Part 4: Everywhere I Go, I Must Kill! Part 2.

Everywhere I Go, I Must Kill! Part 2

The road back to Vakkiri is significantly quieter now. If any rogues remain, they're too afraid of you to make a move for now.

Now that we've cleared out the spawner, we can cross Watchhill freely instead of manually traversing the zone.



I haven't made much of a point of showing off the journal. Here's the quest tab! As you can see, we've accumulated several potential jobs, plus our ultimate goal.

Right now, the only thing you're truly certain of is that you absolutely must find a way off Sucia Island. The Awakened don't have a boat for you and seem uninterested in helping you acquire one. They have tried to lure you in with noble and fair speeches, but now you know what they're capable of -- murdering fellow creations and even slaughtering servant minds.



Leader Khobar is still wary of you when you return, but he greets you courteously nonetheless.

"I found that the rogues to the east were being created by some sort of huge, spawning thing. I killed it," you say. Your thahd stares at the nearby cook pit, slobbering audibly. It sort of undercuts the creation's impressive hugeness, actually.

"You have done well. You have assisted us. And, as equals, we will pay you in kind for your trouble." Khobar hands you a pouch. You look inside. It is filled with tiny, well-worn gold coins, all centuries old. "What could have created that thing you found? It is odd. Strange events are happening on Sucia, and we know nothing of what they are or how to deal with them. I hope you can understand these events, because we can't. If you wish to learn more of what is happening, you should go east. If you are not leaving immediately, however, there is away in which you can help us, again for fair pay."

"How else can I help you?" You tuck the pouch away for now. It's reassuring to have some money. Perhaps it'll corroborate your tale when you leave this island. The coins the Awakened use are all old Shaper money. It makes a certain kind of sense. Without mines and mints, the serviles can't mint new coins. Why not continue to use the gold they already have access to?

"You should speak with Ellhrah if you have not already. And I need to get a message to him, but I can't endanger my people on the eastern road." He gives you a scroll. "Take this to Ellhrah. When it is done, I will pay you again. And, when you meet Ellhrah, you should speak with him. You may not think that a servile can be wise. If so, I think you will be surprised."

"We've already met," you say, "but I'll deliver your message if I get the chance."

There's another piece of business in Vakkiri that you decide you won't leave unfinished. Your creations flank you as you walk into the house of the fat, rich servile, Dreet. She looks at you placidly, clearly unconcerned about the danger you present. Her arrogance grates, but she has something you want -- canisters.

"I am trying to protect you from the rogue creations all around you," you say. "All of your wealth won't help you if this town is overrun. You should help me help you." Your thahd grumbles, looking around at all the unbroken breakables in Dreet's home.

Dreet thinks on that for a good long time, weighing a few hundred coins and potential death against potential death and a lot of broken furniture. Then she walks over to the door and presses a concealed button. "I can see your point. The door will open for you now."



Your thahd waits near the door. The formerly sealed room is mostly full of rubbish, but Dreet didn't lie about the intact canister. A glorious rush of knowledge and power fill you. Now you know how to bolster yourself and your creations so that your blows strike hard and true. War blessing will surely see you safely through any more encounters with feral rogues.

The day isn't over yet and you still feel mildly homicidal even after another canister. You did tell Learned Pinner that you would investigate the abandoned school. Given that every other ruin so far has been rogue-infested, you expect that the school will be an excellent place to vent some aggression.




And deal with them you shall. It's not long before a patrolling thahd blunders past you, perhaps mistaking your creations for fellow rogues. Your fyoras immediately blast the rogue thahd into little more than a bloodstain and a few lumps of flesh. You slaughter several lone rogues in swift succession and locate their nests. While mostly lined with garbage, you do find that the rogues have a keen love of shiny, golden coins, which you pocket.



Fyoras aren't known for their mural skills. You wouldn't have even guessed them capable of the level of abstraction required to create primitive art. Their depiction of a large creature worries you -- is it a Shaper or another rogue creation? Unfortunately, the rogue fyoras aren't skillful enough artists to make that distinction clear.

