Conditor Imperatoris Edward Pascal.

10th of Septara, 1492.

Cogipede. Shavew, Bakewia.

[Grandmaster Artificer, Step 15 - Grandmaster Armorer.]

[Prestige Warlock, Conditor Imperatoris Noctis, Step 1 - Legion.]

[Prestige Sorcerer, Integrated Technomancy, Step 1 - Internal Integration & Separation.]

[Prestige Cleric of the ArcaTech, the Industrial Path, Step 1 - The Bakewian March.]

[09:54.]

*** My return to the Cogipede brought me to my office, where I was eager to go over the many recent changes born from our foray into the Darkroom. Starting with the new prestige and master classes born from Amun's divine tree.

Of course, for artificers, there was more than any other class.

The first of them was the Animator. Their class revolved around creating weapons, suits of armor, or other objects tailored to the souls of the dead and the worthy members of the legion to give them new life as sentient items that will explore the realms in capable hands. Or, simply animate them with magic. And then there was the Bio-Mechanist. An artificer who created magical augmentations and implants to be melded to the flesh and bone in the event of traumatic and irreversible damage; a bit like Iris's class, if I understood correctly. In this aspect, they could put witchcraft out of business. Or, faced another way, would provide aid to those without access to witchcraft. But not everyone was keen on replacing their body parts with metal. Only the Cogs. Regardless, there were a few like Wilson Koorb of the Elven Devil's Troupe. Eldritch Artificers, those who created potions, weapons, armor, and enchantments for our undead or fiendish companions. But even those were paltry in the face of other classes.

The least impressive of them was the Arcane Tattoo Artist. They specialized in tattooing arcane glyphs or sigils onto a person's skin, granting the wearer abilities that ranged from magical affinities or abilities to adopting the abilities of certain creatures, or even increasing the power or range of their spells. It was essentially grafting enchantments onto the skin and using one's own magical energy in place of enchantment crystals. But like the art it was born from, it was an extremely dangerous class to pursue. As one error in the tattoo could spell misfortune for everyone.

Even then, though, there were Master or Prestige Artificer classes with natures born from another class; two of them being the ones I mentioned pursuing at the start of the year. Amalgamations of the artificer and fighter classes. The Master Class, Battle Smith, and the Prestige Class, War Engineer. But so too were there a few classes that blended druid abilities with artificer abilities. One was the Arbor Crafter. Like beavers, they used mud, rocks, and a shit ton of wood to create magnificent structures and machines that could produce all they needed to revitalize environments. The other was a product of Reina, a Druidic Cleric and Artificing Witch, on top of being a Sorcerous Warlock. Those and her magics made her one thing above all others, the Flesh Mother. And now there was the Flesh Crafter; just like Amun said all those months ago when we created VoidNet. Yet, I wanted to be something more than just a Grandmaster Artificer; a fighter, I initially thought, but in the end, I aspired for something entirely different; and received things I'd have never expected.

The first class was obvious. The warlock perks of the Conditor both were and weren't remarkable. The tasks for our path were merely Amun's plans regarding the Great Marulean Crusade, and all that led to it. The perks were meant to fully realize us as the gods of his pantheons, with buffs and boons to enhance our leadership capabilities besides granting us and our legionaries more power. Divine or otherwise.

The second class was unexpected, although not in hindsight. Ever since we left Corvus Tower, Amun had always divinely rewarded our divine efforts. Still, to think I would one day gain the sorcery to not just create but integrate the things I made into my flesh was… unbelievable. With my integrated Grim Gear, I was a bit like the undying. Eating and sleeping were optional, for I ran on pure energy, and my mind had surpassed mortal flesh. To that end, the tasks associated with my sorcerous path revolved around those I brought down a similar path just as much as developing my sorcery and my 'frames,' as armor was now called for me. As stated, it was not unexpected in hindsight. For the second blessing I chose after our emergence from the Dark Room was for my Grim Gearheads to receive a set of Technomancy abilities that perfectly mimicked the perks I had as a Grandmaster Artificer; and for the upper echelon, the same Integration Technomancy as I.

The clerical class was what stumped me, though; a double irony, considering it was both the class I aspired for and the result of my first blessing. My… wish for me, Iris, and Amun to become three parts of a proper cult or religion regarding all things engineering gave rise to a class similar to Amun's Eternal Path. Only, I was already Eotrom's God of Industry, and so my tasks revolved around spreading that divine industry across the Mortal Plane.

