chsdbacks Page 135
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Ravenna straightened up, a renewed determination in her eyes: "It will change. Ravenna the Scar Whisper assures you."
On her way out of the Moonlit Hotel, Ravenna was deeply moved. In that chaotic night, she had not only witnessed the true power of dragons and acquired three books capable of changing her destiny, but more importantly, she had seen for the first time clearly the Dawn Mast—no, the hope for the future of all Luskan.
The scar on her back felt slightly warm, sensing that something important was approaching. It was a "gift" left by the cursed magical branding iron when she escaped from the pirates—a strange ability to sense the movements of ships at sea. But this time, what she sensed was not ships, but something far more magnificent and miraculous, awakening in the city at the far north of the Sword Coast, like a ghost shrouding the entire Northland.
Luscan, this divided city, remains engrossed in its internal power struggles, completely unaware of the approaching external crisis.
Ravenna quickened her pace; she needed to get the three books back to the secret stronghold of the Dawnmast as soon as possible. Time was running out, and if Luskan failed to unite before spring arrived, it would face a fate far more brutal than the rule of the Arcane Brotherhood.
The streets of Luskan were filled with drunkards and vagrants in the dead of night, but tonight no one dared to stop this savage female warrior burdened with heavy responsibilities. For her body gleamed with a chilling light—the awakening of a fighter, the spark of revolution.
32. Sowing
That night, the senior members of the Arcane Brotherhood held an emergency meeting to discuss the sudden disappearance of the three patrol boats—they weren't really concerned about the disappearance of the three ships; such things were commonplace after disasters, nothing more than assassinations by rival factions. As for the claim that most people witnessed the dragon attack, that was even more ridiculous; using illusions to cover up their actions was perfectly normal for evil mages.
This event became the trigger for a new round of power struggles among the various factions. The four high-ranking mages of the four towers, who had split into conservative, reformist, and radical factions after the disaster, took the opportunity to accuse each other and launched a new round of internal purges under the pretext of the missing ships.
"This is clearly evidence of the reformers colluding with external forces!" Malkaba roared, her staff striking the marble floor, splattering venom and corroding large pits into the stone slabs.
"Absurd!" "Claw Mark" retorted. "It's precisely because you conservatives have been obstructing our efforts to strengthen the port's defenses that this disaster has occurred!"
The debate quickly escalated into a magical duel, with dangerous arcane light flashing throughout the meeting hall. By dawn, two mid-level mages from the reformist faction and three from the radical faction had "unexpectedly died," and the four archmages reached a consensus: a thorough search of the entire port area was ordered, in reality an operation to plunder the property of the common people—who knows what they still wanted to squeeze out of those poorly clothed and starving beggars. Perhaps, to the evil mages, even the beggars themselves, or even their corpses, held value.
Casalos and Toona looked down over the chaotic city, witnessing yet another upheaval unfold.
"It seems our little performance has stirred up quite a ripple," Casalos said softly.
Tao Na smiled slightly: "Isn't this exactly the effect you wanted?"
Casalos turned and walked to the table with three copies of the books on it: "Now that we've planted the seeds, let's linger in this city a little longer and observe how they take root and sprout."
"You're planning to change your plans?" Tao Na raised an eyebrow. "I thought we'd head straight south."
"The best part of a honeymoon is the spontaneity," Casalos said, pulling Toona into his arms. "Now that we're involved in the situation in Luskan, let's delve deeper and see how the city's transformation begins. Besides, there are many interesting people and things waiting for us to explore."
Over the next few days, Casalos and Toona wandered the streets and alleys of Luscany in various guises. Sometimes they disguised themselves as wealthy merchants, enjoying fine dining in magically rebuilt restaurants; other times they became wandering performers, listening to the prayers of stranded sailors in the mast-lined slums; and still other times they became adventurers, taking on trivial tasks to pass the time in this dilapidated city.
