EldritchOne
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Nephren-Ka Was Here Bruh.
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- EldritchOne 12 yrs ago
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I whip my feathered serpent back and forth.
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"No Gods or Princesses, Only Science"
Someone was rapping on the front door.
This was not in itself unusual for something like this to happen, except for the fact that Scalpel had yet to re-establish full use of the house and had merely confined himself to the lower quarters to deal with the various issues of settling into his old laboratory and industrial sector. Thus the greater part of the upper house consisting of the mansion and many of its rooms lay empty and dust strewn, although kept clean of any intruders by a network of defence spells.
So how could someone know that I am here?... of course, the refinery and manufacturing chimneys, and perhaps Honey’s supply runs.
Whoever they were they were insistent that was for sure, although an immediate attack would have been more of a sign of violent intent than say a repeated knocking on his door, he still didn’t trust anyone who was interested enough to visit him.
They clearly knew a little too much about him for him to be comfortable with it.
Turning to his Risen he signalled for them to follow him, motioning also for the rest of the War Drones to fall in as well, as they marched single file up the stairs to the main portion of the house. As he opened the door to the upper corridor and as his children fanned out across the house he caught sight of a rat scurrying away. At first this seemed normal, rats long occupied abandoned houses when they fell into disrepair… but then he recalled that his defence network incorporated vermin repellent in order that his work would not be damaged in his absence.
That is a very unusual rat…
Following it as it scurried away he tried to get it in his grasp, the rat panicked and ran, its form becoming almost… translucent and ghost like. It seemed to have an intelligent end goal in mind, especially where it was going was a direct way out of the house… rats did not show this usual level of intuition.
That is a very unnatural rat.
With a final sweep of victory he flipped it off its feet with a gust of magic, and whilst it was disordered grasped it in his magic. The thing flailed and squeaked as he brought it closer to him, looking upon the bizarre thing with curiosity and with a growing sense of dread.
Judging from the magic, something or someone was observing him… and he could make a good guess just who it might be.
“Ten Thousand Hells” he fumed, gritting his teeth in anger at the prospect of having to deal with ‘Her’ again, “That difficult creature…”
His magic tightened and the rat’s squeaks took on a new level of urgency, staring down he continued to compress until he heard the bones in its tiny body fracture and break, before burning it up into ashes.
Discarding the burnt remains he took a deep breath and calmed himself down, he needed to deal with this would-be visitor before their knocking broke down the door.
Still, he would have to find a way of getting rid of these intrusions… already he could feel plans form in his head… very visceral plans.
They entered the main hall with door which was so rudely being rapped upon by someone outside, and his children fanned out into the omnipresent darkness which engulfed so much of it. Looking up at the numerous boarded up high windows, he figured he might as well do something about that, but for now the darkness and the presence of “others” in the shadows it would serve as an apt suggestion to remain civil with him.
The Hall itself was a fairly simple affair, three doors led off to different sections of the house on each side, a dust and leaf strewn marble floor covering it until the edges of the doors before changing into mahogany boarding, and a double staircase ascending to an raised level above the main floor and branching off into numerous different rooms with various applications. Already the War Drones were busy making themselves at home in the upper level, peering through the balcony at the noise with their innumerable number of sensitive lenses, their blades occasionally whirring in anticipation. Others occupied the lower levels, skulking in the shadows and waiting for his command to unleash hell if need be, keeping themselves just out of sight, but not enough to disguise the occasional silhouetted figure moving.
He walked halfway across the hall and then halted, peering at himself he realised he was still in his blood splattered lab coat and apron, but that would have to do for this most unexpected guest. A couple of days prior the glamour spell had also worn off, and given Nocturne quite a shock when she woke up, much to his amusement, but he considered that he most likely wouldn’t really need it anytime soon. If he needed to change his appearance he would have done it in a more permanent manner than that.
Behind him his Risen captains waited, cloaked in heavy grey robes which hid their forms from view, they looked almost priestly, with the Black sun sigil on their sides and upon the hood of the robe only furthering their esoteric nature. If they judged the person to be a threat they would deal with them swiftly, directing their forces as well as joining the conflict if necessary to protect their father.
Such loyal children.
Returning to look at the door he sighed, and decided to answer the caller’s incessant beat. With a flicker of magic the doors swung slowly open, a long blade of light making its way across the floor to rest at Scalpels current position.
