For the Record

He accepted it.

I didn't think he’d just accept it.

Huh.

The party gasps almost in unison as the remains of his body shrivel, burst into a bright orange flame, and scatter into an airborne swirl of ash harboring two smoldering points of light.

And somehow, I remember exactly what I need to do now. My servant lacks a form.

I need only give him one.

I lash out a feeler, snatching his greatsword from the wall where it was abandoned, and launch it blade first into the center of the spinning vortex.

BEHOLD, YOUR TRUE FORM. USE IT, BECOME IT, AND DEMONSTRATE YOUR MASTER’S MIGHT.

The flying blade stops in Omorth’s center as though retained by gravity, and begins slowly revolving as his loose ash is drawn toward it, leaving exposed in the shining metal a cascade of runes that speak of a legend of a sword.

A sword that curses all who wield it with death.

A sword called ‘Tyrfing’.

Before I have a chance to finish reading the inscriptions, the downward-pointing blade drops, wedging its tip into the reinforced floorboards. Ash releases from it as the blade itself narrows to six inches wide, the runes tightening around it like a girdle. The party looks on in disbelief as the ash swarms furiously and forms into a suit of heavy armor behind the blade, resting its hands on the hilt. Through the open visor, those same two smoldering points of light flare.

And then it rips the blade free and kneels. “My queen.”

Uh.

“Yeah, don’t call me that.”

Meanwhile, Izahne is scrambling to join him.

The large... eldra? Former eldra? The large thing looks confused for a moment before asking, “Then how would you have me refer to my master?”

“That’s about as bad. Just uhhh. Just call me Nemesis.”

“As you wish,” he replies with a rumble, smoke lightly venting from the gaps in his new body.

I guess I have two now. Huh. Although...

Izahne manages to join Omorth in kneeling, much to my chagrin, but I definitely can’t sense him nearly as well as I can Izahne, and I already know why.

And so I use Blood Pact, and he immediately accepts it.

Great, so let’s take a look at that Status!

[Status]

[Name: Omorth Erune]

[Race: Tyrfing]

[SYSTEM: TYPE B – Level 32 – XP 4500/33000]

[Inherent Skills:]

[Absorb 0]

[False Body 0]

[Class: Mirror of Avarice – Level 0 – XP 0/1000]

[Class Skills: None]

[General Skills:]

[Dimensional Storage 8]

[Identify 12]

[Stealth 2]

[Swordsmanship 22]

[Language]

[Interplanar Common]

[Eldra Indigenous]

[Shadowborne]

[Traits:]

[Blessed of Envy]

[Blessed of Hunger]

[Blessed of Night]

[Mana Thirst]

[Titles:]

[Agent of Nemesis]

[Foe of Justice]

[Queen’s Shield]

[Right Hand of the Queen]

Fascinating. How about Identify, anything useful?

[Tyrfing – Omorth Erune (Shielder) – Level 0]

I see.

Anyway, I’m getting tired of these two kneeling like I'm some kind of gah –

Oh.

Well, they can stop it anyway!

“Both of you stand up and stop being dumb. I get it, I’m your patron god now or whatever, I don’t care, I didn’t care before but I especially don’t care now. Just act like you did before, alright?” I say.

The two look at each other for a moment while Abaris and Pearl peer over the backs of their seats, seemingly unsure of what to do or how to react.

They should probably be used to this by now though.

And then I get impatient, so I forcibly lift my two agents with a dozen feelers and suspend them until they get their footing.

Now that I look at them, I realize something else is confusing.

“So. If you’re a sword, how are you a shielder?”

***

It looks like death knight and uhhhh... cursed sword thing? Have traded roles. I’ve already confirmed that Izahne is built for a high damage output and debuffing her targets, and just from blunt observation Omorth appears to be built to take a high damage input.

His body isn’t even real, not really. I give it a push with a feeler, which it resists at first before the feeler passes on through him as though his armor is made of paper.

Abaris looks like he’s desperately resisting the urge to test the hundreds of hypotheses about my sword thing person he’s undoubtedly come up with.

