Emily smiled as the Travelers arrived, and showed off their magical prowess. They where certainly impressive, and Emily smiled at each display of power. She didn't feel envious though, her current powers where considerable, and that is what she liked most. The Travelers, as they called themselves, seemed diverse and interesting, but the one she liked the most was the Water girl best. Her mannerisms and dress set her widely apart from the other Travelers, and Emily smiled at her great enthusiasm. She thought all of the Golems would be mindless automatons but she was glad that wasn't the case.
"Good day, all of you. I have come to talk to you about a threat from my planet. I am Emily Kabal, the last...well, I can't exactly call myself surviving anymore. But, I am the last being from my home world. When the Keepers came, nobody was safe, and while we did not have a very large army, it would have mattered if we did. They where unstoppable juggernauts of destruction. I was one of their victims, killed by one of the Keepers and then my soul was snatched from my dying body, and forced into this vessel of magic. The keeper then got himself obliterated and I escaped, trying to avenge my family by fighting another Keeper. It didn't work" She told them, pacing softly.

"The keeper did not kill me, but threw me into an icy hell where he thought I would perish at the hands of the creatures there. I didn't, though. I managed to trick one of the lesser warlords into getting sacrificed to summon a Sung Spirit, and later gave the entire realm over to Surtr's Flames. Those two became my allies, and I hosted them within my, while we looked for a way to get out. I first tried to return home, but found only debris and nothingness waiting for me on the other side, so instead I came here. I was drawn to this place, and I believe it was the call of the Keepers that did such. I don't want such a fate to be repeated here, so I have come offering my aid to take the Keepers down forever" she finished, looking at the Travelers, for their reply.

The assembled six sat in respectful silence as Emily explained the looming threat. Except for Diver their gaze never deviated from the speaker, though clearly some held more interest than others. Salvadore fixed his sad gaze on Emily, either unhappy with what she was saying, or unhappy that he had to hear her out in the first place. Sen-sen treated the newcomer with civility, but nothing bordering cordiality. If black-eyed Marowit felt anything as a result of Emily's anecdote, she gave off no impression of it. Elvilika and Udo Koro Kai seemed, as was usual, in accord: they had nothing better to do, so they bestowed upon Emily their undivided attention. Meanwhile, Diver alternated between an encouraging show of interest and wistful looks toward the flooded Pearl District.

When Emily's piece was done, the various Journeymen took a moment to consider. Salvadore was the first to break the silence. “Marowit, can you confirm that Emily here is not among the living?”

Marowit turned her humorless, owl-like gaze upon her fellow Traveler. “My domain is space, not spirit. I believe I have said this before.” At that, Salvadore looked away pointedly, but whether he was upset at himself for forgetting or at Marowit for contradicting him, it was difficult to say. Kai was quick to pick up the leftover slack. “A very impressive tale. Were we told more of them, we might have cause to doubt, but as it is we have little enough to occupy us. I for one believe that Emily is telling the truth, and if these Keepers run afoul of Monolith, we may be in trouble. Far better to sort out the problem before it becomes a mess.”

Diver jumped in with her own two cents. “Yeah! Plus, these Keeper dudes might have all sorts of poison and heat magics that might ruin the waters! Offense is the best defense; let's teach these home-wreckin' sons-of-bitches what happens when you try to take over!”

Though it was difficult to tell, some of the Journeymen seemed surprised at Diver's outburst. Perhaps she did not usually act with such vehemence. Sen-sen replied, “Patience must be our guide. Even the largest boulder can be broken when rolled down a tricky slope, but planted firm it can stand thousands of years. The Cypriots -and their bodies of water- are not our concern. Keep in mind that we are nearly unable to act outside our own city, so little is our united power. Our only option would be to supply Emily with resources, and give her letters of recognition to show to any Travelers she might encounter on her quest. And that is providing we agree the Keepers to be an immediate threat.”

Salvadore called for a vote. Kai and Diver voted to help Emily, while Salvadore and Marowit voted against. Sen-sen abstained, preferring to impart his advice the best he could rather than make the decision, and Elvika didn't want to vote. “A perfect tie,” she whistled. “What shall we do now? Please tell me it's trial by combat.”

“Yay! Combat!” Diver squealed with a laugh. “How about me versus Marowit?”

When nobody responded, Elvilika shrugged. “Sure.”

Quicker than a flash, Marowit materialized in front of Diver and dealt her a backhand that sent the cloth-armored Traveler spinning over the edge back into the Pearl District, yelling, “wheeeeeee!”

Both Sen-sen and Salvadore put palms to their facemasks. Kai laughed out loud, and Elvilike could barely speak through her merriment. “Voting...” she gasped, “...to help Emily. Motion carried.”

“Looks like we'll have your back after all, little one.” Sen-sen removed himself from the Sestet and approached Emily, while Salvadore walked off in a silent huff. Elvilika and Kai resumed chatting, and Marowit was nowhere to be seen. “I can write your letters of recognition for you and take any preliminary orders for supplies. We can give you two automaton-pulled chariots to carry them in, and I know of one fellow Traveler who would be happy to join you on your endeavor.” He towered over the young woman, but his manner was surprisingly noble. “Come with me to the Aries Foundry and we'll find him.”

-=-=-

“What!?”

Lieutenant Bigley quailed. For a man so utterly hyped up a few seconds ago, needing to deliver a very important field report to his commander, he managed to be stunned into silence very quickly. Naturally, this only served to further inflame Dahlia's anger—an anger that neither suited her nor was normal for her. Luckily, Bigley found his tongue before Dahlia could let loose on him. “The bridge team is in full retreat! Mounted spearmen overwhelmed their position, just charging across the bridge. Raphael was impaled instantly, and Antony fell covering the others' retreat.”

The news wrought a fresh surge of rage from commander Dahlia. Antony had been a knight, heavily armored and backed up by years of experience. Losing him was a severe blow, but now was no time for an epitaph. “Take Bryony's Four and shift them to that side,” she growled. “If we cannot regain the bridge they'll have us trapped between two front and will crush us.” The only crushing done will be by you. Dahlia smacked her helmet to try and get rid of the voice, but it was persistent. She opened her eyes to make sure that Bigley had gotten the message and found him already halfway down the hill. After a moment of further analysis, Dahlia reluctantly realized that she had no choice but to do exactly what the voice wanted.

On foot, she raced to the front lines, despite the huge, polished mass of her new armor. “All of you minus Keto and Seward, shift to our lower flank to retake the bridge! Archers,” she said, referring to those she had left out of her former command, “Cover me.” Dahlia snapped down her helmet, felt the flow of strength through her body, and charged.

-=-

Ten minutes later the battle was decided. With the vast majority of Dahlia's forces focused on the bridge, that objective had fallen easily. The spear-toting cavalry was wiped out, though two more of Dahlia's men were sacrificed to do so. Meanwhile, with only two archers supporting her, Dahlia had held the front line against twenty foes. Encased in the Tower and wielding both a steel lance and a bundle of iron-tipped javelins, Dahlia was a whirling cyclone of death. Keto and Seward could hardly believe their eyes, and indeed, began to feel a little fear herself. In the end, the enemy had retreated instead of being scythed down like grain in autumn. When she walked between them, covered in blood but without a scratch on her, a simple “tell nobody” was enough to convince the archers that the commander of the Iron Brigade was a demon...and they were having trouble deciding whether that was a good or a bad thing.

Emily watched the Travellers various responses, one wishing for conformation that Emily was indeed no longer alive. But, the person asked didn't know how. Another put in that Emily was to be believed, which was nice, and then Diver exclaimed with a loud, heavy tone that she was against the 'homewrecking son-of-bitches' which seemed rather out of place. Another advised patience, and in the end the matter was set to a vote, which came out inconclusive.

