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59- Details Matter
🕑 Added 2025-08-12 23:20:04 +0000 UTCVraxious- The Kings Road
Vrax practically fled through the night; he couldn’t get some of the images of what he had done out of his head. Specifically what had happened to that fellow Grey. Ronald had gotten caught up in some grasping brambles outside one of the houses and awakened the gullet-diving dandelion lurking in the house. His death, while horrible, had at least been quick. He had barely gotten to beg for a quick death before the dandelion burst out of him.
Grey…. Duchess had stashed him for later, hanging from the tower like a hunk of meat with no arms or legs, just a torso that tried to scream but couldn’t past the severed vocal cords. That poor fucker had a resistance high enough to survive the blood loss for an uncomfortably long time. It had served its purpose, though. Vrax had walked Reese through the town up to the still-living remains of Grey and made it clear if he didn’t tell everyone who so much as mentioned the paladin what had happened here, he would be next.
Vrax shivered slightly. It wasn’t the first time he had killed someone, of course, but it was the first time he had ever done it in such a premeditated manner. They were going to kill me. It could have been quicker, but dead is dead. The more afraid they are of me, the less I will have to actually kill people who come after me and mine. It was awful, it was necessary, and if this ever doesn’t bother me at least some, then I should worry.
Vrax traveled all the way through the night to get as far from the ghosts of guilt he had left behind. He kept chugging through the day as well, finally setting up camp in the roadside wasteland that was the dragonfly's domain. They had dealt with most of the dandelions, but they had also killed everything else in the area, and the constant acid they spread ate away at the mundane foliage here, leaving nothing but melted stumps and wilted grass. Vrax sighed deeply. I guess I should get rid of the dragonflies now.
He walked through the waste to a stream a league or so from the road. It was already showing some trails of wilted ground and desiccated bird corpses, suggesting the dragonflies had started roaming this far. Vrax searched through the riverbank until he found what he was looking for. Mottled grey-brown toads, warty and slimy as could be. They were big bastards, filling both of Vrax's cupped hands as he scooped five of them into specimen jars and began his walk back to camp.
As Vrax settled in next to his small campfire again, the conductors peeked from his pocket just long enough to see an acidic dragonfly zoom by; they decided to stay in his pocket. “Yeah, I don’t blame you, but you guys seriously need to come out more often, though; you just nap all damn day.”
Vrax set the toad on a tree stump in front of himself. This should be one of the easiest adaptations I have done. He channeled [Adapt Life] into the toad, growing it from the size of his fist to that of a good-sized wine barrel. That's big enough; any more and it might just start eating people. Next he took its already slimy outer layer and made it resistant to acid. Well shit, that might actually be enough for this to hunt the dragonflys...but it's a bit boring; I need to at least add some flair.
Vrax dotted another eight eyes across the top of the toad's wide body and made it so the tongue could extend out nearly ten strides to snatch prey from treetops. Alright, warmer, but still needs something a bit more...fun. Vrax sat with his eldritch toad in the firelight for a few moments, musing about what he could grant to the toad to make it more unique.
[Mana 110/163]
He really hadn’t used much mana so far, so with a shrug he cooked dinner next to the toad and let his mana top off before looking into its main eyes. “Alright buddy, experiment time!” Vrax placed a hand on top of the toad and poured all of his mana into adapting its intelligence levels. Much like the conductors, its eyes slowly widened as its mind was expanded. The process took nearly ten minutes; when it was done, the toad croaked at Vrax. “Yeah, you’re welcome, I think.”
The toad nodded back and leapt surprisingly fast from its perch after the nearest dragonfly, shooting its tongue midair to intercept the fast-moving prey. Vrax blinked hard for a moment; he could have sworn the toad nodded at him, but that couldn’t be the case. He finished adapting another toad and then went to bed.
He awoke to a concerning sight; the two adapted toads stared at him like gargoyles from a half-stride away. Arranged all around them were piles of dragonfly wings proudly presented like trophies. “Uhh, good job, guys?” Vrax looked around; he couldn’t see a single remaining dragonflyin the area. The toads happily croaked at him without moving. “I’m going to go now….” Vrax broke camp the whole time the toads watched him with the unsettling clusters of eyes.
