Real Waifu Catalog: Warcraft Beta Tester

Chapter 43: The Old Man Knows Things



5/2 Evening

I returned to Abercrombie to find him right where I left him, as he should be. I noticed that the wrinkles in his face were fading, and his hair was getting some brown mixed in with the white. I'd be making some changes, but it was nice to see a visual indicator of his capture proceeding right along.

I brought out some stale bread and cheese for him to eat for lunch, which he took and ate mechanically. Experimentally, I decided to let him loose. Between two bindings I thought it would be safe enough to do so.

"Alright. It's time that you be useful to me. I need information and I think you have it. If you can make my life easier, it'll mean a happier life for you long term."

"You would dare-" he doubled over in his chair, tensing up substantially. My best guess was that his conscious mind hadn't really been expecting the new dynamic. I'd been relatively subtle, or at least given the necklaces a lot of time to work on their own, with all the others so far. After a few moments, the old man straightened up a bit and spoke with a resigned tone. "What information do you seek?"

"Let's start with something easy. Who is Morbent Fel?"

"A rather powerful necromancer in league with the Burning Legion. We have agreed to ignore one another so long as we don't intrude."

"Burning legion? Huh. I would have expected at least some members of the Cult of the Damned to be here. Oh well, I need him dead or driven out of Duskwood. Getting him to wear a certain kind of jewelry would also work. How should we target him?"

He looked down at the necklace and realization seemed to dawn on him, but he sighed and answered, "He's intelligent, paranoid, and stronger than I am by far. He leaves me alone because he doesn't want to expend resources on me. He can also redirect any harm from himself to his undead slaves. You'd need to wipe out his army before you had a chance of killing him, but the moment you started killing enough to be a problem, he'd start targeting you in turn."

"Unfortunate. I might end up needing to put him on the back burner. Any chance we could rid him of his army slowly? Or cut off the connection?"

"He raises a dozen of them per day, fewer if he finds someone of note. It's a big graveyard. He has plenty to work with, and he sends his smarter servants out to grave rob elsewhere."

"His end game?"

"How the hell-" wince, a bit of wheezing, "I don't know. It wasn't relevant to me."

"Fair enough. You should apologize when you fail me, though. In the future. Next, there is a man by the name of Morgan Ladimore. Do you know of him?"

"He is long dead, yet walking. Calls himself Mor'Ladim now. He speaks to my Eliza sometimes, in her grave."

"Why is he undead? Fel?"

That actually got a laugh. "Fel wishes he could make a thing of beauty like Mor'Ladim. No. Ladimore is not so different from me. Merely less effective. He was a Paladin, who went to fight the Scourge. When he returned he was a changed man. Hollow. Sought to find his wife and children, and found them dead. When he found his wife's grave, he went mad and started swinging his sword. I believe he killed three men that day, to no effect, before killing himself in despair. Terrible. What did he intend to accomplish like that?"

"Very good Abercrombie. You've pleased me. That was a full and complete answer, and a good starting point." He lit up at that, pleased to have served well. After a moment his face twisted into a grimace. I could practically hear the disgust at his own emotional reaction. Makes sense he would be resistant; I was basically turning half of his personality on its head. "Do you know of any process that would lay his soul to rest?"

"His family is dead and he turned his back on the light. Without addressing the reasons for his pain, he is simply doomed until some well meaning rube consecrates his bones."

"And if his family wasn't dead? Did he have any nieces and nephews for example?" I checked the reward; Watcher Ladimore was being offered for instant capture; she was a cute girl with reddish brown hair. Early twenties. I could definitely see why they had included her, but that was really sloppy on The Company's part; that gave the game away now that I knew the story.

"I suppose someone with the right connection might be able to forgive him. Paladins are sappy like that. Otherwise gallons of holy water and an hour of effort from a bishop should do it. Why, though? Did you come here to destroy all of us?"

I thought about it. "Kind of. You were the first on my radar." That provoked an incredulous face, which I didn't blame him for. The secret hermit necromancer was targeted before the guy building an army or the immortal revenant that kills indiscriminately. "I'll explain it to you sometime. Don't worry, you will serve me but I'm not a sadist. Once you get in line, both you and Eliza will be much happier than you were when I got here." He looked at me warily, but didn't try to talk back. The conditioning was starting to settle in on his orb-softened brain.

