@Lugubrious @Archmage MC

Salem perked up upon hearing that their destination was "Lady Penn's special and forbidden door". Because of Dr.Drd and Brushen Penn's rivalry, Salem jumped at the opportunity to see some of Lady Penn's secrets, and to be shown them by Graft himself! After a few moments of waiting impatiently for the door to open, whatever was inside was quickly obscured by Graft's limbs. Peering, Salem attempted to hover around for a better vantage point, but the area covered by Graft's tentacles combined with the narrow doorway made the attempt a futile one. "Hey! Heeey~! What is it? I wanna seee~!" Salem whined, but Graft refused even to answer Papillary, his subordinate, and Salem knew better than to get close to Graft when he revealed his inhuman parts. Still Salem continued to try to get a glimpse, but to no avail, until Graft offered Salem and Light a few choices. Salem assumed Graft offering to let them see him work in the Laboratory had something to do with the thing he was carrying in his arms, so Salem really didn't have much of a choice, as far as the doll's curiosity was concerned. "The Laboratory it is!" Salem remarked, "Lead the way, Papillary!"

It seems that for now, Salem was along for the ride. The abandoned mannequin couldn't pass up an opportunity to learn some of their esteemed Sable Lords' secrets.

"Aw, money?" Light said, upon hearing Graft say that he would only make the stuff she requested. "I don't know what part of whats in the vault is mine and what is the guilds. I kinda used that for storage for the things I found, when our blacksmith didn't break down the magic armor of invaders and such..." She continued, trailing off. Pulling up her dress a little, Light dug on the inner fold of her dress around the upper waist area as if digging around in a pocket, her arm going in way further than waht would be normal as she dug around in her inventory for money. She couldn't find any, but she did find a few objects, mostly a few severed limbs and a few pieces of metal from the last intruder she had dismembered before the great freedom. Graft had gone to do something else while Light searched her person, and when was finished she pulled her arm out of her dress holding a perfectly preserved severed arm. She poked it a bit in confusion, before putting it back. When Graft came back, offering a tour with his bio parts clearly visible, Light followed Salem and their curiosity with what was in Graft's lab. Light was curious too.

"With your bio engineering there graft, you would fit right in with the Eldredge, hehe." Light said, pointing out all the tentacles and such on display by Graft. As they followed him, Light said to Salem. "Do you have money Salem? I think my creator used the vault to store stuff I won off intruders and such, but I don't know if thats mine or not anymore."

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the curiosity of both Salem and Light prompted them to follow Graft closely on the way to his laboratory. From what he knew of their natures he could hardly blame them, but it presented a problem for maintaining secrecy when it came to the matter at hand. Of course, the matter at hand itself had the technoorganism screaming on the inside. He maintained a stony, even surly exterior, but Graft's mind was afire with shock, confusion, and inference. At the moment, the director aimed for damage control, but to preserve the wellbeing of his newest employee he needed to operate immediately, and doing that without revealing her to his overeager associates was an impossibility. While he didn't want them to know, that in itself wasn't the true problem; the real issue was that the moment they said anything, the magic of Kath Erine would record their comments, and that meant anyone could find out.

Even Rodias.

As the small party neared their destination, led by Papillary with Graft and his Guards bringing up the real, the director shot Light an irritated look. “Surely you mean 'eldritch'.” It would take a lot more arms than Light had to make trading for sophisticated new gear a fair exchange. Head, the door to the laboratory recognized Papillary and slid open with a low but audible groan. Graft proceeded to one of the tables, more of a tightly-packed block of biometal parts than real furniture, and used a tendril to sweep the clutter onto the floor. “Right here. Gently.” The Guards complied, setting their cloaked bundle on the block before stepping back to attention, as silent and faceless as ever.

Graft took a position at the head of the table, at some sort of terminal, and looked between Light and Salem. “I've got another special offer. A favor for a favor.” His mouth stopped moving, but his voice reached the others as modulated reverberations. ”Don't say anything about her condition.” Another tentacle snaked up from his back, extending to grasp his coat and pull it away.

“I present the third creation of Brushen Penn.”

Penn's secret lay open for all to see: a gorgeous woman with demonic features, dressed in unusual garb and in bad shape. Papillary stared, at a complete loss for words. Graft sank his claws into he terminal, linking with the system, and a multitude of biomechanical arms with all sorts of instruments sprang from the sides of the table to curl over its top, like the legs of a dead spider. Many poor souls had met a terrible fate on operating tables like this one, but today Graft would be using it for benevolence. Straightaway he began his diagnostics, using some of the tools to poke and prod at the barely-conscious girl in order to find out about her. A panel rose from the top of the terminal, its living surface changing texture like an octopus to form letters.

Level 1 Nightgaunt
Blunt trauma and abrasions across body
Substantial internal damage
Permanent debuffs, cleansable
Item discovered

One grabber pulled away a small bone charm inscribed with magic runes. Graft swapped in a new pair of lenses to his biomask, identifying the item. “Second Chance. Any attack that would one-hit kill the target will instead leave it at 1 HP.” Ugh. Without delay, he pulled up an syringe arm and began administering nanoflesh. At the injection site there was a momentary discoloration, but the living technology quickly sank in, surging through the woman's system. It made various minor repairs before melding with her bones and organs, strengthening them.

After a few moments the transfusion was complete. The woman had opened her purple eyes, looking around blearily. “Be at ease,” Graft told her. “You are among friends. What is your name?”

Her gaze fell upon him, but she said nothing. He tried again. “I am Vitaphagas Graft. This is Salem,” he said, pointing at the doll. “And Light.” He indicated the vault guardian. One after another his subject glanced at the others, her vision as dull as the look on her face. “Can you understand me?”

She did not. Graft breathed a heavy sigh. “Tabula rasa. A blank slate. No will, no sense, no self. No more than a pretty face.” Why would Penn make something like this? he asked himself. A dozen answers floated around in his head, the least worrisome of all being 'just because she could'. To create life with so little thought or care seemed so...irresponsible. Surely even he, himself a creation, could do better.

Graft inclined his head. “Say, now that's an idea.”

A confused look reached him Papillary, which was remarkable considering her lack of a face. “Sir?”

He prepared another ministration, this one special. The arms of his operating table whirred to action, and Graft explained as he worked. “Each of us was made who we are by our creators. Yet each of us surely started as something like this in the beginning. Clay, waiting to be formed. While I have been making life like Guards for a while, they stand at a fixed point in terms of ability and sophistication. If I can unlock the secrets of development, and steer it as our creators did, the possibilities are endless.” Technoorganisms, beings made for adaptation, evolution, and utilization, could grow faster than normal creatures. This nanoflesh ministration would hopefully grant that skill. “There exists in her limitless potential. Through instruction and experience she may be able to gain all sorts of stats, skills, and levels. Perhaps one day she could even stand as our equal.” Carried away by his imagination, his voice dropped to a murmur. “Perhaps one day we ourselves can find ways to grow.”

The thought had never occurred to him, somehow: the thought of developing past the point where he stood now. But no, he couldn't get ahead of himself. His current project lay before him, without so much as a name. Graft removed his claws from the terminal, causing the table's arms to collapse back into its sides. Sliding an arm beneath the demon, he helped her into a sitting position. She offered no resistance, and sat looking at the others with wide eyes. “We must get her real clothes,” Graft remarked, his tone clinical. “And a name.” He glanced at the others. “Any ideas? Please be aware that you will not be paid for them.”

Kaldorna, The Beast Mistress

The Sable Lord’s Might

“Secure those beasts so they can be healed,” Agathina yelled at the hunters from the commentators box after Rodias had finished his tutorial and the dust in the arena had settled. At her command the pack of beast tamers who had watched the lengthy battle with casual interest finished their idle discussions, exchanged the results of various bets that had been made and got to work.

”and someone find the Svelths before they sneak away,” she added, referring to the ferret like creatures that had been released and then never taken part in the battle.

The vampires descended upon the bloody battlefield and got to work as the gates of the arena rolled up to release hordes of thrall assistants armed with nets and Animal Catcher Poles.

As the bests where re-secured, knocked out, calmed or otherwise pacified Kaldorna released the [share senses] spell that had linked her the hawk her assistant had been carrying around to let her see the fight even as she was out on the hunt.

“So, our Lord fights like a dancer without a partner” she mused wistfully to herself as the hunt rode onward.

