Time for a plan
-Return to Fellshore, to welcome the beast(s) from the lake to your service.
-Order your Cultists to abandon fishing and stay from the lake for some time. If the thing wants to eat your cultists it should deserve it first
-Create few ultraviolet imps to oversee operations in Nuulyd. One should be permanently attached to spying on the mayor
-Order Duke to fund construction of new copper ore mine that will serve as a work camp for criminals(being too poor to pay taxes is a serious crime) and war prisoners. Actual abundance of ore is less important than mine being located close to Nuulyd or Fellshore
-Speaking of war prisoners, inform the duke that constant peace in the province... bothers you. You are sure that he has a rival or too among his vassals and finding an excuse to revoke his\their titles and declare war on them is something he should do. Strong rulers eliminate their enemies with an iron hand. You are sure that his own forces are good enough to deal with any vassal and he should leave cultists alone, expect Malkus, Knights and Mercenaries that are expected to participate in the war on his side.
Wars are evil. Wars give energy. Wars create despair and willingness to join the new way. Wars give our champions an opportunity to shine. Wars make the Duke mightier
Desired demonwolf properties:
Female
One soul, many bodies: Can range from mother having a telepathic link with her future litters, to being many wolves with one soul
Necromancy :Can range from a minor ability to interact with undead to ability to create undead armies with minor effort
Burning Eyes: Can Range from eyes being little more bright than ones of ordinary brute wolf to ability to sends rays of fire coming from the eyeballs
Horns: Cosmetic feature
Pyromancy?: Smoke/fire manipulation
A storm gathers over Fellshore. Waves as tall as men rage against the beach of the usually tranquil lake, and lashing rain ensures that even those not near the shore are completely drenched. Cultists struggle to keep torches lit, the smokewraiths have retreated deep into the labyrinth, and even you feel somewhat uncomfortable in such a sodden environment. The fishermen's boats have all been dragged up the beach, and no one is allowed to stand anywhere near the lake. A small band plays a series of stringed instruments as poorly as they can, the discordant wailing barely audible above the sound of the wind.
You stand by the shore, water pouring off of your cloak, and raise your arms, summoning the beast(s) from the deep. A haunting moan emanates from the lake- or is it just the howling of the wind? Dark shapes writhe below the surface- or is it just debris swept up by the waves? A sense of primordial evil washes over the village, a
wrongness that causes cultists to grind their teeth and claw at their faces. Then a cultist disobeys your orders not to approach the lake, and starts walking down to the beach. You command them to turn back, but they do not- or can not- hear you. A massive wave crashes into them, but they keep walking, until they stand up to their waist in water. Then they disappear, wrenched beneath the waves by some unseen force, too quickly for them to even cry out. Soon more cultists start walking towards their doom, blank stares upon their faces. One by one they disappear, as you watch more curious than upset by the sight of your followers being consumed by the beasts below.
After a few minutes of this, you tire of this display, and command the creature to reveal itself. You detect a sense of hesitation- something weighing you up, judging you. After a few moments, the feeling of indecision passes, and a great cry arises from the lake. "WRWGLN", you hear an eldritch voice say, and then more voices join in, "WRWGLN, SDILKCH NOKLUVGN". This is followed by a great churning of water, a massive upswell, as a shapeless form rises up. Eventually the thing breaches the surface, and a dozen giant tentacles tower over you, before crashing down on the lake shore, twisting around trees and buildings, tightening, and pulling. Some trees are ripped out of the ground, some houses collapse, but enough hold, and the central form of the massive creature comes into view- in a sense. For the
thing does not obey conventional rules of shape, appearing from some angles to be a massive black sphere of tar, whilst from other angles it is not there at all, the many tentacles just... folding away into nothing. From other angles you can see scales, or fur, or chitin, or maybe even feathers? From yet further angles the thing is made up of naught but mouths, filled with row upon row of razor sharp teeth, or perhaps it is one giant eyeball, a trio of pupils staring in seven different directions at once- of which only four exist within conventional dimensions. The thing changes appearance with the slightest twitch of the head, but you never get the sense that it is changing shape, only that your perception of it is changing.
You can only imagine what the beast must resemble to mortal eyes, if it causes even your demonic vision such trouble.
You are admiring the beast, whose power is undeniable, when the lake begins to churn again, and more tentacles appear. A second beast, similar to the first, arises, soon followed by a third. When a fourth patch of lake begins to swell up, you start getting slightly concerned. A single one of these creatures would pose no threat to you, two might cause you some trouble, and you would be hard-pressed to beat off a third. If there are even more of them, you may struggle to keep them in line.
You are considering this conundrum when you spot a spectre rocket out of the lake, spin around, and make a beeline towards you. You are too distracted by the lake-beasts to stop it from reciting:
Ancient, forgotten beasts of old
Still slumber in that frigid deep
Their days no more, their tales untold
No longer make they mortals weep
But now their time is here again
They yearn to rise above the waves
For Demon's call now summons them
To drag the living to their graves
Yes, very good. You know, you can see them. But the spectre continues;
Yet others dwell within the lake
A being even Demons fear
So you be good for goodness sake
The other force will soon be here
A puzzled frown crosses your face. The spectre takes one look back at the lake, and speeds off into the woods. You watch it go, then turn back to watch the tentacles of the fourth beast arise from the lake- just in time to see a beam of pure white light shoot out from beneath the waves, just missing the patch of churning water. The other three creatures turn to face (assuming the creatures can face anything) the beam, and cry out "GLVLGDNG", as a second beam of light erupts from the water, this one on target, passing straight between the tentacles. A great cry of pain rings out, and the fourth creature's tentacles collapse, falling back down into the lake, which begins to stain a dark purple. The three surviving creatures waste no time in fleeing, hauling themselves onto the shore, crushing trees, houses, and cultists in their rush to escape.
