Services Rendered 9
The clockwork heartbeat of the city of Dragunov had gone silent. It was just a few weeks ago that the sound of factories, foundries and workshops working at peak efficiency had dominated these streets. The cacophony of it all had been so extre that living in the city was impossible unless one used a set of special noise-filtering earplugs to dull the war cry of industrial revolution. And yet the ongoing march of progress had been stopped dead in its tracks, turned into a frozen wasteland that no longer saw the sun.
That wasnt to say that all life had been extinguished, however. Although the various machinery, golems and automata throughout the town had iced over and broken down completely, the citizens were still very much alive. They had huddled together into several huge camps, using whatever Spells, magic items and alchemical supplies they had on hand to stave off the cold. The gnos and dwarves of Horkensaft were a hardy people, so they wouldnt let a little whiteout break their spirit.
Unfortunately, that sentint was already 17 days old. With food dwindling and the storm showing no signs of abating, the citizens naturally grew more and more desperate. Whatever adventurers, rcenaries and guards were around had their hands full keeping the peace, but it was only a matter of ti before the volatile situation ca to a head. The grim future of neighbor killing neighbor over stale bread or two-year old canned beans seed all but inevitable.
Those were the thoughts of one Sergeant Frostbrand. The aptly-nad dwarven soldier had been stationed at a small outpost about thirty kiloters due west of the city prior to the appearance of this damnable whiteout. He and his n were forced to relocate to Dragunov when the storm hit, and were currently responsible for maintaining the security of one of the civilian camps on the southern edge of the city.
The officer had been tossing and turning in his bedroll for the past six hours or so, though he was hardly the only one. At least a dozen other n were in the room with him, drifting in and out of sleep much like he was. They were all huddled around a tal heater, which burned with alchemically-treated coal normally reserved for refining stubborn ores like mithril and orichalcum. The stuff gave off a steady fla and lasted for a long while, so it served as a decent enough heating elent of which the city had copious amounts of.
Unfortunately, while heat wasnt exactly a worry, almost everything else was. Having to ration food and drink ant that everybody was always hungry and constantly thirsty. Admittedly this was the aching for a pint kind of thirst rather than straight up dehydration, but it still contributed to the overall feeling of misery and put people on edge. To say that morale was in tatters would be a gross understatent.
Sarge! Sarge!
The gloomy atmosphere was suddenly pierced by a loud and strangely energetic voice coming from just beyond the forr storerooms door. Frostbrand grumbled under his breath as he crawled out of the relatively warm confines of his bedroll dressed only in his underclothes. He hurriedly put on his beige trousers, crawled into a gray sweater and finally put on a black coat with frightening speed. He hopped into his boots and stood up just in ti to see the one who had been calling for him open the door.
Sarge! shouted the baby-faced dwarf with all his might.
Keep it down, you idiot! barked Frostbrand. What did I tell you about conserving your energy?!
But Sarge! The lookouts spotted soone approaching the periter!
What, is it a runner from the other camps? Or a straggler whos just now coming in?
Neither! Its a stupidly tall figure coming in from the south, along the rail line! We think hes coming in from outside the storm!
Those words lit a fire under the Sergeants arse. As dubious as it was, this was still the best news theyd heard in over two weeks. Frostbrand ordered the n to get in gear while he followed the private out of the room and out into the cold outdoors. He hurriedly dashed through the streets and climbed up the citys periter wall, all while ignoring the people that were calling out to him. He ran over to where the lookouts were gathered, who greeted him with a curt salute when they saw him approach.
Where is he?! asked the dwarf in a borderline desperate manner. Wheres our visitor?!
Over there, sir. Right on the mag-rail track.