He began down the road for the last stretch of the journey back to the forsaken lands. Thankfully the toads didn’t follow, instead leaping off into the forest, presumably towards the stream they had been in before.
Vrax made a quick stop at Hopes End to grab a couple books from the library and talk to his dad briefly. William was in the chapel infirmary with a gently glowing golden light emanating from his hands, knitting the wounds of Vern. Vern had a pitchfork sticking out of his leg, odd considering Vern was a Fletcher by trade. William briefly looked up from his work as Vrax walked in. “Give me just a second. Vrax Vern here tripped and fell into a pitchfork three or four times.”
Vern looked up guiltily from the bed, grimacing slightly as William yanked the pitchfork out and began sealing those wounds. Vrax nodded at Vern’s blood-stained trousers and jerkin. “Uhh, Vern, why did you fall on Farmer John’s pitchfork repeatedly…?” Vern blushed; he was a young man a year or two below Vrax in age who had just taken over his uncle's shop after his untimely passing.
William answered for him, “Certainly can’t have anything to do with how he has been taking up so much of John’s sister’s time lately.” William cocked a crooked smile. “Alright, get going; you will be fine.” He ushered Vern out of the infirmary with a whap of his cane.
“Your bedside manner is terrible.” Vrax muttered.
“And you look like the villain out of every generic fairy tale ever. What’s your point?” William countered, sitting down on a clean bed.
“Bah, never mind, I had a quick question for you: how do kingdom claims actually work? Does everyone immediately know? What do you need to support one? What decides where your borders stop…” William cut him off.
“Whoah, whoah, slow the hell down, Vrax. This is a very specific line of questions. Why do you need to know this?” His jovial tone had settled to a more urgent, serious tone.
Vrax sighed. “My trial is to conquer a portion of the forsaken lands…”
William blanched. “That’s...a horrific first trial, and yes, a kingdom anchor could certainly help with that, but there ain’t no way in all the hells you could…” Vrax made a wellllll face that derailed William’s train of thought. “Boy, do you have a kingdom anchor?” He said in a hushed tone.
Vrax scratched the scar on his cheek. “Well… no, but I have a skill that lets me make kings’ claims anywhere I put up a shrine, and Vurune holds sway.”
William looked shocked, to the point blood drained from his face slightly. “I’m going to skip over how that shouldn’t even be possible…” William took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you what I know of them. I may be old and at one point held some sway, but not that much sway.”
William led Vrax to his office, making sure the chapel was empty behind them. He locked the front door before hobbling back to the office and also shutting that door. William pulled a small cloudy orb from inside his desk and sat it down resoundingly on a shelf near the door; he channeled a bit of mana into it, causing a haze to appear in the air around them. “Anti-divination ward,” he answered Vrax’s confused expression.
William sat down and gestured at the large map of the empire of strands they belonged to on the wall beside him. “In simple terms, system borders, or system-recognized kingdoms, are areas that the system that governs our world has given some degree of control over to one individual. What they do with this control varies drastically; our kingdom borders repel high-tiered monsters born outside our lands, and we haven’t had a famine here, well, ever, because the king has used some of his control to increase crop production and farmland fertility. I’m sure there is much more he has done, but hell if I know what it is.” William stopped to pour himself a small splash of a strong-smelling brown liquor from an ancient-looking clay jar.
“Being the individual in control of this power over a chunk of the world is called having a king’s claim. The amount of agency you have over your king's claim depends on many, many factors, but the short version is the more essence spent or earned within your borders over time, the more changes you can make. That's a simplified version, but it's close enough. I don’t know what a kingdom sanctuary is like; hell, I doubt there are many people alive who do.” William huffed a bit at that and then shook his head in disbelief before continuing.
“Normally, you would need a kingdom anchor to make a king’s claim... Artifacts of immense power crafted as the magus opus of a fourth- or fifth-tier crafter or a fucking divine artifact granted by a god…you apparently can just make one with some bushes…seriously, Vrax wars have been fought for unused Anchors.” William gave Vrax a "you are going to be the death of me" sigh.