---

Hunt for Answers

”Well that’s certainly one way to do it,” Kaldorna said when she heard how the gardener had acquired the beast’s servitude by butchering its kin before its eyes.

”However you do run the risk of enraging rather than modifying the beast depending on the species. I’d suggest that instead… Ah,” the beast Mistress said in an instructive tone before she paused, realized what she was doing, and then her shook her head apologetically ”My apologies darling. You’re not one of my tamers that I need to lecture on how to properly handle beasts. Please. Do go on,” she insisted before listening to the rest of what Zouyu had to say

The beasts probably not being domesticated which was good in Kaldorna’ opinion. Her master's collection came before all but that didn't mean she wanted to get into a conflict with the natives over some livestock even if Zouyu predicted that they where weakling that couldn't even handle these simple creatures.

”We’ll have to wait for the village scouting party gets back to confirm any of your theories about the natives. As for the name of this beast, well you did discover them for the chateaux, so I think it’s only fair you get to decide what we call them, at least until their actual names from the locals,” she told Zouyu before getting to his question about whether they would be heading back immediately or continuing the search.

”When it comes to creatures, well, I have to say I’ve never seen such an abundance of species in my unlife” Kaldorna said, unaware of the vast difference in biodiversity found in actual living breathing landscapes when compared to a virtual one that only simulated what was strictly necessary for gameplay or atmosphere, ”Reginald, he’s the master’s bug catcher, is in quite the tizzy about all the types of insects to be found in this area alone. Back home it was quite a challenge to track them down but here, my goodness you turn over a rock and there's dozens of new species under there.”

She reached her hand inside her jacket and when she withdrew it had a small spider on it, its eyes glowing red like those of the lesser vampire thralls ”This little one’s particularly interesting. You see it’s venom petrifies its prey, bit like a Catoblepas’s breath. On his own the little guy’s not a danger, couldn't even break our skin if he tried, but I think his venom might be of interest to our dear director Graft or too rogues who like to poison their blades.”

She put the spider back in her coat and then continued, ”Sadly it seems to be one of the only useful species around, excluding your own find of course. Ah, such biodiversity there is to be found here and yet all of it so… useless,” she said with a sigh. ”For the moment there is nothing else here that we need to take back. Whether we ever should take them in… well that's still being hotly debated that I can assure you.”

Kaldorna seemed like she would happily yammer on for hours but Zouyu was spared from having to listen to the details of the discussion regarding the future of the collection when the vampiresse was interrupted by a bout of roaring coming from far to the north.

”Oh yes, there is of course the matter of whatever is making those sounds.” she said after the noise had subsided ”Arthanar was hankering to go after it all morning before I insisted he got some shut eye instead of charging off into the woods during the day. I wished to await your return and some success in finding a food supply before we looked into it. Now that you've returned with your livestock I think we can afford to take a look, don’t you?” she said with just a hint of mischief before she reached out and offered a hand to the Gardener ”If you like I can use my [Share Senses] skill to let you see through the eyes of a hawk I’m using for scouting. Then we can both watch as I have it go take a look see at whatever’s making that racket.”

As Mamoru and Gromgard walked, she explained what she learned from her chat with the cultist. “These people worship some deity named Ditronus. It is not a name I’m familiar with, either confirming the Master’s words that we are indeed not in Yggdrasil, or at the very least this deity is so minor that his name is not well known. Additionally cultists seem to kidnap travelers to preform some sort of sacrificial ritual in the forest. As we can see they are no true threat to us, however as we will be utilizing the natural resources around us, it would be in our best interest to ensure this cult nuisance does not impede our progress. I would recommend seeking out any remaining cultist and putting them down permanently to ensure everyone’s safety.”

As they would walk Mamoru would periodically scan the area for natural resources. She was picking up various new herbs and ivies which may be processed into medicine or poisons, as well as signs of local animals. Nothing too exotic, but perhaps it would provide a bit of sport for the chateau’s hunters. There were also signs of creatures who Mamoru don’t recognize from her experience alongside her creator, so surely this information of new and exotic beasts would pique the chateau’s interest.

“The cult is quite wide spread despite their likely minor worship. The one I captured comes from a town called Gronbell, sixty miles southwest of here. While a short journey for us, it’s quite a journey for peasants such as these. Either he lives nearby or these rituals are not as common place as I suspect, but even so since we know nothing, anything is possible.” Once Mamoru explained what she knew the goblins wanted to paint a picture with Mamoru and Gromgard posing. Though the dark general related, Mamoru politely declined.

“I am honored, truly, but despite my station I am still but just a maid of the Chateau. Someone like me should not have portraits painted of her compared to the likes of Gromgard, who actually leads armies does battle outside of the comforts of home. Not to mention that while I do not mind if you should paint, we should still remain watchful. I shall keep an eye out for any dangers so that you may paint in peace.”

@Lucius Cypher

As Gromgard said yes, the artists smiled at each other before turning to Mamoru, hearing her decline. As Shill looked like he was going to begin pleading, Penn examined the look on her face and stopped his brother. Instead of pleading, he walked up to her and frowned softly. "Pretty lady no like a picture?" he asked curiously. Gromgard cleared his throat, telling Penn not to press the issue further. He then spoke in the goblin language, asking for some of the scouts to join the painting.

Getting the scene perfect wasn't hard. They used a nearby downed tree as a table and set it up for a picnic scene with Gromgard at the head and three of the goblins around him nearby. Though they were posing, the scouts still kept their attention outward for signs of danger. At one point, much to the joy of the artists, a black bird, much like a crow or a raven, landed at the opposite end of the log. They quickly added it to the portrait before continuing on everything else.

-----

It had been a little over an hour by the time they were finished and were showing off the picture. One of the scouts frowned, not understanding it. Though he did stop the scout beside him from throwing a berry at the painting, having seen the fury of the artists.

After everyone had seen it, Gromgard smiled and grabbed the painting to slide into his shadow pocket to keep it safe for the trip home. He patted the artists on their heads before beginning to stretch. Sitting in the pose for so long had made him a bit stiff. He then looked at the food and decided it would be a good spot to have a picnic to allow everyone to eat.

The pair of scouts remaining in the trees jumped down to enjoy the food with the others. The rest of the scouts claimed their same spots from their poses and began their meal. Gromgard, however, offered a spot at the other end of the log to Mamoru to sit beside him, across from the artists.

-----

Once everyone had eaten, Gromgard looked back towards the castle. "Shall we head back to the chateau?" he asked, glancing at Mamoru. He felt it had been long enough and didn't want to stay out all day.

After the brief chat with Mars, Ashara was unsure what they were meant to do next. Lord Rodias had sent them to scout the village and that was all fine and well, but exactly did their lord want them to look for? If he was just interested in seeing what the village was like and had to offer, then their task was already more or less complete - at least as far Ashara could tell. But even if she wasn't all too bright, the girl felt that there was more to her master's orders than just 'go to village, look around, then coem home'.

Closing her eyes for a moment, letting the morning breeze rustle her hair and robe, Ashara quietly muttered something to herself, discreetly and in audible less you stood right next to her. After a few moments though, she opened her eyes again and looked over to her companion. A pleasant smile on her face as per usual.

"It seems there is no immediate danger around the village, milady." She began softly. "Whatever these so-called freaks that Mr. Mars mentioned, they are either not nearby, or not hostile. My senses could not detect any danger in the immediate area at all." She spoke, though with a lowered tone as to avoid having unwanted or curious ears listen in on their convesation.

"I will take a small look about, however." She continued, now speaking in a more casual and common tone. "Let us meet up again at this larger building-" She pointed at the two-storey general store. "-once we have both had our fill of looking around this rustic hamlet. Oh, and should you ever need me, simply call out and I will come running to your side." Ashara finished.

The noise from the west, originating from the mountains above, was indeed causing some of the townsfolk to act or look confused, but luckily it did not seem like any of them were doing much in hte way of trying to locate the source... Well, apart from this Mars-character, who was now busy training some of what she could only imagine to be the local men. The man seemed a great deal sharper than the rest of the denizens here, yet he had been unable to pick up on the vast difference in terms of strength between himself and both Lady Kath and herself. This either meant that he wasn't as competent as he claimed to be, or the people of this world had no way of detecting power... Could it be that he was hiding his reaction? It didn't seem like it. She spent a short time watching the Master Adventurer and his trainees. The men were terrible, just awful. With their technique ad skills, they wouldn't even be able to handle a goblin one-on-one. It was all rather sad...

