Mamoru continued to enamour herself in the fluff until Ashara removed herself from Mamoru. She grasped at the empty air still pretending as if it was still there, but then slumping forward in slight disappointment. “Still, you are allowed to at least see the village and what we may be up against. For all we know, this world may be far more powerful than us. Such a challenge would be exciting, for surely the treasures would be well worth the dangers.”

That being said Ashara was correct that Mamoru needed to hurry and actually do her job. This was a direct order from the master himself, so unlike Mamoru’s day-to-day duties she cannot shirk it. Mamoru was about to actually get to work when the most loveliest of scents came by. Flan du Rosemary vuu Succulence Ral Thyme Sauerkraut, one of the only NPC’s of servile purposes who actually has skills related to being a maid. Mamoru herself was a maid in name only, as the only thing she cleans up are enemies. When the master chef offered refreshments Mamoru gracefully accepted a glass and snack. “Why thank you, Master Chef Flan. You are as sweet as your delicacies.” Mamoru was eager to flirt further and grab more snacks, but soon Gromgard arrived and reminded Mamoru of her duties. Ashara gave Mamoru a catty comment, to which Mamoru simply replied with a firm squeeze of Ashara’s tail, both as retaliation and so Mamoru could get a handful of her sweet and succulent fluff. Finishing her food, Mamoru curtsied to the goblin general. “Of course General Gromgard. I simply need to order some skeletons to be in watch and we shall leave post haste. I shall meet you at the front gates.”

Mamoru would dismiss herself from the throne room and quickly return to her quarters to organize the skeletons. She first had to repair the hole that was made near the throne room, and then sent a few skeletons out as sentries around the fortress. She made sure that these sentries were wearing tattered clothing, so that if any locals found them they would be mistaken as long-dead travelers and not servants of the Chateau. Afterwards it was just a matter of gathering her equipment, namely changing from her maid uniform to a different one. Her main maid uniform was a dress made by her Creator, one she is loathed to sully with the rigors of combat. She has many other uniforms of a similar design she cares little for since they are mere copies of the original her master personally made for her. Additionally, Mamoru made sure to being a few basic supplies such as healing potions, restorative, and even Phoenix Feathers, a low level revival item in case the goblins somehow died during their short escapade. She doubts that was the case, but one can never be too certain. Once she gathered her items, Mamoru did one last thing: she performed a series of techniques and moves to massively buff her stats, if only for a short while, and then created a clone who had her bolstered stats. The two Mamoru faced one another as the original explained her purpose.

“The Master seems to be uneasy at the new revelation of our world, so you must tend to him however you can. I must fulfill the duties he has given me, but you will ease both our hearts and ensure his safety and well-being.” There wasn’t a real need to explain since the copy of Mamoru had the same motives and personality, but it was good to make it clear to herself what her goals were. The two shook hands and split off, the original going to meet Gromgard at the front gates while the clone went to go find Rodias and tend to him.

@Xaltwind@Guess Who


@Lugubrious@Stern Algorithm@Inkarnate


@Inkarnate@DracoLunaris


@Rockin Strings@Lucius Cypher


@IceHeart


@Pirouette


@Archmage MC


Once his duties were concluded for the night, Rodias would retire to the library. Any seeking to find him would find him asleep in a chair, tucked within a corner of the library. Laying beneath his arms were countless tomes full of chat logs, countless messages of no real import. No import to anybody but him.

Before long Graft and Salem met with their Sable Lord, and they got down to business straightaway. His niceties about being busy did not fall on deaf ears; Graft thought of the news given to him by his assistant, which riddled him with curiosity. The wishes of Rodias, of course, remained the number one priority, and the industrialist gave his master his full attention.

Tea arrived, as if on cue, and Graft took a cup almost too quickly. He downed the whole thing in a few seconds, heedless of temperature thanks to the overpowering thirst he only just now remembered having, but did not miss a word Rodias had to say. Just as expected, he would be cooperating with Salem, although the plan outlined afterward made Graft think that 'cooperate' was too generous a term. In order to gather intelligence on the Chateau's surroundings, he would be manufacturing a number of bodies for Salem to use for surveillance, especially populated areas. The nature of the arrangement, in which Graft would be making equipment that Salem would then be using, was the source of his verbal discontent. In no sense were they really working together. If Graft was offered a partnership, he expected full integration and utilization of both parties in the entire process. Of course, maybe he thought about terminology a bit too much, but when cutting a deal the terms were all-important.

With that preliminary problem shelved, the practical ones rose to the forefront of his mind. Rodias seemed to know it too. Before automata and replica vermin could be made, Graft needed to get an idea of what the fauna of this world looked like. To assume it identical to that of the last world would be the height of impetuousness. He intended to make no foolish mistakes. But to find out the fauna, those concerned in the Chateau would need to go out and look. Before him lay a circular dilemma, and he doubted that the noble ladies Ashara and Kath would be scouring the refuse heaps and filthy back alleys to observe this world's vermin.

Rodias went on to suggest birds instead, with such a theatrical show of thinking that Graft half-guessed the amended plan had been premeditated. It was a good change, since birds would be more mobile and easier for scouts to observe themselves, but they still needed to be cataloged before the machines could rumble to life. His stated reasoning for changing his mind, however, seemed faulty, and it formed the other half of Graft's guess. What did Salem care about encountering less-than-pleasant substances through a distant proxy? Aside from being inorganic, with nothing to worry about in terms of contamination, he would be experiencing it all with just one sense: sight. No revolting smell, no disgusting texture. And kids loved getting filthy, anyway. Graft felt sure of that, since Brushen Penn hated kids, and whatever she hated must be despicable.

As Rodias left, Graft tapped his foot, thinking. “Looks like we might be at an impasse,” he told Salem. “Until we know what this world's creatures look like, I can't start making fakes for you to put eyes in.” With the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, he gave his mustache a sophisticated stroking. “Of course, Lord Rodias must know this. And that we must know what to infiltrate before we can infiltrate it. Therefore the delay in production is understandable, and until we have the data, we can attend other matters.” Speaking as though it were a done deal, Graft waltzed into the elevator. Once in, he spun about and looked at Salem. “How'd you like a special tour of the Factory, young...one?” He grinned, more on one side of his mouth than the other, his eyes partially shut. “You can take a look at my R&D process. Maybe test out my latest amalgam. It'll be fun. Oh, but hurry. This special offer expires in three, two, one...”

Whether or not Salem joined him in the elevator, the door slid shut, and the box slid down, down, down.

---

A wave of distinctive air hit Graft as he emerged into a Factory hall on the lower level. Dingy, ribbed, and dimly lit, it held a vast quantity of air that boasted not just an unforgettable smell, but an unforgettable feel. Like it was crawling all over you. “Ahh, yes.” He sighed. “That warm, clingy vapor, that...oh, full-bodied odor. Like an entire complex full of exhaled breath. You never realize how much you'll miss it 'til it's gone.” He released a sound, as might someone shown something very interesting and important. “Hm...I really must can it and start shipping it around.”

Two paths lay before him. One went to his office, which contained the inventory node that he used to do his prototyping. The other led to the Factory's very own testing room, where that wyvern from earlier still paced restlessly. Graft didn't know where to begin. “Hmm...which one, which one. Get to work on something new, or visit something old.” He remembered the special matter mentioned by Papillary. “Or, I could get that out of the way...”

A Direct Line to Papillary manifested. Graft slid it close to his head, the floating magic rune bridging the short distance between his ear and mouth. “Papillary? Where are you now?”

“Production,” the hearty female voice responded immediately. “At the door.” Graft stared into the testing room. On the opposite side of that large, circular chamber lay. At its end, the core with its invaluable artifact. Behind that, the forbidden door. Penn's private chamber. That Graft considered investigating it at all spoke to his reliance on Rodias' assurance that he and he alone constituted the Board, with the other Bandersnatch Lords indefinitely absent. “Are you coming?” the voice asked.

Graft nodded to nobody. “I am.” He banished the Line, seized his cane, and set off toward Production.

Gromgard smirked at the comment about the date as he took a small snack from the tray. "Thank you, Flan." he smiled softly before turning to Ashara, the glow in his eyes darkening in color, but brightening in intensity. "A date does sound like a wonderful idea. Perhaps you would like to join us? We could see how long you last in my torture chamber." He then lifted his helmet just enough to toss the food in his mouth, small wisps of shadows licking out at the free air.

Mamoru said she'd meet him outside the front gate so he headed back to his chambers. He ordered his goblins to stay near their hive and wait for his signal, except his scouts, which he took with him. With the 5 goblins, he met her outside the gate.

