[SD:OA] Cult Fallout - Chapter 12

In a separate layer from the world of SoulDive, a group of beings watches as various scenes flash by. One in particular noticed the wrap up on the kraken versus leviathan fight.

Akesi Waso Pali Suli, “Oh, hey! That group I saw a few months back was involved in the juvenile leviathan and kraken fight!”

Another admin looks over, “Oh yeah, I looked in on them before. They’re tagged as important to keep an eye on anyway, but seeing a leviathan fight a kraken, even if they were young specimen’s, certainly won’t lower their visibility.”

Akesi Waso Pali Suli shrugs, “Half the party is stacked with interesting types. All they’re missing is a cute mascot style pet and they might as well sell rights to their story.”

The other admin shrugs in return, “Eh, going by the evaluations, they’re in for some drama.”

Akesi Waso Pali Suli nods, “I can see that. Do you think the system will pull at the stress or try to fix things up?”

The other admin shakes their head, “Fix things? Break things? Nah, the system isn’t going to touch it with a ten-foot pole.”

Akesi Waso Pali Suli raises an eyebrow, “Are you looking at the same situation that I am? This is exactly the kind of thing it will mess around with. After all, it’s just messing with money. No need to get actors involved or anything to play out a scene.”

The other admin shrugs at that, “Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Akesi Waso Pali Suli laughs, “True that!”

-----

Silverwhiskers watches as the caravan he is in sets up for the night. So far, this trip has been peaceful enough. Just the regular attacks by monsters unable to control themselves.

And since they’re past the shortcut to whale’s island? Not a single green threat. Which was both good and bad. Mainly in that there likely wasn’t a D rank guard along with them. So good that the threat isn’t there, but bad because if one shows up, they probably won’t come out ahead.

Silverwhiskers sighs, especially with the difference between ranks. Monsters have it easy in a way. If their adult form is a Green threat, they just grow into it. Though, of course, the downside of that being their bloodline then limits them, making it near impossible to grow even further.

Though that did remind Silverwhiskers of something, “Huh, I wonder if anyone told that group about the limits at the rank divide?”

The birdkin, a gal with shockingly red feather hair and showing their connection to the robin in the styling, who was standing guard over him, despite Silverwhiskers being the stronger of the two, quirks their head. “What’s up boss?”

Silverwhiskers shrugs, “Eh, just wondering if the last group of guards I had were ever informed of the limits between ranks.”

The birdkin raises an eyebrow, “Well, if they’re anything like us, I’d guess not. Would you mind telling me what you mean by that?”

Silverwhiskers flashes an embarrassed smile, “Ah, right, I guess since I brought it up, it would be rude not to. Though it isn’t really all that much of a secret or anything. It is just a quirk of how stat ranks work.”

The birdkin gal shrugs, “Eh, seems simple enough. S at the top, then A through F. Throw in some pluses and minuses for flavor and make it based on your level. It’s a simple enough system, even for those of us not born to it.”

Silverwhiskers nods, “True, though you’re missing one detail. If each level represents an increase in what each star represents. So say at level one, an A rank body meant a score of 10. Then you hit level two without increasing the stat and you instead have a B rank body.”

The robinkin gal nods, “I know the system does everything it can to prevent such a straight stat equals number sort of comparisons, but I get it.”

Silverwhiskers spreads his hands, “Well, if in that scenario you had an F rank body with a 4 and you don’t increase your body at all during that time, what happens? Ignoring plus and minus for now.”

The robinkin frowns, “I see what you’re hinting at. There isn’t a G rank to downgrade to. Does the system pull you up or let you stay there and just keep calling it F rank?”

Silverwhiskers shrugs, “Eh, a little of column A, a little of column B. As far as can be figured, the system will boost you half what you’re missing, but that is an outside boost. So that example person at level three would still have a 4 in Body, but the system will help them a little and let them act as if their body is a 5.

“Though the system prefers to raise whatever is lowest. So if the guy can lift things alright, but has paper-thin skin, they’ll get a boost to their sturdiness instead of how much they can lift.”

The robinkin gal nods, “Okay, and I guess the rank divide is when you have to pay the piper?”

Silverwhiskers nods, “Yep, when going from one rank to the next, you need each stat to be in a place where it won’t drop below F minus when you level up. That and at least one stat needs to end up at C minus. The catch on top of the catch is that while the increase isn’t multiplicative, the difference between each stat rank increases.”

The robinkin grimaces, “Ah, so you’re going to get a bunch of average people who don’t want to do an extra set of pushups stuck at the top of each rank.”

Silverwhiskers nods, “and a bunch of fighters who never learned the first thing about magic, even warrior magic, that can’t advance.”

-----

Out on a certain island, sits a despondent krakenfolk shaman. Around him the island is washed clear, giant waves having wiped out most of the young growth with only a stand of old trees standing tall. It looks around and gets up.

There was work to do, the first of which was to handle the damn salt. The krakenfolk scrapes a series of curling symbols into the sandy loam. Utters a sibilant wailing noise. An ancient chant that calls upon powers of the deep.

Across the island, rock cairns begin to glow and spikes of salt pierces up out of the soil. An attack spell cast as a ritual and expanded such that it doesn’t work much as an attack anymore, instead now used to extract the salt from the soil. All to allow greenery to return much quicker than normal.