Eyeing up his guest, he admired her physique, she was well proportioned and quite attractive… she would be a prime specimen for his work if things turned foul that was sure. He gave her a cold smile and beckoned her forward.
“Enter… to whom do I owe the pleasure of this… visit.”
This was not in itself unusual for something like this to happen, except for the fact that Scalpel had yet to re-establish full use of the house and had merely confined himself to the lower quarters to deal with the various issues of settling into his old laboratory and industrial sector. Thus the greater part of the upper house consisting of the mansion and many of its rooms lay empty and dust strewn, although kept clean of any intruders by a network of defence spells.
So how could someone know that I am here?... of course, the refinery and manufacturing chimneys, and perhaps Honey’s supply runs.
Whoever they were they were insistent that was for sure, although an immediate attack would have been more of a sign of violent intent than say a repeated knocking on his door, he still didn’t trust anyone who was interested enough to visit him.
They clearly knew a little too much about him for him to be comfortable with it.
Turning to his Risen he signalled for them to follow him, motioning also for the rest of the War Drones to fall in as well, as they marched single file up the stairs to the main portion of the house. As he opened the door to the upper corridor and as his children fanned out across the house he caught sight of a rat scurrying away. At first this seemed normal, rats long occupied abandoned houses when they fell into disrepair… but then he recalled that his defence network incorporated vermin repellent in order that his work would not be damaged in his absence.
That is a very unusual rat…
Following it as it scurried away he tried to get it in his grasp, the rat panicked and ran, its form becoming almost… translucent and ghost like. It seemed to have an intelligent end goal in mind, especially where it was going was a direct way out of the house… rats did not show this usual level of intuition.
That is a very unnatural rat.
With a final sweep of victory he flipped it off its feet with a gust of magic, and whilst it was disordered grasped it in his magic. The thing flailed and squeaked as he brought it closer to him, looking upon the bizarre thing with curiosity and with a growing sense of dread.
Judging from the magic, something or someone was observing him… and he could make a good guess just who it might be.
“Ten Thousand Hells” he fumed, gritting his teeth in anger at the prospect of having to deal with ‘Her’ again, “That difficult creature…”
His magic tightened and the rat’s squeaks took on a new level of urgency, staring down he continued to compress until he heard the bones in its tiny body fracture and break, before burning it up into ashes.
Discarding the burnt remains he took a deep breath and calmed himself down, he needed to deal with this would-be visitor before their knocking broke down the door.
Still, he would have to find a way of getting rid of these intrusions… already he could feel plans form in his head… very visceral plans.
They entered the main hall with door which was so rudely being rapped upon by someone outside, and his children fanned out into the omnipresent darkness which engulfed so much of it. Looking up at the numerous boarded up high windows, he figured he might as well do something about that, but for now the darkness and the presence of “others” in the shadows it would serve as an apt suggestion to remain civil with him.
The Hall itself was a fairly simple affair, three doors led off to different sections of the house on each side, a dust and leaf strewn marble floor covering it until the edges of the doors before changing into mahogany boarding, and a double staircase ascending to an raised level above the main floor and branching off into numerous different rooms with various applications. Already the War Drones were busy making themselves at home in the upper level, peering through the balcony at the noise with their innumerable number of sensitive lenses, their blades occasionally whirring in anticipation. Others occupied the lower levels, skulking in the shadows and waiting for his command to unleash hell if need be, keeping themselves just out of sight, but not enough to disguise the occasional silhouetted figure moving.
He walked halfway across the hall and then halted, peering at himself he realised he was still in his blood splattered lab coat and apron, but that would have to do for this most unexpected guest. A couple of days prior the glamour spell had also worn off, and given Nocturne quite a shock when she woke up, much to his amusement, but he considered that he most likely wouldn’t really need it anytime soon. If he needed to change his appearance he would have done it in a more permanent manner than that.
Behind him his Risen captains waited, cloaked in heavy grey robes which hid their forms from view, they looked almost priestly, with the Black sun sigil on their sides and upon the hood of the robe only furthering their esoteric nature. If they judged the person to be a threat they would deal with them swiftly, directing their forces as well as joining the conflict if necessary to protect their father.
Such loyal children.
Returning to look at the door he sighed, and decided to answer the caller’s incessant beat. With a flicker of magic the doors swung slowly open, a long blade of light making its way across the floor to rest at Scalpels current position.
Eyeing up his guest, he admired her physique, she was well proportioned and quite attractive… she would be a prime specimen for his work if things turned foul that was sure. He gave her a cold smile and beckoned her forward.
