A Tyrant, Sort Of

Discussions continued in that vein for a while longer. Sable had a lot to learn about the world, and Roman was the only person who could answer her questions.

Over the following two hours, Sable cultivated a shaky picture of the world at large. The names of the thirteen human kingdoms were hard to memorize, but she learned the ones that mattered: the High Kingdoms, as well as the ones near her. As she’d suspected, the continent was an enormous place, and she shouldn’t have to worry about anything more than Auldstone for at least a short while.

The topic of the ‘Seed of Hunger’ also came up, where Roman stared blankly at her in response. Unsurprisingly, it was another area Sable would have to seek out an expert. Revealing that she’d been touched or somehow influenced by an evil goddess had given Roman another layer of wariness, but Sable had needed to ask someone. At least the infliction, or whatever it was, merely sat there: it was even somewhat easy to ignore. A mild hunger that itched at her. Regardless of its temporary non-urgency, Sable obviously planned to figure out what was going on there as soon as possible.

They also discussed the other races and powers on the continent, but the major ones were the humans, the orcs, and the undead wasteland to the south. Elves, dwarves, beastkin, and so on were middle-grade powers, generally, though of course had their own individuals more than capable of posing a threat to Sable, being in the high forties or possibly even max level, at fifty.

There were tiers of ‘max level’, too, with other sorts of progression becoming prominent once levels didn’t provide an avenue forward, like items, talent with what you already had, and softer powers like political strength or allies. But Roman made it clear that those extreme elites were something she knew very little about. Only other world-shaking powers knew what went on that high up.

Ironically, those threats were so strong Sable didn’t matter to them. Even a set of dragonscale wasn’t worth the effort of hunting her down; they had bigger fish to fry. They also congregated at the High Kingdoms, generally. Unless Sable specifically sought out a level fifty, she wouldn’t ever see one. Still, she had plenty to worry about from weaker, but still plenty strong, foes.

Once Sable thought she had a tentative idea of the situation—though further study and even direct observation would be necessary to truly grok everything—she moved onto trickier subjects.

Namely, her plans for world domination.

That was a dramatic way to put it, but also Sable’s ultimate goal. The one eminent theme in Roman’s description of the various forces was the sheer chaos that pervaded this world. It was fortunate in a way, because it meant Sable had safety through the sheer deluge of other threats and other priorities; Sable’s emergence was fascinating, and would draw attention, but so were other incredible happenings going on throughout the world. It wasn’t just Sable who had her hands full, but rather, just about any powerful force. The human kingdoms especially, warring with each other, the orcs, and the undead, which were all threats of magnitudes greater importance than a single dragon—regardless of her species’s legendary reputation.

Perhaps Sable could alleviate some of the chaos in this world. A good portion of it was man-made. She was a long way off from uniting the human kingdoms, and putting an end to both the endless orc wars to the north, and undead incursions to the south, but in the same way she wanted to use her influence and power in the Red Plains to bring some sort of peace to the goblins, she might eventually be able to squash every power in the world. Extinguish the undead, forge a ceasefire with the orcs. Peace through tyranny and overwhelming strength. It was an appealing concept.

A part of her recognized it was both an insane plan and a ridiculously ambitious one. But she’d been torn through worlds and put into a dragon’s body. Why not aim big?

Regardless, even if she wanted to start small and confine herself to say, a single human kingdom, she needed to play the long game. Having modern-day knowledge, she knew information and influence was as important as direct power. She needed, somehow, a network.

Though how in the world was she supposed to do that? Make herself into a spymaster? Or enlist one? But it needed to happen. Not just for the information they could bring her, perhaps informing her of nascent threats or brewing rebellions, Sable needed to start sowing propaganda. She didn’t need to perform horrible acts to grow her notoriety, she just needed to make everyone think she had. To do that, she needed a network of people who could carry out tasks of subtlety on an enormous scale.

It was a daunting task, even by the standards of her new life. She and Roman talked it over. The obvious easiest way would be liberal usage of [Dominate] and even more versatile coercions and mind control via her enchant specialty. That, of course, came with its own problems, both morally, and by drawing attention from entities like the Children of the Keepers, who sought ought users of such taboo arts.

The alternative was buying loyalty and information, which Sable supposed was more than possible—but she would need a more reliable flow of income.

Finally, she could conquer a human territory and start building a network that way, but Sable didn’t want to touch human lands until she was stronger. For now, she was a shiny target to hunt, and possibly one who would be dealt with proactively by nearby forces. But without actively trying to claim human land for her own, many of the real powerhouses probably wouldn’t turn their eyes toward her.