Moving away from the mustering field where Mars and his men were, she walked along the village, stopping to at times ask the locals some mundane questions. She was told where the smithy was, as well as told about a tavern that served as the local watering-hole for this little village. Neither places eemed particularly important or worth investigating though. Given the tools and apparel of the people here, whatever works the local blackmsith could produce were obviously far inferior to the goods manufactured at the Chateau. And a pub? What possible knowledge of valuable information could one gain from a den of drunks?

Still, the fox wanted to do something useful. She wracked her mind and brain, until fianlly a single thought emerged. Why hadn't she thought of this sooner? It was obvious that they were in a new place, a new world - but what was it called? What was the region or lands they now resided in named? Who ruled this place? They didn't even know the name of the this little backwater village yet! With renewed purpose and vigpr, Ashara sallied forth, poised and carrying herself with graceful movement and noble posture. Approaching a man on one of the paths in the village, she introduced herself politely and then asked about the village's name, informing her that she and her friend were new arrivals unfamiliar with the area.

After speaking to, and thanking him for his time, she moved on to another part of the town, where she spoke with a different fellow. Asking who was in charge of the village and if there were any lords or kings who sired over these lands. Again, once they were done speaking, she thanked him in a friendly way and went on her way. This time coming into contact with another woman, she inquired about what areas were located around the village, what they were called and so on. Once done, she bowed slightly and set off.

Feeling she had gathered enough information and asked around, the fox decideed to head back to the designated meeting-spot. However, before returning there quite yet, she went back to the location where Mars was, approaching the man and his men curiously.

"Pardon me, Mr. Mars." She began once close enough to converse. "You said you could give us some advice on adventuring." She continued. "As you can tell, my companion and I are strangers to these parts and do not quite know where to begin. Would you mind sharing some of your knowledge with me?" She asked, hands held clapsed together and held infront of her, just below her stomach - as was customary for proper japanese ladies to do.

In the span of the evening hours, Chuunitrixx had locations established, and villages set up; each could hold a population of fifty, which would be divided from her Mimics. By time the sun was tempted to rise, Chuunitrixx was yawning and sluggish, as she rummaged the kitchen for something to eat. All she knew to make was [Basic Toast], so she set to making it with every single loaf of bread she could find.

"Sniping evil by moonlight! Shooting villains in daylight! Always ready for the real fight! She is the one named Sniper Trixx!" Chuunitrixx sang, largely in the company of herself, and loudly, because of it, "She would never turn her back on her friend! She always there to defend! On her, he can always depend! She is the one named Sniper Trixx!"

Chuunitrixx tossed her arms out in a large flourish, which, in any other situation, would have hit no-one and nothing, as melee wasn't her forte. However, being a -- return -- victim of sleep and the -- restored -- waking cycle of life, now, the back of her hand thwack Rodias on the cheek for the minimum dealable damage of 1 Non-lethal Health Point -- which just regenerated in a literal second. Still...

Almost with a comedic creak of her mixed Mimic, Doppelganger, and Human parts, the Homunculus turned her head inhumanly to peer back at Rodias, and watched her comically placed "Critical Hit 1!!!" bound off his cheek and away.

"How long have... you been there," Chuunitrixx asked, as she loaded Ariamis out of pure tsundere instinct.

Rodias paused in full as the back of someone’s hand slapped against his cheek, face instinctively following the motion to make it look as if he’d actually been punched in the face. Though, he’d realize right away that he hadn’t taken any damage whatsoever. Well, as far as current damage. He’d taken SOME small smarm of pain, but that quickly subsided, eyes turning with his head to see the sight of Chuunitrixx loading her gun, a drop of sweat rolling down his face. In truth, he’d been lost in his own thoughts...but he’d still very much heard her say: “She is the one named Sniper Trixx” as the hit landed.

Stooping to pick up the “Critical Hit!”, Rodias would clear his throat.

”What do I even say? She’s going to freak out if I say that I heard any of that...but she probably wouldn’t believe me if I said none, since I was so close. Uh...think...think…” Rodias would think, before saying: ”Longer than you might have preferred.”

...Then the gears started turning.

And turning.

And turning.

And then he realized that he’d done the opposite of what he intended.

"I see. I see. Ara Ara... That's a problem..." Chuunitrixx's says, as a hand-loaded Ariamis with silver bullets baring an engraving of the Russian Orthodox Cross and the Kanji for the word, "Soma," upon it. "Why do you look so nervous, my Lord?"

Rodias took a step back. ”That...would be because I fear I’ve embarrassed you. My apologies. ...Gotta go!” he would say, before sprinting off down the hallway, trying to avoid getting a faceful of buckshot. Chuunitrixx couldn’t one shot him, but...guns were still, in his brain, a tiny bit scary.

"Why are you running my, Lord? I'm just trying to defend you!" Chuunitrixx growled, as she fired the Engraved Revolver Ariamis at him; his Evasion just high enough to Dodge anything short of a Sneak Attack or a Critical Hit. Still, the HOLIER THAN THOU BULLETS OF SMITE smashed into the walls and floors, and created fonts of angelic singing -- pure pockets of concentrated Heavens.

It would probably suck to get hit by that spell.

Rodias was careful to dodge every bullet that came, while also directing Chuunitrixx’s fire away from the various skeleton butlers just trying to make their way around the halls of the Chateau. After he started to realize that running was only going to get someone caught in the crossfire...or call the wrath of Mamoru on the both of them for making work for her, Rodias would dodge, then duck under Chuunitrixx’s arm to gently grab her wrist, coming face to face with her as he let out a nervous chuckle. ”Let’s...cut this game of cat and mouse short, shall we?” he asked, really, really hoping Chuunitrixx would give up the run-and-gun.

"Fwaaah... Haaa... Haaa... Fi... Fiii... Fine... Fine... Tru... Haaaa... Haaa... Truce... Oh, God....!" Chuunitrixx panted and huffed, sweating her ass off. "Can't breathe! Dying! Haaa....!"

[THUMP!!!]

Chuunitrixx was flat on her ass, a mess of suffering the realistic rules of cardio and exertion. Lying on her side, she just pitifully gulped air, and whimpered. Running was never this hard before! Ariamis was lying just out of reach, and just within Rodias's range of theft.

Rodias reached his hand out, and as if the world itself willed it, the gun flew into his hand. Theft was an especially useful skill, especially now. He’d come to learn that he didn’t need to touch objects to “steal” them, due to his Shadow class extending his range to anywhere his shadow touched. And in the halls of the Chateau, the Lord’s shadow stretched far indeed.

Offering the gun to her with a smile, Rodias said: ”Let’s forget all this and start over. What were you on your way to do, Chuunitrixx?”

"Breakfast!" Chuunitrixx nearly vomited her paltry breakfast of toast up. "I was... I was going... going to get... get breakfast... Running sucks ass! This is why I'm a sniper! I don't move!"

Rodias had to struggle to maintain a straight face from how...silly this all was. ”I see. Care to accompany me to Flan’s Kitchen then? I was feeling a bit peckish myself,” he would say, trying to restore a smidgeon of Chuunitrixx’s dignity by ignoring her dorky singing. And complete lack of stamina.

“Food...” Chuunitrixx nodded.

Rodias offered a hand for Chuunitrixx to pull herself up with.

Chuunitrixx took it; using her overleveled [Sleight of Hand] skill steal the Engraved Revolver Ariamis back, and held it against Rodias’s heart. “Bang, Vampire Boy,” she smirked. “Take me to the food!”

”You’d need these for a sneak attack like that,” Rodias said, opening his hand and revealing every bullet Chuunitrixx had on her person was in the palm of his right hand. ”But, let’s go.” Rodias would say, taking the elevator with Chuunitrixx to spare her from the agony of cardiovascular exercise. Again.

“I know.” Chuunitrixx smiled, as several of the paints on the walls and the lightning fixtures settled back into being inanimate objects with teasing, musical hums. Chuunitrixx hummed back in the same tone, and Rodias could get a sense of being teased from what sounded like musical laughter.

It would serve to remind him that Chuunitrixx had spent almost an entire day singing.

Rodias sighed, simply leading Chuunitrixx to the elevator and taking her directly to Flan’s kitchen. The “elevators” were more like teleporters, given that they could move horizontally as well. It seemed that this formerly being a video game with some conventions such as that remained. Which was oddly convenient if one needed to get around the Chateau quickly. As the elevator moved, Rodias asked: ”How are your scouts doing?”