Diver then suggested a trial by combat, and so Emily readied herself until she heard that it would be between the two Travellers. The trial was over very quickly, as Diver was slapped and thrown back to the district she so lovingly longed for. It was apparently a hilarious event, as all the Travellers began to show mirth in one way or another. Emily, was lost however, and so simply looked between them until one of the Travellers eventually voted for her as well, prompting them to start speaking about giving her material help, and letters. As if any of that could stop the Keepers when they brought their armies to bare.
"I do not wish to dismiss your kind offers" She told Sen-Sen, shaking her head softly. "But, Golems could build tirelessly for a hundred years, and the Keepers would destroy everything in a hundred days. I do not need resources, or letters. I need strength, and power to protect the world, to stand against the Keepers. I need to Host the Travellers, and add their strength to my own. Then, I could begin to make Monolith a place that could fend off an assault from the Keepers. Ruinc spreads, Mana Mines, Spirit-Hosted animals and constructs. If this world is to survive, I need to have to Focal power to create a....Heart. I am still unsure of the concept, I only heard it a few times from my creator. But, it gives a such as myself power to create, to summon, and in my case, to defend"

Shortly after Naoto had entered the jungle, he stopped the family from going any further. The family had the question of 'why?' on the tips of their tongue, but were too afraid to ask it. They wouldn't have to, as Naoto explained it to them anyway. "We're not done yet. I need supplies first. I know taking supplies from within the town will most likely bring all the guards upon us, and I am not capable of handling an entire army. Instead, I'd rather us go to an easier location. Tell me, father of this poor family, is there any other place we might find what I am looking for?"

"Y-yes..." the fathered stammered. He was ready to say 'sir' or 'master'... but neither of those felt right saying out loud. Naoto didn't seem to notice the lack of them anyway, so he continued. "There's a small warehouse slightly north, just along the trees. It's where we store some excess supplies, or things that haven't been used in years. It's also where the lumberjacks first put their day's work before heading home. I don't think anyone has used it in awhile, however, so it should be clear." the father offered up his information. The father knew there was no way of getting out of this. Perhaps later, after he has built up trust, later he could perform an escape plan. An escape would never work without trust, however. Or a distraction.

"Very good. Lead us there, father of poor family, lead us and given that we are propitious, your family shall be cared for better than the rest." Naoto lightly commanded. Naoto knew he needed trustworthy family capable of leading the rest of his future workers. Showing pure anger towards this family now will only convince them to hate Naoto. And being hated by his own people would lead to a revolt the second an opportunity showed itself. Naoto instead would use this first family, to help pull in the others when the time came. And after that, to help hold them in their place after they had been lured.

The father of the family lead the way through the thickness of the jungle, even despite they were so near the edge that they could jump out of it. Any figures with keen eyes inside the town might spot them making their way through the jungle, but exactly what would leave them to wonder. After several minutes of walking, the warehouse was within sight. They all exited the jungle, and made the rest of their way in the open. "I thought you said this hasn't been used lately?" Naoto asked the father, as he noticed a light coming from the front doors facing to the west, as they approached from the south side. "Well... there's always a guard or two... thought-" the father continued, but Naoto held up his hand as they continued their walk. "It'll be handled." Naoto said with a grin, rearranging his sword sitting on his shoulder. The mother gasped, but the father calmed her. He told her there was nothing they could do.

Once the family reached the south side, they all lined up against the wall, with Naoto at the corner, ready to peek around the corner and catch a glimpse of what was casting the light. "Why don't we just go in and ask them for the supplies, and you stay out here?" the oldest son suggested, standing closest to Naoto. Naoto peeked his head around the corner, and saw two wide doors, one left slightly open, but just enough to let the light shine through. "Do you think me for a fool? Besides, even if I let you do that, do you think they would let you walk out here with everything I need?" Naoto grunted at the young boy. The boy sighed, looking back towards his father. The father gave him a thumbs up, signaling he liked his idea.

While the boy was looking at his father, Naoto stepped around the corner, while stretching his hand backwards and grabbing the oldest son by his shirt. "Hey!" he barely yelled. Naoto walked to the doors, pushing the right door open a tad more to fit through, then shoved the son through the doors before stepping back and hiding behind the closed door. The father was now peeking around the corner where Naoto had been, his eyes wide in in obvious fear. Naoto waved him back, who obediently obeyed.

"He- hey, Tybalt, behind you!" one guard called to the other from the other side of the card table. There were only the two of them sitting there, playing some game while they were supposed to be on duty. The one named Tybalt turned his head around, caught sight of the boy, then bolted upright, knocking is chair over. He grabbed the lantern off the table, and told his partner to draw his sword with the nod of his head. "What do you think you are doing here, boy?" Tybalt asked. "I- uhh... I..." the boy said, raising his hands slowly in the air and backing up. "Don't do that son!" Tybalt's partner warned, "Come back in here and tell us why you're here!" they told him as he stopped in the doorway.

"I- came here... for supplies. I'm here with a demon." the boy finally managed to get out. The two guards turned to each other, and let out a laugh. "Supplies, and a demon? That's a new one!" Tybalt's helper laughed, lowering his sword in the process. "No no, it's true! He's standing right outside these doors here now, and he has my family out there! If you don't do something, he's going to come in here and force us to take everything back to his home or whatever!" the boy now pleaded. "Boy, boy, calm down. Where are your parents? For real." Tybalt asked the young man. "I'm telling the truth! You have to do something!" the boy continued, taking one step forward, before Naoto's hand reached in through the door, and pulled him back outside.

Naoto, standing back where he was with the child, shoved him backwards behind him, to clear him of the doorway. "Hey, boy, what kind of trick was that?" the one guard who had pulled his sword called out the door. Both men opened the door a little more before stepping out together. The one with the sword on the side with Naoto, and the other on the side with the family. The family's father still had his head around the corner, and waved lightly with a bad smile to Tybalt. He didn't know what else to do. The other guard, had turned his head slowly to see Naoto standing there over him. "T-t-t-tybalt." he said, dropping his sword to the ground. Tybalt didn't pay notice, as he pulled out his own sword, and made his way to the father slowly, who backed away in the attack. "T-t-t-tybalt!" the other guard called.

Naoto dropped his own sword, crackling his knuckles slowly. The guard didn't even turn and run. He just stood there, bending over backwards. Naoto said, "Boo." very lightly, before quickly grabbing him, spinning him around in place for extra fun, then bringing his elbow down on the guards head quickly enough with enough force to knock over a horse. The guard instantly slammed into the ground, notifying Tybalt of what had happened. Tybalt quickly turned around, but at the sight of Naoto, dropped his own sword, and the lantern. He stepped back a few feet, before turning on his heels and bolting for the town. He waved his hands in the air and called out, but it would be of no use this far from the town. He would have to continue his sprint for full minute before being within earshot. If the guards at town were paying any more attention than he had been.

Naoto quickly scooped up the guard and the sword, before tossing them a distance away from the door. The whole family winched at the limp body flying through the air, before landing with the loud noise of his sword bouncing off his own chainmail and a few feet more. The fire from the lantern was dropped close enough to the warehouse's walls, that some of it was slowly about to catch. Not yet, as the fire has to build up enough before then. Naoto grabbed the oldest son, before shoving the doors open wider and pushing him in. He motioned the rest of the family around the fire, and into the warehouse behind their son.

After several long minutes of decisions and debates, Naoto had managed to get the entire family to carry things. The son had a wheel barrel, filled with various boards, nails, and small hammers. The father had a barrel filled with other tools for shaping stone, and then some more boards as well. The two youngest children carried a few big heavy pickaxes in their arms after having cried for a short while. The mother followed behind with a sack of food and other supplies. She was only hoping the food they had taken wasn't already going bad.