Frostbrand peered over the icy wastes in the direction his subordinate was pointing at. There was a thick gray cloud covering up the entire sky, a raging snowstorm in full swing off towards the horizon, and the ground was dyed almost completely pure white by ice and snow. This bleak scenery was more or less unchanged ever since this ss started, which was why the newcor stood out like a sore thumb. Unfortunately he appeared as little more than a black speck surrounded by an aura of bright flas that completely obscured his features. The only thing that could be discerned about this stranger was his height, which was much greater than any dwarf, human or elf the commanding officer had seen.
Send him a signal! he ordered. Let him know were here!
Soone behind him shot out a Fireball high into the sky in accordance with his orders. It seed to have worked, as the stranger changed their course and headed right for them. It was almost like a flaming boulder that left behind naught but steam and lted snow, moving at speeds easily matching that of a galloping horse. It reached the base of the wall in seemingly no ti flat, at which point it jumped up into the air. The flaming figure easily leapt the 8 ter tall wall in a single bound, landing squarely in front of Frostbrand with a heavy thud and a painful groan.
It was then that the dwarves got their first real glance at the mysterious visitor. What they saw was a red-skinned fiend that was carrying a blue-skinned woman with unbelievably huge tits in her many arms. Both of them were naked and covered with sweat, with the forr eagerly double penetrating the latter from behind and from below. Loud slaps seed to echo in the otherwise silent surroundings as Kora continued to relentlessly pound away at Xeras lower end, making her whorish tits bounce up and down in an almost hypnotic manner. An obscene bulge appeared on the djinns stomach with every thrust, making this pornographic scene so surreal that none of the soldiers gathered there knew how to react to it.
Kora then suddenly let out a primal roar as she bottod out on the forr succubus, unloading everything she had left into her. The deluge of seed that had been built up during her two hour long run-fucking session was eagerly swallowed up by Xeras lower ends. Her anal and vaginal muscles clamped around the twin intruders so hard that not a single drop was allowed to escape her fleshy confines. This caused her belly to balloon out until she looked like she was pregnant before the fiend finally ran out of HP and collapsed out of exhaustion. The insatiable slut fell on the ground with a wet plop shortly afterwards, wling and moaning to herself in ecstasy while the Koras body evaporated into nothingness.
Uh S-s-s-arge? called out one of the soldiers. What do we do?
Frostbrand never got the chance to muster a response as, much to his relief, the slutty demon suddenly disappeared in a puff of green smoke slling vaguely of brimstone. What appeared in her place was a cloaked figure, easily as tall as the fiend that was there until monts ago. The soldiers wouldve normally put up their guards and surrounded him, but they were far too hungry, tired, cold, and confused to actually give a damn about protocol.
Greetings, gentlen, spoke the masked man. I apologize for my familiars antics, but desperate tis call for desperate asures.
The two demons fuck-a-thon had been Boxxys improvised solution to traversing the frozen wasteland by proxy. Snacks flas could ward off the ice, but her weak body was unable to endure the harsh conditions for long. Arms, on the other hand, had so much stamina that she didnt know what to do with it, but even her seemingly endless reserves were sapped dry by the impossibly harsh weather.
Individually they were unable to cross the horrible snowstorm, but together they could cover each others weaknesses. All it took was to have the djinn shield both of them from the worst of the weather with her fire magic while the fiend provided her with a steady supply of energy and stamina. And since Snack was originally a succubus, the only way to do that was through lewd acts, leading to their perverse marathon.
Not that either of them complained, of course. In fact, they were secretly hoping to do it again, as the rush of it all had added a new layer of excitent to the act. It was without a doubt the best fuck theyd shared in a long ti, and the final climax had been so explosive that it left their unwitting audience wondering if it was all a dream.
Uh, okay? muttered the dwarf in charge. Whatever you say, stranger. Ah, Im Sergeant Frostbrand, the one in charge of this sorry lot.
In fact, they seed more than willing to forget they saw anything at all.
You may call the Sandman, said Boxxy with a bow of its head. Im a rcenary.
A rcenary? Did the capital send you here to look for survivors?
