Minervina Barda 3 - Preparation is key
- Pronouns
- He
Minervina Barda 3: Preparation is key.
It turns out a good slaughter is just like a good party. Its all about the preparation.
"Those noble ballads never mention all the elbow grease that goes into setting up a proper battlefield. Or the expense." The slim figure grouses as she takes a sharp knife to the throat of the Formation Stage cannibal that lies dead at her feet. She talks to the corpse, for lack of anything better to moan at, its bloated eyes seem to glare at her reproachfully as she inelegantly removes his head. In hindsight her gathering knife wasn't the right tool for the job, she makes a note to bring an axe or something next time. "Oh and don't you get all pissy with me. You got exactly what you deserved. What sensible senior ditches his juniors in enemy territory because he heard rumors a perfectly normal little village has a Heavenly Treasure like a Vorpal Blood Pill?" She shakes her head ruefully at this foolishness and gives the now headless corpse a contemptuous little kick as she artfully spreads the mans blood over her knuckles and face.
To a casual glance it now looks like the Golden Devil has taken her rival apart with brute force and her bare fists, rather than simply leaving a carefully disguised Poison Pill where the cannibal expected a Heavenly Elixir. The disguise likely won't stand much scrutiny, but it doesn't have to for the plan to work. Min feels a shiver of nerves, but clamps down on them hard. Direct confrontation wasn't her usual style, but it was necessary for the plan and besides if she wanted to perfect her latest technique in time for the Trials, it would need to be tempered in combat. A flash of a broken roof spar falling on a humble fisherman enters her mind. This technique could be the key to her vengeance.
A guttural warcry outside the village gates signals the arrival of the last of her party guests. "Mother always said a good hostess always greets her guests at the door with a smile." She scoops up the dead mans head (fortunately he had grown his hair long) and flies from the village square to the gatehouse in four long floating leaps. The Shimmermist Steps was a favorite of hers, well worth the effort and Points it took to find a worthy movement technique in the Clan archive.
She stands like a flagpole on the gatehouse, grisly trophy held high. No less than thirty Blood Warriors awaited her. Huge, musclebound men and women covered in the furs, scales and chitin of desert predators and holding weapons that glistened with stolen vitality. Each was a product of a harsh existence, forced to prove herself over and over against their peers for the right to continue existing. Any who had it in them to hesitate at the sight of blood had long since been betrayed and consumed by his fellows.
Yet even still, their dimmed hearts knew fear in that moment. To see the head of Demon Eyed Markuth, Consumer of six cities and feared Gourmet of Virtue, dangling nonchalantly from the fingers of this thin slip of a black robed woman? How could anyone not hesitate, even if only for a moment. The Golden Devils toothy grin just made things worse somehow.
Min is certain some of her peers could have done this with more panache. Sarentpechos would have had a blistering noble speech prepared or that Callistra woman would have dealt with this whole matter much more elegantly. Oh well, she would just have to do her best.
"When you get to hell, tell them Minervina Barda sent you. I'll be along to say hello in my own damn time." The barbarians look nonplussed. That was such a shit line, she berated herself. You spent three days planning this whole thing out but didn't give a single thought as to what you were going to say?
"Oh fuck off and die." She tosses the head at their feet and her fingers flash through the lightning fast incantation gestures of the most advanced technique she has yet gleaned from the seemingly endless Scarlet Crow Scroll. Her smile goes from performative to genuine as she feels the winds fall under her spell and hears the subtle click as a dozen seals release from the caskets of carefully prepared toxins she has hidden around the village. The scene was set, her Deathly Opiate Orchestra could now play out.
(No, she didn't shout the technique name, yes I hear its very gratifying but people who shout out the names of their techniques deserve every misfortune the heavens drop on their ridiculous heads.)
First the Hallucinogens. Lighter than air and fast acting, the canny wind fetches them from the caskets and drops them on the confused mass of enemy Cultivators as a light fog. Gathered during her expedition to the Vermillion hills, the brew brings great waves of euphoria, anxiety, dread and lust to the crowd. Each foe feels each emotion at a different time of course, creating an utterly fascinating little tableaux before the whole scene is covered in the thick purple smogs of the second movement of her little play.