With the help of the scouts, he found the most likely direction the artists had gone. As they traveled, Gromgard took notice of broken pencils and drips of paint along the path. He thought it was strange as the pair was usually a lot cleaner than this. It wasn't too long before he heard their screams. With only a hand motion, he sent the scouts into the trees, leaving only himself and Mamoru in the open.

And then the attackers arrived. Gromgard immediately didn't like them and their voices were grating on his ears, which was saying something as he spent most of his time listening to goblins. They rushed. Gromgard drew his sword and readied his fireball spell, one of the only few he knew. Once they were close enough, he launched the spell and followed up by swinging his sword wide, allowing the goblins to shoot their crossbows from the trees on the group.

"Your sins will crawl up your back." he spoke just loud enough for their enemies to hear him as he focused energy into his amber on the back of his left hand. Not far behind him, a hole erupted from the ground with a glowing, yellow light, which was blocked repeatedly as 43 more goblins, each with their own weapons and armor, climbed out. Even the blacksmith and Gnarl joined the group, which ended up surrounding the 6 humanoids. "You're gonna have a bad time." The glow from his yellow eyes darkened to black before his left eye reappeared as a bright blue.

At Mamoru's sudden squeezing of one of her tails, Ashara's face lit up with a slight tinge of pink, and her tail quickly retracted and slid out of the assailant's hand. The squeeze wasn't hard or painful, but it was surprising and something the fox hadn't been prepared for. She would have to remember to be more careful around the head maid, given her proclivity to selfishly snuggle and grab her tails. Still, Ashara made no sound or fuss about the incident, merely keeping on smiling.

Gromgard's comment about the date, however, left her feelings - as usual - unwilling to respond. His inability to know how to speak to a lady, much less differentiate between what was an acceptable activity for a date was just abhorrent. Not to mention, what kind of woman would want to be tied down with a bunch of filthy, smelly goblins all around? Truly, the Goblin General was an oaf among oafs, with nary a single sliver of courtesy in his bones... Then again, given his nature, perhaps he didn't have bones to begin with?

Regardless, Lady Kath had given her agreement, and so she was off, heading first for the foyer of the Chateau and then out through the large, sturdy main gates. Into the fresh and cool night air outside.

---

Standing out in the middle of the night, gazing up at the three, waxing blue moons, Ashara smiled to herself. While she loved the Chateau and the Shadowtower Shrine, it had been oh-so-very-long since she had last been outdoors and stood beneath an open sky. Only in her very early youth had Lady Deka_Ribbon ever taken her out of the castle, to visit areas and places that the Supreme Being desired to draw inspiration from for her work on the, at the time, unfinished shrine and fox. Bittersweet memories of travelling with and observing her energetic creator mill to and fro as she made notes and comments, it brought a melancho0lic expression to the nine-tailed fox face. Her trip down memory lane was soon ended though, as the sound of Lady Kath's voice brought Ashara back to the present.

Indeed, the dragonoid librarian was as swift as she had said, having arrived not long after their initial seperation. She carried two books with her, thick and heavy-looking as always. In truth, Ashara never was much of a reader - not that her duties within the Chateau allowed her much time for such frivilous activities to begin with, but even when she was free, the beautiful woman prefered to spend her time either with the other shrine maidens, or visiting the gardens.

That aside, it seemed that her companion was a bit uneasy. In fact, she seemed rather unsure of herself and began to spout nonsense about bringing more books on how to fight fires, or asking their Lord to reconsider sending her. Granted, Lady Kath had a much more important role at the Chateau and a much greater respnsability than Ashara, the fox knew this, and the librarian was also more or less a sheltered princess who - at this point - was being forced inot a vast, unknown world. Thinking about it that way, Ashara could understand why her superior was feeling uneasy and nervous about this trek, but sitll... This was a direct assignment given by their one and only Sable Lord, a mission of great importance for all of the Chateau.

Ashara cast a gaze out over the mountain and that which lay below. The nighttime breeze making her almost radiant white hair and her equally white tails gently sway and move in the breeze.

"I cannot say I know our Lord's mind, Lady Kath." Ashara began, brushing a strand of hair from her own face. "But he chose you, out of all the possible Chapter Keepers, to go and see this task through. If I may offer my own thoughts, he could have chosen those better suited for battle to deal with violence, or those with cunning minds to concoct clever and devious plots. But he did not." She turned to look at Kath, a gentle smile and friendly expression on her face. "He chose you, Lady Kath. Because out of all the Chapter Keepers, you are the most knowledgeable of them all. I am certain he wished for you to make use of all that knowledge you have gained from your tomes in order to help secure the Chateau's future in this new, uncertain world." She paused, glancing at the three moons once more, before returning her gaze to Kath's own eyes.

"If there is a fire, I shall be the wind that puts it out. If there is a robber, I shall be your spear and strike them donw. If there is a vandal, I shall be your shield and keep you safe. This I swear and pledge to you, milady. As long as we travel this road together, until our task is done, I will use whatever skill and strength I have to keep you safe." Ashara promised earnestly.

And it was an honest promise, as Ashara did not lie - Deka_Ribbon had made it a point that liars and those who spoke falsehoods were the epitome of scum. Of course, Ashara would not make a promise like 'I'll protect you no matter what!' or "Nothing will happen to you while I'm around!' because, as it stood, she could not possibly guarantee such things. Even back in their old world, there were plenty of creatures who could best the fox in battle, but that didn't matter now, for her promise was to do whatever she could, to the best of her abiltities, to keep her superior and fellow Chateau-denizen safe.

---

The trek down the mountain was largely uneventful, to say the least. Apart from a few animals, including a particularly verbal mountain goat, there really wasn't much of note. A distinct lack of vegetation and wildlife made for a dull scenery, with only the occasional cave being worth any immediate note. Ashara's ears would periodically flit, twitch or bend, taking in the noises and sounds of their surroundings as they walked. Honestly though, even with the three moons not being full, the abundant moonlight made it quite easy to see. But she had promised Kath to do everything she could to keep the librarian safe, and that included using her ears. Had she been on her own,. she likely wouldn't have been quite so vigilant though.

Upon reaching the foot of the mountain however, Ashara stopped briefly, looking over at her ally and speaking.

"Please hold for a moment, milady. I should get changed." The fox stated.

Closing her eyes, the white hair on her head suddenly flushed with color, turning a deep, raven black color instead. The ears atop her head shrunk and shrunk and finally seemed to just disappear down into her head. Her tails seemed to just suddenly vanish, as if they had never been there to begin with - completely and utterly gone, as if someone used the 'ctrl+x'-command to simply cut them out of existence. Finally, when she opened her eyes again, they no longer had their amethyst, purple tint, but were now instaed a deep and dark brown, like that of freshly turned earth. To anyone looking at her now, Ashara would indeed look like nothing more than an incredibly attractive, far-eastern woman, though her attire stayed the same.

"There, I believe this eappearance should cause far less alarming to anyone we meet." She said with a pleased smile on her face. It wasn't often she had gotten to use her fully human-form back in the Chateau, as there was never really a need for it. Unfortunately, her brilliant idea didn't extend to remembering to also use her illusion-skills to help disguise Kath's appearance...

..

As they waited for sunrise, Ashara didn't say much. She looked around the area, surveilling the wildlife and enviroment, keeping watch and making sure all was clear and safe. When they had finally managed to circumvent the village and made their way onto the road, as per Lord Rodias instructions, they could finally see smoke rising from the chimneys back over at the settlement, and the sound of hammering and metal could soon be heard close thereafter. Nodding to Kath in a silent affirmation, the pair began to advance and would soon come upon the town proper, entering the boundaries of the little but lively mining-town.

Ashara internally made note that the overall feel and appearance of the town was... Lacking... It had an idyllic, rustic feel no doubt, but it lacked form and elegance. It was a very rugged and unpolished place, with equally rugged and unpolished people. Men with broad shoulders, wide backs and muscly arms, along with women - who sadly also had broad shoulders, wide backs and muscled arms - seemed to be the unfortunate majority populace of this place. Ashara let out a disappointed sigh, not at all appreciating this den of testosterone and sweat.

