Marci's Marvellous Scan-o-tron

Snow fell gentle from a dark slate sky as Marci put the finishing touches to what she was calling the 'Sonic-Scanner Mark 4:' a large, metal, trumpet-like object pointed at the ground with legs, two large resonating crystal, and hundreds of runes. It was a few days since Saoirse had returned from her mother's estate, and two days since both the succubus' mother and the other Shardkeepers had delivered a frankly mad amount of gold to Marci that she had no intention of ever paying back or honouring the terms of her receiving it.

Part of her felt delighted at having swindled so many powerful people out of their money, although that probably was at least a little the old Marci who'd not been above trickery and some light pickpocketing or prestidigitation to get money for booze, and which she wasn't supposed to be indulging anymore; part of her was terrified of the fallout when she inevitably betrayed them in defence of the South; and part of her was worried that this was exactly the kind of thing that her mother would have done.

Anke, when she had found out that Marci had managed to secure such a huge amount of 'capital,' had become very weirdly complimentary, almost flirty with Marci, batting her eyelashes and touching her arm and telling her she 'was developing a real appreciation for her.' It was not an experience that Marci had expected, or ever wanted to have again.

"Alright," said Marci, flying back to where Saoirse and half a dozen of the other demonic wizards that Marci employed were standing behind several layers of shields and an above head height (chest high for bigs) rock barrier. They'd all seen what had happened to marks one through three, and everything around them. "Lets try this again."

The other wizards cringed back, casting Laurence's Deafening Hex or, in a few cases, what seemed like a less efficient, similar curse on themselves that also made their skin turn green for a few minutes. Marci deafened herself too, and then raised her hand towards the prototype and carefully channelled some mana into the large catalyst rune.

The device lit up, and Marci looked closely at the enchanted object as it began to glow and rattle, tapping into the senses of a few more distant demons to confirm that it didn't seem to be making any audible noise this time, which was a good sign. For a few moments it began to shake more and more violently, and Marci's heart fell, expecting another failure involving the device ripping itself apart.

But then it reached resonance, and grew perfectly still as, on the side, a large glass tube began to fill with green liquid that slowly bubbled upwards, with a band of yellow appearing a moment later to indicate a different, denser material. Well, assuming it was working properly.

There were silent cheers from the assembled wizards as more and more liquid began to bubble up, showing a few different strata of material beneath, and the Sonic-Scanner continued to not rip itself apart, continuing for almost three minutes before the multicoloured bands of liquid reached the top of the phial and the machine shut itself off.

"Wow, it actually works," said Saoirse as they dispelled the curses protecting their hearing.

Marci couldn't sense the succubus anymore, or talk with her telepathically, since she had joined the small group of people—excluding the soldiers, adventurers, and Gillian in her dungeon—who weren't sworn to her. Part of Marci was sad about that, she'd enjoyed being able to chat with her friend whenever fancy took her, but before she'd severed their link she'd felt how happy Saoirse was to have her trust, which she supposed made it worth it.

"Of course it works," said Marci smugly. "The spell version did, why would an enchanted object not?"

Well, it was sometimes the case that enchanted objects that replicated spells were very hard to pull off, but it wasn't very common, and usually only for exceedingly complex magic. Marci had wanted to try and make something that the kobolds could actually use themselves to scan the sprawling valley which in large part now resembled a quarry as her employees continued to search, seemingly in vain, for the ruins of this supposed ancient city full of weapons.

"Alright, Muireann, Tuafhla and Eimhin, please do a few more tests, and if it works, I want at least a dozen more of these made as quickly as possible."

The assigned wizards, a pit fiend, an arachnoids and one imp nodded and moved off to check the device over as Marci turned her full attention to Rafferty, who she had been simultaneously started a telepathic conversation with a few minutes earlier. It was still a bit hard to focus on two totally different things happening in different places at once, but it was becoming increasingly easier: something that was useful, but concerning since that wasn't a thing normal people could really do.

'So, we will be fighting other Shardkeepers?' said Rafferty. 'How many?'

'Four, although hopefully not all at once,' replied Marci, carefully watching his emotional responses.

Remarkably, he was taking everything in a rather matter of fact way, as Saoirse had predicted. It felt very strange, especially coming from a realm where loyalty to the crown first and to fairykind second were considered not just virtues, but imperatives. But demons didn't seem to think like that, and Marci couldn't quiet figure out if that was a good or a bad thing. Was it good, in that they didn't seem to possess the same level of species-nationalism that the surface world did? Or was it bad, and an expression of how eroded their bonds of social solidarity with one another were?

'I would advise strongly against fighting more than one,' he said. 'Even a single Shardkeeper will be difficult. Their armies are significantly larger than yours, your Dark Eminence, they have entire state's worth of resources, and I know you are a skilled wizard, but they have more experience in combat.'

'Well, uh, we will be getting reinforcements,' said Marci, pausing for a moment to think of how to phrase this. 'A battalion of fairies, on loan from my mother.'

Rafferty's mind was surprised by this, and there were hints of unease at the idea, but there was also a huge part of him that seemed to be positively excited by the prospect of coming up with strategies and tactics that could be developed and deployed with a thousand of the finest aerial troops in the world.

'I see,' he replied. Several moments passed, and Marci sensed that he wanted to ask some kind of question.

'What is it?" she asked.

'Will I be placed in command?'

Fuck, Marci hadn't even thought of that. She was positive that her mother would order the battalion to swear itself to her—and to be honest, she wasn't really comfortable with the idea of having that many soldiers in her fortress who weren't mystically prevented from just smashing her Shard—but whoever the noble was who lead the legion, probably one of her cousins, would be very pissed to be taking orders from a pit fiend.

