The Dark Lord of Crafting

The boy I had seen exiting Bael’s tower had carried a missive bound for Nargul. As soon as Hildar and Keller, the old man, were on their way to confinement, Zareth led me to the aery to stop the letter from being sent. Dargoth was a broad, mostly empty, kingdom, and the Dark Lord used wyverns to deliver messages swiftly across its desolate spans.

Zareth took the lead as we exited the tower and crossed the fortress. Servants bowed, and soldiers saluted as we made our way across the open paths and into the labyrinthine corridors of Kevin’s stronghold. I didn’t bother to keep track of the turns and arches, focusing on our destination. The vizier did not directly address the fact that I was not the same man he had served mere hours before, but he kept up an informative narrative as we went that was clearly for my benefit.

"Our kingdom's finest wyverns are kept for your personal use, my Dark. They are well-trained, clever, and swift. At least one is kept ready to ride at all times."

The aery was a towering cylinder of gray stone high in the mountain, open to the sky. The wyverns perched on rocky ledges, their beady eyes watching us intently. Their scales glimmered softly in the ambient light of the eternal storm, and it was immediately apparent that something was terribly wrong.

Three human bodies were strewn across the aery, their blood spattered like paint, stray limbs dropped at random. Some pieces were recognizable, while others looked like ground beef. The wyverns were ungainly on the ground, with only a tiny pair of back legs to support their weight along with their oversized thumb claws. They were basically pterodactyls, but they had broad, tubular heads, and jaws like sharks, brimming with triangular teeth. Most of them were chained beside water troughs, but one was free, and it shrieked a challenge as soon as we ascended to the aery.

“Get back on the stairs,” I told Zareth, and he didn’t ask questions. While it didn’t make me happy to realize that the kid I’d seen had been torn apart, I assumed the message meant for Agares was somewhere in the mess. It wasn’t hard to guess what had happened, these mobs had been under Bael’s control, and when he died, they’d reverted to instinct.

My sword came out the next instant, accompanied by the ring of xanthium. The free wyvern didn’t waste any time in coming for me. It had more than enough room to spread its wings, getting itself off the ground with a few beats of the massive, membraned limbs. It wasn’t trying to fly, more of a controlled glide that would end with its mouth clamped around my head. I stepped forward under its lunge, jabbing up with my sword, and the blade entered smoothly, ripping it open.

Its momentum carried it over me, and the wyvern slammed into the wall beside the opening to the stair. The wound to its throat and belly was gruesome, blood and organs already spilling out as it rolled to get back on its thumbs. Its eyes, glossy black marbles set on either side of its ghastly maw, locked onto me, and it leaped again.

With a cross stroke, I severed the top half of its jaws, before it could ram into me. My armor kept me from harm, and I was strong enough to push it off. The wyverns seemed massive, but that was mostly their wings. It might have weighed around five hundred pounds, which was a lot in general, but well within my shoving capacity.

I made sure it was dead by driving my blade into what remained of its skull.

“My lord?” The vizier said, his voice trembling, and his face pale.

“I’m fine,” I said, “we just need to get Boja—uh, Orobas. He can fix this.” I considered the vizier for a long moment before telling him where to find the demon. The man was either trustworthy or not, and swearing to me before outing his colleagues suggested he’d picked a side.

Zerath was happy to have a task that got him away from the aery as quickly as possible.

“As you command,” he sketched a bow before rushing down the stairs, leaving me to wipe off my sword on one of the creature's wings.

The remaining mobs eyed me warily, flexing their wings and scraping their claws along the stones where they were chained. Despite their attitudes, I didn’t feel as antagonistic toward these beasts as I would have toward zombies or trolls. They seemed like animals, big and ferocious, but not inherently malevolent. If they were used to carry messengers, they had to be trainable on some level.

The biggest wyvern hissed at me, opening a cavernous maw to reveal multiple rows of triangular teeth as threatening as any Great White shark’s.

“Hey there buddy,” I said. “Chill out.”

It closed its mouth and glared at me.

Bojack arrived a few minutes later with Zareth at his heels, and approached each wyvern in turn, speaking to them in the guttural tongue of the aychar. I had to check if there were any books written in that language that I could absorb because for now he just sounded like a growling hippopotamus.

Previously, when I had seen him take control of mobs, it had required little more than a look or a word. But the wyverns seemed more independent-minded. They hissed at him, gnashed their teeth, and strained against their chains. Still, after a few minutes of literal horse whispering, they had all given in.

“They remember the voice of Bael.” He said, coming to my side. “The taivas are cunning, and I think they sense his blood on you.”

