24
“Do you understand me?” I asked.
“Do not approach. No, no. Stay away. Do not blow me up,” Remex said. His voice came out in rasps. “Please. Do not get closer.”
Confused, I examined the creature’s properties. Despite all of our preparations and Mordecai’s warnings, he was not a boss. Or a lich.
Remex – Soul Leech Capacitor. Level 1.
This is a Bereft Minion of Miss Quill
Have you ever played with a Ouija board and realized that speaking with a lost loved one just wasn’t doing it for you anymore? Perhaps you wanted to kick it up a notch? Maybe bring them back to life? And then maybe make them get a job? A Soul Leech Capacitor can do that for you.
These fragile, but physically strong undead creatures can only be created by a Necromancer or a Dark Cleric. The spell latches onto the most-loved soul of the spell’s target and yanks that creature back into existence. The resurrected spirit is forever attached to the loved one. But the Soul Leech is like a nick in the plane between life and death, and they exist in neither. A simple scratch from this beast will rip your soul straight from your body. That soul power is stored in the capacitor, allowing the Leech’s owner to access huge reserves of mana points.
“You know,” I said to Donut, “every time I think these guys reach a new level of fucked-upedness, they surprise me. If he makes one move toward us, Magic Missile him.”
Remex looked much like Featherfall had, only this guy was alive. Sort of. He appeared to be a zombified, featherless skyfowl. His eyes were black, swirling orbs. Hazy black smoke rose from the body. Ethereal, worm-like wisps swirled about the creature, like a parody of the full wings he once had.
A thin, thread-like twist of golden light flowed into the creature’s chest, tethering him to a golf ball-sized, amber-hued jewel that floated in the middle of the room. A stalk of light flowed downward through a small hole in the floor. Additional tendrils of golden light whipped about the gem, flying in all directions, as if it was seeking further items to feed. I cringed as the light ripped across me, but I didn’t feel anything. It seemed the light was harmless to those who couldn’t use it.
The eagle huddled in the corner, gasping. He appeared to be in agony.
Carclass="underline" What the hell is a bereft minion?
Mordecai: It’s a minion who is still alive after their controller is dead. It looks like you killed the head bad guy when you blew up Miss Quill. It happens. Quests sometimes look bigger than they really are. I should have known since it was only a silver quest. Sorry about making you waste all that dynamite. Get the information out of him, put him out of his misery, and then get back here before the swordsmen wake up. Otherwise you’ll be stuck in that warehouse all day.
I quickly examined the jewel.
Soul Crystal. C-Grade.
Elf technology. It’s like a wireless charger. Instead of electricity, it runs on the soul power of everything killed within the area. And instead of charging your iPhone, this particular gem tops off the town’s Swordsmen guards each night. Some of that power is also leeching into something else.
If this crystal is physically touched by living flesh, it will shatter and cease to work.
Mordecai had already told us a bit about these things. They were indeed worthless once they were activated. Breaking it would stop the guards from charging up, but it wouldn’t otherwise hurt them. They’d eventually run out of juice, but it wouldn’t happen right away.
“Were you watching? Did you see what I did to the outside of this building?” I asked.
“I saw. I saw,” he said. “You gave your friend the remote. My wife cast the spell. She has a thousand eyes, all watching at once. Watching, tasting. We see all. She cast the spell through me, and the vision comes through me and into her. But now she is gone, and it is building, building. There is nowhere to go. Her soul is lost now. With the sunrise, the release. The release.”
He wasn’t making any sense.
“So Quill would cast the spells, but she would do it through you? Is that what it means for you to be a capacitor?”
“Yes. So much power, so much power. With the little ones. With the antennae. All of it is gathered. Gathering. She has to siphon it away. She is gone, gone. She is gone. No spell tonight. No siphon tonight.”
“Great, another loon,” Donut muttered.
I tried to make my voice soothing. He was still all the way on the other side of the room, but I didn’t want to approach him. “Tell us about the little ones. The girls. Tell us about Featherfall and Miss Quill. How you came to be.”
The creature blinked, as if seeing us for the first time. The swirls of light around him lashed about. The cloudiness of his eyes vanished. “Who are you? Where am I?”
I repeated my question, but more slowly. He settled into the corner, wrapping his bare, emaciated wings around himself, like he was a scared child.
“You’re here for the story. I understand now. I have waited so long for someone to tell. All I had to do was tell the story, and I would be done.”
“Please,” I said. “Yes. Tell us, and we won’t hurt you.”
He nodded slowly. “Please, give me a moment. Don’t kill me before it’s done. I have practiced this. It’s a lot, but I gotta get it out. Here is the story. He… Featherfall. He never liked the guards. He only held a small amount of control over them. He wanted more. He asked me, after I retired and handed the perch to him. That’s right. He asked me what must be done to control the swordsmen. To control them, I said, one must know what they are. How they are animated, how they came to be. Wait, don’t ask about that. That’s not important. It’s a tangent. We have to avoid tangents. Featherfall was short-sighted. He had no ambition other than power over this small town. His kingdom. Skyfowl ruled this world. Did you know that? Before that demon destroyed it all. I like to think of it as a metaphor. Some say the Primals… No. I can’t. That’s off script. Sorry, sorry. Please. The skyfowl were once on top of the world. In control of the Over City. It’s important you know that.”
“What happened?” I asked. “How did he get put into that thing?”
“You are like him. You only care about what is in front of you right now. You don’t see the larger picture. I think that’s what I needed to say.”
Donut: Carl. Something is happening. Something weird. The counter is being slow as usual, but I think our views are going really high. I keep getting achievements for views and followers. You probably are too. I don’t understand why.
I ignored her. “Show me the small picture first. Then zoom it out for me.”
Remex shifted then continued. “Let me finish the story. Don’t kill me. I have to start over if you kill me. The orc, he killed me. Years ago.”
“I’m going to kill you right here and now if you don’t get on with it,” Donut said.
He made a half whimper, half cheeping noise that sounded utterly pitiful. “I shall finish. After I passed, Featherfall approached my wife. Quill. Miss Quill they say, but I don’t know why they added the Miss. He asked her to help him cast the spell. He knew bringing another dark cleric like myself from the dim would make an especially strong capacitor, giving him the additional soul power he needed to subjugate the swordsmen. He put himself into the Night Votive position, with my wife in the room to assist.”
I could barely follow his story. “Wait, so Miss Quill knew that you would be ripped from death and turned into what you are now? And she was okay with that?”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “She’s not really… no, I can’t say that. Remex. Think, think. Oh yes, she also knew Featherfall was making a grave error by casting the spell too close to the Amplifier.”