Brent Stinebaker
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II-73 Into the Nest
🕑 Added 2025-03-06 11:11:39 +0000 UTCDuke Gold Mask. Now there’s a rat motherfucker who’s so good at ratfucking that half the present rats in the Claimed Hells were probably shit out from his ass. The goddamn piece of shit is responsible for more bastards, betrayals, and bullshit incidents than I can count.
The first thing you’ll feel around him is good. Like, real fucking good. It’s like pure warmth lubing up your joints, like fire rousing in your heart, and like a song wailing in your mind. You want to be around him. You want to be near him. And he’ll make you love him. Fucker’s mind and will are immense.
It’s a testament to his abilities that he somehow left both Greed and Envy without any long-standing grudges. It’s an even greater statement that he managed to pull off what should be a black mark on his name into something that resembled little more than a corporate transition.
And that’s the worst thing about him. He’ll use you. He’ll use you to do some shit he doesn’t want to get his own hands dirty. If you dig around, he used to have, like, twelve kids and three wives back when he was just a Knight. Well, over the years, the kids and wives have gone down hard, and now… now word is he might be having new marital issues with Lein the Lightbane—Duchess of Wrath. How he managed to charm her in the first place is a wonder, but their son seems to be clamoring for a fight with the old man…
The forecast is looking a little messy for this family. Or anyone who gets caught up with them.
-Excerpt on Gold Mask
II-73
Into the Nest
“I yield! I yield! I yield!”
The cry went from desperate to downright shrill as the shadow-coated summoner backed away from the encroaching knight forged from radiant gold. The psionic spiders they created via Essence were no more, and their resolve quickly followed thereafter.
Wei, Agnesia, and the Collectress looked to the dome where the commotion was taking place. The tall elven woman folded her arms and advanced like a cat stalking a cornered rat. Her massive champion bore down on her foe, and as his cries grew louder and more frequent, as did the jeers from the crowd.
“Fucking kill him!”
“You lost me Sins, asshole!”
“Harbinger-curse you, you useless shit!”
“Well, that was expected; let’s go.”
As the elf stepped, her knight stomped. The ground shook. Soon, the shadow-clad summoner was pressed against the protective dome. “Please! No! I’ll give you anything! We can come to a new arrangement. There’s—I’ll be your slave! I serve you for centuries!”
The elf spat off to the side. “I don’t need a weak slave. But there is something I need from you. Something you can do.”
“Yes? What? I’ll do anything! Anything, please!” There was a new hope in the shadow-summoner’s voice. He took a step closer to the knight—close enough to be in range of the massive blade it wielded. Wei shook his head; this man was no warrior. No man of blade or martial spirit would allow themselves to make such a mistake.
The golden giant blurred. Their limbs reached out like falling arrows, grabbing the shadow summoner by his arms. He cried out in horror, kicking his legs like an infant seized by a cruel parent. “No! No!”
Laughter and shouts erupted from the masses. They all seemed a mixture of excited, angry, or generally amused by the scene.
The elf turned to them, and with the snap of her finger, summoned a small suited tongue—her lawyer—before addressing the crowd. “Dearly gathered under the House of Pride: This discord and discourse between me and the Night-Moored is finished. The honor of my beloved and respected master, Count Noon of Noons is settled. I ask you now, Night-Moored: Do you take back your insults. Do you retract what you said against me and my masters?”
“Yes,” cried Night-Moored, the shadowy summoner. The knight pinched him by the neck and tore the smoke-like coat from his body. Beneath, was—Wei’s eyes widened. The summoner was but a boy. A child. Younger than Wei himself. He wore a leather doublet along with fine linen pants, but his feet ended in hooves, and along the right side of his pudgy, exposed face were a series of glowing scars. They seemed to resemble symbols of some kind, artistically inflicted on the boy’s body.
The Night-Moored swallowed. “I… Yes! I was wrong. I’m sorry! I’m sorry, everyone! I’m really, really sorry, Count Noon! I’ll—I’ll do anything to make this up to you all.”
More noise. But Wei caught the tightening of the knight’s digits. The young master looked away and pulled Agnesia by the shoulder. “Turn aside.”
“What—”
“Good. I’m glad you’re sorry,” the elf said. But Wei saw the smile grow on her face. A feral smile that preceded bloodshed. “But I need the others here to remember it as well. And there’s just one thing I got in mind for how to make this memorable.”
