[hider=Director Vitaphagas Graft]
For a moment Graft believed. He believed that his words would reach the ears of the last Sable Lord, and haul him up from the depths he'd immersed himself in to reclaim his rightful place. It fit with everything he knew most fundamentally, after all; a Supreme Being stood over all created things, an entity from beyond bearing an innate mandate that set it at a different echelon to those of the world. They were not infallible, Graft understood, but they harbored limitless potential. If they so chose, such beings could accomplish anything they set their minds to. They could exhaust every modicum of content that reality had to offer, surpassing every possible challenge. While these immortals might experience setbacks, true defeat -a final end to their paths- came only if they so chose.

Graft's speech had been one of encouragement, but also ultimatum. Every carefully selected word led up to the choice he laid before Rodias, an intricate trap for the dhampir to foil or spring. If he was the leader of Gothika, he had no choice but to [i]lead.[/i] If he did not step up to do that, here and now, he was no leader. Yet the Director did not think that could actually happen. He merely needed a prod in the right direction, and all would be well. In times like this, the boss turned to his number two to right his course, and Graft happily obliged. He waited with bated breath for Rodias to throw off the cloak of despair laying heavy on his shoulders and wrap himself instead in the mantle of sovereignty.

But that moment never came.

Dull-eyed, Rodias said nothing. He made no response to Graft's words. Instead his remained quiet, the cloud of depression hanging about him like a foul smog, and listened to what Salem had to say. Graft's mouth hung open for a moment, his mind electrified with astonishment. [i]What? He's...not doing anything. He should have been roused to action![/i] After a moment Graft meandered away and plunked into a chair, numbly allowing the others' words to reach him. Salem suggested subterfuge on the part of Rodias, relinquishing none of his authority while pretending to do so in order to infiltrate the ranks of Morgan's group. The doll also, with a knowing look at Graft that went unacknowledged, mentioned that Rodias' lofty ideas about the character and value of the guild might be misplaced. For once in its life the First Chapter Keeper spoke sense. It understood that the fragile bonds keeping Gothika together liked back to a single source, Rodias himself, and that letting go of any more slack meant a total collapse of order.

It had to be clear what Rodias needed to do at that point...it had to. But still he did nothing. He [i]would[/i] do nothing.

Kaldorna said something next, mostly complaining about the state of the guild's organization. Graft agreed, although since his 'friend' seemed to lay a lot of blame on himself, he did not do so in good spirits. “It's thanks to me we have any semblance of communication or cooperation at all,” he grumbled, enunciating the last two words. His epiphany about Rodias staggered him, but anger bubbled beneath the surface. Kaldorna also suggested a council for the governance of Gothika, which did not gel with Graft. [i]As if the majority of our number deserve any sort of authority[/i], he thought. And what would such a council do, composed of servants with no master? What bound them all together? If there were no Sable Lords, as he made quite plain, there was no Bandersnatch. 

Even gloomier than before, Rodias conceded to Salem and entertained the idea of a council before dismissing everyone. While others got underway, Graft continued to sit. He stared at the empty thrones. He sat until all the rest had gone, thinking, thinking, thinking.

Graft stood up, and approached the thrones. His lenses snapped into place, and they gave forth streams of light. Shapes wrought themselves into being upon the thrones, evidencing the vanished Bandersnatch Lords. Even with hazy details and holographic distortion they looked magnificent in their varied glory. Graft wished that he could have spoken to them like this before they were gone. He wished they were here now.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the Board...” he said to the mirages. “...What is your will?” Graft sought answers in the faces of the Supreme Ones, and in the visages of those with no faces. His eyes ended up on Brushen Penn. Did her mistreatment of assets seem like that much of a crime now that he'd been faced with betrayal? “Would you want to see the culmination of your endeavors driven into the ground...?”

A rhetorical question of course, which worked out well considering the lack of prospective response. “No...” Graft whispered. A company was a like a ship. When it was going under, and the chain of command fell through for the sake of survival, there existed only two kinds of people: sinkers, and swimmers. Rodias was supposed to swim, but he chose to sink. The king meant to lift Gothika up became an anchor to weigh it down. A couple seconds passed before he cleared his throat. “The resignation of Rodias has been tendered and accepted. With it, the dissolution of the Board is complete. Yet its legacy will live on through its successors. I have already started down your path, my lords. Now I will follow in your footsteps.”

The images disappeared, and he turned away. 

[hr]

[center][i]Much later...[/i][/center]

After just a couple moments the scan completed. Graft nodded in satisfaction. “Forty-five and forty-five. You're dead even. Anything to report?”

