Mind Games 2 (1/2)

A lone Hylt tree stood steadfast amidst the snowed-over Clattering Plains, situated south of both Fort Yimin and Bitterhold. It was once a temporary base of the Sandman during the war, as the masked mercenary had seemingly made allies with the dryad within. The plant-woman was nowhere in sight this morning, nor did it seem like she wanted to show herself. Which was a good thing, because this was the meeting spot that Boxxy and Silus agreed on six days ago. It was arguably the site of when the Republic and the Sandman first joined forces, which made it rather symbolic for what was about to happen.

Boxxy had agreed to partner up with the Foundation, as both shared the common goal of hunting down and eliminating Edward Allen before he became an even bigger threat. Both sides had to make their own preparations for the mission, so it was decided they would meet up here four days after the ‘tour’ at Bitterhold. Today was that day, and Silus had arrived to see the Sandman already waiting for him.

Except that Boxxy had brought along additional company.

“Well, this is rather surprising,” said the elf. “I was not expecting to see the Rustblood Juggernaut here.”

“Better get used to it, meatbag,” Fizzy replied in a casual manner. “I’m coming with.”

“… Could I ask why?”

“Those bastards threatened people I call friends on the most sacred day of the year. That’s already more than enough reason, isn’t it?”

“And you’re okay with the idea of working with a monster?”

“Last time I checked, golems were monsters too.”

“Well, yes, but you were a person once. The FIB already confirmed there used to be a gnome bearing your name who disappeared from the city of Erosa a month or so before you arrived here.”

“Oh? Did your research also tell you that I was unjustly imprisoned and was condemned to work like a slave to fuel the Spymaster’s ambitions? I’d probably be rotting away in a cell right now if Boxxy here didn’t free and look after me until I was strong enough to handle myself. I owe this guy my life, and I owe that dickhole Edward a beating, so I’m coming with no matter what.”

Bringing the mithril golem along and revealing her connection to both Boxxy and Edward were decisions Fizzy had made for herself. She judged that if she and the Mimic were going to continue working with the Foundation, then it was best to get this topic out of the way now, lest it become a problem later. The problem was that it somewhat put Keira’s identity at risk, which was why Boxxy didn’t want to go through with it. However, it had agreed to treat Fizzy as an equal, so it had little choice but to trust her judgement on the matter.

“Hmm, I see, so that’s what it was,” mused Silus. “The FIB always suspected there was some sort of connection between you two seeing as how you arrived in Azurvale at relatively the same time. I must say though, it bothers me that young miss Morgana is surrounded by such individuals. That girl might one day be a national treasure, so I can’t help but feel uneasy that you two have decided to get close to her.”

Boxxy threw Fizzy a look saying ‘I told you so,’ then turned its attention towards addressing the elven spy’s worries.

“Do not fret, mister Underwood. I have no intention of bringing harm to her. Just the opposite, in fact. As you said, she will one day become a national treasure. A person of power and influence. Though she herself might not appreciate such things, she will not hesitate to use them to protect those she considers allies. Especially if they were comrades she made before being thrust into the public eye.”

“I see, so you found out she was a Hero long before we did and decided to worm your way into her good graces. That’s also why you singled her out during the early stages of the war, to expedite her rise to fame. And considering that she considers you two to be reliable allies, I daresay your plan worked. I always thought you were careful and meticulous, but only now do I realize I have been underestimating you. Well played, mister Morningwood. Well played indeed.”

It would appear that little chat that Keira and Nao had in front of the FIB agent had proven to be for the best. That was the only time the catgirl had given her opinion on the Sandman to anyone who wasn’t a confidant, and the only time she used the words ‘reliable ally.’ As for Keira, she had already left the capital in secret under the guise of ‘an urgent mission from Jonathan.’ Rowana naturally raised a bit of a stink, but that elf had already been trained to accept everything her ‘lover’ did without doubt or worry.

“What about yourself, mister Underwood?” asked Boxxy. “What is warden Stain doing here?”