“Uuuh.... well,” Chuunitrixx offered with a massive LADDELING of uncertainty. She’s never undertook such a degree. “How... um.. Should they be doing... you know, out of curiosity. I’m asking for a friend.”

Rodias would pause, place his hand upon his own face, and slowly drag downward. ”Didn’t you say that you had plans of expansion? I’m just trying to see if your plans are coming together at the start of it all. Have there been any problems?”

“Kiiinnnddaa...” Chuunitrixx poked her pointers together. “I had some die to a stupid elephant. I wanna send more there, especially, but... also, to... the other places...” she looked up, “How much can I send?”

Rodias was just kind of staring blankly at Chuunitrixx, before his cape formed into a black question mark that loomed over his back, head tilting as he quizically asked: ”Well, how many do you have?”

“I made teams of 20, and I lost, uh, two from one, though,” Chuunitrixx says. “There will be elephancide.”

Rodias paused, looking down just a bit. He looked...almost sorrowful at the idea of two dying. ”I see...if that is the only region we’ve incurred losses in then, I believe it’d be best to pull out from it.”

“Retreat!? Surely, you don’t suggest we just give up!?” Chuunitrixx nearly lost it at the notion, as she fluxed in-between personalities. “Ridiculous! Preposterous! Ludicrous!”

Rodias would shake his head, stating: ”No. I’m not saying that we give up. I’m simply saying that putting your mimics to use in other locations would be a better investment. But, that’s merely a suggestion. They’ll only listen to you. But...do make sure to send back resources from the scouts. Traptrixx always was a fan of that strategy to bolster the forges, just as the door to the elevator dinged open.

“What I just spend more? Instead of a small place, a bigger place? More protected? And, more people to bring things back!” Chuunitrixx says. “So, maybe, I can borrow some horses...? I totally don’t wan’a pony...”

Rodias paused in exiting the elevator, turning back to say: ”If you think you can make that work to make up for the casualties, then I’ll allow it. Well, at Kaldorna’s leave, anyway. They’re her horses, after all. But, I’ll approve of increasing protection for the scouts. Also...why do you want a horse? You don’t plan on leaving the Chateau, do you?”

“I could never! I am to defend the whole. I could not leave,” Chuunitrix says. “I could still ride it...” Chuunitrix pouted, before stepping off the elevator. “Of course, I could spare the Mimics, no problem. I just cannot spare the attention, so I need them to be small enough that looking in would distract me form the whole, but large enough I can leave them in a safe autonomy.”

”I see,” Rodias responded, fully leaving the elevator. ”In that case, I’ll talk to Kaldorna about the horses once she returns. For now, allocate resources to fortify your scouts’ encampments. And, do try to not kill all the elephants. Kaldorna may want a few for the Pens.

“I promise nothing.” Chuunitrix says. “I wonder, what’s a good number for a population cap? 50? 100? 2000? Hm...” Rodias would be reminded, again, that Traptrixx loved RTS games.

Rodias crossed his arms. ”If you manage to do well, I’ll consider getting you that pony. Also, definitely not 2000. That’s not even scouting anymore…”

“Well, what should I do then?” Chuunitrixx asks. “Fiifffttyyy...?” she offered, trying to be slick about it.

”Fifty for each, or fifty total?” Rodias asked, wanting specifics.

“Each...?” Chuunitrixx was testing the waters.

That’s a bit much for the time being,” Rodias stated. It seemed he intended for Chuunitrixx to keep them below fifty in each scouting squad, at the very least.

Chuunitrix took that as a bad thing. “So, not fifty per settlement...?”

Rodias sighed softly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ”Chuunitrixx, you need to keep the scouting parties small for now. A large settlement cropping up will draw significantly more attention, and put them in danger. Fifty PER settlement is a good cap to have, but any more and you start jeopardizing their cover.”

Chuunitrixx gasped, and nodded. “Nnhn! Nnhn!” she understood. “I’ll arrange them in a small, village-like fashion. If my population cap is fifty, I can divide that among my unit types,” she hummed, “I know what to do!”

Rodias’ expression lightened, glad that Chuunitrixx finally understood. And she even repeated it back, to reiterate. ”Go ahead and visit Flan. I need to take care of something at the archives.”

Chunnitrixx nodded; confused as to why she needed to visit Flan, but more than willing to visit food. She’d a massive need to feed -- Flan was a second-hand thought, if anything.

And, so, with gusto, she burst into Flan's Kitchen, and started consuming everything in sight that she could put her hands on.

---

Collab with @The Irish Tree

@Lugubrious @Archmage MC

Salem looked on in enraptured curiosity as Graft handled and ultimately revealed Penn's third creation. Graft's request seemed unusual to Salem, whose eyes ran over the bruised and battered form before them, finding nothing unusual about it. Creators built, used, abused, and abandoned their creations; this was an axiom of existence, Graft's denial of which surprised Salem. But the doll remained quiet, silently agreeing to Graft's oath of secrecy. But if Salem were in Graft's shoes, Salem would immediately act to dispose of the Nightgaunt. After all, due to the level of abuse and being locked in a private room, it was clear to Salem that this one had been Penn's favorite, and Salem couldn't abide anyone or anything challenging their position as the favorite. In Salem's eyes, this creature had the potential to usurp Graft, especially if Rodias was overcome with a desire to preserve and uplift things that were particularly close to the other Sable Lords. Salem said nothing, seeing the level of care Graft poured into his newfound 'sibling', but Salem felt that this foolish sentimentality was unbecoming of the crafty and business-minded director.

Salem's eyes widened as Graft launched into a soliloquy on the infinite possibilities of progress, realizing that Graft was actually excited about the idea of uplifting this creature to equal himself and the other Chapter Keepers. At first, Salem approved of the idea of Graft tearing into his sibling, finding out her secrets, and improving his own knowledge-base, but balked when he stated his desire to apply that knowledge to help her grow. Even Graft's final statement of using that knowledge to help himself and the others to develop wasn't enough to offset the fact that Graft was willing to enable his potential usurper. Of course, Light's proximity was definitely making the more insecure and paranoid voices in Salem's head particularly loud.

But when Graft asked for a name and clothes, Salem spoke up, "That's not exactly fair. You've already asked us both for the favor of keeping mum, and now you're asking for free clothes and a name? As a businessman and an engineer, don't you think you should offer something for compensation? After all, 'something for nothing' is not exactly a very good economic, nor scientific principle. You wouldn't want Light or I to 'accidentally' spill the beans would you?" Salem giggled at the obvious attempt at blackmail. "I'm joking of course, but I think that you could at least offer Light one of the things she requested earlier at no cost, in return for the favor of silence, and for a name. Whereas I have no short supply of dresses, if you think Gothic Lolita is her style. In fact, I can grant you and her access to my entire wardrobe if you can't decide whether you want to dress her up as a boy or a girl, or something in between." Salem smirked at the idea of Graft using the Nightgaunt as a plaything and humiliating her with embarrassing outfits. Perhaps doing so would move him away from any thoughts of developing her. "As for compensation for me... I can't think of anything right now, so we'll just compound favor on top of favor. Perhaps I'll cash it in at a later date..." Salem floated into a reclining position and yawned nonchalantly, while inside, the doll was enjoying the possibility of indenturing Graft, not because Salem wanted or needed anything in particular from the director, but merely because Salem enjoyed exerting power.

Light watched as Graft revealed an odd looking lady from the folds of himself, almost cuddling her a bit before using his lab to figure out everything about her and everything. Light let out a little "Awww" as Graft worked. It was weird for a guy to give birth, but, well, seahorses were a thing so why not. Why graft wanted to keep his new 'daughter's' birth a secret Light didn't know, there wasn't anyone to fear anymore. Well, there was the Void, but that was more his problem than Lights. Although the more she thought about it, this being his 'kid' probably wasn't true as he was referencing his 'creator'. Or was it? Fredrik did weird things for Light, so...

Either way as she thought about this, Salem gave an objection to Graft asking for a free name for his new 'daughter'. After they were done, Light chimed in. "Hey yeah! Like a suppressor thing so Rodias will let me hug people again." She said, patting Salem for standing up for her. "Besides, I'd just give her an eldritch name. Unless you want her to be called Lilith or something." She continued, giving the girl a side glance. "But your the Daddy Graft! You should be giving her the name! Its your job as a daddy after all! Speaking of that... Who was the mom?" She concluded, deciding to tease Graft a bit. From what Light remembered, Graft was pretty matter of fact and the like. So Light figured maybe a bit of levity would be nice.