Paralyzing agents, gathered from the most deadly desert predators and secretive plants in her alchemical armoury. Magnus Centenius had demanded no small restitution for the samples of some of his finest scorpion venoms. Well they would pay for themselves today as she watched her victims start to shudder and collapse as both their nervous systems and Qi Meridians started to burn out and spark randomly. As she had expected, among cultivators of this level there were few who would have an effective counter to either hallucinogenic or paralytic strikes, and it seemed none had a useful defense against both.
Her swift moving hands conduct the winds of the Orchestra with seamless grace as she moves into the final act. Acids, strong enough to burn through metal and Qi infused flesh alike. The liquids froth out of the bottom of the caskets and take the form of a dozen unearthly monsters, great cats and dragons of a dozen different colours. Made solid by tight shells of air, the monster-puppets move among the terrified crowd of Blood Artists at her direction.
She starts to sweat. This is the most dangerous point. Keeping the simulacra solid takes all her power and concentration. If any of her enemies still have their wits about them she will be defenseless......
Its fine.
The Blood Cannibals are in utter despair, and between the toxins in their veins and concealing smog they don't have a chance to mount any defense. The screams and wails are replaced by the acidic smell of melting flesh and the occasional pop as even bone gives way before the bite of a Venom Dragon.
Minervina is a thorough soul though, so she maintains the spell for a few minutes more, ensuring nothing remains of this raiding party but a great blackened patch of bare earth. She would have to warn the villagers not to try and grow anything there for a decade or two.
The battle done, she can't help but notice how the peasants shy away from their savior as she goes to gather her things and prepares to leave. Perhaps one of her peers could have claimed victory in a way that won adulation rather than fear. Still, she tells herself, I'm not bothered about such things.
Fooling no one but herself, she shoulders her pack and sets off on the long trek for home. "And when I get back, I am having serious words with that receptionist at the Contribution Board. 'Safe Herb Gathering Mission' my ass! After that travesty with poor Chelios they should definitely know better. I have half a mind to slip that old geezer something unpleasant. It reminds me of the time........."
The monologue continues as she strolls towards the sunset.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile in an ancient cave deep in Blood Cannibal territory, the wind howls.
Angry and full of red lightning, the wind strikes at the stone floor of the cave with the force of a giant. Once, Twice, Thrice it hammers the stone. On the third strike a pale hand bursts from the rent earth, followed by the rest of a male figure. He has to worm his way up from the ground desperately and his thrashing makes it clear he is in great pain.
Demon Eyed Markuth, Consumer of six cities and feared Gourmet of Virtue coughs up blood as he reaches into his mouth and with a single swift and deliberate motion, rips out one of his molars. He throws it against the cave wall with obvious relief, where it burns with a hellish fire for a few minutes before collapsing into ash.
He takes a few moments to simply enjoy the sensation of breathing before letting the reality of his situation wash over him. He almost coughed up blood again out of sheer frustration. That Golden Whore had killed him! What was worse he had been forced to expend the Instant Karmic Resurrection Tooth he had killed dozens to claim. Without it he was incredibly vulnerable to the vicious political games his peers were playing across the territory.
And the embarrassment, the indignity of it all. His ephemeral spirit had been forced to watch that Golden Witch defile his corpse and slaughter his disciples. This night he would swear an oath to the blackest powers that would listen. He would revisit those agonies on her a thousand times over or shatter his Dao in the process. The Golden Devils would know what it meant to cross paths with Demon Eyed Markuth!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And so Minervina gets her first nemesis. Every Xianxia character needs a couple.
A quick note on timelines. This Omake takes place near the beginning of Turn 2's 20 year period. This is why Minervina thinks Markuth is dead at the end while the Good Seed Report makes it clear that he was wounded but survived. Clearly in the intervening period Markuth emerges out of the cave and most likely embarks on his campaign of vengeance or otherwise comes to the clans attention.
A few brief shout outs to other Good Seeds who's stories I have enjoyed in this one. Just seemed like a nice idea. However if anyone wants me to remove or alter what I wrote about their character, let me know and it will be done post haste.
Bonus this turn will go towards getting a Life Saving Treasure. I have a half formed idea about what it might be already, so if I get time another Omake where Min goes questing for it should be forthcoming soon. I want to ponder on her Dao some more as well, so we might see a chapter where Minervina doesn't murder anyone at all!