Under the dual pressures of disaster and the Arcane Brotherhood, Luskan has become a melting pot of contradictions. Friction between the Northlanders from Rusm Isle and the local inhabitants continues to escalate; the drow elves who fled Menzoberranzan and the dwarves of Icewind Dale bring the grudges of the Underdark to this port city. To the dragons, these conflicts are more like a series of captivating dramas.
Of course, Casalos, who might not be entirely a dragon, didn't waste any opportunities. He distributed different versions and combinations of books to those he deemed suitable: a down-on-his-luck captain pondering in a tavern corner received an extra copy of *The Influence of Sea Power*; a disgruntled merchant from afar found a copy of *A Critique of Political Economy* in his backpack; a group of adventurers passing through Luskan were given an extra copy of *On Guerrilla and Mobile Warfare*; and a kingdom's heir who had fled to the chaotic nest of Luskan suddenly found *Mein Kampf* emerging from under his cloak…
A diminutive drow elf wielding twin scimitars and accompanied by a beautiful black panther caught Casalos's attention.
"Drizzt Du'edden, what's he doing here?" Casalos's eyes darted around. "If an evil underground city like Menzoberranzan can also unleash a storm of class revolution, wouldn't that be far more interesting than saving Luskan?"
Driven by this idea, it used copying techniques to rewrite "Problems of Tactics and Strategy" and "Struggle" to match the content of Menzoberranzan and the entire Drow society, and then stuffed the whole set into the Dark Elf's baggage. It also stroked the glossy black fur of the great black panther, which made the latter purr and hiss at it incessantly.
"I'm sorry, Guan Haifa isn't used to interacting with strangers." Cui Sanye stopped his animal companion from threatening the "idle" passerby and offered a sincere apology, demonstrating impeccable manners and manners.
"It's really interesting to meet such a polite person like Zhuo Er..." Tao Na exclaimed in amazement.
On the morning of the fifth day, as they were having breakfast, the burly female barbarian walked into the Moonlit Hotel's restaurant. Casalos immediately recognized Ravenna, even though she was now in a new disguise.
Ravenna recognized the two dragons; couples like them were a rare sight in this chaotic and dilapidated city. She glanced around cautiously, then walked straight to their table. "I need to talk to you," she said softly, "not here."
“The right choice.” Casalos wasn’t surprised. Then, led by Ravenna, the two honeymooning dragons boarded a small boat and arrived at a secluded basement on Harbor Arm Island. The basement was furnished with simple tables and chairs, and the walls were covered with nautical charts and a detailed map of Luscany. Besides Ravenna, several other members of the Dawnmast were present: the quick-witted halfling scholar Lila, the magic apprentice Philline from Sunset Street, and Brian, a young priest from the Temple of the God of Wisdom.
“We’ve studied those books,” Ravenna said bluntly, her eyes gleaming with a rare light. “I’ve never seen such ideas, such perspectives… It explained what had been bothering me all this time and opened my eyes to a wider world.”
Lila, the halfling, added, "In particular, the analysis of resource allocation and power structures in 'The Struggle' perfectly matches our experience in Luskan."
"We have begun organizing reading groups," the elf Faerun continued, "and have received the support of the Temple of Wisdom. Pastor Brian has confirmed that these ideas do not conflict with the teachings of the God of Wisdom."
Casalos nodded slightly: "That's because these books reveal the truth, not fiction. The shock you feel is the power of truth being presented for the first time."
"But... we've discovered we lack sufficient mentors." Ravenna hesitated for a moment before speaking resolutely, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. "The leaders of the Dawnmast won't support these ideas! And with just a few of us, relying solely on these few books, it's difficult to spread the ideology quickly. We lack true leaders, both in terms of power and in terms of thought."
Casalos and Toona exchanged a glance, and Toona nodded knowingly.