Instead of anything remotely helpful, or tactful for that matter, Salem started telling Graft how to do his job. That soured the director's good mood “You must not know a great deal about business,” he told Salem. “Maximizing benefit to myself while minimizing cost is its very quintessence.” When Salem suggested blackmail, he crossed a line that one should not cross with Vitaphagas Graft without a willingness to deal with the consequences. Of course, the doll assured him of a lack of sincerity, although Graft doubted the kid ever got serious about anything in the first place. Salem would do whatever it felt like, without regard for things like agreements and allegiance, based on capricious feelings and wants. No doubt the doll entertained delusions of being a puppet master, toying with those around him.

Graft stepped away from the Nightgaunt and raised a hardened nanoflesh claw for emphasis as he began to speak. He found himself cut off, however, by Light. He treated her to an irritated look as she requested more stuff before giving the first real suggestion, which seemed to Graft to be worth what he was paying for it. The deep one then said something else so wholly out of left field that he didn't for a time understand what she meant in the slightest. A sharp mind enjoyed residence in that skull of his, however, and it raced to connect the thoughts. When he realized what Light was saying a few seconds later he gave a heavy, crackling sigh, then a helpless laugh. “Forget your aura,” he chuckled, “Your thought process alone could drive men to insanity. Perhaps I can interest you in a reasonably-priced seminar on biology sometime.”

His humor dried up as he turned his attention to Salem. He knew it wad partially Light's pressure that egged him to stick it to the impertinent mannequin, but he figured the little snot could use a dressing-down anyway. Lenses swapped in over his eyes that gave off a flickering spark, and he spoke in an icy voice. “As for you, if you do not value my cooperation, we can always cut off the production agreement feeding that trash heap you use as a playpen. I wouldn't mind repossessing everything of the Factory's that's in there, either.” As he spoke Graft walked closer, moving without suddenness or malice, until he was close enough to casually pluck the hat off Salem's head. He turned it over in his hands as he continued. “The contract benefits me only with its dissolution, you see. I had thought I was doing you a big favor by keeping it, but if that's not the case, why bother?”

Abruptly Graft put the hat on, switching it for his own beret, then summoned a nanoflesh grenade in his other hand. Peering at its somewhat-reflective surface, he admired himself for a moment before shaking his head. “Wrong color,” he murmured, as an aside. When he took it off he slipped the grenade inside, and a second later it burst in a spray of fibrous, technoorganic meat and rank, mechanical odor. It infested the hat completely, changing its texture to hard and rubbery and its color to a greenish-gray. Graft held it up to the light for a quick examination, found it to his satisfaction, and placed it back on Salem's head. A less-than-gentle pat smushed it down. “In the business world, there are spiders, and there are flies. I pride myself on treating my allies well. But only my allies. Are we clear?”

He deactivated his lenses and stepped away. “Now then. Shortly I'm going to begin R&D. It will include framework for the dolls and some traps that might suit the vault. If you want to keep watching, the first half hour's free, but I will charge by the quarter-hour after that. I imagine you two have duties to attend to anyway. Before that, however...”

With a flourish Graft turned to Papillary. “Please take Miss Tabula to the Production Center. Manufacture a handful of Guards as weak as we can make them, and incite Tabula to fight them. Before anything else, we must determine if she is capable of gaining XP.” Turning to the Nightgaunt, he said, “Hear that? Your name is Tabula. Say it.”

A Forced Order. One of a Commander's skills, it could extract obedience from weaker underlings, even for things they could normally not do themselves. The woman's meager muscles tensed beneath her gray skin. “Name is Tabula,” she repeated, her voice accented. Were a Sable Lord here, he or she might have identified it as Welsh.

Graft inclined his head. Curious. “Speak when I speak to you. Listen to others and learn how to talk yourself. My name is Vitaphagas Graft. As of today, I am your boss.”

“Boss,” the Nightgaunt repeated. “Graft am boss.”

“'Is' boss,” the director corrected. “You might say 'Graft is the boss.' But you can think of me as...an older brother, perhaps. Our creator...our 'mother', one could say, is the same. Lady Brushen Penn, the Starlight.” He leaned on his cane, his attention elsewhere. “Cooperate with Papillary to gain experience. Yes?”

The woman nodded. “Yes.”

She and Papillary left soon after, and Graft bent to his work. All of his ideas from earlier came flooding back, and he began conceptualizing, researching, and developing as fast as his faculties could take him.

The hours of the night seemed to pass by in a blur. Graft never took a moment's rest, constantly putting things together, testing them, tinkering with designs, and requesting more materials delivered. One idea, that of replacing his static deployables with ones attached to living biotech drones, he deemed too revolutionary to sink his teeth into just yet, but just about everything else had at least seen some progress. A few projects stood out above the others. He'd managed to put together working prototypes for Adrenaline and Melatonin Shells, recycling various body parts into mollusk-like creatures that could be thrown down and trusted to fire chemical-rich spikes into targets to amp them up or put them under. An electromagnetic shielding array was successfully stopping light blows and thrown objects, but would need a lot of improvement to see battlefield use. The basis for a long-range terrain imager lay assembled on his table. And yet he'd barely scratched the surface. So much to do, so little time. Fatigue and hunger were starting to nibble him, too.

Of course, he had yet to get started on Rodias' order. By now, however, a privileged few would surely be able to give him the information he needed to begin. Graft pictured in his mind his enigmatic, reserved acquaintance and coworker, and after a moment created an Open Line to Kath Erine.

“Hello. Graft here,” he spoke quietly, in case Kath was somewhere where people might hear. “Doing something for Rodias. I have a question for you.” If she needed, she could get somewhere more private before replying.

Mamoru had satisfied herself by keeping watch, scanning the area for resources, though she did take a short break to join Gromgard for a snack. Contrary to appearances, he seemed quite... Laxs. Certainly he rules his goblins with an iron fist, but appears to be more of a carrot than a stick type of commander. This genuinely surprises Mamoru as she had always figured that practically all of the other chapter keepers rule their minions through fear or power. Even Mamoru handled her skeletal servants with a certain amount of detached disdain. Then again, she was little more than the figurehead of the skeletal servants. She didn't even make them. It just reminded Mamoru that she truly had very little purpose on her own. She needed, no, wanted something to drive her onward. A mission in life.

Once their break was over the group continued exploring a bit more before eventually they stumbled upon the ritual site. Some sort of crude ritual took place here obviously. The grounds were profaned, which while maybe an issue for the likes of the goblin artists, just about everyone else of suitable level would not be bothered by such low level magics. It did, however, give Mamoru an idea. "Yes, let us head back. I've seen enough so far, so I'll make my report to Rodias Master once we return. This area is quite rich in low level minerals, so I'm sure that it would service the chateau greatly. If I may request, could you perhaps leave a few goblins at this ritual site to keep the natives from locating it? I believe this location may be of some use for the Chateau."

---

Meanwhile throughout the nondiscrimination time, Mamoru has stayed with Rodias, watching over him and the shenanigans he gets into from afar. She keeps a wide birth from him when he enters the domain of others, but she otherwise tends to him subtly, often directing skeletal servants to serve him whenever he comes across some minor annoyance or displeasure. But sure enough, once the appeal of being at his unknown beck-and-call started to waver, Mamoru got lazy. She simply assigned a few skeleton butlers to trail Rodias and keep in contact with her while Mamoru wandered around the Chateau. Most everyone was off doing something important, even the real her, while she was basically acting as a glorified handmaiden. Which she technically was, and it turns out that's incredibly boring!

And so Mamoru went to go visit Flan. Wasn't as if she had any actual tasks that couldn't be handled by the skeletal butlers, and this way Mamoru could gorge herself on delicious treats. Being a clone, Mamoru didn't worry about her weight since she'll no doubt be dismissed once Mamoru comes back, and if she was really concerned she could just go kill herself and lose all the weight that way. As long as the original doesn't get too chubby, her clones could happily eat without worrying about their figures and their incredibly short lifespans. So upon entering the kitchen Mamoru announced her presence loud and clearly.

"Flan du Rosemary vuu Succulence Ral Thyme Sauerkraut, it is I, Mamoru Dracobreaker! I've come to acquire delicious treats on behalf of the Chateau, post haste!" It was then that Mamoru also realized that Chuunitrix was here. Her expression stiffen. She had no idea why such a uncouth person was here, and worse still eating everything she could reach. If Mamoru did not act quickly, there would be nothing to eat at all! "What heresy! Flan, do you need my aid to save your kitchen from this insatiable beast?"