“Enter… to whom do I owe the pleasure of this… visit.”
I have insurance :P
Although I must say I find those daft spies of hers annoying... a little game breaky really, maybe I should start executing the local wildlife.
Also Scalpel never announced his name in the forest, unless your owl decided to roost in his laboratory I doubt he'd be able to hear shit.
Although I must say I find those daft spies of hers annoying... a little game breaky really, maybe I should start executing the local wildlife.
Also Scalpel never announced his name in the forest, unless your owl decided to roost in his laboratory I doubt he'd be able to hear shit.
Anyhoo, we have had a bit of change, because of your unfortunate enforced absence, and Astral is now in by proxy competition with Tai's Director over acquiring Scalpels services. It seems you both have something the Herr Dok wants, so it'll be interesting to see his contested interests play out. Oh, and Kappy may appear at some point with a fellah who is spying on Scalpel for Thea, so lots of stoof on the go at my end.
Meanwhile, Black Sun grows.
Meanwhile, Black Sun grows.
grimdarkenigma said
Hey guys. I'm really sorry for the disappearance. Moved to a new city and well things got kinda hectic. New job and new apartment all the while had to wait forever for the new internet hookup. Anyway it came out of nowhere quite literally so sorry for no heads up. Though in all fairness I didn't know it would take them WEEKS to hook up the internet. Bloody wankers. Any way so if it isn't' too much trouble I would still like to be part of this.
No worries, we are just glad you're back! I had the same thing going on for a while, which is why I disappeared for a bit, so I understand about the pain in the arse in regards to internet setups.
And so Herr Dok made cybernetic rage zombies. :P
Or smiling dolls on bull shark testosterone, yer choice. XD
I am a little worried about Grim now that I have had a look at his fimfiction profile, he hasn't been active there either for the same amount of time, I hope nothing has happened to him.
Or smiling dolls on bull shark testosterone, yer choice. XD
I am a little worried about Grim now that I have had a look at his fimfiction profile, he hasn't been active there either for the same amount of time, I hope nothing has happened to him.
His children had learned fast, that was certain.
Scalpel had paused in his extensive workload in the creation of simpler forms to overlook his first creations in their cursory activities, and he had been amazed at the rapidity in which they regained their basic knowledge of the world. Already he saw the two of them tear their way through an amassed number of accumulated text books on varied subjects such as occultism, science, history and religion which he had gathered here many years ago. The improved process seemed to have ensured that they learned voraciously, each conversation becoming ever more developed and complex, more advanced and beautiful. However, despite their mental aptitude, they showed a singular loyalty which overrode their ever action, every pattern of thought, every burst of magical energy which now coursed through their living, breathing, warm flesh.
Loyalty to the Father.
Scalpel had never considered himself an apt choice of parent, he was not prime material for it, regardless of his long history of care for Honey Puzzle, he remained her ever protective uncle not a father to her. But now he had his “sons”, his children not borne of biology and the flesh, but of science, brass, and steel, to care for… and he felt familial loyalty to them which none of his real family had ever truly inspired, asides from his neice. It was the duty of the Father to protect and assist his children, and so he would fill that duty, despite them not being children of his flesh and blood.
They are not my flesh and blood… but something more, something perfect
And so he felt something he rarely felt before… Pride.
Turning back to the masses of bodies sitting on the various tables in front of him he considered the passage of these last few days more clearly, wondering at the tremendous progress he had made. Thanks to the quick and able nature of Nocturne, he had been able to make the adaption’s to deceased flesh with increasing speed and propensity. They had acquired more bodies by means of scourging the local areas of bandits and highway ponies, which coursed across the landscape like so many plague infested rats. With the assistance of the goliath enraged body mass of Grunge, the bandits had fallen like wheat before a scythe and his experiments had continued. Meanwhile the two entities which he had taken to call “The Risen” had grown massively in maturity and knowledge and seemed to share his interest in the augmentation of flesh. He had however, been unwilling to entirely reveal the details of the process unless it slipped out of his hooves, but in time he might entrust such activities to the chosen few in time.
