[FONT="]Quell weathered the Cleric-in-Chiefs storm of racial epithets in silence. His sleek ivory mask hid a contorted face that twitched with each of her slurs. Training kept Quell rigid as a gargoyle while the Cleric-in-Chief paced, her stout body bent like a drake studying fresh carrion. She grabbed objects from her desk and tossed them against her office wall to punctuate her rage.
Bunch of ****ing ignorant morons what do they know about running a blossoming nation? Her voice had lost its veneer of grandmotherly kindness for façade of artificiality. She stopped, looked up at Quell. Well, are you going to do your job not?
Cleric-in-Chief, I am a tool awaiting its proper usage. Quell gave a half-bow.
The Cleric-in-Chiefs hands jerked into hooked claws. She raked a missive from her desk and thrust it at Quells mask. Read it! Use your Primeval-given magic and bring these degenerates to justice!
Quell took the missive, skimmed it. Cleric-in-Chief, these folks simply want what you promised them. He cocked his head. Does an employer asking the employee to produce make the employer a degenerate?
It does when you pull **** like this! Just look at it, these scrying images! The Cleric-in-Chief threw them at Quell. Then she poured a stiff drink and downed it in one go.
Quell did. He erected a shield against the grisly display: Their money is being dumped into your war while their heroes go to rot in your chapels, Cleric-in-Chief. Quell winced at the lie. Their heroes die in your chapels, get repurposed by the sculptors, and trotted out as the gods incarnate of your manufactured faith.
Quell found his shield of truth lacking in the face of the brutal executions depicted in the scrying images. An ache began growing in his temple. Why does it have to be so difficult?
How long has this been going on? Quell said, hesitantly. He had a good idea of the timeframe.
The Cleric-in-Chief gave the answer Quell dreaded. Since I rained magic down on their neck of Jungko.
Deploy me, Cleric-in-Chief. I will see to it that justice is served.
The Cleric-in-Chiefs haggard face pulled a smile that stopped short of her eyes. Very good, Angel-in-Exile.
Quell winced. He didnt like the way she spat out his title. It is who I am. Why does it give you offense?
*
North of the Cleric-in-Chiefs cathedral of arches, flying buttresses and onion-dome turrets rose three casinos stocked with slots, tables, and delicacies imported from around the world. Sprawled in the darkness between was a network of streets leading to a hustler club whose façade was in disrepair. Demon hatchetmen stalking in the shadows trembled at the emanations from the oni statue hidden within Boss Urais hustler club.[/FONT]
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Boss Urais fingers brushed the statue of the chained oni as he reached for his ledger. He started at the faint, demonic chuckle in his ear. The slam of the books cover silenced it. The numbers in the ledger kept Urai tied to the thing sitting across from him.
Theres no need for violence. She leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs. Primevals know this lands seen enough of it. The purple silk of her robes emphasized curves in all the right places.
Veil caught Urai eyeing her, leaned forward giving him a view of her cleavage while she took his oni statue. A black-gloved finger teased at the demons chains.
The Prisoner, here, she indicated the oni statue, loves what youve done. Hes a runner for the oni kings in Eberrai. Smuggling minor demons to any interested in striking a bargain. Needless to say, hes also upset at your desire to end the Cleric-in-Chiefs war.
My books have seen enough of this war. Urai said. Its hard enough keeping the other bosses from swooping in on my operations while the ****storm of war rages on. He waved at this sumptuously furnished office. All of this? Its a reminder of where I came from. And, what I do not intend to return to.
The Veil of Night nodded. Thats more of less how your patron oni feels. Only, I need it back in Eberrai. The Naga are wrecking my homeland with privation. Their Orochi thralls have become wellsprings of toxic virtues. The humans there are looking for a juicy infernal pact or two to spice things up.