Just like the shapeshifter, Silus had also brought unexpected company of the female monster variety.

“Oh my, you could tell?” she cooed in response. “And here I was hoping to string you along at least for a little bit.”

At a glance the elf’s companion appeared to be a female elven agent buried underneath several layers of winter clothing. However, though it looked like some minor underling on the surface, beneath that gear was a gelatinous pink mass coated in a thin layer of fake skin. It would appear Stain was unable to morph her insides to resemble those of people. Seeing the self-proclaimed ‘slimetator’ like this made Boxxy glad it chose to become a doppelganger rather than a queen slime when it was offered the choice. Otherwise any passing beholder would immediately be able to see right through its Facade.

Not that it needed an MLG to figure out this woman was Stain. Though she wore a hood that concealed most of the face, one could still see the mismatched silver-and-blue eyes and strands of pink hair poking out from underneath. It was unthinkable that there would be two beings with that unique combination of colors. Indeed, anyone who had met the warden of Bitterhold in person - be it her real self or her paper-thin Facade - would be able to recognize her based on those features alone.

“Well, there’s no helping it now, so I don’t see a point in hiding any longer!”

“Stain, please don’t undo your disguise out here,” said Silus in a tired voice. “I would appreciate it if you acted as if you were being watched at all times.”

“Hmpf. I think someone needs some more disciplinary action!”

Those words made the elf’s face twitch for a moment, but he stood firm.

“Do something like that again, and the Foundation will reduce your wine shipments by half for the next three months.”

“Tch. Fine. Let’s just get going.”

“Going? So she’s coming with us?” asked Boxxy, its voice oozing with doubt.

“No, she’s coming with you,” clarified Silus. “Stain will be going as the Foundation’s representative. She’s been briefed about everything there is to know regarding our mole within the Gilded Hand and will use that information to help you track down and eliminate their leadership.”

“Why her?”

“The enemy has a gifted Psionic at their disposal, the most powerful one on this continent. A spy like me will just become a liability in-”

“That’s not what I meant, mister Underwood,” the Mimic interrupted. “Why would she agree to risk her life for your sake?”

“My reasons are my own,” Stain claimed. “Suffice it to say, I too have a personal stake in seeking out those naughty children. Besides, I am not ‘risking my life.’ The body you see before you is one I have specially prepared for this mission, but it is not the only one. My consciousness will live should it perish. However, that isn’t to say I will be slacking off, as it will take me a few years to completely recover.”

“Huh. I wasn’t aware something as simple as a slime could have such a convenient ability. I was certain your kind were only good for playing around with various fluids.”

“Do not lump me in with the plebeian puddles you may have come across. I am absolutely certain the only one in this world who possesses Hyper Division is me!”

“So you have an Ultimate Skill called Hyper Division, huh? Good to know.”

Silus sighed and put a palm over his face while the proud-looking overmind slime slowly realized she had given away one of her biggest secrets for no good reason.

“Come on, Stain!” the elf complained. “We talked about this! You can’t let your guard down around this guy!”

“What are the drawbacks, then?” Boxxy continued, ignoring the elf. “Does splitting your body reduce its abilities? It must be something like that, seeing as how you seem a lot more in control than you did when you met with Snack. You’re far calmer and haven’t licked your face even once. I also detected sixty eight cores floating around inside you as opposed to the seven you had back then, so the power of the body must grow in proportion to how many of those it has. You must have ‘let go’ of quite a few of your ‘subjects’ to pool that many resources into one place, though I’m guessing you have a way to reclaim them later. Otherwise you probably wouldn’t have done it.”

“Heh. To be able to determine that much about me already, you must truly be as extraordinary a specimen as I was told,” Stain said with a bemused tone.

The doppelganger’s educated guesses had all been spot on. It was no small feat to reach such conclusions, especially the parts about the prisoners. The slime’s personal brand of ‘mental conquest’ left her victims irreversibly brain dead, reducing them to literal meat puppets with the overmind slime pulling the strings. Another way of saying it would be that the soul had been evicted even though the flesh lived on, meaning that it was far too late for them to be ‘released’ from Stain’s control. The people in question were currently in a comatose state, kept alive through magic until their owner returned to reclaim them.