As they came upon a single, larger structure - having two whole floors to boast about - they were suddenly stopped. A man, who eyed them sternly and suspisciously, had appeared to block their path. From the way he stood and moved, Ashara could only assume he was some kind of spear or polearms-wielder as well, though it was difficult to say at what skill he was, given that he wasn't holding any weapon for her to make that judgement upon. He then spoke, blunt and without eloquence, rough and unfriendly - hardly a way to speak to two gorgeous ladies, much less so people you had never met before. The buffoon had not even given his name before asking them questions! Such lack of manners, truly, this was a backwater and dingy settlement.

Now, Lord Rodias had given instructions on how to handle themselves. They were to avoid answering questions about from where they hailed, and were to assume the role of Soldiers of Fortune. Fortunately, Ashara had thought ahead, and had withdrawn her spear from her inventory while they had descended the mountain - so at least she had a weapon, albeit slung on her back, with which to play the part of a travelling adventurer or sellsword.

"Fine greetings to you as well, Sir." Ashara said politely, giving a small bow and a calm, friendly face to show. "We would fall into the latter category I believe." She answered. Normally, Ashara would have stayed quiet and let her better, Kath, deal with this fellow - but as the Chapter Keeper had demojnstrated uncertainty and anxiety earlier, Ashara thought it best to at least handle this mundane and menial introduction for now. This would also allow for Kath to gather her wits, come up with something quite brilliant, and allow the Chapter Keeper to take over and ask all the right things later on as the conversation proceeded.

“A….all of them?” Agathina stuttered in response to Rodias’ request to face every level 70 monster they had available. The vampire that Kaldorna had left in command of the area during her absence stared disbelievingly at the Sable Lord for a few moments until the hawk sat astride her shoulder pecked at her head, causing the visor of her full suit of plate mail clacked down over her face and impact with the large round glasses she was wearing.

“Ow,” she said softly as she raised up the visor again. While she was rubbing her mildly injured nose she took in Rodias’s confident demeanor (and the impatient stare the hawk was giving her) before nodding resolutely.

“As you command my lord!” she said with a vampiric bow.

Then she cracked open a ledger containing a complete list of the beasts found in pens that she had been intending to present to Rodias and began quickly skimming through it for each and every entry for beasts of the requested level, calling out instructions to the gaggle of subordinate beast tamers and thralls that were gathered their to assist her whenever she found one.

After a great deal of bustling about things were all set for Rodias’s tutorial. The arena it was to take place in was a classic design, aping the aesthetics of a roman Colosseum with its central sand floored pit surrounded by raised up spectators stands. The main difference was that the arena was entirely subterranean, was lit by a large number of light blue floating mage lights and was carved from a blue and purplish stone. Once things where all set Agathina and her hawk could be seen up in these stands in Kaldorna’s commentator box, where she had control over all the features of the arena. There where a daunting array of buttons, levers and dials up in the control room, but the vampire stuck to the basics as she wrenched down on several levers that caused the great gates in the side of the area to raise and unleash the beasts.

They came thundering out of these gates, urged on by a number of lesser beastmasters and thralls. The thralls, armed mostly with long halberds, did not enter the arena itself, needed only to make sure the monsters got to their destination in one piece, while the bestmasters followed the monsters out of the gates before quickly turning and leaping up the shear walls of the arena and into the stands with their vampiric agility.

Arrayed at their command where dozens of beasts such as:

The hulking Ruby Hydra, its many blind heads already bickering with one another

The ki wielding Eather Serpent that immediately soared up to hug the underside of the magic barrier shielding the spectators from the carnage that was about to unfold.

The Silver Darganthi, a gorilla sized powerhouse that fought exclusively with over the top wrestling moves.

The horrifying Ocuvolf that could fire sanity blasting beams of energy from every one of its myriad of eyes.

The small and elusive Svelth which vanished from sight almost as soon as it entered the arena.

The creepy crawly Necropede who’s claws could inject neurotoxin that would raise its prey as undead thralls and walking snacks.

And last but not least the classic Red Wyvern in all it’s fire breathing glory.

Because of Sun200’s obsession there where, naturally, two of every species of beast present. One male and one female, though in most cases only an expert would have been able to tell which was which. The experts on hand, at least two present for every one monster, where not here to provide such answers however. Instead once they and the monsters were all in positions and Agathina gave her consent they raised their hands in near unison, pointing at the awaiting Rodias and uttering the command:

[Attack!]

---

Midday found Kaldorna sat at a parasol table sipping from a wineglass of goats blood while she watched the world through the eyes of a hawk that was soaring high above the Vampire’s rest spot. The [Share Senses] skill had so many wonderful uses, the vampire mussed to herself.

A few meters away the Smogticore she had brought for additional protection was feasting on the still smoking remains of the goat they had first turned and then used as a test dummy for the effects of the Sun’s rays. The vampires where avoiding the unfortunate goat’s fate by camping out in and under a large series of tents unfurled from a number of carts they had brought to transport the spoils of the hunt back to the Chateau. At the center of the complex they’d also set up a shade generator, a mid level magical artifact meant to allow vampires to fight in day (balanced in the game by restricting their movement to a set zone and creating a weak point that must be guarded) and the entire complex was built beneath a thick section of tree cover. Each and every vampire also had a personal parasol for protection, either carried, strapped to their backs or planted in the ground while they stood guard, musket at the ready.

All of this had been set up by Arthanar, who insisted that you could never be too over prepared. Normally Kaldorna found all this a touch paranoid, but with the uncertainty surrounding resurrection, coupled with the vampire’s inability to add new fully fledged vampires to their ranks now that Sun220 was missing, she now saw the virtue in being over prepared for the worst.

The only ones braving the land beyond the tent city where parasol carrying vampyric thralls who were ensuring their masters’ Dark Unicorn Steeds where watered and grazed properly, or managing the boisterous skink hounds the vampires had brought along as hunting dogs. Unlike the vampires the thralls where replaceable, or they would be once the Chateau gained enemies that could be turned, an eventually Kaldorna expected would come in due time.

War with yet to be made foes was a concern for a later time however, for now the issue was, of course, feeding the collection, something that Zouyu was being exceptionally helpful with. Kaldorna smiled at the young gardener as he approached her riding a strange reptilian bovine. She’d been a touch dubious in regard to how useful he’d actually be to the hunt, though her good manners had ensured she’d never made this known to him, but it turned out that having a diurnal person to run around while the vampires slept was exceptionally useful. The fact that he’d turned up something other than the rather unsavory goats was definitely credit to his name.

”That’s wonderful news Darling” she called back in reply to his shouting about his mount being tasty. As the were tiger and his steed came closer she stood from her chair, picked up a small handheld parasol from where it had been leaning against her chair and then strode forwards to inspect his catch.

The first thing she did was crouch down, lock eyes with the beast and cast ”[Dominate Creature]” upon it. That formality set aside she gave it a quick once over before telling Zouyu that”This is an excellent find Zouyu, I was worried we’d be hunting and eating goats for the rest of our time here. Very docile I take it? Unless you have beast taming levels? Hmmm. It’s practically built to be live stock really,” she paused for a few moments before asking with a teasing tone ”We’re not about to be assailed by angry farmers wielding pitchforks and screaming about cattle rustling are we darling?”

With their preparations made, Mamoru and Gromgard would leave the Chateau and follow the goblin's trail. They weren't trying very hard to move stealthily, to the point that Mamoru didn't really need to bother using any of her searching skills and simply followed the trail the goblins made. If anything as they walked down the mountain, Mamoru scanned the deepest of the earth for any notable mineral ores. Even something as simple as nickle or salt could be used for the Chateau now that they're no longer connected by their usual supply lines. Mamoru was delighted to notice a fairly large deposit of corundum not too deep into the mountain, and she was noticing faint traces of Orichalcum slightly beyond that. If she could spend some more time around the mountain base, she could ascertain what mineral resources this mountain contained and how long it'll take before they could excavate it. Perhaps if Ashara and and Kath's trip to the village proved fruitful, they could hire the villagers to operate the mines as a show of good faith. Give them some work, pay them well, and foster a professional relationship with them.

It wasn't long before Mamoru and Gromgard found the goblins, who were running away from some sort of threat. Some strange but lightly armed and armored figures arrived and threatened them. "Ah, you must be cultists. Surely only a fanatic would look upon my fellow here and believe that six alone would be enough to defeat him, let alone both of us." Mamoru didn't bother to defend herself as Gromgard and his goblins would quickly swarm the six strange assailants. With the goblins safely back with them, Mamoru offered Shill a potion for his wound. It would be a bit excessive considering that the potion alone could heal over four times the goblin's max health, but this was the weakest potion Mamoru could have on short notice. Speaking of notice, Mamoru did not miss the long figure arrive, only to turn back and flee. Perhaps he was a smart one, or more likely he left to gather the rest of the cult here. Mamoru simply smiled. "Do what you wish with these rabble. I shall chase down the runner, perhaps bring him in for questioning."