'Err, I thought I would keep the two forces under separate commands,' she said after a moment. 'There will be communication difficulties otherwise; although the wizards will all speak Infernal to some degree…'

Rafferty's mind radiated extreme disappointment. 'I suppose you are correct, your Dark Eminence,' he said, his mental voice somewhat truculent. 'But we should do joint training exercises.'

That would also surely annoy the fairy commander, but, then again, Marci had made an art form of pissing off her homelands nobility—well, her family since the highborn were all cousins of one type or another—as a teenager, so perhaps she should just resolve not to care.

'I shall begin drafting plans for fighting against other Shardforts,' he continued. 'And training your forces, including your new recruits. Although, I must reiterate that this is a most difficult path.'

'Right, just… don't let them know we're going to be fighting other Shardkeepers please?" said Marci.

One of her employees betraying her wasn't actually that easy to do on purpose, but for demons who had conditional bonds with her, it wasn't impossible, and there was always a danger that one of them might accidentally let something slip—many of them came and went through the portal room to Pandemonium or one of the other cities of the Underworld, frequented bars and shops and visited friends during their days off, and from what she understood breaking Shardbonds was a matter of intent. The fewer potential failure points in a conspiracy, the better.

'Also, ah… can you please put together some kind of dossier of everything you can find out about the layout of the Darkstar, Spear of Night, Dark Bulwark, and, um, Inferno Peak.'

This time Rafferty's mind registered more than a little shock. She could tell he hadn't really been yet considering which of the Shardkeepers she might be fighting, although that was probably because he was more focused on how to use a battalion of fairies in combat.

'Inferno Peak, m'lady?' he said uneasily. 'And… you intend to fight the other Shardkeepers… in their fortresses? That is- that is not how things are typically done. Usually, there are skirmishes at the edge of territory, sometimes a major battle that results in the loser retreating…'

Marci's real body, still kilometres away, took a deep breath.

'I intend to destroy them.'

Rafferty's mind stilled for several long moments, his deeper thoughts churning. Was this a bridge too far? Would he would reject the proposal? What was the limit of her contract with him? She'd read it, and it did have a non-disclosure section, but was that extensive enough? Could he still break it in a round about way? Would she- would she have to lock him up to protect the secret? Worse?

'May I ask why, m'lady?' he said. 'That will bring down the wrath of all other Shardkeepers—surely?'

Marci relaxed a fraction. OK, that wasn't an unreasonable question. His world had been shaped the by existence of Shardkeepers even moreso than Marci's, so of course he'd want to know why she was committing to a fundamental reordering of power.

'Shardforts are destroying this world, this planet,' said Marci. 'They're letting in cosmic horrors called the "Far Ones." That's why we're here digging up ruins, I'm looking for weapons. This all happened before, long ago, only it was the dwarves who had the Shardforts, and the world only just overthrew them and beat the Far Ones. They need to be destroyed—eventually even mine, although hopefully I can figure out a way to disentangle myself from it first.'

Rafferty chewed on this for several long moments. She could feel his mind turning over, and feel the general shape of things: there was concern, which seemed to be for the entire world; there was irritation, directed at her; there was calculation, although she could not be entirely sure what about without pushing further than she was comfortable; there was even worry for Marci, which was a little touching; and… was that respect, directed at her? Why?

'You are a very strange Shardkeeper, Dark Lady,'  he said eventually.

'Err… thanks?"

'I am most familiar with Inferno Peak, having worked there—although my old contract still limits much of what I can disclose or use from personal knowledge,' he continued. 'I will, however, gather together what information I can for you, your Dark Eminence, and draw up plans for assaults.'

Marci relaxed. She'd been very, very worried that he might turn on her, but it seemed that Saoirse was right about him. If she was honest, she didn't really get his strange brand of professional honour, but that was maybe more a failing on her part than his. 'Wonderful, thank-you, Rafferty.'

'In future, Dark Lady, I would like to be kept abreast of such matters as soon as they arise,' he said, a little bit of displeasure chiming in his mind. 'I cannot effectively marshal and command your forces if I am unaware of your strategic goals.'

'Ah, yes, right, of course,' said Marci, both relieved and a bit embarrassed. 'Sorry.'

'If I may make a suggestion, Your Malevolence, you should also tell Jolly-' he said, before embarrassment flashed through his mind. 'I, ah- I mean, you should tell Ms. Vos. I often need to work, ah, closely with her on financing and logistics. It would be easier if I could be honest with her.'

Oh. Right. Jolanda. Or 'Jolly,' apparently.

Marci hadn't really considered telling the young elven woman. Jolanda was… volatile. She clearly had some immense trauma she was dealing with in probably not the healthiest manner: a hatred for the south for what it had done to her parents that had driven her to become a demon cultist. She was sworn with an unbreakable and absolute bond to Marci, which meant that she couldn't betray her, but… well, Marci didn't want to have to use such a horrible and coercive measure against her. Beyond a few instances during battles when she'd needed to cast through someone or try to protect them, she didn't invoke her will-overriding powers.

Marci groaned and rubbed her face as her real body approached the Dreadfort. Dammit. Rafferty was right. She had to sit Jolanda down and talk to her—not just to tell her about all this, but to stop avoiding the problem and try to help her work through her issues.

Although, maybe she could delegate that to Olaf-

No. No, that was the old, irresponsible Marci who palmed off all her problems to other people. She was the new, responsible Marci, the Marci who addressed her problems and talked to those around her she cared for about their and her feelings and didn't shy away from difficult conversations even though that sucked and she'd much rather not…

Although she could probably talk to Olaf about how best to go about it. He was good at that kind of thing.

'OK, I'll talk to her,' said Marci.