Her knight wrapped its large hands around the boy’s body and twisted in opposite directions. His spinal column shattered one after another, bones bursting out from flesh, spraying red and mangled gore against the dome. A gargled gasp came from the boy. He tried to scream, but his lungs had popped, and no air would flow. And then the knight began to twist and pull harder, and thus followed the sound of ripping…
Agnesia swallowed, but her jaw hardened, and she turned. She turned to observe what was happening in defiance of Wei. She turned and took in the murder, her eyes drinking in every detail, her features growing openly disgusted and scornful of the cheering crowd.
Wei noticed the Collectress looking at the girl, studying her. Her expression proved to be inscrutable. What she thought of this violence, Wei couldn’t tell, but the Old Man seemed more or less indifferent—or outright bored by expression. And once more, Wei was reminded of that he lived in the Claimed Hells, that this place was filled with monsters of all shapes and natures, that none beyond his sect was his ally.
When the time came to perform a bloodletting here, he would enjoy it. He would enjoy removing the detritus. He offered the mangled remains of the dead Night-Moored a final look and shook his head.
What an ill omen it was to be born weak, and to never discover strength thereafter.
“Pardon me,” Agnesia finally said to the Collectress. “I got distracted. You said there was someplace private we could go to—to talk about things.”
The Countess of Lust smiled slightly, and a few of her extra limbs unclasped behind her. “Yes. Of course. Come with me, princess.” She regarded Wei with a look. “I assume you will be joining us as well?”
The young master kept to his part. “Yes. I wish to ensure the safety of my disciples by any and all means. I trust that you won’t be offended by my presence.”
“Of course. Old Man. I’m stealing this two for a moment. Official matters sour the taste of these galas; best us be away.”
The Old Man waved her off, but from the corner of his eye, he watched the Collectress, and a tendril of Essence glided out from his being.
Message incoming from [The Old Man]
“Watch yourself around that bitch. She’s fucked boys like you to death all her life. And I mean that both figuratively and literally.”
Wei wasn’t sure if the Old Man was trying to engender distrust or actually worried. Could be both.
“Dumbshit’s more concerned that she’ll poach you from him,” Bishop snorted. The Trespasser remained a steady presence in the back of Wei’s mind, and Wei guessed that he was probably buried deep in the minds of half the sinners in this place already. “Fuck no. Just yours and the rest of your little groups. Been trying to protect you more than I’ve been sneaking around. Trust me, psionic shit isn’t just a ‘get in anywhere’ power. Half of these people have high enough wills to resist me—or at least notice me.”
“Then how do you know what the Old Man wants?”
“Intercepted some of his bitching. He vents a lot to that Mulver orc who tried to recruit you.”
Ah. Mulver Groon. Wei looked around and frowned. He and Mulver weren’t allies per say, but it would be nice to see another familiar face.
“You might have to kill him,” Bishop said.
“I prefer killing people I’m familiar with. There is usually a good reason behind why I’m killing them in that case.”
“Kid. You might just be the right kind of fucked up for this shit.”
Wei took that as a compliment.
Several attendants helped clear a path for the Collectress, and though the crowds were thick, her coming caused the tides of people to break and recede. It wasn’t surprising. Even Sinners with the lowest Perception could probably feel her arrival, and knew better than to get in the way of a Countess. Wei was about to ask where she was going when he detected something else with his Omniscience.
Essence was pouring free from other Sinners around her, twisting and twirling until a doorway opened. Suddenly, a portal rushed toward them, and Wei found himself walking along a long bridge connected to—
His mind reeled. This wasn’t just a bridge, it was linked to a structure composed from multiple aligned rings. A moving platform descended between their gaps, stopping on certain levels below—levels also connected to other bridges, ending at other portals. The sheer fall went down a long way, and the young master felt as if he was in some kind of inverted tower. A sweet and delicious scent choked the atmosphere, and in the distance, he saw rows of bodies. Most of them were shivering from the cold, and distantly, he could hear some crying. Flying demons with sinuous bodies clutching razor-thin whips struck them from time to time like horsemen herding a flock. It didn’t take much for Wei to realize they were slaves. Just as it didn’t take much for him to guess where he was now.
“I am honored you would invite us into your home,” Wei said, pouring as much false gratitude as he could into his voice.
The Collectress threw her head back and laughed. “Do not be coy, boy. This is but my front porch, if anything. Now.” She came to a halt at the center of the bridge, and Wei faint became aware of three demons hovering just below, whips at the ready. He also realized the bridge didn’t have any railings. The fall likely wouldn’t kill him or Agnesia, but finding himself on enemy territory so suddenly—
“She can’t do anything to you. Don’t worry.” Bishop’s voice kept the young master from considering a pre-emptive attack. “Spatial magic is easy to stop. Which means that she must have registered a portal connecting her with the Old Man. He knows where you are, and won’t let anything happen to you on his watch, on his territory. Which this currently counts as per Space and Hospitality Law XII Line 3.”