Amun was the ArcaTech, the Grand Designer. Iris was the Tech Goddess, Mistress of Machine Souls. I was the God of Industry, the Gear of Progress. Together, we were the Gods of Artifice. And our creed was most noble; our cult… 'evil.' But both were rather efficient.

In understanding the difficulty and inefficiency of waiting until the legions arrived to any land, say, in Maru, and meet with the locals to negotiate agreements to create these wondrous things, I proposed the Creed of Artifice, as the three of our power combined with that of an accursed blessing would expand our reach by several orders of magnitude. It came at quite an auspicious time too. 'It' meaning the revelation of Youterans staging in Maru. Amun's plans with Grandmaster Vilignin and the Marulean Guild Association required nearly every nation in Maru to shift their industrial focus toward war. Imkeruram would only have so many engineers to spare, and the coming strife may make natives wary of any augmented beasts speaking in our voices. And so the Creed was required.

Just jumping into it wouldn't do, however, and so we needed a trial run. Another auspicious fact, for there was no better trial run than Bakewia and, beyond that, the Bodhi Peninsula; bringing me to my current problem. Bakewia was already a land of artificing prowess. It took no effort to put them down the path of becoming a land of engineering through my vehicles. And so, there was no true reason to employ the creed in Bakewia.

Or so I thought.

"I seek counsel, Blaise." I called. Yet the glaring red pupils of my Lore Skull alighted before his name had been called. Through the cogs of his irises, I could see him feel through our link and look across the Net to analyze my plight before his eyes opened to focus his crimson pupils on me and spit out a solution. Only, it was unsatisfactory.

"You are the God-Emperor of Bakewia now, my lord. Thus, your will is law. Yet, you wish to give the people a choice in the matter of their uplift, and so you struggle to determine how to employ the Creed of Artifice. Yet, there is your answer."

"Not quite." I snorted. "The Creed requires a specific purpose before it's employed."

"Perhaps our friend here could give you a straight answer, my lord." Blaise sighed, and the incense in his beard smoldered brighter, adding a fiendish undertone to the dull gray of his skin as he turned to the object in question; my final blessed reward. Another problem. The White Knight.

With Silas having received a Mazer Matron, Pious Patron, and Honorable Heir fused with a Data Crystal, I asked for the same as my last blessing; only, integrated into an augmented beast. Much to my indignation, however, the knight refused any beast offered to it and instead demanded I wait until I completed the summoner's course before going into 'stasis;' whatever my familiar may even be. And so there it was, appearing as a floating bust of a knight's helm, shining with a subtle white glow.

"What I was implying, my lord, was that you use your divine powers to glean inspiration from the people before returning inspiration to them."

"Hmm. I see." I muttered, stroking my chin as I waved him along.

Blaise resized to fit on my hip as I emerged from the brain of this massive bug of metal and stepped to feel the distant heat of dawn splaying across my face, yet its light competed with Mani's half-lidded eye to cast a multicolored glow on the hexagonal tiles before me. Suspended beneath the arched ceiling, the vast array of decks and catwalks stretched the length of the Cogipede, acting as a spine with these 'vertebrae' of decks - or upper yards - being surrounded by offices for the staff of the slim tower floating above the yard below.

As things went, the one I intended to consult was peering over the edge beside a dwarven-human woman with eyes as green as Blude's, overlooked by a being with off-white skin pulled taut against his metallic bones. While Zazz had been recruited before the General, the changes I'd seen in her were nonetheless remarkable. She first proved her station by overseeing the development of the Bodhi International Roadway, after our departure from Nevstan. The result was a network of high-speed roads and rails that connected each country in ways the natives would have never believed; even going as far as to use ArborTech to have the roads anchored atop the Vrurian jungles or other types of tech to circumnavigate Rhar. Then came the Darkroom, where we all became indomitable. Now a Prime Noctis Legionary, Zazz Zeelba was still as cheeky as ever but had learned to compartmentalize it expertly; due in no small part to our augmentations. Her trademark single greave and vambrace were copied before they were integrated into her Grim Gear. Now she wore the upgraded ones at all times, no different in appearance, yet made from the most prestigious materials in Ilium.