"I am not and cannot be your leader!" it said firmly, gesturing to stop the barbarian from speaking. "The fact that you recognize this means you have the potential to become the leader you imagine yourself to be. There have never been any divine emperors—gods are merely appendages of divine offices derived from social concepts, and emperors are just puppets of feudal centralized power. You shouldn't rely on any savior; you should rely on yourselves. Of course, you haven't even begun yet, so we can stay a few more days to help you establish a basic learning system."
Ravenna's face immediately lit up with joy: "Really? That's wonderful! We can start right away."
"However, we cannot remain here as we are now," Casalos pointed out. "The Arcane Brotherhood has increased patrols and checks throughout the city, especially targeting outsiders."
"Then let's change identities," Taona suggested. "In a city like Luskan, countless people disappear every day. If a few reclusive individuals return, it won't attract much attention."
“We need a verifiable Luscan resident identity,” Casalos agreed, turning to Ravenna. “As a local, you should be able to do this easily. Give us the information, let us know what kind of person we should be, what our habits should be, and arrange a safe place for us, preferably near the center of your activities.”
Ravenna thought for a moment, then nodded and said, "I'll give you the identities today. As for the location... there's a dilapidated but safe house at Long Beach Wharf, which is one of our secret contact points. No one will notice you there."
"Perfect." Casalos nodded in satisfaction. "Now, tell us more about Dawn Mast. I need to know your organizational structure, membership, and current operational plans."
In the following section, Ravenna provided a detailed account of the Dawn Mast. Founded ten years ago, the organization began as a self-defense group of dockworkers resisting pirate enslavement. Over time, it evolved into Luscan's largest underground resistance organization. It currently has approximately three hundred members, primarily dockworkers, fishermen, slum dwellers, and a small number of dissident businessmen and scholars.
The organization has a relatively loose structure, operating in small, decentralized groups. Ravenna, as one of the founders, serves as the coordinator and external liaison. For the past two years, their main activities have included protecting residents of the slums, disrupting the Arcane Brotherhood's tax collection efforts, and assisting in the acquisition and distribution of food.
"Do you have a clear political stance?" Casalos asked. "Besides rebelling against the rule of the Arcane Brotherhood, what kind of society do you hope to establish?"
Ravenna looked puzzled. "We...we've never really thought about this deeply. Most members just want a city without hunger and oppression, but we don't have a clear plan on how to achieve it. As for those three, I don't know what they're thinking—at least from their current performance, they're getting further and further away from our goal."
"That's exactly what you lack," Casalos pointed out. "Without a clear goal and direction, even if you overthrow the Arcane Brotherhood, you could fall into new chaos."
Ravenna lowered her head to think about the question, the scars on her back trembling slightly, as if responding to her emotional fluctuations.
"Take us to meet your other companions," Tao Na suggested gently, "those who share your interests." (Is Mei thinking about this? Is Lin thinking about this?)
As Casalos had predicted, Ravenna had already prepared a gathering, where about twenty people had gathered, mostly mid-level members of the Dawnmast organization. These people were quite different from the refugees that were everywhere in Luskan; their eyes were resolute and filled with a longing for the future.
"They are dragons," Ravenna introduced to her companions, her tone full of respect.
The hall fell silent. Everyone stared wide-eyed, then erupted in a burst of doubt and laughter.
"A dragon? Are you crazy, Ravenna?"
"If they are dragons, then I am the troll prince!"
"It seems our Scar Whisperer has finally been driven mad by the sea chart."
Casalos and Toona exchanged a smile, offering no argument. Casalos simply raised his hand, and a blue arcane aura condensed at his fingertips, then split into a dozen miniature arcane orbs that swirled around his finger. Each orb emanated a chilling aura that sent shivers down the spines of everyone present—regardless of whether they were dragons or not, this spell alone could reduce everyone here to dust.
The hall fell silent again, this time out of shock and fear.
"Let's skip the pointless questioning," Casalos said calmly, withdrawing his arcane energy. "You don't need to know who we are; you only need to understand that we have the ability and the will to help you fight against the Arcane Brotherhood."