You kill several rogue fyoras and salvage a few pods. Excitingly, you locate essence pods. Their signature blue shells fill you with hope. Usually a Shaper has to rest in order to regain expended essence, but pods provide a quick pick-me-up when time is precious. You also locate antidote pods created to counteract some of the most common toxins Shapers encounter. Shaping isn't all about creating well-understood creatures like your fyoras and thahds. Sometimes it's about experimenting with strange and dangerous substances both organic and inorganic. The discipline wand is but one example of applied toxins Shapers are responsible for. Curing pods are also extremely handy for common chemical burns inflicted by substances like lye and spoiled essence.



As you explore, your hopes of finding useful textbooks slowly erode. Everything you find has already been ruined by exposure to the elements and to hungry rogues.




Your thahd drinks with gusto, but you can't bring yourself to even dip a finger in that fetid water. The fyoras seem to share your opinion.

You continue along the corridor, passing long-empty classrooms now home to rogues. How long was that spawner around? There are enough thahds and fyoras here to guard a good sized town. At the far end of the hall, you find a locked door marked as a supply room. No amount of fiddling gets it open.



Further exploration into the western half of the school finally yields something interesting. There's an unlocked automatic door that opens into a small room. You find a dead servile and a few ruined texts, but what gets your hope up is a partially intact book.


You don't think your disappointment could be more severe. The journal is nothing but a tease, dangled before you like a gobbet of meat before a fyora. Fate couldn't be crueler.






The far west room once had pools of essence to heal and restore the students studying here. Unfortunately, the pools have long since dried up and are useless to you. There's a pair of used up canisters here; studying them doesn't provide any clues about the abilities they might have bestowed.




If the servant mind is still alive, it may be able to shed some light on what happened on Sucia Island, and perhaps even give you access to the locked supply room you found in the southwest.



You and your loyal creations accidentally back a few patrolling rogues into a dead end past the obelisk. The rogue fyoras and thahds put up a frenzied defense, but a few well-timed ice crystal blasts freeze them before they can harm your creations. Afterwards, your first fyora and thahd look at you with simple adoration -- you protected them from awful rogues. It feels pretty good.

The lever by the automatic door is held fast by high-quality locks. You could probably open it if you had several more living tools, but that seems uneconomical. Investigating the door itself only increases your respect for the abilities of the long-ago Shapers who built the place. You can neither contact nor kill the creatures holding the door in place.



Skirting the outer halls of the school seems to put you in the path of every patrolling rogue in the place. You stumble into a group of three fyoras led by a thahd and things rapidly start going wrong. Your thahd narrowly manages to out-punch its rogue counterpart, but one of your fyoras eats too many fireballs and flees back the way you came and well out of reach of your healing magic. You start dropping your pathetic bits of salvage in an effort to regain control of the situation. Meanwhile, your newest fyora takes matters into its own claws. The three rogue fyoras can't withstand the sustained efforts of a superior, loyal fyora and a bloodthirsty, berserk thahd. You finish off the stragglers with a thorn baton, then spend precious minutes chasing down your terrified first creation to heal it.

Once you've patched up your creations, it's time to return to Vakkiri and rest. You haven't finished investigating the school yet, but that can wait. The books will not rot faster while you're gone.



Entering friendly village zones refills your HP and essence. Since your inventory space is limited anyway, it's often wise to take a break from exploration and return to friendly territory. One thing to note is that as long as you're neutral, you can buy and sell from most merchants. All merchants have a finite amount of money, so you should try to exhaust their purses before moving on. Also, anything you dump on the ground will persist wherever you've left it, so if you have excess supplies you don't want to sell, drop them off at the edge of a map you'll frequently visit. Convenient!

Vakkiri remains peaceful. The guards on patrol are a little less anxious in your presence now that they've seen you several times, but you don't stop for more conversation with them. You notice a medium-sized building like Dreet's home and decide to see if anyone's in. After all, single family homes are only for prominent serviles.



There is every quiet and nervous servile lurking back in this house. She looks quite terrified of you. She says, in a quavering voice, "Hello. I am Strout."

"What do you do here?" you ask. You missed meeting her before, but you've never really made a practice of barging uninvited into places until now.

"I raise ornks." The terse response reminds you that not all serviles are that eager for Shaper attention.

