CoJoGo
patreon
Ch 27: Transformation
🕑 Added 2024-11-21 17:41:27 +0000 UTC\.,., Bertrand ,.,./
It had been two days since the RV convoy had left through the wooden fortress's front gate.
Bertrand wanted to approach the fortress then, but instinct told him the timing wasn't right.
Bertrand was an accomplished man. He had escaped the mediocrity of his family, attended a mostly-prestigious university, and used his innate sense of timing to succeed in business, and in life. He had a knack for knowing exactly when to push to close a sale, or when to advance or break a relationship. His sense of timing also helped him - later in life - to know when to run for local office. Throughout his life he built and bought what could only be described as a small fiefdom - where he ran his town's politics and owned most of the businesses. His sense of timing even told him when he should start a family - and when he could start taking mistresses.
So when the world awakened, he listened to his sense of inner timing again, and was the one to claim his beacon. He'd named it Bertland, after his son's nickname for his home office - which was still better than the town's original name. But - Bertrand had reasoned - if he could own one beacon, why not two? He couldn't be mayor of two towns, but he could be governor over a multitude.
So he sent his people out to 'discover' the wonders of their changed Earth. Surveyors flowed out of Bertland like an open faucet. They blanketed the area, killed beasts, and discovered peculiar geography that mixed the old world with new landscapes. Bertrand's area map steadily grew - and so did his surveyors.
Through killing beasts - the surveyors had gained the strength of bodybuilders and the finesse of acrobats. One of his most loyal men had senses so acute, Bertrand could whisper across a room and the man would hear it. Bertrand wanted those gifts - after all, a governor always needed power. He made his first kill surrounded by his guards, without his skill. Two bullets brought it down - and Bertrand felt something... new. He'd watched the light die out from the creature's eyes, and swore he could feel the thing's energy become his own. It was stunningly beautiful - a transformation, where one light died out to empower another.
He wanted to feel it again.
Bertrand diligently helped his people kill the remaining beasts in their immediate surroundings. Then he pushed them to explore further. Many of his surveyors never returned, but those that did were making truly interesting discoveries. One found an abandoned gun store that let them equip nearly every person with a firearm. Another located a museum - which just so happened to have a set of plate armor in Bertrand's size. Ten days after the awakening, the real prize was discovered. Only a day's walk away, there was a high-security prison - with a beacon.
Bertrand wanted their beacon in a way he couldn't describe. He wanted to grow his influence and his power. But his people were still reserved and timid. It was their first contact with another group post-awakening, so he played to their sensibilities. A representative was sent to talk trade and alliance.
His envoy met the prison's leader, and dutifully did his job. Not the work of trade agreements - but of mapping out the settlement's layout, and gathering information on its people. In an unsurprising outcome, the prisoners had killed the guards, and one particularly violent individual was in charge of the settlement. Bertrand made sure to pass that bit of knowledge around to his people. It worked to stir unease in the town - unease that Bertrand could transform to violence. He just needed a sacrificial pawn.
He sent his newest mistress as the next envoy to the prisoners. She wasn't exactly beautiful, but she was a good-looking young woman. It would have been nice to keep her around for his entertainment, but he took comfort in knowing her end would further his goals. He sent three guards with her - two useless imbeciles and one of his true followers.
His plan worked. Only the one good guard made it back - and the... unfortunate fate of the second envoy and her other two guards was passed through the town. The story stoked the growing fires of resentment. Bertrand gathered his people, and whipped that resentment into a sense of righteous fury with a single, impassioned speech. The crowd gathered their guns and ammunition - and set out to march on the prison. The most difficult part of the entire ordeal was getting his people to wait for the right moment to launch the actual attack.
When they finally laid siege to the settlement, the prisoners were slaughtered and the beacon was his. Two discoveries that day solidified Bertrand's path.