The one next to her was no different, albeit inversely so. What before was a gray-haired dwarven-human who moved with the grace of a dry stick was now standing proudly as she did 30 years ago. Yet the gray hair and battle scars remained; the only things left unchanged by her Grim Gear, which itself had changed. Like her eyes, the eldritch 'tattoo' of a gear on her temple glowed the same emerald green as her Honorable Heir, Harper. More importantly, she was at the end of her bardic and paladin paths when I approached her. And so she was one of the few who gained a legendary class upon our emergence from the Darkroom. A Bardic Paladin, Noctis General Borghildr Wangum.

As per our agreement, she brought her extensive family with her and… well, her dwarven heritage mixed with our partially dwarven-inspired culture and imploded when it touched the sky high standards she developed after her augmentation, resulting in a noble house of engineering knights and dames that all aspired to be Grim Gearheads; for those who were not yet of age, as those who were could all be found in the Grim Gearhead's 5th Mole Division, organized beneath her daughter, Prime Praetor Reirfina Wangum.

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Such was the case for all of them. They all surpassed their potential inside the Darkroom and emerged as legends in the making; though there weren't up here. Prime Executor Lytos and Prime Noctis Marshal Lahkrius were analyzing our legionaries' performance in the training rooms, augmented to fit everything we've learned about Rhar. Grave Keeper Sprigmore, Witch Doctor Everwood, and Technical Archmage Ah'l L'eti returned to Shavew with Zazz's father; the now-king of Bakewia to discuss its future - things I was ill suited for, and so came time for my rounds and a bit of insight.

Zazz turned to salute at once, followed by the general's salute and curt greeting. "Morning, Imperator."

Returning the gesture saw a fluorescent mote of blue light trail from the general and come to rest before my eyes, flickering in the eldritch ambience of digital light until I focused my bolstered eyes on it. Cascading fields of information settled around my field of view as I gestured for them to follow me across the upper yard. Then my mind surged as the summarized Rharian rhetoric of 4.7 million Bakewians flowed into my mind, even while another part of it created models and discarded the failures to find a few potential solutions for the creed. Even so, the solutions were incomplete. And more, it was only half of the data - also incomplete.

While we would learn more when Amun went on his Rharian sabbatical, we currently knew horrendously little of the country's military capabilities. What we did know, however, were the intricacies of their lands and the resources within, courtesy of the Sky Skimmer's scouting. And so, when the time came, we would utilize those resources to destroy Rhar, then repurpose them to create something new of the land. And so, the training regimens imposed by the Abyssal Regent reflected how we thought the Rharians would react; which were largely based on the memories and knowledge extracted from Ranren Torhorn's soul. But he did not know everything.

"This first training session shall prove interesting." The general began. "Prime Executor Lytos will have the reports by noon. As for Bakewia." She sighed, looking down at the gnome. "It's more or less uplifted already."

"Thank you, General." I smiled, gesturing down to my hip. "Blaise here, thinks I should listen to the prayers coming from Bakewia to find inspiration for the Creed of Artifice. But… well, as the premier Bakewian native, how do you think we should proceed?"

Zazz turned to me with a cheeky shrug. "Well, you're Bakewia's God-Emperor now."

"As I told the Lord," Blaise interjected from his post.

"Blude already ensured no one else would grow up like they did." Zazz shrugged again. "Everyone rushed to ArcaTech Industries to buy data slates and shards to put their homes in the sky long before that. So, the only possibility is to spread Lady Iris's augmented creatures across the land, have them build receivers for your power, or create a few places of worship for the Gods of Artifice."

Zazz seemed to pause as we came upon the kinetic lanes, yet that was only part of her charm. Instead, her mind worked on the problem while ours wandered; all while our feet stepped through the open strip running down the floor, filled with a light violet energy that nuzzled us toward the massive blast doors at the far side of the yard. Or rather, the much smaller door on its side.

A satisfying hiss signaled the sudden change in ambience that we've all come to expect from our so-called legendary unit. It was a yard of stone and metal, smoke and fire, with 5 floating towers surrounding the pentagonal upper yard suspended above, forever looming above distorted spaces of rolling hills and churning waters; deep tunnels, thick forests, and dense cities that housed the ant-like helms of the Grim Gearheads upper echelon, creating new technologies for the many nations around us.