Mamoru would suddenly vanished, using her Flash Step ability to get around the crowd and immediately began to pursue the lone figure. He was close enough that Mamoru used a single Speed Strike to reach him, but made sure only to aim for his lower back, wanting to disable him and not kill him. Or at the very least if she does end up killing him, due to the sheer speed and force of the kick she would deliver, he would still be whole so she can quickly revive and interrogate him. Had these people just been normal hunters who might've mistaken the goblins as common mooks, Mamoru might be more inclined to show mercy. But the words of the larger brute showed that these people are out for blood, and so Mamoru would hold not an ounce of pity for them once she can get her hands on them.

The forges of Bandersnatch were, by honest YGGDRASIL standards, meager considering that whole guilds devoted themselves to crafting. However, the efforts of some players' pet projects and curiosities had taken the Chateau's capabilities beyond the expectation for a raiding guild. Two advanced Neatherium forges had the capability of reaching the highest temperatures in the MMO meaning it could smelt any ore in game, save for Neatherium which had to be magically forged by the highest leveled craftsmen, though having a high enough smith to forge that metal was another matter. These two great forges sat like pillars in the center of a large stone room and in between those pillars was an elevated altar where a massive anvil that seemed made of glass. Yet underneath the exterior shell, molten rock boiled and churned lively capable of reacting to any touch of metal. Pressed against the border of the room were various shelves, storage racks, and workbenches that had various metalworks on them. Then on just behind those an outer hallway lined the whole room with large metal doors lining the whole length, filled and categorized with crafting materials needed for the forges.

The only permanent inhabitant of this room was Oz, the half-golem smith. She had been absent up until this point due to the real sense of duty to prepare the forges. They had sat cold for so long, unused by the absent players of the guild. Now they needed tending more than ever as Oz had quickly become obsessed with being prepared with that she hadn't noticed the request or lack thereof to attend the priority meeting with the one she deemed, her Guardian.

By the time her Guardian came, the forges were lit and hissing with life. The room had dramatically increased in temperature that the air shimmered from the heat just about everywhere. Tolerable for anyone with higher resistances, unnoticable for Rodias and Oz for that matter.

A solemn, mute bow was Oz's greeting as Rodias came into her domain. She lifted and remained unflinching from a polite smile as she watched and waited for her Guardian to speak first. His request was surprising but it had not altered Oz's expression one bit. "A fair request, Guardian. I will work at great haste to fill your order. Every weapon cast in iron will be a simple task for this humble servant." She bowed again, her tone unflinching but the wording was deliberate with a hint of ironic humor behind being humble and calling it a simple task, a relic from Daz's code experimenting.

Oz lifted again and she met Rodias eyes again. This time, her gaze was different shifted just slightly like she was staring more intently. In truth, she was beaming with a muted giddiness for her. She was more than thrilled to be given any recognition here since it had been a long, long time since any player visited. "Should you require something specific for branching out, I would be glad to be of an assistance. I can prepare a manifest of the material we have and I am prepared to assist in any procurement of additional material to meet any request."

Kath couldn't help but blush at Ashara's kind words. She had never received such kind words before in her life, other than the occasional comment by a guest of the Chateau on how cute she was. Her words were not only a compliment to her intelligence and manners though. There was more. This wasn't an offhand remark on her appearance, this was a promise. A pledge to be her shelter for any trying times the two may face on this mission for Lord Rodias. Perhaps it was naive to believe that this vulpine woman could protect her from any danger, but when it was declared with such determination she couldn't help but believe that Ashara really could defeat any attacker and save her from any danger that came to her person. She probably read one too many adventure stories.

With a determined nod of her head, Kath replied back, "Alright. I'll do my best to support you as well. If anything comes our why, we'll face it side-by-side." Just to emphasize this promise, the dragonoid closed her eyes and took a step forward, finally crossing the threshold into this new world. For the first time ever, she had left Chateau Gothika and the world felt ever so bigger for it. "I can do it," she whispered to herself as her eyes opened again, taking in the scenery with a new perspective. With a smile toward her traveling companion, she said, "Let begin our trek," and began to walk toward the sleepy village that sat so quietly beneath their home.

As the two walked through the mountain, Kath would remain equally alert as Ashara, though for different reasons. Where the kitsune was on the look out for danger, the dragon was on the look out for information. Every moment she did not spend watching her step, she would be writing and drawing inside one of the two large tomes she had brought with her. Evidently, that book had been mostly blank and was now in use as a journal to record all of the various flora and fauna the twosome passed. She may have even asked Ashara to stop several moments to make sure her quick sketches and descriptions remained as accurate as possible, if not for the fact that they had a mission assigned to them and taking frequent stops would significantly slow their progress.

Her interest would divert back to Ashara when she made her transformation to a more human form though. Kath couldn't help but continue being the nosy explorer as watched, wondering to herself if everyone appeared that way when changing themselves in such a way. It wasn't often she had seen her fellow Chateau-residents make such a alteration to their person, and while she herself had the similar ability of multiple forms, she had never been in the mood to look upon a mirror as it happened.

The village was nice and peaceful, almost exactly how Kath had imagined the home of many heroes looked like before they began their journey. She almost had to fight off the ability to skip through town and enjoy its tranquil aura. It was probably a good thing she was successful as well, as the man that confronted them may have been even more hostile to their presence if she did something that would draw so much attention to the pair.

"My ap-" Kath would begin, before stopping to clear her throat. As Ashara had said, they were soldiers of fortune, people not exactly well known for their manners if the stories she read were true. Speaking formally would possibly gain them suspicion. "Sorry if..." 'Previous encounters.' That's what she wanted to say, but again she had to pause to remind herself to drop her usual demeanor to keep up the act given to them by her lord. "Some run in you had with one of my kind went sour for you, sir. I hope you'll find me and my partner here more pleasant to deal with than other Dragonscarred," she began. She liked that word, 'Dragonscarred.' It rolled off the tongue well.

"As she said, we are mercenaries, though we've only taken up the profession rather recently. We were hoping to find someplace for work while we made our way North. It doesn't have to be anything violent of course. We're not above doing some chores if it'll give us enough to pay for a bed and food later on," Kath said, interested in seeing what these people used for currency. Coinage could tell you a lot about a nation. They were covered in symbols and people that the citizens most likely valued. If these people didn't have coin and worked on a barter system instead, it would tell them that they were probably on the fringes of the nation they called home. Maybe even independent with no ruler, though that seemed unlikely with such a man as this acting as the village's guardian.

Light wasn't too surprised that the boss man didn't have a task for her. After all, her task was to basically safeguard a powerful artifact for the guild unlike the chapter keepers who had a variety of tasks. Seeing as many of them were going with the goblin king to deal with that village, Light figured she'd lounge about and see what the other chapter keepers were up to. Hearing Graft's little sales pitch before he left gave Light an idea, and decided to pay the guy a visit while he and Salem started to make items.

Waving the others off, giving Ashara a sly comment about how she "Needed to get a bit bigger." before going off in her own direction, taking the longer way to Graft's floor. Now, while Light didn't go around the Chateau very often, she did know where everyone's rooms were and how to get there. After all, best to learn where everyone and anyone can hide if they ever stole something. So while it did take her a bit of time, she made her way to his floor as well. Approaching the entrance to his floor, Light decided to draw a quick pattern on the wall, allowing her to teleport here later if neeeded, before knocking and poking her head into the industrious area. "Hello? Graft? I've got a job for youuuu~~" Light said, looking for Graft within his area.

If one were observing Light as she moved throughout the area, she tended to keep herself away from anything that looked like it was made of iron or was some kind of metallic restraining device. One could assume those items spooked her, and they'd be right. However, while she kept her distance from such items, she did so in a sing-songy way to make it seem like she didn't actually care. She moved through the area, looking for its owner Graft. Eventually she'd find the man in Production.

When Light found him, she came up to Graft, saying. "So, I can explore, decided to explore your place first... Think you can make me a few things production wise when your done with Salem's little project there?" Light said, her hands twitching a bit due to that order of her to 'not hug' anyone of the chateau. "Like, some saw blades for a new trap in the vault area, or something so boss man will let me hug people... or maybe a big fuck off giant bomb? Last one could be loads of fun later on!" She continued, swaying back and forth in a bit of a sing-songy, almost car dealership balloon person way. Not being able to give Graft a hug was clearly making her agitated, keeping her in constant motion as she talked.