No, I am here for another matter entirely. Im afraid your colleagues in Gun Tarum dont even seem to be aware of your plight.
Damn. We sent six parties into that blasted whiteout to get help, but to think none of them made it to the capital
Why not just teleport outside its range? It shouldnt be all that difficult.
Aye, youd think it would be that simple, but sothing about this storm is ssing with the Wizards spatial magic. No matter how much they try, their Gates always end up in areas that are completely white. Im surprised you managed to arrive like you did, to be honest.
Hmmm. Then perhaps we should go inside and compare notes?
The Sergeant readily agreed and invited the Sandman into the temporary base of operations they had set up. He sent a runner to the central camp to inform them of the new arrival, then the two of them sat down over a cup of hot water and began exchanging information. The dwarf used a chair like normal, but his guest had to sit cross-legged on the floor due to his extre height.
As Im sure youve probably noticed, started Frostbrand, were in a bit of a crisis. The thing thats causing this is the Regulator that sits at the center of the city.
Is that the strange spire I saw shooting a beam of light into the clouds overhead?
Thats the one. Normally it maintains comfortable spring-like temperatures around here year-round, and also controls when and where we get rain. Its a predictable weather pattern thats pretty enjoyable once you get used to it. However, 17 days ago it went haywire and has been throwing snow at us ever since.
I see. Then the reason why the weather is relatively calm around here is because this is the eye of the storm.
Seems that way. How bad is the storm, exactly?
It stretches out to about seventy kiloters around the city in every direction. The outermost fifteen kiloters are like being attacked by a legion of angry Cryomancers. The next fifty or so are a bit better, but not by much. My minions would have lost their way a hundred tis by now were it not for the rail.
Right, the mag-rail. Do you know what happened to the train itself?
Im afraid I do. My familiars passed it on the way here. From what they told , it seed like the storm had caught it unawares and knocked it off the rail, wrecking it completely.
By my fathers beard muttered the soldier as he held his head in despair.
My familiars didnt have the luxury to check for survivors, but all things considered I judged it would have been a wasted effort anyway.
No, youre right. It was foolish of to hold out hope anyway. Even with the relatively calm weather around here its still been bloody cold. Had at least 400 people freeze to death in the first 2 days. 300 more the following week. Total death counts probably over a thousand by now, though it wouldve been a lot worse if we werent this close to the Palace.
Im sorry, the what?
The Palace of the Crystal Maiden. Its a hardcore dungeon in the mountains north of the city. Its covered with ice and filled with cold-attuned monsters and traps, so the local guilds and shops had a stockpile of dicines and magic items ant to help tackle frigid environnts. Weve been able to save a lot of lives thanks to those.
Interesting. Is the dungeon sohow linked to this Regulator?
So folks seem to think so, but I personally doubt it.
And you cant fix it or turn it off?
Doesnt seem like we can, said Frostbrand with a heavy sigh. An entire city full of them twitchy Artificers and none of them can figure out how that century-old piece of shit works. They say the Original Artificers designs are way too advanced for them. Fucking disgrace, the lot of them.
Have you tried knocking it down, then?
Aye, weve thought about it. However, were none too sure what might happen. You know the Vault thats near here?
I am aware of it, yes, nodded the Sandman.
It has so incredibly deadly automated defenses. They pop out of nowhere and completely decimate anything in their path should soone be stupid enough to try and force the door open. Were worried that blasted tower might have those and decimate our troops before we can even make a dent. Not to ntion weve no idea what would happen if we actually topple it. Ideally everything would go back to normal, but it may also wipe the city off the face of the map. As such weve put off on assaulting the place for the mont and waiting for outside help. However
The Sergeant took a sip of his hot water and stared at his cup blankly.
With the response from the outside being this slow, continued the Sandman, there might not be anyone left by the ti they finally get here.
Yeah.
I see. This is definitely a tough decision. One that I will be taking off your hands.
