Puk’Jul – Earth – Dimensional Siphon #13,912

  Puk’Jul was so close now.

  Soon his indenture would be at an end.

  This would be his 148th mission in his role as an Emissary for the Trade Amalgamation and their subsidiaries. Long ago having lost track of how many elevants lives he had reaped in their name with his macabre set of class skills. Conversely, Puk'Jul found it easier to think of the necessary sacrifice of lives in terms of planets saved.

  Try as he might to readjust the framing of his moral scope, there had been 13 regretful failures, in saving the worlds to which he'd been quested. The last of which having been on Ofa’agli’kan II, some 32 cycles ago. That particular world's failure hinged on the fact that the whole native Elevant population had aggressively refused to become a member of the Amalgamation in any way shape or form.

  Normally he would have asked for extraction immediately but according to his quests description, their planet had an extremely rare insect that was capable of converting mana into a permanent physical state. Being that such a thing was unheard of in Phase One worlds, it was only natural that such a find had to be acquired for the betterment of the Trade Amalgamation and its loyal subsidiaries.

  Usually he would have taken a hive of the things and been done with the planet, but apparently this had already been attempted by another Emissary. Of course the species subsequently died upon introduction to any atmosphere or light based radiation, which was not the same mana frequency as its world of origin.

  So when Puk had finished violently subduing the native populace and securing passage for the Amalgamation Aligned forces to the planets surface, he thought his quest was complete.

  Sadly however, when an allied Initiate Beast Tamer went into the quarantined zone to begin preparations for controlling the colony of the rare insect within its only viable habitat, the uncommon classer found that the native’s last act of defiance had been that of petty spite.Taking it upon themselves to have their Initiate Alchemists engineer a mana enriched pathogen like fungus that neutered the flying insect’s ability to excrete the solid mana.

  Given that by that point the malignant magical fungus permeated the entirety of the only zone in which they spawned. No matter how many times they were killed and re-spawned by the system, the natives of Ofa’agli’kan II’s act of defiance was effective beyond any reasonable method within a standard cost benefit assessment for rectification.

  Obviously, now that The Amalgamation had invested so heavily in the failed endeavor and the planets Elevants had displayed consistently hostile intentions toward their members and their activities. The natives had to be expunged as an example to future Elevant’s if only so that they would not repeat their mistakes.

  In turn, when the screams and corpse fires of the cleansing had finally been extinguished. The becalmed world was efficiently transferred to the care of a lesser Amalgamation subsidiary, so they could put its remaining system generated resource to more appropriate use.

  Thus, ever since that monumentally time consuming failure, Puk'Jul had vowed never to let his extravagant consideration of fellow Elevant’s lives curtail the necessity of his actions ever again.

  So as Puk read the fresh kill notifications of the latest iteration of aggressive natives that failed to entertain his reasonable insistence for their peaceful surrender, he felt nothing but regretful resignation:

  Willing away the notifications Puk'Jul had his [Lesser Reconstituted Minion]’s return to their standard guard formation around him. Sighing, he reminded him-selves that it would not be long until such actions were no longer a necessity.

  After he reached 150 successful Quest completions and fulfilled his side of the agreement with the Amalgamation. He would earn his planet, the breathtakingly fungal world of Sal’Yiu’s, safe passage to take it’s rightful place as a Phase 2 world, leaving him free and clear to progress further still on his path to ascension and glory.

  Initially Puk had thought that he could complete the phasic quest himself given his incomparable prowess at the slaying of all things system generated manabeast. But after consulting The Mystic’s Conclave, his growing renown amongst his race was dealt a terrible and unfroseen blow.

  It was just after he had reached level 99 and Puk'Jul was riding high on the praises of his contemporaries. He’d scoffed when an Initiate Mystic barely above level sixty had foretold that he was not only not destined to complete the quest, but to be also utterly unable to do so. Furthermore the Fur'Ray procreating deficient went on to inform him that he would have to leave Sal’Yiu, it’s three goddess moons and their protective embrace to find his true path elsewhere.

  Incensed that such a non-combat classed weakling had the nerve to forbid him from advancing the Sal’Eir as a species, Puk demanded that a more experienced Mystic parse the under leveled deficient’s ramblings or he would fell him where he cowered. As the simpering Kaj’Gol scampered away in fear, both his minds mused on whether he should brake with tradition and forge an unknown path, and to the abyss with consulting the Mystics about fate and its rancorous stipulations!

  Much to Puk'Jul's chagrin and awe however, the next grey robed Initiate Mystic to waft in to the petitioner’s room and divine his future was none other than Hap’Tur herself, the head of the whole Mystic's Conclave.

  Again as the foretelling class’s skill washed over him, he waited with bated breath and stilled hearts, in silent hope of a more palatable future.

  When the warmth of the skills orange glow abated and the Head Mystic’s silver eyes bored holes into his class afflicted blue ones, his stomach began to sink in trepidation at her emotionless visage.

  The stone faced Hap’Tur confirmed that Kaj’Gol had been correct in his simpering summation of Puk’s life’s prospects as an Elevant. Where the latter had sketched vaguest of outlines about what was to become of him, Hap’Tur gifted him a vibrant simulacrum of his apparent predestination's.

  Although Puk'Jul was incapable of killing his worlds Phasic Boss because of its supposed incorporeal nature. Nor was he destined to complete the Tier 4 Quest to attain his imagined glorification and self reliance. He was equally fated to seek out The Trade Amalgamation and apply to adopt the illustrious 'Initiate Emissary' as his second class.