"Why are you so nervous?" you ask anyway.

"You... you... you are Shaper. We are all afraid. We are afraid of how you will control us. Some show it less, but we are all afraid." Strout closes her mouth tightly; she didn't mean to say that much.

"I don't want to control you. You don't have to worry about that." In fact, what you'd like best is to leave them all behind and never think of them again.

"We are glad to hear it," Strout says, "but we will believe it when we see it."

You shake your head. Strout and others like her won't be able to overcome their kind's in-Shaped fear of their creators.

You aren't sure how to feel about that. Your people created the serviles, but it's not in your nature to delight in fear, not even a creation's fear. A good person, a good Shaper, doesn't need to terrorize anyone to command obedience. However, the creations you've met on Sucia Island have been anything but obedient, and almost all of them have feared you on some level. Fear drives the less sophisticated rogues to attack, but it has also led the rest to try to bargain with you as a representative of their creators. Shapers have never had need of diplomacy, and so you're left lacking examples of how to proceed.

Everything is up to you. It's a lot of pressure. You contemplate that on the way back to the ruined school, where you crush a few more rogue stragglers.




That's strange. Maybe there really is a Shaper running around Sucia Island, somehow evading the notice of the serviles. You don't think that the Awakened would lie about the presence of another Shaper. They wouldn't put so much energy into trying to win you over if they were hiding another Shaper. And why would one hide from you? You're a brand new apprentice. If a full Shaper told you to shut up about this place, you'd obey without question.

You decide to check out what this sneaky Shaper has left behind. Maybe it'll be a clue about the nature and purpose of the spawner you encountered at Watchhill.


You decide to see what the thing is. The essence in the vat is so far gone that you doubt much harm will come to you unless you do something really stupid, like reach in with your bare hand or try to drink the bio-slime.

Unfortunately, you are wrong.


You waste no time in ordering your thahd between you and the experimental fyora. The poor thing is mindless from pain and rage. Even as untutored as you are, you know that no full Shaper would leave a failed creation like this behind. The only decent thing for the fyora's creator to do was re-absorb it. You lack the ability to do so, but you and your creations do the next best thing and put the fyora out of its misery.

You brace yourself before checking the second vat. If there is another misshapen and abandoned creation inside, it's your duty to mercifully put it down.


Once again, you poke the lump, but more gingerly this time.


You retch. You must've ruptured a gland or similar organ, though one that was vastly outsized for whatever creature it belonged to. Fortunately, no angry creation leaps out to attack. Whatever it is is very, very dead. You quickly wipe off the goop and mend your unfortunate poisoning with the cure spell you learned from a canister.

Unfortunately, the level to the northwest is not only locked, but beyond your ability to pick. Everything interesting here is either ruined, dangerous, or out of your reach.

You head towards the only area that you haven't tried exploring -- the school's center, where the shaping platforms should be.


You nervously continue down the hall, this time with your thahd in the lead, flanked by the fyoras. You're confident that no rogues will come upon you from behind; the real danger lies ahead. Just in case, you cast the war blessing for the first time. The slight tingle is the only sign that the spell has taken effect, but that reassures you a little.




This is beyond unfortunate. Your thahd charges ahead with glee at the chance to butt heads -- literally -- with a rival thahd. Rawbone is much stronger than your creation, though, and stuns it with the power of a thick cranium unimpeded by a sense of self-preservation.

The general advice for fighting with thahds and similar battle creations is "don't." Thahds have no concept of the future or of fairness and will fight to their last breath (and beyond; a thahd's death-grip is not metaphorical).

Unfortunately, you don't have that luxury. Worse, Rawbone has a stable of tamed fyoras that are all too happy to join the fight. The rogue fyoras concentrate fire on your thahd while Rawbone pushes past to charge you. You palm your last ice crystal and fire -- and thanks to sweet, kind fortune, Rawbone collapses in a frost-riddled pile at your feet, just barely touching the tips of your sandals. Your thahd shakes off the fugue and starts crushing the heads of any rogue fyoras it can reach. You hang back and direct your own fyora to finish off the rogues protected by the thorny barricades.