The Sandman abruptly stood up and left the room in a hurry, slamming the door behind him. It took Frostbrand a few seconds to realize the rcenary had one-sidedly decided to go topple the tower, after which he got up and ran up to the door. He placed a hand on the handle and was about to throw it open, but stopped himself dead in his tracks. He confird the hunger in his belly, the fatigue in his chest and the chill at his fingers, after which he casually walked back to the table and sat down.
He stared absentmindedly at those two mugs of hot water. lted snow heated with magic. The re notion that this was what passed for a drink these days suddenly seed incredibly poignant. He honestly didnt know whether to laugh or cry at how fucked things had gotten in such a short amount of ti. Just like he didnt know if he had the right, authority or even the desire to stop that rcenary from running off like that. This situation was so far out of his hands that the only logical course of action seed to be to give up and just sit there and wait for either salvation or destruction to co knocking.
What ended up visiting him next, however, was neither of those.
*SLAM*
The door was opened loudly and a very irate Lieutenant Highstone walked into the room. He was the highest ranking officer in the city, as denoted by how his pitch-black armor had actual war axe blades stuck onto his helt and shoulder pads. Those always struck Frostbrand as strange, as he couldnt help but think they just made the armor far less practical.
Sergeant! The hell do ye think yer doin out here?!
W-well, I, uh he stuttered.
Being broken out of his stupor by the Lieutenant's voice had montarily made him unable to answer. What was he doing just now? How long had he been just sitting here? The forrly hot water in front of him was literally starting to turn to ice by now, so it must have been quite a while. He didnt get much of a chance to recollect his thoughts, as his superior imdiately started demanding answers.
Yer outpost received an actual outsider, who ye proceeded to casually invite fer a chat and a drink! And then just let him walk out on ye?! Are ye fookin daft or sumthin?!
S-sorry, sir! I just- I dont think I was thinking straight!
Damn right, ye werent! Now I got a rogue elent walkin around this god-forsaken city! As if I didnt have enough shit to deal with! Do ye even know what he was here to do?!
Im not sure, sir! However, he seed really determined to bring down the Regulator!
Oh, now thats just peachy. And who was it that gave him that brilliant idea?!
I apologize, sir! He said the capital had no idea about our predicant, so I just-
They what?! Then what happened to all those parties we sent out?!
I dont know, sir. He said the mag-rails been totaled by the storm, too.
Fuck! Alright. Gear up, Frostbrand. Lets see if we cant find our guest.
Yes, sir!
The Sergeant quickly changed into his armor and t the Lieutenant out in the street. He followed him and his ard escort through the densely packed camp, wincing underneath his helt at all the glares he was getting from the civilians. They were accusatory stares that seed to put the bla of this entire incident squarely on his and Highstones shoulders. The fact that the soldiers were getting preferential treatnt when it ca to food and shelter did not help ease the citizens resentnt, despite that being the most logical course of action.
As they were about to leave the periter of the camp, however, they heard a commotion from up ahead. It didnt take long to see the cause of the disturbance, as the Sandman was quite literally towering over the crowd of people, who parted before him as he strode towards the ard contingent of troops. The soldiers raised their guards as if expecting an attack, which only served to put everyone on edge.
Greetings, gentlen, said the towering man with a polite bow of his head. Forgive the intrusion, but I am here to see Sergeant Frostbrand.
My na is Lieutenant Highstone of the Horkensaft Royal Army, said the commanding officer in an authoritative voice. Ye the rcenary who arrived from beyond the storm?
Indeed. I am known as the Sandman. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lieutenant.
Enough with the chit-chat! Why have ye co here?!
I am here on business, my good Lieutenant. My task is to track down a valuable item and return it to my client without incident. I have followed the trail here, but I am afraid it has grown, ahem, cold. As such, I must demand that you help find my target.
Ye daft, mate? What makes ye think Id jeopardize the safety of the citizens just to look for yer masters baubles or whatever?!