"Why?" an old fisherman asked, his voice now tinged with reverence. "Why do you help us...humans?"
"Because we are all seeking change," Casalos replied. "Luskan is just the beginning; the entire continent of Faerûn needs change. And change must begin at the ground up, driven by people like you—ordinary people, yet people of extraordinary courage."
The group exchanged glances, seemingly unsure how to respond.
Ravenna took a deep breath and placed the book "The Struggle" on the table. "This book will tell you why you fight, and what you fight for."
She held her head high, and the barbarian's booming voice echoed like sacred words in the basement: "What we lack is not only weapons and mages, but also direction and wisdom."
The Dawn Mast needs to be reorganized. We need to establish systematic study groups to study the contents of these three books, break them down into easily understandable units, and have literate members teach them to illiterate members, spreading the ideas throughout the Dawn Mast, then to other resistance organizations, and finally to all the oppressed lower classes in Luskan.
At the same time, we need to master simple but practical magical skills, discover all those with arcane talents, build our own spellcasting power, and take control of the 'armed force' capable of fighting the Arcane Brotherhood, instead of those three leaders who only want to use us.
The organizational structure of Dawnmast must be rebuilt. Our loosely organized members need to be integrated into an orderly network, maintaining flexibility while greatly enhancing coordination and synchronization. We also need to learn more sophisticated camouflage and intelligence-gathering techniques.
Now we have two experienced mentors willing to teach us everything we need, and I think we absolutely cannot let this opportunity slip by…
Meanwhile, internal strife within the Arcane Brotherhood continued to intensify, with various factions launching even more drastic purges.
Tristan, a moderate on his way to becoming an archmage, dies in an "accident," and the radical Morca seizes control of the port district, imposing even harsher oppression on the civilians. The city descends into deeper darkness and chaos, giving the resistance more room to operate.
Those who obtained the various books distributed by Casaloz through different channels also began to interpret and try them out. Some left Luskan to travel far away, while others stayed in this decaying city, giving speeches in the streets or taverns, forming their own small organizations, and were then discovered and absorbed by the Dawn Mast.
Different ideas, though sharing the same origin, yet possessing subtle or profound differences, collide within the Dawn Mast. A strange and weak divine role quietly appears among the gods, while an unconscious, intangible, and weakly powerful face slowly coalesces in an outer realm, unnoticed by any god—the gods are still adapting to the new rules of AO, striving for those pitiful faiths they once overlooked.
On the morning of the fifteenth day, Casalos and Toona decided to leave Luskan and continue their journey.
"Are you really leaving?" Ravenna asked, a hint of reluctance flashing in her eyes.
"Yes, there are still many places waiting for us to explore," Casalos replied, "but we have left you with enough knowledge and tools to proceed on your own."
"We will always remember your help," Ravenna said solemnly.
"Don't remember us, remember the ideas in those books," Casalos corrected. "That's what's truly important."
"I have a request," Ravenna said suddenly. "I would like to send a representative with you to Waterdeep to establish contact with our comrades there. Luscan is wealthy, but isolated. Establishing contact with the rebels in other cities would greatly advance our cause."
Casalos pondered for a moment, then turned to Toona: "What do you think?"
Tao Na smiled slightly: "Having another companion is not bad, and besides, the reforms in Waterdeep can indeed provide Luskan with valuable experience."
"Then it's settled." Casalos turned to Ravenna. "Who are you planning to send?"
Ravenna took a deep breath: "I want to go there myself."
Casalos raised an eyebrow: "Are you sure? Given your status, a sudden disappearance might arouse suspicion."
"I've already made arrangements. The official story is that I'm going to the front lines to inspect supply transport," Ravenna explained. "My nautical chart is connected to the sea, so even if I leave Luskan, I can still sense everything here. I'll be gone for about a week; the Dawnmast will be fine."
Casalos nodded in agreement: "Very well, but we won't return directly to Waterdeep. Our next stop is Candlekeep—the largest library in Faerûn, and the location of its greatest repository of knowledge."
