Post by Lyyia on Feb 20, 2016 1:03:06 GMT
The beginning.
It was late one evening as a brown wolf was darting here and there for simple supplies. Mainly ingredients that could be found in a wolf body. He stuffed each ingredient into his satchel, before purchasing a book from an old witch who had a missing arm and her face was a bit mangled. Her story was simply: Raise a fake existence and pay the price. He never heeded her warning upon the purchase of this book. "Use the book and life will spring forth, but will come back to erase you from this plane of existence." This brown wolf was part of a cult who practiced dark magic. He had an experts title, and he was one of the few leaders that ran the cult. An Exaltar, what the leaders were called, had requested that he make something he liked from another realm. Though this something would not be easy to create.
He had just gotten to his laboratory when his assistant came to tell him the Exaltar hopes for the best outcome of this "experiment." The ingredients were written down, or engraved in stone, all in order of use. The only thing he needed was a drop of blood and he could create what he wanted. He cleaned his table tops, and organized his old equipment and gear. All habits he had made for himself before leaving his laboratory for the night. As he left his assistant finally spoke her mind. "Uhm...I do not think this is a good idea." she said. "I can't exactlly refuse a fellow Exaltar." he replied. They went down the stairs that lead to the upper level laboratory on the outskirts of the city. He couldn't tell if his assistant didn't want to dabble in magic or alchemy anymore, but it seemed more like she just didn't want him to create this thing for his fellow leader. As they reached the bottom of the stairs he looked at his assistant, who looked at him and parted ways with him.
In this era the social classes were heavily split. There was a large gap between the two, a void that could not be taken out. The poor could not become rich, and the rich could lose everything and fall to the status of a poor fellow, unable to return to his happy home in his mountain of cash. In the cult, however, the social class gap did not exist. The rich and poor worked together to create a status that was the middle class. However, all attempts they made were struck down by the "god" of the wealthy civilization.
The brown wolf woke up early the next morning in his home made of gold. His bed was laced with silver and bronze with an accent of copper. A few diamonds also made their appearance on many of his accessories such as necklaces, earrings, and even his candle holders. His bedroom was sparse and contained nothing but a bed and a large closet. The floor was a polished granite, separated in small tiles with a Lapis Lazuli border. Instead of dressing for a casual stroll, he took his lab coat and glasses and walked out the door of his bedroom into a large dinning room which was also sparse. A large table lay in the middle of it, only one vase of flowers was placed on it, and the flowers were dyed black. One of his few maids shuffled her way quickly in the room with a breakfast for her master. She placed it quickly and quietly at his favorite spot at the table and lifted the silver cover off the plate. The food was a steamy pork steak, glazed with the city's favorite: honey. It was an odd mix, Meat with a sugary glaze. The brown wolf sat at his seat and proceeded to eat his breakfast before cleaning off his face and heading to the door. Before he touched the door, he placed an envelope on a table near the door and exited.
Later that day he had successfully mixed together the ingredients he had bought the day before. He pricked his paw pad and let the blood drip into the mixture. He went and looked back at the book that was seated at an angle on a stand. His eyes glazed over the words to see if he did anything wrong or missed something. He made a happy nod as he took the mixture and walked to his lower level Laboratory where he placed the mixture in a large tank. He stood in a very specific spot before he did the final step: Activation. He concentrated long and hard into this spell he learned only the day before. At first his paws became surrounded in a dark cast, but as time went on it engulfed his all 4 limbs and created a technology based pattern on his body before it all ended at his eyes. He opened his mouth and said the phrase written in the book he bought. "I swear to let this creation live at the cost of suffering an injury." What the book meant was if he activated this mixture he would suffer from something missing on his own body. He had agreed to this. The spell threw him into a dark dimension where a fuzzy white outline approached him. "Welcome to your societies creation. I will be taking the toll now." it echoed in the brown wolf's own voice. The fuzzy outline lurched forward and stole from the brown wolf, a limb. "A limb for a soul." it said before throwing the wolf back into his reality. He laid on the floor now covered in blood and with a missing leg. He sat upright and looked to see that his mixture was floating in the tank. He smiled weakly and got up, though unstable. The dark cast had faded from his body but left singe marks. He limped his way to a table where one of his hired nurses took care of the wound and bandaged it. After that he took some pain medicine and left for his upper laboratory to look back at the book.
Now at his book he was reading the rest of it. He mumbled as he read. "Requires at least 1,000 bodies for full formation..." he mumbled. "Ah, looks like I will have to get the poor ones from the lower class. Maybe ones with no job? Or the ones with no children?" he mumbled aloud. His assistant appeared at the laboratory door, she gasped as she saw his missing arm. "You said it didn't you? You payed the toll?" the brown wolf looked at his assistant. "Yes, I payed the toll with my arm. I also need something from the lower class." The assistant made a curious face. "You never asked for anything of the lower class, and provided you in front of the book, is it people?" The brown wolf nodded."Yes."
Months later the brown wolf's lower laboratory was installed with holding cells and were filled to the brim with lower end wolves. Ones with no job or money and ones with disabilities. "Gore, are the preparations complete?" he asked in a stern tone. He was being charged with suspicious experimentation at this time. Gore looked at her master. "Yes, Chevor." she replied. "Then we begin today. Take the ones in nearest holding cells and bring them to the tank. Send them in one by one, don't overload the mixture." he said as he limped off for the tank to see the progress. Once there he looked at the mixture and the tank. The Tanks glass was already being covered in small spurts of blood. He smiled and looked behind him to see Gore collecting the first holding cells "ingredients."
The victims screamed and yelled until they were told, if they went into the tank they would be granted freedom from the curse of a mortal life. With this they freely ran into the tank only to meet their demise.
(more to come)
