morning.”
The Alchemyst pulled a corked beaker from his lab coat and flicked it toward the Witch. She caught it with one hand and eyed the gray fluid within. “What’s this dreck?”
“Energy potion,” the Vhenari said simply. “Gives a spring to your step.”
The Weapon entered the living room, eyeing its sister with a patient but disapproving stare.
“Yeah… I’m good.” The Witch flicked the potion back at the Alchemyst, sending the beaker tumbling end over end. “I prefer good, old-fashioned coffee.” She turned and made for the door. “You joinin’ me, Tro?”
“Coffee,” the Weapon agreed before following a stride behind its sister.
Sin eyed the two as they left. He was tired of the Witch’s attitude and her pet sibling that followed along at her heels. The woman acted so superior despite the fact that the only two battles the lance had been involved in were her doing; first subduing a ravening of ghouls to collect the Weapon; then the Witch’s hunters assaulted them. While he was cursed with luck so rancid it made others hate his mere presence, she had thrown the lance into more danger than he’d even caused inconvenient problems.
Sin rested his head in his hands. “Why must that woeful Witch be so tenaciously troublesome?”
The Alchemyst sat down beside Sin with a ‘Phwumph’ of displaced air and compressed cushions. “I suspect it is simply her nature.” He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling in thought. “We have only a fraction of her story, and what little she has shared is potent with trauma and abuse. Distilled pain, I dare say.” The Alchemyst offered the energy potion to the Immortal.
Sin took the potion with a grateful nod, uncorked the stopper, and threw back the beaker to swallow the whole thing in a single swig. He passed back the empty beaker. As the potion took effect, it was not what Sin expected. His head began to spin and swim. The Immortal’s eyelids grew weighty. His head fell back, and he felt sleep take him.
Before darkness and nightmares took Sin’s mind, he heard the Knyght asked “What did you give him?”
“A sleeping draught.” Answered the Alchemyst.
“But you offered it to Vex first,” the Knyght pointed out.
“She needs the sleep… It also keeps her from being caustic to us.”
As the darkness consumed Sin’s mind, he heard the Soulforged cackling in amusement.
Sin’s mind flashed from memory to memory. Each lasting only for a fraction of a second, but feeling like the length of a mortal life. Pain, fear, panic, hate, dread, misery, loss, suffering, betrayal, loneliness, and madness assailed Sin. He thrashed in his sleep, lashing limbs around blindly, seeking help, seeking hope, and finding none.
Sin shot awake with a shriek of pain and panic. His eyes shot around the room, scanning for threats. He found the Alchemyst and Knyght staring at him. The one expression Sin could read was the look of shock on the Alchemyst’s ratty face.
“How are you awake?” the Vhenari asked in bafflement.
Sin groaned as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Potions have little lasting effect on me. My baffling body can’t even fulfill my intent for intense inebriation. Only particularly potent poisons can influence me enough to get dutifully drunk.”
The Alchemyst’s eyes gleamed with intrigue. “Poison, you say.”
“Without a doubt,” Sin said, massaging his brow with one hand.
The Witch and her Weapon walked back in, both carrying paper cups of steaming coffee. The Weapon also carried a large paper grocery bag. Rolling from the bag was the rich scent of baked bread. Sin’s head shot up at the scent.
The Weapon threw piping hot bread rolls at both Sin and the Alchemyst. Sin’s roll flew between his steepled hands to land perfectly in his lap. Sin looked from the fresh bread to the Weapon. The perfect accuracy of the throw was not missed by the Immortal.
The roll thrown at the Alchemyst bounced off his pointed nose before landing in his cupped hands. That Weapon had certainly earned its Deadeye class and the Adroit class. Perfect spatial awareness and unerring bodily control. Sin had seen the Thing performing advanced trick shots throughout the brawl with the Gilded Rose lance. It could perform perfect calculations in an instant to bounce shots off walls to hit weak points on the enemy. Sin also hadn’t missed the Weapon shooting non-lethal trick shots into the bystanders, forcing them to flee before any could be killed.
The Weapon held a strange value for life that baffled Sin. It was a soulless thing. It should hold no love for anything. Yet it protects its sister as if it truly loved her. It hadn’t attempted any kill shots.