“I almost feel like claiming you for myself right here and now.”

Stain leered somewhat disturbingly towards Boxxy as she said that, causing Fizzy to step forward, pointing her makeshift blunt weapon at the slime.

“Try that and I will reduce you to a steaming puddle of crap.”

Miniature bolts of lightning arced out of her, melting the snow beneath her feet and causing the gluttonous goo-girl to shrink back. She was a shapeshifter like Boxxy, so it was highly likely she shared its Bane. She would therefore be unwilling to tangle with this electrified golem. Especially since she felt the presence of not one, but three distinct wills within Fizzy’s shiny head. She wasn’t sure how such a thing was possible, but she had to accept it would be immensely difficult to conquer such a mind, even with her Legendary Mentality.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I must insist we speed this along,” said Silus.

“Is it absolutely necessary we bring this… liability along, mister Underwood?”

“This is not Stain’s first mission, nor is she a stranger to armed combat. I assure you she will not be a hindrance. If anything, I’m more worried about your own companion, mister Morningwood.”

“Fizzy may not look it, but she has a good deal of combat experience already. Not to mention it would take significant effort to harm a body forged out of pure mithril.”

“I am not questioning her ability as a fighter. It’s just that it’s likely the Gilded Hand would relocate if they catch wind of our intentions, and she does not strike me as the stealthy type.”

Saying Fizzy was unsuited to clandestine operations was like saying exploding volcanoes were a bit of a nuisance. Her tread was heavy and loud, her frame was excessively shiny and her electrified bits practically glowed in the dark. Silus could see the gleam of her mithril armor long before he was able to confirm who it belonged to. Her personality was the biggest problem though, as she was the type to intentionally draw attention to herself all the damn time.

“You let me worry about that,” stated Boxxy. “I got her out here without you realizing, didn’t I?”

“Fair point,” conceded Silus. “I suppose I have no choice but to trust your judgement on this. It may not be ideal, but you and Stain are still our best bet at taking down that bastard.”

Though the Foundation’s informant helped the FIB set up a trap for the Gilded Hand’s officers, they had unfortunately failed to capture or kill any of them. They helped thin out the rogue organization’s manpower, yes, but they had shown their hand. Now that the enemy knew there was a traitor among them, it would only be a matter of time before they were exposed. It likely wouldn’t be any time soon, but it was important to move quickly while they had the opportunity.

Unfortunately, the Gilded Hand’s main base was located somewhere in the city off Watford, deep within the Empire’s territory. Neither the Republic’s Legions or the FIB could intrude on foreign sovereign soil without stating their intentions, which would undoubtedly tip off Edward’s bunch. Alternatively they could hand this information over to the Inquisition, but they seriously doubted those people would be able to do anything. Their intentions were just and their cause righteous, but their means and methods were woefully inadequate for the realm of espionage.

The Foundation couldn’t sit tight and do nothing, either. Thanks to the input of a couple of beastkin Heroes, they now strongly believed replicating the Calamity of Monotal was Edward’s end goal. Allowing any one man to hold so much power was a terrifying prospect, so this secret mission, codenamed Operation Just Cause, was authorized. The next problem was that recent events had left the Foundation severely weakened. They did not have the right ‘people’ that could pull off such a job. Nor could they seek the aid of Ranker adventurers like Hilda and Imiryl, as those public figures were no doubt being tracked by the enemy. Any suspicious movements on their part would surely compromise the mission, and that was even if they agreed to the Foundation’s dubious methods.

So, with no other options, the decision was made to send Boxxy and Stain as ‘monster mercenaries.’ It was a gamble, yes, but one that they only stood to benefit from should the shapeshifters stop that madman before he obtained a weapon of mass destruction. Even if they were to fail, the outcome for the Republic would have been no different than if the Foundation did nothing. Which, at this point, seemed like the only other feasible alternative.