“I thought you took control of all the monsters in the fortress already.” I gestured to the spilled blood and human remains scattered around the aery. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

“We have more handlers,” Zareth said helpfully. “These can be replaced.”

“That’s not the point,” I shot him a glare, though the effect was surely lessened by the fact that my eyes were hidden behind a visor. “We can’t put people in danger like this.”

Zareth gazed at me for a long moment, his expression blank, before inclining his head,

“Apologies, my lord. Of course, I grieve for them, I am merely speaking to expedience. Your errand will not be delayed.”

He didn’t sound like he was grieving, but I supposed a counselor of the Dark Lord of Mount Doom wouldn’t necessarily be the most sympathetic person around. He certainly hadn’t shed any tears over his colleagues. Either that or it had never behooved him to express sympathy before. Kevin and Bael wouldn’t have cared about these people’s lives except in terms of resource management.

“Fine, get us a messenger. I’ll clean this up.”

Zareth looked a tad scandalized at the suggestion that I would do the cleaning, but he rushed off to do what I asked, and I started harvesting. Wyvern skin came up in swathes, followed by meat and bone. I could have harvested the human remains as well, but I stopped myself. Whoever they had been, they deserved a burial.

“I will return to my watch,” Bojack said, seeing that I was occupied.

“You didn’t answer my question.” I tucked the coins I’d collected into my pack. Monster meat had never been useful, but you never knew when a material would come in handy.

Bojack shrugged. “This is the first occasion I have had call to hold so many lesser entities under my sway, it requires immense focus, and these beasts are restive. They will not break from my will again.” He paused as if considering whether to tell me more, then nodded to himself. “They should recognize your authority as well.”

It was the first evidence I’d gotten that there were limits to the extent of a demon’s control over the mobs. I filed the observation away and looked from one side of the aery to the other. There were five more wyverns, a resource as valuable as any tokens in my backpack.

“Your predecessor has been trying to mine the diamonds with his hands,” Bojack said. “There is no sign of progress. Still, we are not in a position to leave him unobserved.”

“I know,” I said. “Go watch him. How long before more demons show up?” He hadn’t given me a clear answer before.

“They are coming,” Bojack’s lips pulled back from his teeth. “do not doubt it. But not all of them will be trustworthy.”

“None of them are trustworthy,” I threw up my arms in exasperation. “Jeez, you’re not trustworthy, we just share mutual interests.”

“That is correct.” Bojack left me to wait for Zareth alone, and I approached the nearest wyvern to see how it would react to my presence. It wheezed at me but lowered its head and presented its neck in what I took to be a gesture of obedience. I patted its nose.

Its menacing appearance didn’t bother me. I’ve always liked monsters in principle, they had just never not been trying to kill me before.

“Do you have a name?” I asked. The creature stilled at my touch, a thin line of drool trailing from between its triangular teeth. The last Purifier achievement I’d gotten had said that monsters would go out of their way to attack me, instantly marking me as an enemy of Discord, but the wyverns seemed pretty chill. That was probably Bojack’s influence at work, but maybe they were just less naturally evil than some of the other mobs.

“You should have a name,” I said. “How about Noivern?”

The wyvern shivered. Noivern was a somewhat obscure Pokemon, and I thought it sounded cool and suitably fantasy-appropriate for a monster like this. I petted its snout, and it didn’t try to bite my hand off, which seemed like a good sign.

Zareth came back within a few minutes, leading a timid-looking young man in a leather outfit that reminded me of a suit for a motorcyclist. He remained a pace behind the vizier, who presented me with a small parchment, its edges adorned with elaborate curlicues that reminded me of kulu tentacles. I took it, skimming the flowing script of the note. My vizier had some top-grade calligraphy skills.

"The Dark Lord commands thee to send the lillits forthwith to Mount Doom,” I read.

"That's it? You think that's enough to get Agares to do what I want?"

Zareth bowed. "The Dark Lord has never been known for his verbosity. You are accustomed to being obeyed."

He was giving me sly lessons. I liked this guy.

“Is that how you use forthwith?”

“It is.”

I shook my head, turning to him. "Ignore the mess," I said, keeping my voice gentle. "They’re under control." That might have been putting too much trust in Bojack, but they’d been using the wyverns to deliver mail since long before my arrival, so presumably, this would work out.

The young man had a sharp intake of breath, his eyes darting nervously between the torso that had once belonged to a person and the wyverns that were watching him from their chains. He looked so pale that he might faint.

It was a horrifying tableau, and it should have bothered me more. Despite my time in prison, it wasn’t like I’d experienced a lot of hyperviolence. People got into fights, got hurt, but they hadn’t been going around disemboweling each other on the yard. Maybe I’d spent too much time dissecting zombies. Maybe there was something more to the taint of Bedlam than altering my eyes. Either way, coming upon the scene in the aery had barely made me blink.

