Amun.
21st of Trescia, 1492.
Vrurian Empire, Nytholon Territory. The Cuttleship, Mach 1.9 at 10 km altitude.
En route to Chor.
8:15 AM.
——
[The Path of Zefroth: Step 4, The Minion. Task: Complete]
[Step 4 Reward: Mutation - [Devil's Tap] Like a tap in a barrel of ale, this mutation enables your warlocks to siphon Cursed Mana directly from your Cursed Well to fuel their eldritch power.]
[Step 4 Reward: Mutation: [Void Devil's Sense] - With your first warlock, the senses of the Void Devil have awoken, enabling you to sense what your warlocks do, regardless of distance or time.]
[The Path of Zefroth. Step 5: The Horsemen.]
[To continue down the path of Zefroth, you must elevate four of your Undying Fiends in their station by feeding them a divine fruit born from your divine tree.]
***
I was quickly realizing the downside to being a God wasn't the countless abilities. At least there was some solace provided, however, considering my sorcery and cleric paths often yielded the same results. The Cursed Well was the Antitheses of the Divine Well. As were the perks meant to distribute power to my followers, the mutations or transformations, and the sensory-enhancing abilities. If anything, they allowed me to give power to any of my followers regardless of their morals or creeds. Which, in the end, wasn't so bad.
No, it was the effect of the transformations that made it bad, for the most part. By the end, I would hardly be recognizable. Not to say I would look bad. To my eyes at least. On the contrary, what truly made everything from the abilities to the physical changes bad was the need to explain and describe everything a dozen times over every time I went somewhere new. Lengthy conversations. Visions that gave all the answers. Puzzles that guided them to the answer. No matter what I used, they always returned with questions.
I liked Etan. But holy shit. I had to duck into my pit with the Owl just for some peace and quiet. Now that the Owl was nearly done fabricating some wicked instruments, crafting a talisman, and composing a few songs, however, I found myself eager to return to the Plane and check up on the rest of the Troupe and found myself exploring the ship with my senses.
It went without saying, but they took to the Cuttleship like flies on shit, taking their wise rocks to claim their domains in the vast complex within hours of stepping foot inside and coming to terms with the vast scope of their new homes. But only I could truly appreciate the design.
For now, at least.
From the outside, when it wasn't camouflaged to blend in with the sky, it was seen as a colossal creature of the sea flying retrograde at supersonic speeds, propelled by a massive jet of fire that left its arms dangling helplessly behind it. They would measure it to be 2.9 kilometers in length, 740 meters wide, and 250 meters high.
The interior dimensions, however, were three orders of magnitude higher. 2,900 kilometers by 740 kilometers wide and 250 kilometers high. They knew it as a spacious, egg-shaped dome with organically shaped structures hovering throughout and many more smaller, man-made structures floating in between.
I knew it to be a cavern carved from muscle with necromancy. I knew the transportation network, utility and material conduits, and oblong buildings to be petrified and hollowed out veins, nerves, and organs merged with a few of my divine materials to create veritable industrial centers and arcologies.
In their eyes, they were countries ripe for the taking, and they claimed their domains with the utmost haste.
Of course, having more knowledge than all the others combined, Iris beat everyone in the race. Her realm was the toroidal organ surrounding the esophagus: the brain. Composed of 40 lobes, she turned each sub-unit of the brain into a separate sub-domain. Or, at least she planned to. For now, she only had four.
While the second, third, and fourth were her quarters, her lab, and her training room respectively, the first was a construct dedicated to analyzing the materials 'consumed' by the Cuttleship. As every ounce of material drawn in would pass by the brain as it fell down the esophagus, she came up with and implemented a means to scan, sort, and pre-process materials before they arrived at the stomach, where they proper industrial centers were.
Following Iris, Freki dragged his mob of fifty-something werewolves to the digestive glands sitting adjacent to the stomach the moment he came to understand the layout.
The district consisted of two oblong structures. Each was the size of a city-state and spatially distorted to the scale of worlds to make the most of his chosen industry. They were then connected via multiple bridges that looped over and under the massive esophagus-turned-conveyor belt.
Much to my amazement, he turned one of the organs into an impressive amalgamation of a planetary barbarian camp and a megacorp tower. His ten highest-ranking subordinates, dubbed Harvest Wardens, scattered themselves around the self-contained world to form tribes on each faux-continent, constructing concealed arcologies that doubled as mega-dens and a headquarters for their branch of agriculture. Yet, the surrounding lands remained as silvery forests. It was the other module that became continents of crops and roaming livestock.
Similarly, Blude dragged her ever-growing mob into the liver after demanding we intake more water to form a sea small sea or a great lake inside the organ. In the end, minimal land was to be found. Only a single large island and endless shores.
She wasted no time in bringing her dreams to fruition, ordering Sam and Redd around with a fervor I'd never seen in her before. It was seen in Sam and Redd as well, noted by the intensity in which they ordered around their girls and thousands of undead to construct cafeterias and offices and lounges and kitchens and plants and warehouses beneath the ever-calm shores of her domain.
Geri was much less enthusiastic. Choosing instead to meander around the ship until she came across the ink sack, wherein she found Kit and Hatchi, the Octo-Wagon docked peacefully in their 'Nests.' A bit more wandering brought her past the armory, then the deployment hatches, and finally, the hangar, where holographic blueprints of what could be stored inside caused her mind to stir in excitement.
I settled in the left eye shortly after Geri formed a garage within the complex for Kit and the Octo-Wagon. Some time later, we departed from Shavew and Etan came into my newly constructed domain with a mountain of questions. I was forced to dilate the time just so the transit wouldn't be filled with a Q&A session, and I could tell he still had more when he went to the right eye to form his monastery.
Not that I could blame him. Every aspect of his life changed in an instant. Not only that, but his future station demanded he learn things we both were certain never existed in these realms before, on top of being tasked with forming some type of industry.
All things considered, he was taking it surprisingly well. Though he still struggled with finding his chosen path now that he was free. Something I pondered long about and came to a solution during my stint in the Under just now.
In the dilated hours since, he'd created a domain of simplistic elegance out of the Cuttleship's right eye. It gave the impression of a library born from Darkworld nature. Mushrooms were spread throughout the space in a geometrical pattern, growing into shelves, benches, and mycelium mats that doubled as training areas while simultaneously removing any need for walls to be raised.
Rather than books, however, the shelves were filled with crystals, motes of light, and tablets containing notes, lessons, and memoirs mostly composed and entirely realized by his monastic abilities.
I found him in the largest concentration of such tomes. A semi-circle of furniture grown around a dais at the base of the floor-to-ceiling eye-window, currently displaying the endless green and white plains of Vruria lazily drifting by. The dais itself held no thrones, mats, or training implements, only a large crystal ball mounted into a podium that projected a dozen simultaneous feeds.
<> His voice rang out monotonously, yet accusatory all the same. <>
I raised my hands in mock defeat. <>
<
<
He snorted again. <
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No snort came this time, however. His crimson eyes only fell to the crystal ball with a wave of his hand and the many projections flickered between various channels within the Legions.
<
<
<> He said, pointing out Hogaz braving the rough seas by diving beneath them. Then Curious Twig as she roamed the woods with Tao. Followed by Duke, leading a wing of his subordinates over the mountains.
< < <