Ravenna's eyes lit up immediately: "Candlehold! I've only ever heard of it in legends. It's said to hold all the knowledge in the world."
"Not all, but very close," Tao Na added with a smile.
33. Control Group
A majestic obsidian complex stands atop the yellow sands, its sharp silhouette piercing the sky. The core of this fortress, once an inconspicuous oasis, has now expanded into the heart of an empire. Obsidian pyramids, fortifications, and temples surround a primordial water source, stretching into the surrounding desert like a colossal beast lying in the center of a sea of sand.
The formidable reputation of "Great Witch King Klaus" has swept across the vast southern desert of the continent of Atas like a storm over the past three months. The border outposts of the two Witch Kings, Agmar and Zolak, have fallen one after another, and thousands of warriors have submitted to the command of this suddenly rising "Great Witch King".
Grommash looked down at the construction site, his molten lava-like eyes reflecting the tense, busy figures of hundreds of slaves. They were building a massive obsidian temple, a symbol of Grommash's rule and the focal point of his psychic power—perhaps the death and decline of magic had made Atas's psychic energy incredibly active, or perhaps it was due to the pseudo-Laplace's demons, so closely related to psychic energy, that Grommash had already reached a respectable psychic level in just three months.
"What are the statistics?" Taigu Hong lowered his head, staring at Celine Della beneath him, his tone as calm as a sage.
Accustomed to this treatment, the crystal dragon gently shook its hooked beak, allowing its body, tense from multiple surges of pleasure, to relax slightly. A complex light, drawn by psychic energy, flashed in its crystalline eyes: "As per your request, the mindset adjustment of the first batch of slaves has been completed. All six hundred and thirty-seven slaves now believe that working for you is the greatest honor in life, and seventy percent of them have even developed a near-religious fanaticism of loyalty."
"How effective is the mind imprint?" The old roar's dragon claws scraped several fresh marks on the obsidian claw plate, and the flying rubble rolled down the pyramid. A group of short, half-human figures with glowing red eyes immediately pushed wheelbarrows to the bottom of the pyramid and collected these precious materials.
Both are obsidian, but the one that can be made into a dragon claw grappling hook has a sharpness comparable to a magical weapon, even with minimal forging. Its ability to withstand psionic and arcane magic far surpasses that of ordinary obsidian that has been fired in a crucible with sand.
"Much better than expected," Serendella replied, a barely perceptible hint of weariness in her voice. "It was originally estimated that three psionic shocks would be needed to complete the permanent branding, but in reality, most slaves only need one. The people of this world seem to have become accustomed to accepting external mind control—their mental barriers have long been riddled with holes along with the world's decline."
"Very good." Old Hou nodded in satisfaction, exhaling two wisps of sulfurous smoke from his nostrils. "Continue according to plan. We need to complete the next batch of conversions by the end of the month."
Grommash Hellscream's empire expanded far faster than initially anticipated. Those Templar Knights and ordinary warriors who initially came from the city-state of Agmar have now become the backbone of Grommash's army. With their help, along with Serendella, Grommash has established an efficient system of governance, centered on mind imprinting and mental control, bringing an increasing number of desert natives under his command.
This mode of control is not simply about terror and oppression, but rather a sophisticated system of psychological manipulation.
"Have you considered that these newly recruited warriors might be setting up mind traps for the Witch-King Agmar?" Serendella asked, her transparent scales reflecting rainbow-like halos in the sunlight. "Superficial loyalty might be masking a deeper form of control."
"Of course," Old Roar sneered. "I've never truly trusted those who surrendered, especially the high-ranking Templars. They were loyal to their own survival instincts, not to any master. So our mental imprint isn't about loyalty, but about self-perception."
This is precisely the essence of Lao Hou's establishment of the slave empire.