Naoto lead the family out of the warehouse and back into the jungle, but not before eyeing the fire that had grown and started to damage the stability of the warehouse. He used his powers to control the flames, gathering them all up into a massive fireball. He then hovered it over him as he made his way towards the jungle. He looked out in the direction of the town, and saw several figures with lights in the distance. Naoto and his family would be long gone before they arrived.

"Fee Fi Fo Fum... I smell the blood of an sickened man!" Bal'Tazor gurgled, as it was walking through the lush green fields of Cyprus with the intent of bringing ruin and rot towards this overly lush land. Every step he took left the ground and grass with less of a light green hue, and more of a darker shade as his blackened blood and spoiled bile spilled through the large holes surrounding his obese stomach. Bal'Tazor knew that he was weak in this state, the land was not as it was when he was ravaging through Cyprus, doing whatever he pleased until those pesty humans came and somehow managed to drag him back where he once was spawned. Bal'Tazor couldn't even tell where he was, long ago he left signs all around the land to tell him where he was, but the piles upon piles of bones were long removed giving him not the faintest idea on where he is currently located. However, Bal'Tazor knew one thing, if these humans are like their ancestors from long ago, then they should be easy enough to conquer as Bal'Tazor was once in the same situation when he was first summoned thousands of years ago. The great monstrosity smiled at the thought of seeing these humans wither and writhe in his pure disease, but that would happen later as he first needed to find some place to infect.

Hours of walking seemed to be tiring for this greater demon, Bal'Tazor was pretty slow and he had no idea on where he was actually going at the moment... He would only know one person that would know the land with the back of their hands, but they were long banished before him and rather hated their smug looking faces. The fat beast was getting tired quite quickly and he knew that he needed to rest soon. Bal'Tazor's kind never really ate or slept much, but when he was ravaging through the land, he would gluttonously devour any diseased corpse inside of his way to keep his flow of pestilence and pus going, but it is sadly starting to slow down with the low amount of disgusting fluids entering his body. Bal'Tazor stabbed his mighty axe into the ground, make the surrounding land almost shriek in pain and the greater demon soon sat upon the ground, his disfigured body making some sort of splurging noise from somewhere around his body and the ground shaking slightly to anybody nearby to feel it, the mighty plague lord needed to rest.

Bal'Tazor did not know how long or even when his eyes felt tired, but he stirred once he heard the noise of some cart screech upon the dirt. The unclean one opened his one bulbous eye to find some terrified human carrying a wagon full of supplies heading to somewhere, all the monster could do was smile, showing the rotted teeth and insects crawling through the putrid black hole that things would even consider a mouth. The human screamed in terror and the horse did the same, both having the same idea in getting far away from the Bal'Tazor and quickly left the smiling greater demon. "My reign of terror shall rear its ugly face once again to this land and I shall be the reaper," Bal'Tazor laughed out, spewing bloated maggots and other slimy insects onto the ground. The daemon soon started to stand on its stubby feet, and started to follow the tracks idiotically left by the panicked carriage driver who would lead him to his first place to show his great love for disease.

The enormity of what Emily requested was not lost upon Sen-sen, but he understood immediately. No attempts to seem more sagelike, no chewing the scenery or trying to make sure he had heard correctly—this Traveler was straight to the point. “You are effectively asking to take over the Monolith, to rule it in place of the Journeymen. Certainly to outsiders we may seem a bit...quirky, but I assure you we have governed well. I suspect that I need not launch into a mantra of how long our city has stood and how many perils we've overcome. I might as well tell you that, as of our Chronicler's latest report, we are the most prodigious manufacturing center in Cyprus.”

Now, Sen-sen was still. He and Emily had almost reached the end of the short bridge that led to the Sestet before they had stopped. “You say that you don't need resources or letters, which would have gained you allies. Allies are what fight wars, and resources are what wars are fought with. Strength comes from the sharpness of swords, the payloads of ballistae, and the might of magic. Power comes from those you have influence over. If you wish to use our city as a base of operations, fine. We never turn down someone seeking shelter, for the costs of living here are inherent. If you have new avenues of labor, so be it. Labor is what sustains this city; it is what our Workers do. We already have more industry than we do outputs for it, so a cause for it to be useful will be welcomed...as a suggestion. However, you cannot 'host' the Travelers. Workers are bound to Monolith in order to stay alive, a physical link. When a Worker becomes a Traveler the link is only mental. Travelers are free to wander the world, and all of them do. Some keep contact with us, like our Chronicler. Some return to Monolith to take positions as teachers or guardsmen. Some cut all ties and are never seen again, pursuing their regained memories.”

“Regardless, Travelers are spread across the planet.” Sen-sen held up his hands. “Uniting them is an impossible task even for the Journeymen, and the only authority higher than us in this city is a silent one. We have hundreds of thousands of Workers in Monolith, but fewer than a hundred Travelers. To be sure, they are warriors unlike anything else on Cyprus, with enchanted bodies and magic that easily rivals the strength -if not the versatility- of human mages and demons alike. But they are only a small part of the whole, and the whole is not organized. Monolith is not like the empires of Cyprus. It is like a nest. A world unto itself, in which incredible things can grow and take wing.”

Sen-sen bowed. “Forgive me, my eloquence is likely boring you to tears. The bottom line is, we will work for you, and you may construct your 'Heart' in our city, but you cannot rule us, and uniting the Travelers spread thin across the planet is out of the question.”

He looked to the side, and seemed surprised to discover that Salvadore, Kai, and Elvilika were all watching. They had come up, quietly but not attempting to be stealthy, while Sen-sen spoke. At a loss for words, Sen-sen bowed to them as well, then returned his focus to the little lady he had addressed.

Emily nodded, listening to Sen-Sen. He seemed to be under the idea that once hosted inside Emily, he would lose himself. Who he was, and what made him.
"You are mistaken, in your believe that I would rule over you. I do not take command of the spirits I host. I...how do I explain this" she muttered, starting to pace for a second before Surtr took matters into his own hands, and turned on Sen-Sen with eyes aflame. Looking closely, it was actually possible to see a small flame burning in Emily's eyes.
"We are not ruled!" Emily boomed, in a voice far to deep and powerful to have been produced by a woman. "We exist alongside this young one, we advise, observe, and lend our power. But, we still return our Self, our Thought, and our Being. We are not merely power in a jar. We are her organs, her skin, her very body!". Then, the flame in her eyes went out, and Emily blinked a few times, the her eyes returning to the hauntingly beautiful emerald they were.

"Well...Surtr kinda said it for me. While the Mistress can request control over my, Surtr is a Royal Sung Spirit, so he can take command when he desires. If you were to all host inside me, it would be a unified vessel of power. And that, is a way you can make up for each individual lack of versatility, while remaining yourself. The Mistress told me that being there is a room, and each soul hosted has a presence in the room. You will not lose any ability to rule your city, or talk amongst yourselves, and I can not force my way into any of your minds, nor do I learn all you have learned when you come. Surtr proved that one when he pulled out that Flying trick of his. I...will understand if you wish to remain separate, and I will leave you to your devices. I just wished to portray that you would not lose nearly as much as you think you would" Emily then looked to the rest of the Travelers, and smiled. "I know it is a difficult thing I ask, and I do not wish to force any one Traveler to do something they do not. So, I would like to ask every Traveler that is available their own, individual opinion about the matter"

Surtr's outburst marked an ever-so-slight change in the attitudes of the assembled Travelers. Sen-sen, previously so content to stand right by Emily's side, retreated several steps, and the Journeymen who held domain over snow and ice -Kai and Elvilika, respectively- also flinched. The remainder of the young spirit-wielder's exposition entered restless ears, and when she finished, it was Kai who replied rather than Sen-sen. "You need not do such a thing. You can ask any Traveler the question 'for the good of the world, will you let me keep your spirit inside me?' and the answer will be the same. You might be thinking, how can Udo Koro Kai be so sure? The answer is this. Who we are does not matter. It is what we do. Each of us was reborn in this city without memories of our previous life. It wasn't until we became Travelers, which takes a very long time, mind you, that our memories were restored. Some of us decided to honor the past, by retaking our names in life and brooding over them constantly..." at this point, he flashed a meaningful look at Salvadore, who was looking at the noontime sun far above.