The entities he was currently in the motions of making right now where a much simpler and duller form of his prime creations, they would merely be required for basic duties, including defence, manual labour, and industry. Before him lay their forms, macabre in design, but mostly flesh asides from select parts of metal and copper, stitched together with wire and thread. Their lower jaws had been removed and replaced with a series of knifes, pinchers, and welding devices, and their heads caved in, eyeless and filled with a almost arachnid series of glass lenses and tubes to replace them. But their most noticeable attribute was their singular hairlessness, genderless bodies, their huge mechanical claws and a long heavy, flexible cable which extended to the central device of control.
The device in question was a long cylindrical tube like construction, distinguished by two pillar like tops which connected the mass of wires to it. It looked relative nondescript on the outside, but was coursing with the same occult workings he had attributed to his finer subjects. This was the generator, a crude device that ensured a constant supply of magic to keep the creatures active, as well as mood control magic which would alter their state based on the orders given to the device by its creator. It was fitted with two levitation spells in order that it would follow the connected host effortlessly wherever they were directed, even the wire was enchanted not to trail or catch, ensuring relative mobility for the creatures. Each generator could support ten of these things, and with the luck they had gained recently in laying waste to numerous bandit camps, they now had the better part of forty of these easily designable workers.
Of course this was just for the basic model for industry and labour… the true fighting design was a little differently. Clad in leather trench coats, with a large Black Sun sigils in white attached to their backs, and heads mostly covered in Sallet design helmets, only broken by a series of wiring blades and spikes extending from the mangled jaw that was terrible to behold, the fighting units were fearsome entities. Both front hooves had been replaced with metal blades, and their back hooves reinforced with mechanical supports which would allow them to walk on two hooves as well as four with ease, as well as springs which allowed them a deadly jumping attack of flailing blades and screeching knives. Like their labouring brothers, they had attached to them an immense cable and a generator, but unlike the basic drone they could separate themselves for a an hour from the main generator and use what was effectively a portable battery to power themselves for a time, when the power grew low, the creature would redirect itself back to the device using a minor locator spell, and recharge. A bonus feature of the production of these war machines when they had tested them had been the psychological effect on their enemies. The inequine screams of absolute rage as they changed to an aggressive setting, made guttural by machines and magic had utterly terrified the bandits they had fought, and Scalpel had noted with keen precision as the bandits had fled, only to be cut down by and slaughtered by his forces as they sped forward with unnatural speed and agility, and ripped them apart with extreme prejudice.
It had been like watching a pack of manticores.
They had lost the upper levels of thinking, the personality, their memories and emotions, but the basic instinct remained, and the capacity, both to understand commands and learn predatory tactics remained to a degree. Already he had observed changes in the way they dealt with their prey, not only on the field were they grew to learn the best spots to test their blades, but also in their return through the secret passages to the forest with more bodies for his experiments, where he had noted a lessening of the mangling, not by request, but by their seeming understanding of his difficulties with such corpses. Still, at best they remained highly intelligent predators, with basic understanding, true, logical, intelligent life remained only in the Risen.
Whilst he had continued work in making this strange force, he had not abandoned his studies into that of achieving divinity, but he knew he was far from able to create the conditions of apotheosis in his current situation and with his immediate resources. Each year he got closer to the truth, each year he got closer to achieving his dreams… but each year he felt further and further away.
The destruction of his labs, the scarcity of knowledge and the occult books he required, the missing tools from which he would tear open the veins of true magic all lead to an ever distant horizon for the completion of his work. Without some immediate change in his situation he would never truly breach the gateway to true unadulterated divinity. Still, something did lead him to consider it a continued possibility…
The Dreams.
They had become stronger and stronger as time had passed, and every now and then it seemed as if he was hit like lightening by jolts of almost unfathomable information even in his waking hours. He barely understood most of it, but what he did comprehend seemed almost revolutionary to his studies. He did not understand where it came from however… had some entity connected with him and was now flooding his mind with information? Or was it something else entirely? His smile of appreciation faded slowly as he watched his Risen, replaced by one of intense thought…
What awaited him in the service of the machine god?
Scalpel had paused in his extensive workload in the creation of simpler forms to overlook his first creations in their cursory activities, and he had been amazed at the rapidity in which they regained their basic knowledge of the world. Already he saw the two of them tear their way through an amassed number of accumulated text books on varied subjects such as occultism, science, history and religion which he had gathered here many years ago. The improved process seemed to have ensured that they learned voraciously, each conversation becoming ever more developed and complex, more advanced and beautiful. However, despite their mental aptitude, they showed a singular loyalty which overrode their ever action, every pattern of thought, every burst of magical energy which now coursed through their living, breathing, warm flesh.