A new
thing emerges from the lake. She looks like someone took a book of geometrical solids, threw out all the ones with curves, and glued the rest together into a mess that is at once chaotic and strangely symmetrical. Her every surface shimmers like polished pearl, whilst an impossibly bright light seems to leak out from the cracks between them. She holds a massive spear in her left(?) hand(?), which she wastes no time in aiming directly at you.
You watch as light gathers around the tip of the spear, becoming brighter and brighter until the storm-darkened evening is as midday in the desert, whereupon she jabs the spear in your direction. You effortlessly dodge the bolt of light, and retaliate with a blast of your own. She manages to avoid the worst of it, but from the tarnish spreading across her formerly immaculate surface you can tell she has been injured. You fire off another blast, but she dodges this one more easily, diving beneath the waves again, before emerging far in the distance. With a last jab of her spear, which you easily avoid, she flies off across the lake, towards the west. You
-Chase after her! Forget everything else!
-Let her go. You have other matters to attend to, after all.
Heh heh heh.
Heh heh heh heh heh.
Oh, also, you may give a new name to the lake-beasts. They had names, obviously, but those are long forgotten, given to them by their former master. It would be appropriate for you to give them a new name, to signify that they now serve you.
(BTW, you don't need to give new instructions for what to do next update, other than how to deal with the current crisis. The stuff you planned for this update will happen, unless you have some desperate need to change things)
Name: Nokluvgn
Age: 7.99 months (0)
Physical might: 52 (+3 p/w: province-wide suffering)
Mental might: 48 (+3 p/w: province-wide suffering)
Followers:236 (147 cultists, 8 cultists (armed), 29 trained cultists (armed), 40 mercenaries (armed), 6 Wordbearers, 7 knights (heavily armed), 1 Duke)
Slaves: 12 (4 priests, 1 high priest, 7 guards (armed))
Servants: 55 (8 Brutewolves, 3 Smokewraiths, 15 spectres, 3 giant-rat-packs, 10 black imps, 8 skeletons, 4 Hollow Remnants, 3 fungal druids, 6 zombies, 3 lake-beasts?)
Cults:
The New Way: Low organization. 186 members (97 cultists, 8 cultists (armed), 29 Nails (armed), 40 mercenaries (armed), 6 Wordbearers, 5 knights (heavily armed), 1 Duke)
Slaves: 12 (4 priests, 1 high priest, 7 guards (armed))
Power level: 26 (18 used)
Of which: 4 spent improving the labyrinth in Fellshore, 3 spent recruiting in Nuulyd (sneaky-like), 3 spent recruiting & replacing in Brylib, 6 spent training cultists (18/32), 2 spent training cultists (magic, 6/10).
Secrecy estimate: Somewhat at risk in Oegorda (you think), but fine everywhere else.
Resources: 1143 (+40 p/week: Duke's income)(-7p/w: building labyrinth)(-10: Mischa's experiments)
Locations: Fellshore: Fortress
Nuulyd: Merchant & town council & jail connections.
Castle Brylib: Court connections+.
Oegorda: Nokluvgn may have been detected here.
Fözdoch Province (misc): No special features.
Other: N/A
Champions:
Mischa Alwiz: The Duke's 'loyal' companion, now corrupted by the allure of evil.
Physical Might: 1
Mental Might: 7
Knowledge: Magic, adequate Necromancy.
Possessions: Grey imp (knowledge of human & demonic magic, disguised as a crow)
Other: N/A
Malkus Rom: The captain of the mercenaries in the Duke's employ, he proved an especially eager convert, requiring only the most minor of rewards before pledging his loyalty to you.
Physical Might: 9 (+2: Devil-horse)
Mental Might: 2
Knowledge: Competent Tactics.
Possessions: Devil-horse (A huge black horse with demonic strength and intellect; +2 physical strength, greatly increased mobility)
Other: N/A
"Kate": A female Wordbearer, trained in combat and provided with arms and armour, now the vessel for your demonic offspring.
Physical Might: 6
Mental Might: 4
Knowledge: Adequate Mesmerism, basic Magic.
Other: 1.5/9(?) months pregnant. N/A
Demon-Brutewolf offspring: 0.25/2.5(?) months to birth
Physical Might: ?
Mental Might: ?
Fortresses:
Fellshore: A small fishing village nestled between a small lake and a forest (with mountains not so far in the distance), now undermined with many tunnels and chambers forming a twisted maze, lit with smoky torches, where the shadows form strange shapes in the corner of your eyes.
Smallish labyrinth (10, increases secrecy)(being upgraded to Medium Labyrinth 42/200), Crude wall (construction halted. Defence value of 5. 32/100)
Hidden altar: A suitable place to sacrifice to you and praise your dark name. Recently upgraded to a nicer version. Mostly a cosmetic upgrade, though.