First was the slaughter. Killing beasts gave everyone a decent amount of experience, but it paled in comparison to the experience they earned by killing other humans. Where a level 1 beast might net them anywhere from 1 to 5 xp, a level 1 human rewarded them with 100 xp. Bertrand reveled in the discovery - and the feeling. Killing beasts felt wonderful. But when a person's dying light transformed into his power - Bertrand felt divine.
The second discovery happened when Bertrand touched the beacon - and gained a quest from the system itself.
Conqueror - Acquire control of new Beacons to grow Bertland's influence (1/3)
Those discoveries made the truth of the new world clear. The system wanted them to kill, and it wanted Bertrand to conquer. He was only happy to oblige. He built a core force of warriors that shared his mindset on conquest and death. His surveyors found more beacons - and his army marched out to bring them under Bertrand's control. He spent weeks in a cycle of discovery, slaughter, and growth. When days passed without a new beacon to conquer, Bertrand advanced by transforming the weak.
There was so much beauty in the transformation. A level 2 sweeper, or cook, or cleaner was nothing on their own - but they could become Bertrand's strength, through death. He picked from the old, the weak, and the listless. The system even gave him a skill perfect for his needs.
-
Puppeteer [Uncommon]
Scales with level. Exert physical control over lower-leveled living beings in near proximity. Advanced practitioners can more easily take and exert control. Highly advanced practitioners can control more than one being at a time.
-
The skill took a bit of trial and error, but Bertrand had learned to grab control of someone from over 30 feet away. He'd learned how to make people walk without falling - and learned that he needed to make them breathe while he exerted control, or they'd suffocate. With his skill, he'd been able to make the town's dregs walk to his doorstep. It was perfect.
His last one - already three days ago - was an old, frail man he'd seen at the post office a few times before the awakening. The man had received a skill for making tea, of all things - and reached level 7 through brewing and serving. Tea would never win a fight or grow an empire, so Bertrand selected him. When he puppeted the man, he had to learn another new quirk of control - how to keep someone upright while they walked with a cane. That old man's transformation had been a brilliant, euphoric event - one that pushed Bertrand to level 12 and cemented his status as the strongest amongst his men.
Even with his newfound power and skill, the thing that set Bertrand apart was his innate sense of timing. He knew the right moment to approach a settlement, and the right time to attack. He knew when to push for capitulation, and where to pretend he was interested in trade. His latest quest was to take over beacons while only killing up to 40% of the settlement's population. His sense for timing had already helped him figure out the perfect time to strike once, and he'd taken hostages to force the rest to turn over control. He was about to enact the same plan again. All he needed to do was make a show of force, then use trade talks to get access to the settlement. From there, he could figure out which people he could use for leverage - and where the beacon was.
"It's time to advance." He announced. To his right, his scout's eyes focused on the structure and the small fight taking place there.
"Bert, those things look nasty as hell. Only headshots are putting 'em down. They've got high walls and heavy hitters. If they're not struggling, we can't be saviors. We might be better off picking a different target."
Bertrand snorted. "No, now is the right time. You saw the caravan they sent out. I need to make contact with them before their scavengers stumble on one of my towns. It's time to show our power, and talk trade. I'll convince them to let us camp inside the walls, and the beacon is as good as mine."
Another lackey, as large as a bull, chuckled from his other side. "Bertrand the magnanimous, come to transform another weary settlement. You are a bringer of light, boss."
--
+ Reid +
Shouts, magic, and salamander screeches filled the warm afternoon air.
Reid paced the battlement with a frown. He pulled down the hood of his blood-tinted poncho and ran a hand through his hair. Wave 29 was on them, and Reid was doing his best to not kill anything.
It wasn't his first choice. He had a long way to go before he would hit level 10, and while 'getting to double digits' was unlikely to actually change his situation, he was hopeful that something would come of it. But he held back - for Marlene and for the future of their campground. She had asked him for a simple favor - help the rest of the defenders get stronger. Instead of 'hogging' half of the wave like he normally did, Reid tried for nonlethal throws that would cripple the beasts.