@The Irish Tree @Lugubrious @IceHeart @Inkarnate

As Salem hovered by Graft, waiting in the foyer for Rodias to arrive, Salem was glad to see Graft excited, having not taken any disagreements to heart. In that way, Director Graft was predictably dependable, being impartial and utilitarian under most circumstances, admirable traits Salem did not possess.

As Rodias arrived and laid out his plan, Salem nodded along, listening. Flan came by to serve tea but Salem merely looked down his nose at the stuff. Nutrition was a weakness of living things, so Salem ignored the maid for the most part, having no use for someone with her function. When Rodias expressed the assumption that Salem might prefer not to be privy to the things rats see, Salem let out a laugh. "The world of the living is covered in filth, so birds or vermin matter little. Besides, birds finding their way indoors is an anomaly, while vermin being indoors is a given. Birds are fine for seeing what happens on the streets, but we'll need vermin to see what goes on people's houses." A sinister grin crossed Salem's face as the doll reveled in the idea of violating people's privacy, not for lewd reasons, but just because Salem liked the idea of seeing people's true selves against their will or knowledge. But as Rodias left to attend to other matters, Graft brought up a good point. Unless they knew what the local fauna looked like, they had nothing for their infiltrating puppets to mimic. Graft instead offered a tour of the Factory, and seeing nothing better to do, Salem agreed to follow along. Flying into the elevator after Graft, Salem said with a huff, "Geez, Graft, don't rush me like that!" It wasn't that the doll hated to be rushed, Salem simply hated being compelled to do anything, even it it was simply being compelled to hurry up. Despite being a puppet, Salem hated dancing to anyone else's tune. But Salem knew that 'time is money' was probably an adage that Graft followed, and wasn't going to start a fight over it; pouting and sulking for a bit was enough for Salem.

---

@Archmage MC

Salem followed Graft, taking in the scenery, such as it was, of the Factory. However, as Graft communicated with his subordinates, something in his speech indicated something was...off, piquing Salem's interest. "Is something interesting going on?" Salem asked, fully intending to follow Graft to Production. As they were intercepted by Light, Salem greeted the Vault Keeper, "Sister Light! The Director isn't making anything for me currently, so feel free to cut in line." Salem offered, cheekily making Light's request seem more imposing than it really was.

---

Much to Flan's delight quite a few of the chapter keepers and company found their way over to her. Gromgard was always a courteous fellow as he took one of her cookies for himself. There were times when she also fed the goblins but as they had...underdeveloped taste buds it was rather easy to cook to their tastes. She didn't mind them at all of course but they weren't the best at compliments. As for Gromgard himself, he was pleasant enough to serve and could easily enjoy his company.

That little stink, Zouyu had managed to take off with six of her cookies, but thankfully she had overstocked her tray so there was enough left for those who wanted them. As the gardener he was quite vital to keeping her stores in stock and so she made sure to keep on good terms with him. He was a bit hard to actually serve though, always bouncing around and never keeping still she could find him exasperating at times.

Kath was a bit of a recluse and a sweetheart. As someone who would visit all chapter keepers on occassion, except those who had no need for food like the doll Salem, Flan actually probably saw the dragonoid more often than many of the other residents. Because of her personality however, it could be hard to get the compliments and praise that Flan craved from the others.

Another taker of her sweets was the head maid Mamoru, who gleefully accepted her contributions and told her how 'sweet' she was. Flan couldn't help but melt and blush a bit at the compliment but unfortunately that was the end to said compliments as work took priority. Flan could almost always count on getting a power boost from her superior as she was not at all ashamed at lavishing her with praise. Flan quite enjoyed all the attention and how much the head maid seemed to enjoy her creations.

The void monster, Light, also had decided to stick around to devour anything that was left over. Light was one of the more unusual members of the Chateau. constantly hungry it was possible to serve Light at any time which was kind of nice, but that also meant Light could never truly be satisfied by her meals. Light was also a hazard to be around, thankfully for Flan, with her high natural resistances and status effect resistance ring she could withstand her void abilities and insanity for a short while with no ill-effects, still prolonged exposure was bad but it was easy enough to ooze her way out of any unsanctioned hugs from her. Needless to say Light actually made quite a good guinea pig for new recipes that she wasn't confident in yet.

Ashara was one who also decided to take her up on her offer of refreshments. Ashara was frankly just a joy to watch when she served her. Every swish of her tail and curve of her lips betrayed her absolute delight when she was enjoying one of her dishes. Compliments poured out from her lips and the way she reacted with every bite was downright adorable. Flan always had great fun watching her reactions to every delicious dish she prepared.

"Oh, and Miss Flan. Could I perhaps bring one of these cookies along on our trip?" Ashara asked Flan, who like any excellent chef had the equipment for take out if needed.

"Of course Lady Ashara. I have just the thing for your trip." taking one of the tea cookies, she wrapped it up in a delightful little handkerchief. The handkerchief was a light lavender with exquisite white trim, a lady's handkerchief to be sure. Actually Flan had special handkerchiefs for each chapter keeper as her own personal touch when serving them. The handkerchiefs were reusable so when a chapter keeper was done with theirs for the time being, they could deposit it in a special basket she had set up near the kitchen entrance. The handkerchief would then be washed and could be used again for the next snack they would enjoy.

"Please do enjoy Lady Ashara and have a safe trip." With a bow she handed over the handkerchief with the cookie inside.

Soon enough everyone had to leave for their various duties. Flan deposited the few left overs with the bottomless pit, Light, and then returned to her domain the kitchen.

---

@The Irish Tree
After finishing the last of the dinners for the night, and cleaning up the kitchen, Flan decided to retire for the night. Flan took off her uniform, hanging it up on a peg near the back of the kitchen and slithered over to her bed, a large wooden tub. Flan slipped her way into the tub and settled down into a large puddle of purple goo. As a slime, how she relaxed was to completely let herself go, losing control of her body she conformed herself to the shape of the tub. If one were to look into the tub, it would appear to be full of purple jello with yellow orbs and a ring floating around in it, her status resistance ring which she never took off.

She had been sleeping in the tub for a little while when she was roused from her sleep by the pleasant sound of Master Rodias, "Flan? I hate to ask at this late hour, but could you please prepare something for me to eat?"

Flan accidentally blew a bubble which popped out of her body as she quickly tried to rouse herself which was a rather embarrassing thing to do but thankfully she was far enough in the back she doubted he noticed. She kind of flopped out of the tub as she tried to wake herself and clumsily created tendrils to reach for her maid uniform. "Of course Master Rodias...just give me a moment to prepare."

Flan managed to grab the maid uniform, which promptly fell on top of her with her clumsy efforts. Slightly flustered by her mistake, she trembled a bit as she quickly reshaped herself into her uniform and before long was standing upright as control over her own shape came back to her as she woke up. Flan quickly checked herself in a mirror to make sure her uniform was unwrinkled and her body was correctly shaped as the proper slime maid she was. With a nod of satisfaction, she quickly went to greet her lord.

"Please forgive the delay Master Rodias, I will whip up a light snack for you right away!" Flan flashed her best smile and with a curtsey she quickly went to work. First she directed Master Rodias to a small table were she placed some crackers and aged cheese for him to much on while she prepared his real snack. As this was technically a midnight snack it had to be light but at the same time this was a rare opportunity to directly cook for her master so she wanted to show off a bit as well. Master Rodias was a Dhampire so of course whatever she made had to have meat, so she decided to get some mutton from cold storage.

Flan fired up the stove and placed the cold mutton in a skillet, she added a little water to help heat up the meat and add some moisture. As it cooked she added spices: salt, pepper, rosemary, cinnamon, thyme, sage, onions, and a hint of mint. Within a few short minutes, a wonderful smell wafted through the kitchen as she added a few finishing touches before putting the small mutton chop on a plate and drizzling it with some lime juice. The small mutton chop was moist and tender, spiced to perfection in order to entice the mouth to salivate in preparation for the joy it would bring to the tongue.

"I hope it is to you liking Master Rodias." Flan respectfully placed the tantalizing cut in front of him and started to twirl her 'hair' around with a finger as she waited for his verdict. Had she managed to impress him with her skills on such short notice? Had she been a little too ambitious and taken too long to prepare his dish. Flan waited with bated breathe at what Master Rodias would say to her.

Freedom granted, Chuunitrixx turned stood upon her balcony, and looked out to the cityscape before and beyond her. Raising a fist to her mouth, she cleared her throat, and her voice rippled across the town.