Unlike the Witch-King Agmar, who maintained his rule through coercion and fear, Howl the Great took a more covert and efficient approach—it did not require the slaves' forced loyalty, but only a slight reconstruction of their self-perception, making serving "Great Witch-King Klaus" a part of their identity and the meaning of their existence.
"Now we begin the second phase." Old Roar rose and released the Crystal Dragon, shaking himself as he looked down at the busy ranks below. "Bring that witch Zoka here. I'm going to perform the dragonification ritual, transforming the most elite warriors into half-dragons."
Serendella nodded gently, then spread her transparent wings and flew towards the central square. Soon after, a short, halfling witch arrived at the top of the pyramid. Zoka was no longer the insignificant shaman of the Uduru tribe that Old Roar had first encountered; now, after Old Roar's transformation and training, she had become a powerful ritualist, incorporating psionic energy into arcane magic, capable of presiding over complex magical rituals.
"Great Great Wizard King," Zoka bowed deeply, his forehead almost touching the ground, "your summons is my greatest honor."
Old Roar ignored her flattery and said directly, "Are you ready to perform the dragonification ritual? I want to transform my most elite warriors into half-dragons of my bloodline."
Zoka's eyes lit up: "Yes, Great Witch King! I have studied the ritual framework you provided and adjusted it according to the properties of psionic energy. But I must still remind you that the price of this ritual is extremely heavy. The corrosive effects of dragon blood will cause drastic physiological changes and unimaginable pain in a short period of time, enough to tear the soul of any person with a strong will apart."
"Where does power come from without a price?" Old Roar chuckled, flicking his tail. "Select from our warriors those who have already undergone significant changes under the radiation of my dragon magic—those familiars who exhibit the traits of a dragon's neighbor or a master of fire dragons. They are much more tolerant of the half-dragon transformation; many should survive."
It may not be in a hurry to have its followers gradually awaken their dragon veins and become half-dragons through advanced professions, as is the case underground. A violent but convenient magical ritual can quickly build an army of half-dragons.
Zoka respectfully replied, "As you instructed, two hundred candidates have been selected. They have all undergone at least two months of exposure to dragon blood radiation, and have grown dragon claws and scales. The most outstanding ones have even sprouted dragon horns on their heads..."
The old roar nodded in satisfaction, its tail tip tracing across its own wing hook. Burning dragon blood gushed down like a spring, flowing down the obsidian and wriggling like a living creature as it gathered in a specific groove in the pyramid, forming a pool large enough to support the medium requirements of the entire dragon transformation ritual.
"Go, prepare the ceremony. I want to see my half-dragon legion before sunset tomorrow," Old Roar commanded, a hint of anticipation in his voice. Unlike simply teaching dragon language, this bloodline conversion would grant these warriors true dragon power—enhanced physique, resistance to fire, and even the ability to breathe dragon breath.
Zoka bowed again, carefully using his psionic energy to collect the dragon blood, and then left the top of the pyramid.
After Zoka left, Old Howl turned to the distant sand dunes, where a second obsidian structure was rising from the ground—a massive arena. Unlike the pyramids, the arena's purpose was not as a symbol of power, but as a selection mechanism. There, slaves would prove their worth through battle, and the victors would gain opportunities for promotion and transformation.
"You're thinking about those overworked slaves," Serendella suddenly said, her keen mental perception able to touch the surface of Old Howl's thoughts.
Old Roar raised an eyebrow slightly: "Yes. I've noticed that after the mind-branding, the slaves' work enthusiasm has significantly increased, but it's also brought an unexpected problem—they'll work tirelessly until their bodies collapse."
This is precisely the influence of Casalorus. While completely dominated by the Old Howl's dragon soul, he might not care about the lives of his slaves, but Casalorus's psychic entity always considered these slaves as part of his own wealth. Excessive consumption of wealth is a disruption of order, a waste that the Iron Dragon's nature cannot tolerate.
"We need to find a balance," Old Roar mused. "The mental imprint makes them work with a fervor, but that fervor is diminishing their value."