The Alchemyst raised his roll. “Why the kindness?”
The Witch jabbed a thumb at her sibling. “His idea. I couldn’t say no. There’s no passing up orcish bread.”
Sin took his roll and dug into it like a starved dog, devouring it in moments. As irritating as the Witch was, she had good taste. Orcish bread was world famous. After the first orcish people discovered baking from the dwarves, the complex carbohydrates changed the fledgling culture, and they quickly became artisans of the baked arts.
Sin was baffled by the Weapon's act of kindness. Why? Why would something with no soul think of kindness toward others?
Sin looked to the Knyght, finding its body posture depressed, its eyes giving the floor a sad gaze. Sin felt pain for the incomplete thing. Once, a mortal man, stripped of anything mortals could enjoy through their bodies. He knew that pain. Sin had been denied every mortal pleasure for his whole existence. He could almost never enjoy good food. He had never been touched by the pleasures of drink or drug. He would never know the release in a woman’s arms. This broken soul in a machine had at least known those pleasures when he was flesh and blood. Sin didn’t know if that was better or worse.
Architallis had plans. The plan would need to be set in motion before they even left the caravan. There was much to do and not enough time. He needed ingredients for a truth potion, information on their target, and what he was aiming for. They also had to get Vex to safety, not that she would listen without a good reason, and even then, maybe not.
The Vhenari was already typing up a list on his therra, or materials and items he would need for the mission. The Alchemyst had stocked up on reagents at every settlement they had stopped in since his release, and it still wasn’t enough. What he truly needed was a shop full of ingredients and reagents just for himself. However, he was stuck with the bag provided to him by the Adventuring Society Operations Bureau. The bag, which was, at that time, eighty percent full of gear and components, both mechanical and alchemical.
Architallis would need a sizable amount of supplies for this manhunt. He hadn’t been on a manhunt in some time, and he wanted little to do with the task, but this was the task set out before the team. ‘The whole process is distasteful, but necessary.’ The Vhenari recited those words mentally, in a fruitless attempt to make him feel better about the task.
The Alchemyst packed up his bag with hurried hands while the rest of the team bickered over which orcish bread was the best. Architallis eyed the group one by one, mentally calculating how to proceed. He abruptly stood. “We should disembark and get to work.”
Vex finished her coffee with an energetic throwback of the paper cup before casually tossing it into the trash can in the corner. “That sounds like a plan to me.”
Architallis moved for the door, shouldering his pack as he went. The lance funnelled from the car with their equipment in short order. The Alchemyst led the procession even as he spoke back to Vex over his shoulder. “Miss Vexxenna, would you allow me to take the lead for a day or two?”
“Don’t call me that, and I don’t-” Vex started, but Architallis cut her off. He knew that calling her ‘Miss’ and her full first name was enough to bait the woman.
“Excellent!” Architallis said with clearly false enthusiasm. “Miss Vex, I need you, your brother, and Alex to take our van to the west side of the settlement to find us lodgings. After you find housing for us, I need you, Vex, and Trouble to stay on site to keep safe,” he jabbed a thumb at the Soulforged. “Alex, after those two acquire us rooms, I need you to do some shopping. I’ll send you a list later.”
“What about myself?” Sin asked, pressing a hand to his chest.
“You, my dear friend, will be coming with me. I will be needing a distraction later this evening.” Architallis said with a smirk that no one else could see.
“And what exactly will you be doing?” Vex demanded.
“I will be gathering information on our target, his goals, and plans,” Architallis said as they stopped before vehicle storage.
Vex planted her feet in front of the hatch to the storage, folded her arms, and gave Architallis a piercing glare. “You think you can just hijack control of this operation from me.” She stated. “Why shouldn’t I just put a bullet in your chest and walk away?”
Architallis gave a weighty sigh through his nose. “Please, just follow the instructions. I have some experience with man hunts. I am merely arranging our schedule so that we can complete as much as possible in as little time as possible.”
“Why west side?” Trouble asked, referring back to the instructions for gaining housing on the west side.