A unit of a man approached us within moments, the trademark gray gear on his temple glowing as bright as his smile after we returned his salute. Like General Wangum, Prime Legatus Noctis Vitus Woods was a Mazian runaway with a ponytail of golden locks, rich brown skin, and a face like that of a lion, complete with a scar running down his left cheek, now filled with a golden inlay. And that was without armor. With it, he was as massive as a paragon ogre. Yet, his upbringing in the politically hellish landscape of eastern Vruria made him anything but a brute. It made him as politically savvy as his artificing apprenticeship made him crafty; which made him perfectly suited to command the Grim Gearhead Corps.

"Give us a report on your Gearheads," said the general once we returned his salute.

"Yes, General." Vitus's voice boomed as he nodded. Yet, from elsewhere came a serpentine hiss that trailed into silence as a billowing pool of smoke formed between us, filled with lines of fire and points of light that formed a map of the Bodhi Peninsula and the Cogipede's place within it. "The 1st Infantry Division is with the 2nd Armored Division and 3rd Skyfall Division in the training houses, testing our tactics against what we know of our Rharian foes simulated within. The 4th Mountain, 5th Mole, and 6th Marine Divisions are due to rotate when they emerge."

Pausing, he shifted the map to the central mountain range between Zakira's church and where Zaos's brother was killed before highlighting the 4th Mountain Division spread throughout. While their lower-ranking members delved into the mountains to thicken their blueprint bibles by extracting and refining materials and building better equipment, overlooked by their superiors fabricating spell cannons, surveillance equipment, caches, and observation posts higher up the mountain, dialed in on key Rharian positions.

"Once they get the clear, the Fourth Division will be transferred to the Tri-Point to emplace another battery, crossing their fields of fire. As for the Fifth, they have the most work cut out for them." Smiling, Vitus shifted the map underground to where the 5th Mole Division was, making the General's face light up like a barrel of boom powder.

Rather than show their progress in achieving the ArcaTech's grand design in Bakewia's Darkworld, though, he displayed the Mole's projected paths beneath the Great Ligin Bay to access Rhar from below and listed the mostly dwarven cities they were to emerge from; now vacant due to the Order of World's liberation of their residents. "They will set the stage for the other Legions to swarm Rhar, should they strike a third time. Finally, the Sixth Marine Division has been tasked with a similar objective."

The map shifted a final time to the west, bringing our view to the Rharian coast and the few Lunarian vessels lurking nearby. While they had their sights trained on Rharian cities, many Grim Gearheads were scattered among the seafloor beneath them, compressing the ground and capping whatever hydrothermal vents they could, giving no mind to the coral destroyed along the way, for Blude would ensure more took their place. And slowly but surely, they guided the mounting pressure towards the Rharian coast.

"Projected time of arrival: twelve days," Vitus stated grimly. "Projected time of eruption: three months."

"Excellent work, Vitus." I nodded, dismissing myself with a wave.

With a return of the gesture, we were out of his hair and continuing on through the Cogipede, passing through the residential yard for the Gearheads before entering the Silverforge to find the massive blast furnaces, casting stations, and forges churning and yet empty, unlike hours before.

Sensing a tickling feeling more than the pressure of mana, I latched onto the General's data stream and chased it, connecting to Elsgril's lore skull to see him in a Meep with Forgruna beside him and Thordrohilda in the back seat, leading a caravan of freshly recruited dwarven barbarians out of the Kasian mountains. We maintained the channel with Els as we continued on through the many modules of the Drakehorne shops, then on to the Construction yard. There, we saw Quinn's many subordinates designing and testing the very things I would inspire the Bakewians to create, starting with the massive stators that would allow me to feed the power of artifice into the lands.

Diamondblade's yard looked the most out of place, appearing like a section of a dwarven stronghold deep underground, with no glass panels above, only stone. Like Drakehorne's shops, the walls were filled with blocks for her divisions, each with distinct and highly organized spaces for work and play that contained all they needed, leaving the central space open to their barbaric antics. In the Sapper Yard, Matthew's subordinates were testing the relatively few samples of strange flora imported from Rhar from various places. Mostly from the 7th Legion, but also the 1st and 8th from their ventures near the Kasian-Rharian border. The plants they designed to deter the dwarves were deadly to anyone else, for its sap was plentiful and like acid, spraying like an artery when cut, and the smoke corroded flesh just as easily when the plants were burned, no matter how wet or dry it was. Moreover, its bark was lined with terrible thorns and its leaves were abrasive like glass paper. Living walls to keep the residents from going where they weren't wanted. From what I could see, it was even giving Matthew trouble. Edgar Lope, on the other hand, was faring well in adapting his subordinates to defend against arcane archery while their explosives underwent alteration after alteration to wreak the most havoc on their environments, giving the Rharians fewer options in which to maneuver. At least, in theory.

