With NoxNet online, Edward returned to the original, and it was back to the Creation Station for me to craft the Commanders' equipment. And for them, a different approach was taken.
First and foremost, their backgrounds, lifestyles, personalities, and classes were taken into account, and, with their help, a base design for their unit or organization was established as a template and color palate. Then came the tedious task of making variations of uniforms and equipment for each Commander based on their class and occupation.
For the Witches, Scarlett and Phelia, and any other who would come about, I altered the eyewear to make them sensitive to life and death energies in addition to being able to see mana. Scarlett, however, was one of the few with multiple classes, surprisingly so. Being a Druid also, she received a staff made from my divine tree as well as a set of light armor made from lunar silk and Silverwood; Unlike Mary's, whose armor was made of the same lunar wood in addition to a crown made from the antlers of a Silverhorn Stag.
By themselves, they held illusory and radiant powers, but with the many elemental enchantments imbued within the headpieces, they gave the wielder the power to terraform the environment around them as they saw fit.
With Jonet's magic, the Bards were given instruments capable of playing as loudly or quietly as they pleased and more, they were capable of playing holographic recordings streamed across the various networks.
Most intriguing of all, however, was the prize toy sent out to the Bards. It was composed of an enchanted electronic core imbued with a neutral soul and encased by various metals and ceramics. In turn, the sentient core was surrounded by a shell of Demowood that sandwiched a film of Bio-Glass between a casing of Dimensionite.
All combined, this created a sentient drone that could reform into any desired shape at will. And with enchantments of gravity, Moonlight, and Twilight, it was given superior maneuverability, divine protection, and perfect invisibility.
In other words, it was a Satellite.
Such a fantastic creation, it was, that the Owl sent the souls of failed experiments over to be imbued into Satellites for Legionaries currently in service to record their adventures and stream them across both networks.
With that short distraction gone, I moved on to the sparingly few items dedicated to the monks. For them, there were only weapons. Enchanted war fans for Peter. Magical Chakrams for Veil of Shadows. And an adamantine skin for Rua's sentient weapon.
The other classes necessitated more obscure or specific enchantments. The rogues received enchantments that could Bamf their weapons back to them after being thrown or allow them to disappear into a snowy mist or rig silent explosives.
Paladins required enchantments imbued with the power of their affinities and aligned with their oaths. The rest were even more varied and depended largely on demand. For a few, there were necklaces. Ash, Roheisa, and Urshure, to name a few. Some were meant to temper magics, to teach them to use their powers in a certain way. Others, for shifting between realms.
More received rings, bracelets, or weapons, many of the Rangers and fighters and all of the Barbarians being examples; giving them abilities that varied from allowing the wearer to speak with animals or breathe underwater and at high altitudes.
All received… something that would enable them to absorb the constitution or strength of those they defeated and raise them as undead. Shadows and otherwise. But the greatest creations were, naturally, for my clerics.
That, however, had to wait. As I had a bunch of toys to make for a certain witch in a faraway country. And after that, I was to make my official debut as a Grandmaster Artificer.
***
The Owl.
***
At this point, it didn't matter if Archie linked Borrowed Time with Amun. The deal was done. And Archie would soon be overcome by a zealous greed so strong that he'd damn every soul who dared enter his domain.
That wasn't to say the Owl wasn't busy, for the Owl had been just as busy as Amun, watching Archie from afar. Whispering in the ear of those who were just as wicked as he to guide them towards his office- his domain. Giving him and nearly everyone in the upper echelon of his former workplace and the hundreds below them the cover of darkness while they walked and walked and walked northeast. Ripping souls from those who strayed too far from the group. Overseeing the undead construct his castle.
And so on. And so on.
By the time Amun began toying in his labs, they made it to the Tri-Point and persuaded many more to join them in their endeavor. The hilly region claimed the borders of the Rhar Kingdoms to the northwest, the Principality of Chaulort to the southwest, and the Kasian Empire, stretching along the entirety of the peninsula's eastern half on this side of the mountains. In turn, smothering Brybs on the eastern coast.
Other than the hot springs that made these lands well-traveled, there were no towns or municipalities found here. There were, however, many encampments, bases, and fortresses for the perpetually warring orcs, dwarves, and goblins that claimed the hills and the underground. Hence the lands being so well traveled.
That said, the Owl was intrigued all the same as the strange customs found on this side of the southern peninsula became apparent. Every society in Kasia could have easily been considered warmongers. That was true from every species from humans, elves, and dwarves to, of course, goblins and orcs. It was the land of Fighters, after all.