Elvilika took it upon herself to keep up the tempo of the speech in a way that did not deride any fellow Journeymen. "But most of us realize that we've been given a special chance, an opportunity for complete freedom. In a way, Diver is the wisest of us all. In her past life, Diver was a queen, some centuries ago before her soul was plucked from the aether by Salvation and bound to a Worker's husk. When she became a Traveler, all the memories returned. All the love of youth, all the hardship of both marriage and rule, all the pain of war, and finally the desperation that preceded the moment she was executed by the marauder who conquered her. Rather than dwelling on who she was, however, she transitioned completely to what her freedom allowed her to do--to revel in the joy that water brought her. We all have our stories, but they would be superfluous. If we were to be hosted inside you, to keep every ounce of ourselves locked in a room, unable to do anything but speak without vying against your other spirits for control of your body...it would be anathema."

At that moment, the ground began to rumble. The pressure and low noise persisted for only a few seconds, and following them came a broad, deep chiming sound from the general direction of up. The assembled Journeymen all started as if they had been shocked, then settled knowingly. Salvadore's words came in a slight accent, thrilling his r's, but his tone was one of matter-of-fact professionalism. "Providence has bestowed upon us another Blessing. In moments the white light will wash over Monolith and replenish the spirits of all the Workers." He fixed his sharp gaze on Emily, treating her to the permanent grimace etched onto his face. "I cannot say if it will affect you; to my knowledge it has never failed to affect a living thing it touches, but you are not exactly living. Perhaps when the holy light dies down you will have a hand made of opal, who knows. But if you let it affect you, you will be clued into the spiritual network that binds all Workers to the city, and then if you sojourn to the acropolis of Monolith you may be able to consult with Providence and get an answer that pleases you more. Providence is a holy spirit too large for you to host, but if it so chooses, your spirits may work in partnership. Or you might allow Providence to 'host' yourself. Hard to say." The shadows nearby began to recede. Above the Sestet, the city was glowing: the stones, the bricks, the metal, the wood, the buildings, the streets, and the golems all shone with a radiant white luminescence. In seconds it would be upon the Sestet. "You offered us a choice, but now, it is time for you to choose," Salvadore concluded with an air of smug finality. "Remain touching the city and receive the Blessing of Providence, or call upon your spirit Surtr to fly."

Bal'Tazor gleefully followed the tracks of the supply wagon with high hopes that it was being lead to some town with low defenses, but high population. That would be the dream if that would ever happen, but for a demon like Bal'Tazor, nothing really went right for it as the world didn't really like its kind rampaging through the unsoiled land. However, Bal'Tazor knew one thing was coming from these tracks, and it was that this would lead the demon to something great and make this monster even more powerful than the current moment. As Bal'Tazor was stomping through the lush grass of the land, it was reminding itself of the great times that this demon used to have as Bal'Tazor was the last of the four greater demons in the physical realm and was able to do whatever it pleased, like eat dozens of diseased corpses and spit the crushed bones at the puny humans surrounding the disgusting beast. Bal'Tazor chuckled at the thought only to upchuck some slimy black mucus from somewhere in its body. The disgusting slob left the remaining mucus covering its mouth and kept smiling at the thought of causing some disease.

It didn't take long for beast to finally view the outskirts of the town, it seemed some village folk were ready for Bal'Tazor to attack their village, but it could smell the fear coursing through their veins. The great demon soon hefted its axe and rested the pestilent weapon upon the leathery shoulder. "Blisters, fevers, seeping sores. From those wounds your fester pours!" sang out through the rotted vocal chords of Bal'Tazor, it was a habit made by Bal'Tazor every time the demon would ever battle something, even the smallest villager that dares challenge the mighty Bal'Tazor. It sliced its great weapon onto the farmland, making the area of crops instantly wither and rot due to the pus entering the soil and the monster soon started to head for the mob of villagers, the axe dragging through the earth making a ear shattering noise. The villagers were clearly disheartened by the size and ugliness of the monster, however, something struck Bal'Tazor as the monster sniffed something... It smelled something quite, delightful. It was something that smelled old, but still as powerful as itself, and it was something that smelled foul. Bal'Tazor turned its pudgy head towards the villagers and the mighty beast projectiled vomited upon most of the mob, making sure that they would be too weak to leave this village, but the disease was too weak to actually kill humans on the spot like it used too. Bal'Tazor turned to the glorious scent and started to breath heavily as it had found a path which smelled similar, but was much weaker compared to the actual thing emitting the disgusting smell. Bal'Tazor started to lumber towards the direction of the smell, leaving the sickened villagers to fall upon the floor and the remaining healthy to decide weather to leave their sicken love ones, or take care of them with the possibility of both the Snatchers or Bal'Tazor coming back.

These slow legs have been walking for hours and sadly Bal'Tazor had nothing to eat making it rather weak and tired, but the scent of the new disease kept the monster going at full speed. The monstrous footsteps started to shake a nearby trench as Bal'Tazor was getting closer and closer with the scent getting stronger and stronger. The greater demon soon realized the scent was coming from some nearby ditch, what was this thing creating such a foul stench? Bal'Tazor started to slow itself down to a stop near the ditch and struck the ground with its massive weapon, making sure the axe would stay there. The demon was excited, bile and blood was streaming out of its open wounds and the intestines bulging out of its stomach was starting to quiver with anticipation. Bal'Tazor soon looked down upon the hole with a large smile, making insects living inside of the mouth fall out and squirm around the dead bodies of slaves and masters. Bal'Tazor soon looked upon the only sentient being inside of the hole and said to the Progenitor, "Hello, my child."

Dusky soot fell down upon Soros. The welcome smells of sulfur and ash were prevalent in the air, as they were everywhere within the Ashmarch. However, here they were accompanied with an even fouler stench...the reek of rotten flesh. They were nearing their destination, the great tower of Morvos the Necourge. You could always smell the decay of the undead that inhabited that place long before even setting eyes on the black fortress.

As they approached the bastion, a rattling sound became increasingly audible over the ever-present rumble of the nearby volcanoes. Soros topped a hill, his minions following on his heels with the shackled ice witch being dragged along over the ash on a makeshift sled of sorts. Upon reaching the top of that hill, the fortress come into view, its imposing walls a meager half mile away. The fortress took the form of a great castle hewed of basalt as dark as the soot from burning coal. A tall, looming spire reached up from the middle of the keep, extending towards the heavens like the bony finger of a dead man abandoned by the gods. The tower proper was made of glassy obsidian that shined ever so slightly from what dismal sunlight pierced the ash clouds above.

As in for the incessant, resounding rattling, one needed to only look at the castle's battlements to discover its source, and be both horrified and awed at once. Hanging from the top of the battlements were the remains of hundreds of sacrificial victims and useless slaves, their bodies in various stats of decay. Hanging by rotting ropes and rusted chains, the grisly things writhed, twisted, and howled as the unholy magic that animated the corpses tossed them about like marionettes.