"Anyway. You will of course have to disassemble stitches. You should have never started him." He managed to stand up, but in the middle of his first "how dare you" he collapsed onto the floor, writhing in pain. The anger vanished in the same moment the pain started, so he wasn't on the ground long. He took a minute to recover, then tried a different tack. "He is my masterpiece. Why would you destroy him before he is even complete?"

"Hmm. Well, I suppose there's one use I can think of for him. He might be used to make a hole in Fel's army when I'm ready." That was more acceptable to him. "What do you need to complete him? If you need more corpses, this will be a non-starter."

"How about undead? I do not need living flesh for my work."

"Alright. Deal. Within reason, of course."

"I need enlarged ribs, such as from ghouls. Zombie juice or another sufficiently strong alcohol solution infused with necromantic energy. A spool of ghost hair, as you might remember." He winced slightly at that jab, but smirked after. He seemed to think it was worth it.

"I'll get to it when I get to it. One last thing. I wish to place a necklace around the neck of an invisible and intangible spirit. Do you know of any way to do it?"

"A very sensible question to ask." His tone was deadpan, and he seemed to twitch slightly as he said it. That was sarcasm again, but understated. I'd allow it, a bit of snark from a servant adds spice. "Does the necklace have to actually make contact, or is it enough that it stays around the neck?"

"I'm not actually certain. What are my options for each? Teach me about ghosts, oh master." If he was going to be sarcastic, so was I.

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, then started. "If it needs to make contact directly, it'll need to be made of something that can touch ghosts. Had you done as asked, you would already have one such thing."

"Oh, ghost hair again?"

"Indeed. If this magic is less picky about such things, you could also have it possess someone and have that individual wear the amulet. I'm not sure if that would work though, it might simply result in you wasting your spell on someone weak-willed enough to be dominated by a spirit already willing to cooperate with you."

"What do you mean by weak willed?"

"Someone foolish, fearful, naive, mad, or compromised by drink. Lacking discipline or emotional balance. Of course, weak spirits can only overtake particularly weak individuals."

"Good to know. I'll start with making a ghost hair necklace I guess."

"Do you need to hear the directions again?" Twitch.

"No, I think I'm fine. Madame Eva, right? Anyway, give me all of your money. I'll see to your needs in the future, so you don't need it."

"I'm not going to do that."

"Yes, you will. Because you want me to help you finish Stitches. I'm not doing it on my own coin. So hand it over. You don't have much negotiating power here."

It took a bit more grumbling, but in the end he relented. After all, I was right. He couldn't stop me from doing whatever I wanted. At best, he could delay it by a day or two. He grudgingly went into his basement and brought out a bag containing a few hundred silver pieces.

"Aww, for me, how sweet."

"Do be careful. If someone were to swing it around, it could give you a concussion."

"Oh I will be. Now then, look at the pretty orb." He did so instinctively, and was almost instantly conked out. "Now, do you remember how happy you were when I told you you did well?" He nodded. "Whenever you think of a way you could help me, I want you to remember that moment. You're always happiest when thinking of how you can help me or Eliza, right?"

"Help Eliza? I'd do anything." 

"I'll be taking care of her soon too. So helping me helps her. You should feel just as happy doing something for me, because you're really doing it for her."

"For her?"

"Yes. Exactly. For her. So how do you feel when you're helping her by helping me?"

"I feel good. Proud."

"Very good. In fact, you feel happy for the opportunity to help me. It's ok to be sarcastic, but you're really very happy whenever you see me."

"Am I?" Even in a trance, he turned it into a rhetorical question.

"Yes. You're very happy to see me. When you are sarcastic, it's fun. Playful. Sassy."

"Sassy? Me?"

"Yes. Don't worry. You'll grow into the word. Now repeat after me. I am happy when I see my master, Erich. I am sarcastic and cutting with him because it amuses us both. I want to be a good servant to him, because that will help Eliza."

"I am happy to see Erich. I am sarcastic and cutting because it amuses us both. I want to be helpful to him, to help Eliza."

"Not quite right, Abercrombie. Do it again. Right this time."

"I am happy to see," he paused at this point and thought about it, "my master Erich. I am sarcastic and cutting because it amuses us both. I want to be a helpful servant to him, to help Eliza."

"That's very good. Again." We did a few more repetitions before I was confident in the new mantra, then I had Abercrombie stay in the basement with the orb, just in case. Just from the smell I knew I didn't want to go down there. He'd be fine.

I checked my map, saw Keryn and Darcell still together near Goldshire, and decided to make an appearance. I could go back to the house later. "Why hello ladies. I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"


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