120 (II) Offer [II]
“That fate that which they experience is what it means to be a caricature, to be so utterly swallowed by what you do, by what you experience, that you cease to be who you are. That is not dominance. That is not mantling yourself above strife. And there is a reason why you are here, and there is a reason why I rule, and there is a reason why the orcs thrive and flourish in any dimension, in all worlds across the Integration. Because we are the ones that seek to rule over strife, that seek excellence in conflict, and the most exotic flavors in our cruelty. But bloodshed and battle cannot lead us like dogs on a leash. Not the finest of us. Not if we wish to truly be the ultimate practitioners. That requires thought, Shiv. Think. The mind and the body must be of an alloy.”
And immediately Shiv thought back to the adamantine-armored orc. “There are some orcs that might need this speech from you.”
"Indeed," the Challenger said, not offended at all. "But not the finest of us. It is an addiction that assails many of my kind. I must compliment you there. You saw, you exploited, and you finished the fight. The same could not be said for him, and now he will have to live with the shame of being so casually bested, of thinking himself an equal to you when he failed to even master his own mind."
"So what's the point of this speech?" Shiv asked. There was less heat in his voice now. "Some kind of pep talk about self-discipline or self-awareness?"
"It is not a pep talk, it is not a speech, it is not any of those things. It is simply a statement that we should always be more, so that we can best grasp our desires and reach the highest peaks of legend. Sometimes the finest thing you can do for your own cultivation of violence is to simply be peaceful, to observe, and to exist among your adversaries. Some monotony is good for the mind; it is balancing."
Shiv simply grunted. Despite his reluctance, he contemplated the Challenger’s words and suspected there was more than a little merit to them.
Philosophy 6 > 7
“Tell me about your offer. I'm here. I'm willing to listen, but I'm not going to make any promises.”
"As it should be," the Challenger declared. "Nothing is promised in this world. Nothing, unless you can take it or you can force it. In all of Integration, bloodshed and change remain the only constants. Bloodshed, change, and us. You have done a wise thing, accepting this dialogue. You will find few warriors as fine as an orc, but also few harder to manage. If you cannot command an orc's fascination and rule them through your tyranny, your strength, then they will indulge in their own desires. And you must also avoid their daggers in the dark, their teeth when the night falls. I do not promise a tamed army, nor do I promise obedient dogs. I give you killers, killers to the bone, and they will turn on you the moment they can, if you allow them to."
Shiv couldn't help but laugh at that. "If this is your pitch, it's a pretty shit one."
"It is honesty, and it is not a pitch. You can refuse me,"
the Challenger said. "I will bear no offense if you do, for there is none to bear. In better circumstances, and for most people, they would choose a human army, an automata army, an elven army, an army of beings that are alike to you in cognition and behavior. Perhaps even a Fae army, despite their whims and unpredictability. The only ones people fear and worry more than us are those who have touched your Psychomancer.”"But you think I'm different," Shiv said. “That I can manage an orc army? Is that your sales pitch? ‘It’s hard as hell, but you can do it, Shiv? If you’re not a pussy’?”
“I don't think you're different due to your nature. You are different because you stand here, speaking to me, where so many of your kind would gawk and reel in horror. Look at you. Already, you don't notice the smell. Already, you've accepted that this place is one of death. And now you speak to me, you ignore my rules, and you demand that I tell you what I have.”
Rather than responding, Shiv just nodded at the sky.
“Gods would smite mortals for doing such a thing, but you don't care, do you? In fact, if I did smite you, you might feel some satisfaction from provoking me, and you would look forward to returning somehow, to sapping vitality from this world and ripping it asunder with your Unique Skill… However it works. And that makes you a perfect ruler for some of my orcs—because you can give them a reason to fear, and a thrill above all others.”
“Yeah? And what kind of thrill is that?”
“True death. As true a death as an orc can experience, anyway.”
"What are you talking about?" Shiv asked.
"Calm down, Bruiser. Think. Think. I've been telling you to think for a reason."
Shiv wanted to spit some other acerbic remark at the Challenger, but he thought instead. He considered why the Challenger said what he'd just said, and he considered his Vitaemancy as well. He'd reached into Can Hu. He'd filled in the parts that were absent. He'd managed to change a skill from its broken state to merely being damaged.
And then he considered how his Vitae detonated when he speared it through the basilisk. Once more, Shiv summoned a swirl of Vitae upon his palm and stared at it. Within that mess of flowing red and white currents was his Unique Magical Skill. A Magical Skill that allowed him unfettered access to another's soul and vitality, but also let him grasp their bodies as well. Right? Unfettered access.... If I focused on someone's soul, could I just… rip it apart? Could I damage someone's skills? Or ruin their very existence?
Then he considered how he simply drank things out of existence. Trees. Animals. They faded into the Vitae like they never existed at all. Combining that with how his Outside Context Problem worked, Shiv realized what the Challenger was trying to say.
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"I am capable of more than just killing an orc," Shiv said. "You mean I can truly break them? Destroy their souls?"
"You very well might be," the Challenger said. "But that will not stop an orc from being what they are. You may teach them fear, but fear will not stop them. Their instincts run too deep. They will seek cruelty unless they can master themselves, unless they can practice that protracted monotony of peace. And some will learn if you do deliver true deaths upon them. Some will learn to wait. To watch. To obey. Or perhaps it will all devolve into chaos, and you will fail. But before the end, whatever end, I am certain you will discover just how much harm you can cause with that new Magical Skill of yours."
"You have no problem with this?" Shiv asked. "No problem with me ripping one of your… kids asunder? Killing them for good?”