Atop the wall were hundreds more skeletons, though these clutched bows and stood still as statues, vacantly staring off into the distance. Soros knew that these skeletons were mindless constructs, capable of following simple orders but not of higher tasks such as distinguishing between a friend or foe. That was why a lone warlock stood vigil over the tower gates, able to order an entire army to be perforated with arrows with the utter of a single command, or simply have the gate opened.

"What fools would dare enter the domain of Morvos the Necrouge?" cried out the wall's watcher as Soros and his demons approached.

Soros and his minions tore off the heavy fur clothing that they had worn since venturing into the icy wastes, and tossed the garments aside into the ash to reveal the black robes that they had worn underneath, identical to those of the warlock standing in the gatehouse. Soros pulled back his hood, his visage instantly recognized by the acolyte on watch.

"I a-apologize for my arrogance, my Lord!" he stammered before quickly ordering the skeletons to open the gate and raise the many portcullises behind. A small grin appeared on the face of Malak, the demon amused by the effect that his father had on the lesser warlocks.

When morning broke, the villagers had a grim visage to behold. Beside the rift which had formed in the centre of their village was one mutilated and bloody corpse, and evidence of another which had been dragged into the abyss. This discovery shocked the small community, and they grieved the loss of two of their members, but at the same time they perceived the threat and sent the deliveryman allocated as messenger at once to Amplus. What had once appeared to be a mere inconvenience now seemed to be an ominous harbinger of death.

Later that day, the cart arrived in Amplus and made straight for the administrative district. There existed a building for handling incoming requests and pleas. King Reginaldus never granted a direct audience with everyone who desired help, but he did make sure that their requests were noted and, if appropriate, acted upon. In trivial cases a secretary would be able to authorise action, such as the need for repairs or a supply of food, but anything requiring greater action such as a military response or high value grants of resources needed higher authorisation. The office which handled these requests had a basic sitting room, made to allow people to wait on wooden benches (which would be more easily cleaned that sofas if soiled), with a few paintings on the walls.

After a short wait the farmer was granted audience with the secretary on duty. The secretarial office was adjacent to the waiting room. It had a desk with various items of stationary and two piles of papers- one of blank forms and the other of filled forms. A couple of bookshelves were also in the room. Aside from the secretary, who was a woman in a formal, business-like dress, there was also an armed guard who stood to attention at the side of the room. "What is it that troubles you," the secretary asked calmly.

"My village is in need of your help," the farmer pleaded, "A few days back the ground was torn open in the middle of our town, leaving a deep pit." The secretary nodded, as if this problem were somehow ordinary. But then the farmer continued, "Last night two men went missing- one we found savaged on the road as if by a wild animal, and we found a trail of blood leading into the pit, as if he had been dragged in there. We now fear for our safety, in case whatever beast caused this returned."

The secretary's countenance darkened at this news. This was a foul turn of events, although the secretary rationalised to herself that it could simply be a murder, covered up to make it appear as if it were an accident, or it could be a completely natural creature. "That is unfortunate to hear," she said, "I shall arrange for our civil engineers to repair the damage, and for a couple of lance corporals to investigate. If you would provide me with your name and that of your village, I shall endeavor to have them there by tomorrow. Until then, and until the matter is resolved, I suggest your town maintain a curfew and keep doors barred, for safety against any wild beasts." The farmer gave his details, as the secretary recorded them and the details of his complaint on a blank form. After the details were filled, the secretary replied, "I wish you a safe trip home, and I hope we can resolve this issue without further incident."

The farmer replied with a curt 'thanks ma'am' before leaving. As the door closed behind him, the secretary finished the form, placed it in a signed envelope and closed it with a wax seal. She handed it to the guard, who nodded and exited the office to get the letter delivered.

---

Earlier that morning, in the Amplus military barracks, a letter signed by the King himself was causing quite a stir among the commanding ranks. At the beginning of the day the letter had been delivered to the office with great urgency. Such letters were very rare- orders were normally received via the secretaries and then approved, or were delivered by the commanders, but the King was generally quiet and only wrote orders in his own hand on matters of great importance.

The letter ordered to immediately dispatch a squad to a village in the South East plains of the empire, in order to search the area. No clue was given as to the nature of the issue, but it was said that the inhabitants should have information. The commanders were in confusion and disagreement until Commander-in-Chief Alfred entered. "What is all this fuss about?" he boomed.

The commanders all stood to attention and saluted as their superior announced his presence. One of them stepped forwards to show Alfred the letter. He read it carefully before responding confidently. "The order is clear. You are to choose a squad and send them immediately."

One commander, however, still questioned, "But-"

"No buts- King's orders," Alfred interrupted, "King Reginaldus the Fifth is a very wise king, and he would not personally issue such an order without great reason or consideration. You are to treat this order as one of the utmost importance. Choose a squad who will be able to handle whatever versatile mission this may be, and send them immediately. Understood?"

The room resonated with 'yes sir's and salutes. Satisfied, Alfred turned and exited the room as the commanders quickly busied themselves to select their troops.

Naoto lead the way through the jungle, with the father behind, and the mother and three children behind him. "So... um... we won't have to kill anyone... right?" the father asked. Naoto was staring ahead towards where his dungeon entrance laid, but only in the general direction. He was using his powers to control the fire from before to swipe the ground in front of him and his family, burning the ground in a controlled manner to make it less bumpy for them and their wagons.

"No. You five will dig out my dungeon, build my structures, then eventually lead the next workers who come after yourselves." Naoto grunted without even turning his head. "Oh, okay." the father replied. He wanted to ask more... he wanted to know if anyone would get hurt because of their work, but he didn't feel that asking questions was safe. One was good enough, for now. He had no doubt his children would ask similar questions when the time came, with or without their father telling them not to. They would all get the answers they wanted in time.

Naoto turned his head backwards to look at the trail of ashes behind his group. No doubt those he stole from would be after him, but not without a proper investigation first. By that point, Naoto would be ready for them... and anything they bring with them will only help in Naoto's work. Free weapons, armor, bodies... all that can be transmuted into more useful items when the battle is complete. he grinned to himself. The thought of a battle outside his dungeon, with an army fallen to the ground at his hands and littering his domain with blood excited him.

Naoto stopped for a moment, letting the others walk past and follow the flame up ahead. As the mother walked by, he grabbed the sack out of her hands, then shoved her forward to keep walking. Naoto pulled out a book, a large book, and a few devices use to write with. He close up the bag, and tossed it at the mother, who barely caught it. Naoto move on, pushing his way back to the front of the group as he fixated his eyes on the book he held. I'm not going to get though these wars without a solid plan. he thought to himself. He then started to draw up the bottom of his dungeon, what was currently there, before adding in more detail and plans to expand it further.

The dungeon doors came within range of their magical power, to read the mind of Naoto, to listen for the words... the words not said, not thought, but just known deep within your subconscious. Kólasi̱ pórta. The doors swung open into the jungle, scraping up the already cut of grass and plants from the previous time the doors had opened. Naoto stopped beside the doors, moving the fireball through the portal and past the steps, floating it above the center of the wide square hole leading down to the bottom. The family marched in, with Naoto looking at each one to make sure they were all there. After they entered, he walked in behind them, with the door closing at his heels.

"Um... sir... how do we get down? I don't mean to complain... but... we might trip and hurt ourselves. Or... uh... if you don't care about that... we might break the things we brought." the teenager son said, pulling up sideways to the steps to look down the first fleet. They were huge, and lead down a few hundred feet before the first bend... which went down twice as far, as the one they were on was a platform centered on the wall before going down. Naoto sighed, stamped the hilt of his sword onto the ground, shaking the stairs. All the stairs rumbled, crumbled, then retracted onto themselves. They folded and molded, creating a medium-slope where the stairs once were. "Move down. Now." Naoto grunted, walking past the family and letting himself slide down the slope with ease.

