The Mook Maker

Hearing about the deaths of another two random human beings should have upset me, but it didn’t. Not as much as it should, at very least. 

 

Being informed by Tama post-fact differed from witnessing it myself.

 

It was regrettable, tragic even, but with little of the immediate trauma as the previous encounters had been. It was much more impersonal this way, akin to watching the television or reading the newspaper, or the past events quickly dulled me to this to a certain extent.

 

I wasn’t even angry at Helmy. 

 

I was, however, quite agitated, knowing that all the effort I made would likely come in vain. At the very least, it created another problem. One I would be forced to work on, and keep constantly in mind. Instead of grief, or shock, it created this feeling of a tide of unceasing amounts of tasks put in front of me, and what was once a traumatic event turned more into the stress of overwork. It certainly felt this way.

 

“Could you order Helmy and the group with her to stay back and not attack more humans?” I said to nobody in particular, “I need to think it through.” 

 

“Yes, Master.” Was the answer. It didn’t matter that much who responded. As far as I understood, it was a mixed group out there anyway, and considering how I thought they communicated, it was rather unimportant who received the message as long as they got it.

 

With no more words, I quickly retreated to the hut we used as the home for the night, and sat down on the bedroll spread here, massaging my temples and thinking.

 

The prospect of making peace with the natives was slipping away from my grasp, and the lack of control over the events was suddenly more important than mourning senseless deaths and violence. 

 

Once again, I felt I should come up with an immediate, thorough solution. 

 

I didn’t have one.

 

My monsters despised humans and were never hesitant to kill anyone and everyone they perceived as a threat. The potent emotions, like the such hate likely was, were bound to linger, and trying to order the feelings itself away would be foolish, if not straight away absurd.  

 

I never expected them to be truly slaved to my will either, so it wasn’t like I could consider it betrayal or insubordination. A small group simply departed to establish the watch post in the direction I overlooked, ran into humans, and killed them before I even asked them to snatch the tools and seeds we needed from outlying villages without slaughtering everyone inside.

 

Rather than acting on technicality, and deliberately twisting the command, I assumed it was their natural misanthropy mixed with the lack of empathy towards humankind. 

 

Which means they would do it again, without even realising it might be wrong. They didn’t consider it such, and eventually, it would turn into something so meaningless it wasn’t worthwhile to inform me. 

 

If I wanted to stop them, I would have to keep a close watch. It was impossible to keep track of where my monsters were, and what they were doing, considering their rapidly rising numbers, and the growing distances involved. 

 

“Overview.” I whispered. 

 

The screen came up, as always.

The Master
<The Root of All Evil, level 4>
Skills	<Scorched Earth lvl.22>
	<Slayer of Men lvl.23>
	<Great Devourer lvl.12)
	<Green Hell lvl. 37>
Units (Active)	Tama, The Purifier Alpha
	Miwah, The Eviscerator Alpha
	Narita, The Defiler Alpha
	Mai, The Corruptor Alpha
	144 * Purifiers
	28 * Named Purifiers
	140* Eviscerators
	40* Named Eviscerators
	45 * Defilers
	8* Named Defilers
	37* Named Corruptors
	141* Corruptors
Units (In queue)	<None>

 

“Unit tracking?” I tried. 

 

Unsurprisingly, there was no reaction. The system reacted to only a handful of words, and wasn’t exactly clandestine in what was done. I kept trying. 

 

“Map? Strategic overlay? Locate units? Strategic view?” 

 

Still zero effect. The status, or rather overview, screen cared only about the numbers of the unit, not about tasks they were assigned, or where they were doing at the moment.  

 

“Locate Helmy? Message Helmy? E-mail?” I tried increasingly random keywords that might help me interact with this nebulous system, provide me with answers or solutions I needed, but no joy. I was about to give up, but then I got a rather silly idea. 

 

“Ping Helmy.” I murmured, almost certain it would be equally useless, but this time, something changed. 