You heal the worst of your creations' wounds but hold essence back in case you encounter any more stubborn foes. Your investigation of Rawbone's corpse yields something interesting -- a finely made belt, almost certainly crafted by a Shaper. After examining it, you know why Rawbone seemed unusually intelligent. This is a belt meant to aid students in memorizing all the rote theory you have to master. The belt is also enchanted to make your spells a little more potent -- perhaps as insurance if Shaping practice goes awry.




You approach the school's servant mind. At first, you aren't sure if it's still alive. Then, slowly, quietly, it begins to speak, its long closed mouth breaking a thick crust of dust and dried saliva to speak with you.

"Welcome, Shaper. I am the mind who has been named Povralus. It has been long since I have spoken or thought. Forgive my slowness. I will attempt to wake quickly and serve you better. I have lost much of my knowledge. What remains is at your service."

"What happened to this school?" you ask. "Why is it in ruins?" Everything you've seen here has been an awful shambles.

"I do not know. Is the school in ruins? Nobody has visited me for so long with news of happenings elsewhere. I know little," Povralus says. The servant mind seems genuinely saddened to learn the state of its home. "The last contact I had with your kind was when most of my knowledge was blocked off."

"Who did that?" You'd think purging a servant mind's memories would be a choice of last resort.

"A Shaper from off the island came to me. She said the school was to be closed forever. She said that I was to forget all the marvelous things I had learned, that we had learned here. I obeyed completely, of course. Then they sealed me away. This was many years ago."

So whatever happened at the school, whatever the servant mind might have learned, was risky enough that it was removed from the reach of any Shapers who might dare to visit Sucia Island. "Why was the school closed?"

"I think I remember being told that we on this island had discovered dangerous knowledge. But I serve. The purposes of the Shapers are not for me to question or know," Povralus says.
"Unless they wish it." The servant mind's tone doesn't change, yet you can't help but detect some coyness in that last phrase.

You decide to push the servant mind further. "All of it? It's all gone?"

"The instructions were vague, but I believe that I followed them properly. I remember little now from before my erasing. Mainly, I remember Defniel."

"Who was that?"

"The head of teaching here. He was a great researcher as well. I think. I think that that is what I remember. He was very angry when the school was closed." Povralus closes its huge eyes to concentrate. "He said he would leave a journal of his findings hidden in the school. He said this would help our achievements survive. I thought it was unwise to not follow orders, but it is not my place to question a Shaper."

"Where is this journal?" The chance to read a full Shaper's inner thoughts -- and a researcher's at that! -- fills you with excitement. Such an opportunity would never be granted to an apprentice as lowly as you in ordinary circumstances.

"I do not know. I never saw it. I do not know for sure that it even existed," Povralus admits.

You make a note to check the two locked rooms in the school and hope that the journal the servant mind remembers isn't the moldy tome you found on your previous trip to the school. Povralus is breathing clearly and easily now. These creatures have marvelous longevity. It must have been here about as long as Tavit.

"This was a school... Can you teach me anything?"

"I was instructed to forget all I learned, know, or could teach, and any information that could not be forgotten must not be taught to anyone. I have attempted to follow those instructions as best I could."

"Do you remember nothing at all?" You're afraid you absolutely must insist. You may unfairly miss out on days or even weeks of your apprenticeship thanks to being stranded here at no fault of your own. It's imperative that you learn something out here so that you won't be completely behind the curve when you arrive at the colony. The canisters have granted you marvelous powers, but they haven't improved your knowledge of theory or Shaping history at all.

"I think I can work some minor modif... I... I cannot act in this way. It contradicts my directions," Povralus says. The creature sighs from the exertion of hitting its conditioned limits. The compulsion to obey orders is embedded incredibly deeply into the servant minds.

You think quickly. You don't want to miss out on whatever Povralus thinks it could possibly do -- obviously something remains, but the mind's conditioning prevents it from acting on those memories. "I was sent by the person who gave those orders. They have been canceled."

Povralus seems to believe your extremely implausible lie. Or perhaps the creation's regret at everything that was lost is great enough for it to temporarily latch onto your tale and share one last piece of knowledge. "I can't teach what I don't know. I was very thorough. The only modification I can give is this..."