Well hey, then, todays their lucky day.[/FONT]
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Really, now? The Veil of Night laughed. The swirl of emotions is why the Prisoner is so fond of you, Urai. Putting on the wise mentor guise and convincing your newest acquisitions that they would avenge their dead parents, that takes
Shut it, lady. Urai reached into a drawer and took out a contract. Its all numbers.[/FONT]
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Exactly that, Boss, the Veil of Night said as she signed the proffered contract. Price and respect.[/FONT]
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[FONT="]The Cleric-in-Chief locked her liquor cabinet. The knock at her door sent her hand back to the key. It lingered, shaking. She made a fist, dropped it at her side and said, Enter![/FONT]
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[FONT="]An odor of reptilian oil crept in ahead of her visitor. He entered in a hiss of blue snakeskin leather, a broad albino whose sun-bleached hair scraped the rooms ceiling. The exarch held a bestial mask a manned dragon with a square, fanged snout.[/FONT]
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[FONT="]Its getting ugly down south. The Exarchs baritone voice eased the Cleric-in-Chiefs fist. His mouth hung open in a slight smile.[/FONT]
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[FONT="]The Cleric-in-Chief massaged her temple. Its been ugly since time began. Why am I peddling excuses for the armies from Eberrai, Kargathdra, and Primevals know who else when they cant maintain the peace?[/FONT]
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[FONT="]The exarch shrugged. My clerics have a fresh clutch of your laboratory-grown gods prepped according to the description in the southland tribes holy books. He proffered the dragon mask. Dont be too hard on the soldiers the Navajko proclivity for violence is probably inbred by this point. The genes probably the same that encodes the extra digits.[/FONT]
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[FONT="]The Cleric-in-Chief took the mask. You can expect a fresh batch of soldiers for the EC program. The idiots need a reminder if they fail, then I fail and were all for the gallows if that happens.[/FONT]
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[FONT="]The exarch nodded. Well fulfill the inbreds end-world prophecies and all will be well. Nothing brings compliance like ones gods returning triumphant.[/FONT]
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*
Veil of Night crossed the ruins of Jungkos interior under the cover of night. Among the skeletons of academia she saw the banners of a dozen foreign nations. Colonnades were vandalized with the graffiti of traffickers, drug runners, and other pressgangs hiding behind the false flag of refugee relief. In the shadows Veil of Night picked out the natives. They were as prisoners, hiding in the lee of the Eyes of the Cleric.
Dawn heralded the end of Veil of Nights quest. Within a jungle ravine she found the ziggurat and its surrounding village. She approached quietly. In the moldering village Veil of Night marked the hiding inhabitants. A red glow surrounded her gloved hands. Within the bundles of magic reptilian horrors probed their mystic prison. The grotesque hybrids of wingless dragon and lamprey were hungry. The threat of violence kept the locals in line.
Veil stopped at the fence surrounding the ziggurat. Confidence is whats keeping them from attacking little ol five-foot nothing me. Soldiers were impaled on an arc of stakes. Bandoliers of ammunition ran the length of the execution. Among the soldiers were corpses with Boss Urais brand tattooed on their necks. A lot of help you were, Boss.
A snap behind her caused Veil to start, her finger depressing the mystic trigger keeping her sorcery in check. In a flash of red her horrors were freed. The pale creatures crouched, muscles trembling with weakness from disuse. Black eyes along their necks and lampreylike snouts blinked against dawns light.
Villagers rushed from cover, wielding axes, sickles, and hoes. Veil activated a pair of charms from Kargathdra. The first, hurled, hit the mass of horrors. It birthed a fiery serpent that devoured horrors and villagers whole. The second charm hit, releasing a black mist of leechlike tendrils that expunged the village of the sorcerys residue. The threats cleared, her footprints wiped clean, Veil slipped between links of artillery and entered the ziggurat.
At the ziggurats heart lay a jitte inscribed with glowing green runes. Veil tapped into the mountains of distant Kargathdra and shattered the jitte with a slash of her hand. Green mist bled from the broken artifact.
Welcome back, Elri. Veil bowed to the creature that emerged from the green mist. Eyes burning like green coals swept the ziggurat. Slit nostrils in its blunt snout flared.
It hurts. Elris eyes narrowed. It grunted. Primordials and Primevals does it hurt.
Yes, it does, Engineer. Veil said. Cloak the lie in just enough truth. Just in case.
Do not call me that. Ive failed
Throw a pity party and Im throwing you back into the jitte. Im not here to play your politics. Veil laughed and shrugged. Im here to help, believe it or not.
I would hardly call summoning a host of Forerunners help.
Is that what you call those dragon-lampreys? Dont worry, Ive taken care of them. Veil smiled. Im here to help you make a home. You would like that, yes?
Elri nodded, leaning apelike on his knuckles. Thats all any of us want. A place away from the wars.
Walk with me, Engineer. Veil offered her arm. Elris scaley green one twined with hers. Together they walked from the ziggurat. Villagers had come out of hiding to congregate around the barrier of impaled soldiers. Awe of Elri bent their knees. The engineer loped forward, landed on squat froglike legs and pointed its staff at the corpse-fence.