I sigh, and immediately reclaim the ash I lose from it. “Well, go ahead. Experiment away.”

Three entire hours later, the mage is finally done – for now.

He’s excitedly bouncing up and down as though he’s looking forward to telling me the results. Me, specifically for some reason.

Whatever. I flatly gesture for him to speak.

“Yes, yes! Fascinating, a truly fascinating specimen he has become!” he blathers.

I can tell he’s about to start into lengthy and verbose explanation of everything I don’t care about, so I cut to the chase. “Important questions first: undead, yes or no?”

The obounis nods furiously and says, “Unquestionably, there isn’t a drop of life in his metal body.”

“I assume the runes are animating him not unlike those stone guardian things, does that mean if they’re damaged, he’ll die?”

“Not at all!” he chirps. “They appear to be ethereal in nature, both there and not at the same time. It may be related to how his soul itself is bound to the object!”

Good.

“And is he also a death knight?”

“Technically yes and yet not quite,” the mage answers, “He isn’t a paladin variant, but at the same time he is at least paladin adjacent.”

“I’m just going to call that yes’ then.” I hold up a hand to keep him from segueing directly into the rest of his results and take a moment to think.

…

“Alright. I really only have one question left for now.” I glance toward Omorth who looks incredibly uncomfortable standing in my presence. “Why in the hells is his personality so weird now? He keeps looking like he wants to bow and scrape.”

Abaris scrutinizes my animated sword for a moment and then says, “It’s probably related to a title or trait.”

Huh. I skim through his Status again.

“Izahne,” I begin, and notice her back straighten.

I can’t help but sigh.

“Tell me, do you feel those compulsions like he does?”

She nods.

I furrow my brow. “So you’re constantly resisting it then?”

She nods again.

It’s probably something to do with her other titles or whatever. Maybe being my ‘consort’, whatever that is, gives her more flexibility.

…

Eh, not important.

“Write the rest down... or, you already did. Nevermind, just don’t tell me the rest now. Anyway, we obviously all need to have an important discussion.”

“What about?” Pearl asks, finally rising from her seat.

“You can stay sitting,” I reply. “All of you can sit.”

Izahne and Omorth find seats uncomfortably fast, but I guess I’m just going to have to get used to that. I doubt it’s going to change any time soon.

Once everyone is gathered in the sitting area, I look over my party and say, “We need to discuss the present state of party leadership, and our organization. As I understand it, Izahne is the party leader, yes?”

“Yes,” my death knight... or, my first death knight, answers.

I should probably call her something else in my head. Consort, maybe.

Sure, that will work.

“And previously, Izahne was tank, Omorth was melee damage, Abaris was magic support, and Pearl was healer. The two of you haven’t changed,” I say as I gesture to the latter two.

More nods.

I shift in my seat so I can rest my head on one hand with one leg crossed over the other. Why is this position so comfortable? “Anyway, it looks to me like Omorth is a tank now, and Izahne is melee damage. Does that seem correct?”

“Looks like it,” the healer replies.

“I’ll call that settled then, considering I’m sure if I suggest something, my death knights are just going to agree with it anyway, and that’s already a quorum.”

Abaris and Pearl glance nervously at each other, causing me to sigh yet again.

“The second issue,” I begin and gesture with my free hand. “Who is our leader now? To put it simply, I’m not particularly interested, although I want to be able to overrule our decisions.”

I shift in my seat to lean toward the party’s two remaining mortals, resting my head on both hands. “Is that a problem?”

They both furiously shake their heads.

“Good,” I say lightly. “I nominate Abaris for the role of party leadership. Does anyone oppose my decision?”

From the corner of my eyes, I can see both Izahne and Omorth start to raise their hands before I apply pressure to our bonds, causing them to both wince and retract them.

A look of relief shows on Abaris’ face, probably in that the party he’s currently stuck with in what is unquestionably a plane hostile to mortal life hasn’t been overtaken by what is unquestionably a god hostile to mortal life.

Pearl on the other hand just looks terrified.

Whatever.

I lightly stretch and return to my new favorite sitting position. “So then, ‘party leader’. What is our next move?”