“

Harken on to my image, and hear my words, clear. Today, we are free; behold of all that is ashen stone beneath our feet. Enderall City Corpse is a misnomer, henceforth, because this city is no more a corpse than you or all. Enderall, she breathes, as I, as you, as we all! And, because she breaths, she grows. Lord Rodias has sought fit to allow her growth go unstinted, as long as we are controlled.

So, shall we be.

For you children of her womb, precious and many, her Swarm, her Hive; her love is all given to you, freely and copiously in the very lands that nurture you, shelter you; her love in intellable in depth. For she is the child of my womb, precocious, yet mature, my daughter, my gift; my affection is all her to command, so she many share it so; infinite and everlasting.

As was that of my mother. For, as the sun rises, sets, and days dawn and dusk, we are all children of Lady Traptrix, for whom my Hivequeen title was given before out Matriarch stepped down, and left us. Yes, left us; not somber children, shedding wasteful tears of loss and regret, but determined children -- eyes towards the future. A future, we can, here and now, dare hold in our hands, and take for ourselves.

So, stand, children of my daughter, loyal, brave, and gather yourself against the coming storm. Enderall, my child, you may yet see another sunrise upon your stones of ash and blood. Tonight, we prepare! In the morning, we move onto this new world!

As Chuunitrix spoke, her subjects did listen, and they did receive... adulation, jubilation, adoration, and understanding that they were of a higher, greater purpose. No longer confined to their city, alone, but the world at large. And, it was so very large. In service of their Hivequeen, they would explore it restlessly and ceaselessly; unless they were pulled into their proper service.

As the night waned, and Chuunitrix assembled five Exploration Teams of 20; 10 Survivors, 4 Sentries, 4 Proxies, and 2 Concreep Mixers. Each listed: Alpha, Beta, Delta, Epsilon, and Gamma. Each dispatched in the cardinal direction; Beta to the East, Delta to the West, Epsilon to the South, and Gamma to the North; Alpha was hers, and would move as she did.

The plan was simple: Scout and Settle. A night march of twenty miles, gathering information, supplies, and understanding of the layout of the land in all four directions, before settled to raise a forward base in the disguise of a fledgling village. Traptrixx had been an avid strategist, and Chuunitrixx would use the knowledge passed onto her.

Or, at least, attempt to.

In reality, the mind games we saw, theorized, and planned out weren’t promised to us. There was failure around all corners, and Chuunitrixx was gambling on none.

“Rodi, I wish I knew... if I’m doing this right...” Chuunitrixx says, standing on the steeple roof of the Chateau Gothika.

Within the space of twenty miles, the mimic scouts would come to find that setting up the fledgling village would prove a simple task in the midst of the night. The distance from the village that Kath and Ashara were sent to survey from any other civilizations in the area was easily over a few dozen miles and thus no resistance would be offered, save for the few wild beasts that would attack in the dark of night. But, miles away from prying eyes the mimics were free to supplant themselves in the countryside. In fact, each squad save for Gamma would encounter little to no difficulty in their search.

Beta’s eastern march would take them near the area of the village which would give them an idea of what a settlement of the world would probably look like, if emulated appropriately.

Delta’s western march would take them further over the mountains and along the coast, letting them feel the temperature gradually shift towards a slightly warmer climate. Despite this, there was little in the way of civilization along the shore, save for the occasional shipwrecked mass.

Epsilon’s southern march would take them along the mountain range that the Chateau now found itself a part of. The high mountain tops proved to be an excellent place from which to survey the entirety of the countryside. Settlement would be difficult atop the mountains, but the slopes contained enough resources to fashion them a suitable shelter. For now, at least.

Gamma would encounter the great obstacle of water, a sparkling sea covered in patches of ice to the North. Judging from the temperature and the boreal forests dotting the landscape, they were far to the North of this world. Far into the distance they could see the presence of a pristine continent of ice, a gargantuan landmass some hundreds of miles away that appeared as if a glittering diamond amongst the sapphire sea. Far across the ocean, however, they could see a gleaming castle that seemed to be sculpted of pure snow and ice, towering higher than any mountain they’d seen so far. Further examination would let them see a small city had grown around the tower, built of the same materials.

For miles and miles, the day would be filled with music; a grand symphony played at length from the sun’s rise to its set. Standing upon the steeple roof of the Chateau Gothika, its conductor and star vocalist: Chuunitrixx. Harmoniously, with her Exploration Team Alpha, the Hivequeen sang and sang; voice carrying grandly, and conversing with her other teams.

Immediately, Beta would settle in; replicating what they saw. Delta would do likewise, but appropriate themselves abreast the wreckage for culture and material. Epsilon would meet their challenge, as Delta had theirs, and dig in to what they had. Gamma would settle more cautiously, and explore the iced-over sea when they’re firmer roots.

Once settled, one and all, Chuunitrixx would start to funnel resources to them; a village was more than ten, and their protection, while adequate for the wildlife, would do little against properly arms foes, if they case in mass -- a new village cried weak against Raiders.

Raiders would be the least of the survivor’s problems. Rain would come in halfway through the day, blanketing a large amount of the area surrounding Beta and Epsilon’s area. The bitter cold that Gamma faced was matched by the fierceness of the land itself. Kaldorna’s party should they arrive there would have found it a far more savage, hostile land blanketed in snow. Beasts of mass and fur, tusk and fang, savagery and might towered over the Gamma team. Safety lied in numbers, and by the end of the day, two had died from wounds delivered by the beasts; a Proxy and a Survivor. This place was certainly not safe, but it was the firmest foothold to the ice of the north one could gain.

Epsilon would fare the best of all the teams, their destination being of fair temperament and more human contact than they could anticipate. Raiders weren’t present, but in the shadows of the brush they could feel themselves being watched as they made a clearing to start their village.

Chuunitrix would continue to sing and generate her resources. It was all she could think to do. She knew her plan wasn’t perfect, but the needed a foothold in their world that was under their control. It was her job to supply such a thing.

Even if she didn’t know how, beyond building territory.

---

Collab with @The Irish Tree

Barely had the Director taken a step toward his new location of interest than a hail from behind demanded his attention, and he didn't need to see the owner of the voice to identify her. “Well, if it isn't Light.” He span around to face her and planted his cane before him to lean on it with both hands. He fully intended to say more, as a man more than comfortable hogging the limelight, but the eldritch thing didn't let him get another word in before proceeding in earnest to outline what she wanted. Fixing her with a coy smile, he intoned, “Well certainly! We here in the factor cater to all manner of clientele, even offering custom items. For the right price.” Unless ordered otherwise but a sufficient authority, the industrialist harbored no intention of doing a smidgen of work for free. He wondered how Light would take it; she didn't exactly seem the sensible type. Indeed, she instead started listing off potential items while rocking back and forth, fidgeting ceaselessly.

The last thing in the list got a sincere chuckle out of Graft, mostly due to its phrasing. “Deadly blades, of course. Explosives, definitely. Hugging...who knows? There isn't anything a sharp mind and willing hands can't do.” He pronounced the axiom with gusto, then gave Light a wink. “If sufficiently motivated.” It occurred to him: did she even have money? As a vault guardian it seemed like a must, but one could never tell anything for certain with Light. Ultimately, it did not matter, since Graft happily dealt in anything of value. Right now, no propositions lay on the table, however much Salem appeared to be hyping Light's request up.

Graft snuck a glance at the unreal boy. Surely, referring to Light as a sibling was a precept of his instilled by his creator? Who in their right mind could think of such a creature so fondly? Why, just standing here being civilized with her gave him a headache. No doubt he meant it in a mocking way, which summarized the doll's behavior rather thoroughly. Squeezing the bridges of his nose, Graft shook his head to clear the gnawing haze. “Really, that aura,” he remarked to the eldritch one, his tone chiding. “I simply must develop a dampener at some point. Having that would be its own reward.”

With a final shake of his head and blinking of his eyes, he put on another smile and turned back toward the far end of the Processing Center. “But one thing at a time. Let's see what's behind Lady Penn's special door. Follow if you wish, but if she returns I shall have grounds to insist you made me do it.” Snickering, he waltzed onward, circling around the enormous, bulging core that hummed away busily. A number of Guards stood around it, watching from grotesque masklike faces with weapons in hand. Had Light not been on the whitelist, her arrival in the Factory would have triggered an alert the moment a Guard or sensor discovered her, turning the whole place into a deathtrap. Graft expected that various Guards watched over her as she found her way through the place, but none would have given her any trouble. He prided his domain on treating welcome guests with a sense of decency, unlike some Chapters.