Zazz seemed to pause in contemplation as we passed through the other side, albeit for different reasons than General Wangum. As she'd done many times before, the former seemed to compare the different styles born from across the peninsula as her eyes danced across the city below; whereas the latter threw a scrutinizing gaze at House Wangum. In turn, I paused in contemplation of the spark such observations produced, and so my eyes fell to the yard below, where Horace and Lois had carved a district around their remodeled orphanage; and then it hit me.

Realization hit me like a tungsten train, launching my mind across the breadth of Bakewia, now under our protection. Yet, the ArcaTech's grand design was spreading across the peninsula already, and the many adaptations to these realms have changed them accordingly. I realized, for one, that my perspective had been too small; and two, that Peninsula's uplift was already assured. Moreover, ours was an empire of empires, with technology suited for every land and lifestyle; and I was at the center of its divine industry. And so, the Creed of Artifice, in its entirety, would be no different. Those who followed the creed would do as Elsgril and the others had done by gathering like-minded individuals and teaching them the craft. They would form industrial houses like the General had. Like those in the yard below us, they would combine their cultural flair with the technology best suited for their environments to complete the ArcaTech's grand design. Yet, like everything, there was the other side of the coin of artifice - the Cult of Artifice.

Akin to the followers of the Creed, the cultists would form secretive subterranean, Darkworld, or otherwise isolated factories - cathedrals filled with many devoted followers. But where the creed was to bring mortals down paths that would see their lands prospering, the cultists were granted power through their war machines to wreak havoc. While both were needed in equal measure in Maru, the Peninsula only needed a bit of the cult and a lot of the creed. People, land, parts of their sovereignty; we'd taken much from the Bodhi Peninsula. Now, it was time to give back. With that in mind, I dismissed myself, yet led the way into the residential headquarters yard; similar in appearance to the operations center at the Cogipede's head, albeit with the various facilities made for us by the Troupe spread about the yard, overshadowed by our modules carved into the upper corners. With said modules containing sub-modules for my classes, they contained more private things; libraries, museums, and workshops; though it was the former that I entered with the plan nearly formulated in my augmented mind. A plan to pick a pair of people from each country, including Bakewia, to take the first steps down the March of Progress. One for the Creed to uplift their lands, another for the Cult to destroy the culture within.

ArcaTechnology would be powered by Duke's wind-based machines in Knighilia, just like Toril's pylons in Ligin. NecroTechnology would be powered by Elijah's Shadowblood in Shujen. The same with ArborTech in Nevstan, powered and sustained by Jaimess's windmills and paper machines, akin to Roheisa's heat pumps in Mazi, and Peter's elemental constructs in Redagh. Divine Tech with Lucia's celestial powers in Chaulort; the Plague's Twilight in Kasia; the Lunarian's infrastructure in Brybs; and the Gods of Artifice's essence in Bakewia, powered by my cogs.

With the design formulated, I formed it into a neat mental package and sent it out as a prayer of data - a data stream, with a communications request tagging along. A flash of white came before any connections were made, however, pulling my eyes to the knightly bust atop its podium.

"No need." Came Iris's voice, her trademark blue glow pulsing in the knight's eyes along with her words. "I was listening through General Wangum and Harper."

"And I'm always watching my legionaries." Came Amun's sourceless voice; rather creepily, I add. "More importantly, the plan is solid. That said, many nations are complaining about the many traffic accidents and the difficulty in teaching people how to drive, not to mention all the diplomacy that comes from traffic laws. With that in mind, I think it best to build self-driving vehicles for mass international transportation. Possibly local transport too. I'm sure Iris's machine souls can help with that endeavor once someone has built a factory for them."

"Very well." I nodded to the sourceless voice, then turned to the blue eyes of my knight. "Anything else?"

"Yeah." The eyes pulsed. "Here's the grand design for Rhar's destruction, and for the Southern Bodhi Peninsula's future."

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