Marlene was right, of course. If they could get their people stronger, the defending force of Sanctuary would truly transform. The waves weren't stopping - which meant everyone desperately needed to get stronger. Reid also wanted to be able to join Sara on the scavenger runs - and for that to happen, he needed the defenders to be capable of resisting a wave on their own. Another reason danced in the back of his brain. He needed the defenders to be able to protect the camp if Reid dropped dead. Susan's inspections were still showing that the cancer was still there - though it neither grew nor shrank.
So Reid had set up their residents for a transformative wave by offering them 'easy' kills. Nearly the entire wave had been crippled by his stones. Reid only killed two salamanders - and only because they'd started to damage the walls. The rest were penned in and peppered by the defenders until they fell, and the group was making good work of the beasts. Soon enough, only four salamanders remained, and James called for the defenders to switch to the new end-wave tactic.
It was both a plan and a test, where the most inexperienced fighters would attempt to finish off the final beasts. The plan was the newest members of their fighting force would gain combat experience, and much needed experience points. The test was all about the length of time between waves.
When they finished fighting off a wave, Marlene got the prompt to pick the next quest. But that prompt always waited until the current wave was finished. Reid had tried to game the timers back in wave 26, when he chopped the limbs off the final salamander, then kept it alive. But the system seemed to recognize that the threat was gone. After a few minutes of the beast struggling on the ground, the defense quest was counted as completed, and the timer started counting down. Reid hoped the same thing wouldn't end up happening with the new tactic.
The newbies were inexperienced. They'd struggle, even to kill the wounded beasts. So it stood to reason that the system might recognize the wave still 'posed a threat'. Reid put his hands in his pockets and crossed his fingers.
The inexperienced defenders entirely missed most of their shots, throws, and magic attacks. The more experienced defenders cheered them on all the while, and erupted in celebration when one teenager put an arrow directly through a salamander's eye. The rest of the newbies sent attacks at the final three salamanders with a renewed effort, but hadn't managed to kill any more of the creatures. Meanwhile, the salamanders had regrown most of their limbs, and were starting to advance on the wall.
As Reid walked back towards his rock pile, a commotion sounded out from the forest. Shouts drifted in on the wind, indistinct but full of vigor.
A group of nearly a hundred men broke out from the tree line - and charged the Salamanders. They held a mix of makeshift weapons and metal blades, and some had magic concentrated in their hands. A few wore actual metal armor, but most were in plain clothing. Regardless of their garments, Reid knew these people had not fought salamanders. No one who had done so would willingly charge them in an open field - with any number, even if the beasts were wounded.
Reid added his voice to the growing group of defenders shouting for the new arrivals to turn back, but it had no effect. The three salamanders turned, and rushed towards the new source of prey. James swore and grabbed a battery-powered bullhorn. It whined when he thumbed the power on.
"Stay back - these are dangerous beasts! They won't go down unless you destroy the brain!"
The approaching group continued their charge. Reid watched the salamanders close the distance, and winced. Most of the men's magic spells were shot too late, and didn't do nearly enough damage. The salamanders advanced into the men's ranks, and crystal claws tore through blades, bats and shields. The newcomers screamed as they took injuries, and lost limbs.
Reid was about ready to jump down and help them when the tide of the fight changed.
A black-haired man in polished full plate armor sauntered towards a salamander. As he neared the thing, the salamander froze, and the men close by shoved swords into its eye sockets. It fell to the ground, limp. A second salamander froze when he neared it - and the surrounding men took that one down in short order as well.
The final salamander froze as he approached, and the surrounding men all backed away. The black-haired man produced a sword from his back, swung straight down at the salamander's skull - and jumped back as the impact bent the blade. He eyed his weapon for a few seconds and tossed it aside. Then he pulled off his gleaming gauntlets and threw them into the dirt.
The man balled a fist - and killed the last salamander by punching through its skull.