Once the shaman’s cries die down, forms begin to drag themselves out of the ocean. True deep ones of ancient stock. Their fish heads are that of creatures from times long past.

These beings pace across the island, collecting the salt spires, stacking them up on their backs. Their unnatural strength allows them to clear the island of the spires in a single pass.

Next, they haul out of the sea great nets of fish carcasses and a number of large mortar and pestles. Big enough that each pestle requires two of these ancient deep ones to handle. And into the mortars, the fish carcasses are dumped. The smell of rot permeates the island as all the carcasses, bones and all, are ground into a smooth paste.

This paste is then carefully mixed into the soil as the shaman casts spells of rot. Reducing the paste and any dead vegetation to a rich soil.

With that, it was all down to waiting. For the island to regrow after being devastated by the calamitous battle between the Kraken and Leviathan. For new human cultists to find their way to the island. For the next chance to raise up their great ones!

-----

Sssally’s catkin first mate is feeling a bit frustrated. “I told you, there was an island run by a Krakenfolk shaman and a Deep One bruiser.”

The sheepfolk scribe nods, “And I heard you, but can you provide any further details?”

The catkin first mate sighs, “You have transcriptions of both me and my captain going over what happened. Said transcriptions are both notarized and truth sealed. This is more than enough for the report. If anything, adding on extra information will just dilute the report.”

The sheepfolk scribbles on her notes, “It doesn’t look good that you’re not complying with my requests. This will go on the report.”

The catkin sighs again, “Show me where on the transcription that I haven’t already answered your question.”

The sheepfolk looks up, “You’ve already submitted said document and I am telling you that it is insufficient. Please answer my questions. Please comply with my orders.”

The catkin crosses his arms, “It is within my right to see what I have submitted. Bring out the two transcriptions.”

The sheepfolk shakes their head and goes back to looking at their paperwork. “Still refusing to answer my reasonable questions. This will not look good at all.”

The catkin tail flicks aggressively, “I am invoking my rights as a member of the sailors union in good standing. Show. Me. The. Transcriptions. NOW.”

The sheepfolk doesn’t even bother looking up. “Sigh, still not following orders and now threatening me? Seems like you’re in for a bunch of trouble. I’ll submit this report and we’ll just see what happens.”

The catkin’s ears lay back, “Are you set in your path? Is this really how you want to do this?”

The sheepfolk is clearly done with him and dismissively tells him, “Please leave before I call the guards.”

The catkin sighs, “Why is it always like this?”

The sheepfolk sighs as well, “Guards, please escort this man out of here.”

The two stare at each other for a few moments before the sheepfolk frowns and glances towards the door. “Guards! Please escort this man out of here!”

The catkin first mate shakes his head, “This isn’t my first time. Your goons have already been restrained and the Union’s actual guards are here. Do you have anything to admit?”

The sheepfolk frowns, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And besides, I don’t know what transcription you’re referring to as I never received it. It doesn’t exist.” And they smirk, knowing that only the first truth sealed transcription counts as future retellings can’t be truth sealed anymore.

The catkin’s tail curls and then relaxes, “Is that how you’re going to play this? You’ve committed to this?”

The sheepfolk spreads their hands and shrugs, “I don’t know what you mean.”

The catkin looks at the ceiling and sighs, “Okay, I gave you enough outs.” And he turns to the door, “Okay boys, you can take her.”

The door is opened and a bunch of tall men led by another sheepfolk walk in.

The sheepfolk enforcer looks down at the sheepfolk scribe and shakes her head, “Stacy, Stacy, Stacy. We’ve had our eyes on you for a bit now. Why? The job’s good. You’re doing good and you aren’t charmed or controlled, that was the first thing we checked for.”

Stacy the sheepfolk scribe scoffs, “You have no right to detain me. There is no proof.”

The catkin first mate shakes their head, “Didn’t you hear me when I said this isn’t my first time? While future interviews can’t be truth sealed, you can have multiple official transcripts of that first telling made. Whatever you did with the copy I gave you doesn’t matter because we have others.”

Stacy’s eyes go wide, “What? No. I would have been able to tell! I have the power. I KNOW things now!”

The sheepfolk enforcer sighs, “You aren’t that important. Beings beyond your imagination promise you power and it does so much for you! Except, why would they actually give you what they consider power?

“Eugh, it isn’t even ignorance, or at least, you can’t blame it on that. We specifically warn all union workers about this! They gave you dribs and drabs that you lapped up like it was ambrosia.”

The catkin nods, “And you haven’t even revealed any emergency powers. Did you think we let you sit there for so long just because we’re sloppy? Boys, we aren’t digging anything else out of her here.”

The four large men crowd into the room and with only a little resistance, Stacy being a bit stunned and unresponsive, they cuff her.

Stacy’s eyes go wider, “No! I was meant for greater things!”

The sheepfolk enforcer scoffs, “And you could have had that in the union. While not everyone has the drive to reach S rank, the union has resources available that can generally get you to the next rank. You just have to Work for it. Something you seem to be allergic to.

“Take her away boys!”

More Forest Or The Desert - Chapter 11

Desert Disaster Preface