The family slowly made their way down the slopes, onto a platform in the corner, then down to the next slope again. One time, when the teenager was almost at the bottom of a slope, he slipped and let go of the wagon. It sped down the last few feet, bumping on the platform and spilling the contents. His father quickly helped him scoop everything back into the wagon, before the family continued their march down the slopes to the bottom. It was long, not nearly as long as the trek through the jungle. Though it was significantly harder due to the constant moving between every platform.

After the family arrived at the bottom, they all fell to their knees and breathed in heavily. Naoto picked up the sack, pulled out a loaf of bread, and tossed it to the father. "The father and son eat first, then the wife, then the children. Those who can pull off more work need their strength more." Naoto commanded after the father caught the loaf. "But... the children are weaker, and need the nutrition more." the mother replied. "They'll get their food just after you do. I'm not starving them. I'm not a monster as you might think I am." Naoto grinned, choosing his last words just to poke at them. He knew he was a monster... at least in their eyes. But from where he came from, he might as well be a gentle imp... at this point anyway.

After the father finished eating, and having divvied up the food to the rest of the family, Naoto stood him and his son up, shoving pickaxes in both of their hands. "Don't try anything now that you're 'armed'. Remember what happened last time." Naoto commanded. The two of them nodded quickly, before being turned in the direction of a wall. Naoto looked down at his plans to make sure they were in the right spot, then commanded them to pick away at the stone. They made a few swings, but very little happened. A few rocks flew off here and there, but progress would take weeks, months even. "Stop." he commanded. "Set the picks down, and get the others too." Naoto told them. They did as they were told, and set their picks in a pile. Gathered the others, and set them with theirs.

Naoto moved the fire, which had moved down the center of the pit as the family walked down, over towards the picks. The family flinched, and stepped back from the great fireball. The fire engulfed the pickaxes, then started to glow a bright red color, before as short burst of energy escaped. Naoto moved the fire away, to reveal the now enchanted pickaxes. "Woman. Do the same for the other tools." Naoto commanded, who listened instantly. Naoto motioned the father and son to pick up two of the picks and try again, as Naoto did the same process for the other tools.

The father and son held their picks in both hands, resting the top of the hilt, near the actual 'pick' part, on their left hands, and gripping the bottom with their right. They stared at the head of the pickaxe, glowing with fury and anger... as if they were living beings themselves. They were hot to the touch, but neither of them risked trying that theory. Instead, they repositioned the tools, and hacked away at the stone. The stone broke away like a knife through butter, littering the floor with stone.

The two younger children were instructed to move the, now empty, wagons over to the piles of stone. The stone would then lift themselves with the enchanted wagons, and place themselves into the wagons. The children would then push the magically light loads over to a corner away from the digging, and drop them off there. Naoto was instructing the wife to use the magical stone-cutting tools to shape the stone into pieces for his dungeon heart, which was easily done with the use of Naoto's enchanted blueprint of his dungeon heart he handed to her.

Emily sighed as these...Golems refused her. Gave their own, personal freedoms more priority than the survival of the world. They offered something else, to go speak with the spirit of the big thing that had drawn her Blank in the first place, but another of her Blanks had found something else. Something interesting and new.
"I might come back for your..Providence later, but for now I have to see to another thing that has cropped up. Might even be a Keeper. I don't know. If I don't return, then I guess you will all be counting the days to Armageddon. May the Keepers Kill you Swiftly, Travellers" Emily said, bowing gracefully. Despite the sound, it was a genuine well wishing, even accompanied by a smile. Emily then turned and sprung upwards, jets of flame shooting from her hands and ascending her skyward, propelling her out of the city of metal, and into the countryside once again. Once outside the city of Monolith, Emily landed, and head off in the direction that the Blank had told her. She moved with considerable speed, and kept a pace that would be gruelling for one still alive, but she took advantage of the fact that she was naught but a magical puppet now. The countryside eventually gave way to jungle, but Emily followed still the feeling of her Blank. It had seen something interesting, and had followed that interesting thing silently.

Emily knew she was on the right track when she found a trail of ashes leading in the same direction her Blank was.
'Your departure from Monolith was rather abrupt. Do you want to talk about it?' The Mistress asked, a soft, almost motherly tone.
'Maybe later. Right now, I am interested in what I am following' Emily replied, following the trail and her own Blank until she found her way barred by a door. It was out of place,and she knew it was no ordinary door. It was special door. And for that, Emily would use a special key.
"Let's knock, shall we?" Emily asked rhetorically, beginning to draw a rune in the air in front of the door. It was a very complex, ornate rune, and would work very well for a knocker.

Naoto stood over the father and son hacking away at the walls, keeping track of how far along they were moving. The two younger children came by with the wagons again, and waited for them to fill up, before hauling the stones away once more. The tunnel digging was still slow, but they should reach the first turn within the hour. The next two turns after that would be much closer together, leading directly to the Dungeon Heart. Naoto felt the heart was close to the entrance, but eventually there would be so many tunnels and branches that any attacker would instantly become lost within the maze.

A loud buzzing sound then started from somewhere above the stairs, exactly Naoto couldn't tell. The five humans all stopped to look up to try and find it as well, but Naoto grunted quickly, turning them all back to their work. Naoto stomped his sword on the ground, before turning his had to the father, and motioning him over. Naoto handed the blueprints to him, "Continue your work." Naoto told the man, before turning to the stairs and making his slow ascend upwards.

Once Naoto reached the top, he could then sense the magic flowing through the door, attempting to unlock it. Naoto was taken aback, feeling that the magic was strong, and might soon burst the doors open if it continued any longer. Kólasi̱ pórta, then the doors opened outward like they always had before. Naoto stood in the darkness of his dungeon, before getting a better grip on his sword, and then stepping out of the darkness.

Naoto glanced his eyes over the hooded figure, catching nothing more than the stitches in their clothes, and the glowing red eyes. Naoto continued to hold his sword, though not in an aggressive way. He stared at the figure longer, trying to figure out who they were. "You are the one who knocked at my door?" he grinned. "I was expecting something... a little bigger." he said, drawing out the word 'bigger', and enhancing the word with a bigger grin on his face. "What brings you here, to my humble abode?"

Not one among the present Journeymen took Emily's departure as anything less than a curt dismissal, but they made no reply or move to stop her. The last thing that each of them saw before the white light overtook them was the fire that propelled Emily through the air, like a warning flare of bad things to come.

When the light faded, all of them -just like every other Traveler present in Monolith- felt slightly reinvigorated, but it was nothing compared to what the Workers experienced. For Travelers, Blessings were like snacks: quite nice, but not completely necessary. For Workers, Blessings were nothing less of the whole deal. Feeling the surge of life energy bestowed upon them by Providence, the Workers felt their fatigue lift away, allowing them to renew their labor. The legends of the Cypriots say that every immortal must regularly consume an elixir, and for the city of legends, the myths were remarkably accurate. That holy radiance washing down from the peak of Monolith was what allowed them to live forever.

Though the Journeymen were touched by the warm, spiritual feeling common to all, they had business to attend to. In their own speeds, they returned to their seats on the Sestet, and when their beacons blazed skyward, Marowit and Diver rejoined them. Salvadore, somewhat bitter over Emily's parting words, took a few moments getting to the heart of the matter. “It never ceases to impress me that so many outsiders can think so little of our holy spirit. It is not until after they experience the miracle that they change their tune. Emily is not as friendly as she makes herself appear. Even if she did not have many more minds rattling about in her skull, I would not trust her. When dealing with monsters one must take care that oneself does not also become a monster, and she has been dealing with demons, Keepers, and perhaps worse a long time.” His tone became mocking. “So, fellow Journeymen. How best should we go about counting the days we have left?”