Loyalty to the Father.
Scalpel had never considered himself an apt choice of parent, he was not prime material for it, regardless of his long history of care for Honey Puzzle, he remained her ever protective uncle not a father to her. But now he had his “sons”, his children not borne of biology and the flesh, but of science, brass, and steel, to care for… and he felt familial loyalty to them which none of his real family had ever truly inspired, asides from his neice. It was the duty of the Father to protect and assist his children, and so he would fill that duty, despite them not being children of his flesh and blood.
They are not my flesh and blood… but something more, something perfect
And so he felt something he rarely felt before… Pride.
Turning back to the masses of bodies sitting on the various tables in front of him he considered the passage of these last few days more clearly, wondering at the tremendous progress he had made. Thanks to the quick and able nature of Nocturne, he had been able to make the adaption’s to deceased flesh with increasing speed and propensity. They had acquired more bodies by means of scourging the local areas of bandits and highway ponies, which coursed across the landscape like so many plague infested rats. With the assistance of the goliath enraged body mass of Grunge, the bandits had fallen like wheat before a scythe and his experiments had continued. Meanwhile the two entities which he had taken to call “The Risen” had grown massively in maturity and knowledge and seemed to share his interest in the augmentation of flesh. He had however, been unwilling to entirely reveal the details of the process unless it slipped out of his hooves, but in time he might entrust such activities to the chosen few in time.
The entities he was currently in the motions of making right now where a much simpler and duller form of his prime creations, they would merely be required for basic duties, including defence, manual labour, and industry. Before him lay their forms, macabre in design, but mostly flesh asides from select parts of metal and copper, stitched together with wire and thread. Their lower jaws had been removed and replaced with a series of knifes, pinchers, and welding devices, and their heads caved in, eyeless and filled with a almost arachnid series of glass lenses and tubes to replace them. But their most noticeable attribute was their singular hairlessness, genderless bodies, their huge mechanical claws and a long heavy, flexible cable which extended to the central device of control.
The device in question was a long cylindrical tube like construction, distinguished by two pillar like tops which connected the mass of wires to it. It looked relative nondescript on the outside, but was coursing with the same occult workings he had attributed to his finer subjects. This was the generator, a crude device that ensured a constant supply of magic to keep the creatures active, as well as mood control magic which would alter their state based on the orders given to the device by its creator. It was fitted with two levitation spells in order that it would follow the connected host effortlessly wherever they were directed, even the wire was enchanted not to trail or catch, ensuring relative mobility for the creatures. Each generator could support ten of these things, and with the luck they had gained recently in laying waste to numerous bandit camps, they now had the better part of forty of these easily designable workers.
Of course this was just for the basic model for industry and labour… the true fighting design was a little differently. Clad in leather trench coats, with a large Black Sun sigils in white attached to their backs, and heads mostly covered in Sallet design helmets, only broken by a series of wiring blades and spikes extending from the mangled jaw that was terrible to behold, the fighting units were fearsome entities. Both front hooves had been replaced with metal blades, and their back hooves reinforced with mechanical supports which would allow them to walk on two hooves as well as four with ease, as well as springs which allowed them a deadly jumping attack of flailing blades and screeching knives. Like their labouring brothers, they had attached to them an immense cable and a generator, but unlike the basic drone they could separate themselves for a an hour from the main generator and use what was effectively a portable battery to power themselves for a time, when the power grew low, the creature would redirect itself back to the device using a minor locator spell, and recharge. A bonus feature of the production of these war machines when they had tested them had been the psychological effect on their enemies. The inequine screams of absolute rage as they changed to an aggressive setting, made guttural by machines and magic had utterly terrified the bandits they had fought, and Scalpel had noted with keen precision as the bandits had fled, only to be cut down by and slaughtered by his forces as they sped forward with unnatural speed and agility, and ripped them apart with extreme prejudice.
It had been like watching a pack of manticores.
They had lost the upper levels of thinking, the personality, their memories and emotions, but the basic instinct remained, and the capacity, both to understand commands and learn predatory tactics remained to a degree. Already he had observed changes in the way they dealt with their prey, not only on the field were they grew to learn the best spots to test their blades, but also in their return through the secret passages to the forest with more bodies for his experiments, where he had noted a lessening of the mangling, not by request, but by their seeming understanding of his difficulties with such corpses. Still, at best they remained highly intelligent predators, with basic understanding, true, logical, intelligent life remained only in the Risen.