 

The screen flickered. Only slightly, with no additional information being displayed. It was the same status screen, with its monochromatic dullness, but this time, there was a reaction, albeit a slightly unusual one from what I would expect from something that normally manifested in terms of stats and skills. 

 

Instead of some useful arrow, a compass, a mini-map, there was this strange sensation I couldn't even describe, yet was very much there. It was a longing that drew me to a single place. 

 

It was shocking, as it was abrupt, and then, before I tried to speak, or think of the message, it was gone as quickly as it appeared. 

 

What remained was this strange psychic afterglow, an urge, a compulsion, and perhaps an alien idea creeping into my brain - there were so few of us, they were so alone out there, more of us should be made, it insisted. 

 

I shook it off. 

 

Still, with mild curiosity, I tried the logical next step. 

 

“Ping Purifiers.” 

 

I came to regret it immediately. The feedback was no longer subtle, but magnified proportionally to the number of monsters present, and as the screen helpfully suggested, there were more than a hundred of them. Many of them were close, and as with any other signal, it was stronger, closer than one was to the transmitter. Being surrounded by a relevant type of monster meant the intensity of the sensation was something akin to standing next to the gong being hit.

 

Albeit briefly, recovering was notably more difficult, especially if the reply led to a lot of foreign ideas swarming my brain. 

 

Trying to direct my attention to something else helped - and amid the struggle to get my thoughts straight, I picked out the fact that numbers on the screen were wrong. I had far too many ‘Purifiers’, if there was an upper limit, I should hit it already. If I recall correctly, the limit used to be 40 when I was last time hit with the naming spree. Following this logic, I should be stuck with 80, yet...

 

There were also more ‘Corruptors’ too.

 

If I name one more ‘Purifier’, I shouldn’t be getting any more of them.

 

Spawning more monsters, it was exactly what this invasive compulsion wanted, to drown any opposition in the flood of fur, claws, and exotic powers. 

 

I rocked my head to get rid of the thought. 

 

Whatever the strange ‘ping’ should be for, it obviously served no purpose in communication. Perhaps it wasn’t supposed to. 

 

I could assume it was what ‘Alphas’ were better at handling, as despite me not knowing the details, it was apparent that they could communicate much better than the ‘ping’. 

 

Although it might help should we ever be separated, managing the growing menagerie of monsters would have to be delegated. They could communicate more complex concepts. It didn’t really help to mitigate what happened with the random group encountering the perceived enemy.

 

Even in the times of radio, skirmishes happened between the opposing forces even after armistices were signed, and in the best-case scenario, Tama’s ability to relay orders to Helmy was roughly the equivalent. 

 

It didn’t matter that much, there was no treaty to violate here. There might never be one, considering the language barrier. 

 

As much as it seemed they were undermining my attempts to make peace with the natives, it was just likely that the locals would fight us, even without these two killings. The memory of me being attacked by those five men, even as my creatures stayed hidden, came back, reminding me that not making aggressive moves wasn’t a guarantee of success. 

 

I wasn’t very confident in my diplomatic skills, either. 

 

And then, there was this underlying, treacherous idea in the back of the mind that said that maybe, only maybe, the humans were at fault. Perhaps they attacked first and were to blame. 

 

I shook my head, trying to remind myself I shouldn’t think the way my monsters did. Or should I? 

 

Or maybe it was the other way around - who wants to be with wolves, has to howl together with them, after all. 

 

My introspection about metaphorical wolves was interrupted by the embrace of Miwah, a more literal wolf, albeit anthropomorphic and feminine. I wanted to shake it away, in my frustration, but I didn’t. It helped to calm me down, even if she still wore her armour.  

 

I was so submerged in thoughts I didn’t notice that my ‘Alphas’ gathered around, all four of them. 

 

Tama leaned close once again.

 

“You called, Master?” she said in a flirty tone. 