“It’s true!” Wei’s lawyer chirped internally
The young master struggled to stay interested through the monologue. “This place has far too much administrative bloat. But it is also strangely thought…”
“Yeah. No shit, kid. You’re in hell.”
“So. Tell me of your woes,” the Collectress said, holding out a hand to Agnesia. The princess blinked, uncertain what the demoness wanted until the fingers were right in front of her. Awkwardly, she reached out to hold the Collectress’s hand. The other limbs of the Collectress snaked forth slowly, each one massaging a different part of Agnesia’s arms. “One so young, so sweet as you shouldn’t be made to run. Shouldn’t be forced to bear this burden.” The Collectress sighed. “That is the thing about us. Life will not care. And despite our positions and supposed privilege, we are the flowers instead of the sword. We are not respected. And so we cannot choose.”
Agnesia froze, and had to stop herself from looking at Wei.
“Is Agnesia well? Wei? Where are you? You suddenly disappeared.” A message notification came from Ellena, and Wei dismissed it. He needed to focus right now. He wasn’t sure what the Collectress was doing, but he didn’t want to face any surprises.
“Will be back soon,” Wei said, absentmindedly.
“We?” Agnesia finally asked.
“I was nobility too. Well. Not quite like you. But favored concubine. One beloved. I was but a bit older than you when my world was taken by the Embraced. It was… one of the worst and best days of my life.” The Collectress sighed afterward. Wei couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or lying, but instinct told him the true might just be somewhere in between.
“I—I see.” Agnesia controlled her breathing and continued. Earlier, William coached her briefly, telling her things to expect and what else to watch for. It wasn’t enough to make her a competent infiltrator, but she didn’t understand what she needed to do, which was sell how overwhelmed she felt. And how angry she truly was. “But I’m done with that. And if you’re honest about what happened to you, about your desire for revenge, then maybe our—our closeness can grow. I am willing to offer blood and spirit for revenge.”
One of the Collectress’s hands reached up and rested against Agnesia’s cheek. “Wondrous.” Her voice was husky and low, like a drunk finally obtaining a long desired sip of alcohol. “Blood and spirit are exactly what we need. I can take you now. Show you the weapon I have been crafting so you can understand.” But suddenly, her demonic irises fell on Wei. “But it can only be revealed to you. Only Scions can experience what I am to show you. You may stay in contact, but for your safety.”
“For her safety—and the safety of my sect, I wish to strike a bargain,” Wei interjected. He wasn’t much better than Agnesia at acting, but his nerves were deadened from all he experienced. What matter if the Collectress uncovered the truth? It was but a fight. But a battle. And but death if he failed.
And he already knew death, had struck an accord with the Hound.
“Oh? And what arrangements would you like me to make? What do you want in return for this?”
“That can be discussed,” Wei said. “But for now, I need Agnesia to be taken somewhere safe. Somewhere beyond so many prying eyes.”
She paused as she looked between the young master and the princess. Then, slowly, she chuckled—-and laughed. “Oh. Oh, I see. How responsible of you, little patriarch. How sweet. How affectionate. You must truly think deeply for her well-being. And her… bodily safety.”
For whatever reason, Wei felt a sense of discomfort rising through his body.
“Worry not, then,” the Collectress said. She slid her hand behind Agnesia’s back as a platform suddenly rose into view. It was entirely empty, devoid of people. But Wei’s Omniscience allowed him to glimpse something—a splotch of blood near the far edge. “I will see her spirited to a place of true sanctuary for now, with your permission, and what this is done… well, I suppose we can begin proper discussions.”
The young master fought the urge to swallow, and clenched the derision in his heart as he forced himself to salute. “I would be in your debt.”
The Collectress smiled. “And I yours.”
Only Bishop’s laugh broke the tension. “Good job kid. Did that faster than I expected. Poor fucker bought that shit hook and bait and all.”
Achievement earned: [Deceiver] - Increases Aspect of Mind by 10% when lying to another person.
Comments
Dar-Angol
It's "hook,line and sinker",the line of the joke, now I know your younger than I,also bet you've never watched any of the old black and whites,that's not porn,it's old movies...
Brent Stinebaker
GODCLADS chapter being edited. Will be uploaded in a few hours. Writing new TTF now.