Standing side by side especially, Papillary and Tabula looked very different. Before, Tabula had been nothing but soft and dumb, but now she looked like a fighter, a real priestess of war. Papillary, meanwhile, had continued to develop nothing but her HP, and looked like a bloated sack of meat stuffed into a mightily-stretched doctor's garb. She stood half a head taller than Tabula now, and at least three times as wide. A dozen gallons of blood coursed through her with every beat of her heart-head. Before Graft stood a strong beauty and a grotesque monstrosity, each well-suited for her purpose. 

Papillary replied first, her voice a bit deeper than before. “Yes, sir. Both of us experienced severe diminishing returns on the way to forty-five. We agree that it'll take exponentially longer to keep growing from here.” She both looked and sounded haggard.

Graft crossed his arms. “That'll be because our Team Leads, the strongest of my generic employees, are uniformly level forty. My research on the development processes of the Supreme Beings indicated they must continue to seek stronger and stronger opponents, with the rewards increasing drastically. In fact, I found several records of complaints that in some cases it takes more total work to go from a level like fifty to fifty-one than it took to go from one to fifty.”

Both underlings groaned; their training had already been arduous. Graft chuckled. “Now, now! Don't you have any faith in your Director, girls? With my Trading Commission proposal on ice, and no new orders coming in, I've had a lot of time to figure out a better way to make you stronger. Walk with me!” In a flourish Graft stood up from his desk and stalked toward the door, walking with his cane. Tabula followed right after him, excitement writ on her features, while Papillary huffed and puffed as she struggled to keep up. Graft led to the way to the Factory's west wing, where he picked out one chamber in particular. The bio-scanner peered at him closely before sliding open the door, and Graft waltzed right inside. There was a momentary delay as Papillary struggled to squeeze through. “Hmm, we'll have to get that widened,” he murmured, before clearing his throat. “Anyway, feast your eyes upon my latest and greatest innovation. This...is the Experience Farm.”

The huge room stood as nothing less than an epitome of the Factory's design. The dull green of its metal, on every inch of its walls and even the floor, curved and swung in organic formations. Dozens of pens lined its walls on two separate floors in neat rows, their gates clasped together like interwoven fingers. Support pillars stretched from floor to ceiling like giant limbs, their gnarled, finger-like flanges eternally locked on their purchases. Wonderful in its order, horrific in its uncanniness, the place was a cathedral of living matter, and in it would sound a bloody hymn.

Neither Tabula or Papillary, already pretty used to this sort of thing thanks to the rest of the Factory, spared much attention to the architecture. They looked instead at the things inside the pens. They contained monsters of every shape and size, many of them strong-looking indeed. “Impressive, yes?” Graft asked, smiling toothily from ear to ear. “I secured these beasts from Kaldorna's pens. They run the gamut of strength from levels forty to seventy.”

“Whoa...” Tabula breathed. She approached one of the pens, inside which a [url=https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/550488256442007572/703639684458217502/e6339a491aae6faf9dc12dc856b7e2ed.jpg]many-legged lizard[/url] three times the size of an alligator could be found. Its appearance made her giggle. “What could she have demanded in return for all these?”

Graft leaned on his cane. “I'm glad you asked! In exchange for these creatures I offered to eliminate her fodder problem. I took several specimens gathered from the local region and bioengineered them extensively, utilizing Light and Gromgard's findings on IIHM, or insanity-induced mutation. The result...” From his mask's holographic lens he projected an image of a [url=https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/baeddd3f-2733-4321-b33e-014a27f1c8df/dbm13j3-7e04eb5e-aa68-4ae3-a077-6866a6c94da4.jpg/v1/fill/w_900,h_668,q_75,strp/royal_emissary_by_moonskinned_dbm13j3-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NjY4IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvYmFlZGRkM2YtMjczMy00MzIxLWIzM2UtMDE0YTI3ZjFjOGRmXC9kYm0xM2ozLTdlMDRlYjVlLWFhNjgtNGFlMy1hMDc3LTY4NjZhNmM5NGRhNC5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9OTAwIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.H0ZuuGgFtcl8lgGwuf71jzRp3XJoNV4Ce1kN_H1VVlk]nightmarish monstrosity[/url]. “The Inexhaustible Thing, or IT, for short. IT is a ravenous organism with remarkable regenerative abilities and a truly exceptional digestive system, quite possibly my finest yet. As long as it is continuously fed anything with nutrients, it remains docile and will regrow any tentacles that are cut off, which serve as fine meat for beasts. So, it's essentially a living garbage disposal and infinite food stock all in one! Brilliant, huh?” He shrugged. “Of course, it's not recommended for consumption by anything sapient. I'm pretty sure that if a sapient being were to eat IT's meat, they'd go bananas before becoming an IT themselves. But hey, that's progress for you! And...I'm pretty sure I told Kaldorna and her crew about that, so it's nothing to worry about...probably.”