Because you owe for services rendered, Lieutenant.
Oh? And what services might ye be referrin to?
The Sandman pointed at the malfunctioning Regulator in the distance, its upper half easily visible over the rooftops due to its absurd height. He then snapped his fingers, and a total of five black spots appeared all over the massive structure. Those were all instances of the Singularity Spell, augnted by a combination of Power Overwhelming and Crystallize Magic. Each of the resulting Spell Crystals cost a whopping 3,000 MP and a magic focusing crystal to produce, and were then set in place and remotely detonated through virtue of the Warlocks familiars.
It had taken a bit of doing, but the effects were imdiate and devastating.
The five miniature black holes pulled out piping, bricks and wires from the spires midsection, quite literally ripping it apart. The people in the small square could only stare in disbelief at the destruction, watching as sporadic explosions engulfed the source of their misery. The tower beca engulfed in flas and smokes as the purple light shooting out of its top flickered and died with a whimper. There was a particularly big explosion near its base, after which the century-old weather machine collapsed in on itself, the sheer scale of it making it appear like it was falling in slow motion.
The clouds overhead began to part almost imdiately afterwards, bathing the city in the first traces of sunlight it had seen in over two weeks. The civilians and soldiers alike were flabbergasted. They were all pinching themselves and slapping their cheeks as if to confirm this wasnt a dream. Just feeling the warm sunlight on their cheeks was enough to bring tears to their eyes. It would probably still be a day or so before a storm of this magnitude completely dispersed and possibly months before the climate truly stabilized, but nobody gave a rats ass about such things.
Yeaaaaaah!
Were saaaved! The light of Solus shines down upon us once again!
Hail the stranger!
All hail! All hail!
Sandman! Sandman! Sandman!
They were too busy cheering and chanting the rcenarys na out of joy, applauding loudly all the while. Boxxy simply stood there, letting their praise (and Doppelganger XP) wash over it. It had initially gone to destroy that blasted tower because this snowstorm was a nuisance, but this outco was pretty tasty all the sa.
Well, Lieutenant, spoke up the Sandman. What say you to my request?
The dwarf-in-charge let out a long sigh. He would have plenty of ti to lant his own incompetence, but for right now he was just glad that not all his work had been for naught.
Very well. Follow to the central camp, he said with a jerk of his head. Ill hear ye out on the way.
The rcenary and the ard escorts left the encampnt as the cheers continued to rain down upon their savior. The good Sergeant remained behind, mostly to keep people in line and remind them that they werent out of the woods yet. The group walked the desolate streets, which were encased in varying levels of ice. Boxxy was then made thoroughly aware of the frozen remains of countless golems and automata that had been caught out by the vanquished whiteout. Fearing that Fizzy might have ended up like them, the Mimic decided to get down to the matter at hand right away.
So, about the thing Im looking for.
Aye, I did say Id hear ye out, so lay it on . What is it yere after?
A golem forged out of the purest mithril youve ever seen. Looks like a cute gnomish woman in her early twenties, extrely lifelike. Carries a huge wrench and answers to Fizzy. Ah, she should also be accompanied by a gno called Moss and a dwarf called Drummir, both male.
I see. Well, the good news Ive already t Fizzy.
You have?! Where?!
Unable to restrain itself, Boxxy dashed out in front of the dwarf and bent over at an almost impossible angle until they were face-to-face.
Woah, there! Watch it, ye creepy-!
Answer , at! insisted the shapeshifter.
I will! I will! Just hear out, right?!
The Mimic didnt say anything, so it rely rebuilt its composure and pulled its head out of the dwarfs personal space.