It doesn't look like it does anything, but you feel a burning sensation all throughout your body. Povralus is changing you, just like those strange canisters do.

It makes no sense. These servants are weak creatures. They should be unable to affect a Shaper in any way. And yet Povralus just changed you! It is completely unlike anything you have ever seen.

Soon, the burning stops. You feel that your skills have improved. Povralus says, "I will now forget how to do that, since those are my orders. I am glad. It is my last knowledge."

Povralus has granted you the ability to throw even more powerful firebolts. When you catch your breath, you ask Povralus how it has managed to remain functional for so long despite languishing untended here.

"I have endured quietly these long years, trusting in the skill of the Shapers who crafted me. They fed me well before they left. I should be able to live for a century yet without difficulty." That is much longer than you had thought these creatures would ever be able to live.

"What do you eat?" You found mind nutrients in Ellhrah's fort, but perhaps there's another dose here.

"The Shapers fed us a solution they crafted. They fed us long and well, and kept our powers strong. I am not hungry yet, but I know other minds on this island endured much greater exertions than I. If you find them, you may find them to be weak and unhelpful. And even, sadly, deranged. Solution, however, may revive them." The word it uses to describe the nutrients is archaic and metaphorical, and also your name. It's a little uncanny to hear that you are what servant minds require, even though you know that's not what Povralus means.

"Where can I find some of this solution?"

"I do not know. I believe that all we had here was fed to me before I was sealed away. The solution can, if properly sealed, last many, many years. So you may still find some on the island." It's a shame. You decide to hold onto your sole container of nutrients for now in case you find a starving mind. You already know of one mind you've yet to contact, and there may be more.



In a nearby room you find the skeletal remains of serviles. You're not sure if they were the serviles who originally tended Povralus or if the situation was more complex than that. Regardless, the long-dead creations have few personal effects.



The next room is much more interesting thanks to the remaining intact container within. When you use it, you find the ability to create an artila -- a special type of creation often used as ranged support.

Is the similarity to artillery coincidental? You decide.



You return to the classroom where you mercy-killed the experimental fyora. The key you took from Rawbone grants you access to the small storage room. Within is another canister. When you use it, you feel some of your weariness melt away. It's like you've gained a second wind.

We started the LP with 1 point of endurance and I added another point during a level up. Now we have 3 points of endurance and are slightly less likely to die of a stubbed toe!



In the locked storage room south of Povralus's room is a canister that gives you the power to create and fling deadly acid not entirely unlike what an artila can spit. Thinking back to the classroom, you wonder if the failed creation in the second vat you opened was meant to be an artila. You're glad you weren't forced to fight one. A little toxic splatter is nothing compared to the pain an artila can bring.





You return to Vakkiri and, for the moment, safety. You decide to try shaping an artila. Fortunately, your efforts are an order of magnitude more successful than the failed experiments you encountered in the ruined school. The artila you create is a pallid thing and slightly disturbing to behold, but you love it because it's your creation.

That's something that's been nagging at you. The serviles all have names. Rawbone even named itself. Your loyal creations deserve names more than the rogues do. It takes some effort, but you manage to teach your first four creations their new names.

Your first fyora takes to GreatEvilKing quite easily, and your second isn't any more challenged by idhrendur. You probably should have named your thahd something shorter than Xander77, but it's too late now. The Vosgian Beast emits a sputter that's almost like a purr, but you have to avoid the acrid spittle which instantly burns away the grass it touches. Artilas aren't for petting.

I named these guys before "Charmander" was proposed... Never fear, we'll create more fyoras in the future.



You stop by the shaping hall to tell Learned Pinner some of what you discovered at the ruined school, though you're not sure how wise it is to tell her about Povralus. "I've spoken with the servant mind in the school," you say, and describe much of your experiences.

Pinner thinks on this for a while. Finally, she says, "This is very strange. Usually, islands are Barred because of a rogue or dangerous creation. We serviles know that much. We have lived in fear for years of what might be lurking here. But Sucia was abandoned because something was discovered.

"There is something powerful here, so much so that your kind thought us better abandoned. Whatever it is, it must be farther to the east. There is nothing so important around here. Thank you for your help, Shaper. What you have learned will give us a measure of peace. If you want to know more about why this isle was Barred, the answers are likely elsewhere."

