Furious Scribe
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18. Basil - Persuasion
🕑 Added 2025-06-28 23:19:42 +0000 UTC
Chapter 18
Persuasion
Hull had been here, just outside the room I was held captive in. I would have been none the wiser if not for the Master Assassin I had set to guard the entrance. The black-clad Soul had reported to me about my friend’s unexpected appearance and Felstrife barring his entry.
I wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about the news. My emotions were a muted shadow of themselves ever since Esmi’s death, but even so, there was a deep pull in me to see my friend again counterweighted by a gnawing worry that my selfish request was putting him in harm's way. That was assuming Afi had indeed decided to deliver my message; I could imagine some other possible reasons why Hull would be in the Palace, but that one seemed the most likely.
My Assassin had also overheard talk about a party being hosted this very evening by the vampires. Considering the suited one’s interest in Hull, the timing made sense, but it also gave me a great deal to consider. Would the murderous bastard see me as the reason for Hull’s arrival and thus feel inclined to give me Esmi’s card? I doubted I could expect much honor from the undead, especially him, but it was tempting to hope. What of the vampire who held Esmi’s card? Surely he would be at this party, this jubilee my Assassin had called it. If Hull attended, would he see Esmi? And if so, might my friend find some way to save her?
I ruminated on these questions and more as I went through my routine with Felstrife practically by rote. With Scrying Eye, I saw another of the lich’s cards, a flexible Spell that could be used defensively or to briefly incapacitate an enemy.
It was interesting but hardly held my attention.
I participated in her various memories, but after the second, it became clear to me that all the cards I was seeing were ones I had been shown at some point before. I had been seeing overlaps more frequently of late, which was inevitable I supposed, but this was the first time that nothing was new. When the same thing happened in the next two, my mood soured further. On the one hand, the remembered duels having nothing of value gave me more time to explore Felstrife’s other memories, to learn her secrets. However, when investigating her lichdom, I kept seeing the same images of a man in a workroom. True, he aged in them and the mixtures he used varied slightly, but that hardly gave me much to go off of. There were also memories with a girl – and then woman’s – hands experimenting with her own vials and liquids. She didn’t pour them on cards like the man did but instead a stretch of wood that would inevitably smoke and burn in different ways, and yet in none of them could I deduce precisely what she was trying to accomplish. As for a split Mind Home, it was even worse. I would just see her staring at things: a fenceline, potted flowers, a dead fox that had attracted a trail of ants, none of them able to show me what she was doing in her mind at the time.
In summation, it felt like I had hit a dead end on all three counts, with no answers or elevation in my immediate future. When I surfaced from the last memory Felstrife had subjected me to, I didn’t bother to mince words.
“I have seen all the cards you know, which means we need to change the nature of our arrangement.”
She looked at me, as if trying to determine why I might choose to lie about such a thing.
“I am sure,” I said, answering the unasked question. “Mind Trap makes me so.”
“Seersight then,” she hissed. “Use it on all the cards you have seen.”
“I can only do so once a day,” I told her, “and I already have been since we began.” I had seen some interesting permutations of cards to be sure, such as her Ice Spine Wyrm gaining a devote to deal the Wyrm’s Attack damage to all enemy Souls effect, or the Ice Spectre being able to Hunt Summoners, or perhaps most terrifying, her Reaper of Helix Relic at Legendary being able to use its 3 damage to all Souls and Summoners effect with only a focus instead of devote, and doing 5 damage as well as creating two Death Source per Soul destroyed.
As fascinating as these possibilities were, the thought of my foe having an even stronger deck than she already possessed quickly lessened the novelty of the experience.
“If that is so,” Felstrife rasped, “I will have you view the cards of some of the forces I command…” I was already shaking my heavy head, and the lich trailed off, watching me.
“Inefficient,” I told her. “How long until the survivors of Treledyne make an assault on this location? We cannot stay here forever, and who knows how long my elevation will take if I see your people piecemeal? It would be better if I went somewhere where such individuals were already collected.” Her skeletal face rarely gave much away as to what she was thinking, but her posture did, and the way she was leaning made me think she somehow knew what I was going to say next. I pressed forward nonetheless. “Somewhere like the vampire jubilee that is taking place tonight, I believe.”
The lich’s head turned in the exact direction of where my Assassin was stationed, even though the Soul should have been invisible to everyone but me. She must have an ability that let her perceive Stealth, just like that fool Plutar from Charbond had. How very annoying.
“You will never leave this room alive,” Felstrife hissed when she looked back at me.
“Then it is highly unlikely that you will ever possess the Epic version of my abilities,” I countered.
The lich glided closer to me, using the fact she could float on air to loom more than usual. “I can make peace with that.”
“Can you really? After all the time and effort you’ve put into me. Forever seems like quite a long time to regret one’s actions.” I felt completely numb as I said these things, and part of me wondered how I had ever been afraid of death. Either it would come for me or not, and I wouldn’t cower while I waited. “I’m starting to feel the pressure of elevation again,” I decided to add. It was completely untrue, but the clawed hand she had been reaching toward me froze at the words.