Gromgard shrugged as Mamoru declined to return home. He followed her, his scouts returning to the trees, as he kept his eyes on the maid and the path ahead. The artists would still rush ahead and do a quick sketch, which allowed the rest of the group to pass them, before rushing to catch back up to them.

Upon finding the ritual area, he growled in anger. "I cannot leave any goblins here. They would instantly be pulled back to the chateau if I get too far from them. However, the artists could easily get great drawings of the area." With that said, Penn began climbing a tree to draw the area from above as Shill began drawing it from the side. They went into great detail with their drawings, though they chose not to color them just yet.

"I can think of no way to keep innocents away. Not unless you have some sort of barrier spell. Mine is much too small to be of any use in that regard." He frowned as the artists returned to his side, thinking about something he had remembered from before the new world. Years ago, he had overheard some of the Sable Lords talking about some yellow tape. He had no clue what they had been speaking of but figured if it was important, Mamoru might know something. "What do you know of yellow tape?"

Ashara stood quiet with her customary polite small, watching as the newly arrived strawberry blonde engaged in a familial and amusing conversation with the man called Mars. The girl seeemed lively and full of energy, thoguh the raven-haired beauty did blink somewhat when Mars smacked the poor lass atop her head when she made a comment about his taste in apprentices. Still, while such behavior was boorish and inexcusable - hurting a maiden was a crime against all realms of existence, after all - Ashara decided not to intervene, seeing as the two acted as if they were family.

When the question about the bxoes of ore that needed to be moved was brought up however, Ashara stood silent for a short while. Moving crates? What menial labor... She thought to herself, obviously not the slightest bit interested in this task. Still, this Mars-person had just given her advice on how to start out as an adventurer, and it would be incredibly rude of her to just ignore his suggestion - not to mention, if she helped this girl with the chore, perhaps she could glean some more insight into this village, or perhaps even the world at large. Thus, Ashara smiled and turned to the girl called Corona.

"It would be my pleasure to help such a lovely maiden, please, show me the way and tell me what must be done." She said in a friendly, calm manner as per usual.

Corona would beam, her toothy grin letting Ashara know that despite this place being backwater, at least people seemed to understand the importance of proper dental hygiene.

"Mm! Follow me, then!" Corona would say, leading Ashara off to the entrance of the mines.

There, they would see workers carrying out massive carts of ore, the likes of which altogether probably amounted to well over a ton. It was a staggering amount of ore of a copper-like hue with specks of black present in it, while another cart was burdened with white crystalline objects which Ashara could tell from a glance hummed with the magic of the land. Pointing to the multitude of carts already laid out with wooden signs attached on the sides in a language Ashara couldn't read, Corona would say: "These are the ones bound for my dad's shop. I'll show you where it is," the girl said, running over to grab a cart that towered over her body, eyes only barely peeking over the mounds of ore.

Ashara with her strength would find moving these carts an easy feat. Hell, if she wanted to go all out, she could push them all with her tails but...that'd obviously blow some cover. Big time.

The fox thus only looked at the carts with the ore in them. She'd never much been into the ehole manual-labor thing, nor did she know much about mineralogy or mining in gneral, still though... This ore wasn't something she could remember having seen back in YGGDRASIL. Was it a unique type of resource, native to this land only? Perhaps it would be good idea to procure some and bring it back to the Chateau and have someone like Director Graft take a look at it? Or perhaps Lady Kath? With the librarian's extensive knowledge and vast amount of tomes, surely she could make clear if this was a new, unknown substance or not.

Standing around thinking about this was not getting her anywhere though. So, after watching the young girl with the strawberry hair get behind, and then start pushing one of the labelled carts, Ashara simply did the same. She didn't need to bend her back or make forceful pushes with her legs, instead, rolling the cart and its contents like as if it was a shopping cart inside a mall, standing straight and just moving it forward while holding both hans on it.

She followed the girl, letting her lead the way to their destination.

Corona was impressed watching Ashara move the cart, saying: "Wow, you're really strong! No offense, but you didn't look like the muscle-y type. And here I thought I was gonna feel guilty asking you to push these," with a toothy grin. She seemed a jovial sort of person, pushing the cart along at a fair pace. It was clear she had more difficulty than Ashara, but managed in her own way. "So, where are you from?"

At the question of where she was from, a thousand thoughts raced through Ashara's head - all the same time, all vying for prominence and priority, all screaming for her to make use of them. Of course, outwardly, she looked as calm and serene as she always did, even while pushing a cart-full-o'-ore along a bumpy, uneven dirt path. Still, the matter at hand was an issue. Lord Rodias has explicitly told them to avoid answering any questions about where they were from, but she couldn't well enough just ignore the girl's inquiry - that would possibly cause either suspiscion or perhaps even more questions. If Lady Kath had been present, she could likely have come up with a clever way to side-stepp or avoid answering the question directly, but sadly, Ashara was nowhere near as smart as the bookworm dragonoid.

Still, she had to answer with something! Although it was merely moments, the time it took her to come up with what to say felt like an eternity. Eventually, Ashara settled for what was the bare minimum and least informative reply she could possibly give.

"From far, far away..." She said, turning her head to look out over the village and the people as they walked on. She needed to change the subject, or distract this Corona-girl, from further interrogation though, otherwise things could go south real soon, real fast. As such, the fox picked up one of the lumps of ore from her own cart and held it infront of her face for a bit, before putting it back down. "I have never seen this kind of ore before... What is it called, and what do you do with it?" She asked in an attempt to switch the topic.

The girl's eyes absolutely lit up at the prospect of talking about her family's work, especially with the very ore they were carrying.

"This? Its called Amberlyte. Its a kind of ore made out of condensed Terra Ether. The mountains here have especially pure Terra Ether, so the ore comes out super clean. Those little black specks are pockets of normal iron...its kinda like the Terra Ether inhabits the metal and makes it stronger. Its not great for making weapons, but its great for hammers, tools, and armor. Durable as all get out."

Ashara stifled a small laugh, finding the girl's enthusiasm to be quite charming and cute. Still, amberlyte huh? Yes, that was indeed not a metal Ashara was familiar with. Perhaps the Chateau could amke use of it somehow? And if what the girl said was true, and the mountains here were rich with this type of ore, it wouldn't be hard for them to start acquiring it themselves...

"I see." Ashara said, momentarily lost in her own thoughts, but then returned to the present. "But, if this ore is so readily available here, how come this village has not become a much larger and more prominent town? With an ample supply of this ore, I would have thought your township could grow quite wealthy?" She asked, tilting her head to the side, while following Corona towards the blacksmith's home.

The girl sighed, looking at the ore. "...You'd think that, yeah...local lord that runs us though, he squeezes the ore for everything its worth. About 80% of the profits line his coffers, and the fat bastard can't even bother to protect this place properly. Mars is just about the only real protection we have," she lamented, sounding very worried.

"...Scared now that those weirdos are out there. You stay safe on the road if you have to leave, you hear?"

"Mr. Mars mentioned something about that as well, that there were strange freaks moving about on the outskirts of your village." Ashara said, less interested in the greed of the local duke and more so in matters that could have direct impact on the settlement within the near future. "Do you know anything about them at all? What they look like? Where they are from? What they want?" She asked.

Scratching the back of her head, Corona thought on it for a moment before saying: "Well...Mars is the only one who saw them, aside from the woman they attacked. But he said they have these...weird masks. They look metallic, and they have four pink eyes on them. And he said the one he saw had some blue robes on with a black hood."

From Corona's description, Ashara would later be able to find out that such cultists were captured by Mamoru and Gromgard on the night they left. But for now, she was left to her own imagination to picture these "freaks".

As such, Corona's description rang no bells in Ashara's mind for now. The description didn't match up with anything or anyone she knew, nor anything or anyone she had ever seeen. True enough, there were plenty of people who wore masks and blue robes back in YGGDRASIL, but the compilation of their garb didn't remind the fox of anyone she'd ever seen. Furthemore, if they were attacking the local women of this little hamlet, but hadn't wiped the place out as of yet, they couldn't possibly be that much of a threat. Could they?

"Strange people in strange masks, going after women... How loathesome." Ashara said, her brows lowered and her voice, ableit still calm, was full of contempt. She looked over her cart at Corona. "But if that is the case, a cute girl like you should be extra careful, Miss. Make sure you stay safe and in the company of others." Ashara warned, offering somber smile.