Zareth passed the note to the messenger, who took it in unsteady hands. He shot a look at me as if trying to decide whether he was more afraid of me or the monsters. I didn't blame him for being scared, I blamed myself for not getting the place properly cleaned before summoning a messenger, but he was here now.

"Make sure this gets to Agares," I told him. "Tell him it's urgent."

The messenger swallowed visibly, nodding his head.

"Y-yes, my Lord." He approached one of the other wyverns, careful not to make eye contact, and I was surprised to see him bow before the monster and utter a short phrase in the language of demons. It didn’t sound the same as when Bojack spoke that way, there was no magic behind the words, but the wyvern responded by presenting one of its legs to be unchained.

The messenger produced a key and stepped beneath the wing of the beast to unlock its manacle. Zareth was tense beside me, understandably so, given what he’d seen scant minutes before, but the wyvern didn’t attack. Instead, it bent its head to the ground and allowed the young man to attach a thin harness that had been hanging from the wall beside the entrance. He worked swiftly and had soon mounted. A precarious perch if I’d ever seen one, but the mob took his weight without complaint. He said something else in the demonic tongue, and it flapped its great wings, rising in a circular path until it disappeared over the lip of the silo high above.

Zareth sighed in relief.

“Nothing to worry about,” I said. “Orobas calmed them down.”

“Of course, my lord, it is merely that…I had never seen them so wild before.”

“It wasn’t pretty,” I agreed. One of the wyverns was edging toward a severed hand, its chains preventing it from snapping it up. Feeding them humans would have been a step beyond the pale, but mobs had no problem eating mobs. I reconstituted a slab of wyvern meat and tossed the slick red hunk to Noivern.

Its head jerked, its mouth opening and shutting, swallowing the piece whole.

“Do me a favor, Zareth,” I said. “Get someone to collect these bodies and give them a burial.”

Zareth’s face colored with surprise, and he bowed deeply to cover it.

“Of course, as you wish.” He rustled away.

Noivern had a tremendous appetite. Chunk after chunk disappeared into its maw, and the other wyverns grew agitated as they saw him being fed while they remained unrewarded. After the fourth portion, Noivern gave a birdlike trill, clearly pleased with the situation, and I got a ding.

Journal Quests Notifications Materials Crafting

Though it has taken you far longer to do so than even the most pessimistic estimate would allow, you have unlocked a new skill: Tamer. By feeding and caring for beasts, you can convert otherwise dangerous animals into helpful companions. Not all monsters can be tamed, but you’ll have to discover the ins and outs for yourself. Good luck! A world of potential allies awaits you.

Sure enough, my Skills log had a new line beneath Miner and Artisan. Tamer was at level one, and already showing progress toward advancement. I looked more closely at Noivern and saw that his, I was thinking of him as a “he” now, eyes had lightened a few shades; closer to green than to black.

I switched to feeding the other monsters, going down the line until they’d devoured all the meat coins I had on me. There was no noticeable change in their appearance or further notifications, but I got the sense that they were looking at me differently now. While I’d never gone out of my way to test for a taming mechanic, it wasn’t like I hadn’t fed animals before. The harpies had eaten food from me, and I’d briefly had a horse, but none of that had triggered the skill.

Did it only work on mobs, and then, only certain mobs? Not natural animals. I was going to have to try to find a dog. I had no choice.

It was only after I was out of meat that I realized Zareth had returned to the entrance.

“What do they usually eat?” I asked.

“Offal, primarily,” the vizier said.

“Animal guts? From what? I haven’t seen any cattle around the fortress. Do we have livestock here?”

“Yes, my lord. Would you like to tour the farms?”

While it was an interesting prospect, I wanted to be on my way as soon as possible, preferably on the back of a wyvern.

“How long will it be before we hear back from Nargul?”

“No more than two days,” Zareth’s reply was immediate, “as long as Agares chooses to reply directly. Perhaps even sooner, the wyverns are unmatched on the wing.”

I needed to be able to tell Esmelda that her father was safe, or at least what had happened to him and the rest of her people. Even then, it would also be hard for me to assert that Mount Doom was the best place to bring her and our son. A few preparations, and then I would go. Kevin had farms, what other resources did this fortress have to offer?

I turned to the vizier, who had a bundle of scrolls tucked under his arm. His cheeks were pale, and his gaze still drifted across the remnants of the carnage we had found.

He cleared his throat. “The sexton is on his way to attend to the victims.”

“Good,” I said. It was a bare minimum effort, but at least I could say I hadn’t used the bodies as feed. “Show me some cows.”