Nearly a half dozen voices attempted to answer, but Marowit's steely calm cut through them all. “Your pride belittles the truth it masks, but it is nevertheless truth. In the time after I left, before I rejoined this council, I warped across the country.” The experience had left her far more fatigued than she would have let on, but her reconnaissance was too important for personal discomfort. Marowit was, due in equal parts to her gift and her nature, one of the greatest assets of Monolith. “I visited my usual sources, but I did not get very far before being resummoned. There are whispers of strange things, new and dangerous things, all across the land. In the west, villagers have described a gorgeous, icy demoness who freezes and consumes her victims. A southern logging town is being harangued by creatures part ant and part man. That is all I have for now. There is a reasonable chance that the land is in greater jeopardy.”

“Please continue to scour the countryside for clues...but take it easier next time, Maro. You need not exhaust yourself traveling such distances for information,” rumbled Sen-sen, who knew his sister's habits too well. The broad-shouldered Traveler prided himself on his analysis, and with the enigmatic Marowit, the patterns of action she took were the least troublesome to see. “I propose that we reroute twenty percent of our city's total labor to the construction of fortification and weapons for our own city. Let us not divert from the divisions that supply the Cypriots their own arms, however. Even if the risk is small for now, we must rise to meet the task. We will not be the generation that allows Monolith to fall.”

Diver's perpetual smile greeted the proposal. “Deal! Nobody's gonna spoil these waters.”
Elvilika shrugged. “Whatever,” she yawned. “Workers gotta work on something.”
Kai gave a solemn nod. “Perhaps thirty percent would be better. We have little to lose.”
Sen-sen looked around, and received a few nods. “Very well.”
Marowit gave a stiff nod.”
“Then it is agreed,” Salvadore said. He stood up on his seat and stepped down into the dias. Other council members did the same; this time, all had something to do. “I will return to Salvation, where my presence is needed. When you feel up to it, Marowit, resume your search.” The black-eyed Traveler apparently took offense to his terminology—she vanished immediately. This did not disturb Salvadore, who spoke jointly to Elvilika and Udo Koro Kai next. “Winterkin, relay the labor decree through the amplifier and then start informing the other Travelers. And Diver...it is time for you to head to the zenith and commune with the oracle of Providence.”

-=-=-

A ripple spread across the Flesh, as if something nasty and unpleasant had touched it and provoked a quiver of disgust. The Progenitor, bent over a particularly engaged corpse, shifted its gaze to the maggots and beetles squirming among the heaps of tissue that littered the pit. It watched, briefly toying with the notion of gathering them up for biomass, but eventually turned its soulless gaze on the vile thing that hunkered at the edge of its domain. Bal'Tazor was bigger than the Progenitor, in all senses, and certainly repulsive. And yet, when the avatar of the Flesh That Hates looked upon the bloated demon that had ventured to call it a child, its eyes held something akin to pity. Did this wretch think itself superior to the Flesh? Perhaps it was. It would, however, be the work of moments to find out. The Flesh that Hates would learn from Bal'Tazor, and thereby judge whether it was fit to join the plague or to feed it. No meat was too toxic for the Flesh to adapt to consume it.

The two mouths of the Progenitor, both on its face and on its torso, began to move in sync. They undulated in a fit of noises, a language not only foreign to to the region, but Cyprus itself. Come, so that I may know you. Instant Mutation: Lash. The flesh of the Progenitor's arms instantly began to bubble and break. Viscous liquids, in all arrays of colors, seeped from the reformatting flesh. Noxious gases arose from the crackling pores, filling the rotten air with uncanny odors. In seconds, the arms of the Progenitor metamorphosed from those of men to something entirely different. They were like tentacles of some sea creature, but webbed with muscle and tissue scarring, able to expand and contract, and on their tips were talons. Without a moment's further delay, the Progenitor swung its lashes at Bal'Trazor, seizing it and pulling it down into the pit.

The instant the demon touched the Flesh, the Flesh began to wither from the aura of pestilence the creature exuded. Even over the span of a few seconds, however, it began to change. With the Heart -the source of new mutations- so close, it was taking the disease cocktail in rather than resisting it and perishing. More to the point, however, the Progenitor let go with its lashed, waiting for Bal'Trazor to make a move. The learning had begun.

Emily smiled when, after her big red Key started knocking, the door opened and a huge, deep red creature stepped out. Brimming with arrogance, and holding his sword in away that brought it's existence to note, rather than tried to threaten any onlookers. At first, Emily gave the man a courteous demeanour as the huge being looked her over and then inquired about the knocking. But before Emily could reply the creature made the obvious, so stereotypically villainous comment about Emily's lack of height.
"Well, I kinda got killed by a vicious race of Super-Monsters before I could finish growing. Keepers ripping your soul out of your body and turning you into a walking Magical Weapon kinda stunts one's growth" Emily replied, slightly bitter but also sarcastic. She then held out her hand, and a few seconds later a white wisp flowed down onto it. "As for why I am here, this little darling saw you walking though the jungle and I got interested. Maybe you would be more open to talking than those Monolith people where. If you are here to become the Big Bad of this planet, then you are going to have some major competition very soon. And not from me" Emily told the man-thing, before inclining her head slightly. "I am Emily. I also have the Mistress of Magma and Surtr with me. Lovely to meet you" Emily finished, her tone suddenly getting powerful and deep.
"I do not trust you. If you try anything, I shall eviscerate you" the small woman boomed and then her tone became very soft, and lady-like, as well as very Airy.
"It is nice to meet you, dear. Please don't mind Surtr, he is like this will all new people"

Bal'Tazor looked upon the rotted corpses surrounding the pit with some strange growth like structure within the middle and several disgustingly beautiful creatures scurrying about the cadavers. The soulless gaze that the Progenitor obtained seemed to make Bal'Tazor think that the creature had barley any free will, as Bal'Tazor knew that kind of look as its various brain rotting diseases had conjured such a face. Once the human started to speak, the greater demon noticed the mouth upon the stomach of the being and thought of the design as rather cute, trying to display the glorious nature of horror through other means rather than physical corruption of the body. However, the noise coming through the beast, intrigued Bal'Tazor as it did not recognize the language, only hearing hisses and screeches. The delicious smelling creature seemed to be older than Bal'Tazor had thought, but all corruption and diseases were all its children.

Things started to get interesting as the creature seemed to be transforming, the arms of the being breaking apart and reforming into something more horrendous than the original form. The gasses and rotten odors from the creature smelled quite pleasant, like a small spritz of perfume wafted upon some human. Upon seconds, the arms of the creature turned into tendrils with razor sharp spikes upon the end which only made Bal'Tazor chuckle at the sight, and only further continued once the creature tried to pull Bal'Tazor inside of the pit.

The greater demon playfully acknowledged the aggressive act as the tendrils stuck into the obese body, but pain was no longer feeling that Bal'Tazor had felt as the countless diseases, poxes, and slime covered body had only made its skin resistant to most types of weaponry and thick that only the most sharpened arrow could pierce through the bile colored skin. It stepped into the pit, the pulling that the Progenitor tried to do was futile as the ten meter beast couldn't be easily thrown off balance, even when surprised.

Bal'Tazor squished the rotting corpses under its fatty feet and this pit reminded it of home as the landscape and smell seemed to be reminiscent of its old fortress. The demon noticed that it had forgotten its axe as it had placed it upon a nearby field and only laughed at the mistake it had made, and soon the mad gaze feel upon the Progenitor which had let go of the lumbering beast. "Is the child trying to show their dominance to me? How cute, but let me show you the true power of Bal'Tazor," bellowed the demon. Without its axe, the demon had to think upon its feet and thought of the most joyous of plans. Bal'Tazor quickly shoved its hand through the several openings around the body, trying to find something upon the rotting organs and its face brightened as it seemed to find what it was looking for, and what it pulled out was the lime green, slimy, and absolutely poor excuse of a stomach. These demons did have no need for these organs, they were mainly just for effect, but they still served some purpose and Bal'Tazor could always grow a new stomach. It soon ripped open the stomach, spraying the horrendously smelling stomach acid that would make ordinary men retreat at the sight of such a scene.