  In doing so, not only would he become stronger than he had ever been, but he would become an Incarnates Chosen as he traveled among the stars. In turn he would also strive to complete a struck bargain that would almost assuredly help the Sal’Eir as a whole, accomplish that which he alone could not.

  Regretfully Hap’Tur did point out the he would never be able to return to Sal’Yiu. Clearly noting his distaste at the very idea, she offset such a high price with the knowledge that he would have hundreds of cycles of enacting his role as a Chosen and seeing the Phase One initiated universe from a position of comfort, power and prestige that a vast majority could never even hope to glimpse.

  Grudgingly, Puk'Jul accepted her taciturn guidance and though both his minds were loathe to admit it, every day of his role as an Emissary had proved far more entertaining then kowtowing to the grey bearded Elected with their suffocating and restrictive traditions.

  His more present mind chided his other mind for ruminating on the past for so long as it checked his [Universal Time Keeper] for how much longer remained until he was free of the far too bright red and rocky imitation of the adjacent planets biome:

  Smiling to himself, Puk'Jul deposited the device back into his [Lesser Storage Ring], and patiently waited for his mission proper to commence whilst whistling a song he and his creche mates used to sing about monsters from the abyss and how to avoid them.

  The time for departure came as expected when the quest completion flashed into existence:

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  Smile morphing into a grin a mind recast his [Lesser Ageis of Decay] before primed his [Lesser Necrotic Hex] on the off chance that the recently elevated natives had somehow managed to form into organized factions already. Though judging by the lacking communication and teamwork all the Party’s he’d slain had displayed, both of Puk'Jul's minds highly doubted the countermeasure would be a necessary one:

  When the flash of light and disorientation that always accompanied system generated transportation had dissipated, he blinked away the after effects before willing away the notification disperse so he could take in the hitherto unexplored world of 'Earth' and it’s Delta Zone.

  Puk'Jul and his [Lesser Reconstituted Minion]’s found themselves atop an outcrop of grey layered stone that overlooked a black fine and sandy beach. One of his minds was extremely tempted to make his way down the steep cliffs and bask in the waning light of the planets star.

  His second and more responsible of his minds however, reminded the first clearly less so, of the level of importance the Amalgamations representative, Vice Chief of Operations Lei-Xulla, had in no uncertain terms conveyed his current mission held.

  Sighing in regret he turned from the scenic view and willed the guidance arrow to manifest and point him in the direction of the nearest surviving habitation of the native Elevants.

  Traveling through the zones as his [Lesser Reconstituted Minion]’s ranged out and cleansed all manner of threat they could find. The kill notifications scrolled methodically by to leave Puk'Jul quietly relieved in his discovery that the locally spawned monsters did not have any gas based varieties. It was not that he couldn’t kill them, but from first hand experience, they were a complete waste of his time and mana when weighed against the manamote’s they rewarded.

  Smile on his face and stat boosted spring in his step, it did not take Puk'Jul long to swell his host of minions to many thousand strong with [Raise Lesser Reconstituted Minion] as his blue mana bar bottomed out and refilled whilst he endeavored to reach his destination within Alpha Zone #195’s sparsely vegetated terrain.

  City #843.

  Over the cycles, he had learned that the most effective negotiation tool he had at his disposal was force.

  Certainly, words and intentions were an integral part when establishing any working relationship within the system initiated Phase One worlds. However, when a negotiating entity just so happened to put an extremely large and lethal weapon nonchalantly in view and then asked for your cooperation?

  Well, the results spoke for themselves:

  Sufficiently situated, Puk'Jul now sat beneath his favorite purple cloth awning in the clearing outside of the City’s defensive walls amidst his silent minions, whilst reclining in a painstakingly crafted [Chair of Rejuvenating Relaxation] and sipping a drink, he was already effectively engaging in active diplomacy.

  Or so he told him-selves.

  Regardless of the potential external misinterpretations, it did not take long for the guards of the place to scurry and inform the ruling group or individual Elevants that he had arrived. A mind pulled up his ‘status’ more out oh habit then necessity, if only to make the waiting more bearable:

  It was only when his more astute mind managed to spy the near universal white robes of Initiate Diplomat’s cresting the white wall in a half huddle that he approximated it was just the right time to dispense with his translucent statistical inventory and make his most generous offer.

  “Greetings, natives of Phase One Planet 4,273,994,182,891 I am Emissary Puk’Jul of the Trade Amalgamation, here in search of the Forerunner of your world. Any Elevant with knowledge of, or information leading to this individual will of course, be handsomely rewarded.”

  Expectedly, the poor weaklings had to huddle together a considerable amount of time more, to fret about what to do about the offer of the big bad Initiate Necromancer and his thousands of minions waiting patiently for their answer.

  So with little else left to do, Puk'Jul continued to wait and enjoy his delicious beverage of [Fermented Kang'Tang].

  Irritatingly it seemed that the natives still had a lot to discuss because they certainly took quite a while to do much of anything else.

  And just as he was beginning to think he would have to take a more forceful approach, the City’s gates opened and a white robed individual surrounded by a party of six, not-so-bravely ventured fourth of the City and its severely lacking protections, to begin the long overdue preliminary phase of negotiations.

  Humming his favorite refrain from his creche days and smiling pleasantly at the on coming Party of six, Puk'Jul of the Sal'Eir was most certainly in a mood to oblige.