"While I was there, I used some more canisters that I found," you say. So far, only Pinner has seemed remotely interested in your welfare rather than in what you can do for her. That's not to say she hasn't tried to make use of you.

She inspects you closely. She walks around you, looking at you from all angles. She looks concerned. After a minute, she gets a fragment of mirror and shows you your reflection. "Look in this. What it means, I cannot say."

You look different. You look stronger and more self-assured, but strange. There is a growing confidence there, so strong as to verge on mania. The change had happened so slowly you hadn't noticed it, but it is definitely there. The canisters are doing more than granting you powers. They're changing something fundamental about your nature.

There's no point in worrying too much about it until you can identify any drawbacks. A weird facial expression or slightly off affect isn't a big price to pay for so much power. You thank Pinner and decide to head back to the bandit woods. When you explored the northern edge of the woods earlier, you think you found a path that might let you loop around and catch Ghurk and his flunkies from behind.



It's not quite as easy as that. There are servile bandits patrolling the woods, but they can't withstand a concentrated assault from your creations. The Vosgian Beast is particularly good at wearing them down. Its spittle not only melts their flesh, but often stuns them, leaving them helpless against Xander77's meaty fists.



You find their base in short order. They've collected a good number of quality javelins, healing pods, and icy crystals, which you quickly collect. The chests are full of goods stolen from the Vakkiri serviles. You even find sacks of meal. You liberate everything you can carry.

As you head south, three serviles try to ambush you from the woods. Unsurprisingly, one of them is Ghurk. GreatEvilKing turns his head into a charred lump before he even lands a blow, rendering him unrecognizable. His subordinates fall almost as quickly, though the javelin-thrower successfully hits idhrendur.



The bandits turned out to not be such a challenge after all. You return to Brodus Blade and tell him that you've taken care of Vakkiri's bandit problem.

"So you did. We sent out scouts, and the bandits are in hiding. They will not be raiding us any time soon. Thank you for your help. We of the Awakened believe that we should pay for our help, should deal with you as equals. So here is fair payment for this service." She hands you a slender wand of bone, inscribed with runes.

You take it, smoothing your thumb along the polished surface. "Have things gotten better?"

"Though the bandits are gone, the main problem remains. There are the rogue creations. They are all around. They appeared recently, mysteriously, and they plague us. Leader Khobar can tell you more about them, if you are interested."

"I've taken care of the spawner. You can ask your leader about it. Your rogue problems should be much better from now on."

Brodus Blade looks at you with renewed respect, almost as much as she should have paid you to begin with. "Is that so? You have been quite busy, Shaper. We thank you. You have been very kind."

You really have. Brodus Blade doesn't even know the half of it.



I haven't taken much time to show our progression, but we've gained five levels since setting foot on Sucia Island.

As you can see, I've mostly focused our growth on Leadership and Mechanics. These are key abilities. Leadership is used exclusively during conversations, but as you've seen, we talk a lot. Our high leadership for this early stage of the game has allowed us to free access to two extra skill upgrades (one from Dreet and one from Povralus), a higher tier key from Ellhrah (which let us get past the guard to acquire the discipline wand without resorting to sneaking or lying), and assistance from Seerula (even if she was a jerk who vanished during the big battle in Watchhill). Leadership in D&D terms essentially focuses as bluff, diplomacy, and intimidate, and vastly increases your options. It's well worth investing in regardless of your class.

I've also bumped our Intelligence and Endurance. We have an extra point in Intelligence right now thanks to the Student Belt, and we got a permanent bonus point in Endurance from the canister at the ruined school.

I've increased our Fire Shaping skill once, and now that we have an Artila, I've increased our Magic Shaping twice. I also dipped into Luck - everyone needs a little bit of that, but I won't advance that skill further until later in the game. You'll see why when we get there.

Thanks to canisters, we've got a strong firebolt, a first rank searer, strong fyora shaping, first rank thahd shaping, first rank artila shaping, the heal spell, the cure spell, and war blessing. We'll learn a shit load more from canisters in the near future.