 

“You felt that?” I queried. 

 

“Yes. It seemed you were lonely, Master..” She added, her muzzle close to my face, her clawed fingers gently touching my face. I let her, initially, but in the end I turned her down.

 

“Please sit down. I want to talk about our plans.” I said. 

 

She did. Though both she and Miwah remained affectionately close to me, which used to make me feel slightly awkward. I was quickly getting used to it as one of their many distractive quirks now. 

 

Mai and Narita didn’t pay much attention to it, and simply sat down too, but at least those two kept a more friendly level of distance. 

 

“I wanted to make peace with the locals.” I said in all honesty, there was no point in not being blunt with them. “But Helmy’s killing another two of them didn’t quite help…”

 

I paused, “...we still don’t have any other choice than trying to steal tools, seeds, and plants from them to set ourselves up there. Which would count as an attack, anyway. But we have to reason with them…” 

 

It was probably best to break it down for them.  

 

“You can’t trust humans, my Master!” Mai protested.

 

“No, I don’t. I do not know how to deal with them.” I admitted. Without even the basis of the language, no vocabulary, or relevant information, and without truly understanding the very basics of their culture, it was just a guessing game. A deadly guessing game at that. 

 

“Kill all the human-things!” Narita offered. 

 

“We can’t do that. We only fought small groups of them. Should they muster a larger force, we will be overwhelmed.” I tried to reason. Somewhere deep inside my brain, the nagging after-effect of the ‘ping’ brought the desire to expand the army of monsters, to spread and multiply. 

 

Attack them before they attack us, it whispered.

 

I tried to ignore it, trying to be mechanically rational in my approach. 

 

“That’s the problem.” I said, “We have to agree with one plan, and stick to it, as I rely on you to take care of the execution, as I can’t be there. You can guide your kin out there, and convince them to minimise the killings if there is still a hope for peace. Or at least, there won’t be a knee-jerk reaction from them.” 

 

“Yes, Master.” They acknowledged with a nod. 

 

“Is the village Helmy found even worth saving reputation with?” I asked. It was a rather rhetorical question, as I was almost certain what their answer would be, and continued, rephrasing the query: 

 

“Does it look important? Valuable? Is it where the road heads to?” 

 

They couldn’t understand the value of human life, but they were intelligent, and could calculate what was beneficial for us. This was likely how they thought, and it was how I should present it to them. 

 

“No, Master.” Tama replied, “It is on the mountain slope off the main paved road. It is certainly larger than this place. Its buildings are much better, and they are established fields with the crops you wanted.”

 

“It is on the river spring?” 

 

There was a stream nearby, and water had to come from somewhere. If locals attempted to dam the river upstream, they would either deprive us of water if we stayed here, or cause flooding. 

 

“We are not sure, Master.” 

 

“And no other people defending it?”

 

“No, Master. We didn’t see any armed guards.” The vixen shook her head. 

 

I regretted asking. 

 

It meant that it was a potentially vulnerable target, and she wordlessly suggested we should press the attack on it while my monsters were at their doorstep. I was very hesitant to change my previous decision.

 

“If we set out right now, could we reach it before sunset?” I asked. I was almost tempted to talk with them in person even if I was still far from understanding, let alone mastering, the local tongue. Then, I wasn’t sure what I would do afterwards, as the more conventional methods of communication failed consistently so far. 

 

Although, should they prove hostile, it would motivate my monsters to torch the place, so walking up there with hands in the air wasn’t exactly a clever plan either. 

 

“It would take at least a day to reach it if we travelled in a large group. Helmy ran through the night to get there.” Tama explained, and then, being herself, added in a slightly sultry and suggestive tone: “And that would take valuable time off other things.”  

 

I overlooked that later part of the answer and focused on the former. 

 

“And the settlements on the other side of the forest?” I gestured mildly in the direction from where we originally came from. 