Her and Roman’s long discussion took one last turn. It was an offer Sable had been considering, though which she doubted Roman would take her up on. Still, broaching the subject seemed smart. Maybe down the line, Roman would accept, once the idea had had time to settle and the benefits became obvious.

“I’ve mentioned this,” Sable said. “But I have a skill called [Dominate]. It links minds to my own.”

“That’s a polite way to put it,” Roman said, sounding amused. The necromancer didn’t seem to be phased by much of what Sable did—neither mentions of potential use of mind control nor her conquering of the Red Plains. She seemed more … open minded than most other people. Less tactfully put, the woman clearly had loose morals. She was a hunted woman for a reason, if Sable had to guess.

“With this link, I’m able to communicate telepathically,” Sable said. “Not just that, but I have a skill called [Dominator’s Blessing]. It lets me grant titles to my minions. They’re fairly powerful, and I suspect successive levels will let me grant stronger ones. Versatile too. I can apply near anything I want.”

Roman hummed appreciatively. “Sounds useful. But what’s your point?”

Sable shifted in place awkwardly. She’d been hoping Roman would pick up the implication. She always seemed to, before. Unfortunately, Sable would have to make the offer explicit.

“If this alliance of ours is intended to last, then perhaps it’s best if you serve me in a direct manner. Perhaps I could grant a title that slows your disease. Or one that makes you stronger in whatever way you desire.” Seeing the quickly growing incredulous expression, Sable rushed to assure her—though without sounding too conciliatory. “I don’t use the coercion aspect of the link. I find it distasteful.”

“Distasteful?”

“What sovereign would I be if I couldn’t control my own minions with regular authority?” She sniffed. “When it comes to my subjects, magically enforced coercion is far beneath me. It implies my might doesn’t stand on its own.”

It was the excuse she’d given Aylin when they’d first met, and it was the best Sable had. Fortunately, she though it was a fairly good one—accepting that a dragon was arrogant enough to not use an ability to its fullest wasn’t a hard swallow.

Wariness crossed Roman’s face, though she didn’t seem incredulous and alarmed, now. “Yeah,” she said. “No, I’m not letting you into my head.”

“I can hardly read your thoughts.”

“But you could control me.”

“Technically, you could break free.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how that works, but the skill says it will alert me if it happens. So it’s not even a permanent, unbreakable link.”

Roman didn’t seem convinced.

“Aylin has a title that lets her learn new skills faster, and gives her twenty-five percent bonus experience,” Sable said. “The guardian of my hoard has doubled stats when defending it. They’re not small bonuses in the slightest. And each level, I can grant stronger ones.”

The necromancer’s eyes widened at hearing the potency of the titles, but it was still clearly not enough. “Still a no,” she said.

Sable shrugged. She hardly needed Roman to join her as a thrall; it just would have simplified things, and made her stronger. “Very well,” she said. “It was for your benefit more than mine.”

Maybe as time passed, Roman would come to terms with it, and eventually accept.

“There’s limited slots, besides,” Sable said. “Anyway, I’ve been here too long. I have tasks to take care of. I want to set our plans into motion soon, though. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day, after I’ve handled the preliminary work, we’ll head for Wastehaven.”

The ‘preliminary work’ was a few errands Sable needed to run in preparation for heading to a proper city. She wanted to visit a smaller town just on the border of the Kingdom of Auldstone to familiarize herself with being around people, as well as buy some essentials: clothes, maps, books, and other supplies. While she was in a rush—her whole life was a rush, a race against her impossible to contain notoriety—it was best if she minimized just how much she stood out when she first arrived to Wastehaven.

And before that, she also had some other goals to take care of. Her efforts in the Red Plains had hardly gone anywhere, and along with that, she wanted to relocate her hoard and set up a more suitable permanent lair. Perhaps in the snowy mountain peaks? Though a few threats of unusual magnitude lurked there; the troll had been level ‘??’ when she’d first seen it, which Sable had learned indicated a greater than 20 level gap—or was applied to aberrant creatures which didn’t exactly have a level, like the Aspects she’d fought. The mountain peaks would make a much more defensible location, though, so it would be worth checking out.

And finally, she still needed to test her new human body. She wanted to know what it was capable of, both in spellcasting terms, and what her drastic reduction to stats meant.

Just how strong was she compared to a normal level ten humanoid?