She stayed above me like that for a time, her one hand poised but still, and then she settled closer to the ground. “I have no time to waste at parties,” she hissed.
“Then send me with one of your Soul cards,” I said. “You have plenty who are at a high enough rarity to handle such a command.”
Felstrife considered me again, then began drawing cards, considering those too before she found one she liked, summoning it.
It was a perfectly practical choice, but seeing the frost covered summon, an idea came to me, quick as a card snapping into being. “A Mythic is good, but wouldn’t one of your Legendaries offer better protection?”
“You doubt me?” Sliver said, the voice under the hood as cold as ice.
I turned to the summon. “Your ability to kill Souls? Not at all. But it is the living we are looking to impress and dissuade.”
The Soul unsheathed his blade, an icy blue that almost glowed, and without a word my ever-present Bodyguard slid between us.
“You think to stop me little Rare?” the Mythic said.
“Aye,” was all my Bodyguard spoke in reply.
Sliver took a step toward us but then vanished into snowy motes. Behind where the Mythic had been a larger Soul was coalescing into being.
The two liches exchanged a long, bone-creaking look and then Felstrife floated off in Justine’s direction, her commands apparently in place.
I didn’t bother to savor the moment, wanting to taste freedom now that it was available to me. It was twenty paces to the nearest exit, and walking under the arch without skeletons and zombies trying to impede me, I felt like chains were being stripped from my limbs – even if my head was still weighed down by the oversized helmet. The summoned lich matched my stride, his much longer legs letting him move at a more stately pace than my eager steps. My Shieldbearer flanked my other side, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw my Assassin slip in behind us.
I was barely one hallway away when I ran into none other than the pale woman who I had made a deal for Esmi’s body with. The two day limit had passed yesterday as far as I could tell, and the fact that the necromancer hadn’t reappeared since our first interaction had been yet another worry weighing on me.
“There you are,” I said by way of greeting.
“I’ve been worked to the bone,” she huffed, as if I cared about her trials in the slightest, “and could only now get free. What are you doing walking the halls? Are you mad –”
“Nevermind that,” I snapped. “Is Esmi’s body safe?”
She sucked in a breath. “Perhaps,” she eventually said, which I growled in response to, sounding like Hull. “Do you have,” – her eyes flicked up the lich summon beside me – “an answer?”
“I do,” I lied for the second time in a short span. How easy such things were when so many of my feelings were deadened stumps. “But I want confirmation first that her body is intact.”
“Pff,” she near spat. “You have no such leverage. Tell me now or –”
With a mental command, my Master Assassin slipped behind her and slid a dagger against her throat, which cut her off mid sentence. Such a reaction told me she had few cards in her Mind Home, maybe none at all.
I stalked closer to the woman. I didn’t have the height someone like Felstrife possessed, but the necromancer still flinched back from me.
“For your sake,” I said, speaking quietly, “Esmi’s body had best be in pristine condition. If anything untoward has happened to her, I will kill you. And I promise it will not be slow.”
“You’re a prisoner,” she sputtered against the knife.
“Do I look like a prisoner to you?”
I held her eyes for another moment while deciding on my next move. It was doubtful that my Lich escort would let me go anywhere but to the jubilee, so when I had my Master Assassin release the necromancer, I said. “You will take my Rare Soul with you to show him the body. Once I have word that it is safe, I will provide you with the information you desire.”
The woman was rubbing at her throat, staring back and forth between me and the masked Rare. “There are necromancers all throughout the lower levels with the bodies awaiting resurrection. I can’t be seen with some unknown Order Soul.”
“Don’t worry, he is quite good at hiding.” Still she hesitated, so I said, “If you prefer, I can kill you now and have him find the body on his own.” I wasn’t entirely sure the Lich would let that happen, but the Legendary had been an impassive observer thus far, so he very well might.
She stiffened, looking at me with abject hatred, but I saw more fear than fight in her before she hurried away, so it didn’t concern me. I nodded to my Assassin, and he quickly set off in pursuit, his cloak billowing behind him.
That done, I turned to my remaining Souls. “Come on. We have a party to crash.”
Comments
Sharrif
I love that Scribe didn’t make Esmi’s death the direct reason that Basil is growing, but also still made her death meaningful and a domino falling towards his growth trajectory. It’s a fine line between natural progression from dealing with the consequences of death and loss, and a character being pointlessly fridged, and I think Scribe weaved the line fairly well here!
yosef melul
Tftc, finally Basil is nutting up
iridium248
He's out of fucks to give. What does he have to lose? He has two death sentences on his head, his fiancee is dead, and his best buddy is in trouble. It's really just a matter of what gets him first.
Death56
It's interesting how much this has changed him it's almost a 180 compared to how he was before