All Praise Be To @occipitallobe QM extraordinaire and bestower of threadmarks.
It turns out a good slaughter is just like a good party. Its all about the preparation.
"Those noble ballads never mention all the elbow grease that goes into setting up a proper battlefield. Or the expense." The slim figure grouses as she takes a sharp knife to the throat of the Formation Stage cannibal that lies dead at her feet. She talks to the corpse, for lack of anything better to moan at, its bloated eyes seem to glare at her reproachfully as she inelegantly removes his head. In hindsight her gathering knife wasn't the right tool for the job, she makes a note to bring an axe or something next time. "Oh and don't you get all pissy with me. You got exactly what you deserved. What sensible senior ditches his juniors in enemy territory because he heard rumors a perfectly normal little village has a Heavenly Treasure like a Vorpal Blood Pill?" She shakes her head ruefully at this foolishness and gives the now headless corpse a contemptuous little kick as she artfully spreads the mans blood over her knuckles and face.
To a casual glance it now looks like the Golden Devil has taken her rival apart with brute force and her bare fists, rather than simply leaving a carefully disguised Poison Pill where the cannibal expected a Heavenly Elixir. The disguise likely won't stand much scrutiny, but it doesn't have to for the plan to work. Min feels a shiver of nerves, but clamps down on them hard. Direct confrontation wasn't her usual style, but it was necessary for the plan and besides if she wanted to perfect her latest technique in time for the Trials, it would need to be tempered in combat. A flash of a broken roof spar falling on a humble fisherman enters her mind. This technique could be the key to her vengeance.
A guttural warcry outside the village gates signals the arrival of the last of her party guests. "Mother always said a good hostess always greets her guests at the door with a smile." She scoops up the dead mans head (fortunately he had grown his hair long) and flies from the village square to the gatehouse in four long floating leaps. The Shimmermist Steps was a favorite of hers, well worth the effort and Points it took to find a worthy movement technique in the Clan archive.
She stands like a flagpole on the gatehouse, grisly trophy held high. No less than thirty Blood Warriors awaited her. Huge, musclebound men and women covered in the furs, scales and chitin of desert predators and holding weapons that glistened with stolen vitality. Each was a product of a harsh existence, forced to prove herself over and over against their peers for the right to continue existing. Any who had it in them to hesitate at the sight of blood had long since been betrayed and consumed by his fellows.
Yet even still, their dimmed hearts knew fear in that moment. To see the head of Demon Eyed Markuth, Consumer of six cities and feared Gourmet of Virtue, dangling nonchalantly from the fingers of this thin slip of a black robed woman? How could anyone not hesitate, even if only for a moment. The Golden Devils toothy grin just made things worse somehow.
Min is certain some of her peers could have done this with more panache. Sarentpechos would have had a blistering noble speech prepared or that Callistra woman would have dealt with this whole matter much more elegantly. Oh well, she would just have to do her best.
"When you get to hell, tell them Minervina Barda sent you. I'll be along to say hello in my own damn time." The barbarians look nonplussed. That was such a shit line, she berated herself. You spent three days planning this whole thing out but didn't give a single thought as to what you were going to say?
"Oh fuck off and die." She tosses the head at their feet and her fingers flash through the lightning fast incantation gestures of the most advanced technique she has yet gleaned from the seemingly endless Scarlet Crow Scroll. Her smile goes from performative to genuine as she feels the winds fall under her spell and hears the subtle click as a dozen seals release from the caskets of carefully prepared toxins she has hidden around the village. The scene was set, her Deathly Opiate Orchestra could now play out.
(No, she didn't shout the technique name, yes I hear its very gratifying but people who shout out the names of their techniques deserve every misfortune the heavens drop on their ridiculous heads.)
First the Hallucinogens. Lighter than air and fast acting, the canny wind fetches them from the caskets and drops them on the confused mass of enemy Cultivators as a light fog. Gathered during her expedition to the Vermillion hills, the brew brings great waves of euphoria, anxiety, dread and lust to the crowd. Each foe feels each emotion at a different time of course, creating an utterly fascinating little tableaux before the whole scene is covered in the thick purple smogs of the second movement of her little play.