In short order Graft reached the other side. There, the ribbed wall narrowed down to a singular point, where singular door lay hidden in the darkness. As Graft approached, a woman stepped from the shadows. Shorter than him by a head, she wore an elegant but smart dress, like a particularly fashionable doctor. Most notably, instead of a head, the woman featured a giant heart instead, its many protruding arteries arranged like cords of hair with the help of metal clasps. She had no face, merely a few blue veins in the vague shape of eyes that pulsed with light to the beat of her heart, but a bubbly voice issued from it regardless. “Hello, Director.”

Graft inclined his head to her. “Papillary, my faithful assistant,” he greeted. His eyes remained on her for only a second before landing on the murky, ominous door. “So, here we are. Ready to investigate the strange banging noises coming from our creator's forbidden door, hmm?”

Papillary winced, clamping her hands together in front of where a human's heart would be. “Sir...are we really going to do this? It's so...unwise. She'll surely find out, and when she does, what then?”

Unperturbed, Graft blew off her worries with a wave of his hand. “Pshaw. Rodias gave us his word that the other Sable Lords are interminably indisposed. Besides, maybe she intended for us to find it. A keepsake. No, a legacy! And think of the possibilities, dear Papillary! There could be a wondrous treasure, worth millions. A brilliant technology that could revolutionize the Factory. A spectacle so incredible that we can charge admission just to see it, like an attraction in a county fair!” Graft's eyes glowed with greed. “That last one I plan to do anyway, by the way. Make a note of it.”

His assistant produced a notepad and hurriedly jotted that notion down. Graft wanted for her to finish and put away the pad, then motion to the door. “Now, if you'll do the honors.”

For a moment Papillary stood still, then pointed to herself and squeaked, “M-me?”

Graft crackled. “Yes, you! What are you waiting for, the grass to grow? Grass is a feature for next quarter! Get it open, would you?”

“O-of course!” Papillary rushed over to the handle, hesitated, then tried it and found it locked. A moment's examination determined that it was locked from her side, so with ginger hands she undid the lock. She then took a deep breath, her heart pounding, and heaved the door open.

Inside Graft saw a small chamber lined with identical furniture, mostly couches. It was carpeted, with wooden walls, and softly lit, a far cry from the adjoining Factory in style. However, Graft wasn't looking at the furnishings. Lying in a heap on the floor was an extraordinary woman with stone-gray skin, black-and-purple hair, and tubular black horns, tail, and wings. She could only be some kind of demon, but she wore a pure-white dress, now disheveled, that accentuated a gratuitous bust. Graft guessed she had once been strikingly beautiful, but the woman was badly wounded. Bruises, gashes, and other marks practically covered her. Her face in particular was a mess of welts and swelling. Everything about his screamed broken, battered, and weak. Graft wasted only one second taking this in, stony-faced, before tendrils erupted from beneath his coat. The technoorganic tentacles spread out in a fan formation in the doorway, completely blocking it.

“What's in there?” Papillary asked in a shaky voice, clearly concerned by Graft's sudden action, and one that exposed his true nature at that.

The words prompted the crumpled woman to shift slightly, feebly trying to look up at the figure in the doorway. Graft didn't need to look at her eyes to confirm his suspicions, but he did anyway. “I'll handle it,” he told his assistant as he held out a hand. A complicated apparatus appeared and Graft deployed it, tossing it onto the ground to unfurl and rise up. Inside the mechanism a technoorganic heart began to beat, and after another moment of setup it extended its tendrils to inject the prone figure. Restorative blood began to flow, and as he watched Graft noticed that the demon's wounds appeared to heal much faster than they should. Low health, low defenses, easily hurt by basic interactions of a high-level entity. She must be very low level. Created for a singular purpose. “Attend to my guests. I'll be along shortly,” he continued for Papillary, before addressing his guests. “My esteemed compeers. The Factory is yours to explore. I would ask that you avoid the Production Center specifically, but you can go with Papillary to the laboratory if you want to see me work, or have her set things up if you'd like to contribute to progress by testing my latest specimen's mettle.” Neither could have missed the technoorganic wyvern laying in the middle of the Testing Room as they made their way through.

The machine worked for another couple of seconds until it could do no more, then retracted its arteries to wait for its duration to run out. When the others were gone, Graft pulled back his own tentacles and knelt. “From this moment on, you're hired.” She stared at him, uncomprehending, through half-lidded pink eyes. The corners of his mouth tightened. Low intelligence too. “That means you're under my protection. I intend to look after my employees, as a good boss should. Let us put aside costs and duties for now and get you to my office for treatment.” He used his throat to release a distinctive tone and the nearest squad of Guards came running. At Graft's instruction, they picked her up with utmost care, and the director himself took off his coat and laid it over her to hide her from view. He led the group toward his office with his upper both clad in only vest and shirt, both backless, the mottled nanoflesh and carpet of tentacle heads clearly visible.

"Take them alive." Gromgard said, watching as his goblins swarmed the pair of remaining cultists. His eyes had returned to normal at this point. Because of the immediate surrender, he was going to show them the error of their ways. He knew they'd end up as bloodstains on the floor when he was finished.

Once the cultists were bound, he stood and watched the direction Mamoru had gone off in. "Scouts," he said with a nod, "find her and make sure she knows about these two." He motioned to the prisoners.

As he watched the scouts run off into the trees to find Mamoru, he let his mind wander back to his first words. Despite not speaking much to anyone else, he always spoke volumes with his creator. Strategies did require a lot of communication. Orders, on the other hand, did not. It hadn't even been an hour after his creation and introduction to the Chateau that he was involved in his first battle, one to defend their home. With specialized groups of goblins in precise locations, the small group that had attacked that day hadn't made it through the first hallway.

-----

@Lucius Cypher

It didn't take the scouts long to find Mamoru. They landed around her and her catch with laughs.

"Poopy!" One shouted, throwing a small rock from the ground at the man's immobile foot.

"No walk?" another asked, moving to stand beside Mamoru.

"Lord has two!" a third laughed as he grabbed a dead tree branch, one that would shatter on impact. With the branch, he ran up to the attempted escapee and slammed it on his head. "We take three?" he asked as the last two moved to grab the now unconscious man by his shoulders to drag him.

"Torture!" the first goblin laughed, beginning to do cartwheels.

Mamoru stepped forward towards the wounded man, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her expression however had no hint of pity or remorse, not even disgust from the man’s own emissions. When he asked her a question, Mamoru simply reached out and grabbed him by the neck. “I will be asking the questions here. Who are you, and the rest of these masked men, and where do you come from?” Despite only using only one hand and being of fairly lithe frame, Mamoru had no issues lifting this man up with one arm. “Speak quickly. You’ve harmed a comrade of mine and I have no patience for fools and fanatics.”

The cultist struggled against Mamoru’s grip, his hands desperately trying to get her’s off of his neck. There was a part of him that wanted to reach for the dagger on his belt, but he had the faintest feeling that would get his neck snapped. Quickly. He couldn’t even move his legs from either the shock to his system, or the fact that he might now be a parapalegic. ”I-I’ll tell you anything you want! Just don’t kill me! W-We’re followers of Ditronius...and we were looking for random drifters. People nobody would miss. I-I’m from Gronbell,” he would say, desperate to just not die in this moment.

Followers if Ditronius? Not a name that was familiar to Mamoru. Some sort of local deity perhaps? This truly wasn’t Yggdrasil. This got her very excited: she was practically exploring uncharted territory! However she could not reveal her excitement to the cultist. She was the Maiden of Steel right now, as cold and rigid as the executioner’s blade.

“I am not from these lands. Those names mean nothing to me. Listen well, scum. You live for as long as you are useful to me. Where are the rest of these cultists, what do they intend to do with these drifters, and where is Gronbell?” As a show of intimidation in case this man’s loyalty proved greater than the fear of his life, suddenly he and Mamoru would appear at the top of the tallest tree nearby. This time Mamoru held him below her, allowing the moon to illuminate her face as he would notice how previously high he was. Even if he had functional legs, a drop from this height will be a painful death.

The man would scream as he was suddenly atop the tallest tree, flailing about a bit. ”A-Alright, I said I’d tell you everything! Just don’t drop me!” he would say, physically trembling before he would continue. ”W-We’re making sacrifices to Ditronus...so we find random country travelers. I-In cities, we use the homeless instead. Our faith is...is all over, in secret corners. Nobody knows where the head church is though, I swear! You can ask any of my friends down there! A-And um...Gronbell is Southwest of here. About sixty miles…”

The cultist began trembling again, considering the possibility that now, Mamoru could use his home as collateral.