However, every species in Kasia treated Witches and their Witch Huts- the common term for hospitals- as neutral zones. They did not attack the Witches of Chaulort. Nor did they attack each other whilst under care or even after leaving the clinic. Only until they safely returned to their parties and slept through the night did they return to waging war.
Those from Rhar were different, however. Being mostly rangers, they cared not for witchcraft. By and large, that was true on a cultural basis as well. They used natural remedies, including potions, or, in some cases, preferred to let nature take its course. But still, they respected the witches and their huts so as to not bring conflicts their way.
In either case, that yielded plenty of souls for the Owl to claim and mark for Archie's witches to rescue. Not to mention a number of species for Archie to perform 'miracles' on. Humans. Dwarves. Orcs. Goblins. Hobgoblins. Bugbears. Ogres. Even a few elves. But also some 'exotic' species. Tabaxi. Tieflings. And lastly, a Goliath.
Before today, those marked had been walking aimlessly toward the hills. They'd been following some scratching impulse or sign or signal that led them to a place they couldn't see.
Now, however, they could see it. The only structure in the region besides the hot springs. And this one was far from it. Far closer to them, who walked faster and faster as the moments passed, for the building was grand. Far larger than any found at the springs and with a sign that plastered a name on every face so that the heavens themselves could see.
Only hours before they arrived, Archie entered like an old king waltzing to his throne. He looked around the place, not with the absorbent eyes of one seeing an architectural marvel for the first time, but with orderly eyes that imagined patients filling the place with pleading cries and desperate groans.
Directly to his office, he went, where he found Borrowed Time waiting for him with boxes and cages and containers filled with the holy grail of his career. However, a crystal decanter was his destination. He filled his glass with spirits and took several minutes to sip and look across his new domain. And after gazing upon his subjects for the first time, approaching his castle en masse, he got to work.
We got to work.
It was necessary to say that the place operated and was indeed a true hospital. Or as they called it, a Witch Hut. Pora Bora would survey the land, marking the wounded for retrieval. The Owl would then relay where the injured were to be found and Archie would send his witches out to find them. A simple, foolproof process.
True to the stories, the witches flew on brooms to accomplish such an arduous task. What was fascinating, however, was that it was one of the many tools of Witchcraft. It was an arcane focus that not only enabled them to find and retrieve patients quickly but also worked to sanitize any environment they were to operate it by simply… sweeping.
Similarly, other ordinary objects were employed for nursing or surgical tasks. Bowls were used as a focus to recreate the function of a catheter or to contain bodily fluids. Pots were somehow made into colostomy bags. Sticks and bones were used as scalpels. No matter whether they be tubes or pipes or rods or shells, all the devices were the same and yet varied according to the witch's taste.
As such, those with the Shadow of Death at their feet had whatever ailment other than a disease or lost limbs were treated in a matter of hours or sometimes days, ever eager to return to their village or tribe to spread the word about this amazing clinic at the base of the mountain.
And amazing it was. It was plush. It was grandiose. It was filled with amenities that made the patients feel like royalty. Three custom meals a day. The most amazing views. Musical devices played soothing music and a plethora of plants and herbs kept an odor in the air that held minor euphoric properties.
It was fascinating. All of it. The clinic, the patients, the process, and the land itself. The witches. And, of course, the number of patients who returned with the Shadow of Death looming over their heads.
By and large, the damned would have done anything to live just a bit longer. They became almost desperate for it when Archie sold them on the deal, telling them they'd revolutionize medical history and exceed the limitations of their flesh in one fell swoop.
Indeed, they were cursed and given deals, much like Borrowed Time. But much worse.
They couldn't leave their underground complex. After each interaction, they would forget whatever they discussed with Archie, the Owl, or Borrowed time; as well as the operation itself. And so too would they forget everything about their former lives.
Their sole purpose was to be implanted and augmented with artificial limbs and organs with varying degrees of success. Then, they'd die. And the process would repeat until Archie found his Eureka moment.
Indeed, it didn't take long to hear the shouts echoing through the complex. Archie and his witches became intrigued- enthralled by the process of testing and retesting these designs on others so much that they eventually started working on themselves.
They worked and worked, testing stranger and more exotic designs as the days passed, employing and using whatever was sent to them without a second thought.
Meanwhile, every byte of data was being transmitted to Amun to be analyzed and integrated into new hardware before the new toys- and new orders- were sent back.
Above all others, one order in particular made Archie burn with excitement at the possibilities. A single material- a single field of study, opened up a realm of experiments he'd never thought to employ in all his years.
That order was to study potions and toxicity in different life forms, starting with mana sensitivity potions. By the time he relayed it to his staff, four empty bottles were already strewn before his desk while beneath it, hidden in the shadows, the Owl chuckled silently.