She doubted this little village waif could do much in terms of defending herself, much less against a group of mysterious masked people who had her scared with their mere presence. Hopefully, these goons would stay well enough away for now, until such a point that Lord Rodias decided what to actually do with this sad little settlement and its inhabitants. For now though, she would help Corona push the carts to the smithy.

[[Collab with @The Irish Tree]]

Mamoru had to think on how to secure the area. It seemed that Gromgard's actual fighting goblins had a limited range. While no doubt goblins like Shill and Pen could stay here, their whole mission here was to take them back to the Chateau, not leave them behind. Gromgard then asked Mamoru about yellow tape which she had no idea what he was asking about. "Yellow tape? Nothing in particular. I mean, I do remember at some point using yellow tape to mark off a section of wall during renovations in the Chateau. Do you mean to say we should mark off this area to show that we're going to work on it?" Thinking about it further, that actually wasn't too bad of an idea, if a somewhat silly one. Firstly this was in the middle of the forest, not the chateau, so she doubts anyone would actually bother to heed the tape's warning or recognize it as a boundary line. And secondly, Mamoru didn't have any yellow tape with her. She did have some rope and twine.

"I do not have any yellow tape, but I do have rope. How about I section off this area with the rope, and your goblins paint it yellow? Perhaps that should be enough to warn any passerby that this area is off limits. Hmm... Oh I know, I can call a Skeleton sentry here as well. This profane area would be the perfect location for such a being, and if anyone is criminal enough to ignore the yellow tape, the skeleton can hopefully scare them off before we can send someone from the Chateau to properly investigate this location." In fact, Mamoru knew the perfect person to send here. Since there was already some human remains here, perhaps the Chateau's own Bone Daddy might make some sense of this place. It'll be killing two birds with one stone. And so Mamoru would grab a few sticks from the trees, tying rope to them to section off the ritual circle. "Now then, if your two lovely artists can paint the rope yellow, we should return to the Chateau and report our findings. I will be sending an expert to this location along with a few sentries in order to secure the area and the resources we found. I'm detecting quite a few unique components I've never discovered before, so the sooner we can get them to the Chateau, the sooner we can settle into our new home."

Upon saying this, Mamoru felt a bit forlorn. She looked upon the night sky, recognizing that it was not the one she knew, yet at the same time felt oddly familiar with it. She wasn't sure what to make of this feeling as she started to pontificate. "Strange is it not? It feels almost as if it were only yesterday that you and I were simply servants of our Creators. In all honesty I barely knew anyone except my creators, and even my relationship with the other Chapter Lords feel like a formality. But now... Now there is no creator but Lord Rodias, who I have never truly had any interactions with before. Seeing him so modest and treat us so kindly it..." Mamoru stopped speaking as she didn't know what else to say. Though she had shown her dedication to his rule, these feelings inside of her still felt so confusing. "My apology. I only said this because I've realized that never before have I ever actually left the Chateau without my Creator. Anytime I went anywhere was with his permission, following his guidance and example. Serving Lord Rodias... It is quite an experience, is it not?"

Gromgard listened as Mamoru spoke and watched as she worked. "Perhaps red would work better." Gromgard suggested, allowing the artists to choose. "I've seen red work as a better warning color than yellow." He looked at the pair, letting them talk. They decided on orange.

Then Mamoru began rambling. She hadn't left without her creator? I mean, it makes sense, given her role. With a sigh, he stepped up beside her. "I cannot understand that. My creator made me for battle. I was often told to leave on my own." He patted her shoulder. With that said, he began heading back towards the castle. He knew Mamoru would send others to guard the area. As far as he knew, they had done more than enough.

On the way back, Penn and Shill began making a map, marking important-looking landmarks, which mostly happened to be strangely shaped or colored trees or rocks. The walk back to the chateau took longer than Gromgard had hoped and he figured sunrise was approaching by the time they returned. With a nod to Mamoru, he sent the goblins, artists included, to their hive, and began heading to Lord Rodias' throne. He'd let Mamoru do most of the talking.

---

Flan was slightly disappointed that Master Rodias only went as far as to get more spices planted in the garden, but it was at least a start. Planting would help in the future, but at the moment what was needed was supplies they could harvest from the wild or procure from the locals. Still, at least he was trying and of course she was ecstatic when he mentioned how he was willing to try any of her cooking, no matter how experimental. To think he was willing to try anything that she made, it was a dream come true!

Unfortunately Master Rodias could not stay for much longer and had to leave Flan to her own devices. Once he was gone she quickly washed his used dishes with her own slime while she hummed a little ditty to herself. Her predation ability quickly ate even the smallest bit of residue left over on his plate, leaving it squeaky clean. Soon everything was back in order and a very satisfied and bubbly Flan took off her uniform and settled down for the rest of the night, dreaming of the next amazing dish she would craft for the master.

---

Flan was already awake by the crack of dawn preparing from the day's next set of meals. While she was working, Chunnitrixx came in and started making toast. Flan liked to be the one to make things for the Chateau members but if it was for something simple like toast, she was content to let them do it themselves. Toast and other dishes that required bread were one of the easiest and most abundant dishes that could be created thanks to her Self-Filling Bread Basket.

After a little slap-stick comedy with Master Rodias, the two left which left Flan alone in the kitchen, at least until disaster struck. After a short break, Chunnitrixx burst back into the kitchen and without warning, started to devour everything in sight. Flan watched in horror was preparations for other members food vanished before her very eyes. Flan's expression stayed pleasant throughout the ordeal, but her slime started to bubble up in anger at the desecration of her kitchen.

Mamoru burst in soon after and offered to help evict Chunnitrixx, while Flan was greatful for the offer, this was her kitchen and therefore her territory to defend.

"I appreciate the offer Mistress Mamoru though I would as you to interfere only if necessary." Flan kept up her servant's smile but her face looked like a shadow had fallen over it. Flan started to make lots of tentacles which proceeded to pick up every knife nearby. Long knives, butcher knives, cleavers, bread knives, and of course her favorite Butter Knife of Meat Cleaving which made it to her left hand.

"I would have been more than happy to make you some breakfast before you decided to devour other people's meals here in the Chateau. Are you trying to prevent me from serving the others on time? Do you want me to be seen as a lazy cook?" Flan's smile grew unnaturally wider as she talked and her predator slime's instincts started to show themselves. Pretty soon a dozen of knife welding tendrils were spread in a wide arc, the knives scrapping against each other as if in anticipation of a meal. After a moment, a dark mist started to billow out of Flan's body as it started to produce lots of poison.

"If you don't stop eating other's food, I'll assume from now you'll want some of my, special flavoring from now on." To emphasis what she was alluding too, Flan's butter knife started to drip with poison. As the butter knife had such high penetration values it was almost certain to infect anything it stabbed, once it was coated with poison.

Flan obviously couldn't win in a fight considering her level, but she certainly wouldn't exactly lose either and the results would be particularly painful. Flan was pretty confident in her durability, plus she was absolutely positive the Chateau couldn't afford to lose its precious Head Chef, certainly not after she had left such a positive impression on Master Rodias. Of course the point was just to get Chunnitrixx to back down, not to actually get in a fight but Flan was not afraid to get a little rough if she needed to when her job's credibility was at stake.

@Lugubrious @Archmage MC

Salem was caught off guard by Graft's sudden movements and pouted as Graft slapped the defiled hat back on the doll's head. Floating out of reach of the director, Salem complained, "Geez...! I was only joking~ But you're one to talk about cooperation! Unless you've forgotten, your 'job' isn't maximizing benefit to yourself, but to maximize benefit to the Chateau. Yet when I suggest an amicable quid pro quo, you say it is in your nature to get something for nothing from Light and I, and exploit our goodwill. We are, for lack of a better term, your business partners, and you should be investing in our mutual relationship." Of course, Salem was merely arguing for the sake of arguing, and only repeating stuff they had heard from Dr.Drd when the Sable Lord complained of 'management'. "And in a tantrum, you've ruined my best hat~! But I'll forgive you. It's clear that the creature in front of you has made you emotional, so you're not the usual, objective, dependable Graft that we all know and love. Don't worry, I'll keep your secrets for as long as you desire, free of charge! And just to show that I treasure our relationship, I'll give you something else for free; some advice~!"