Papillary and Tabula exchanged a worried glance.

“Moving on!” Graft continued. “Defeating Farm animals will serve as your training regimen to take you higher. Each pen is equipped with Emel Shells and Softening Gel sprayers that will make the animals easier to kill, since status effects do not effect experience rewards. I do not recommend getting Softening Gel on yourselves unless you have the whole day free.” He took a moment to chuckle. “The Farm's not ready just yet, since I'm still compiling their data. Once I'm done, this room will automatically collect their remains, feed them into production, and create eggs that will be shipped back here and hatched into new, fast-growing instances for fresh slaughter. In this way, the Farm will feature an endless supply of enemies to farm for experience.”

As messed up as the whole thing was by conventional standards, it didn't really surprise Tabula and Papillary all that much. “Incredible!” the Nightgaunt remarked. “This should make getting stronger remarkably easy. And when we begin experiencing diminishing returns, we just move up to the next, higher-level monster, right?”

Graft clapped her and Papillary on the shoulders, his cane held by a tendril. “Exactly right! It'll take some doing, but we'll be working at maximum efficiency!”

If Papillary had an eyebrow, she would have raised it. “We?”

“Oh, yes,” Graft said, his voice low. He stepped back and bowed, a number of ripjaws emerging from beneath his overcoat. “It's well past time I started pushing forward as well. I will be training alongside you in the future, when my other duties allow me the time.”

Tabula looked happy. “That is wonderful! It will be the first time we fight alongside one another, in a way. I will look forward to it.”