Paralyzing agents, gathered from the most deadly desert predators and secretive plants in her alchemical armoury. Magnus Centenius had demanded no small restitution for the samples of some of his finest scorpion venoms. Well they would pay for themselves today as she watched her victims start to shudder and collapse as both their nervous systems and Qi Meridians started to burn out and spark randomly. As she had expected, among cultivators of this level there were few who would have an effective counter to either hallucinogenic or paralytic strikes, and it seemed none had a useful defense against both.
Her swift moving hands conduct the winds of the Orchestra with seamless grace as she moves into the final act. Acids, strong enough to burn through metal and Qi infused flesh alike. The liquids froth out of the bottom of the caskets and take the form of a dozen unearthly monsters, great cats and dragons of a dozen different colours. Made solid by tight shells of air, the monster-puppets move among the terrified crowd of Blood Artists at her direction.
She starts to sweat. This is the most dangerous point. Keeping the simulacra solid takes all her power and concentration. If any of her enemies still have their wits about them she will be defenseless......
Its fine.
The Blood Cannibals are in utter despair, and between the toxins in their veins and concealing smog they don't have a chance to mount any defense. The screams and wails are replaced by the acidic smell of melting flesh and the occasional pop as even bone gives way before the bite of a Venom Dragon.
Minervina is a thorough soul though, so she maintains the spell for a few minutes more, ensuring nothing remains of this raiding party but a great blackened patch of bare earth. She would have to warn the villagers not to try and grow anything there for a decade or two.
The battle done, she can't help but notice how the peasants shy away from their savior as she goes to gather her things and prepares to leave. Perhaps one of her peers could have claimed victory in a way that won adulation rather than fear. Still, she tells herself, I'm not bothered about such things.
Fooling no one but herself, she shoulders her pack and sets off on the long trek for home. "And when I get back, I am having serious words with that receptionist at the Contribution Board. 'Safe Herb Gathering Mission' my ass! After that travesty with poor Chelios they should definitely know better. I have half a mind to slip that old geezer something unpleasant. It reminds me of the time........."
The monologue continues as she strolls towards the sunset.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile in an ancient cave deep in Blood Cannibal territory, the wind howls.
Angry and full of red lightning, the wind strikes at the stone floor of the cave with the force of a giant. Once, Twice, Thrice it hammers the stone. On the third strike a pale hand bursts from the rent earth, followed by the rest of a male figure. He has to worm his way up from the ground desperately and his thrashing makes it clear he is in great pain.
Demon Eyed Markuth, Consumer of six cities and feared Gourmet of Virtue coughs up blood as he reaches into his mouth and with a single swift and deliberate motion, rips out one of his molars. He throws it against the cave wall with obvious relief, where it burns with a hellish fire for a few minutes before collapsing into ash.
He takes a few moments to simply enjoy the sensation of breathing before letting the reality of his situation wash over him. He almost coughed up blood again out of sheer frustration. That Golden Whore had killed him! What was worse he had been forced to expend the Instant Karmic Resurrection Tooth he had killed dozens to claim. Without it he was incredibly vulnerable to the vicious political games his peers were playing across the territory.
And the embarrassment, the indignity of it all. His ephemeral spirit had been forced to watch that Golden Witch defile his corpse and slaughter his disciples. This night he would swear an oath to the blackest powers that would listen. He would revisit those agonies on her a thousand times over or shatter his Dao in the process. The Golden Devils would know what it meant to cross paths with Demon Eyed Markuth!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And so Minervina gets her first nemesis. Every Xianxia character needs a couple.
A quick note on timelines. This Omake takes place near the beginning of Turn 2's 20 year period. This is why Minervina thinks Markuth is dead at the end while the Good Seed Report makes it clear that he was wounded but survived. Clearly in the intervening period Markuth emerges out of the cave and most likely embarks on his campaign of vengeance or otherwise comes to the clans attention.
A few brief shout outs to other Good Seeds who's stories I have enjoyed in this one. Just seemed like a nice idea. However if anyone wants me to remove or alter what I wrote about their character, let me know and it will be done post haste.
Bonus this turn will go towards getting a Life Saving Treasure. I have a half formed idea about what it might be already, so if I get time another Omake where Min goes questing for it should be forthcoming soon. I want to ponder on her Dao some more as well, so we might see a chapter where Minervina doesn't murder anyone at all!
All Praise Be To @occipitallobe QM extraordinaire and bestower of threadmarks.
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