All of this had been explained to Boxxy prior to today’s meeting. Though it didn’t completely trust those words, they certainly explained why the Foundation was so eager to bury the hatchet. Especially since the Sandman had shown himself to be an enemy to the Gilded Hand. It seemed the elves were thinking something along the lines of the ‘enemy of my enemy is my friend,’ which Boxxy didn’t quite agree with. In its humble opinion, the enemy of its enemy was its enemy’s enemy - nothing more and nothing less.

However, working together to take down a common adversary was something it could get behind and it really wanted Edward dead, so it ultimately agreed to have Stain tag along.

“So, what’s the plan?” the Mimic asked once Silus had left.

“For now we head towards Watford,” the slime answered. “You know where that is?”

“It’s the one that’s on the southern edge of the Oculus Sea, right?”

The sea in question was the massive body of water that took up the heart of the continent, so named after the eye-shaped imprint it left on the map. It made up the entirety of the Empire’s northeastern border, and Watford was the most infamous settlement that rested on its banks. It was rumored to be a cesspool of moral bankruptcy and a hotbed of smugglers, thieves, and slave traders. It was almost the perfect place for Edward and his cohorts to hide out in.

“That’s the one,” Stain confirmed. “You have a way to get us there quickly?”

“I do, but you’re probably not going to like it.”

The Sandman raised an arm to his side and opened up the Storage portal.

“You and Fizzy hop in here for a little while. After that I teleport us to a new position where we will wait for my MP to recover. We then repeat the process.

“Ugh, in there again,” groaned Fizzy.

“What? It’s not like you need air to survive.”

“No, but how can you behold my glorious mithril frame if I’m stuck in some dimensional pothole?”

“Don’t be like that. It’ll only be for ten, fifteen seconds at a time.”

If Boxxy had to transport the golem’s full weight, then the MP cost of the Transfamiliar Spell would nearly double. The same could be said about the slime, even though she had seemingly only sent a portion of her total biomass.

“Fine, fine,” she conceded. “I guess I’ll bear with it.”

“What about you, Stain?”

“I don’t mind so long as we get there quickly,” she replied with a shrug. “We will get there quickly, won’t we?”

“Should take about three days.”

Technically Boxxy could make it in two if it rushed, but it needed to preserve its stamina. It was also unwise to use up all of its MP in one go when dealing with an unknown quantity like Stain.

“Good enough for me.”

“Ok then, in you go, both of you. Oh, and don’t flail around in there, or terrible things might happen.”

Though it was possible for Storage to contain living things, whoever or whatever was trapped inside could easily force their way out. All they had to do to escape the pocket dimension was apply enough force to its inner boundaries. A hole would then rip open, causing Boxxy to take some backlash damage while the offending entity was ejected into the waking world. This was something it learned the hard way when it tried to confine Wardrobzilla in there, shortly before the mutated house mimic ended its life.

“I know, I know,” said Stain while waving her hand around dismissively. “This isn’t the first time part of me was stuffed in an Item Box.”

The two monstrous women entered Boxxy’s Storage. A black, oppressive void overtook them while they bumped into the various items and supplies already inside. They were released a short while later, finding themselves on the edge of a snow-covered pinewood forest about sixty kilometers south of their old location. Fizzy stepped out of the pocket dimension none the worse for wear, though the same could not be said about Stain. The slime queen had, for lack of a better word, poured herself out of the spatial distortion as her pink goo struggled to keep itself together. The gelatinous mass staid as a bubbling puddle in the frozen ground for one or two seconds before a half-elf half-slime woman rose out of it.

“Ugh, that was unpleasant,” she groaned as she continued to reconstitute herself. “What the balls did you just do? It felt like I was ripped apart into a thousand pieces and put back together.”

“Yeah, that happens with the Transfamiliar Spell,” grumbled Boxxy, who had reverted to its base Hylt creeper form. “I’m surprised it affected you inside there. Or at all, for that matter.”

“Just my luck. I’m working with an idiot who doesn’t even know how its own magic works.”