 

“A group has already set out, and will reach it early at dusk tomorrow. The necessity to take the money along is the source of the delay.” Miwah answered. 

 

“No humans encountered and killed yet?”

 

“No, Master.” She confirmed.

 

I muttered in acknowledgement and thought that at the very least, this part of the plan could be salvaged. Since we sat, both literally and figuratively, on the only line of communication between two places. While it meant that we were surrounded by potential enemies, it suggested that Helmy’s actions against one settlement had little to no effect on others. 

 

“So, I would like to have ‘Eviscerators’ carry out the raid without showing themselves, then retreating with the goods, leaving the money as we originally planned. If Eviscerators can see in darkness, and are invisible, locals will be none wiser. Can you make sure they don’t kill anyone?” 

 

“Yes, Master.” The werewolf answered. 

 

“I trust you.” I said and petted the canine monster lovingly, almost forgetting I was dealing with the serious matters here. She welcomed it. 

 

However, I was still not ready to howl with my wolves in that capacity. 

 

“Helmy would like to prove her love for you too, Master.” Tama interrupted and pulled herself closer. Flirty as always, she added: “So do I.” 

 

“There are Corruptors with that group?” 

 

“Yes, my Master.” Mai answered

 

“Defilers?” 

 

“Yes-yes, Master. One.” Narita said, with a hasty nod. 

 

“Pull out and make a hideout in the forest, dispose of the bodies. If humans don’t know we are here, hide if they search for their missing people. Don’t kill anyone else.”

 

 “Yes, Master.” 

 

Their acknowledgement might not extend to the last part, though. 

 

“Do you think you can do it? The fewer humans know we are there, the better.” 

 

“Yes, Master.” Tama confirmed, and true to her usual self, added: “For you, anything.” 

 

I glanced quickly at Narita and Mai. They both agreed too. 

 

“Very well then.” I said and was almost tempted to steal from the village immediately, but opted against it, knowing I could do it almost any time as long as they lurked nearby, preferably at night. Of course, at the risk that my monsters wouldn’t be able to resist the opportunity to pick a fight with the locals. 

 

“We will wait for tomorrow there, or at least for the night.” I said, “Mai can instruct both groups what to snatch from the fields too.” 

 

“Yes, Master.” 

 

“I can try to talk with the prisoner again…” I mused, and was almost going to jump up, rush to facilitate another disorganised attempt to get the grasp of the local language, then stopped myself. If I was considering all the delegation, the ‘Alphas’ were as capable as I was in that regard.

 

“No.” I said, mostly to myself, and then added: “Narita, would you be willing to talk with the prisoner yourself and try to learn their speech?” 

 

“Yes-yes, Master.” She agreed, perhaps a little too easily. 

 

“You don’t have to deal with human-thing if you don’t want to. Just tell me. Mai wouldn’t enjoy interacting with slimy humans at all,” I said. Although she was obviously capable of doing this, and seemed to have the patience required, as I already left her in charge of the merchant when I was too tired, I didn’t want her to kill the captive in frustration.

 

Then it came to me that I used the same expression as she did. 

 

“I will do it. For you. Master.” Narita replied. She got up quickly, full of energy to fulfil her task.

 

“Does it mean I receive special attention from you?” Tama pressed on. 

 

I, however, as much as I wasn’t quite ready for this, even if I subconsciously pulled her close without even thinking. 

 

Torn by the unnaturally growing sense of kinship between me and my monsters, I was still not going to give up on the original plan, or rather a wish, to return home. 

 

Whether it was for the sake of convenience or the desperate attempt to hold on to some sense of old identity, I didn’t know myself.

 

Unable to simply ask someone for directions, or a transport, I direly needed a magical solution to the magical problem. While my monsters all had their own touch of the supernatural, true magic was beyond my grasp, and the only resemblance of it lay in this strange window that still floated at the edge of my view.  

 

I needed to figure out this would-be system.