Whilst he had continued work in making this strange force, he had not abandoned his studies into that of achieving divinity, but he knew he was far from able to create the conditions of apotheosis in his current situation and with his immediate resources. Each year he got closer to the truth, each year he got closer to achieving his dreams… but each year he felt further and further away.
The destruction of his labs, the scarcity of knowledge and the occult books he required, the missing tools from which he would tear open the veins of true magic all lead to an ever distant horizon for the completion of his work. Without some immediate change in his situation he would never truly breach the gateway to true unadulterated divinity. Still, something did lead him to consider it a continued possibility…
The Dreams.
They had become stronger and stronger as time had passed, and every now and then it seemed as if he was hit like lightening by jolts of almost unfathomable information even in his waking hours. He barely understood most of it, but what he did comprehend seemed almost revolutionary to his studies. He did not understand where it came from however… had some entity connected with him and was now flooding his mind with information? Or was it something else entirely? His smile of appreciation faded slowly as he watched his Risen, replaced by one of intense thought…
What awaited him in the service of the machine god?
I don't quite understand why Torrential is pissed off, he hasn't been on earth for thousands of years, why the hell should he give a shit about some guided ecosystem change? Hell why care at all about Ponyville in the first place?
That's fine, given the nature of the RP so far, I still plan on acquiring the horn from Grim, either directly or through the above plan B.
"What would Scalpel be looking for"
Well my thoughts on the matter regard my headcanon of magic in this and follow a very similar route to the one I used in resurrecting Scalpels "Risen". Basically my theory is that magic works like a network of veins across the world, with a vast connection of small capillaries providing magical base line magical output for all ponykind, and larger arteries consisting of the main streams which transport the vital magical energy and distribute it to the smaller vessels. My theory revolves around redirecting some of these "arteries" into one position, making a certain point of the planet have an immense amount of latent magical energy run through it, and then "ripping open" these "arteries" so that the magic bleeds into Mundus. What Scalpel would be looking for is three things, 1) a way of redirecting strong streams of magic to one select position and saturating the area with ambient magic 2) A tool to literally rip open these "arteries" - Scalpel is not strong enough to do it himself being only a mortal, thus the reliance on the Alicorn horn +machinery- and special tools for the delicate process of doing it without the raw energy causing a massive explosion and killing him 3) a spell similar to that of Tirek's amulet which harvests magical energy and infuses the very essence of the person it is cast upon with huge amounts of raw power.
"and what do you want from the entry?"
Don't know quite what you mean, perhaps a bit of back and forth, talk about all the crazy shit stirring up in the world now we have fourth Tier alicorns running about, perhaps an deal being made between the two- in essence "you give me your forbidden secrets and I'll share mine" sort of thing. If you want to, you could have your guy tap on the door and Scalpel be all grouchy and yell for you to come in, only for you to be greeted by him working on a lot of corpses with a lot of machinery attached to them. :P
Well my thoughts on the matter regard my headcanon of magic in this and follow a very similar route to the one I used in resurrecting Scalpels "Risen". Basically my theory is that magic works like a network of veins across the world, with a vast connection of small capillaries providing magical base line magical output for all ponykind, and larger arteries consisting of the main streams which transport the vital magical energy and distribute it to the smaller vessels. My theory revolves around redirecting some of these "arteries" into one position, making a certain point of the planet have an immense amount of latent magical energy run through it, and then "ripping open" these "arteries" so that the magic bleeds into Mundus. What Scalpel would be looking for is three things, 1) a way of redirecting strong streams of magic to one select position and saturating the area with ambient magic 2) A tool to literally rip open these "arteries" - Scalpel is not strong enough to do it himself being only a mortal, thus the reliance on the Alicorn horn +machinery- and special tools for the delicate process of doing it without the raw energy causing a massive explosion and killing him 3) a spell similar to that of Tirek's amulet which harvests magical energy and infuses the very essence of the person it is cast upon with huge amounts of raw power.
"and what do you want from the entry?"
Don't know quite what you mean, perhaps a bit of back and forth, talk about all the crazy shit stirring up in the world now we have fourth Tier alicorns running about, perhaps an deal being made between the two- in essence "you give me your forbidden secrets and I'll share mine" sort of thing. If you want to, you could have your guy tap on the door and Scalpel be all grouchy and yell for you to come in, only for you to be greeted by him working on a lot of corpses with a lot of machinery attached to them. :P
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