"Why should I? If you are capable of it and they cannot stop you, then why should it be otherwise? Orcs reincarnate to retain their knowledge, to make it so that they can rise faster every time they return. But you can be a unique experience. A novel Warlord to fight under. Not of our kind, but close enough. And the only one that can inflict a lasting, grave consequence. Oh, the thrill. Oh, the reward. Oh, the uniqueness of experience. And the fact that you are System-favored among favored… I can see orcs joining you just for the pleasure of tasting that favor as well.”
And for the first time, the clouds parted to reveal an immense shape looming above. The Challenger was just as Shiv remembered him to be. Colossal of form, with scars that hid mass graves along their river-like lengths, and brilliant, shining eyes that were bewitching to look upon. The colossal orc sent down his declaration then, his tone changing from that of a lecturing mentor to one of an imperious god. "Heed me now, Pathbearer Shiv. I give unto you this offering, a means to build an army like no other. But in return, I want access. I want a gateway."
"Gateway," Shiv asked. "What gateway?"
"The one currently connected to Vulketh. The one that you previously thought was going to be joined to Weave. I wish for it to be bound to this realm, that broken little world that thought it could contain us. This place will serve as motivation or understanding. For if you fail to control my orcs, this is what will become of your world. Another dumping ground of bloodshed and ruin, soon to be fed into my Tutorial. A place at the beginning of all things. A restart. A place for orcs to learn new skills, new understandings. Share these understandings with the brethren, or kill the brethren, to take from them their pride, their lives, and to leave them constrained within the Tutorial. It is an academy. A slaughterhouse. It is a nightmarish paradise. And it will be the place from which I deliver upon you my orcs. And furthermore, you will not simply receive an army so easily."
"I'm already going to have to shepherd all your little monsters. What do you mean by ‘not so easily’?”
The Challenger chuckled. "My orcs are spread out across many worlds, a small contingent of which are preparing to invade Lone Star once more for the coming summer. But this summer, perhaps things will be a little different. This summer, I have given a recommendation to a certain Maestro of mine, and he has his eyes on you as well. This summer, perhaps instead of trying to break those battle-hardened artillerists, snipers, trench gunners, the Lone Star Orchestra can be diverted to the defense—or the counter-offensive—of Blackedge. But you need to convince them. You need to gain their appreciation. And to do that, all you need to do is one thing."
"What's that?" Shiv asked.
"Kill. Break. Bleed. Dominate your enemies. Drive them back. Kill their champions. For every Adept you slaughter, I think you may gain the appreciation of an Adept-Tier orc. For every Master you rip apart, a Master-Tier orc may wish to test their blade against you as well, but before that, they will offer it in service. And should you kill another Hero, or better yet, bring down a Legend, you will gain a corresponding amount of orcs at such Tiers as well."
"So, kill to recruit," Shiv said. He considered the offer, and it was simple. Simple, but also poisonous. Poisonous, but also potent. Vicar Sullain had an orc serving in his forces. Shiv had killed that orc, but it took a little bit of cunning and quite a bit of force. If he could get more than a few orcs like that, then maybe, just maybe, he could make a fight of this. As for the Gateway part, he would need to see if it could be set up in a way that only allowed one-way access to its activation or something.
As with everything, though, there were costs, and there were risks. Shiv thought of everything the orcs could provide, and of his own capabilities. He was definitely going to need Uva's help—everyone's help, to keep these orcs under control. But most importantly, he needed to keep their eyes on him. He needed to be the one they wanted to test their mettle against, not anyone else. And he needed to make it clear that if the orcs harmed anyone else, he would kill them for good. He would find a way to break their very souls rather than just slaying them normally.
It might be able to work,
Shiv thought to himself. Maybe that can just be the incentive. They get to try again, like 811 did, like the newest adamantine orc did, instead of dying for good. Shiv couldn't believe it. He was actually considering this seriously, considering accepting the Challenger's offer. But not yet."I'll tell you what," Shiv said, holding his head high. "I'll get back to you on this. I've got a few other people to consult with, and a few things to figure out."
"Of course," the Challenger said. "It would be remiss of me to give you that speech on patience, and then try to force you into an early and hasty agreement. Furthermore, if you are so desperate, I fear my orcs will not be so interested in you, and my Warlord would look upon you as spineless, no fun."
"Well, I'm glad to please," Shiv scoffed. "So, we're basically done here, huh? Your offer is that we need to connect our gateway to your Tutorial so that you can funnel in what should be attacking Lone Star this summer, and that for every Initiate or Adept or Master or Hero or Legend I kill, an orc of the equivalent Tier will join in."
"That is the expectation you can hold, and that is the ritual I will propose between us when you return to me with the confirmation of your desires."
New Ritual: Bloodrites of the Vaketh-Insul - Slay enemies of an appropriate quantity and Tier to gain an equivalent in orc recruits from the Lone Star Orchestra.
“Vaketh-Insul?” Shiv asked.
“Nemesis-Commander.”
Shiv gritted his teeth and nodded. "Fine, I got it. Now, send me back."
"Oh, but not yet," the Challenger said. "Before you return, a gesture of goodwill and a sampling of the true dish."
"What are you talking about?" Shiv asked, worry creeping into his voice.
"I'm talking about you getting used to leading a few orcs. This will either convince you of your choice or persuade you against accepting my offer, but it will be amusing to watch all the same. They will return with you once I send you back to your gate. Be sure not to kill them, or do. Attack, and they will fight back, but they will not hold it against you, and neither will I. After all, what are guarantees? What are promises?"
Shiv's eyes widened. "Wait, how many—”
And as Shiv blinked out of existence once more, the Challenger laughed, smiling down at the landscape of ruin from which his children hatched anew “Do remember to have fun, Bruiser. Kill them. Don’t kill them. I don't care. Just remember to enjoy yourself.”