“Excellent.” For a moment, Graft looked happy as well. Then his eyes turned toward the pens again. “Let me give you the run-down, before we go. The animals are sorted by level, ascending from left to right, bottom to top. First we have the [url=https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/3b9c5c89-7e54-4911-80b9-17cda3892836/d78v1hn-de91d45d-30de-47bc-8450-931cad234f31.jpg/v1/fill/w_751,h_1063,q_70,strp/seamonster_concept_sketch_by_mitchgrave_d78v1hn-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTQ0OSIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzNiOWM1Yzg5LTdlNTQtNDkxMS04MGI5LTE3Y2RhMzg5MjgzNlwvZDc4djFobi1kZTkxZDQ1ZC0zMGRlLTQ3YmMtODQ1MC05MzFjYWQyMzRmMzEuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTEwMjQifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.w4iwVdrOvjJn4Se-nv_J6w7GJ2sbycdODdWlTl4D11c]Dagonians[/url], at level fifty.” He pointed out the bipedal, marine monsters in pens one and two. “Then the [url=https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/736d9401-ae2e-4f9e-91e2-b75d3ac885ad/ddkkwhh-1f4ad009-6d77-4c58-90ff-bdadbd39e3a0.jpg/v1/fill/w_1121,h_713,q_70,strp/irian_bloodbeak_by_halycon450_ddkkwhh-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTAxOCIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzczNmQ5NDAxLWFlMmUtNGY5ZS05MWUyLWI3NWQzYWM4ODVhZFwvZGRra3doaC0xZjRhZDAwOS02ZDc3LTRjNTgtOTBmZi1iZGFkYmQzOWUzYTAuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTE2MDAifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.E-ZL_dHfpnlB-9GjeaFyZVFTRo1zHgHWv_fW9zSbaOI]Carrion Fiends[/url], fifty-two. Your Sand Dragons, Tabula, fifty-four. [url=https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/64169c09-1a5c-454d-b9f3-ec291073e12c/dcmn5nv-75301387-ac0e-4217-bf12-aea1c92f0a30.png/v1/fill/w_1217,h_657,q_70,strp/tarantuviper_by_davesrightmind_dcmn5nv-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9ODY0IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvNjQxNjljMDktMWE1Yy00NTRkLWI5ZjMtZWMyOTEwNzNlMTJjXC9kY21uNW52LTc1MzAxMzg3LWFjMGUtNDIxNy1iZjEyLWFlYTFjOTJmMGEzMC5wbmciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9MTYwMCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.SLFbtkB4B9mwZbi13LJ5GyVmhDHovdnxmgTs1pzqCF8]Venobeasts[/url], fifty-six. [url=https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/8b565a4e-1608-49ce-a26e-27c5ef62f505/d7b8kot-49da61dd-96e7-480d-acc1-108a87d723ad.jpg/v1/fill/w_1024,h_754,q_75,strp/insectoid_creature_01_by_callergi_d7b8kot-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NzU0IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvOGI1NjVhNGUtMTYwOC00OWNlLWEyNmUtMjdjNWVmNjJmNTA1XC9kN2I4a290LTQ5ZGE2MWRkLTk2ZTctNDgwZC1hY2MxLTEwOGE4N2Q3MjNhZC5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9MTAyNCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.NwgPQndBMcHa3l1xwuFpKRQ6Faf4ZfECcu2rL4jp04o]Scikords[/url], fifty-eight. [url=https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/8b565a4e-1608-49ce-a26e-27c5ef62f505/d9cxv1m-d10d4c37-a8ff-487e-af15-62feb06646e8.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzhiNTY1YTRlLTE2MDgtNDljZS1hMjZlLTI3YzVlZjYyZjUwNVwvZDljeHYxbS1kMTBkNGMzNy1hOGZmLTQ4N2UtYWYxNS02MmZlYjA2NjQ2ZTguanBnIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.8HYyGDy6-71YQKrtPHjPSdkHp_MmuS4TetPisu0eKck]Scidrawds[/url], sixty. [url=https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/736d9401-ae2e-4f9e-91e2-b75d3ac885ad/dcvz6me-1e710660-3914-4749-b1cb-7027a54197cc.jpg/v1/fill/w_1049,h_762,q_70,strp/mouldformer_worm_by_halycon450_dcvz6me-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTE2MyIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzczNmQ5NDAxLWFlMmUtNGY5ZS05MWUyLWI3NWQzYWM4ODVhZFwvZGN2ejZtZS0xZTcxMDY2MC0zOTE0LTQ3NDktYjFjYi03MDI3YTU0MTk3Y2MuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTE2MDAifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.LgnyWUbm2MJvAcfyCDuVtRxIA6kLwo2rcUmjIvJsV0A]Moldmouldra[/url], sixty-two. [url=https://japanesenintendo.files.wordpress.com/2020/01/proud-manticore.png?w=900]Volt Manticores[/url], sixty-four. [url=https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/d0bc5131-9f3d-47bb-bfe5-0bb8077a4b67/dddr7cq-6295fe3a-2c1b-4abd-8724-941fcfdcea6e.png/v1/fill/w_949,h_842,strp/rothound_by_tetramera_dddr7cq-pre.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTA2NSIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcL2QwYmM1MTMxLTlmM2QtNDdiYi1iZmU1LTBiYjgwNzdhNGI2N1wvZGRkcjdjcS02Mjk1ZmUzYS0yYzFiLTRhYmQtODcyNC05NDFmY2ZkY2VhNmUucG5nIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTEyMDAifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.YyKmpxQ9Tj0R3Folsawlk4bPACWCJPgYmvCW3lUJr20]Smilodons[/url], sixty-six.[url=https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/64169c09-1a5c-454d-b9f3-ec291073e12c/dcg2foe-c2301e3f-9850-4d9f-a02a-2f35906d0ba4.png/v1/fill/w_1022,h_782,q_70,strp/ammo_guardian_by_davesrightmind_dcg2foe-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTIyNSIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzY0MTY5YzA5LTFhNWMtNDU0ZC1iOWYzLWVjMjkxMDczZTEyY1wvZGNnMmZvZS1jMjMwMWUzZi05ODUwLTRkOWYtYTAyYS0yZjM1OTA2ZDBiYTQucG5nIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTE2MDAifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.cqPAlFbNvgHGYw2DnLFXuJbxdWsOmKq-bFdkC7RD9I8]Tormentors[/url], sixty-eight. [url=https://i.imgur.com/ZlJPmA1.jpg]Ruby Hydras[/url], seventy. Nice bunch, huh?”

Tabula seemed to be staring at the Venobeasts. “I cannot say I like that one, no sir.”

Once he followed her gaze, Graft found himself agreeing. “Hm, yes. They're hardly pleasant to look at, but prime subjects for you to improve your Faith with by curing those it poisons. All in due course, naturally. You have a promotion in order soon, right, Tabula?”

The Nightgaunt nodded emphatically, just now remembering after all the stimuli she'd taken in. “Yes, I do. Now that I have ten levels in Paladin, I can work with Aurora to promote to Bishop.”

“Excellent,” Graft said again. He turned and started toward the door, ready to leave the roars and shrieks of the Farm animals behind. “Let's be off, then. There's much to do, and not nearly enough time to do it in.”
[/hider]