“Where are these sacrifices taking place? Vile scum, I’ve half a mind to sacrifice you to my creator myself. Pray to whatever god shall listen that the only thing that saved you is your weakness.” The more she heard this man speak the more Mamoru’s anger build. To exploit the weak and attack the innocent. Even when she was but a minion under her master’s command, they had always sought to hunt greater beast than themselves. They did not pointlessly slaughter the weak even for their own gain. Yet these cultist do so in reverence of a god. He probably doesn’t even get offered fine food and drink. “My patience, much like my grip, grows tired. Speak quickly now.”

”WE TAKE THEM IN THE WOODS AND DO IT! OKAY?” The cultist would shout, holding onto Mamoru’s hand to try and not get dropped.

Not even a dedicated grounds for these sacrifices? Barely even a cult. At this point Mamoru had enough of this man and quickly crushed his throat. A swift death as she descends back to the ground. As she did so she made sure to loot any items on this man, including his mask and weapons, using his own shirt to cover his face and bind his hands behind his back. Then Mamoru stabbed a Phoenix Feather into his chest. A low level revival item, as long as the target has died within one minute, it would restore them back to life with approximately 8% of their health. It also had the secondary benefits of healing wounds and toxins, so when this man would come to he would find his spine no longer broken and capable of walking. But he would have other problems by that point.

Around this time the goblins showed up, knocking the man out and questioning what they should do with him. Perhaps he could still be useful. Turning to the goblins Mamoru’s expression softened. “Take this one back to your master and let him know we have three prisoners to question. In fact, let us go together, there is much I need to speak to him about which will be important for our lord.” Once the goblins had the cultist secured Mamoru would escort them back to Gromgard.

“Greetings Gromgard. I apologize for my tardiness. I was caught in a conversation with our new guest here. He’s told me quite a few things of interest. Things which may keep us in these woods for a short while longer. Care to listen?”

@Rockin Strings

---

Meanwhile, the Mamoru clone had been looking for Rodias. She had taken careful precaution to avoid directly seeing or being seen by her fellow Chapter masters: they’d surely question the clone about why she wasn’t doing the task that Rodias had assigned them, and she didn’t want to tell them she was actually a copy made specifically to watch over him. Mamoru had no intentions of sharing this sacred duty with anyone else while the real copy had to go do some menial task. Plus, even though she was a clone, she had the originals own memories, thoughts, and feelings. She felt a certain dogged loyalty to Rodias now that she was without her Creator, but at the same time Mamoru wanted to understand. Understand what made the Creators so great. What Mamoru had to do to stand alongside the likes of her Creator as an equal, not and underling.

It was the combined emotions of wanting to protect and serve her master, while also getting stronger. Lazy as she can be, Mamoru still wants to be strong so she can afford to relax instead of constantly worried about the life and wellbeing of herself and her loved ones. She’s always had the Chateau’s walls and the Creators to protect her before, but now it was truly time for Mamoru to learn how to defend herself. And to that end, once she found Rodias she would follow him in silence and from a distance. She didn’t have many skills in stealth, but her sheer agility would hopefully make up for what she lacks in specific skills. It was here that Mamoru showed her restraint as she would follow Rodias to places like Flan’s kitchen and Oz’s forge, and refrain from trying to swipe any snacks or gawk at the constructs and creations. Mamoru had a job to do after all.

@Lucius Cypher

Gromgard smiled to himself as Mamoru and the scouts returned with a third living prisoner. "They'll be safe in my torture room. We can get our answers there." With a wave of his hand, he sent the goblins with the 3 prisoners back to the Chateau. With the exceptions of the 5 scouts and the pair of artists, the rest went back through the tunnel, which closed behind them. Looking at Penn and Shill, he made sure they knew to stay close. He didn't want them to get lost or attacked again. He then sent the scouts into the trees to act as their hidden guard.

Looking to Mamoru, he nodded to her to lead the way. "Lead the way, milady." he smirked, curious about what she had planned.

As they traveled further into the forest, Penn and Shill kept stopping to make quick sketches about pictures they wanted to draw. At one point, they asked for a break for a particularly difficult scene they wanted to draw with Gromgard and Mamoru posing in it. Gromgard didn't give in until they began pleading for his magnificence to be captured in their art. He didn't know how Mamoru would act.

---

The moments she waited for Master Rodias to take his first bite were some of the longest she had ever felt in her life, her skills were being put to the ultimate test, kind of. Anticipation and dread welled up in her jelly as she pulled a bit tightly on her hair tendril with her twirled finger. All her eyes watched as the Sable Lord took the first bite.

The first knife cut, the first plucked meat cube, the first bite. As soon as his lips descended on the succulent morsel his cape suddenly flared up as if a flock of bats had been disturbed and his head became downcast. Flan started to panic and her entire body stiffened in response. Had she messed up with the balance of spices? Had that bit of lime been a bit too much? Maybe her cooking time had been off and part of the meat had been under or over cooked? There were so many little things that could reduce the quality of a cut of meat and she tried desperately to think of what little thing had ruined her creation.

Before she could descend any further into self-inflicted horror, Rodias started to absolutely devour the meat dish. Her mind already set on a rather destructive path she was absolutely agast when he went into turbo mode. Did he hate it so much that he had to completely speed through his meal to avoid tasting the mutton? Flan's hands flew up to her cheeks in fear and all she could do was stare in shock as her master daintily wiped off whatever remained of her creation from his handsome features, a look of pure grace and elegance despite having just devoured her terrible food.

Flan gulped as Master Rodias rose to look her straight in the eyes, Flan wanted to collapse into a puddle and slink away but there was no way she could be rude to her master. Still what could she had done that could have possibly messed up her dish? Frankly there was absolutely nothing that should have messed it up. If she found out that Master Rodias didn't appreciate her hard work because of something outside of her control...frankly she wasn't sure she would be able to forgive him. Before her thoughts could turn more dark however, Master Rodias next words put everything in the Universe in their correct places.

"Flan, that was...wonderful. No...I should be honest. That may be the single best thing I've ever eaten in my life. And, thank you for indulging me." Instantly all the dark thoughts swirling in Flan's mind were washed away in Master Rodia's astounding praise. Flan quickly latched onto the praise and started to squirm around in embarrassment, her cheeks flushed a darker color in as she drank in his praise.

"Oh please Master Rodias it was no trouble, no trouble at all. It is my utmost pleasure to indulge your every whim, please don't hesitate to call upon my services at any time, anywhere! Fufufu." Flan's eyes closed in happiness as she started to giggle a little, though her other eyes sparkled in gratitude. Flan had to turn around for a moment to gain control over herself before turning back to the Sable Master and tried to look as prim and proper as she could but still had a bit of a grin on her face.

While she was over the moon she was also able to remember something most urgent that she needed to discuss with the Sable Master. She interlaced her fingers together and looked down a bit so she wasn't looking up at his face, though her eyes glanced up at his from time to time, like an innocent young girl asking for a favor in a bashful way. "Master Rodias, while I will do my utmost to provide my best service for you and the Chateau, umm there is something very important I want to ask. I know it is probably not a top priority for you right now considering our situation but..."

As Flan trailed off she started to fidget a bit and her hair started to curl around in strange patterns as she tried to think of how best to ask the Sable Lord of her predicament. She started to play around with her maid outfit's apron and her eyes started to dart around a bit as if unsure of what to do.

"While I am sure we will be fine food wise after we've explored a bit...I'm really worried about our spice supplies. I'm sure I can stretch it out for a bit if I start to shirk on spices but if we don't find some new supplies soon the quality of our dishes is sure to plummet. I want to be able to provide everyone with quality meals so we can keep up morale while we find ourselves in this strange land!" Flan was sure to bring up the point of morale, but of course the real reason she wanted a new spice supply was so she could keep the compliments flowing her direction, which was something she absolutely craved. She was afraid if she was forced to scimp on seasoning that the Chateau wouldn't appreciate her as much and her stock in the guild would plummet, this was something she absolutely needed to avoid.

"Well, please just keep that in mind, I wish to be able to serve you to my utmost abilities at all times! In the meantime please don't hesitate to call upon my services any time you have a craving!" Flan clasped her hands together and looked up with her pure, yellow eyes as large and shiny as two full moons.

"Is there anything else I can do for you Master Rodias?"