The resulting liquid soon spread upon the bodies littered across the place, and within seconds, the skin peeled off and the rest of the acid soon seeped into the decaying muscles, making it into a disgusting red-ish slush of what used to be meat. Bal'Tazor laughed once more, when viewing the decaying corpses and looked at it with such pride as the demon has been bared from the mortal realm for so long, it was nice to see its powers gaining. The Plague Lord was not finished though, as it soon picked up the meaty slush with one scoop and took one hearty slurp of the decayed corpses and shook the rest of the slushy material upon the ditch. When Bal'Tazor swallowed, and with the stomach gone, what could this monster do? Suddenly, something started to rumble inside of the belly of the beast, and soon, one head poked out of the stomach. It actually bore the resemblance Bal'Tazor himself, but only smaller version of itself and the creature soon started to chirp wildly as more and more heads started to poke out of the being. It's belly contained several lesser demons as they used the large body as their home, but were awakened as the slush of meat entering the body awakened the slumbering creatures. Several of the little creatures started to burst out from the large wounds of the Bal'Tazor and started to run widely around the pit and it laughed joyously as the two feet tall creatures were running around quite crazily and nibbling upon the corpses of the fallen.

The actions of the plague demon, however mocking, failed to provoke the Progenitor. It retracted its tentacles, their deed accomplished, and watched as Bal-Tazor converted some waste tissue left behind by the Flesh into a meal for itself. This fascinated the Progenitor, who learned far less with its eyes then it did by the chemicals seeping from Bal-Tazor into the ground, for the ground was now the domain of the Flesh That Hates. The instant that the demon had allowed itself to be coaxed into entering the pit was the instant that the Progenitor's lesson would proceed satisfactorily.

For a few moments the Progenitor dumbly watched the plague spawn race in impish merriment about its pit. After a few moments, the cackling creatures ceased to interest the Progenitor. They were like the scabs, with no true intellect of their own, only a directory fixation. Nothing could be learned from them. From the abomination that birthed them, however, much could seemingly be gleaned. It was powerful, certainly, and even if its words meant nothing the tone could not be mistaken. Its taunts simply did not register with the Progenitor; the only language it understood was its own. Yet again, though, it was the chemicals that told it everything. Inside the pit, the stones and dirt were infested with the Flesh, and through skin contact with the membrane the Progenitor expanded its awareness to each tiny facet of life within the area. It wasn't the only one affected by contact with the Flesh, however. Even now, tiny filaments of the Flesh were working their way into Bal'Tazor from where he stood upon it. Their progress was slow due to the nature of the poisons in the demon's body, but by the Progenitor's will they were adapting and advancing. Before the embodiment of disease could be further reached into, however, he had to be further studied.

The Progenitor brushed its right tendril across the fleshy ground, transmitting impulses. As one, every Snatcher in the pit rose to their feet from their comatose sleep, a few surprising the very plague spawn that had been trying to gnaw on them. The Snatchers that were close enough grabbed the smaller minions, held them close, and launched their fleshhooks into the little demons' faces. Those that were farther away simply snagged their prey with the fleshhooks, reeled them in, and began to carry them toward the huge, grotesque, elevated structure that was the Heart.

While this happened, the Progenitor quickly adapted itself once more, paying careful attention to Bal'Tazor's reaction in the meantime. Instant mutation: fray. The arms of the avatar of the Flesh metamorphosed again, taking only seconds to become thick, columnlike limbs frayed at the end into thousands of nerve endings. The Progenitor then plodded toward Bal'Tazor, desirous to feel its skin and commune with the inner workings of its monstrous body directly. It had, it seemed, little concern for itself. If the plague demon thought that the Progenitor was a mindless child rather than an indomitable organism, it was no concern as long as it allowed itself to be examined.

The greater demon watched as his little children were running around the pit, nibbling on everything they could with little squeaks and chattering of enjoyment coming from the lesser demons. The little ones managed to lift up the spirit of Bal'Tazor as their rather cute and small chattering were always interesting to watch. Later on, Bal'Tazor would bounce the little ones upon its knees and later rounding them all up to sleep inside of its belly, the monster acted very paternally to them. However, once the pit started to quickly kill of Bal'Tazor's children, the laughter seemed to cease. The monster not amused at the antics of the newer species, and needed to teach this thing their lesson in discipline. The demon did forget its axe up on the field near the place, but the sheer power and size was always a weapon to Bal'Tazor. The greater demon's anger started to build as the newer creatures were soon taking the dead bodies of its children to the growth like structure.

Bal'Tazor soon looked upon the Progenitor with a grim face as it seemed to change once again, lumbering to the demon. Pus and slime started to secret in greater amounts around the skin and stronger diseases were soon being awoken as the Plague Lord was now getting serious and ready to teach this new plague the lesson to be nice towards its children. The demon soon raised its fatty legs slightly into the air, and used the full force of its decayed muscles and body weight to create a minor quake around the area and creating a rather deep imprint of Bal'Tazor's foot print within the pit. This was meant to throw most off of the creatures off balance and the creature lumbering towards it, Bal'Tazor knew that the growth within the pit had to do something with the disease, but it needed time to corrupt the strange thing and these creatures were in the way of the demon.

The demon soon raised one arm, high into the air with various liquids dripping off of the body and quickly slammed the massive hunk of decayed meat onto the ground and dragged it along the decayed flesh and bodies. Bal'Tazor soon noticed the flesh were trying to attach to its arm, and the demon soon dragged its massive arms along the ground, crushing bodies and destroying the ground on where it was standing. Bal'Tazor opened the meaty hand and started to gather dirt, flesh, and blood all into one huge ball with Bal'Tazor's pus quickly covering the meaty thing and acting as some of adhesive. Soon, Bal'Tazor chucked the meaty ball towards the lumbering being with immense force.

Naoto held silent the entire time 'Emily' spoke. He listened to the woman's explanation as for why she was so short, talking about the wisp she held, about some 'Monolith people', and Naoto wanting to be the 'Big Bad' of the land... and a gentle threat of competition, while also making it clear it wouldn't be coming from her. Naoto let out a big roar of a laugh after the three of them explained their names to him, each one talking in turn, and each with their own dramatic voice. Naoto would have wiped a tear from his face, had his form let him produce such things.

"You need not explain your small size little one!" Naoto held himself upright again, but now much more friendly and curious as to who this woman was. "I've seen imps do some amazing things... and from what I can tell from you, you're not exactly an imp yourself." he said. "As for Surtr, you need not worry. I would threaten you the same if I were in his situation. That is, being trapped inside the body of someone else to do their bidding. Am I correct in that last assumption?"

"For your being here, I am willing to talk, yes. I think it might be better done indoors, however, as I am expecting company later. I'd rather give us the peace and quiet to talk things through before then." Naoto said, stepping aside and waving his hand towards the open door. "Mind the darkness." he grinned. "From what I've picked out of you telling me... you are here to talk to me, because someone else denied your service? As for you being here now, you wish to help me... but for what, exactly? I'm not sure I have anything to offer you, other than a Keeper's promise a spot for you in my world when we are through." Naoto said to Emily. A smile crept up on Naoto's face once again, something that never seemed to stop. "Though, a Keeper's word isn't worth very much."