Sheesh! I gotta say, yer the most excitable giant Ive ever seen. Anyway, as I was saying, I t Fizzy over at the Vault Beneath the Mountain, where I was originally stationed. The shiny lass not only got the blasted thing open, but also managed to slip inside. However, it closed up behind her and we couldnt follow. Next thing we knew, the Regulator was acting funny and we were getting ice pellets for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
It would appear that, just as Boxxy had suspected, this entire debacle had been her doing. Whether directly or indirectly, she was definitely the one that set these catastrophic events in motion. It probably wasnt intentional though, which was a good thing. Otherwise the environntal damage she caused would have resulted in her violating the Taboo of Zephyra, Goddess of Rain and Travel. The Lieutenant himself didnt seem to bla her either, if his tone of voice was any indication.
One of her companions - this Moss you were talking about - managed to dash into the Vault after her. The other one seed to have been driven sowhat mad by the unnatural weather. We had him locked up for his own good, but he-!
I dont care about the extras, interrupted Boxxy. All I want to know is where I can find Fizzy.
Yeah, well this is where the bad news cos in. We tried to get into that Vault once the security system cald down, but we didnt get the chance. By the ti we returned from our cursory investigation of the Regulator, the mountainside had been reduced to a smoldering pile of rubble. The Vault, my base, my n. All of them - gone. We picked through the rubble looking for survivors, but-
Highstone reached into the Bag of Holding on his waist and pulled out what appeared to be a warped mithril plate.
-this is all we could find.
Boxxy stared intently at the piece of precious tal as it glimred in the recently restored sunlight. It took it out of the Lieutenants hands and flipped it around several tis until it finally realized what it was looking at. The thing in its hand was Fizzys faceplate, which despite being badly bent from so extre impact, still bore her trademark manic grin.
Im afraid yer pal Fizzys scrap tal.
So where are the other pieces?
Like I said, thats all we could find.
Then how can you say Fizzy is no more?
Look mate, face facts. Aint nothin that wouldve survived destruction like that!
You dont know Fizzy like I do, at. So either go out there and find my shiny, or I will crush your head like a grape.
Id like to see ye try ye cocky-
The Sandman delivered on its threat and grasped the dwarfs head with its left hand, then simply squeezed.
*SPLAT*
The head quite literally exploded in the next instant, as brain, skull and helt alike were crushed into a fine paste. The horrifically decapitated Lieutenants corpse then slid down to the ground, followed closely by the mangled remains of the other soldiers. Weakened by hunger, and the cold as they were, they were completely unable to react to having their commander murdered in front of their eyes before their lives were taken as well. The Mimic then gobbled up their corpses and disposed of their armor, making sure almost no evidence of its wrongdoing remained behind.
It then rembered that back at the southern camp, both the good Sergeant and hundreds of refugees had seen it depart with the Lieutenant and his team. It was also only a matter of ti before the officers subordinates over at the central camp ca looking for their leader. That was a lot of people that needed to be silenced, and the Mimic lacked a good way of doing so.
That wasnt to say it didnt know of a bad way to shut them up, though.
Perhaps I should just slaughter them all
It was the first genocidal thought Boxxy had had in a long while, and it really wanted to act on it. It didnt have to wipe out the city of Dragunov, but it certainly wanted to. After all, it went through all that trouble of saving them, yet they tried to weasel out of their paynt. Not to ntion that this had been the first ti ever it had even entertained the idea that its prized shiny might have been blown to bits. It was a notion that sohow made it even angrier than the ti it realized it had lost its life. Indeed, just hearing that ridiculous atbag insinuate that Fizzy had blown up seed to fill with with a violent rage, almost as if he had uttered the foulest of blasphemies.
*Ring-ring*
However, just as Boxxy had all but decided to give the people of Dragunov sothing to really worry about, it had gotten a call from Demons R Us. It didnt want to answer it, but past experiences had taught it that keeping them on hold was a bad idea, so it decided to get this over with and get to murdering A.S.A.P.
*Click*
What is it, Carl?! it snarled in a clearly hostile manner.
Woah! Who shat in your breakfast?
However, the voice that flowed into its mind was definitely not Carls, though it was definitely a familiar one.