Vrax interjected. “So what decides where your borders are? Obviously scary shit being nearby isn’t good for them.” Vrax gestured broadly towards the quickly retreating border near the forest.
William held up a finger and loudly finished his drink before pouring himself another one. “Dad, it’s like noon. Are you getting drunk?” Vrax asked with a cocked eyebrow.
William took another gulp before responding, “If you ever have a little shit of a kid who marches into your office and goes, ‘Hi, Dad, I just randomly got a power that could destabilize global geopolitics, and I’m not even level twenty-five yet!’ You would fucking day drink too.” He said it gruffly but with humor.
Vrax slumped back; that was a fair point. William rolled his eyes and went back to his explanation. “The borders are decided by a bunch of nebulous factors, but basically the system adjusts them based on how in control of an area you are. Have a solid grip of power and lots of martial might, and your borders expand. Have a population that wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire and monsters knocking on the walls and not enough men-at-arms to deal with the problem, borders retreat.”
Vrax nodded; it mostly made sense. It was obvious his dad was going off a lot of anecdotal or book-learned knowledge here, but it was definitely good enough for him to get started with. “Thanks, Pappy!” Vrax stood up quickly.
“Hold the hell on a moment.” William gestured for him to sit back down. “You do realize that once people realize there is a new kingdom, it’s going to kick off an ungodly shitstorm of who knows what—diplomats, traders, people who think they can steal your… Bush? Anchors. Not to mention the adventurers guild and a dozen knightly orders that are going to want a presence. I don’t think anyone will know it’s there until they physically wander in, but from what you’ve told me, the place you’re setting up in isn’t exactly isolated. It won’t be long before word gets out.” William settled back into his chair, cupping his glass of whisky like his life depended on it.
Vrax nodded. “Not to mention the clusterfuck it would cause with the duke if my borders pushed his back and I became the new sovereign of Hopes End.” Vrax winked conspiratorially.
William snorted. “Boy, you are either going to get yourself killed or get all of us a hell of a tax break. If you're setting up in the city, it will probably be a while before your borders expand that much, assuming one of the many, many monsters doesn’t just come tear down your little slice of paradise.”
They talked for a while longer on the logistics of running a small settlement, especially the added challenges of one surrounded by lethal wildlife and chaotic surges of eldritch bullshit. By the end Vrax felt like he at least had a decent understanding of how rough it would be to make anything other than a small outpost full of adventurers as crazy as him.
That’s fine, though I have a bit of time now; I can get my trial finished and work on turning my little slice of the Forsaken lands into somewhere the paladins don’t want to go. I am nowhere near powerful enough to be able to stop them, especially the tier-2 captains they will certainly send. But I bet I can make it, just not fucking worth it to deal with my neck of the woods. Not to mention bounty hunters or assassins. I bet I will get a whole hell of a lot less of them if the job posting is “Go hunt the paladin in his stronghold of horror; bring your own casket.” Vrax chuckled to himself at his daydreams of a nightmare wood at his beck and call and made his way to the market.
Martha saw him strolling up and set her apron aside, a wicked smile across her rosy cheeks. “Ahh, you’re here to pay for your first lesson?”
Vrax nodded and handed her a single golden coin. “Yes, ma’am, going into the woods again soon, going to try and get a lesson from you every time I run back and forth.”
She harrumphed approvingly, “Good, it would be a shame if some farmer offs you because you think blocking and parrying are the same thing! Now, help me put my goods away in my shop, then go grab a healing potion or three and meet me on the training grounds.” Martha said with authority and then slyly slid him one of her honey buns with a wink before putting the rest away.
Comments
jollybane
Lmfao the thought crossed my mind but it wouldnt make semse for vrax whos purposfully trying to not escalate the roadside horrors
Austin Gibbs
I was hoping you would let the intrusive thoughts win an make a hypno toad lol
jollybane
XD hell yes.
Icarus
Day in the life of Vrax: - Give a man extreme PTSD - Casually create 2 hopping toads of ecological disaster with a frightening amount of intelligence during supper. - Causes his old man to day drink himself stupid... Sounds like business as usual xD