“Simple. The Rose lance was trailing behind, meaning that they could enter the settlement from the same gate as us. Alternatively, they could suspect that we would want to be as far from the south gate as possible, meaning they would circle the settlement to enter from the north gate. Thus, somewhere equidistant from both gates would be optimal.”
Vex rolled her tongue piercing over her teeth, clearly displeased that Architallis had a valid point. “Fine,” she bit off the word like a bitter piece of fruit. “But we are having a chat about this later.” Vex spun on a heel, her mess of hair fanning wide as she turned. “Come on, boys. We’ve got dreck that needs doing.” With that, Vex, Tro, and Alex entered the vehicle storage.
Architallis gave another weary sigh before turning to continue down the caravan to exit through a side hatch, Sin following. Conan’s Fall was a settlement of brick and synth-crete structures. The buildings he could see ranged from two to five stories in height. Many of the doors and windows were decorated with beast skulls from local fauna and even a few monsters.
The large majority of people who walked, ran, and staggered through the streets were vhenari. Just at a glance, Architallis noticed mostly various forms of wolf and hound vhenari, with a sprinkling of rat, bear, stag, and even a few boar vhenari. Beyond vhenari, he also saw the standard amount of humans you could find in any diverse settlement.
Humans were likely the least remarkable of the sophic species on an individual basis. They had shorter lives, lacked strength compared to many other species, even ceangar, and a low mage birth rate. The only thing humans had above any other sophic species was their maddening birthrate. Humans procreated more than rabbits, and they grew into adults faster than most other species. The humans got plenty of discrimination from many other peoples. However, one hard-learned lesson many figure out about humans is that they are pack animals. Cause enough trouble for one human, and suddenly that orcish bully is face-to-face with an angry mob. It seemed everyone forgot just how critical humans were during the Scale War, when they were first admitted into the ranks of the sophic species. Humans filled most of the desperately needed roles during the war against the dragons and dracose.
Architallis shook his head free of those ruminations. He had tasks to attend to. As he and Sin passed through the streets, the Alchemyst was the target of countless glares and muttered slurs. Even if most of the populous was vhenari, Architallis was still a freak. No rat-man should be as tall as an orc or a dezzar dracose. Rat vhenari weren’t supposed to grow taller than ceangar, averaging about three feet. But he was seven feet tall, and almost at eye level with the bear vhenari he passed.
Sin staggered and stumbled along behind the Alchemyst, pressing through the crowd. Each person he passed shoulder-checked him or put their foot in his path, knowingly or not. Architallis barely paid the Immortal any mind as he sought out the nearest alley out of sight from the streets. When the Alchemyst found a nook that would fit his needs, he slipped in, unshouldered his pack, and pulled his box of gene samples from it. The alley was littered with discarded refuse ranging from expired food to dirty needles, and even one instance of a dire rat the size of a medium dog rummaging through a toppled trash can.
Sin followed into the alley as Architallis produced his splicer syringe and filled it with wolf vhenari genetics. “Such a strange device,” Sin commented. “What is its purpose?”
Architallis ignored the Immortal as he rolled up his left sleeve and slid the needle into the crook of his arm. He depressed the plunger, and the reaction was instant. Architallis’s form rippled from the point of the needle. Scales and teeth sloughed off to be replaced with thick fur. His original fur darkened from snow white to a mottled black and brown, growing longer and thicker. His rat ears took on a distinctly pointed shape, and his snout reshaped into something more canine adjacent, if not completely canine.
“To my understanding, that is not the standard splicing process.” Sin said. “From what I have heard over the years since the act’s inception, the process requires an entire laboratory filled with complex devices.” Sin rubbed the back of his head as he thought about what he had just witnessed. “I additionally heard that in order to embody such a complete transition requires months or years of treatment.”
Architallis rolled his shoulders and neck, inciting a series of crunches. “That is the standard practice for splicing. But with the aid of this wondrous device, I can distill the entire process down to mere moments with a single injection.” He took a deep breath through his new sinuses, assaulted by the medley of city scents. The pungent aromas of motor oil, the ozone scent of expended myst, and the press of bodies stinking of sweat and excess. “Now, let us hurry along this process. We need to contact some of the local informants connected to the Deviant Information Network.”