Jonathan?
Yup. Just your friendly neighborhood God of Chaos here. Figured you wouldnt appreciate being soul-yanked without warning, so I borrowed Katorolomaongotts line for a bit instead.
Ah. Uh, thanks for the consideration?
Youre very welco. Now then, heres the thing. I got Mortir here with , and hes been whining at about how you curb-stomped two of his Heroes in a single night. Mortys got a high standard when it cos to choosing his people, you see, so hes not at all pleased youve left him without a worthy candidate.
Oh. Well, I was just trying to secure my own life against a bunch of assassins. Its not my fault one of them lied to and forced my hand.
Maybe not, but hes still pretty mad. At the sa ti hes also kind of impressed you managed to pull it off. All things considered, hes willing to forgive you on two conditions.
Boxxy wasnt sure what being on the God of Deaths shit list entailed, exactly, but it was a safe bet to assu nothing good would co of it. Getting off said excrent manifesto was not the worst idea in the world, but whether or not the Mimic would try to do that depended on what Mortir actually wanted from it.
What conditions?
First of all, you have to do a bunch of jobs for him, explained Betsy. Hes even promising so kind of reward in exchange for your services, so you wont be working for free or anything like that.
Hes not going to ask to kill myself or sothing, right?
Uh, thats a good question, actually. Hold on.
Boxxy wanted to complain. Surely that would be the first thing to inquire about when dealing with the literal God of Death, right?
Okay, he says its nothing like that, said Philip after a while. The things he needs done are more or less at the level of errands. Mostly about killing the right people.
So its just rcenary work, but from a god?
More or less.
Hrm, I guess I could agree to that so long as hes paying. What about the other condition?
That ones a lot more imdiate. Ysee, weve been sort of watching you deal with that freaky weather situation for a while, and hed rather you not wipe out that city just on a whim.
Huh?! Why not!? complained the Mimic. Hes the God of Death, not the God of Life, so why does he care?!
Because youre about to pointlessly bloat his workload. Hes still sour at for that Monotal thing and Id rather not hear him bitch at about Dragunov, too. So do a solid and help get this bony bastard off my back, will ya?! If you do, Ill let you know where your precious Fizzy is!
Fine. Ill leave the snacks-on-legs alone.
Yes! See, I told you my Hero could be reasoned with!
Howards voice suddenly grew oddly distant, almost as if he were in another room.
Ah, you heard that? Well, it is technically true. Are you or are you not a fatherless cur who is comprised entirely of bones?
It would appear he was speaking to Mortir, who was presumably right next to him.
Thats what I thought, bony bastard, grumbled the Goddess of Instabilities as she turned her attention back to Boxxy. So anyway, thanks for that. Mortir says hell get in touch with you through this line when he has the deets on your first job, but it wont be for a while.
What about Fizzy?
You square things out with Morty, and Ill tell you where your shiny is. Dont worry, shes very much alive, just as you, uh, deduced. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say hoped, wouldnt it?
I have no idea what youre talking about.
Sure, you dont. Well, good luck out there. And keep up the good work. Toodles!
*Click*
The Sandman-shaped Mimic sat down on the bloodied ice, letting out a sigh of relief. Hearing that Fizzy was rely missing and not actually dead had taken a trendous load off its back. Now that it could think clearly again, it regretted for lashing out at those dwarves earlier. Not much though. The blunder in question was only at the level of a whoopsie daisy, really. The important thing to take away from the past few minutes was that it seed like it would be so ti before it was reunited with its shiniest of shinies.
The Mimic decided that it would be far better to do sothing productive rather than sit around moping while it waited for Mortir to get in touch. And nothing said productive like gaining Levels, obtaining shinies, and securing a foothold in a foreign nation. It could accomplish all these things not only at the sa ti, but also at the sa place, which just so happened to be conveniently nearby.
It was ti to see just how hardcore this Palace of the Crystal Maiden truly was.
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