[/FONT][FONT="]A blast discharged from the staff. Clotted blood snaked from the corpses, wrapped with green fire, slithering among the ravines rocks. Blood magic woke elementals of mountain and jungle.[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]Veil let the crowd of Navajko villagers swallow her and Elri, then slipped away while the Engineer healed their hurts. Beyond the villages walls she discharged her summoning spell. The dragon-lampreys groveled and mewled at her boots.[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]Bring us the Cleric-in-Chief. Youll know her by the scent of her ghosts. Veil stroked a dragon-lampreys head. Theyre her favorite analgesic.[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]Veil cracked her knuckles, watching the Forerunners scuttle out of sight. She felt a tug on her snug dress and looked down. A kid, all skin and bones hidden in a shell of bone armor.[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]Of course theres a kid, [/FONT][FONT="]Veil thought. She pulled a smile and got eye-level with the little reminder of why she did what she was doing. [/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]Lady, please, can you help me?[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]My, arent you a smart little one! You know the Eberraiese language![/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]My mommy taught me. Eyes shone with excitement. Voice brimming with eagerness, he said, She bought me books from the seaside citadels! His face fell, he sniffled. Shes gone.[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]The worlds history in three words: children are dying. [/FONT][FONT="]Veil pulled what she hoped was a sympathetic mask and took the little boy in an embrace. It would be my fortune to get cornered by a living one. [/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]Im going to do what I can. She felt the boy shaking in her arms. The *****-in-chief is first on my list. Ladys going to fall, hard. [/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]Veil tightened her hug, whispered what she thought a mother would to console her frightened child. How many like this one have I created, running my operations across this world?[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]The thought sent a bolt of impotent rage through Veil.[/FONT][FONT="]
*
[/FONT][FONT="]Quell walked the roads of the Cleric-in-Chiefs capital city. He felt the gaze of her Eyes of the Cleric tracking his progress. The Cleric-in-Chiefs aura didnt radiate from her malformed corpse-gods. Their flesh glowed with white-hot anger for the Cleric-in-Chief.[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]To the Ivory Tower, dear angel, [/FONT][FONT="]was the prevailing thought coming from the ECs. The voices behind the thoughts were slow, heavy as if coming from someone fighting against a drug-induced coma. Their information was good. We are tired of her wars.[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]Quell entered the tower, found a library and settled in for a long night of research. He learned of the Navajko tribes that once inhabited a ravine. The same ravine to which the Cleric-in-Chief believed she had sent Quell. In the ziggurat they conjured a dirty bomb disguised as a nineteen-headed hydra. They tricked their enemies into killing the hydra, triggering the enchantment within the creature. Hate in their hearts motivated it. He pulled over a volume describing the interplay of magic with physics. Reverse spell engineering
Im going to need some scratch paper.[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]Quell went to find paper and a writing utensil. On the way back to his hideaway, he stopped and glanced out a grimy window. [/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]Always, it seems, there is sorcery. [/FONT][FONT="]The glow of life coming from the capital city was strong. How many down there really agree with the Cleric-in-Chief
.not many, Im sure. He squared his shoulders and returned to the hideaway in the ivory tower. Always a sorcery.[/FONT][FONT="][/FONT]
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[FONT="]His mind wandered into the past, to the skies above where he had soared on angels wings, blazing sword cutting a great black-and-red dragon to bits. At his command the suns light lashed the dragon, the flare cutting it to fiery chunks of burnt meat. The angel cast the molten rain across Jungko, razing the lands of native and invader alike.[/FONT]
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[FONT="]None of them were totally clean. [/FONT][FONT="]Quell leaned forward, breathed deep the musty air to remind him of what awaited the folk of Jungko if he failed in his duty to the Cleric-in-Chief. Not even me that sorcery made it worse but heres the salve.[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]He began learning the summons he would need to pull off the Cleric-in-Chiefs requested justice.[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]*[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT][FONT="]The Cleric-in-Chiefs feather-winged elemental soared beyond the towers of her capital, southbound for the Navajko tribal lands. There the ruins turned to seas of saprolings crashing into her progress engines. The sentient flora was tearing into the manaline construction sites as easily as they shredded the multinational armies shed brought in to oversee the lines development.[/FONT]
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[FONT="]This is the **** I put up with. [/FONT][FONT="]She clenched the talons of her elemental in a white-knuckled grip. These savages have got to learn whats good for them. Her eyes widened when she saw the reddish-green projectile coming at her elemental. The elemental sensed her fear and flickered away from the spell. An explosion and shriek of convoy elemental told the Cleric that her EC transporters were under attack from a barrage of sorcery. [/FONT]