Architallis moved back into the streets, blending in better than before, but still hulking for a wolf vhenari. As he walked, the Alchemyst utilized his therra, pulling up the LSN browser and quickly accessing the restricted Deviant Informant Database. With quick gestures, Architallis narrowed his search to the local settlement and the type of information needed. He found himself reading over a list of eight informants and their normal operating stations, where each could be found. Most were found at bars, taverns, or cafes.
The Alchemyst cross-referenced that database list with a map of the settlement and found the nearest informants. They were known as the Softstep Brothers; three rat vhenari who were stationed out of a local bar called Fanged Beast’s Brews. The bar wasn’t far from their present location, only a couple of streets away .
As the two walked, they passed an alchemy and herb shop as a customer left with a bag of something. Architallis walked past the doorway and was assaulted by the scents of expired herbs and ill-brewed potions. He most certainly would not be shopping there. But he would need to stop by a higher-quality shop after night fell.
Architallis led the way down several streets, Sin following along like a lost and hungry dog who’d been given scraps. Soon enough, the pair stood before the bar, its marketing an illusory image of a beast’s head somewhere between a wolf and bear snapping its jaws at the air before folding back on itself to shift into a glass of frothing and dark beer.
The Alchemyst gave the building's exterior a sceptical once-over. The structure was old, with a cracking foundation, dirty windows, and stained brick walls scrawled with graffiti. Architallis walked through the front doors, the hinges squealing like pigs at slaughter.
The interior matched the exterior closely. Bare and cracked brick walls framed the space. The tables were a mismatched collection, with four times the size of a hodgepodge of chairs. The room was thick with the scents of beer, harder liquors, and both raw and cooked meat. As the restroom door opened for someone to exit, the stench of bodily waste escaped. The noxious aroma was spread throughout the room by a series of low-hanging ceiling fans that wobbled and whined as they spun on.
Most of the bar seats were filled with carnivore vhenari; wolves, bears, a few weasels, and rats. Architallis scanned the room for his quarry. He quickly found the three rat brothers huddled in a far-back corner, nursing pints of something while they watched a holo-vid of some kind.
Architallis wove between the tables and seats as he closed in on his target. As he passed tables, he smelled meat-infused liquors and liquor-infused meats. Architallis didn’t drink, and yet the scents still made his mouth water. Before the Alchemyst’s most recent splice, he likely would’ve turned up his nose at the thought of raw meat laced with ceangar rum or dwarven vodka. Architallis was forced to remind himself that he didn’t drink. Not anymore.
Architallis reached his goal and pulled out a seat. The three rat brothers looked up from their video, glaring at him. The Alchemyst casually noticed that they were watching an AdRec. Architallis opened his mouth to start the conversation, only to be interrupted by a crash behind him. He looked over his shoulder to find that Sin had toppled a table, spilling three drinks and scattering three raw and saturated steaks across the grubby floor. The three Wolf Vhenari surrounding the toppled table shot to their feet, emitting threatening growls from deep in their throats. Sin, for his part, was wearing most of the drinks and a single steak missing a single, sharp-toothed bite.
“Hope you’re not with him,” said the leftmost Rat Brother.
Without answering the Rat-Man, Architallis pulled up his therra, accessed his cred-wallet, and flicked each of the three disgruntled Wolf-Men enough for two rounds of drinks and a fresh steak for each. The three’s eyes lit with their own Heads-Up Displays, notifying them of the payment. The three stopped growling; one grunted while another righted the table, and the third left for the bar, likely to collect a fresh round of drinks and food.
Architallis turned to give Sin a look of reprieve. “I think it best if you wait outside.” Without waiting to see if the Immortal followed his command, veiled as a request, the Alchemyst turned back to the Rat Brothers, resting his arm on the table. “Greetings, gentlemen. I am in need of some information that I hope you can provide.”
Hey everyone!! Sorry for the late post of this chapter. I went to post it Friday and found the whole chapter had been deleted and replaced with half of the previous chapter. Soooo... I had to rewrite it. Should things go well, I'll be posting the next chapter after this own around Friday or Sunday.