Up to now, Salem, while pouty, had maintained a precocious and chipper attitude, but the doll suddenly became grave. "I know a thing or two about being the favorite of a creator." Salem's eyes darted over to the nightgaunt, scanning and lingering over every injury. Salem was momentarily grateful that it's own body parts could be easily replaced so that no scars remained, but that soon became resentment as the doll vengefully longed for some lasting evidence of abuse to show the world, but that thought quickly passed. "I thought each Chapter Keeper was their respective creator's favorite like I was. I see now that I am mistaken." Salem was heavily insinuating to Graft, without revealing too much, that the nightgaunt was Brushen Penn's favorite. Salem was pretty sure Graft knew what was being implied. "Destroy it. That is my advice to you. If nostalgia and abandonment are driving you, know that nothing you do with it will bring your creator back. If curiosity is driving you, then turn back, it's not worth it. You might think that you can control it, mold it how you want, exert power over it, but some forces, emotional forces, cannot be measured. Our remaining Lord, Rodias..." Salem sighed, realizing that their next words could be greatly misinterpreted, but soldiered on, "I fear Rodias is emotional, and therefore unfit to lead. And if Lord Rodias learned of this...thing, this...legacy of another Sable Lord, well, I fear for your position. Our creators are fickle, and cannot be expected to be objective. No matter your loyalty, no matter your service, they will give their attention to the next, newest plaything, more so something with sentimental value. Do not give them that opportunity, do not let yourself be replaced, for your own sake and the Chateau's. Destroy it. I won't tell anyone."

In the next instant, the childish act returned. "alright, it's getting boooring~ in here. The only thing more boooring~ than doing work is watching someone else do work. I don't need to supervise you since everything you make is excellent, and I would be daft to pay to watch something I find absolutely droll. Anyways, access to my wardrobe is still open to you and the new lady, no strings attached. Welp! Time to blow this popsicle stand!" With that, Salem left the Factory, though on it's way out, Salem tossed the ruined hat into an open furnace. Items were created to be destroyed.

---

@The Irish Tree

Having returned to the City of Lost Things, Salem pondered momentarily on Graft's outburst. Salem had no memory of Graft ever acting out to such a degree, and as much as the doll was loathe to admit it, it was kind of scary. This was coupled with the fact that Graft had a weapon that could very easily and utterly destroy Salem. As much as Salem was a nihilistic brat, Salem still understood that relations in the Chateau needed to be maintained; for self-preservation, and because it was the only home Salem knew. Salem now knew that the Graft only gave himself the allowance of being a greedy businessman, and while he gladly threatened to make his allies pay for trivialities, he apparently balked when the same was done to him in return. Being the overseer of the Factory, Graft, paradoxically, was a creation but made ultimately to be a creator, so for him to embody the same hypocrisies as their creators was not unusual. But for the time being, Salem would play nice.

Salem went through the City's inventory of glass eyes and also scoured for small glossy red and black beads that could easily pass as vermin or bird eyes, tearing them off of the City's subjects if necessary. Having prepared all this, Salem took possession of the eyes and beads, allowing them to extend the doll's vision. Salem covered them in cloth and placed them in boxes to be sent to the factory to be inserted into the dolls Graft was preparing. As a bit of a peace offering, Salem made sure the boxes could only be opened from the outside and not from the inside by, say, a levitating eyeball, and included specific instructions to keep the box closed and the eyes and beads covered with cloth at all times so Graft would know that Salem had no intention of spying on the Factory's inner workings.

The boxes were then delivered to the Factory by a threadbare teddy with stuffing flowing out of generous gashes. It hardly mattered if it returned to the City in one piece or not. Having noticed that there were several scouting parties outside the Chateau, some more permanent than others, the constant surveillance that Salem provided with the doll heads scattered outside were becoming redundant. At the very least, the Chateau had fewer blindspots now, so Salem decided to recall any whose vision overlapped with the scouts so that their eyes could be re-purposed for the spying facsimiles under construction. Fewer than half of the doll heads levitated out of their positions and proceeded to return into the Chateau, but to do this, they would need to pass through the entrance, the 5th Chapter. While attempting to unlock the Chapter, Rodias would likely be suddenly greeted by the disturbing sight of a stream of mutilated doll heads suddenly hovering into his vicinity. Noticing Rodias piqued Salem's curiosity, and the heads converged on Rodias. "Whatcha up to?" the heads would say in broken unison.

Hunt for Answers

”Oh yes. While our beloved sire Sun200 would love to have everything and anything in the pens, he was a collector through and through you see, I know for a fact he’d have prioritized getting this one if he saw it.” Kaldora replied when Zouyu suggested that her master would have loved to capture the beast. She knew she certainly would, it was quite the magnificent creature, at least compared to the rest of the sorry excuses for creatures that they’d seen so far. This one at least would make a fine fighter in her beloved arena.

”Quite the wild thing aren't you darling?” Kaldorna commented dotingly upon hearing the weretiger’s desire to punch the beast in the snout to establish superiority.

”Now as to whether we should try and bring it back. Well it’s still the day time and we don’t know quite how dangerous it is. Then again as you said there's only one way to find out how strong it is, and it would be good to know how dangerous this world can be as soon as possible. Also wasn't that area where someone saw those scouts hmmm?” Kaldora said as she debated the issue with herself out loud. She plucked a notebook out from her jacked and then flipped through a few notes she had made while hearing report earlier till she found what she was looking for and said ”Yes it was! That means we might have an ♬ audience ♬”

That last part clinched it for Kaldora who then immediately began planning the hunt ”We’ll need your leafy shade barrier of course darling. Some kind of fallback area for the wounded or sun struck. Maybe we can herd it into the forest?” she said, again mostly to herself before exclaiming that ”oh and I need to wake Arthanar of course.” before storming off into the camp.

After being awoken from his slumber and reacting with “cor what a beut” when shown the beast the hunt’s captain was fully onboard with the idea. In hardly any time at all the entire expeditionary force had been infected by the two senior vampire’s enthusiasm and the sleepy camp came alive with a buzz of activity. Mounts where saddled, hounds released and armaments were primed. Only a short time after Zouyu’s return a contingent of hunters and tamers road into the daylight to the sound of a horn being called. Clad in hooded cloaks, their faces guarded by masks and shielded from above by sunbrellas strapped securely to their mounts the vampires truly unleashed themselves on this world for the first time. They were hunters, predators one and all, and now they had finally found a worthy quarry.

With the Skink Hounds bounding along beside them and Kaldora’s Smogticor loping through the grass behind them the party made good time towards the snowy plains the beast called home.

”Remember ladies and gentlemen. This isn’t YGGDRASI and nor is this yesterday. Unlike the masters mad dash of the past week we’re in no rush today and we also don't entirely know what to expect of this world. So be careful my darlings, we have all the time in the world to get this right and no way of knowing we can set things right if things go arye.” Kaldora insisted

“Aye the lady’s got it right, keep your wits about you lads and lassies, we dinny know if we can get you back up if ya fall, and we definitely canny replace you now the master ain’t with us no more.” Arthanar added his words to hers.

”Just so my dear. Just so. But enough dire thoughts. For today is a glorious day, for today we will show this new world what we were made for! Onwards hunters, our pray awaits us!” she called out before spurring her mount forwards.

As the hunt approached the location of beast in a thunder of hooves a number of groups broke off to begin preparing the terrain while the main team rode closer to the pachyderm. They fanned out in well practiced formation, forming a wide net before they advanced towards the beast’s location, as hunters pulled out weapons while tamers rallied the skink hounds to run in between the mounted warriors

“We probably should a brought bigger hunin hounds” Arthanar commented as the comparatively small armored dogs got into position.

”Perhaps, but with my skills we should be able to let them bridge the gap.” Kaldora noted before asking the Hunt’s Captain ”Now then, shall we begin?”

“Aye, lets.” Arthanar replied, his anticipation almost palpable as he brought out his massive bayoneted musket before calling out to his hunters “Ya all ken the drill! Standard tactics for large solitary herbivores. Keep spread out and on yer toes and don’t get caught in its charge.”

As the hunters advanced out of the shade of the woods and onto the plains towards the beast Kaldora hung back a bit with Zouyu and spoke with him about what he should do.

”Stick with me for the start of this my darling, till we find out the temperament of the beast. Then what we’ll do is weaken it a bit before herding it or luring it into a trap our fellows are preparing at this very moment.” she explained simply.

As Arthanar checked over his oversized musket ahead of them it was rather clear how they’d be finding out its ‘temperament.